CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
MICAH
Some people started their mornings off with a bowl of Wheaties. My favorite way to start the day was a dose of Mads. Morning sex was literally like my cup of caffeine. I felt energized and ready to show Sterling just how much he royally fucked-up messing with my girl.
Ideas bounced around in my head—too many. I needed a few moments to sort through all the crazy ones and flesh out those that had grit to them.
I drummed my fingers on the glass case as I waited for the employee to ring up my phone replacement. I smirked, recalling Kenna’s foolish yet amusing antics last night.
She secretly had my stamp of approval.
If Grayson found out…
I swallowed a laugh, picturing him losing his shit as he often did.
Even if Chi Sigma didn’t report the graffiti to the school board, the prank would spread through KU like a fucking STD, and that was exactly what Kenna wanted. It wasn’t just the act itself, the danger, the sneaking around that drew her to her late-night hobby. It was the aftermath that gave her the thrill she sought, seeing how the people around her reacted and her watching in plain sight.
With my phone in hand, I hopped into my Hummer and booted the device up, going through screen after screen of prompts. I had a feeling this would be only one of many new phones in my future.
A breeze fluttered through my open window, ruffling my hair and carrying traces of the light rain that had fallen in the early hours of morning. It smelled fresh, like the world had taken a cleansing shower, washing away the sticky heat of the last few days. Even the birds were energetic, like the little fucker repeatedly tapping his beak against the tree trunk beside my car.
The phone went through the transfer of all my data, and as soon as the home screen appeared, a slew of text message notifications popped up. I didn’t have to be a psychic to know some of them would be from Sterling.
I told myself I was prepared, that I could handle it, but fuck if my heart didn’t speed up a little, adrenaline spiking in my blood as I tapped the messaging app. The unknown number stuck out. After having just left the warmth of Mads’s body, a sense of wrongness or dirtiness ribboned inside me, as if Sterling somehow stained what Mads and I had, lessening the relationship we both worked to make happen. I couldn’t let him come between us. Sterling had been nothing but noise, interrupting the steady frequency of our budding feelings.
I touched the anonymous number. No text, just another two pictures of Mads. Different poses and one of her sleeping, much like how she looked last night. Her face was perhaps a tad more mature now than in the photo. Despite hating that Sterling had these in his possession, I couldn’t help but notice Mads’s beauty. I glanced closely at the details, searching to see if something odd stuck out to me.
I recognized the room. I’d snuck inside enough over the years to know the different phases of Mads’s style, and this had been taken during high school. A new layer of anger stacked on top of what I already felt, and my just-out-of-the-box phone was almost chucked into the street. I restrained the profound impulse, my knuckles going white as I squeezed the shit out of the mobile device.
Tossing my phone onto the passenger seat, I started the Hummer and rammed my foot on the gas. The engine roared, jerking off down the road.
When I stormed into my house fifteen minutes later, Brock sat in front of his laptop at the kitchen dinette. He glanced up as I went to the fridge and pulled out a chilled beer. I popped the cap off on the edge of the counter and pressed the bottle to my lips, tipping my head back.
“A little early, even for you. Did something happen last night?” Brock asked, watching me. “You didn’t sleep here.”
“I was at Mads’s.” My response came out clipped.
He took in the rigidness of my body and waited until I drained the beer, seeing I was in a fucking mood. “Is she okay?”
It wasn’t Mads who needed me last night. It had been the other way around. “Yeah, she’s good.” I crushed the can in my hand. “He’s sending me little gifts.”
Brock twisted in his chair, the screen on his computer going black into sleep mode. “Gifts? You mean pictures?”
I nodded. He excelled at manipulation and torment tactics, so it didn’t surprise me one bit that he’d guessed Sterling’s next ploy.
Brock’s lips pulled into an evil grin. “Then you’re going to love this. Apparently your boy is claiming that you put him in the hospital that night.”
I tossed the empty can into the sink. “What? Bullshit,” I hissed. “He walked away. Same as me.”
“We know that. But the school board…”
“Fuck. What a dick move.” Had he actually gone and filed a report? Of course he had. It was just another ruse that pointed Sterling’s target as me, not Mads. “Can you make this go away?” I had plenty of black marks on my record, and Fynn had always been our personal eraser.
“It’s already done,” he stated. “You don’t have to worry about the school board. My parents and yours both made substantial donations. They won’t risk losing any future funds.”
I despised this side of politics, but money talked. Or, in most cases, shut the right people up. “Fucking pussy.”
Perhaps sporting a black eye, a few cuts, and some bruises didn’t live up to his frat boy reputation, but for someone who liked to pretend he was a bad guy, it didn’t add up. Was that why he’d skipped classes this week? Hid away in his frat house, too ashamed to show his beaten-up pretty boy face? Licking his wounds and playing the fucking victim?