Page 109 of Chokehold
I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands as I hear, “Call me Cole.”
Then there’s slurping and gagging and Allie moaning. “Choke me, Cole. Fuck my throat, Cole. I’m your whore, Cole.”
I cut it off, refusing to hear or see anymore. My chest is tight, and I think I might be sick. Swiping off the video, I exit the folder, and plug his phone back on charge while I hurry to dress.
I won’t fucking cry, no matter how much my eyes are burning. He doesn’t deserve my emotions. What the fuck? What the fucking fuck?
The bathroom door opens, hot steam instantly hitting me as Blaise walks out, rubbing a towel into his wet hair, another towel around his waist.
“What’s wrong?” He must notice the way I’m dying a slow and heart-breaking death.
I manage to shake my head and swallow a lump threatening to suffocate me. Shaking it again, I pull on my shirt. “I need to go to see Samson about something.”
“You want me to come?”
“No,” I say a bit too quickly. “I mean, it’s about our coursework. He’s in the same class as me.”
Blaise tilts his head. “You’re pale. Did your dad call you?”
I shake my head, nearly vomiting all over the place with how ill I feel. “I’ll catch up with you later?”
I try to pass him, and he grabs my chin, stopping me. “Do you promise you’re okay?”
His touch feels like poison on my skin as I nod once. His eyes search my face, his brows furrowing. “I think we should talk to our parents tonight.”
Fuck. Just fucking let me go. Let me leave before I pass out.
Blaise presses his lips to mine, and the weak part of me allows him to kiss me. My blunt nails dig into his collarbone as he nips my bottom lip and pulls back.
As soon as I get out of the room, before the door closes, I hear three words from the guy I thought I knew.
“I love you.”
My heart completely shatters.
Cole is gone. I don’t think much of it at first, but when he fails to respond to my third message, my stomach churns with unease. I can’t put my finger on the emotion. It’s eating me up from the inside, like a parasitic invader.
Toxic thoughts whisper,‘Something is wrong.’
Seated on my bed with my elbows on my knees and the phone in my hand, I stare at the screen. Stare and fucking stare.
Unread.
Why won’t the two ticks turn blue? Where the hell is he? I think back to this morning when I exited the shower. He looked spooked, pale as a ghost. Something is wrong. I knew it then. I sure as hell know it now. His silence drives the feeling home further, a nail in the coffin.
I shoot to my feet and pace the room. Rain splatters on the window to my left, but I barely notice the soothing sound. My heart is thudding too hard. I want to crawl out of my skin or climb the fucking walls. Where is he? Is he with Samson?
Chewing on my thumbnail, I bring up Cole’s number and try to call him again. It rings and rings and fucking rings. I’m trembling by the time I lower the phone before tossing it on thebed and pulling at my hair. My scalp prickles, but the sharp pain does little to soothe this raging storm.
Why won’t he talk to me?
Fuck this. I can’t wait around all day to hear from him. I’ll go insane, tormented by my destructive thoughts until I’m rocking in a corner, ready to be shipped off in a straitjacket.
Snatching up my phone and my jacket, I exit the house. The drive to Tiago’s is a blur. The wipersswish, swish, swish.My thoughts are a jumble of fucked up, and by the time I pull up in Tiago’s driveway, I’m sure I’ve aged ten years.
Cutting the engine, I stare out the windshield. Tiago’s five-year-old sister waves at me on the porch, her dark piggy tails swaying in the wind, her flowery red dress whirling around her ankles. She calls me her ‘superhéroe.’ It’s nice to be a hero in someone’s story.
My smile is weak when I exit the car and shut the door. The little girl runs down the steps, and I swoop her up in my arms and spin her around like I always do before setting her on her feet and patting her little head. I’m cold in many ways, but it would take a heart of stone not to smile around Lucía. “Run back inside. It’s raining.”
