Chapter 15
GARRET
“Yo, Garret?”
I turn my head to the left. It’s Clay from the team.
“What’s up?”
I face the tiles, the hot water from the shower easing my aching muscles. I’ve been drowning out my conflicting emotions about Rose in the pool, punishing my body because there’s no way I can look her in the eyes. I can’t take the words back—the ones that replay in my head like a badly written song.
“You going to the Ohio frat party tonight?”
“Nah, man. I think I’ll pass.”
I continue to stare at the tiles, pretending to listen. The last thing I want is to go eat shit at an Ohio party. I texted Rose and almost flung my phone against the wall when she didn’t respond. It’s like I can’t demand anything from her—not after what I learned.
“Some of us are going,” Clay drones on. “Prey will be there.”
Luke laughs. “Yeah, man. You don’t want those fucks from Ohio to get dibs.”
Some of the guys in Ohio are part of the Order. They don’t have power like I do or like the sons of Kenyan, but they follow the same rules and are rewarded handsomely for it. They also have dibs on Prey, and the guys love to show them that we have the power to show up and do whatever the hell we want.
“Like that girl you bring to school,” Clay says.
My vision narrows like I’m going through a tunnel. A loud sound goes off in my head, like nails on a chalkboard.
“What did you say?”
“That girl,” Clay says, glancing at the other guys in the shower. Some look away. Luke swallows hard, his face almost healed from when I hit him after he talked about Rose.
“What about her?” I growl, shutting off the water and snatching my towel.
Clay’s throat moves slowly as he swallows. “She went with that girl in her lit class. I overheard them talking about it in the hallway.”
“Are you sure?” I press, imagining some asshole touching her, breathing in her scent, not caring if she wants to or not. Getting her drunk enough to sleep with her.
My vision goes red, the piercing sound of my rage boiling in my ears. I barge out of the shower, grabbing my bag from my locker, the metal door slamming shut like a cannon going off.
“What the fuck? Is everything cool, man?” Clay asks tensely. “Did I say anything wrong?”
Zipping my bag, I grab my hoodie. “No. Thanks for the heads-up.”
I walk out and head to my car. The powerful engine roars as I press on the gas, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the different ways this will end. They all have one thing in common: they end with me murdering someone.
I drive up the sidewalk, not caring if I fuck up my car. I park on the grass, over the pathway leading to the front door, and jump out, ignoring the gasps and wide eyes when they see me.
“Nice car, man,” some idiot shouts.
I push open the door and scan the crowd. The moment I see her, the air grows thick. Her hands rest on the quarterback’s shoulders. His fingers press into her small waist. Something sharp twists under my ribs. Clarity slices through the noise. I should leave. Pretend this never happened.
Instead, my vision clears. His hands don’t belong on her. They should be pinned to the wall so the next asshole knows exactly what happens when he touches something that isn’t his.
He says something to her. She tilts her head back and laughs. A knife lodges itself in my gut. It takes me a moment to recognize what I’m feeling. Something I should have buried with the rest of my mistakes.
Jealousy is a poisonous thing. Envy is the vine that feeds it, curling under my ribs, constricting until I can’t breathe.
It’s why she didn’t answer my calls or texts.
“Hey, Garret! My man . . . you made it.” Billy walks up, slapping me on the shoulder like he always does, oblivious to the way I’m feeling. “You check out my man Spartan? Since that night at the diner, she’s all he talks about. The one that got away. The girl of his dreams.”
He laughs. I want to deck him in the throat, but I don’t. What would be the point? He has no idea what’s racing through my head—how dangerous he and his friend are from being cut to pieces.
“I saw some of the girls out back.”
He means the ones I mess with, but there’s only one I have my sights set on. And I’m the last person she wants to see.
“I’m not here for that.”
Billy follows my line of sight, then his eyes widen. “Shit! Hey, man. Listen—in his defense, he didn’t know. We don’t want any trouble.”
I can’t blame Leo or Billy. This is my fault. I should’ve noticed the signs. But I failed. The same way I failed with Jess. With Veronica. And now with Rose. My pulse pounds as I watch her.
Still laughing.
Still touching him.
I flex my fingers and count.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then I move.