“Blaise… I know you’re angry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have cheated on you with Cole, but…you were into it. Please, can we talk? Call me back.”
Lowering the phone from my ear, I delete Mia’s voice message, and then I remove her countless other ones. I don’t care for her excuses. I’m done. Why did I even keep up the pretense for so long? I was never in love with her. She was nothing more than a wet hole, and she kept my father off my back. In fact, I thought she was okay, until I caught her inthe shower with Cole. The image of them naked together won’t fucking leave, and the fury that died down, rises back up when I glance at Cole’s hand on the steering wheel. His cracked knuckles grip the steering wheel as though he has a vendetta against it. “What crawled up your ass?” I ask as I pocket my phone.
He snorts, and the sound makes me grit my teeth as I look out the window.
“Why did you do it?”
I swing my eyes back in his direction. “Do what?”
He looks like he’s tasted something sour as his hands wring the steering wheel. “You know fucking well what I’m talking about.”
Frowning, I stare at his side profile until he finally looks at me, and when those dark eyes lock on mine, my heart thuds hard. I cross my arms and say, “No, I don’t. Why don’t you fucking tell me what I’ve done. Enlighten me.”
A muscle tics in his jaw, and he scoffs bitterly. “Why Jackson, of all guys?”
“Jackson?”
We drive past boarded-up shops, but the depressing view outside is the last thing I see when Cole slams his hand down on the steering wheel. “You fucked my friend, Blaise.”
My mouth opens and closes, but then his words register, and a harsh laugh rips from my throat. I shake my head. “That’s fucking rich coming from you. Have you forgotten I found you and Mia together in the shower yesterday.”
“So, it was revenge? Is that it?” Sucking on his teeth, he nods. “You fucked Jackson to get back at me.”
“Get over yourself,” I growl. “I’m so over this.”
“Over this?” he spits, but there’s an undertone of insecurity in his voice. I know him too well—something he seems to forget.
“You’re not into guys, Cole. I get it, okay? You’ve made your fucking point. You want me to stay away from you. Guess what? That also means you don’t get to be jealous.”
“I’m not jealo?—”
“Shut up, Cole. I’m done with your excuses. I’m done chasing you and hurting because of you. You want me, Cole? I’m right here.”
Breathing hard, he pulls over by the roadside, and the car idles in the silence.
“I’m here.” My voice breaks. “I’m here, Cole…but you won’t look at me.” The ache in my chest is back, and now it’s multiplied. I struggle to breathe when he stares out the windscreen. “I’m. Here.”
When he stays quiet, I grind my teeth.Please say something. Please look at me.
Pushing open the door, I climb out.
Cole doesn’t follow.
The car stays idling behind me as I kick up the dirt and swipe at my wet cheeks. One thing is becoming clear. I need to get over this stupid crush. Cole’s made his point, and I need to claw my heart from my chest and burn it to fucking ashes. Maybe then I’ll stop hurting.
Blaise is still storming through the woods an hour later while I watch him, following, stalking, keeping my eyes on his shadowy form through my mask.
I hear the snap of branches, the muttered words under his breath, and my heart races the closer I get. If he keeps going forward, he’ll reach the river. Our town isn’t for miles – Jackson lives the farthest away of my friends. Ex friend. I might kill him if I see him again.
My knuckles burn, but I ignore them as I pull my hood up to hide my hair, inhaling the smoke as I slip my mask up to take a drag.
Nothing calms me.
Nothing but the thought of hurting him. Driving my fist into his face like I did with Jackson won’t do shit for my temper, yelling at him will make me madder, so this is my next best option.
I’m silent on my feet, careful not to give myself away. Keeping the hoodie and mask in the trunk was a good idea. As soon as he slammed the car door and started walking, then slid into the trees, I let my rage win and I fell into my own little ruseof being the unidentified fucker who can’t keep his hands off Blaise.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, the feeling of being so fucking twisted and careless and injected with motivation pushing me forward, making sure I don’t lose him.
