Page 99 of Filthy Little Pretties
A loud smack is partnered with a squeal, and I’m sure he just swatted her ass. My fist hits the brick with such force, over and over, that my knuckles start to immediately swell, but I don’t feel any pain. I can’t feel anything in comparison to what she’s just done to me.
“Hey, Van. You forgot something.”
Liam calls out to her, and I push away from the brick to look again. I can’t see him, but her smile is enough to ensure their fate. She walks back toward the stairs, and I lose her, but I can hear Liam.
“Kiss me right here.”
Silence.
“Hey.” Her voice is so quiet I can barely make out what she says until I hear, “Don’t tell Grey, okay. I want to wait for the right time.”
“As always, anything for you.”
Donovan
IDIG INSIDE MY BAG, producing my cell, as Liam’s borrowed limo pulls away and heads back to my building. My fingers fly over the keys to make my call. As soon as the ringing sounds, I hit Speaker and wait for an answer.
“Kennedy residence.”
“Vic. It’s me. Do me a favor?”
I’m still rummaging through my bag for my lip gloss as he answers.
“Yes, miss.”
Got it.I pluck the top off and run my finger over it, reapplying since it’s all gone after eating this morning.
“Would you pull a new uniform for me? I stupidly drenched myself in coffee this morning when I brought those super-delish pastries to Liam’s. Be warned, he’s obsessed—you have a superfan. Words like ‘crave’ were used.”
A rare chuckle from Vic has my smile growing. He graciously offered to help me with my peace offering to Liam this morning, and I love him for it. Seems we’ve come a long way. Although Liam was the more reasonable one of the two guys on Sunday, I wanted to make sure I buttered him up, because the news I was delivering wasn’t exactly going to be welcomed with a smile.
I put myself in a vulnerable position last night, and if I could rewind and go back, I would. But I can’t, and I knew the guys would be mad as hell if they heard whatever kind of nonsense that I’m sure Paul is already spreading. Future sociopaths typically work on their craft in high school, and Paul is the classic, entitled Upper East Side model. I only wish Grey was speaking to me, so I didn’t have to ask Liam to keep his mouth shut. But timing is everything with something like this.
Vic’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Are you heading this way now?”
“Yes, right around the corner.” I smile into the phone.
“It will be laid out on your bed, miss.”
“Thank you.”
Three classes and I haven’t even seen Grey. When he didn’t show for first period, Liam texted him, but no answer. Everything feels off, and I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is coming. Maybe it’s all the shit that happened at the club that’s making me paranoid, but with each hour that passes without Grey, my worry’s growing.
I feel uneasy, like I can’t rest on the inside. I need Grey.Damn.
Me: Please stop ignoring me. We need to talk. You’re being a fucking child.
No bubbles. Grey’s not even reading the messages. My hand shoots up, surprising the teacher, but I hurry out my need to use the ladies’ room just as he nods in my direction. Standing, I pluck my bag from the floor and rush out into the empty hall. My finger hovers over Grey’s number as I stare at the screen. What if this is really what he threatened—to be done with me? Maybe he was telling the truth and I’ve lost him.
But I can’t. I won’t survive that reality. Everything will be fine. I just need to talk to him.
The bell rings, startling me, and my lashes blink, dragging me back into the present as I click the phone, making the screen go dark. Kids filter into the halls, pushing past me, but I’m on autopilot as I walk to the cafeteria. The gold handle on the heavy wooden dining hall door feels cold as I place my hand on it and pull, letting in the symphony of laughter and conversations that fill the room.
My eyes immediately search out our table as I enter, hoping I’ll see the familiar expanse of shoulders that always make me bite my lip. But there’s nothing. Damn you, Grey McCallister. Where are you?
I make my way over to the buffet and grab a tray, looking for something to ease the grumble in my stomach, but it’s not hunger that’s making me feel queasy. A shoulder brushes mine, and I look up into sweet green eyes attached to the beautiful boy looking back.
Liam grins at me, placing a small kiss atop my forehead. “The sushi is ripe. I’d stay away. Unless you feel like taking risks.”
