Page 83 of Inevitable Destruction

He’s staring at the screen with squinted eyes. He must be in a dark room, but the brightness of the screen illuminates his face well enough. I’m shrouded in darkness myself, so I’m glad he can’t make out most of me—though only my nose and up is showing to him.

“You’re alive!” he shouts exuberantly, a bright smile showcasing on his tanned face. His blonde hair is pushed back from his face with a backward hat, and a frown tugs at the corners of my lips. Speaking of… where the fuck is my hat?

“Did I wake you, man?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, already over this shit.

“Shit, sorry. I just—I needed to fucking talk to you, to see you still alive and breathing. I’m worried. I’ve been worried.”

“I know. I’m fine, though. Nothing to worry about.”

“You have black bags under your eyes, and your hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in weeks. You don’t seem fine.” He brings his phone closer to his face until all I can see is his cheekbones, dusted lightly with freckles.

Jay’s attractive—very much so with his straight blonde hair and big, doe brown eyes, golden skin… I fucking hate myself for noticing all of this now. He’s my only friend, and while I can appreciate the way he looks, I know I don’t feel anything for him other than that.

I’m such an asshole.

“Since when the fuck do you pay so much attention to me, Jay?” I ask, genuinely curious. Things used to be uncomplicated and easy between us. We were friends, but now he’s trying to complicate it all like my life isn’t already chaotic.

“You’re my fucking friend. Of course, I pay attention to you.”

“I don’t want your attention, and I don’t fucking need it.”

“Is this about the kiss?” he asks, his voice dropping to a thick whisper. The noise of the party has diminished greatly, though I’m not sure why. Whatever room he’s in now is brighter, and I can see his eyes are glassy and his pupils are dilated.

“No, Jay. I don’t really give a fuck about that.”

“You don’t? ‘Cause it seemed like you did until your body locked up on me.”

“Jesus,” I sigh, exasperated. “I don’t really have the time for this, dude.” I swipe my phone up off the counter, but as I stand, it slips from my numb fingers, falling to the floor. I bend down to pick it up, ignoring the way my body protests, when Jay’s harsh intake of breath startles me.

I hold my phone up, using every last bit of strength I have. “What?”

“For fucking starters,” he breathes out heavily. “You’re naked.” I freeze and brush my hand down to my bare hip. Fuck. How could I just forget I’m naked?

“But more so, why the fuck are you covered in bruises?” I glance down at my torso, coming face to face with the large smattering of hickeys displayed all across my body. Just as I open my mouth to try and explain to Jay, the front door opens, and I come face to face with a soaked and dripping Rhett.

My mouth remains agape as I take in his disheveled appearance. He’s a fucking mess. His clothes are smeared with mud, along with his boots being caked in it—which is only the beginning of the damage.

The worst of it is in his eyes. They’re lifeless—blank—as they stare at me, void of everything that makes Rhett, Rhett.

Or at least, that’s what I think until he opens his mouth.

“What are you doing?” His words are monotonous, but I sense the calamity—the calm before the storm.

This is bad.

“Dom? What’s going on?” Jay’s voice crackles through the tiny speaker on my phone, startling from my reverie. My arm, which had fallen to my side in my state of shock, rises until Jay’s face comes back into view.

“Nothing, but I have to go.”

“No, wait! Please don’t—I’ve been worried. Just talk to me; we can talk about something else.” My phone is pulled gently from my hand, but I part with it willingly. Rhett sets it on the countertop, so the camera is facing the ceiling.

“Dominik is of no concern to you, Mr. Duval. If I were you, I would remember my warning and keep your distance. Wouldn’t want that coach of yours finding out things you would rather he not know.” With that, he presses the red button, effectively ending the call.

Without preamble, his hand darts out, his fingers wrapping around my throat like a vice. “What the fuck are you doing talking to him?”

“He called me,” I choke out, unsure where his animosity is coming from, but if I’m being honest, Rhett never really seems to have a reason for it. It’s just who he is.

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