Chapter Twenty Three
Blair
Iget up early, leaving Bray snoring in my bed, his bare, muscled chest on display. Shaking my head at my thoughts, I refrain from climbing back in next to him and just letting him hold me. It’s wrong, it’s stupid. I promised myself I’d stay away, so how did I end up sleeping with him all night?
Fucking idiot.
Needing to get out of the house, I grab some clothes and my keys. As quietly as possible, I leave the room and get dressed in the kitchen as the others sleep. On bare feet, boots in hand, I rush downstairs and out of the front door. Why did sleeping with him, just sleeping, feel so much more intimate than anything I have ever done with a man or woman?
They’re getting too close. I need to draw limits and build myself back up before I see them again, which is why I’m running from my own place—not mine, theirs. I don’t belong here, and the faster I remember that, the better. I find myself hurrying to my car with only one escape in mind.
Faye’s.
But when I catch sight of my car, I freeze, my breath catching as I stare. On my window is a bouquet of red roses... the same type of flower as before. I stumble back, holding my keys tighter as I scan the area, fear filling my veins.
Impossible. He can’t be… he can’t, but it doesn’t stop the terror blooming within me. I refuse to run though. I watch my surroundings, but nothing moves, and I slump. It must have been one of the guys thinking it was funny. It’s fucking not. I grab the roses, ready to smash them into the ground, when a car idling beyond the gates of the house catches my attention.
A police car.
Pissed as hell as my fear morphs into anger, I storm towards it. The gates open, and I get right up to the window and smash my fist into it. He rolls his eyes and winds down the window. Fucking Officer Small Dick really isn’t getting the hint.
“So you’re stalking me at my house now, asshole?” I snap. “This is fucking sick—”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” he snarls, trying to get out of the door, but I slam it shut with my hip as he snarls. “I was stalking the Crew brothers.”
“Why?” I ask with a frown, not believing his answer nor the fact he would so easily tell me. He must be worried about me reporting him—really worried if the frown tugging at his lips is any indication.
“We’ve been trying to catch them in something we can prosecute them on for a while. I followed them. I didn’t even know you lived here... makes sense.”
“Stay the fuck away from me,” I demand and throw the flowers at him. “And take your ugly ass flowers back.”
“I didn’t leave them,” he calls after me, making me freeze again. If he didn’t... then who did?
Could he...
No, it had to be Bray or Asher. Still angry and shaken from the mere memory the flowers caused, I get in my car and speed off. I drive way over the limit as the morning sun shines down at me.
Weak, I’m so fucking weak.
Some fucking flowers triggered me, how fucking pathetic is that? Fuck! I slam my hands onto the wheel, and before I know it, I’m at Faye’s house. I bet they’re asleep, but I need her. I need to forget, so I get out and go around the back and climb the tree near her window and slip inside.
She’s sleeping in her bed, and as I shut the window, she jerks awake. Sitting up, she blinks at me, half asleep. “Blair?” she asks, confused.
I throw myself on the bed, making her bounce and roll into me as I stare at the ceiling. “Hi,” I mutter dumbly.
“Are you okay?” she murmurs around a yawn, wiping at her face as she snuggles into the duvet and watches me.
“Great,” I mumble even though it’s a lie. I came here to feel better, but with her staring at me, demanding to know what’s wrong, I realise it was a mistake. She sees too much, sees through me, and she’s going to know I’m not okay. I’m still not fully put together after last night’s encounter with my mother and then the flowers. She will want to know, and what can I say?
I slept in a bed with a boy, got freaked, and ran away? Some flowers made me want to break into a panic attack at—
No.
“Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?” she says, fully awake now and worried... for me.
“How was your date?” I ask instead.
“A fucking mess, he was an idiot. Remind me to never date again.” She sighs but then glares at me as I grin. “You’re not changing the subject. What’s wrong? You are as pale as a fucking ghost and look totally freaked out. Tell me.”