35. Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Tai
"A re you sure he said four o'clock?" Hunter grumbles at me, checking his watch.
Nodding, I stretch against the warehouse wall, groaning happily when my back cracks. "He's not that late. Chill."
Rylan messaged our group chat earlier, telling us to meet him at the warehouse. H and I arrived a few minutes before four, but now, ten minutes have passed and there's still no sight of Ry.
H looks more annoyed than usual, pacing the warehouse floor while occasionally rolling his eyes. Finally, we hear the gravel kick up outside and the roar of an engine before a car door slamming shut announces Ry's arrival.
When he power walks through the door, his gaze immediately falls onto Hunter, a scowl appearing on his face. It's not unnoticed by H, who stops pacing and straightens up.
"About time."
"You'll survive," Ry shoots back, crossing his arms.
The two of them glare at each other, and I sigh, throwing my hands up. "Alright. What crawled up your asses?"
"Ask him. " Rylan nods toward Hunter, who just scoffs.
"I knew this would be your reaction. I'm disappointed, Rylan."
Both of them ignore me. I need a spray bottle or something. If I squirted them in the face, surely that would bring them out of whatever testosterone fueled match-off this is. Perhaps H found out about the funeral on the weekend. I wasn't going to go but Soph insisted I tag along with her. Apparently, I owed it to Spencer. While I didn't necessarily agree, my mathematical panic kind of drove me to go. The last thing I need or want is to be stuck with that stupid equation. Which I'll never get done if these two don't hurry up.
Soph mentioned something about dragging Spencer to the Mall. Then after they are finished, we have to study. The deadline is fast approaching, and I can't afford to fail this class. Especially since Hunter thought it was a great idea to change classes last minute.
"You have no idea what the fuck you are doing," Rylan snaps at Hunter. "You took it too far."
"Took what too far?" I interject, annoyed. "Someone tell me what's going on."
H rolls his eyes, twirling his hand in Rylan's direction. "Go on then. I know you're chomping at the bit to throw me under the bus."
Ry's darkened glare finds my face. "Hunter kidnapped Bexley."
"What?!" I shout.
"Oh, spare me the theatrics, Rylan," Hunter groans. "It was not a kidnapping."
"Then what would you call it?"
"A lesson."
I rub a hand down the side of my face. "When?"
"Friday night," Rylan says sharply. "After the fights. Hunter handcuffed her to that shitty, bolted down desk in our changing room. Not even touching on the fact that she was half-naked and injured, but she nearly missed Saturday morning."
I suck in a breath, finally realizing the seriousness of this. No wonder Ry is pissed. He's gotten close to Spencer lately and despite what people think, he's a protective little shit.
"Her truck?" I direct at Ry, remembering our conversation on Saturday morning.
He nods in reply. "She would have missed it if you hadn't seen her truck in the parking lot."
Hunter huffs, listening to our exchange. "Nice to see you are both still against me."
"We're not against you," Ry shoots back angrily. "But Bexley isn't our enemy anymore."
"Of course she is," he argues. "You're just too blind to notice. Which is also why you didn't bother to tell me that you were fucking her."
My eyebrows dart into my hairline. We should have known that Hunter would figure it out. He's too clever and a master of reading between the lines. And that's exactly why he didn't say anything either—he wanted to prove a point.
"Is that what it's about?" Ry whispers heatedly. "Jealousy or something?"
Well, at least he's not denying it. They are close to butting heads and the last thing we need is a punching match.
"I'm not fucking jealous! You're just blind to what's happening in the real world!"
"Hunter…" I warn, shaking my head.
He turns to me, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not surprised you knew, T. But you are just as guilty here for not saying anything. You led me to believe that you were on my side."
"I'm on both of your sides," I groan. "But Ry is right. There are bigger things to worry about right now. Spencer isn't the threat."
"You idiots can't see what she's doing to us."
Rylan crosses the floor, making a beeline for Hunter. I hold my breath, nearly expecting him to tackle his childhood best friend but he stops short, shoving a finger into Hunter's chest. "Her fucking mother died, you moron. Your little stunt nearly made her miss the funeral on Saturday morning."
The three of us fall silent, Ry and I waiting for the information to process in Hunter's mind. I can practically see the cogs turning as he assesses what to do with it, placing it into some mental alignment with the rest of the recent events.
"That doesn't change things," he answers, softening his tone slightly. "Our priority is our position. She's weakening us." His eyes fall to me, narrowing slightly. "And she's getting to you as well."
"You need to stop listening to Marcus," Ry scoffs. "Fuck his reputation."
Hunter scowl. "Our reputation is all we have. Your father would agree."
Ouch. Playing the daddy card. This is turning messy. But surprisingly, Rylan doesn't react like I expect. He just laughs, amused at the idea that his father would be on Team Lannister.
"I don't give a shit anymore." Rylan pauses, deep in thought. "What has that ever really done for us?"
"Everything—" Hunter starts but Ry cuts him off.
"It's not, H. We're forced to follow in their footsteps. To our fathers, we're just extensions of them. Everything we do, everything we say, it's all for their benefit. We deserve better."
For once, Hunter doesn't know how to respond. He looks confused at the idea, like being a pawn in his father's career success is unfathomable.
I feel for them both. To be under scrutiny every day, it must be exhausting. Having an absent father is secretly a blessing in disguise. I don't care how much money he makes or how important he is in the legal world. None of that matters when we should be his priority. When I was younger, I looked up to him. Being rich and successful opened a lot of doors for our family. But it wasn't until I realized that Sophia was struggling without an active parent that the price wasn't worth paying.
All Dad cares about is his image and reputation. And Rylan is correct—Marcus Lannister and Max Astor are exactly the same. The only time they offer any praise or guidance is when it benefits them. If we do something that's deemed a failure, we are punished and belittled.
"I don't even know who you are anymore, Rylan," Hunter mutters. "Listen to yourself."
"H," I start, tone gentle. "He's right. We've spent too much energy looking at this the wrong way. We turned our attention to Cedar Heights when we should have been focusing on the events that got us here."
Hunter shakes his head. "It was needed. We had no choice but to mark our territory when they arrived."
"Maybe so," Rylan agrees. "But what does that get us? All I see is expectations and a life that's not my own."
I frown. I never realized just how much he was struggling. Hunter seems surprised too, letting out an exhausted sigh and rubbing his temple.
"I thought we suspected that someone from Cedar started the fire."
"I don't think so," I shrug. "There wasn't any benefit from them attending Willowbrook. All it did was cause chaos and mess with everyone."
Rylan nods. "Besides, Cedar are under the impression that someone from Willowbrook started it."
Hunter snorts. "Not our circus, not our monkeys."
"See. That's why we need to be careful. Someone out there is out to get all of us," I finish.
Pacing again, Hunter's face pulls up in concentration. "This still doesn't excuse either of you for befriending the enemy. After what she did to us…"
"Fuck's sake. Let the damn ass table go," Ry groans. "At least she didn't steal your credit card and make you wear booty shorts."
"Or post your number on Grindr," I say.
A smirk breaks through Hunter's concentration. "She really got to all of us in one go. I have to give some credit."
"We did worse to her," Ry sighs. "But honestly, she's not so bad when you get to know her."
I choke back a laugh as Hunter's head snaps to the side, glowering at Rylan. "I'm not being friends with her."
"You don't have to," he grumbles back. "But if we're going to find out who started this mess, maybe we need to work together."
"Absolutely not," Hunter replies. "We've got more than enough power to find out answers on our own. Plus, if Dad catches on…"
Rylan folds his arms, eyes glued to the pacing ball of energy. "He won't find out. But we need all the help we can get. Bexley knows Cedar Heights better than anyone. That insider information will come in handy."
I can see the moment that Hunter begrudgingly gives in, his eyes tightening and fists balling up. "Fine!" he snaps. "But I'm still not being friends with her. I don't care if her mother just died or that she has a mountain of daddy issues. If she gets in my way, I'll destroy her, regardless of your dick's needs."
Rylan smirks, shooting me a quick glance. "Trust me—if you were ever lucky enough to have her, you'd understand."
Shaking my head, I dig into my pocket for my car keys. "Well, this has been enlightening and all, but I have a study date with a certain Cedar Heights pain in the ass. We'll work out a plan. But for now, I better go before Spencer cuts off my head. Or Sophia. Those two together are a bit scary."
"About time," a voice snaps as I walk into the house.
My head turns to the side, finding Bexley sitting in my living room. Her crossed arms are tense as she glares at me, clearly annoyed that I'm late.
Damn. I honestly thought I'd beat them back. Don't girls take forever when shopping?
"Where's Soph?" I ask, ignoring the annoyed stare coming my way.
"Walking Calvin and Klein with Mary," she answers, standing up. "It's nearly dark and they were getting restless."
I snort. "And you didn't go with her?"
Bexley rolls her eyes. "I assumed you'd be back before now so we can sort out the project. It's due this week."
Cringing, I fight back the bile that threatens to rise. How the hell can mathematics cause such a visceral response to my body?
"I'm here now," I sigh. "Let's get this over with."
Waggling my finger at her, I motion to follow as I head for the stairs. Her soft footsteps echo behind me and when I enter my bedroom, I hold the door for her, closing it behind us.
Bexley grabs the spare chair, pulling it to the desk. She sits down and digs into her bag, pulling out a notebook and the project paperwork.
I sit down across from her, reaching for a pen before I can chicken out.
My eyes stay trained to her face, watching her expressions as she focuses on setting up. It's quite remarkable how different she is from Saturday. I expected her to be a sappy mess—especially after hearing that Hunter fucked around with her after the fights. But to her credit, no one would be able to tell. It's as if she's locked everything away, straight back into that leader mode she portrays constantly.
Now I get it. Rylan being exhausted and fed up with everything, I can only imagine what goes on in that brain of hers. We underestimated her, but perhaps Rylan is right—we need her.
"I'm sorry," I quickly say before I can change my mind. "For your loss."
Bexley pauses, lifting her head slightly to meet my gaze. "Thank you." She stills, eyebrows furrowing. "And thanks for being there on Saturday with Soph."
I nod, grabbing the project paper. "Alright. The sooner we can get this finished, the better. Let's begin."