7. Chapter 6
RYAN
Landon leaned back in his car seat.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” He sighed, peering out the window. “It’s a house in the middle of nowhere… kinda creepy.”
“Yes, it’s his,” I said, already unbuckling. Landon reached over, grabbing my seatbelt before I could get out, giving me this weird look.
He glanced at his phone, letting out a deep exhale.
“Listen, Ryan. I don’t care if you wanna get dicked down by some dude you met online, but you know I can’t just leave you here, right?”
I scoffed, shaking him off.
A dull thump came from somewhere, but I ignored it.
“Landon, I just needed a ride, not a babysitter. Thanks.”
“Alright, whose house is this at least?”
I kept quiet, already reaching for the car door.
He sighed, then, click , locked me in.
“What the fuck, Landon?”
“What the fuck me? What the fuck you?” he shot back. “Dude, you called me, and I thought maybe you were gonna let me fuck or something, and hey—” He put his hands up, “—okay, you used me for a ride, I respect it. But I’m gonna need a name.”
Another thump.
“What the fuck do you have back there?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He shrugged. “Just my football equipment…”
He gave me another odd look, “Listen, man, I don’t care. Really. But I don’t wanna be the last person who sees you if you go missing, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna get kidnapped.”
“Might be true. But how would I know that?”
Another thump.
“You got someone tied up back there or something?” I said, watching him.
He rolled his eyes again. The house was far enough from the road that we weren’t exactly suspicious sitting here.
Another thump.
My stomach dropped. What if he actually had a body back there? No wonder he didn’t
want me to go missing, then the cops would have a reason to search his shit.
I gave him a look.
“It’s my football gear,” he repeated.
I kept staring.
“Fine,” he groaned.
He unbuckled, unlocked the doors, and got out. I followed.
When he popped the trunk, I stepped closer, then froze.
Feet. A body.
“Oh my god.”
I looked at Landon, wide-eyed. “You psycho! No wonder you don’t want the cops involved. Sicko.”
He frowned, walking closer. I backed away as he opened the trunk wider.
Big brown eyes stared back at us. A student: young, maybe eighteen, with messy black hair.
He pulled off his headphones slowly, looking from left to right, as if taking us in.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Did I really care? He was dressed in clothes that were way too expensive for a kid his age.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, smiling like this was normal.
“Good? What the hell are you doing in my trunk?” Landon snapped.
I glared at him.
“Seriously? I didn’t kidnap him!”
The guy laughed. “ Relax , hot stuff. I’m hiding from my bodyguard. He’s probably freaking out right now, but that’s what he gets for being an asshole.”
Slurring. Oh yeah, drunk.
Super fucking drunk.
Landon glared at him, his phone blowing up with calls.
“Fuck. I can’t deal with this. What’s your bodyguard’s number?”
“Fuck that. I’m not giving it to you.”
“What??”
I wanted no part of this. Slowly, I stepped back, the darkness swallowing me while Landon and the drunk pretty boy argued.
Not my problem. At all.
My problem was in the house at the top of the hill.
It was dark enough for me to slip away without being noticed. I could still hear Landon’s voice fading behind me as I made my way up.
***
The house was… huge. How could he afford this? Is that why he’s with his wife, because she’s loaded?
A cheater and a gold digger ?
Against the dark forest, the place glowed, warm light spilling from the windows.
It was slightly uphill. I kept close to the road, but far enough not to be seen.
As I got closer, I saw it was cabin-like, with hardwood siding, a stone fireplace, and a big front porch lined with windows.
No visible cameras. Not that I was about to walk up to the front door like an idiot.
I circled to the back. There was a five-foot fence, easy to hop.
Inside the yard, there was a gorgeous pool and a jacuzzi.
Nice.
I could picture us here, me naked in the jacuzzi, waiting for my sexy husband to come out with a towel, warm me up with those big hands, then bend me over and fuck me til I was begging him. I bit my lip at the thought.
My body reminisced about our steamy night together, where he nearly did screw me.
If only his wife hadn’t called the admin and interrupted us.
Cockblocking bitch.
The pool lights glowed faintly; everything else was swallowed in pitch black. It was chilly, so I tightened my coat.
There was a patio area with tables, an umbrella, and a grill, cozy, inviting.
That’s when I heard voices.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
His voice, irritated, but holding back.
They were in the kitchen.
I saw her turn her head.
Could she see me?
Through the small kitchen window, she was moving, heading toward the sliding door, but still looking back at him.
Damnit, she was attractive. Blonde like me, but big perky tits, not like me.
I dropped to my hands and knees, heart pounding.
Fuck. I think she’s going to open it.
Fuck, I can’t be caught now, especially with the wife right there!
I slide into the pool as stealthily as I could.
It’s heated, but the initial plunge still felt like ice in my veins. I tried to get in with as little noise as possible.
“Did you hear that?” Her voice got clearer as she headed outside.
I’m submerged, praying they’re not about to turn on the grill and have a romantic picnic.
I can’t hold my breath long.
“It’s nothing, probably just the wind.”
I hear her huff, but her footsteps get closer.
“I just missed you. Get over here.”
Silence for a beat, then—ugh—the disgusting sound of kissing reaches my ears, even underwater.
Please go back inside.
Not only were my lungs begging for oxygen, but my brain was melting from having to hear them make out.
The only upside was the lack of verbal acknowledgment from his end. He’s not groaning or growling, so the little makeout session couldn’t be that good, or good at all.
I did need air, though, holy shit.
I can’t hold it anymore.
I take a small peek, luckily, her back was to me, and he’s hugging her. He’s wearing black and red Christmas PJs and nothing else.
I don’t mind the view, not at all. I could make out the curve of his abdomen from here.
Holy—
Then my stupid phone decided to make noise.
A call.
Fuck.
I dived under and hit the big red button instantly. Fuck waterproof phones.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Let me see. Stay back.”
The pool is a foot deep before the waterline shows, so while I could breathe here, I could also hear his footsteps coming closer.
Shit, I’m going to have to go back under.
Won’t he see me?
It’s dim. Maybe not.
I took a deep breath and went back under.
Then I felt it, my hair, yanked hard.
I looked up, and Mr. Thorne stared down at me with nothing short of anger. Jaw tight, molars grinding.
“What is it?” she asked, bewildered. “Is it that stray cat again? Poor baby.”
His eyes are locked on me, soaked and caught, pure murder in his stare.
“No. Just a tree branch.” He let go, but leaned down and whispers—
“Don’t move.”
Then he stood.
“It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”
“But I wanted to swim.”
“Not today. How about I set you up a hot bath?”
“Mmm, will you be joining?” she teased.
Their footsteps faded.
He’s kidding himself if he thinks I’m waiting here. Oh, hell no.
If I stayed, he would have proof. Right now, all he has is a dim, maybe-I-saw-him witness.
I heard the sliding door shut. When I peeked over the pool edge, I caught his eyes briefly through the kitchen window, cold and sharp.
I jumped out, freezing instantly. The air bit at my skin. I shoved my phone back into my pocket.
Five missed calls from Landon. Sicko.
I needed to get the hell out. I just wanted to see his wife, maybe peek at his life, not get caught.
I crawled toward the fence, the one I think I came from. Once I’m far enough away, I’ll call Landon to pick me up.
Who cares if Mr. Thorne saw me? Who was he going to tell? The board and risk me blabbing?
Yes. Perfect plan.
“Ryan Larson. Don’t you dare hop that fence.”
His voice cut through the cold like a blade, low, rough.
It zapped a cold thrill through me.
I turned. He stood in a damp white tee and plaid PJ pants, chest rising hard, hair mussed from sleep. Furious.
Nose flared. Eyes black. He shut the side door with a quiet click , each step deliberate as he came closer.
“Come here.”
A shiver ran up my spine, half the night air, half the way his gaze pinned me like prey.
I edged toward the fence.
“Ryan.” His tone softened, but in that way that made it worse. “If you come to me right now, I won’t be mad.”
But his jaw was tight, a muscle ticking. His fist curled like he was holding something back.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, voice thin.
“Ryan.” The softness dropped. His voice was flat, dangerous.
“If you hop that fence, I’m done playing nice. I’ve let the games slide. The looks. The mouth. But if you make me chase you—”
He stepped closer, close enough I could see the water clinging to his shirt, outlining every ridge of muscle.
“Then I’ll deal with you the way your father should have,” he said, low and deliberate, “and you won’t like it.”
My chest tightened. I pushed up onto the fence, heartbeat drumming in my ears.
“Ryan—”
I went over.
Not a road. Forest.
“Fuck,” I breathed. Too late.
A curse ripped out behind me, and then his footsteps, heavier, faster, pounded against the ground.
Branches tore at my coat as I ran, lungs burning. He was close enough I could feel him, the weight of him at my back, the heat of his breath catching the cold air.
Too close.
Every step I took, I felt him get closer.
And in the sickest way, I knew, if he caught me, I wouldn’t mind the punishment.