Chapter 13 #2
I was just about finished with the house when I bit down on my thumb, passing by the boys’ room once more.
I had swept and mopped inside, but there was still that bundle of papers slipping out from under Rook’s bed.
I would be doing him a favor if I tidied it up and stacked it so that the edges didn’t stick out.
That felt right. I quickly made my way back to his bed and got to my knees where I gently pulled a few pages free. My name caught my eye again, and my gaze trailed over the text on the page.
Just tell Connor you don’t want her to go.
In pencil and different handwriting was a response.
No, Connor always invites her, and if we say anything, then he’ll bail to hang out with her.
This is a dumb way to communicate, by the way. I feel like I’m in third grade, passing notes.
Connor will be suspicious if he sees us texting. This is better because he thinks we’re doing the fantasy football draft.
That had to be Rook’s comment…which meant the person he was communicating with had to be Ford.
I remembered the afternoon at Connor’s house when both Rook and Ford kept scribbling on a paper back and forth, saying they were filling in their fantasy draft picks.
Connor never thought anything about it, neither had I.
A burning began behind my chest as I processed the memory and now laid this one over the top of it, trying to compare the two.
They were gossiping about me, right in front of me, and I never knew.
Why do you hate Royce so much?
My heart rammed against my chest as I moved down the page, reading Ford’s response.
She’s spoiled and acts like the whole world revolves around her.
Rook replied with: Connor acts more spoiled than she does, but yeah, I see that whole world revolving around her thing. That and she’s always with Connor. We never get a break from her.
Fuck you, Rook. I glared at his text and my eyes burned as I continued reading what Ford wrote back.
That’s why we both have to approach him about her. He’ll accept it if it’s from both of us.
At the end of their exchange, I dropped the letter and swiped at an angry stray tear that had made its way down my cheek. I knew Ford and I weren’t the best of friends growing up, and we argued more often than not, but I didn’t assume he hated me.
I never thought his ire toward me was real. Subconsciously and stupidly, I had thought he harbored secret feelings for me, but I was wrong.
Dead fucking wrong.
Out of curiosity, I snagged another page that was tucked nearly exactly where the last one was. This was similar in how they chatted back and forth, but it was bit more one-sided.
I don’t want to go if she’s going to be there.
Dude, you’re being lame as hell. It’s a birthday party…I’m turning sixteen. Royce has been invited to every party since we were in diapers. I can’t just say I don’t want the Quinn family to come.
This was like a car wreck I couldn’t seem to look away from. I knew reading any further would hurt my feelings, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop.
Not the entire family, just tell your dad that you don’t want Royce to come. Let’s not have any girls, that way my dumb sister doesn’t get to go either.
I don’t mind Ellie being at my party.
Ford wrote back, but it was clipped and short.
Whatever, I just won’t go if she’s there.
I remembered that birthday of Rook’s. There was tension when I arrived, and while I had smiled brightly at Rook, I felt Ford’s angry gaze land on me. Shortly after, he left, and Rook told everyone he wasn’t feeling well.
It was me. I was the reason Ford would leave events, parties, and any sort of gathering that brought all of our families together.
The delusion that I had regarding my friendship with Ford was more than embarrassing, it was devastating.
How had I gone so long not realizing that he hated me this much?
The humiliation spread through me, forcing angry tears to slip down my face.
I swiped to no avail as new ones fell.
Realizing that someone disliked me wasn’t the end of the world, I could handle rejection. I didn’t like it, but I could manage it. This wound hurt because it was Ford. In light of what happened last night with Jasmine, and even before that…this clarified things.
Ford hated me, and any kindness that he’d shown me was just his way of pretending.
He was playing me. Likely telling everyone bullshit about me behind my back.
My life felt like a poorly woven sweater that seemed to come undone with the lightest touch.
Trapped inside a prison of my own design because of my desire to stay in a town that I should have left long ago.
I had to get up. While there was no band arriving tonight, there were accounts to balance and a variety of emails I needed to get to.
Maybe in the past, Rodney wouldn’t have cared if I took the night off, but after the situation with the bass player and Ford, he’d been snappy and snarky.
I informed him that I was assaulted, and that Ford came to my rescue, but he argued that what Ford did was outrageous.
It made everything worse. He then lectured me on having any Stone Riders in the club and how that was a bad idea.
I listened, unsure with what I should do.
He was holding my dream position hostage, and all I wanted was for him to walk away so I could have it, but I felt like I had no choice but to do what he wanted.
The sky was nearly dark outside when I finally tucked the two pages into my jacket pocket and began closing up the house. I was supposed to start my shift around four, and now as I glanced at my watch, I saw it was close to seven.
I’d ignored the few alerts that came through on my watch, notifying me of someone attempting to reach me. Once I pulled my phone out, I sifted through the notifications. A throbbing sensation continued behind my eyes, but I blinked past it.
Rodney: You coming in tonight?
Rodney: A little warning would have been nice.
Rodney: Are you on your way, I have a rep from Ion Records here, asking if he can talk to you about the upcoming set for next week.
Rodney: Where the hell do you keep the set list?!
Rodney: Shit, Royce. I thought you wanted this promotion. This little stunt does not bode well for you.
Fear gripped me for a second before I remembered what Ford had said about Rodney faking the accounts and hiding things from me. He was using me. I wasn’t sure how yet, but I was going to figure it out.
Just as I moved to my bike, I glanced over my shoulder, checking the darkened trees.
There was a branch that snapped in the other direction, making my head turn.
Something twisted in my stomach, forcing me to straddle the leather seat and pull my helmet on.
I started my bike and then quickly shot off into the evening dusk.
As I drove back into town, I couldn’t help but remember the boot print I’d found in the boys’ room. Someone aside from me had been visiting the orchard.
The way my insides were shaking when I got into town had me turning into a neighborhood that I shouldn’t have been in.
I was feeling reckless, and I wasn’t sure what to do with all of the emotions at war in my chest, but going to work wasn’t an option.
Someone could have been watching me. They could have taken me.
Fuck.
I parked a few houses down from the place I knew I shouldn’t be and pulled my phone out, dialing a number.
“Royce?”
Anger exploded from me as I yelled, “Where the hell have you been? You left me, Taryn. I’ve needed you, and now, I could have been abducted tonight, and you wouldn’t have even known.”
“Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?”
I paused, rubbing the stress out of my forehead. “Where are you, T?”
“I’m home. Geez, Royce. I know we need to talk, but you don’t typically hit this sort of level of upset out there in the wild. You need to come have your crashout at home.”
A sob got caught in my throat. “Fuck you.”
She paused, and while she typically would curse me in return, this time she didn’t. Her voice was gentle as she said, “Tell me where you are so I can come get you.”
More anger surged as I swiped at my eyes. “You’d know where I was if you hadn’t turned off location sharing.”
A long pause on her end followed by a deep sigh skittered down my spine, warning me that she might just confirm everything I was afraid of.
“Where are you, Royce?”
“I’m parked on Ford Ryan’s street.”
My sister made a sound, and then I heard the door shut on her end. “What do you want to do in Ford’s house, Royce?”
I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but I had no idea if it would work. “I want to steal Gus back. If he’s not there, then I want to steal something else. I want to mess with him the way he’s messed with me.”
Keys jingled and knew my sister was on her way to me. Something in my chest eased, like releasing a pressure valve.
“I’ll be there in eight minutes.”
A smile slipped along my mouth, reluctantly.
It took fifteen minutes to get into town from our house, but I loved that my sister would drop everything and come for me when I needed her.
I was still pissed at her, but now I was marginally less pissed.
I hung up and watched the house, hoping like hell that a cute gray cat was currently sleeping inside.
We cut through a side yard and rounded a quaint house. It was surrounded by a waist-high white picket fence, bordering an overgrown yard. The home was white brick with black trim and a red, chipped door.
“The man needs to update the house,” Taryn said quietly.
I ran my hand over the top of his worn picket fence while we made our way to the entry gate.
“He also needs a good landscaper or to buy a mower. Are we going in through the front door or—”
Taryn kept walking until we passed his house and moved to the neighbors’. “Just follow me and keep your head down like I told you.”