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It was late. Eight-thirty, just about. Alistair had come home not too long ago. I knew Rick couldn’t come strolling into this house without my mom asking a thousand questions, but I wished he could. I wanted to see him, now that I was better. I had vague, faint memories of him being the one to find me at the house.
I dialed his number, making sure Gareth was still watching. Not that I wanted to make him jealous by making him listen to the call, but… no, wait. That’s exactly what I wanted.
Rick picked up almost immediately, his husky voice a relief to hear, “Brianna. How are you? I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you.”
“I’m okay. I’m at home.” One glance to Gareth, and I saw his brows had furrowed, like he knew who I was talking to. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I never had the chance to ask.”
“I’m not the one who got kidnapped and drugged today.”
“True, but you and Gareth did have a little fight last night.” At the mention of it, Gareth’s scowl intensified, but I ignored him. “I’m glad he didn’t kill you.” I almost hated myself for saying this next part, but it had to be said, “And I’m glad you didn’t kill him.”
Rick let out a sound that was a mixture between a groan and a sigh. “It wasn’t for a lack of trying, on either of our parts. But let’s not talk about that right now. How are you feeling? Alistair told me what you said that kid did—”
Well, at least Alistair spread the word so I didn’t have to repeat the details of the story a bunch of different times. “I’m okay. I feel better now. Less…”
“Out of your mind?” Rick suggested.
I chuckled softly. “Yeah, less that. How did you find me, by the way?” The silence on the other side of the call made me uneasy, but I soon realized he was only silent because he didn’t want to tell me the truth. “Rick, how’d you find me?”
He was slow in saying, “When I didn’t hear from you after Gareth tried to get rid of me, I… may have used my connections to track you.” It was as if he knew admitting that would upset me, because he hurried to add, “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I didn’t want Gareth taking you somewhere else because our fight ended in a stalemate.” A reasonable fear, given everything Gareth had done to me so far. “When I saw you weren’t at home, that you were in the middle of nowhere, I headed straight there.”
All things considered, I couldn’t really be mad at Rick for tracking my phone. If he hadn’t, where would I be right now? Still inside that house, playing artist with Neo’s corpse?
“I’m sorry I went against your privacy like that,” Rick whispered, “but I’m also not sorry. When you’re involved with someone like Gareth, nothing’s off the table.”
It was as I stared at Gareth lounging and scowling on my bed that I asked, “Someone like Gareth, or someone like you?” Because it wasn’t Gareth that had tracked my phone, it was Rick. Gareth was much more a fan of actual stalking rather than cyber-stalking.
“Both,” he replied softly. “I’m afraid you’re in deep shit with all of us, Brianna. If you want a regular guy, you won’t find one in any of us.”
There was a time when I might’ve said something different, but all I could say to him now was, “Good. I don’t want a regular guy.”
Emphasis on theregularand theguypart. The regular part was self-explanatory; I think we all knew by now I’d get bored with a run-of-the-mill Joe Schmoe. And as for the guy part… well, it was the singular noun I was having trouble with currently.
I didn’t want a single, regular guy. I wanted three psychotically deranged men who were wrong for me in every sense.
Rick sighed into the phone. “I wish I could be there with you right now.”
There were a thousand reasons why he couldn’t, so I settled with saying, “Me, too. I should go, though. Maybe we can talk tomorrow if you’re not too busy with… you know.” I didn’t want to say it out loud, in case it jinxed the plan.
The fire. The investigation. Pinning everything on Neo even though there were no bodies.
“Try to have a good night, then. Get some rest. I’ll make sure everything is handled.”
“Goodnight.” I hung up the phone after that, meandering to my bed and plopping down with a soft sigh. “That was Rick, in case you were wondering.”
Gareth was reclining on my pillow, and he didn’t get up. He looked quite comfortable sprawled across my bed. “Yeah, I figured.” He could barely contain the irritation in his voice. He might be playing nice right now, but that didn’t shake the jealousy from his bones. Other than his murderous tendencies when I made him jealous, I found him kind of cute when he got all huffy.
“You should go,” I told him. “I am tired after today, believe it or not. And no secret midnight visits.” I wagged a finger at him, remembering what he’d told me when he had me tied up to this very bed, naked and exposed.
Sheesh. I was drugged twice in two days. Not something a lot of people could say.
He groaned, but he got up without a fight—which I wasn’t expecting. “Fine. I’ll go, but you can’t take away my midnight visits.” He ran a hand down his midsection, unabashedly over his groin, as if he were stroking himself over his pants. “I got used to them—”
I grabbed my pillow and chucked it at him, and he caught it with a smirk. “No midnight visits tonight, Gareth,” I repeated. “Promise me you’ll let me get uninterrupted sleep tonight. I need it.”
Gareth tossed the pillow back at me. “Okay, fine. I promise and all that shit. But just for tonight. Tomorrow night, it’s business as usual.” He shrugged, as if that was that, as if I had no say in the matter, and he turned to leave, heading toward the door.
“You’re such an ass,” I hissed out, and I’d bet anything he was smirking as he left.
