Page 6 of Red Zone
Can’t really decide which one would be worse.
Weaving through the throng of people, a couple girls give me a little wave. I smirk and send them a wink as I pass, causing them to start giggling.
Women.
I fucking love women.
Not just in the obvious, yeah-they’re-hot kind of way—though, let’s be real, they are. Every curve, every smirk, every eye roll when they catch you looking too long? Chef’s kiss. I’m not blind. I appreciate the view.
But it’s more than that.
It’s the power they carry without even trying. The kind that doesn’t need to yell to be heard. That quiet confidence, the way they walk into a room and change the temperature without lifting a finger.
Have you ever seen someone command attention with nothing but a look? That’s not something you can fake.
Name something else that’s drop-dead gorgeous, sharp as hell, and could destroy you with a single sentence…
I’ll wait.
Women are storms dressed in lip gloss. Hurricanes in heels. Velvet-wrapped danger. And maybe I’ve spent a good part of my life chasing that chaos, trying to hold on to it for a night, just to feel something real—something alive.
But the truth?
You don’t own that kind of power.
You survive it.
“Carter.” I turn to find Madison, her voice tight with forced casualness. “Let’s go upstairs.”
She grabs my hand and starts walking toward the staircase, so I follow. I don’t say anything until we’ve made it into my room, shutting the door behind me.
Plopping down on my bed, I get right down to business. “What the hell happened between you and Jaxon?”
Madison stands there, fidgeting like she always does if you ask any type of personal question.
“Nothing happened. I told you; we grew up together.”
“Bullshit. I’ve never seen you react to anyone like that. And the way he looks at you…that isn’t just some old friend from school.”
“It’s a long story.” She sits down beside me on the bed. I sprawl out, making myself comfortable for the long conversation ahead. Damn, my bed is some kind of comfortable today.
“Looks like we’ve got nothing but time. Start spilling.”
“I was eight when my mom got sick. By twelve, she was gone. My dad…he couldn’t handle it. Started drinking, staying out late. Some nights he wouldn’t come home at all.”
“That’s rough.” I can’t stop the frown that takes over my face. I knew Madison had been through some shit, but damn.
“Jaxon lived down the street. His mom practically raised me after mine died. I remember hiding in his closet during the worst storms. Not just weather storms, but the ones at home too—when my dad would come back drunk, breaking things, screaming at ghosts. In those moments, Jaxon was the one who wrapped me in silly jokes to break the tension and let me breathe again.”
All right, so maybe Madison and I had even more in common than just needing something to take the edge off last year. Fuck.
“He was my best friend for fifteen years. Since we were toddlers, basically. We were inseparable.” Her voice startstrembling a bit, and if I didn’t know her any better, I’d think she was about to cry.
Stifling a yawn, I shift around so that my head is resting on my hands, stretching my legs that are still just a little sore. “Then what? You just went your separate ways, and that was it?”
“I was supposed to go to Michigan State with Jax. We had it all planned out since freshman year of high school. Same dorm, same schedule if we could manage it.”
Well, that explains Jaxon’s truth or dare question.
