My pulse stutters.
I stare at it for a full minute.
Then I press play.
His voice pours through the speaker like low, rough velvet.
“Annabelle.”
Just my name.
It does something to me.
He continues.
“He doesn’t get to rewrite the story. Not when you’re finally living it. And you’re not going back.”
There’s a pause, soft breathing, like he’s deciding whether to say the last line.
Then:
“Sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The message ends.
My heart does something reckless.
I stare at my phone and whisper into the quiet apartment:
“This is getting dangerous.”
And deep down, I already know the truth.
It’s too late to stop it.
Chapter fourteen
Bryce
“Stop trying to break the vending machine. It’s not going to give you free Sour Patch Kids just because you’re scowling at it.”
Dex says it like he’s bored, but he’s grinning like an idiot.
“I’m not scowling,” I mutter.
Colby looks over. “Oh you’re scowling. You’re giving full ‘brooding villain who hates joy’ energy.”
Eli chimes in without looking up from his phone. “Zero out of ten. Would not approach. Looks like he eats people.”
I flip them off without looking.
Dex whistles. “Yup. There it is. The international sign for ‘I’m pissed and emotionally compromised.’”
I grab the damn Sour Patch Kids with a little more force than necessary.
We’re still in the visiting arena hallway after a brutal overtime loss.
One stupid rebound. One stupid half-second hesitation. One stupid missed opportunity.
