Page 65 of That Girl is Trouble

Me: She said you told her you’d be sleeping here tonight. And I don’t fucking see you.

Silence.

Last thing I want is to be responsible for Kat’s well-being, but Triss called me ten minutes ago, confirming with me that Kat was sleeping here tonight. In her old bed. I know for a fact she’s not here, which means I’m supposed to do something about it. Because I’m keeping her out of trouble. Trouble is exactly what she’s gonna be in when I find her. Getting out of bed to deal with Kat’s shit when I gotta be up at dawn isn’t how I planned for my night to go.

Me: You want to find out what happens when I come looking for you?

Three dots jump at the bottom of my screen as I wait for her answer, anger already prickling at my neck, a tingle already working its way to my palm. I flex my hand.

Kat: I’m just having a little fun.

Me: What kind of fun?

Kat: The kind I’m supposed to be having. I’m getting drunk in the woods.

Me: You better be joking.

Kat: Don’t parent me. I get enough of that shit from Graves.

Me: What is this? You looking for attention? Not getting enough hugs at home?

Kat: Why does everyone always ask me that? It’s like therapy all over again.

Me: Because the last time I saw you, you were offering up your pussy to half the club.

Kat: No. The last time you saw me, I had your dick in my mouth.

I chuck my phone at my couch.

Fucking woman.

Those thoughts I keep trying to push out are immediately pummelling into my brain. Kat. Wet. Naked. Coming on my showerhead. Tits pressed tight to my chest. Her nails biting into my shoulder as her whole fucking body shook against mine.

My phone vibrates loudly on the couch cushion, and another flush of irritation heats my blood when her name flashes across my screen.

Kat: Think you can figure out where I am? Three guesses. We can play a game.

Me: No games, Kitty. But keep acting like a little brat, and I’ll throw you over my knee and make you sorry.

Kat: Shouldn’t tempt me like that. I’m a little drunk.

Drunk. Image after image flips through my head. Kat. Sloppy and stumbling. Some fuck groping her in a dark forest. Her like she was in my shower. On her knees. And not for me.

When I get my fucking hands on her—

Kat: Hint #1. There are trees here. Lots of them.

I’ve lived in South Bay all my life, and the one thing I know for sure? Things don’t change here. Kids still go to the same place they did fifteen years ago when they wanna get fucked up.

Cursing, I grab my jacket and keys and stalk to my bike. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Maybe it’s Kat giving me another useless hint, but I don’t look at it.

I know exactly where I’m going.

It’s what I’ll do when I fucking find her that I’m still working out.

I rip across town, slowing as I turn onto Old Burwash Road towards Bailey Bridge. Road used to be the main way into town, but once they four-laned the highway and most of the farmland around here was left abandoned, this road all but ceased to exist. City doesn’t do much upkeep, no life for miles, and unless they’re coming out here looking for trouble or a party, people steer clear to avoid the deep potholes and cracked pavement.

Not tonight though. The road leading to the bridge is lined with cars. I kill my bike, and in the silence that quickly falls around me, the distant sounds of laughter ring out from the dense forest. Teenagers. College kids home for the summer. The town degenerates looking for a fix. It’s where they all come.

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