CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Sebastian
“She did what?” I bark into my phone, shoving my feet into my trainers and marching out of my room at Theo’s only seconds after I entered.
Alex and I bolted straight after practice when his dad called and demanded his presence at home. We didn’t even hang around long enough to shower, something I’m now regretting.
Toby speaks on the other end, but I hardly hear the words. I don’t need to. I already know enough.
Teagan’s got a fucking death wish. If Stella doesn’t take her out with her pretty pink switchblade—that I might even give back just to watch her threaten Teag with—then one of us will.
Teagan should know better than this. She might not be part of the Family, but she knows damn well not to cross us. Or at least I thought she did. It seems she’s dumber than she looks.
“I’ll sort it,” I bark down the line, hanging up and connecting my phone to my car so I can make a few more calls to get shit fixed.
By the time I pull up outside Stella’s house and find her damaged Porsche sitting out the front, my knuckles are white with anger.
I don’t second guess myself as I let myself into the back of the house just like I did on Sunday night.
The sound of music playing in the kitchen filters down the hallway, but I don’t hear any other signs of there being anyone around.
Taking myself up to her room, I find it empty. The bathroom too.
“Shit,” I bark, lifting my hand to my hair.
Where would she have gone?
It’s in that moment that I realise that I don’t really know anything about the girl that’s taken up almost every one of my thoughts, dreams, and nightmares over the past few weeks.
The only place I can think of is the graveyard.
But would she really go back there because of this bullshit?
As I make my way back down the stairs, another noise hits my ears—a rhythmic thud coming from an open door at the other end of the hall.
Intrigued, I make my way down the stairs to find a state-of-the-art gym that rivals Damien’s. And at the very far end of the vast room, I find the person I’m looking for.
Wearing a pair of black and pink leggings and a sports bra, her tiny fists are pummelling the punching bag with everything she’s got.
Her skin is glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her skin as she moves, her muscles pulling, her body twisting in the most hypnotising way as she takes all her anger out on the bag.
I lose myself watching her, and it’s not until I drop her bag to the floor with a loud thud that I even really remember where I am.
I’m not the only one it startles either because Stella stills, her chest heaving before she slowly looks over her shoulder.
If I thought the sight of her venting her anger did something to me, then the sight of her face with tears streaked down her cheeks fucking wrecks me.
“Helli—”
“Don’t,” she snaps, her voice hard, void of any emotion. “I’m too fucking angry to deal with your bullshit.”
I take a step forward and she turns to me, her eyes dropping to the bag at my feet.
“Where did you get that?”
“Toby called me. I picked it up for you.”
“For me?” she asks suspiciously, her brows drawing together. “I don’t even remember dropping it,” she mutters to herself.