Her blue eyes are as wide as saucers, frenzy flickering in them. She hastily scans the arena around us, making sure to keep her voice low so no one can hear.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Her tone is low and laced with alarm.
A deep breath fills my lungs but does nothing to ease my hysteria. “That girl,” I hiss quietly, “is my ex-girlfriend, Raven.”
“I thought . . .” she trails off, a distant look in her gaze.
“It’s her.” I confirm, my voice shaking and on edge. I run my hands down my face. My nerves are now lit up like a live wire.
“How . . .” Laur’s voice is barely audible. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Laur plants a tender kiss on unmoving lips. Her distress mirrors mine. She nervously twirls her hair around her finger.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I swear I didn’t know.”
“I know,” I lean in to kiss her cheek. This isn’t her fault. “I trust you. I know it’s not your fault.”
“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” she vows again with more certainty. “I promise.”
As I watch her leave, the weight on my heart lifts a fraction just knowing how much I love her. It will be harder on her to have Raven here than it will on me, but I am still so caught off guard.
What the hell kind of game is Raven playing now?
Chapter thirty-four
Laur
Each breath I take causes pain through my entire body as if I am breathing polluted air. How is Raven Matthews the same Raven Lucas dated? She must have changed her last name.
Thinking about how I’ll have to spend an entire year working with her and watching her with him feels like a punch to the gut. Jealousy flares my nostrils.
“Lauren.”
Turning around, my eyes fall to the conniving girl. Raven’s gaze is full of remorse but the only thing I can see in the dark green of her eyes is a snake in the grass. A muscle ticks in my jaw as if I’m ready to chew her head off.
“Can I talk to you?” Raven asks in a hushed tone. “I want to explain.”
It takes every ounce of self-control I have to hold it together and not scream in her face.
“I . . .” Restraint coils tight beneath my skin as each word comes out hasty but collected and smooth. “I’ve got to go.”
As soon as I’m out the front doors, my feet launch me into a dead run toward home. The world blurs around me as tears pool in my eyes.
The slam of the front door echoes throughout the house as I force it closed behind me, falling to the floor against it. Yanking out my phone, I dial Bren’s number.
No answer.
My fingers quickly tap her name, calling her again.
“C’mon, pick up,” I mutter as the ringing continues.
She doesn’t answer. Logic tells me she’s probably working but my brain is operating on emotion, not logic. Putting my head in my hands, I let out a frantic cry and let the tears fall.
The tears don’t stop. They cover my cheeks, my shirt, some even manage to find their way to the hardwood floor. Sniffling, I try Bren one more time.
“Please pick up,” I desperately sob.
Still no answer.
