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Fuck.My chest instantly tightens and aches. I bring my hand up, trying to rub the spot where it hurts. Holy shit, what the fuck is this feeling?
Something inside of me shifts. It feels like the ground is opening up beneath me and my world is tilting on its axis. Why is the sight of her clinging to something ofmine, a piece ofme, so fucking powerful? Seeing her right now, like this, is making me want all sorts of shit. Shit that I can’t have.
Why and the hell did she go out of her way to get something of mine when she has two other boyfriends who live in the same damn house? Maybe she just grabbed it out of the laundry, thinking it was one of theirs.
No. I know that’s not the case because it’s the hoodie I wore for my morning run the day we left for Bakersfield and it’s been sitting on my bed where I left it. Well, it was.
Irritated and overwhelmed by the torrent of confusing emotions coursing through me, I bark out her name. She jolts, sitting up quickly and looking around the room as if preparing for an attack. It makes me feel like shit but I force the feeling down. She finally looks my way and locks eyes with me. For a brief second, she looks relieved, happy even, to see me. But then, she takes in the look on my face and the joy that was there only seconds ago morphs into an angry scowl.
Goddamnit. I sigh, running my hand over my face.
“Have you seen Stone? Or Quan? Why are you home alone?” I bark out my questions, forcing myself to hang on to the anger and irritation. It’s easier to deal with and process those emotions. Those I’m used to. The rest of the shit that's currently in my head, not so much.
She crosses her delicate arms over her small chest and purses her lips in a look of annoyance. It makes me smirk. She looks like a pissed-off kitten.
“Well, hello to you too asshole. Welcome home!” she snaps with all the attitude of a wet cat. It makes me laugh. “Why are you laughing? And why are you in my room? Ever heard of knocking?”
“I did knock. You were too busy cuddling my sweatshirt to hear me apparently,” I drawl as my eyes rake over her long, toned legs.
Her body isn’t your normal, bombshell body that men find themselves panting over. Her legs are long and her torso is short. Her chest is small but her ass is fucking phenomenal. Her face though, her face would have any man down on their knees for her. Myself included.
As if only just now realizing she doesn’t have any pants on, she screeches and throws a blanket over herself.
“No need covering up now, Isabella. I’ve already seen it all,” I gesture to her body and fight the urge to adjust my aching cock. It’s been rock hard since the second I walked in here and saw her like that. “Why are you wearing my hoodie anyways?”
Her face pinches and she pulls the blanket up higher as if she can hide it from me and I’ll forget. I won’t and she can’t. I arch a brow at her and she looks away. Her face is all scrunched up as she considered her response. She looks like she’s trying to decide how honest she wants to be.
Then she looks back at me, sits up a bit straighter, and lifts her brows in challenge, or maybe defiance. “I don’t know where Stone is but he did say that he sent Quan away when he got home.” Ah, so we’re ignoring my question. I shake my head, fighting the urge to full-on laugh at her. She really is adorable when she’s trying to be tough.
“What happened in the elevator?” I ask, allowing the subject to change for a moment. Her face contorts and she deflates a little bit. I immediately regret the question. I like her when she’s firey and combative. I don’t like her when she’s meek and timid.
“I had a flashback and a panic attack. Stone helped me get through it. A little unconventionally but it helped, a lot actually. He said I would crash afterward from all the adrenaline and I did after I took a bath which he also said would help. He’s a smart guy,” she huffs out a laugh. “A little odd there at the end, but he’s really nice and sweet.” She smiles as she looks down, playing with the string on the sweatshirt.
I want to ask about her panic attack but something keeps me from doing it.
“What else did he say? Did something happen before he freaked out and left?”
She scrunches her nose as she thinks about it before looking back up at me with a weird look on her face. “He said, ‘mi cielo,’ and then he just like froze after that.”
My heart fucking stops. What the fuck? No, no fucking way.
“Yeah, he kinda looked at me like that,” she laughs. “It meansmy skyright? I don’t know why he said it. He didn’t explain or anything just said it and then looked at me like, well, like I was a ghost or something. And then he stared at me for a while and then held my hand and then took off. Like I said, it was all very weird.” She shrugs, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that is brewing right in front of her.
Holy fucking shit. It’s her? It’s her. It can't be her. She’s dead. She died.
Oh fuck, he’s got to be flipping the fuck out right now.
“I have to go,” I murmur as I spin around and yank my phone out.
“Why does everyone keep looking at me like I’m crazy and then saying they have to go and running away? What the hell did I do?” she cries out but I’m already running down the hallway. I grab my keys and wallet off the entry table and hit dial on Gage’s number.
“Don’t leave the fucking house!” I bark out as I step into the elevator, the phone to my ear as I repeatedly stab the parking lot dial.
Hurt-Johnny Cash
“Hey, what’s up? Figure out why the brat isn’t answ-”
“You need to come home. Now!” I bark, interrupting him. The elevator opens and I run out, only just now noticing his bike is gone. Fuck. I hop into my car and switch my phone to speaker.
