Page 97 of The Pact

My cries and curses fight with the sound coming from the speakers. This time he doesn’t tell me to quiet down. My hips buck into his touch until I’m falling limp in the seat.

Little aftershocks hit me as Cole pulls away. My head rolls to the side to look at him. I find him bringing his fingers to lips, his tongue drags across them slowly as he savors the taste of me. It leaves me breathless. Cole Wolfe can’t get any hotter.

I see my phone blink to life on the nightstand of the guest room at Cole’s house. I’ve had a proper meal, showered again, and I’m finally getting around to checking my notifications.

The guys were home to greet us when we arrived. I have the nagging feeling that they could tell that Cole and I fucked last night. Maybe I’m being paranoid, however, the three of them had shit-eating grins on their faces when we walked through the door.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I unlock my phone. A few missed calls, possibly from clients, but then I see one from my landlord. My voicemail icon also shows up.

Then there’s the list of missed texts—the group chat, Cassie, ugh…my mom. I decide on the voicemail first.

When I hear Kenneth’s voice, I hope that he’s calling to tell me I can move back into my apartment. Although, with Gavin lurking around, that might not be a safe option.

“Ms. Griffin, I need you to call me when you get this. It’s Kenneth, by the way.” His tone is clipped.

I hit the call button. He answers on the second ring.

“Hi, Kenneth. It’s Thea. I got your voicemail.”

There’s silence on the other end. Probably piecing together who he’s talking to.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Griffin. We-uh…we found the source of the clog. There was a ton of stuff shoved down the overflow drain of your sink. Most of it’s random garbage, but towards the top, there was something strange.”

I have no clue what Kenneth is about to tell me, yet my blood runs cold. My intuition warning me what he has to say won’t be good.

“I’m sending you a picture.”

A moment later, I see the notification from Kenneth with an image attached.

I tap the message. A photo appears.

In Kenneth’s hand, there’s a Ziplock bag, although it’s what’s inside that makes nausea roll through my stomach. Inside is a piece of paper with black writing. Stop fucking around, Thea. The bold letters remind me of the paper that was stuck in my truck’s air vent. I can’t tell for sure if the handwriting is the same, but how could it not be?

“Did you get it?” Kenneth questions on the other end.

I clear the thickness that’s building in my throat. “I-I did. I don’t know where that came from.”

My landlord sighs. “Ms. Griffin, I believe you, however, clearly you’re mixed up with some bad people and I can’t have that becoming a problem for me. I’m terminating your lease, I’ll keep the balance of your rent and your security deposit to cover the damages. Call me when you want to grab your things.” He hangs up without letting me fight for a chance to stay.

I don’t feel distraught this time. I don’t feel like crying. The phone drops from my hand onto the bed. I’m numb. A hollow coldness settles over me.

All I can focus on is one breath after another. If I think too hard about the implications of this, I might break.

I need to make a list.

33

THEA

My feet carry me upstairs, although I feel like I’m floating. I don’t feel real.

I need my computer. My thoughts feel fragmented and detached. When I get to the dining room, I sit down in front of it and hit the power button.

“You clean up nice, blue eyes,” Wesley calls out from the kitchen. I hardly hear him. I pull up a sticky note on my desktop and start typing. “Hey, you alright?”

“Why’s she so pale?” I distantly hear Damian ask.

“Things apartment…storage facility…call mom…Cassie property…” I’m mumbling these incoherent things and hitting the keys, unsure if my notes are going to make sense when I go back and read them.

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