Page 21 of Tate: Gemini King
“Yes. For the court case,” Andi asks.
“I am not pressing charges.”
“Was it a cringey Tinder date gone wrong?” Andi yells, like her man hasn’t seen me in enough of a humiliating position. Once I’m free, he throws a blanket at me, like I’m somehow in the wrong for my state of dress in my own damn bedroom.
“It was an everything gone wrong,” I say.
Dylan scoffs. “It’s pretty easy to see what went on here.”
What is he now, a damn cop?
Terrorist runs back into the bedroom, and barks at me, so I put him back on my lap. Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought… I stroke his ears and apparently, that’s taking it a little too far because the dog pisses all over me. I scream as the warm puddle erupts from his little pee pee and I am officially being used as a doggy pad.
Dylan springs into action and grabs Terrorist off my lap before I leap off the bed and accidentally yeet him across the room.
“I HATE TATE WHITMARSH!” I scream impulsively at the top of my lungs. Why am I such a dumbass? “I HATE HIM!!”
There goes my secret.
* * *
ten
Tate
I am in a straight up panic on the drive home. I nearly kill a family of five I’m driving so fucking recklessly to get back to the apartment. The stupid hospital wouldn’t let me leave unless I was completely cleared from the car crash and they wouldn’t listen to me that a sprained wrist isn’t a big deal.
Yup, that happened. Shit really hit the fucking fan after the press showed up at the mansion and the ensuing drama getting all the cars and trucks out of the driveway led to several cars piling up. Completely fucked up.
Dylan Callahan wouldn’t answer his stupid phone so I couldn’t even call in the favor his stupid ass definitely owes me and make him rescue me from the hospital. I have to wait and apparently due to an “uptick in escapes” there are guards everywhere. Why do we need guards as a hospital?
I’m losing my mind thinking about Natasha out there alone…
Terrorist could be dead by now and as for Natasha… If she’s not dead, she is going to kill me. I hope she doesn’t kill me. This is not my fault. I hate the press for a reason. This will be the second time they ruin my fucking life.
It’s not fair. I had plans for that woman and getting stuck in the hospital after saving a bunch of teenagers from an orgy gone wrong was not how I intended to spend my night. Just when I start thinking this small town is magical again, everything gets fucked up. I’m starting to think someone put a goddamn curse on me. I should have been in bed with Natasha last night… not doing this shit.
I can tell something is wrong once I get my truck in the driveway. All the lights are on inside, but I don’t see any signs of Natasha’s car. I unlock the front door which is crazy because I never leave it locked. I have guns in there for self-defense and what type of idiot would case a house with a 6’8” resident and break in when there are plenty of small potatoes who are much easier to kill?
Natasha thinks I’m wrong about locking the house so if she’s gone and the front door is locked… she’s gone too.
I search all over the apartment for her and confirm my worst fears. She took Terrorist and she left. There isn’t even a single pair of underwear left in her dresser drawer. She moved out.
It feels like I got punched in the gut. I don’t know why I raced over here expecting to see her. Expecting to at least hear from her if she got free. I didn’t want to send anyone over here to find her tied up with her ass in the air. Fuck.
I pull out my phone and text her now that I know she somehow got her hands free. The message bounces back. My throat drops directly into my ass. I have never felt such horror and rejection in my entire life. My entire world spirals around me as I consider what I could have done differently. What kind of woman would do something so horrible to someone? I didn’t think Natasha was this type of person.
She blocked me.
I move swiftly from grief to anger. What the fuck? Natasha can’t block me. I’m her roommate. We have a dog together. She can’t just shove Terrorist in the back of her sedan and bring him wherever she wants. I demand custody… Since Natasha’s crazy ass won’t answer my text messages, I have no choice but to do what any normal man would do – stalk her on social media, stalk her in real life and then get her ass back exactly where I want her…
The first thing I do is drive to Dylan’s place. Nobody home. I sit in his parking lot for half an hour and then I open social media on my phone and look at everyone’s page and story for signs of Natasha or her car in the background. We live in a small town and have a lot of mutual connections. She can’t be that hard to find…
But I still feel this sense of panic. Like I’ve lost her forever. This is not how I wanted things to end up between the two of us. I never wanted Natasha to walk away from me hating my guts. I thought I could fix things between us with shrimp alfredo, red wine, some dick, and a puppy, but I fucked things up even more.
Maybe it’s not the town that’s cursed… maybe it’s me.
I don’t know what the fuck to do, so I text everyone I can about Natasha’s whereabouts and get a good night’s sleep. So to translate firefighter time – I sleep all day after getting home and then straight through the night. Every phantom vibration throughout the night wakes me up. I want it to be her unblocking me and offering to come over and suck my cock.