If she thought insulting my family would piss me off, it just shows how little she knows me. I take great satisfaction in hearing someone slander my father’s name, even if he doesn’t know she exists.
“It’s over,” Ronique fumes, snatching up the shoe she threw.
“It never began,” I point out. “I told you I don’t date.”
I thumb open my screen and see a text from Angel.
“And now I see why,” Ronique howls before I can read it. “Because you’re too hung up on your own sister. Oh my god, it’s so gross. I can’t believe I let you touch me.” She shudders dramatically and shoves her foot into her high heel.
She was waiting for me when I got back, looking all sexy, and she pounced the second I walked in the door. I would have sent her home, since I’d just nutted inside Mercy like a fucking one-pump chump the second I felt her hot, slick cunt gripping me, soaking my cock in Heath’s cum. But then Angel texted and said Mercy was coming over, so I figured letting her see my dick in Ronique’s mouth would show her how it feels to see her acting like a happy fucking family with my best friend.
I’ll be jerking off to the memory of her heartbreak for years to come.
Angel may have fucked her first, but I broke her. I smile with sick satisfaction at the thought.
“Is this funny to you?” Ronique screeches, mistaking my smile as having anything to do with her.
I open my text from Angel, knowing that ignoring Ronique will piss her off and get her out of the room faster. I’m done with her, anyway. It was fun needling Mercy by fucking around with her friend, but Ronique’s gotten too clingy and demanding.
9:17 AnAvengingAngel: M get there ok?
9:40 AnAvengingAngel: u seen h?
9:45 AnAvengingAngel: SOS
9:57 AnAvengingAngel: dude wtf pick up ur phone if ur alive
10:15 AnAvengingAngel: 911
“I’m out of here,” Ronique yells, stomping to the door.
I don’t even look up from my phone. Something’s wrong.
I’m out of bed in a moment, letting texts scroll while I pull up my jeans. I don’t even bother grabbing boxers, socks, or a hair tie. I just shove my feet in my tennis shoes and swipe my phone, shoving my head and arms through a shirt as I leave the room. A few people are trickling in from the movie, but I don’t stop to talk, even when a few of them call out to me. I shove past them and take the stairs two at a time, throw open the door to the dorm, and take off across campus.
My thumb hits the call button, and I see Angel’s face flash momentarily before he picks up on the first ring.
“You there?” he barks.
“I’m here,” I say, heading for the parking lot behind campus. “I’m good. I was with Mercy. What happened?”
“Where the fuck were you?” he demands. “I texted you a hundred fucking times and called you and—”
He breaks off, and in one horrifying moment, I realize that whatever happened is bigger than me not answering my phone, bigger than when I saw him fucking Mercy, bigger than when we saw her on campus the first time. This is something more, something that hasn’t happened since Eternity disappeared. In that moment, I realize nothing will ever be the same.
Because Angel didn’t drop the call. He didn’t break off in frustration at me. He broke off because he got choked up and couldn’t continue. Because he’s crying.
Angel North does not cry.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice tight. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“Faulkner Regional,” he says. “It’s Heath.”
My heart stops, and now I’m the one who can’t speak.
Heath isn’t just our friend. He’s not just our brother.
He’s more than that.
