23. Matty
Chapter twenty-three
“ Y ou ain’t shit compared to me, carino ," Christian says, steering the boat to a stop near the dock. His damp hair is tied up in a messy bun, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “I could do this blindfolded.”
The two of them have been arguing all afternoon over who’s the better wakeboarder, and I can’t help but laugh as Taylor scoffs, shoving his best friend on the shoulder.
“Prove it, fucker. Put your mouth where your asshole is.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?!”
They start wrestling near the boat’s edge, shoving and laughing as each tries to pitch the other overboard. Shaking my head, I step onto the dock, every muscle in my body sore and sunburned from hours of biffing it on the water.
Whoever the best wakeboarder is, it’s definitely not me. That’s for damn sure.
Glancing around, I search for my best friend, frowning when I don’t spot him.
“Where’s Xed?”
Huck shifts uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from mine in a way that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“He’s, uh… with Devon. Over by the truck. ”
“Oh.” My stomach twists as I glance toward the driveway.
Through the windows, I can barely make out Devon’s head bobbing above the truck’s roof, and that heavy, sinking feeling I’ve been trying to ignore settles in my gut.
I know I’m supposed to keep my distance and work on shoving us back into the friend zone where we belong, but the thought of them alone together, especially after what happened in Vegas, makes my skin crawl.
I start moving toward them, unable to stop myself.
It’s not that I think Xed would actually do coke around my daughter; he wouldn’t dare, but Dev on the other hand—
It’s the noises I hear first.
The wet shlick of skin on skin, chokes and gags, deep moans. As I round the truck, I freeze, blinking rapidly to process the scene before my eyes.
“ Fuuuck , you’re good at that.”
Xed’s on his knees, Devon’s hand gripping the back of his head, and all I can do is stare, suspended in some living nightmare.
A noise escapes my throat, a broken sob that causes Devon’s gaze to snap up and clash with mine, a grin spreading over his cruel features.
And then he winks. The asshole fucking winks while my best friend chokes on his big, pierced dick.
My vision goes red.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, my fist slams into Devon’s face, the crack of bone against skin ringing in my ears. His head snaps back, hitting the truck window with a dull thud. I’m already raising my arm for another blow when Xed’s voice cuts through the haze of anger.
“Matty, stop! ”
He scrambles to his feet, stepping between us, throwing up a hand to block my aim. I try to pull back, but it’s too late.
To my horror, my knuckles collide with Xed’s brow, the force knocking him to the ground. The second he hits the dirt, my anger evaporates, replaced by a cold, sickening dread.
“Shit, Xed! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to!”
Devon and I both lunge forward to help him up; our hands outstretched at the same time.
“Don’t touch me,” Xed hisses, cradling his face. Devon ignores him, wrapping an arm around Xed’s bicep to help him stand.
“Didn’t you hear him?” I growl, grabbing Devon’s arm. “He said not to touch him!”
“I wasn’t talking to Devon,” Xed snaps, glaring at me with one bloodshot eye. He swats my hand away and leans heavily into Devon, getting to his feet. My heart drops into my stomach as he turns his face toward me, blood streaming down his cheek from a jagged gash above his eye, where his eyebrow piercing used to be.
“Xed, I—" My throat tightens as I stammer. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t aiming for you, I swear.”
I reach out, desperate to cradle his face to assess the damage, but he flinches away like my touch burns him.
“Why were you even aiming at all?!” His voice is sharp and raw, cutting me deeper than any blow could.
He backs away, clutching the wound on his brow as blood drips onto the dusty ground. His every step feels like a dagger twisting in my chest.
“Just... leave me the hell alone, Matty.”
The words land like a final blow, and I’m too stunned to respond, watching helplessly as he climbs onto the back of Devon’s bike. Blood stains his shirt, his hand still pressed to his brow, and my heart shatters as they peel out, kicking up a cloud of dust.
I stand frozen, staring after them, my chest hollow, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.