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Chapter Four
"Dad gave you the Raptor?"Rhys peers at me suspiciously.
We’re approaching the cars. Another black SUV is on the other side of the Defender—George’s mode of transportation. I avoid direct eye contact when I mumble, "Not necessarily."
I feel myself blush and speed up my pace as George rats me out. "Your father caught her with the burner. She took the truck as she made a run for it."
Maybe I should just broadcast my every action since I have zero privacy as it is.
Spinning on my heels, I'm about to snap a retort when Rhys snorts. "You're giving me a run for my money in pissing Dad off."
He’s referring to the fact that the Raptor has replaced the Defender on the do-not-touch list. No one but Tristen drives it. He loves his black monstrosity, but the real reason is that he has an AR stashed in a locked box under the backseat, and when Heather found out, she laid down the law. Her kids would not drive an assault rifle through town—loaded or not.
I don’t have any desire to continue this conversation, plus I want to know what George found out. "Where are we going?"
"You are both going home. I will be in touch later. We can't risk being seen together, and as soon as your mother is home, Tristen will be on his way here,” George explains and then levels Rhys with a glare. "You didn't leave your phone."
"Fuck! I forgot."
He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
Rhys reaches inside his jacket and pulls out his cell. Three sets of eyes take in the device. The movement makes the screen light up with several social media notifications, and when I lean closer, I read the one name I didn't expect to see: Kat Rosenfield.
Narrowing my eyes at him, he lifts both hands in a surrendering gesture, his phone between his thumb, index, and middle fingers. "I'm getting push notifications whenever she posts. I want to know what she's up to and who I have to deck next."
I rub my hands over my face. I have a good idea what she's posting about this time. I let my arms drop to my sides and gaze past the two men into the distance.
"Calla?" Rhys says my name carefully.
"I ran into Katherine on my way here," I admit.
Rhys swipes over the notification and starts reading with George hovering behind him, focused on the screen as well. Rhys's nostrils flare, and a knot starts forming in my stomach.
"What?"
When neither of them responds, and George's mouth turns his usually stoic features into a slash of disapproval, I tear the phone out of Rhys's hand and scan the newest rumor.
Kat Rosenfield:
If banging her brother isn’t enough, now she’s trying to run me over. Check out that bitch’s deranged face when I tried to cross the street to Café Chai earlier. Psycho much?
Comments:
Meghan LG: OMG, she’s insane!
Nora Ross: R u ok? What’s wrong with her? First she steals ur bf, then she tries to kill u? Someone do something!!!!!!!!!
Owen J: Don’t u think ur exaggerating a bit? What’s with all the !!!, Nora?
Kellan J: I’m with O
Lisa Bennett: U guys r just pissing ur pants that Rhys finds out.
Kat Rosenfield: If you don’t believe me, here is the proof. She almost crashed into poor Mrs. Heatherway.
In the comments,Katherine posted the video of me cutting off the other car in the intersection, followed by speeding down the road. Sure enough, it's Mrs. Heatherway's ancient Honda I almost slammed into. I didn't recognize her in my haste to get away. She's the sixty-plus-year-old woman who owns the tailor shop next to Café Chai and does all the alterations for the school's cheer uniforms. She took in my homecoming dress last year and is the sweetest lady. Kat using her to make me look certifiable ignites a rage I haven't felt in a while. I skim over more comments.
Nora Ross: They better not let that crazy slut come back to school. None of us are going to be safe. We all know what T. McGuire drives around in that truck.
