Page 54 of Tempt

I let out a frustrated breath, hating that she’s not with me talking through whatever it is she needs to talk through.

“Terrance is gonna be pissed,” I finally say, accepting that things are what they are.

“Why,” Colton sounds like someone stole his best friend and in a way that actually did.

“Because they just stole his girl too.”

“There is gonna be a lot of grumpy fuckers at the sight tomorrow.” I can’t even argue with him, because he is telling the truth.

* * *

Warren holds his hand out toward me. “You have my word,” he assures me. “One step out of line and that asshole is done. I can also promise you that I’m looking into his past instances too, those have not been forgotten. They also weren’t that well investigated, and the evidence wasn’t secured so the chances are slim.”

“I’m just happy that we finally have someone here that will do what they should and not be bought.”

“You had anymore run-ins with the Lowdry’s?”

“Been steering clear of that situation the best I can” Though if the opportunity unfolds you better bet no one will pull me off of him next time.

“They’re laying low,” he assures me with a smile. “Now that the sheriff isn’t in their back pocket. I’m gonna be the biggest pain in their asses, with hopes they’ll eventually get sick of my face and leave Brooklet.”

“Now that’s a plan I’m good with.”

“I better get back on the road, don’t want people thinking I’m already slacking,” he dips his chin and backs up toward the car idling at the curb. “You need anything you call. That goes for your girl too.”

My girl?

The same girl that’s been avoiding me for three days now, always with a new excuse as to why she can’t be here at my place, or me at hers.

“Thanks,” I offer with a wave and then walk back toward my apartment. Once inside I find my phone and dial Kyra’s number. Within seconds of the first ring it goes to voicemail and my jaw ticks with irritation.

“Sent to voicemail,” I hiss, “great.”

Tossing the phone on the couch, it bounces and then hits the floor. Friday night and I'm sitting home, alone, with no fucking beer in the fridge.

This is just great!

I stand with the refrigerator door wide open, looking from one shelf to the other, nothing appeals to me, but I still keep looking.

Noticing in the drawer a familiar cap I open it and find a bottle of whiskey more than half gone.

Pulling it out, I twist the cap and tip it up, accepting the burn as it flows down my throat. My stomach feels the heat, and I shift my neck from side to side, cracking it.

When it starts to take, I lift it once more and down the rest of the bottle. Tossing the now empty Jameson bottle into the trash it clinks against something and sounds like it cracks.

Moving back into the living room I flop down on the couch and pick up the controller, thumping through the channels. I wish more than anything I had more alcohol to drown out the irritation still flowing through me.

Bending over I grab my phone and the first thing I see when it wakes it is Kyra’s number on the screen.

Without thinking I text her.

Me: Answer the phone!

I give it a minute then I dial her once more.

“It’s not a good time,” she doesn't even say hello and part of me panics that she might hang up, so I immediately go at her with a little more aggression than planned.

“You mind telling me why you’re ignoring my calls?”

---