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1. That wasn’t Noah’s car.
2. That wasn’t Vanessa’s car.
3. That wasn’t Noah upstairs in the bedroom with my stepmom.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Ryan. “I forgot something.”
Unfastening my seat belt, I bolted toward the front door.
What if I’m wrong? I don’t want to walk in on them having kinky sex!I couldn’t shut off the paranoia.
Vanessa’s moans were like rough, manly grunts that only got louder when I reached the top of the stairs. Edging closer to the bedroom, I noticed the door was slightly open as I glimpsed at a man’s hairy buttocks and a buzzed haircut.
She’s in bed with Amir!I couldn’t believe she was cheating on Noah. But more than anything, I needed to tell him the truth.
What if he doesn’t believe you?My conscience warned.
I needed proof. Reaching into my pocket, I was about to pull out my phone when I remembered it was in Ryan’s car.
Fleeing the house, I grabbed what I needed, and quickly took a snap of Amir’s vehicle and license plate.
That should be enough evidence,I concluded.
Um, no! Get your ass back inside and go all Joey Greco on that bitch!
That television host was always so calm while confronting cheaters. I was shaky with adrenaline—which meant all pending actionsandreactions were unpredictable.
“You got what you needed?” Ryan asked, turning the ignition.
Stop stalling and go back!My mind screamed at me.
“Aria?”
“Yeah”—I snapped out of it—“let’s head back to school.”
How could you wimp out like that? Take down that bitch! The little voice in my head wouldn’t stop harassing me.
Reaching the end of the driveway, Ryan was about to make a right turn when I unfastened my seat belt and cried out in panic, “Wait! Go back!”
“Forgot something?”
“Yes! Turn around, please!”
“All right, take it easy.” He put the car in reverse, as the whirring sound of the spur gears got louder with speed.
Adrenaline was coursing through my veins; I desperately needed it for my next move. As soon as he put the vehicle in park, I opened the passenger door and stepped out.
“Do you need me to come in with you?”
“No, I’ll be right back.”
“You sure? You’re acting strange.”
I didn’t have time to answer him as I slammed the door shut. Seconds later, I strode inside the house like a soldier invading enemy territory—minus the firearms.
The sex noises got louder as I retraced my steps. Pulling out my cellphone, I crept closer to the bedroom door and braced myself. This was it: the confrontation.
“Oh, Amir! Harder…”
