I had a heaping spoonful halfway to my mouth when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Normally I wouldn’t have checked the message. Phones at the table during Thanksgiving just seemed rude, but something had me quickly shoving the potatoes into my mouth and reaching for my phone.
I fished it out of my back pocket, careful to keep the phone below the white cloth as I unlocked the phone. Brock shot me a sidelong glance for a second before tuning back into the conversation at the sound of Grayson mentioning his name.
Did I think that Angie would wish me a happy Thanksgiving? Easton had earlier in the day. But I’d already established that Angie wasn’t Easton. They weren’t even in the same parental league.
I knew this in my head. Too fucking bad my heart was disappointed.
She wasn’t even my mother, and she still somehow managed to hurt me.
The number wasn’t Angie’s. It was an unknown contact, which was a huge red flag. It was the same number who had sent me the news article of Angie’s arrest on Monday.
This time it was a picture.
And in two seconds, the high I’d been riding all day came crashing down. The turkey I’d eaten churned in my stomach.
I stared at the photo of Brock and Kenna in a compromising position. She had her body pressed against his, pinning him to his SUV, their lips locked in what looked like an intense kiss, Brock’s fingers at her hips. The picture was taken from the side at such an angle that both of their faces were easily recognizable. There was no mistaking the two people in the photo.
I let out a small gasp, just loud enough for Brock, who sat beside me, to hear.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from the image, even when I sensed Brock’s gaze and felt the frown that suddenly deepened his lips. His body tensed, and his fingers went to grab my phone, but I jerked it out of his reach.
We were drawing too much attention. I lifted my eyes and noticed that Grayson and Kenna were both glancing at us with confused and questioning glares. I could all but read Grayson’s mind.What the fuck is going on?That was definitely the question I saw reflecting in his cognac eyes.
Like a bad relationship, I returned to the photo.
How dare he. How fucking dare he! The fact that Carter managed to ruin my first holiday with my family wasn’t lost on me.
I’d love to believe it was photoshopped like the pictures Brock received, and perhaps it was, but it didn’t change how I felt seeing the two of them lip-locked. It sucked. Like kicked to the gut sucked, leaving me breathless.
It was probably an older picture from two years ago, that was what I told myself. Now if I could only make myself believe it. Regardless of when, I was sure there was a reasonable explanation for Brock to have his tongue down my sister’s throat.
There fucking better be, because jealousy reared its ugly head inside me. My emotions didn’t care if it was yesterday, two years ago, or five years. There was just something incredibly hurtful about seeing your boyfriend with another girl, particularly when that girl was your sister who looked too damn much like me.
I could have gone my entire life without seeing this image, because now that I had, it was all I could think about.
What was the message Carter was trying to send? That Brock was cheating on me? Or was the douche just trying to mess with my head? Get me to doubt the guy I trusted the most?
I was going with option D. All of the above.
Another text came through as I stared at the screen, the chatter around the table like background noise to the red-hot jealousy and pain lancing through my heart.Do you really think you’re the only girl he is messing with? There is more where this came from. If you want to see them, meet me on Sunday at midnight. Behind the school. Come alone or the proof burns.
My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. I read the text again.
He couldn’t be serious. Why would I ever meet him alone? It had to be Carter. Right? It was so obvious.
And if by some small chance it wasn’t Carter, was I considering meeting this person?
I’d be a fucking idiot, like one of those girls in every horror film who goes into the abandoned house alone. I was not dumb. I’d find a way to outsmart the lunatic or use this as an opportunity. The wheels in my head turned.
And if it wasn’t Carter, what was this person's motive? Was Brock Taylor honestly cheating on me? Like when did he have the time?
“Josie.”
I glanced up, and from the concerned expression on Liana’s face, I figured it wasn’t the first time she’d called my name. “Sorry. I spaced out for a moment.” I dropped my phone onto my lap, fighting the urge to crawl under the table. My cheeks heated as everyone at the table looked at me. Liana and Chandler probably assumed it was embarrassment, but Brock and Grayson knew better.
It was fury that stained my cheeks with color.
Liana offered me a soft, understanding smile. “Overwhelming, isn’t it?”