by Alex Grayson
“What? What is he saying?” I rip the phone out of Oliver’s hand, a thick knot lodging itself in my throat.
The floor sways beneath me as I read the text Zayden just sent Oliver.
It was easier than I thought. She ate up every fucking word I said. Too bad she wasn’t a better lay.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes as my stomach turns over on itself.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
“I told you.” Oliver snags his phone out of my hand, locking the screen before shoving it back into his pocket.
“Why?” I croak out. “Why would he do that? Why would he pretend?” I’m still clinging to the possibility that Oliver is lying, but my grip is slipping with every second that passes.
“Because that’s who he is. Zayden is out for only one person. Himself. It’s all about what he stands to gain. And in this case, he got laid, helped his best friend out, and earned himself an easy thousand bucks. And thanks to your eagerness to jump on his dick, it only took him a couple weeks to accomplish it all.”
“I don’t believe you.” My voice shakes as I fight the tears threatening to spill.
“No? Why don’t you call him then? See what he has to say?”
“Fine. I will.” I pull my phone out of the front pocket of my hoodie and quickly pull up Zayden’s number. It only rings once before it goes to voicemail.
My heart drops.
Hitting his number again, the same thing happens. One ring and then voicemail.
“Not answering your calls I see?” Oliver chuckles. “Wonder why that is. Oh wait.” He taps the side of his head. “I know why. Because he got what he was after and now he’s done with you. Poor, Rylee.” He pouts out his bottom lip dramatically.
I want to lash out. I want to scream. I want to lunge at Oliver and punch him over and over until he feels even an ounce of the pain that’s tearing through me right now—like a wild animal trying to claw its way from the inside out.
I want to tell him how much I hate him. How much I hate Zayden. How much I wish I had never met either of them. But the words get clogged somewhere in my throat and never make their way to the surface.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, I turn, snagging my car keys off the counter as I head for the front door. I throw it open, leaving it flapping in the wind as I take the front porch steps two at a time.
I don’t care that it’s thirty degrees outside and that I’m in shorts with no shoes. I don’t care that I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing. All I know is that I have to get away from here. I have to get away from this house, from Oliver, from Zayden, from everything.
And I have to do it right now.
ZAYDEN
“I’M HEADED OUT, BENNY!” I call to the boss man, pulling my keys from my pocket as I head out of the bay. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Later,” he yells without removing his head from the Jeep he’s working on.
Benny always keeps the shop open until eight on Friday and Saturdays for people who work and need to drop off their cars for the weekend.
I reach toward my back pocket when I remember I don’t have my phone with me. I was supposed to call Rylee when I got off work, but it looks like I’ll be stopping by her house instead since I must have left my phone there last night when I left. You’ll not hear a lick of complaints from me though.
Memories of last night filter through my head, and I’m forced to adjust my hardening dick as I climb into my truck. I’ve had numerous girls since the first time I had sex at fourteen, but not a single one of them felt as good as Rylee did last night. She, as girly as it sounds, rocked my fucking world.
I hated leaving her after, but my dad needed me at home to watch Danielle. Besides, I have many, many plans of repeats. Just as I feared, once I had Rylee, and knew what she felt like from the inside, it’s going to be a very long time before I’ve gotten my fill. If I ever get my fill.
I pull up to the curb in front of her house a few minutes later. Disappointment hits when I don’t see her car in the driveway. Last I heard, we were supposed to see each other when I got off work. Of course, she had no way of getting in touch with me if something came up.
There’s a black Beemer in the driveway, and I know it’s not Oliver’s or his dad’s, so it must be Rylee’s mom’s. I haven’t met her mother yet, but it looks like I’m going to now.
I rap my knuckles against the door and wait for it to open. The woman before me is an exact replica of Rylee. While her looks are more mature, she doesn’t look old enough to be Rylee’s mom, maybe an older sister.
“Mrs. Conley?” I ask, just to be on the safe side.
“Yes.” She smiles and holds out her hand. “But please call me Evelyn. And you’re Zayden, right?”
I shake her hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, it’s about time I met you. I’ve heard so much about you from Paul, but it always seems like our schedules never mesh for us to meet.”
Paul and Rylee’s mom have been married for a little over two months. Normally, I’m at Oliver’s house more, but since winter break ended, I haven’t been over as much, or when I have, neither Paul nor Evelyn have been around.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I shove my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “I was over last night, and I think I left my phone and jacket here. You mind if I come in and look?”
“Not at all. Come on in.”
She steps back from the door and gestures with her hand for me to enter. I immediately spot my jacket lying over a chair by the stairs. After I snatch it up, I turn to face Evelyn.
She has her arms crossed over her chest, a curious glint in her eyes. “I didn’t realize Oliver was home last night. He told Paul he was out with some friends.”
I have no idea if Rylee’s told her mother about us, but there’s no way of getting out of telling her the truth. I already told her I was here last night; my jacket proved it.
“I wasn’t here with Oliver,” I say, holding her eyes.
It only takes a moment for her to register what my words mean. “Oh.” She says the word slowly, her mouth forming a circle. “Rylee. You were here with Rylee.” She frowns. “I didn’t realize you two were friends.”
“More than friends, actually.”
She frowns, lacing her fingers together in front of her. “Oh, well, I haven’t seen much of her lately. I’m sure that’s why she hasn’t told me.”
I don’t comment on that. Rylee hasn’t said much about her mom, but I get the sense things are a little tense between the two since they made the move to Paul’s house.
“Do you happen to know where Rylee is? We were supposed to meet after I got off work.”
“No, I haven’t spoken to her since I got home. She was rushing out the door when I was coming downstairs after changing my clothes. She was on the phone with one of her friends. Someone named Pierce, I think. She mentioned something about a party.”
There’s only one party going on tonight that I know of. Why the hell would Rylee want to go to Regina’s party? She has to know she’s part of Tiffany’s bitchy little squad. Rylee’s brave, strong, and tenacious, but I don’t see her purposely putting herself in Tiffany’s crosshairs. Not to mention, we were supposed to meet up. She knew I got off at seven, so why the hell did she leave?
I pull out my phone, turn my screen on, and see several missed calls from Rylee that came in last night, right after I left. I also have a couple of missed calls from Oliver from thirty minutes ago.
“Do you know where Oliver is?” I ask Evelyn.
She shakes her head, her dark hair, so much like Rylee’s, swaying over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I don’t. He doesn’t keep us in the loop much on where he’s going.”
I jerk my chin up in a nod, my jaw clenching with sudden irritation. I need to get out of here and find Rylee before something happens. And if she’s at Regina’s house, I have no doub
t Tiffany is, too; therefore, shit will definitely happen. Tiffany may have been quiet recently, but I know damn good and well she’s not over her snit with Rylee.
I thank Evelyn for letting me in to grab my phone before leaving. As I walk to my truck, I pull Rylee’s name up and try to call her. It rings until her voicemail picks up. I smash the End Call button and try again. Getting the same results, I toss my phone on the dash, start my truck, and haul ass out of the neighborhood. Oliver will have to wait until later for me to call him back. My only thought is of getting to Rylee.
A bad feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. Something isn’t right. Rylee wouldn’t up and leave to go to a party when we were supposed to meet up. And she certainly wouldn’t do it without calling me first. The only missed calls I have from her are the ones from last night. None today and no text messages.
I stop behind a line of cars a couple houses down from Regina’s. When I get out of my truck, I can already hear the thump of loud music. This neighborhood is one of the richer ones, so you’d think the neighbors would call the cops with a noise complaint. But then again, I’m sure most know each other and wouldn’t dare call the cops for fear of insulting the other. Appearances and reputations are everything to these people.
Although it’s still kind of early, people already litter the yard; some are so drunk they sway and fall over, some make out in the shadows, while some simply stand around and talk to others. When I walk in the house, I can barely hear myself think because the music is so fucking loud. And the amount of people is ridiculous. You can’t move without bumping into someone.
I head for the kitchen first. It’s ironic because the kitchen is usually where the booze is kept, but it’s normally the least crowded part of the house during these things.
I keep my eyes peeled for Rylee, but instead of finding her, I spot Tiffany leaning against the wall down one of the hallways right outside the kitchen. Her skirt is so short, that I have no doubt if it wasn’t so dark, I’d be able to see her panties. Her shirt isn’t much better with one side hanging off her shoulder so low, the tops of her breasts are on full display. Lifting my gaze to hers, she’s wearing a smile I really don’t fucking like. It’s the type that says she knows something I don’t, and whatever it is, it’s something she’s enjoying immensely.
That bad feeling I had in my truck triples in strength.
When I don’t find Rylee in the kitchen, I head out to the backyard. While the party is very much going on out here as well, it’s not nearly as loud. Most people are circled around several fancy fire pits that line the end of the stone patio.
Again, there’s no Rylee.
Maybe there was another party she went to. Maybe it was one with her friends from her old school. It still doesn’t explain why she didn’t shoot me a text telling me she was going.
The thought occurs to me that she could be upstairs, but just as quickly, I dismiss it. Upstairs is usually reserved for fucking.
I turn to go back inside to look around again, thinking I should call Charles to see if he knows where she is, but I’m waylaid by Tiffany right outside the door. She stares up at me with seductive eyes. Or eyes she thinks are seductive. To me, they’re just a plain shit brown. Not like the warm caramel that Rylee’s are.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Z. You haven’t been to any parties lately,” she purrs.
“I’m looking for Rylee,” I state. “Have you seen her?”
Instead of answering, she dances her fingers up my abs. Before she makes it past my belly button, I grab her wrist, pull her hand off me, and shove it away.
“Tiffany,” I warn, my voice hard and unforgiving. “Have you seen Rylee?”
“Maybe.” She tilts her head to the side and juts out her tits, as if the bitch thinks that would entice me.
“No more fucking games, Tiffany,” I growl impatiently. “Where is she?”
“Why are you so hard up on her? What does she have that I don’t?”
“I don’t have enough time to go through all the things she has that you don’t. The list is fucking endless. Now, tell me where the hell she is.”
She tosses me a scathing look, but it doesn’t last long as a slow smile creeps across her face. I ball my hands into fists to keep from wrapping them around her throat. I don’t like her look. It holds secrets.
“She’s upstairs,” she says, her grin widening.
I take a threatening step toward her. “If you’ve done something to her, Tiffany, I swear to Christ I’ll make your life fucking hell.”
“Oh, I haven’t done anything to her.” Her tone a saccharine sweet.
I leave her in the backyard, afraid if I stay in her presence much longer I may do something I’ll regret. Heading inside, I shove people out of the way and go for the stairs leading to the second floor. Charles hits the bottom step right as I do. He looks surprised to see me. I’m damn surprised to see him, too. He and Rylee are usually stuck together like glue when they’re out together.
“Why aren’t you with Rylee?” I demand.
His brows jump up then narrow, his expression changing from surprise to anger.
What the fuck?
“I was, but then I lost her. I’m looking for her now. Question is,” he leans closer, “why are you here looking for her? Haven’t you done enough?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I grit my teeth. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. We need to find her.”
Without waiting for a response, I take the stairs two at a time and stalk toward the first door I see. I’ve been to this house plenty of times for parties, so I know there are six bedrooms up here.
The first one has a couple going at it on the bed, the guy’s white ass in the air as he pumps away, while another couple is on the loveseat in the corner. I don’t bother to close the door before I move onto the next room. This one is surprisingly empty. I check two more rooms and find them both occupied, but no Rylee.
I move to the fifth door and spy Charles going for the last one. The door is cracked open a couple of inches. I push it open and it taps against the wall. The room is dark, the only light coming from a bedside lamp.
“Leave. This room is taken,” the guy grunts from the bed as his hips rock back and forth against the girl underneath him. He’s still dressed, but I’m sure that’ll change within the next few minutes. The girl’s face and body are hidden, the only thing showing is one of her bare legs the guy has propped around his waist.
I’m about to leave when the glint of metal catches my eye. Taking a couple of steps closer, I zero in on the silver bracelet wrapped around the girl’s ankle. Pain hits me square in the chest, followed closely by red-hot anger. Just a few days ago, I fiddled with that bracelet when Rylee had her feet propped up in my lap.
“Shit, Rylee,” Charles mutters behind me.
I don’t know if the guy heard or sensed we hadn’t left the room, but he turns his head. I briefly register that I know him before my eyes lock on Rylee’s face. Her head is tilted to the side, her hands resting on the mattress on either side of her face, and her eyes are hooded from the alcohol she must have consumed. Her gaze briefly glances over me before she twists her head to look up at the ceiling.
Betrayal and blinding rage fill my system, making my body quake. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m across the room and have the guy’s throat in my hands as I haul him off Rylee.
“Shit, Zayden, I didn’t—” Bryant manages to wheeze out before I tighten my grip. His eyes bulge and his hands claw at my fingers.
I release his neck, but don’t give him time to recover before my fist lands on his face. He falls to the floor, and I fall with him. Straddling his chest, I lock his arms at his sides and use one hand to hold him down by his chest. I rear back my other and clock him across the nose. There’s a loud crunch, followed by a gush of blood.
“Zayden!” someone barks, but I’m too far into my rage to pay attention. My only concern is destr
oying this motherfucker. He touched what is mine, even if the bitch was lying there with her legs spread, letting him have his way with her.
I clock him in the jaw and his head slams to the side, blood spraying from his mouth all over the white carpet. I rear back to land another punch, when my arm is grabbed, and I’m suddenly pulled off of him. Oliver stands in front of me, blocking me from getting back at Bryant.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I snarl and take a step to my right. Oliver follows.
“Calm the hell down,” he growls. “You’ve made your point. The guy has had enough.”
I grind my molars. “He wasn’t about to fuck your girl. Until that happens, you don’t get to say when he’s had enough.”
“Unless you want him dead, then yes, he’s had e-fucking-nough.”
I look at the prone body on the floor. Seeing the bloody mess of Bryant sobers me enough to clear my head of the murderous rage. I’m not nearly done with him, but he’s not worth a prison sentence.
“You calm?” he asks.
No, I’m not fucking calm. I just caught my girlfriend in the mist of cheating on me. What the fuck is there to be calm about?
I nod anyway.
I look back at Rylee, my anger mounting again, and find Charles sitting on the bed beside her. They’re both facing away from me. She’s leaning against his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Oliver walks over to them and sits on the other side of the bed, his face a mask of concern. The way they’re treating her, especially Oliver, the guy who can’t stand the sight of her, pisses me off. They’re acting like she’s the one who was wronged.
“Fuck this shit,” I mutter and stalk to the door.
“Zayden, wait!” Oliver calls from behind me, but I keep going.
Several people are outside the room looking in. I bare my teeth and shoot them all glares as I pass by. Wisely, they scurry their little asses out of my way. No one intercepts me as I leave the house, but I’m sure the look on my face warns them not to. I climb in my truck and roar away from the curb.
