Stealing from the Bad Boy [completed]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"What? Of course he doesn't have it," Rosie says.

"Rose it's gone."

"What? But how. He..."

"He broke into my house the other night. That's what set off the alarm."

"What? When did this happen," Rosie sounded really concerned.

"When I went out with..."

"Who?" Rosie says after I stay silent.

It all clicked into my head like a jigsaw puzzle, piece after piece and now I could see the whole picture. "Nightfire."

"Huh?" She says still confused.

"No wonder he knew where I lived, he dropped me right at the driveway without me telling him," at this point I was just talking to myself and Rosie happened to be listening.

"Who?"

"Cameron!"

"Wait so Cameron stole the stick when you went out on your date Nightfire, how could he have known when?"

"I don't know."

"But how did he break into your room, he doesn't know where you..." she pauses. "Shit. I am so sorry girl," she elongates 'so'.

"What?"

"Max. That's why he was asking all those questions bout you."

I through my head back onto my pillows. "Holy fuck, I can't believe he broke into my house."

"Honey, to be fair, you did the same thing."

"Yeah but it doesn't count because I didn't steal anything."

"That's not exactly how that works. Listen Nat, you need to rest. Call me in the morning, I got some yelling to do at Max."

"I'm sorry I made you do that."

"It's what friends are for," she sounded a little sad

...

At 2:28 I got a message come through my phone that woke me up. It was from some random number.

Hart u awake. we need to talk.

I had no idea who it was from.

Who is this?

At first I thought it might be Andrew, texting about why he didn't show up the other day.

Tanner

Tanner? As in Cameron?

Wtf Cameron???

I had so much I wanted to rant at him about, mainly about BREAKING INTO MY ROOM AND STEALING FROM MY SAFE.

Before you yell hold on got something to say.

I waited. Mainly out of curiosity, if I yelled at him straight away I wouldn't know what he wanted to say.

INCOMING CALL FROM PRIVATE NUMBER

What the hell. Accept.

"Hi," I waited. "Cameron?"

"No," he elongates. "It's Freddie Blac." Of course he would say that.

"We need to-"

"What do you want?" I say over him with a croaky morning voice.

"Meet tomorrow," he seems annoyed.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I need your help and you can punch me. I know you know I took it."

That snake. It's 2:30 in the morning and he sounds so god damn masculine I could close my eyes and be in a Cary Grant movie listening to the legend himself.

"That sounds amazing." I emphasized imagining punching him.

"So you'll meet with me tomorrow?"

"Ew," I scrunched up my face. "No."

He waited a moment. "You know, I can call your parents that you broke into my house."

"No way," I laughed. "You wouldn't." My face had a smile but it soon turned serious. He had made a threat like that before in year 8. Cameron called my dad and told him I poured liquid detergent into his bag, even though Cameron did it to me first and I was getting back at him, my father overlooked that fact and grounded me for the fortnight.

"Oh I would." I didn't say anything in return, I didn't want to provoke it. Liquid detergent isn't a crime. Secretly breaking into someone's house is however, especially when I have the intent to steal.

"You know I'm not actually going to, right?" He said a bit softer after I hadn't countered.

"Yeah, yeah I know." I was still worried. I could imagine my father's face. Oh my god I'm going to be sick. 'Must get to toilet,' I think.

Kneeling beside the bowl my phone on the floor to my side, I lift up my hair and it all comes out. My father is a lawyer. A prosecutor to be exact, meaning he literally sends people to jail.

I take a step back away and flush. My back slides against the cold tiles and the sides of my pyjamas are lifted up. Deep breath in, hold, and out.

After a moment of deep breathing the mumbling in the back of my head gets louder, and it starts making siren noises.

"Shut up Cameron!" I say out loud. It stops. A quiet mumble follows the pause. "What?" I hold up the phone to my ear.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," I smile a disgusting vomit filled smile. Moments pass by as my breaths become calmer.

"I would never call your dad," he waited. "I could never do that to you."

I didn't feel like talking but I kept the phone pressed against my ear. I walked into the bathroom and began running the water. He must have heard it. "You good?"

"Mhm," I nod and grab a toothbrush.

I put the phone on speaker, not so he can hear me but I can hear him. After I finished cleaning my teeth, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and listened to Cameron's voice.

He went on about movie trivia, he knew I was listening although I didn't acknowledge it. He started talking about the Shawshank Redemption when I started walking back to bed. "In the book he's actually Irish. So when Morgan Freeman says 'maybe it's 'cause I'm Irish' that's why."

"Mhm," I replied and hop back under my sheets.

"You're falling asleep aren't you Hart?"

"Yeah," still on speaker phone.

"Will you meet me tomorrow?"

"Yep." I say anything to make him let me sleep. A moment goes by, drifting between sleep and reality, I hear something that I couldn't tell if it was real or not.

"I love you Natalie."