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“Wait a minute,” I bark as I follow her. “We can talk about this.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she demands. “You all seem to have your minds made up about me.”
I catch up with her just as she reaches her locker. She works the combination lock with jerky movements, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s so upset because she’s being accused of something she didn’t do or if it’s because she’s guilty as hell.
But no accusations were actually made.
When she yanks open her locker door, metal slams against metal. And when I glance over her shoulder and spot the stack of cash she lifts from the top of her bag, disappointment and rage war in my system.
“Care to fucking explain that?”
CHAPTER 14
SKYE
“Care to fucking explain that?”
I whirl around so quickly at the drastic shift in his tone that I stumble backward into my locker and drop the bills on the floor. Rogue’s hand shoots out to steady me, but as soon as he’s sure I’m not going to fall, he drops my arm as if touching me disgusts him.
“I-I-I have no idea where that came from.” My words are shaky from the shock of seeing that money sitting in my locker.
“That’s pretty convenient,” Rogue growls. “Did you really think you’d get outta here without getting caught?” He nods at the cash on the floor. “That’s my money, my fucking club’s money.”
I blink back tears. “I swear, Rogue, I have no idea where that came from. You saw that my tips were in my pocket,” I remind him as I pull out the wad of crumbled bills he counted earlier and toss them on the table next to the lockers.
“Your locker has a lock on it. Do you actually think I’m that stupid?” He cocks his head. “Yeah, you must think I’m fucking stupid to believe that.”
So much for ‘we can talk about this’.
I shake my head in denial. “I’m not calling you stupid. I honestly don’t know how it got in there.”
Rogue runs his hands through his hair and starts pacing back and forth in front of me. I bend down to pick up the cash that fell to the floor. Once I have it all, I straighten back up and hand it to him. Waylon’s head pokes into the breakroom as Rogue rips it out of my hand.
“Get things sorted out?”
“Not even close,” Rogue responds without turning around. “Get in here.”
Waylon shuffles over to where Rogue and I are facing off against each other.
“Waylon, tell Rogue I didn’t steal any money,” I beg.
Waylon whistles. “I wondered when the truth would finally come out.”
Rogue spins on his heel and grips the front of Waylon’s shirt. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs, finally feeling like someone has my back.
He’ll tell Rogue I’m not a thief.
My relief is short-lived when Waylon does the opposite of what I expect.
“I can’t lie for you, Skye.” Waylon rubs the back of his neck and gives me a sad smile. “I’ve had a feeling that you’ve been stealing for a while now.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something before?” Rogue shouts.
I cringe and wrap my arms around myself, seeking comfort. “I didn?—”
“I’m not listening to any more of your bullshit right now,” Rogue bites out. He turns back to Waylon. “Continue.”
