Page 128 of Addicted

My stomach dropped.

Kenzo answered, putting the phone to his ear. “Yo, what’s up?”

I watched his face. Watched as his expression shifted from casual to concerned.

“What the fuck?” he said. “When?”

My chest tightened.

“Aight, hold on,” Kenzo said. “We’ll figure it out.”

He hung up and looked at me.

And I already knew.

“What happened, Zo?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

“Aurora said Indie called her like an hour ago, said she was on her way,” Kenzo said. “But she never showed up. Aurora’s been trying to call her, but she ain’t answering.”

I felt like my chest was caving in. Like someone had reached inside and squeezed my heart until it stopped beating.

I pulled out my phone and called Javion. No answer. I called Troy. Still no answer.

“Fuck!” I roared, my hand tightening around my phone.

I knew.

I fuckin’ knew it.

Ain’t no way this was anybody but Wes.

And I was pissed at myself. Pissed that I hadn’t put that nigga in the dirt the second I suspected something was off. Pissed that I’d let him live long enough todo this.

“Stone—” Kenzo started.

The moment he opened his mouth, I fuckin’ snapped. I was so consumed by rage that I couldn’t control myself. I snatched Zo up by his shirt and hemmed him up against the wall like I was trying to push him through that bitch.

We struggled a bit until I overpowered him to the point that he just stopped fighting back. I felt like he could’ve gotten loose if he really tried, but he didn’t.

“I told you. I fuckin’ told you, Zo! Is you working with this nigga or some shit?” I demanded, nose to nose with him at that point.

“Fuck no!”

Zo was my brother, but I could literally break his neck right now as livid as I was. I still believed him though.

Antoine, Deacon, and everybody else watched in confusion but they didn’t step in.

Zo finally broke free from my grip and repositioned himself, but he didn’t engage me again, because he knew I was right. He fucked up in the worst way.

I called Javion’s phone again. No answer. I called Troy. No fuckin’ answer. I called Indie. Straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I yelled, hurling my phone across the room. It smashed into the wall and the screen shattered.

Everybody was staring at me, their faces a mix of shock and concern, but I didn’t give a fuck. I didn’t give a fuck about anything except getting Indie back.

“Stone,” Kenzo said quietly. “We’ll find her. I promise.”

I turned to look at him, and I knew my face was amask of rage and pain.