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A dry laugh bubbles out of his mouth. “A football game. A fucking football game.” Suddenly, he grips my shirt and pulls me into him. “Has no one ever taught you how to answer your goddamn phone?”
Grabbing his wrists, I force him off me and straighten my shirt. “Hasn't anyone taught you not to be a fucking douchebag? I'm sure you were just fine without me, princess.”
He scoffs. “Ray was arrested tonight with half a supply of heroin on him.”
His words spark no sympathy in me. Ray knew what he was getting into when he made the decision to deal drugs. I also don't believe for a second that Blade is worried about him.
“Boss is fucking pissed. All that product, fucking gone.”
Yep. There it is.
“That sucks and all, but I don't know what the fuck this has to do with me.”
He shakes his head and pulls a package out of his waistband. “You've got to sell all this.”
“And get arrested, too?” I step back. “No fucking way. I'm not doing it.”
That only seems to piss him off more. He pulls the switchblade out of his pocket and comes closer, putting it to my neck. His face is so close to mine, I ne
arly gag on his breath, but I wouldn't put it past him to stab me. The dude is a fucking psycho.
“I think you're starting to forget who the boss is here, Bronsyn,” he growls. “Or do I need to find someone who will listen better? Easton, perhaps?”
I contemplate my options for a moment, but none of them result in Easton and me both making it away safely. Either I do this shit, or he pulls my best friend right back into this mess. And Blade with a vendetta is so much worse than just Easton choosing to work for him before. He'd get him to overdose just for revenge.
Ripping the package from him, I roll my eyes, and he smirks as he steps back.
“Now that wasn't so hard, was it, Zaynie?”
The nickname causes the hair on my arms to stand straight up. “What did you just call me?”
That arrogant grin on his face only becomes more irritating. “You like that, huh?” I swallow hard. “You didn't honestly think I just assume you’re doing your job, did you?”
“You're fucking stalking me?”
He tilts his head to the side. “More like watching over what's mine—like your loyalty.”
With a wink, he turns around and walks off into the woods. For a minute, I can't move.
If he heard Kennedy call me that, he knows about Amelia.
Fuck.
MY PHONE RINGS SHORTLY after two in the morning. I groan as I roll over and grab it off the nightstand. Carter Trayland's name flashes across the screen. I consider not answering, but for him to call me at this hour, it has to be for a reason. And if it's not, I'll punch him right in that pretty boy face of his.
“This better be good, Trayland,” I answer groggily.
He chuckles into the phone. “Aw, did I wake Sleeping Beauty?”
“Fuck off and tell me what you want. I'm not in the mood for your shit.”
“You're feisty in the middle of the night,” he quips. “I like it.”
Without hesitation, I hang up and drop the phone on my stomach. Only a couple seconds go by before it's ringing again. Despite wanting to throw it across the room, I take a deep breath and answer it.
“You hung up on me!” he pretends to whine.
I snort. “I did, and if you don't stop being such a chick and tell me why you're calling me, I'm going to do it again.”
