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I scream at him.
“I’m really sorry about Candy. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Maybe we keep this between us and don’t tell Brody?” He slips my phone under the door with a hundred-dollar bill. Then he goes away.
I’m bleeding less now. The glass didn’t hit anything vital. No hospital. I’ll grab some bandage supplies from the bathroom when everyone’s asleep, and I’ll be perfectly fine.
I’m okay. I survived.
I wrap my arm with a shirt and make a tight knot as best I can. That will hold the skin together. Stop the bleeding.
Stop the bleeding.
Chapter Ten
Brody
I KNOCK SOFTLY ON PAIGE’S bedroom door. In my most calm and cheery tone, I say, “Paige? Amber made breakfast. Blueberry pancakes. Eggs. Bacon.”
No response.
I return to the kitchen to brood at the table. Paige hasn’t left her room all weekend. She doesn’t respond to texts. Or knocks. Or EDM music. Nothing. Not even porn. I tried to tempt her with a new DVD by sliding it under the door. She looked at it for a few minutes and then slid it back.
“You’re sure she’s still in there?” I ask Amber, who is staring at a plate of pancakes but not eating. “Maybe she snuck out in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah. I went outside to look through the window and she closed the curtain on me.” Fresh tears coat her cheeks. “I don’t know what happened. Why won’t she talk to me? I came back at nine because I felt bad leaving her here. Troy was gone, and she was in her room and wouldn’t open the door or talk to me.”
I touch her shoulder. I won’t press her about where she went, even though she was supposed to stay here. She’s distraught enough about Paige. Hell, so am I. I was distraught before I came home from the club on Friday night. I should’ve left earlier, especially since all I did was sulk in the corner while my buddies got lap dances.
Why the hell did I go? I wish I hadn’t because, like Amber, I have no idea what happened. Amber said Troy was here when she left, and Troy swears he left shortly after her. I’m lost. And an idiot. Paige is probably pissed at me for my childish, distant behavior. I would be pissed, too.
Amber sniffs. “She asked me to stay, but I didn’t and now she’s mad and will never forgive me. I lost the only good friend I’ve ever had. I’m the worst.” Tears fall on her pancakes. “I’m a rotten friend, and I failed her. All I do is hurt people. I’m such a horrible person.”
I rub her shoulder. “You haven’t failed anyone and you’re not a horrible person. It’s not all you. She’s probably mad at both of us.”
Her head whips up, eyes wide. “What did you do?”
I gulp. “Nothing. I mean, I wasn’t here either. She’s pissed that we both went out to have fun and left her.”
Thankfully, she accepts that explanation and nods. “I wish she would come out so I can apologize.”
“She’s been coming out sometime. The plates I leave in the fridge are empty by morning.”
“I’ll stay up and try to catch her.”
“I’ll do it,” I say.
She gives me a quizzical glare. “Why you?”
“You’re hysterical. I’ll be more cool-headed.”
Wiping her cheeks, she responds, “When are you ever cool-headed?”
“I will be.”
With a frown, she tries to eat her pancakes through soft sniffs and whimpers.
Tonight, I’ll catch Paige when she comes out to get food. I’ll apologize. Grovel. Whatever it takes because having her pissed at me is torture. Even more torturous than not being allowed to touch her when she appears naked in my shower.
I miss that. A lot.
