Chapter 18 Kai
Kai
I’m deep in the comments section of a video about a bar fight in lower Riverside. Locals ripping into each other because someone called someone else’s mother a whore.
Idiots.
I swipe.
YOU’RE ALL CAUGHT UP
The little checkmark mocks me. I’ve doomscrolled to the bottom of the pit…and that’s pathetic as fuck.
I should sleep. My eyes feel like they’re full of sand, and my head is throbbing with the kind of headache that usually signals a hangover, even though I haven’t touched a drop tonight.
I tug out my earbuds and lock my phone screen, plunging the Airbnb into darkness.
Silence rushes in, heavy and suffocating.
Beside me, Haven shifts. A soft puff of air escapes her lips, and she burrows deeper into the pillow. She’s been out cold since around ten. After two days of midterms and an afternoon spent aggressively sewing patches onto a thrift store jacket, she crashed the second her head hit the mattress.
My eyes flick up.
Our costumes are draped over the chair in the corner, a sequin catching the faint glow falling in through the kitchen’s lace curtains.
Her blue dress and white apron.
My oversized jacket and top hat.
I’m not surprised Haven chose a Wonderland theme for Friday night’s costumes. It’s the only book I’ve ever seen her read for fun.
I thought I’d have to persuade her to go to the party, but she seems just as keen as me to shake off midterms—and all the other shit choking us right now.
It’s probably not the wisest choice for me. Barnes was pretty clear when he’d told me to stay away from alcohol, drugs, and trouble. A party is kind of out of the question…but if I limit myself to a max of three drinks and only one joint, I’ll be fine.
I have to be fine if I’m going to watch out for Rooke and keep an eye on Haven. I can’t exactly let loose like I did last Friday at The Hollow Point.
Looks like I’m in my snooze fest era. Thanks for nothing, Rooke.
I unlock the phone again. Tap the VibeFeed icon without putting my earbuds back in. My thumb blurs as I swipe past post after post after post. I don’t put my earbuds back, hoping that the lack of sound will pull me out of this doomscroll sooner.
A girl shuffle dancing in a bikini and bright white sneakers.
Swipe.
A guy pranking his roommate.
Swipe.
A fitness influencer comparing the total calories for different plates of food.
Swipe.
A chime and rattling vibration on the nightstand cuts through the room like a jackhammer. Haven’s phone is on charge next to a glass of water and an empty beer bottle. I roll onto my side and snatch her phone off charge. Why the hell didn’t she put it on silent?
I stare at the lit-up screen.
INCOMING CALL
bastian
She saved his number like some late-night hookup—no last name, no capital letter.
The fuck is he doing, calling her at two in the morning? Then again…isn’t that exactly when he calls people to mess with their heads?
I glare at his name, my thumb hovering over the decline button.
I want to crush the phone. Fuck that. I want to drive to his house, kick down his expensive oak door, and beat his face in until he stops smiling.
But I don’t.
Because I could go straight to jail.
The phone stops buzzing.
I let out a jagged breath, easing my grip on the phone.
Thank fuck. Probably passed out. Or he’s snorting another line of coke—
Ping.
Haven’s screen lights up with a VibeFeed notification.
She just got a DM…and, big surprise, Rooke’s been messaging her with the same throwaway account he used on me.
@inherentvice
Pick up.
My jaw aches from how hard I’m clenching my teeth.
No ‘please,’ just a straight up demand.
The phone vibrates with another call. I look at Haven. She’s still curled up, hair splayed across her face. If I wake her, she’ll apologize for missing his first call. She’ll submit to him.
Fuck that.
I swipe to answer and press the phone to my ear.
“She’s sleeping.”
Silence.
Then the sound of ice clinking against glass. Because obviously he’s drinking top-shelf bourbon at two in the morning.
“Screening her calls now?” He’s not surprised I answered, just amused.
Jesus, he’s so fucking condescending.
“It’s two in the fucking morning,” I grate. “Don’t you have papers to grade, or puppies to kick?”
His low chuckle vibrates against my ear. “If I’d wanted to speak to you, boy, I’d have called your number. Now put her on the phone.”
“She’s sleeping. Leave her the fuck alone.”
“That’s not how this works, Kai. I call, she answers. That was the agreement.”
“Fuck your agreement.”
“Careful,” Rooke purrs. His amusement evaporates, replaced by cold steel. “I can put you back in that cell faster than you can blink. And next time, you won’t even make bail.”
My knuckles whiten as my grip tightens around the phone case. “What do you want?”
Rooke hums in my ears like he’s considering ordering me to fetch Haven again. But I guess he enjoys seeing how far he can push me.
“I want you at my house. Tomorrow night. Both of you.”
I scoff. “Fuck, no.”
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
“You’re right, it isn’t. We have plans.”
“Plans,” he repeats dryly.
“We’re going to a party.” Why the fuck I sound so defensive explaining myself…Jesus, I don’t know.
“A party?” He lets out a dark chuckle. “Seems like you’re invested in going back to jail.”
“We made costumes,” I say, forcing the tremor from my voice. “We’re going to dress up, and we’re going to dance, and we’re not coming to see you, you fucking asshole.”
I wait for the explosion.
“What are you going as?” Rooke sounds…intrigued. And I like it even less than when he was being condescending.
“None of your fucking business.”
“Play nice, boy.” I can hear him smiling through the fucking phone.
“Alice,” I grit out. “And the Mad Hatter.”
“Fitting,” Rooke murmurs. “A girl lost in a world she doesn’t understand, and the madman leading her astray.”
I scoff. “If anyone’s ‘leading her astray,’ it’s fucking you.”
“You’re the one keeping her from her potential. And from me.”
“We’re not coming. We need a night off. From you. From all of this shit.”
“You’re growing a spine, Kai,” Bastian says softly. “It’s adorable. Stupid, but adorable.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Do that, and the police will be at your door in ten minutes.”
My breath catches in my throat, and it takes effort to turn it into a scoff.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Fuck around and find out, boy.”
I don’t speak…because I have no fucking idea what to say.
“Do you really think I don’t have another ace or two up my sleeve?” He sounds so fucking pleased with himself, I want to puke. “All it’ll take is one anonymous call to the station, and Deputy Thatcher himself will be locking those cuffs around your wrists.”
“You’re delusional. I never touched Melissa, and you know it. Whatever you have, it’ll never hold up in court.”
Rooke chuckles. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
I bite my knuckle to muffle the annoyed sound fighting its way out of my throat.
“Fine, boy. You want to go to your little costume party? Then go. But you two will meet me at midnight, or it’ll be your last night as a free man.”
“Fuck you! We’re not—“
An angry growl rumbles through the phone. I swear I’ve never heard him make a sound like that before…but I guess my body recognizes it on some caveman level, because goosebumps break out on my arms like a fucking rash and my jaw clamps shut.
“Listen carefully, Kai. As entertaining as your recent streak of defiance has been, don’t for a second think it’s the new status quo. I am, and always will be, the one in control.”
He pauses, the clink of ice reaching me through the phone.
“I’ll send a location pin tomorrow night,” Rooke says, calm and measured again. “You’ll have ten minutes to meet me there. Don’t test me, boy.”
I pull the phone away, staring at the dark screen as my chest heaves.
I’m going to be sick.
No. I’m fine. I’m fucking fine.
I just need to breathe and figure out how the hell I’m going to survive whatever Rooke has planned without dragging Haven down with me.
I’m about to put Haven’s phone back on charge when a new DM comes through.
@inherentvice
We’re all mad here…