20 RHEA
T he shrill ring of my phone pierces through my skull like an ice pick. I fumble for it, knocking over an unfamiliar lamp in the process. Right. Guest room. Bosses house. Almost murdered.
Fun times.
"Hello?" My voice sounds like I've been gargling gravel.
"Rhea? Oh thank god." Brianne's voice trembles. "Someone broke into our apartment."
I bolt upright, sleep forgotten. "What? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I just got home from Mark's, but..." She takes a shaky breath. "Everything's trashed. There's spray paint everywhere. Our stuff is..." A sob breaks through. "They destroyed your textbooks."
"My textbooks?" My stomach drops. Those books cost more than my car payment. "What does the spray paint say?"
"It's just... symbols? And 'stay out' over and over. Rhea, what's going on?"
"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." I launch myself out of bed, tangling in the oversized shirt.
"Don't call the police." The words tumble out before I can stop them.
"What do you mean don't call the—Rhea, our apartment is destroyed!"
"I know, I know." I pace the unfamiliar guest room, my bare feet silent against the plush carpet. "Just... trust me on this. Please."
"Trust you? Someone broke in and vandalized our home!"
Brianne's voice rises an octave. "They destroyed everything. Your study notes. Everything."
My stomach churns. Months of work, gone. "I'll replace them."
"With what money? And that's not even the point! What's going on? Why aren't you home? Where are you really?"
"I can't—" I press my forehead against the cool window glass. "I'll explain everything soon. I promise."
"You're scaring me."
"I know. I'm sorry. Just... hang tight, I'm on my way. "
A long pause follows. "Fine. But if you're in trouble?—"
"I'll figure it out. Love you."
I end the call and slam my fist against the wall. "Fuck! God fucking dammit!"
The door flies open. Corey stands there, shirtless, wearing only low-slung sweatpants. The tattoos across his chest and arms shift as he tenses, ready for a fight.
"What's wrong?" His dark eyes scan the room for threats.
Holy... My thoughts scatter like startled birds as I take in Corey's bare chest. The black ink of his tattoos traces paths I want to follow with my fingers. With my tongue. Stop it, Rhea. Focus.
"My apartment was broken into." The words tumble out.
"Brianne just called. They trashed everything, left threatening messages. Has to be connected to whoever ran me off the road."
His jaw tightens. "Fuck. Come on."
"Shouldn't you grab a shirt first?"
He turns toward the hallway, paying me no attention.
"Or not. I won't mind the view," I mutter under my breath, heat creeping up my neck.
We hurry down the hallway, my borrowed sweatpants nearly falling down. The house creaks under our feet as we approach what must be Tobias's room. The massive shadow of a weight bench looms in the darkness beside his door.
"Tobias," Corey calls out, rapping his knuckles against the wood.
"We've got trouble."
Corey lets out an exasperated sigh. "He sleeps like the fucking dead."
Without warning, he pushes the door open. "Tobias!"
A rush of cool air hits me as we enter. Jesus christ the Toronto native does keep it fucking freezing in here. The room smells of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine. My eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness yet, but I can make out Tobias's massive form on the king-sized bed.
"What—" Tobias bolts upright, the sheet sliding down his naked body like water.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Early morning light streams through the window, painting gold stripes across acres of tattooed skin.
His long dark hair falls in messy waves past his shoulders, and his thick, muscled thighs...
I snap my eyes up, but not before getting an eyeful of his very impressive morning glory standing at full attention.
"What's wrong?" Tobias's voice is rough with sleep, but his eyes are alert, darting between us. He seems completely unbothered by his nakedness. "Someone dead?"
I press my lips together, fighting the urge to look down again.
Focus on his face, Rhea. His gorgeous, bearded face. Not helping.
"Someone broke into Rhea's apartment," Corey says. "Trashed the place."
"Shit." Tobias runs a hand through his tangled hair. "Give me two minutes."
I turn around quickly, face burning. "I'll... wait in the hall."
"Good idea," Corey says, following me out. Is that amusement in his voice?
The door clicks shut behind us. I lean against the wall, trying to slow my racing heart.
"So," Corey drawls. "That was... enlightening."
"Shut up." I cross my arms over my chest. "Not a word."
We hurry down the stairs, Corey grabbing his keys from a hook by the door.
The sound of thundering footsteps draws our attention to the side door. Julian bursts in, his shirt halfway on, frantically zipping up his pants.
"What the fuck's going on?" He stumbles, catching himself on the doorframe. "Where are ya'll going."
"Someone trashed Rhea's place," Tobias says, pulling his hair into a messy bun.
"Shit." Julian shakes his head. "I'm coming too."
I look between the three of them – Corey still shirtless, Tobias in just gym shorts, and Julian half-dressed. "Jesus Christ, do none of you own pajamas?"
A deep chuckle rumbles from Tobias as he opens the truck door.
"Baby, we're big boys. We're long past pajamas." He winks, helping me into the backseat. "Just takes longer to take off."
Heat floods my cheeks as Julian slides in next to me, his thigh pressing against mine in the cramped space. "That's... not the point I was making."
"Sure it wasn't," Julian says, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Can we focus?" I snap, though there's no real heat behind it. "My apartment was just vandalized."
"Right." Corey starts the engine, his muscles flexing as he grips the steering wheel. "Let's go see what kind of message they were trying to send."
The truck roars to life, and we peel out of the driveway. I grip the seat as we take the first turn too fast, my shoulder bumping against Julian's bare chest.
This is going to be a long ride.