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Me: How did you get my number?
As I wait for a reply, I save his number in my phone.
Long minutes pass, and he doesn’t respond.
Each interaction with this guy, be it a visit in the middle of the night, or a run-in at a party, is beyond fucked up. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s read my message by now, so why isn’t he responding? Why is Ridge so vague and mysterious?
“Shit.” Suddenly, it hits me that Scar is still missing.
What if this was just a distraction to buy time and he’s done something to her?
Horrified at the thought, I manically search the house. I’m opening and closing doors to bedrooms, closets, bathrooms. I didn’t realize until now how big this place really is. Then again, it houses quite a few guys so I’m not sure why I’d expect it to be small. There’s at least six bedrooms and four bathrooms and I haven’t even started my search of the basement.
“Scar,” I call out, hoping like hell I get a response this time.
I’m on the second floor, tearing open a shower curtain, when I hear a door close downstairs. My body can hardly keep up with my feet as I flee from the bathroom and down the stairs. Slipping on one of the hardwood steps, I grab the banister and catch myself before I bust my ass.
“Scar? Is that you?”
By the time I make it back into the living room, I’m breathless, and now in a state of confusion when I see that the front door is open. My eyes are wide and alert as they skim the room with each cautious step I take toward it.
“Scar,” I say again, this time my voice almost a whisper.
A gust of wind ripples through the door, and the cool air hits my face. I pick up my pace, crossing the room to the door. Gripping tightly to the handle, I lean forward and look outside, only to find nothing. I slam the door shut and take a step backward, until I bump into something, or rather, someone.
At first thought, I assume it’s Scar, but when I fall back into the stranger’s arms and look up, I see that it’s Cade. He reaches around me and clicks the lock on the door, the sound deafening, like a prison gate closing. My breath catches in my throat as I steady myself and come forward onto my feet.
I spin around and plant my hands to his chest. Shoving him back a few steps, I hiss, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Unaffected by my outburst, Cade rubs his chin. “Because it’s my house. Why the fuck are you here?”
This is a complete one-eighty from how flirtatious he was earlier and I’m completely turned off right now. “I’m on cleanup, asshole.”
“Then quit snooping around when you should be cleaning up this mess.” He kicks an empty can that rolls across the living room floor.
“Please tell me why you think it’s any of your business what I do?”
He reaches for my cheek, a cocky grin on his face, but I slap his hand down aggressively.
“Don’t touch me. I don’t even know you.”
A subtle laugh climbs up his throat, and he glances away, tracing his mouth with his fingers. “Oh, I see how it is. You like to play? All right,” he holds his hands up in surrender, curling his fingers toward his chest, “we can do this your way. Come here.”
Everything Scar said about this guy is right. He is a creep. My shoulders tighten, the tendons on my neck standing out. “Scar!” I shout loudly before walking toward the kitchen again.
I’m stopped halfway when Cade throws his arm around my waist. “Whoa. Whoa. Where do you think you’re going?”
A loud knock at the door has my soul practically jumping out of my body. “Calm down, baby girl. I’ve got you.”
In an attempt to shove Cade away, I fail miserably when he only tightens his hold on me. Spinning me around, my chest is flush with his and he holds me with both hands, wrapping me in a tight hug.
“That’s the problem. I don’t want you to have me.” I raise both hands to his chest and push hard, but, once again, he shows he’s the dominant one here.
The knocks grow stronger and louder and I’m hopeful it’s someone who would help me. Scar—maybe even Ridge.
Scar is obviously gone and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Cade got rid of her somehow, just so he could have me alone in this house. With my options limited, I call for help from someone else. “Ridge!” It’s not a longshot, considering he’s everywhere I am.
“Ridge?” Cade chuckles. “Ridge Foster? You mean Freakshow? What do you want with him?”
