Page 67 of His Every Move

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’ve got some serious fucking issues, man. I don’t like Eli, sure. He’s fucking annoying, always acting so goddamn perfect. But calling in a bomb threat? Hell fuck no.”

My jaw clenched, frustration mounting. Damon was clearly a dick, but his denial felt genuine. If he was lying, he was doing a damn good job.

“Go ahead,” Damon continued, pulling out his phone and shoving it toward me. “Check the timestamp. Check my stream history. I’ve got receipts, asshole.”

I snatched the phone from his hand and scrolled quickly, confirming exactly what Damon claimed. The time stamps matched. He’d been online, streaming, exactly when the bomb threat was called in.

Damon wasn’t Nomad. I’d gotten it wrong again.

“Fuck,” I muttered, handing him back his phone.

“Yeah, exactly. Fuck off.” Damon rose sharply and stormed off, leaving me sitting alone, feeling more lost than ever.

My phone buzzed. My heart leapt briefly before sinking again.

Not Eli.

A notification from a liquor store offering me a discount on tequila. Perfect.

I sat there for a long time, letting the dread and disappointment wash over me like an oil slick. I went from feeling on top of the world to being crushed by it.

At some point in the haze, I stood up and walked to the nearest subway station, body on autopilot.

I had one singular goal in mind.

Back at my apartment, I skipped the glass entirely, opening the tequila and chugging straight from the bottle. It burned beautifully, numbing everything inside of me. I collapsed onto my couch, the room already spinning. Eli’s eyes haunted me, the betrayal in his gaze slicing deeper than any blade could.

I’d failed him. Again.

The bottle clinked loudly as I set it down. I stared at the ceiling until it blurred, from tears or from the tequila, I wasn’t entirely sure.

I’d let him down. I’d ruined everything we were building together. I was the one person he felt he could trust. This rift—I never intended it. Never saw it coming.

Lucky leapt onto the couch. He curled into my side, rested his head on my lap.

Tomorrow, I’d figure something out. Tomorrow, I’d try to win Eli back.

Tonight, I’d sink into the black.

Chapter24

Elijah Grant

Zack satacross from me inside the packed dive bar. I had texted him a couple hours earlier, not wanting to be stuck inside my apartment any longer. He showed up late and looking pretty stressed, blaming a brutal week of exams.

“Thanks for even showing up,” I said, grateful I could at least count on my best friend to help me feel normal.

“I’m here whenever you need me.”

It had been a week since Benji’s revelation, and I was still so fucking shaken over it.

He’d been watching me? He manipulated me? He fucking lied to me…

So then why the fuck did I miss him so much? I couldn’t make sense of my emotions. One side of me pulled far, far away from Benji, and the other side of me wanted to be back in his bed, curled up next to him, talking about random bullshit, laughing about dumb jokes, and having some of the best damn sex of my life.

It didn’t make any sense. Logically I should have deleted his number and blocked him and moved on with my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Not only that, but there was still the fact that Nomad was out there, and Benji had been the only one who’d really taken the threat seriously.

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