Page 32 of Fall onto me
“Beer?” Ryder asks when we join the rest of them in the living room.
“Nah.” He shakes his head, going for one of the bottles of liquor on the counter. It’s cheap and new. He twists the cap and chugs a few gulps down.
I sink in next to Kate on the couch, and Foster sits beside me. “You good?” I ask him.
“Fucking peachy, Shadow.” He kisses my forehead.
Ryder, a little tipsy, claps his hands together. “We’re thinking about moving to the coastline.”
I tilt my head towards my best friend, “You are?”
She sighs, “I wanted to talk to you about it later, but he spoiled the fun.”
“No!” I sing. “This is incredible. I’m so happy for you two.” I am happy, but a frown showcases itself. These are plans I would love to be making, but I can’t think about my future like my friends do.
“Have you found a place?” I wonder.
“Yes! There are some adorable condos, small but great for a starter and affordable.”
I sneak a quick glance at Foster, who is looking down at his boots, clutching that bottle in his hands. “I need to smoke.” His voice slices through me; the anger in his tone wasn’t intentional, but it was there.
His tan skin is flushed red, and the longer he stays in here, the angrier he will grow.
He’s gone in a flash, and I give him a few moments before following.
I step outside to fucking chaos.
Mac is here, his chest pressed against Foster’s. They’re standing at the bottom of the steps, faces inches away from each other in a standoff that looks anything but calm.
I would never worry about Foster losing a fight, but Mac is sober, and his friends are surrounding my boyfriend in a circle.
“Want to fucking do this again?” Foster asks him calmly, flicking his cigarette past Mac’s head.
I open the door and shout for help, but before our group shows up, Foster punches Mac in the face, splitting his lip underneath the moonlight.
“Fuckkkk!” I hiss as the group of outsiders cusses and closes in around Foster. He gets a punch in on a few, but someone reaches his eye.
Brett rushes out, pushing people away and breaking up their circle that would have absolutely led to a jumping if others didn’t show up. Warren, Ryder, and Callum rush out with baseball bats in hand.
“Who fucking wants some?” Warren shouts, slapping the metal bat into his palm.
They step away, leaving me to rush towards Foster, and while he doesn’t look as bad as Mac does, there is a gash slicing through his left brow that’s going to leave a scar. I take my scrunchie and attempt to dab the blood away. The other guys are shouting at my friends, but there are no punches or bats being swung.
In a calm voice, I kiss his cheek and whisper, “There is no point to being violent, Foster.” My words of wisdom fly out the window when I see her.
“What is she doing here?” I snarl.
I take off in a sprint, but Foster grabs me, hoisting my body over his shoulder. “Let me fucking go!” I scream, watching with laser focus as Envy looks my way, grins, and does a little wave. “Foster, put me down!”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s the type that will call the fucking cops. I can’t have you in jail.”
Callum notices my thrashing and helps Foster in holding me down. “Come here!” I scream to the little green bitch. “You fucking coward!” The thunder overhead doesn’t match the violence in my tone.
Warren smacks his bat against the driveway, sending an echoing ting across my screams. “Get the fuck out of here. If you’re from this fucking group,”—he pulls it up and sweeps the bat across the outsiders—“get the fuck off my property.”