Page 114 of Chokehold
“I am, too,” Ronnie argues.
“Are you his therapist? I have the seat and everything.”
Ronnie blinks, and Tiago sighs tiredly as though the world weighs on his shoulder. He pushes his chair back, rounds the table, and pulls me to my feet. “You’re paying for my medical bill if I end up in hospital.” That’s the only warning I get before he crushes his lips to mine, right there, in the cafeteria for everyone to see.
I’m too shocked to react. I stand frozen for all of two seconds, feeling confused as fuck, before Tiago is pulled off me like he’s a sack of potatoes. Cole shoves him with such force, he crashesinto the nearest table, causing a group of girls to scream. Then he punches him square in the face, and blood sprays everywhere.
Cole breathes like a bull. I don’t remember ever seeing him quite this…provoked. Not even when he picked me up from Jackson’s. Ronnie and Luke fly from the table to help Tiago, but I stay rooted to the ground.
Cole stalks away, and my feet become unglued. I run after him and pull him to a stop in the hallway. “What was that? Why did you punch him?”
“Why do you think?” he asks, pacing on the spot.
“I don’t fucking know.” I’m sarcastic, but I think Cole is too angry to catch on because he glares at me like he wants to incinerate me on the spot. “Okay, fine. Tiago kissed me. It’s not like you care, right? You won’t let me kissyou.”
He sneers, resuming his pacing.
“I’ve tried. Numerous fucking times. I’m paranoid, right? Everything is fine. That’s what you say.” I motion between us. “This isn’t fine, Cole. You won’t let me touch you. You won’t talk to me.” I lower my voice as a student walks by. “I’m not paranoid, Cole.”
The air escapes his lungs as he leans back against the wall. He looks exhausted. His chest expands with a ragged inhale. He stares up at the ceiling, his hands in his pockets.
How do you get someone to talk who doesn’t want to talk?
Instead of trying, I run a hand down my face. I’m tired, too. We’re both fucking tired. “I’m done.”
As I walk away, shoulders hunched, he calls out, “Remember at the beach when you said you’ve done some things you regret?”
I draw to a halt, but don’t turn to face him—not now when my heart is racing.
His voice is closer now, caressing my nape. “What is it that you’ve done?”
The video of Cole fucking Mia after I drugged them flashes before my eyes. And the mask I found under his bed… I can’t tell him. He won’t understand. I’ll lose him for good. Haven’t I already lost him?
Wetting my lips, I reply, “I haven’t done anything for you to worry about.”
“Is that so?”
His whispered words crawl down my spine, and I shiver.
“I’ve told lies, Cole.” I slowly spin around. “We both have.”
Cole flicks his hard eyes between mine.
I round him, walking back toward the cafeteria. “I’m gonna check on my friend.”
Samson passes me the joint while Keith pays the pizza delivery guy and sets all four boxes on the table. We’re all sitting around it, music playing lightly in the background, bottles of beer littered everywhere, with a pack of cards waiting to be dealt.
We’ve been at this for what feels like days, but it’s only been three hours. I came over as soon as I packed enough clothes for the weekend. I couldn’t be in that house with Blaise. I’m so fucking lost and confused about what I’m supposed to do.
One thing my mom always told me was to take a breather before reacting, and since I’ve never taken her advice before, I’m taking it now. I’m having a breather, which also feels like a three-day-long panic attack.
Samson kicks my shin. “Stop zoning out when I’m talking to you.”
I blink and shake my head, taking a draw, filling my lungs with poisonous smoke and handing the joint to Keith. Grabbing the stack of cards, I shuffle them and deal.
“Did you sleep last night?”
I nod and continue dealing, setting aside the rest, and checking my cards without them being able to see. Shitty hand. Shitty day. Shitty week. Shitty fucking emotions.
