40. Hayden
HAYDEN
THREE WEEKS LATER
T he loud banging rips me out of sleep, and my first instinct is to reach for the gun in my nightstand. Everything might be over, but I’m not taking any chances of letting my guard down. It’s been a few weeks since we got rid of all the fuckers my sister convinced to help with her stupid little game. So far we haven’t been questioned about anything other than briefly like every other student. Ramsey really came through, providing us with alibis and altering the digital footprint of everyone involved to ensure no one would suspect we took care of things ourselves.
Madison stirs against me, her body molded perfectly to mine. I’m still inside of her trapping my cum exactly where it belongs, and the thought of having to pull out makes me irrationally angry.
“Shh,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Go back to sleep, princess.”
She hums something mostly incoherent, but I hear my name and I can’t help but grin. Pulling out of her slowly, I feel her walls clench instinctively, and it’s almost enough to keep me in bed. Her pussy is swollen and slick from all the times I couldn’t keep my hands off her, but I force myself to slide out gently.
I tug on a pair of sweats and grab my gun. The banging continues, and I swear under my breath. If this isn’t life-or-death, someone’s about to regret existing.
I yank open the door, my gun raised just enough to make a point, and I’m met with Callum’s goofy ass face.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, big guy, calm down. It’s just me,” he says, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering, but the smirk on his face ruins the effect.
I glare at him, lowering the gun but keeping my finger on the trigger just to make him sweat. “What the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night? Don’t you know how to use a fucking phone? Nevermind, I don’t want you calling me either.”
Callum laughs, his eyes sweeping up to my hair. “By the looks of your hair, you were balls deep in?—”
I cock the gun without hesitation, and his laughter explodes into a full-blown cackle. “Say her name, and you’ll have to drag your own dead body up to fucking Castlebrook Falls.”
“Jeez, it was a joke! Chill the fuck out,” he says, waving a hand like I’m the one being unreasonable.
I’m going to beat one of my only two friends to death for annoying me. I frown because that’s not going to be easy to explain to my angelic girlfriend, soon-to-be fiance. That fucking ring is burning a hole in my pocket, but I’m waiting for the perfect time. The perfect moment. I’m not telling anyone that I’m proposing because I want it to be just between the two of us. No risk of anyone spilling the beans. No one is going to ruin this for me, and if they do, the fallout that will ensue will make this last semester seem like a walk in the park.
“What do you want?” I snap, leaning against the doorframe, the irritation clear in my tone.
He sobers from his laughter slightly, though the smirk never fully leaves his face. “I need your help.”
“Clearly.” I cross my arms over my chest, my patience hanging by a thread. “Spit it out.”
“Do you know where I can get a custom ring made quickly? It’s a family heirloom, so I can’t just send it anywhere.”
I blink, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“Your father has all sorts of fancy companies in his pocket, do you think he can help me out?” he’s acting like this is a normal question to ask at two in the fucking morning when he’s never had a girlfriend. Actually, now that I think about it, this motherfucker hasn’t even been on an actual date before.
I stare at him, trying to process the sheer absurdity of this conversation. “Am I dreaming? Did I hit my head? Are you seriously banging on my door at 2 AM because you want to buy a diamond ring?”
Callum rolls his eyes. “Can you hook me up or not? You know I’ve got the cash for it.”
I know I’m going to regret it before I even ask, “For who?” I rub a hand over my face, debating if I should just shut the door and go back to Madison.
The sound of shattering glass jerks us out of our conversation. Neither of us are startled because we know immediately where it’s coming from.
“Tristan,” I mutter, my jaw tightening.
Another crash follows, louder this time, and I push off the doorframe, ready to barge in and check on him. I don’t feel like dealing with this tonight. It’s been like this for weeks now. Since everything has calmed down for us, his night terrors are back in full force. He won’t see anyone to find out if they can do anything to help him, and the only thing that calms him down is Winter.
“I wish he’d just fuck her and stop torturing himself,” Callum says, the frustration in his voice barely masking the concern he feels. Tristan is a big fucking dude and when he’s trying to hurl furniture at you in the middle of the night, it’s not a fun time for anyone.
“Same,” is all I can say.
Callum leans back against the wall, pulling out his phone. “Seems like they’re happening more frequently,” he says, tapping the screen. He’s texting Winter, and I almost feel bad sending her in there with him like that. She’d be pissed if we didn’t wake her though, she feels responsible for him.
I run a hand through my hair as another crash comes from Tristan’s room, this time with a deep anguished yell. He tries so fucking hard to keep her away from it, to hide the torment he’s dealing with, but it’s pointless. Winter’s the only one who can pull him out of it. She’s the only one he trusts enough to let close when he’s like this.
I don’t know why he won’t just suck it up and tell her he needs her to sleep in his room with him. It’s not like she hasn’t before, but then again, I don’t know their full history and I don’t need to. I just want everyone to be fucking okay so I can go back to bed.
Callum looks at me like he wants to say something, but just exhales sharply instead. “What is it?” I clip out the words.
“I think it’s a lot worse than we thought,” Callum says, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“I was fucking around the other day while he was sleeping on the couch. I stole one of his earbuds in just to annoy him and–” Callum turns to stare down the hallway instead of finishing the fucking thought.
“If you tell me some bullshit about his music choice, I swear to fuck I’ll beat you to death in this hallway.” I need Madison out here because when we’re not touching in some capacity, I have no patience for this shit. I’m trying to be better for her, and I’ve already fucked up and threatened murder.
Callum snickers because he loves nothing more than to rile up me and Tristan. Tristan hasn’t been sleeping much lately, so I’m not surprised he dozed off on the couch.
Callum shakes his head and leans in conspiratorially before saying, “It was just someone breathing. He couldn’t get off the couch quick enough to catch me.” Callum must see the confused look on my face because he says, “I thought it was some meditation shit or something. After a few seconds, Winter's voice was clear. She mumbled something and then said his name.”
“I don’t–” I stop speaking because it clicks. “He records her while she’s sleeping so he can listen to it to try and sleep.”
We don’t get to finish our speculation because Winter rounds the corner. There’s a determined expression on her face that tells me she knows exactly what she needs to do to help him. She’s in one of his hoodies and those stupid footless socks that look like if she pulled them up to full length they’d stretch from her head to her feet. She’s so focused that she doesn’t even glance at me or Callum as she walks past. She just slips into Tristan’s room and closes the door behind her without a word.
“He’s gonna hurt her one of these times,” Callum mutters, pushing off the wall and heading down the hall toward his room. “She’s tiny.”
I don’t answer. He’s not wrong, but Winter’s not scared of Tristan, not even a little. She knows exactly what she’s walking into, and she does it anyway. Every single time. Callum and I have always suspected that Tristan’s night terrors trace back to the carjacking. To the night he had to hurt Winter to save her. He doesn’t talk about it, but we all know it left scars on him, deeper than he’ll ever admit. And now, every night, he relives it.
Another crash comes from behind Tristan’s door, muffled now, followed by a sharp guttural groan that’s quickly silenced.
Callum pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “Text me that number. I need a rush order.”
I scowl at him, my irritation flaring again. “Go fuck yourself and don’t knock on my door again,” I snap, but he just grins, unbothered, and keeps walking.
I sigh, shaking my head and duck back into my room. The second I step inside and see Madison, the tension in my body eases and that’s not an exaggeration.
Madison’s still sprawled across the bed, her hair spilling over the pillow, her lips parted as she breathes softly in her sleep. Pride sweeps through me that I’ve tired her out enough that she can sleep so peacefully, not a care in the world.
I set my gun back in my drawer and then grab my phone. I shoot Callum the contact for the jeweler because I know he’ll just bug me about it tomorrow if I don’t. I toss my phone into the nightstand and crawl back into bed next to my girl. She stirs as I pull her against me, her body warm and soft, fitting perfectly into mine.
“I hope you’re having sweet dreams, princess,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. I should have had my fill of her. I should be content like this, but my cock is straining, rigid and begging to be sheathed inside her. I turn her to face me and lift her leg over my hip. Lining myself up to her opening, I slide inside until I’m fully inside her wet heat. Madison moans softly, her leg tightening over me as if she wants to keep me right where I am. Only then, am I able to close my eyes and fall asleep.