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They all accuse me of being the Romeo in the house because I don’t sleep around like it’s my job to get laid. So I’m not into casual hookups. That doesn’t make me a schmuck.
I don’t know what the fuck I am right now… other than haunted.
And riled.
Fuck, I want to drive to Fontana and teach Theo a lesson. I want to turn back time and somehow be in that house when Matt demanded Rachel get him a beer. He wouldn’t have gotten his dirty fists anywhere near her.
“Okay, your face is doing that thing again. Seriously, Padre, you’re killing me. Would you please tell me what the fuck is going on with you?” Ethan’s frown is sharp and irritated.
I’ve known him so long now that I can read his looks—he’s not mad, he’s worried.
I would be, too, if he was acting like this, so I have to tell him something.
Shifting again, I rest my forearms on the table, my thumbs tapping together. “Look, I can’t tell you details. It’s seriously not my story. I just…” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out another sigh. “I just want to help her.”
“Ahhh, so it’s a girl.” Ethan wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Like a serious I like this girl or just a she makes my balls tingle?” My warning glare shuts him up… for all of two seconds. “So, this girl… why does she need your help?”
After a long silence on my part, Ethan’s smile fades back into a frown, and he moves forward in his chair.
“Bro,” he murmurs. “What am I missing here? Is this girl in some kind of trouble?”
It’s impossible to hide anything from this guy, so I just look at him, letting him in without saying a word.
“Damn, man, what happened to her?”
I clench my jaw and softly grit out, “Her boyfriend let his friend beat her up, then locked her in his room so she couldn’t get away.”
Ethan’s eyes flash with anger, his gaze going hard and dark, his lips pinching into a narrow line.
“Her ex-boyfriend,” I clarify, more for my own benefit than his. I’m so fucking glad she left him.
“Do you know the guy?”
I shake my head. “No, but I want to track him down and beat the living shit out of him. And his friend.”
Ethan nods, letting me know he’d like to be in on that mission. It’s a relief to see how riled he is over this. It makes me feel like I’m not insane for feeling the way I have been.
What happened fucking sucks. We have a right to be mad about it.
The bruises on Rachel’s body filter into my mind again. The boot print on her back.
I suck in a breath, my nostrils flaring as I snatch the water bottle and squeeze the shit out of it. The plastic crinkles and bends—a loud disruption to this suck-fest of a conversation.
Ethan glances at me. “Does he go to Nolan U?”
“No, the little fucker lives in California.” I smack the squashed bottle onto the table, but it doesn’t hide the noise of glass shattering behind me.
Ethan and I whip around together, our eyes bulging as we spot Mikayla standing in the open doorway. The glass she was holding is now scattered across the concrete tiles, liquid fizzing on the ground by her boots.
What is she doing there? I didn’t even hear the door slide open.
Oh shit. What did she hear?
It can’t be good.
Her cheeks are pale, her eyes the size of dinner plates. “Did you just say… California?”
I wince, my heart rate ratcheting up. “How long have you been standing there?”
