Page 97 of The Devils They Are
"You'll survive," Ry shoots back, crossing his arms.
The two of them glare at each other, and I sigh, throwing my hands up. "Alright. What crawled up your asses?"
"Askhim." Rylan nods toward Hunter, who just scoffs.
"I knew this would be your reaction. I'm disappointed, Rylan."
Both of them ignore me. I need a spray bottle or something. If I squirted them in the face, surely that would bring them out of whatever testosterone fueled match-off this is. Perhaps H found out about the funeral on the weekend. I wasn't going to go but Soph insisted I tag along with her. Apparently, Iowed itto Spencer. While I didn't necessarily agree, my mathematical panic kind of drove me to go. The last thing I need or want is to be stuck with that stupid equation. Which I'll never get done if these two don't hurry up.
Soph mentioned something about dragging Spencer to the Mall. Then after they are finished, we have to study. The deadline is fast approaching, and I can't afford to fail this class. Especially since Hunter thought it was a great idea to change classes last minute.
"You have no idea what the fuck you are doing," Rylan snaps at Hunter. "You took it too far."
"Took what too far?" I interject, annoyed. "Someone tell me what's going on."
H rolls his eyes, twirling his hand in Rylan's direction. "Go on then. I know you're chomping at the bit to throw me under the bus."
Ry's darkened glare finds my face. "Hunter kidnapped Bexley."
"What?!" I shout.
"Oh, spare me the theatrics, Rylan," Hunter groans. "It was not a kidnapping."
"Then what would you call it?"
"A lesson."
I rub a hand down the side of my face. "When?"
"Friday night," Rylan says sharply. "After the fights. Hunter handcuffed her to that shitty, bolted down desk in our changing room. Not even touching on the fact that she was half-naked and injured, but she nearly missed Saturday morning."
I suck in a breath, finally realizing the seriousness of this. No wonder Ry is pissed. He's gotten close to Spencer lately and despite what people think, he's a protective little shit.
"Her truck?" I direct at Ry, remembering our conversation on Saturday morning.
He nods in reply. "She would have missed it if you hadn't seen her truck in the parking lot."
Hunter huffs, listening to our exchange. "Nice to see you are both still against me."
"We're not against you," Ry shoots back angrily. "But Bexley isn't our enemy anymore."
"Of course she is," he argues. "You're just too blind to notice. Which is also why you didn't bother to tell me that you were fucking her."
My eyebrows dart into my hairline. We should have known that Hunter would figure it out. He's too clever and a master of reading between the lines. And that's exactly why he didn't say anything either—he wanted to prove a point.
"Is that what it's about?" Ry whispers heatedly. "Jealousy or something?"
Well, at least he's not denying it. They are close to butting heads and the last thing we need is a punching match.
"I'm not fucking jealous! You're just blind to what's happening in the real world!"
"Hunter…" I warn, shaking my head.
He turns to me, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not surprised you knew, T. But you are just as guilty here for not saying anything. You led me to believe that you were on my side."
"I'm on both of your sides," I groan. "But Ry is right. There are bigger things to worry about right now. Spencer isn't the threat."
"You idiots can't see what she's doing to us."
