Page 5 of Forever Golden

“Why don’t I—”

“West,” Sterling cuts in with a stern glare. “We don’t have time for this shit. Stay focused.”

My fists tighten. I know he’s right, but it’s high time I put Ricky in his place. However, a second glare—from Dane this time—halts me. His eyes are saying the same as Sterling’s—Let it go. For now, anyway.

One deep breath later—and a promise to myself that I can deal with Ricky’s ass when there’s less going on—I manage to turn around and let the conversation die. Problem is, Ricky doesn’t seem to have the same idea. As soon as I decide to be the bigger man, he starts running his mouth again and something about this dickhead sets my nerves on edge, making ignoring him virtually impossible.

“All I have to say is, let me find out your punk-ass daddy did or said some shit that’s got Blue messed up, and I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what, bitch?” I’m down the steps in less than a second, right in his face, going over the thousands of reasons I have to knock his ass out cold. Unlike everyone else in his hood, I’m not scared of him.

“This ain’t what you want, rich boy. Trust me. Especially not tonight,” he warns.

Only, he’s wrong about that. This isexactlywhat I want—a chance to finish what we started when he showed up outside the fieldhouse. My chest slams his when I step closer, and he pushes back. It isn’t until Joss’s small frame wedges between us, putting a bit of distance where there was none, that I come to my senses again.

“Soooo… I vote we all just calm down and remember that we’re here to see about Blue,” she chimes in, placing one hand on Ricky’s chest and the other on mine.

I haven’t lost sight of why we’re here, but as usual when it comes to him, I’m seeing red, wondering what the hell Southside ever saw in a hothead like him. Then, it hits me. Probably the same shit she sees in me—crazy that matches her own.

I back off and start toward the door again, deciding to knock for a second time. Honestly, all I want is to get in there and see that she’s okay. I didn’t come here for Rickyorhis bullshit. However, when he pushes past, shoulder-checking me in the process, he tests my patience once again. But nothing sets my nerves on fire like seeing him pull a set of keys from his pocket. And it isn’t until he slides one into the lock that I accept it.

This asshole has a fucking key.

Tomygirl’s house.

I take a step toward him, deciding that tonight—right here and now—is the night Ricky Ruiz loses all his teeth, but three sets of hands grab me backward.

“This isn’t the time,” Sterling repeats quietly near my ear.

Seething, my gaze snaps to the right and I catch his. He shakes his head, urging me not to do whatever I had in mind, knowing this shit is eating away at me.

“Focus on Southside,” he adds quietly.

The statement is short, but it reminds me that being here has nothing to do with the ex who can’t seem to learn his fucking place. Hell, it doesn’t even have anything to do withme. The only person who’s important right now is her.

I hold my tongue when the key fucking works, solidifying my hatred for this prick as the front door swings open. Then, with the flip of a switch, the living room brightens from the light of a single lamp on the end table. There’s absolutely no sound whatsoever, other than blood rushing in my ears as my heart pumps double-time.

She’s not here.

She’s not fucking here.

It isn’t lost on me that had this been some weeks ago, my first thought when seeing Southside exit one of my father’s SUVs would’ve been that I was right about her. That she was, in fact, his latest piece of side-ass. But aside from the fact that I’ve since realized she’s not even capable of shit like that, the evidence that’s been mounting against Vin speaks for itself.

“Maybe she took off,” Sterling suggests, just as I’m starting to reach a whole new level of panic.

“Her car’s parked outside,” I point out.

Joss glances around while she thinks. “Maybe… she walked?”

It’s freezing outside, and snowing like crazy, but if she’s pissed, she probably wouldn’t have cared about that.

“I’ll check her room,” Ricky asserts.

“No, I’ve got it.”

After making the correction, my palm slams his chest when he attempts to pass.

There’s hatred rolling off him in waves, and it’s impossible to miss when his gaze slowly rises from where my hand just landed on his chest. He meets my stare and I’ll be damned if I bend on this shit. Whether he likes it or not, if either of us is going down that hallway to Southside’s bedroom, it’s me.

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