Page 71 of Things I Wish I Said
Cameron drops his hands, sliding them into his pockets. “I don’t know what you think anymore, man, but if you’re not with her, I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m interested.”
“You don’t even know her.” I scoff.
“I know enough to know I’m interested,” he shoots back.
“Where is she?” I grind out.
I don’t want to entertain the idea of him with her, just like I don’t want to entertain why I’m so opposed to the idea.
With a sigh, Cameron turns and walks a few steps before motioning to a lounge chair. “She’s right over . . .”
His expression slackens as he glances around us. “She was over here. I just went to tell Trent we were leaving.”
“You lost her?” I have zero right to be pissed when I was the one to abandon her in the first place, but I need someone to take my frustration out on, and he’s the easiest target.
“Seriously?” he snaps. “You’re mad at me? I’m not the one who left her.”
I should be pissed at him calling me out, but I’m not because it’s true . . . and because something inside the house beyond where he’s standing catches my eye.
My gaze focuses over his shoulder into the house where I spy Sinclair, crouched down in front of someone on the ground. Another girl?
The hell?
I start for the door as Cameron calls out behind me, but I’m too focused on whatever I’m seeing inside Kip’s house to answer.
Ryleigh straightens, bringing the girl with her as recognition hits me square in the chest. It’s Bridgette—Dustin’s girlfriend.
My mouth goes dry as I note blood trickling from the skin below her eye, and then I see him. Dustin.
He steps closer to Ry as she straightens her shoulders, like she’s squaring off against him with Bridgette at her back.
Fear curdles my blood as I realize what she’s doing—blocking him from Bridgette.
My feet move, taking the wide expanse of the yard in several large strides.
I reach the French doors and wrench them open. She’s saying something to him. I know because I can see her mouth moving, but I can hear nothing over the roaring in my ears.
I step inside at the same time Dustin lunges for Bridgette, but Ry blocks him. He grabs her arm, squeezes, and Ryleigh cries out.
“Get the fuck off her!” I roar.
Turning, Dustin releases her, a sneer curling his lips. “The mouthy bitch is yours, De Leon? Tell your stupid cunt of a girlfriend to mind her own fucking business.”
“What did you say?” I seethe.
My vision turns red. Adrenaline joins the blood in my veins preparing for a fight as I step closer. “Apologize. Now.”
Dustin tips his head back and roars with laughter. “You’re kidding.”
I reach Ry’s side, my heart beating out of my chest. “Not even a little.”
“Maybe you should keep your hands off women!” Ryleigh screams. “How 'bout that, you fucking prick!”
I glance between them, my gaze lingering over Bridgette’s busted eye and the red splotches on Ryleigh’s arm from where he grabbed her.
“You did that to her?” I nod toward Bridgette, trying hard to keep my calm.
If it were anyone else, I’d have beaten the shit out of him already. He’d have lost his head for even looking cross-eyed at Ryleigh, let alone touching her.
