CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Victoria
After our discussion about the new ground rules for my safety, the guys and I fell into a comfortable routine. Though they hadn't said it, I was sure my not wanting to leave in the wake of the destruction of my office at the center had caused them to relax a little. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't hiding in fear. I was only waiting for the repairs to be made. Mags was the only one who knew enough to call me on the lies I was telling myself.
She had given me her number at some point while I was drowning my feelings in booze, and I'd spent the last several days since visiting the Spotted Cobra texting her. I'd told her everything during my drunken rambling, including the texts from my stalker and the sense of betrayal I'd felt when Tiffany had added her voice to the arguments about what I should be allowed to do. The red-headed bartender had only offered words of support, so stark in contrast to how everyone else treated me that I couldn't help wanting to befriend her even after the alcohol wore off.
You should tell them about the texts. I know they're pigheaded ‘Az-holes,’ as you call ‘em, but they can help. You shouldn't let some sicko scare you away from doing the work you love. Her latest response read.
I worried my bottom lip with my teeth as I tapped out a response.
They just stopped trying to control everything I do. If I tell them about this, they will lock me up somewhere and throw away the key.
I can't say I blame you for feeling that way after what you told me the other night. You should tell somebody close to you, even if it ain't them. I know you're still upset with your friend Tiffany, but you should consider talking to her.
As I considered Mags' last text, I pursed my lips together in a thin line. I was angry with Tiff, but I did miss her. She was my best friend. Even with her misguided actions at the dinner party, part of me knew she was only trying to look out for me. If I told her about the creepy texts and asked her to stay quiet, I was confident she would. Before I could remind myself of all the reasons I should let Tiffany sit with what she did, I navigated away from my texts with Mags and tapped call on Tiff's number.
"Tory? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I've been calling and texting you since the other night. I was such a bitch." Tiff rattled off the second she answered the phone. "Can you ever forgive me?"
I puffed out a breath before responding. "You fucked up big, Tiff."
"I know. I'll do anything it takes to make up for it. I just kind of lost it when Noah said something happened at the center. It's not an excuse for what I did, I'm just scared for you, Tor."
"Honestly, I'm scared for me, too. Things are worse than just what happened at the center." I confessed.
"What did those pieces of shit do?" Tiffany demanded. "You know what? I don't even need to know. Whatever it is, I'll cut their balls off for it."
I barked out a laugh. "I appreciate the sentiment, but it's not them."
"What's going on, Tory. Talk to me." Tiffany's voice grew serious.
"I've been getting some creepy ass texts the last few weeks. They're from the same person who destroyed my office at the center."
"Fuck, Tory." She breathed heavily into the receiver. "Tell me everything."
I spent the next twenty or so minutes telling Tiffany about every single message I'd received from my stalker. I told her how I'd thought it was one of the guys screwing with me at first, but the more I got, the less I could see them being from them. Until the macabre gift of a heart with Tiff's image attached by a letter opener was left in my office, sealing my certainty that it was not one of the five men living in the manor with me.
"Christ, Tory. That's really fucked up. You have to tell the guys what's going on."
"No!" I shouted into my phone. "They just decided to back off and stop treating me like a child. If I tell them, it will be worse than before. They'll never let me leave the manor."
"But do you even want to leave with some sicko stalking you?" Tiffany asked. "And before you answer that, just know, I've talked to Noah. He's been to the center looking for you and I already know you haven't been going."
My shoulders slumped forward in defeat. "I want to, at some point. But even if I choose not to leave, I need to know it's my choice and not something that's been forced on me."
"If you let this creep sending you fucked up messaged scare you into it, you're still being forced, babe." She shot back. "I won't say a word about it to anyone if you don't want me to, but you can't let some fuckwad steal your power like this. What if I come over tonight and we have a sleepover like we used to do? We can figure out a plan to take back your power from that fucking creep without having to bring the guys into it?"
"That actually sounds really nice, Tiff." I smiled into the phone.
"Great. It's settled then. I have some stuff to take care of today, but I'll be over, say, around seven? I'll bring all our favorite snacks. We'll order pizza, and we can raid the liquor cabinet because you know the guys stocked that up the minute they moved into the manor. We'll drink, we'll eat, and we will plan how to turn you back into the badass bitch I know you are!"
Shortly after seven, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Rolling off my bed and laying the book I'd been reading on my nightstand, I strolled over and opened it to find Rich. He had several bags filled with junk food hanging from his arm and a case of soda in his hand. Tiffany stood just behind him, smirking. I stepped back, holding the door open for them to enter, my mouth hanging open as Rich set everything down.
"You girls have fun, yeah?" He said before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.
"Whatever you did to that man, I'm loving it." Tiffany laughed the moment he was gone. "I really thought the Warden was going to put up a fight, but he hopped to when I told him to get our goodies out of the car."
"Things have been… different since I blew up at everyone during the dinner party." I shrugged.
"You bitch! Tell me everything!" Tiffany squealed before plopping down onto my bed.
"I sort of ran off and ended up at this little hole in the wall in Southside." I shrugged, sitting down next to her. "I don't remember much because I was knocking back vodka crans like my life depended on it, but Mags took good care of me."
Tiffany arched an eyebrow at me, and I could have sworn there was a flash of recognition when I mentioned Mags. It was gone too fast for me to be certain, though.
"Well, continue."
"I guess the guys found me there and brought me home. All I know is I woke up with the worst hangover of my life and when I went to the kitchen for coffee, we had a chat."
"We?"
"Yeah, all six of us." I replied. "But the gist is that now they don't make rules about where I can and can't go so long as I agree to listen if they tell me it's too dangerous and take one of them with me when it's not."
"Girl." Tiff said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "You must have a golden pussy the way you have those boys wrapped around your finger."
"Shut up," I laughed, playfully slapping her shoulder. "I've only slept with two of them, so this new arrangement has nothing to do with sex."
My best friend's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Bitch, I can't believe you've been holding out on me. How did I not know you've boned not one, but two of those deliciously bad boys? I need to know everything and don't you dare skimp on the details!"
Before I knew it, we were tearing into our snacks and swapping stories like nothing had ever happened. It had only been a few days since the dinner party, but I'd missed my friend. Tiffany had always been my rock, and I was thrilled enough to have her back that I told her all about my hookups with Leighton and Craig.
"Rope?" She grinned, tapping away furiously on her phone. "Babe, that means that man is into some kinky shit. Next time you hook up, I bet he ties you up like this." She turned her screen toward me and showed me a picture of a slim blond suspended by elegant knot-work.
"Not a chance," I laughed. "I'm not some petite little thing. He would need, like, towing rope or something to do that with me."
Tiffany narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips. The sound of my door opening behind me tore my attention away from her before she could speak. Leighton leaned against my door frame, a feral grin on his face.
"Can I join the party?" He asked.
"N–"
"Yes." Tiffany cut me off.
My head whipped back toward her, and I hissed. "What are you doing? This is supposed to be girls' night. No psycho bodyguards allowed!"
"Trust me." She winked, patting the bed beside her.
Leighton shut my door and sauntered over, making himself comfortable on my bed. "So, what are we up to, ladies?"
"Truth or dare." Tiff cackled.
"Oooh, fun. I'll go first. I want a dare!"
"I can't believe either of you right now." I groaned.
"I have the perfect dare," Tiff squealed, hopping off my bed and racing into my en suite bathroom. She returned moments later with my bright green mud mask container in hand. "Let me put this on you."
"That's it? That's your dare?" Leighton cackled. "Not much of a dare, but go for it!"
Tiff clapped her hands excitedly before settling back onto the bed beside him. My mouth fell open in shock when he tilted his head back, eyes closed, and waited for her to apply the mask. My jaw was still practically on the floor when he cracked open one eye and looked at me.
"Shut your mouth before you start catching flies, ma petit démone ." He smiled, chucking a finger under my chin.
My mouth snapped shut, and I watched as Tiffany plastered the mask on Leighton's face. He was surprisingly compliant while she smeared the green-tinted product across his face. When she was finished, he shifted to look at me and grinned.
"My turn!" He cheered. "Ok, Malibu Barbie, truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What kind of shit are you really into when you're not with la petit démone ?"
Tiff raised one brow at him. "What do you mean? I usually just shop and party. Sometimes I go on dates if someone catches my interest."
"I'm not buying it." Leighton replied. "We vibe way too well for you to be some vapid rich girl. Only gangsters and petty criminals vibe with me this well."
Tiffany's lips pinched into a frown as she gave Leighton a scathing look. "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you my truth. Now it's my turn again."
"If you say so, Your Bitchiness." Leighton huffed.
A wicked grin spread along Tiffany's lips. "Leighton, truth or dare."
"Hey, you just did me. You've gotta do Victoria now, or it's not fair!"
"It's my turn and I choose you, so pick."
"Fine." He groaned. "Your dare was pretty lame, so truth."
"How do you feel about Tory? You can't seem to stay away from her when you're here, so what's the deal?"
Leighton frowned, his brows furrowing before he looked at me with sincerity plainly written on his face. "I feel the same way about you that I feel about a high-end steak." He said with a firm nod of finality.
"That's because this girl right here is a high-end steak." Tiffany laughed, patting and jiggling my thigh.
I gave them both an incredulous look. "Ya'll are weird."
"Obviously, but it's my turn. So ma petit démone . Truth or dare?"
"Dare," I replied, scrunching my nose. I was sure whatever would come out of his mouth would be something I didn't want to do.
"Oh! Come with me then!" Leighton clapped, hopping from the bed and heading toward the door.
Tiffany and I followed him curiously through the manor to the garage. He motioned for us to wait while he slipped back outside. I couldn't help but wonder what he was up to; this didn't seem like any sort of dare for me.
"What is that little psycho up to?" Tiffany mused just as he reentered the garage with a bucket of paint.
"No idea," I shrugged.
Undeterred, he motioned for us to follow him and made his way to Az's Porsche. The same car I'd stolen the night of the chaos dinner. Setting the paint can down on the hood, he produced two paint brushes from his back pocket.
"What is this? You're not going to do something that causes me more trouble with Az, are you?"
"Never. I'll take all the blame."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at him. He just shrugged and dipped his brush into the open paint can. Seconds later, I realized what he was up to as the letters AZ and a dash were boldly painted on the hood of Az's car. Snickering, I grabbed the second paint brush that had been discarded and helped Leighton finish the 'hole.' If I wasn't going to be blamed for it, I might as well enjoy it.
Just as we finished painting the insult Tiffany and I had coined for Az, Leighton's phone rang. He pulled it free of his pants pocket and frowned at the screen.
"Well, ladies, this has been fun, but it looks like I have work to do." He scowled. "Enjoy the rest of your girls' night."
He started toward his motorcycle, and I couldn't help but call out to him.
"Leighton!" he paused, turning to look at me. "You still have green mud on your face."
His hand reached up to touch his face before he pulled it away, his fingers coated in the green mask.
"I think I'll keep it on." He cackled. "But thanks for the reminder. You girls get back inside before you get yourselves into trouble."
Tiffany and I exchanged glances and fell into a fit of giggles as he strode from the garage. When we regained control, she grabbed his abandoned paintbrush and splattered some more paint on the hood of Az's Porsche.
"For good measure," she winked before dropping the brush and linking her arm with mine.
We returned to my rooms, both of us grinning like the cat that ate the canary.
"It's still your turn for truth or dare," Tiff said once the door shut behind us.
I flopped down on my bed, sprawling out across the king-sized mattress. "I don't think anything can top what Leighton did to Az's car. How about we put something on Netflix instead?"
"Whatever you want, babe." She smiled, flopping down beside me. "But none of those sappy romances you always make me watch. I want to laugh, not wreck my mascara bawling my eyes out."
The rest of the night was spent watching movies, eating junk, and gossiping about our social circles. Tiffany wisely avoided the topic of the guys. It was exactly what I needed after feeling trapped for so long, and when I finally dozed off in the wee hours of the morning, I felt lighter than I had since the Gala fire.