Page 14 of Finding Fate
“I passed out. They gotta go.”
“Yeah . . . pretty sure I just figured out big tits has a boyfriend. He’s been blowing her phone up for the last hour. I’m taking their asses back to the club. I’m not trying to die today by pulling up at someone’s house. Unless, of course, you want to do it. She fucked you first.”
“Not really.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Didn’t figure you would, asshole. You owe me one.” He opens the basement door. “Yo, let’s go.”
The shame is already washing over me just from the sound of them walking up the stairs. I turn around and make my way to the garage door to see them out, as in, to make sure they walk out the door. Konnor’s Tahoe pulls in the garage as I open the door. Where’s he been?
As soon as he kills the engine, the two front doors and one back opens. “I have a bone to pick with you,” Konnor says, his hair all over his head and his eyes red like he’s tired.
“Where have y’all been?”
He rounds the front and grabs my shirt, pulling me out the door toward Presley’s side, where she’s gathering stuff out of the front, and then he walks in front of me, letting go as we get close to the back door. He pulls someone out from behind it by the shuffling of feet, spinning around to face me, and the next thing I know I’m staring at a back. “You ever seen this before? Because I’ve never seen fucking whip marks look like this. They go all the way down her goddamn legs.”
I blink, my eyes studying every red, angry mark, taking on the appearance of raw skin. She tries tugging down her shirt, but he’s got his fist clenched around the fabric and holding her head to his shoulder. “You’re my friend, but I swear to God, if you knew he does this to her, especially after last night, I’m going to beat your ass myself.”
“What?”
“Konnor, I said it’s fine. Please stop making a scene.”
My eyes close at the sound of her voice.No.I pull at my hair, panic setting in, but then grab her arm to turn her around. Her dark eyes meet my green, making my heart stumble over itself to keep beating. “Gabby,” I whisper. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Locked in my room at Dad’s. He knew we were together. I went to pack my stuff. He knocked me out with a sedative to get me back home. I guess he wised up and knew I wasn’t going to come willingly.”
“He did that to you because you were with me?”
“Yes and no.”
“Jesus Christ. I’m going to kill him.”
“No, you’re not. He’s my dad. And I fought this hard to keep you out of jail. You sure as hell aren’t going now.”
The second her head tips and she looks around me, I know I’m fucked. When her eyes meet mine, she’s different. She’s that girl I watched beat an older girl’s ass at thirteen. The one that makes me hard with one foul word. The one that has me so fucking pussy-whipped I can’t see straight. The one I can’t let go of no matter how much time passes or how hard I try. Fuck. Now is not the time. She’s going to castrate me. “You took off in the middle of the night. I thought you left me,” I throw out like the pussy that I am with her. “You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Wow. You can’t even let your food settle before ordering skank off the menu?”
“I was upset. I went out. I was trashed. I regretted it the second it was over. I always do; even before you came back in the picture.”
“Which bimbo? Big boob Britney or wannabe Sandra D?”
“Why is that relevant?” Her stare hardens, making me want to crawl in a hole. Gabby’s dark brown eyes are lethal when she’s angry. “Both.”
“You son of a bitch. I can’t even look at you right now.”
She walks past me. I grab her arm. “Gab, they’re never you.”
She steps closer and grips my chin in her hand, bringing her lips toward mine. My breathing quickens. “That’s right, baby. No one will ever fuck you like me. I have your heart and live in your mind. The way you react to me—no one else will ever do that. The way I feel right now, knowing you were in another girl twenty-four hours after me, isn’t a tenth of the way you’ll feel over knowing your friends were out looking for me while you were fucking a pair of club whores. And when you’re oiling down my back later, staring at every mark, you can repeat to yourself as you count them that I stood there at the foot of my bed and took every one for us. Still, I’m the one that came to you. What did you do to fight for this? Not a motherfucking thing.” A droplet runs from the bottom of my eye. She watches it all the way down. “At least I know you still have a heart to break. Make sure the hookers get back to the street corner you found them on.”
She releases me and walks toward the door, passing between everyone as they move aside to let her by, and the second the door shuts my feet start to move, but Riggan grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me back before I can reach the doorknob. “Let her cool off before you fuck it up more. You’re too emotional right now.”
Anxiety spreads through my body, my heart is jacked-up, and I can’t fucking breathe. With every pull of air my lungs ache. Every word is echoing through my mind like it’s coming through a loudspeaker. Dizziness washes over me. Nausea rises. My vision is blacking in. I’m hot, and my temperature is spiking with every second. I’m starting to feel clammy, or wet, maybe covered in sweat. I don’t know. But every time I inhale it feels like a thick fog of smoke instead of clean air. I cough. “He’s fucking panicking,” Riggan says from behind me, holding me against his chest. I waver. “Breathe!” he orders directly into my ear.
“Kaysen, get them out of here,” Konnor yells. I blink hard, trying to keep focus on what’s in front of me—the door my life disappeared behind. If this is what dying feels like, it’s not peaceful at all. I need her. Nothing more. Nothing less. Her.
Eleven
Gabby