Wild Ride | Rhea Ripley | Possessive, Fluffy and Smutty

31 | Anything With A Hole

Lauren: Rhea, you don't mean that. Please, just come over and we can talk. You know where I am.

Lauren: Please. Rhea, this is fucking terrible.

Lauren: I don't know how to help you, but I know I can try. I'll try anything.

Lauren: This is killing me.

I didn't send any of those, but I wrote them out, only to delete every single one.

What do I even say to her now? Nothing. I had no bloody idea. She'd be home for sure, and I could easily just go over to her house and talk to her... well, try my best to. But I went back to the park and in my usual spot, but I bloody missed her house. I missed all this time with Luna I've been spending. Time with her. I miss her.

I pulled out my phone, turning over onto my side on my bed. Before I started writing a message out, I reached for the bottle of Gin I found, taking a horrible sip.

Lauren: Are you ok?

I sent that one. Staring at the message for what felt like minutes and then an hour. I didn't realise that I'd actually put a decent dent in that bottle of Gin, and when I sat up, the walls of the RV were spinning.

Fuck, I didn't want to get this drunk. Shit.

I put the Gin away and sloppily got some water to begin inhaling, followed by a pill that I hoped would sober me up a little bit, or at least help me not feel as shit in the morning.

My phone buzzed on the bed and I nearly collapsed trying to grab it, my knees hit the floor, but I got my phone, blinking at the screen and the message until it came clear.

Gunnar 🤏🏼: Sorry about the other night, Loz. I deleted the pics.

Pics? Plural?

I cringed at the message and turned my phone off, reaching for my water again and sipping it.

Then it buzzed again and I dove for it, staring at the screen until it turned from fuzzy to clear.

Gunnar 🤏🏼: I feel shit for what I did. Let's talk? I don't want you gone from the track, anyway.

I rolled my eyes.

Lauren: You destroyed my bike. Took pictures of me sleeping naked. I don't want to talk.

At least half drunk, i still didn't want to be anywhere near this guy. 

Gunnar 🤏🏼: Come on, Loz. I said sorry, I'll help you with Rhea.

My eyebrows creased at the message.

Lauren: What do you mean?

Gunnar 🤏🏼: I know she broke up with you. Tim told me.

What the fuck. Tim? He knew?

I only told Damien? He wouldn't go around and tell everyone would he? No... Was he fucking watching or listening or some shit?

Lauren: Don't talk to me anymore.

Gunnar🤏🏼: Bit late, I'm at your door Loz. Let me in.

I glanced at the door. No way he's here. I didn't even hear his bloody bike.

Nearly falling over as I stood up, I held onto the bench beside me to make my way to the door, where I quickly opened it and groaned when Gunnar was indeed standing there. "Get away." I went to slam the door but he pushed on it, sort of barging his way in.

I swear I nearly fell over, because I held myself up on the counter. I drank so much more than I thought. "I mean it, Gunnar. I'll call the fucking police if you don't leave." I told him, having a hard time focusing on where he shut the door behind him.