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The afternoon passes in a blur. It’s been a weird day, all things considered, but definitely better than yesterday was.
My dad’s phone call from last night still plays on repeat in my head, making my stomach churn. But at least I’m not drunk or high anymore. As painful and awful as it is to face reality, it’s nice to be clearheaded and not rolling on drugs I didn’t even mean to take.
In the late afternoon, I call to check in with Scarlett, lying on my bed and speaking in a low voice as I fill her in on everything. She seems as freaked out as I am by my dad’s words, which I repeat back to her practically verbatim. They’re seared into my memory, it feels like.
She knows my dad well. He practically raised her too, considering her own home life was pretty fucking shitty and she spent more time at our house than at hers when we were kids.
She knows how determined he is, and just like I do, she knows he wouldn’t say the kind of things he said unless he really thought he might not make it. He wouldn’t worry me for nothing.
But even though I can tell Scar is scared just like I am, she stays calm and tries to talk me off the ledge of panic, reminding me that my dad wins so often in the ring not just because he’s strong, but because he’s smart.
“Thanks, Scar,” I murmur when we’ve talked it out as much as we can. “I love you.”
“You too, hot stuff. It’ll be okay.”
We hang up, and I lie on the bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling. I take several deep breaths, letting a sort of calm wash over me.
I can still feel where Rory kissed me, still feel the pleasant soreness from fucking Levi, and for once I’m not freaking out about it. Levi’s promised to help me figure out what’s going on with my dad, and Rory hasn’t really given me any reason to doubt him either.
They’re both better men than I would have given them credit for when I first met them, and finally, that pit of anxiety in my stomach seems like it’s starting to ease a little.
Maybe there’s still a way out of this. Maybe it will be okay.
I need to talk to Sloan though. And that’s… that’s a kind of anxiety all of its own. Out of the three of them, he’s the only one I haven’t seen since last night. I remember him being pissed off when we got back to the house, but I can’t tell if it was him being mad at me for making an idiot of myself in public again or him being angry at the situation. Or him just being pissed because he’s Sloan, and he’s always pissed.
He hasn’t come to check on me, or ask if I’m doing better, which probably doesn’t bode well, and my face heats as I sit alone in my room, thinking about the embarrassment I’m going to feel if he heard me fucking Levi too.
I’m not ashamed of it. We both wanted it, and we’re both consenting adults. But still, I don’t really want to face Sloan if he knows about it. I’m sure it’ll just be another thing that’ll make him irrationally angry.
Whatever Sloan’s weird issue about me being around other guys is, I don’t know if it extends to the men in this house. But if it does, that’s his problem. I’m not going to stop myself from doing what I want just because he’s got a stick up his ass and doesn’t know how to communicate except through being a dick.
Rory kissed me like he wanted to be the only one I could taste, but somehow, I figure whatever Sloan’s reaction is will be less pleasant.
But I do need to talk to him. He’s the closest to the top of the hierarchy in the Black Roses. His dad is the leader, and if anyone knows what’s going on, it’ll be Sloan. I don’t know what kind of sway he has with his father, but maybe he’ll at the very least have some information I can use. Something to let me know that my dad is okay so that worry will stop eating a hole in my stomach like acid.
The real trick will be getting him to tell me if he does know something.
Of all of these men, Sloan’s the one who’s probably least likely to give up sensitive information. Maybe he has more riding on it, maybe it’s a family loyalty thing, but I don’t see it being easy. And I’m not sure he’s the type to tell me what I want to know after a good fuck like Levi.
There was definitely nothing soft or open about the way we almost hooked up, weeks ago now, and it left him more closed off than he was before, if that’s even possible.
I don’t have a plan, really. I’m not sure what angle to go with or how to best get him to open up to me. The best thing I can think of is just to ask—to let him know it really means something to me and hope for the best.
It’s not a very good plan, but it’s all I’ve got when I leave my room and go looking for Sloan.
The house is pretty quiet, which isn’t that weird for a Sunday. Rory must be with Piper and Jen, and Levi’s probably downstairs in the gym. None of the guys track my movements that closely anymore. They’ve obviously realized I’m not going to run, and that they don’t need to monitor me twenty-four seven.
I make my way down the hall, deciding to try Sloan’s room first to see if he’s there before I head downstairs to look.
As I get close to his room, I can hear his voice, raised slightly in conversation. No one answers him back that I can hear, so he must be on the phone.
My footsteps slow, and I reach out to rest a hand against the wall as I crane my neck a little.
His voice is low, and he’s talking like he doesn’t want to be overheard, but also like he’s trying to convey some urgency to whoe
ver he’s talking to. There’s no anger in his voice for once, but he sounds weird either way. Something about his tone makes me anxious to know what he’s saying. I hold my breath and tiptoe a little closer, trying to see if I can figure out what he’s talking about.
I can’t tell who he’s talking to just from his side of the conversation, and I frown, leaning closer to the door and hoping the floorboards won’t creak beneath my feet and give me away.
