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Aaaaannnnddd, I’m talking to my fucking vibrator.
Cray-fucking-cray I am!
My tummy growls, and I freeze, listening for any sound in the house. I have no idea what time it is because I don’t have a clock in my room. I’ve only ever used my phone. It’s been dark for hours, and I can’t remember the last time I heard a noise outside my bedroom door, the realisation making me grin.
Everyone is in bed.
I do an excited little jump because apparently, that’s what the occasion calls for, and I dash to my door, quietly pulling it open. Silence meets my ears, and my grin broadens as I slip out and creep quietly through the dark house. I’m on a mission to find my phone. Or my laptop. Either will do at this point. I’m not picky.
In the main living area, I flip a lamp on and start searching quietly through every drawer, cupboard, bag, and hiding spot I can find. When I don’t find anything, I move towards the front of the house and tiptoe through the home office. There are two desks in here. One for Cin and one for Will, and since it's off the same passage as their bedroom, I hold my breath as I pull open each drawer, searching for anything that will communicate with the outside world.
There’s nothing.
That means they have my phone in their room.
I sneak up to their door and listen. I can’t hear anything, but that doesn’t mean they are asleep. What if I crack the door and see Cin riding Will?
Ew! No thanks!
I enjoy watching people fuck, but I don’teverwant to seethemin the act.
My shoulders drop in defeat as my tummy rumbles again. I may not be able to get to my phone, but I can get to some food. Being hangry mixed with frustration and heartbreak is a bad combination. If I can eliminate one thing, then maybe the others will be more tolerable?
I tiptoe back to the kitchen and rummage through the pantry and fridge, making myself a quick roast beef sandwich before turning the lamp off and returning to my prison cell.
I could just cry. I feel so helpless right now. And antsy as fuck. It’s a frustrating combination.
After shutting my door, I place my plate on my bedside table right before I hear a weird noise.
Tapping.
Faint tapping is coming from my bedroom window. At first, I freeze, my heart in my throat because, helloooo horror movie! DON’T WALK TO THE WINDOW! But then, I get excited because I hear a hushed voice I recognise.
“Rhys, are you awake?”
I dart over to my window, reefing the curtains open wide to see my big guy standing on the other side of the glass, and a huge smile splits across my face.
“Garrett?” I whisper-yell, and he steps forward into the light flowing from my bedroom.
Then my smile drops.
His face. Each eye is bruised, and his nose looks a little swollen.
Moving quickly, I slide my window open and remove the flywire.
“Gar,” I whisper, reaching my hand out to him, and he steps forward, lifting himself in through my window. I step back to give him space, but the moment he has both feet planted on my grey carpet, he pulls me against his chest in the tightest hug I’ve ever received.
This hug isn’t for me. It’s for him, so I squeeze him tight, silently showing that I’m here for him. When I go to pull back, his grip on me tightens, and my heart breaks because I know he’s just been through an ordeal of his own.
Imagine if I had found a phone to call him on and rambled on about poor me, being locked in the tower, not able to get free. Of what? Loving parents who want to keep me safe? Yeah, my petty grounding situation doesn’t even compare to whatever Garrett has endured tonight. Sure, he has a loving mum and two loving sisters, but his dad is back from prison, and it looks like he’s out to make Garrett’s life hell.
“Sorry.” He whispers, slowly pulling back. “I would have called, but I didn’t get a chance to grab my phone. I… kinda left in a hurry.”
I gently cup his jaw, being careful not to hurt him, as I peer up into his glassy eyes. “You don’t have to call before you come and see me, Gar. Not that calling would have helped. My olds have my phone. But you’re welcome here any time.”
A slight grin tugs at his mouth, and his shoulders relax.
“What are the chances I can crash here tonight?” He looks nervous as he asks, and I grin.
