“He said gun. Why were you even close enough to get hit by someone with a fucking gun?” My concern quickly turns to anger.
“He tried to talk the guy into dropping it,” Josh explains, sounding exasperated.
“What the hell, Clay,” I exclaim, shoving him away. “You could’ve been shot! You could have died!” Tears form in my eyes, a mix of frustration and fear, and I punch his chest.
“Easy,” he soothes, but I can’t stop hitting him, and he lets me.
“No,” I murmur, the force behind my fists diminishing. “You promised.”
He gently grabs my wrists, holding them to his chest, and with his other hand, he lifts my chin so our eyes meet. “I’m okay. Nothing bad happened. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers.
I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. As I relax, he releases me, and Joshua gives me a comforting side hug, kissing my temple. “Come on, let’s feed the idiot.”
Sophia isin another corner of the cafeteria, getting herself a sandwich. I stand in front of the salad bar while Clay and Joshua are in line at the hot meal section.
Joshua was craving something fried, and Clay decided to join him for some fries and nuggets with a murmured, “Fuck it.”
As I’m about to grab a plate, a shiver runs down my spine, and I sense someone behind me.
“I don’t think the salad can help you anymore.” Del Moro sneers from behind me.
“Fuck off,” I snap, taking a step forward to put some distance between us, but he shadows my movement.
“You were warned to stop digging,” he whispers in my ear. I sidestep, trying to escape, but he catches my upper arm, yanking me back toward him. “Fucking listen to me, Costa!”
“If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I would have farted.” I jerk my arm free.
“Just remember, accidents happen. Your parents had to learn that too,” he growls out, his eyes cold and threatening.
“Martin, dude, let’s just go,” Taylor begs nervously, standing behind Del Moro.
“Enjoy your salad, fatty,” Del Moro utters, walking away, Taylor in tow.
“What the hell was that?” Sophia asks, rushing over to me. “Sorry, I just saw him leave.”
“It’s fine, nothing happened. But they really want us to stop looking closer,” I whisper, my heart still racing.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we’re onto something,” she whispers in response.
“We sure are,” I agree.
But I don’t know if this is a good thing.
TWENTY-FOUR
I nearly tripwhen I mess up again.
“Fuck,” I murmur, frustrated.
Jumping rope in the basement should help clear my mind, but I can’t nail the routine to “Up” by Cardi B.
After we got home tonight, I headed down here to work out. We had an early night for the second day in a row. It seems Swanson wants me to take it slow for a bit.
Even though we were home early, Xander was already asleep. And without him as a buffer for my thoughts, I can only obsess about her.
My mind’s been racing.
Carolina wants this.
