Page 76 of All Jacked Up

Shakespeare: A date. Her boyfriend’s best friend. Lucky me.

I read that three times while the thoughts in my head grew more violent with each second. She was on a date. At a fucking club at two in the morning. Did she like him? Was she going to see him again? Had he kissed her?

I realized my phone was trembling in my hands, and I stood up, suddenly feeling restless. I wanted to demand answers to my questions, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for them.

What if she did like him?

What if she fucked him tonight?

Rage erupted in my chest, and I let out an angry snarl. No. Noa wouldn’t fuck some guy she’d just met. She wasn’t like that.

Shakespeare: Why are you awake?

I let out a sadistic-sounding laugh.

Me: Couldn’t sleep.

I punched the phone so damn hard that I was surprised it hadn’t cracked the screen.

Dots appeared, and then they stopped. I stared at the screen, waiting, and nothing. What was she doing? Was he talking to her? Touching her? Smelling her?

My phone was airborne before I knew it, and I was taking hard, fast breaths as I stared at it, lying on the floor across the room, where I’d thrown it. I wanted to do more than throw my phone. I wanted to put furniture through the wall. Roar with all the shit welling inside me. Find some relief from whatever monster had woken up and taken over my body.

“Uh, dude, you good?”

I swung my glare over to Forge, who had come in the room with his eyes squinting against the light, wearing nothing but boxer briefs.

“Yes!” I snarled.

“Yeah, okay … well, could you be good a little quieter?”

The text sound went off on my phone, and I all but fucking ran over to snatch it up.

Shakespeare: We are leaving. Jellie wants greasy pizza, so we are heading to some all-night place she loves. I hope you get some sleep.Good night.

They were going to get pizza. The image of some unknown man touching her back, leading her out of the club like she was his, only added to the beast that I realized was jealousy. I’d never felt it before. Not over a female. And it had never felt like this. But right now, I’d kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands.

“Should I get Bane up? Are we about to go on an outing?”

I continued to glare down at my phone and shook my head.

“No. Just me.”

“We don’t go kill alone,” he said, then yawned. “And the way you look right now, some fucker is about to die.”

“No. At least not tonight,” I replied.

“If that’s so, where the fuck are you going?” he called out just before I left the room, headed for the garage where my truck was parked.

“Boston.”

“Boston?” he asked, as if he’d never heard of it before. “What the fuck is in Boston?”

“Not your business. Go back to bed,” I snapped.

I was going to have to answer to Linc for this. I’d send him a text when I got to the airstrip. He’d just have to get the fuck over it.

Twenty-Seven

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