Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 33

Nate's POV

I unlocked the door to my apartment, frowning down at my phone. I'd texted Ariana, hoping to probe the atmosphere and see how the talk with Kaylah had blown over; ever playing the part of the concerned boyfriend. Instead, I'd hit a wall. I was effectively and quite rudely shut out of a conversation that hadn't even begun by a curt text. Can't talk right now, at pool with Seth and Malik. I'll text later x. Now, she's never been a good liar, and I could feel a shift in her tone towards me. Whatever Kaylah had said, it must've been good.

And then there was the issue of Seth and Malik. She's always just called them "the boys", and I'd gotten used to them being referred to like this. It made them inconsequential, not even bothering to name them. Yet now, she chose to. Like they meant something. I'd never seen Malik as much of a threat; he seemed to always be the outcast anyway, always looking in from the outside, trying to fit in. But Seth somehow always managed to pull a crowd, with a bunch of simple-minded but effective jokes and positively piercing laugh. And he might think no one has noticed, but he's been watching Ari lately, and quite tenderly I'd say. The thought didn't sit well with me, for more than one reason.

I didn't have time to ponder how I'd deal with them before I realised something was off. There were streaks of dried mud on the living room carpet, which abruptly stopped as if someone had thought better of it and had taken their shoes off. I walked into my room cautiously, although I knew Gage was long gone. The gun case had been moved, and the dresser was open. A smile curled on my lips. He'd searched for the photo album. Our photo album. If he thought I would've left it lying around after everything, he really is a fool. I'd burned it to scraps a long time ago. My smile melted as I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar scent. It was faded, but undoubtedly female.

I swallowed down my irritation at his brashness and willed my palms to rest flat against my thighs. Gage had broken the rules by bringing Kaylah here. What Gage and I were playing was a game of cat and mouse, which was between us and us alone; Kaylah had absolutely no business in it.

I grabbed my gun and decided to head to the polygon. I needed to cool off before tonight, or else I wouldn't be able to think straight. And I would have to today more than ever. I looked over at the law books carefully arranged in a neat stack on my living room table and winced. I had frozen my year, and I now regretted the decision.

My father had called earlier, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of answering. When he realized that calling was futile, he sent me a curt text. Found a new case. Bring Declan.

He'd always been an asshole, but I had liked Declan. He was the friend of a friend, which is to say, he was the guy I got my weed from. Punctual, never prying too much, always professional and never very concerned about much. I'm still not sure if that was the weed speaking or if that's simply always been his way. Until my father had gotten to him. He approached him, with a sly smile and a wad of cash, and Declan was too greedy to question anything until it was too late. He became just another case.

My pathetic excuse of a father has never been good at much except wasting money; and making people do the dirty work for him. It started simply enough. A watch, a bracelet, a ring here and there from a stranger. Asking me to steal, lie, smile, bleed.

"And what if I'm done playing your game?"

He gave me a knowing smile, "Then I always know where to find your little boyfriend."

Gage was the only person I had ever refused to steal from, and I regretted it every single day. Because I'd defied my father for someone who'd laughed at me with the first chance he'd had, forgetting me as soon as something better became available. Just like my mother had, when she ran away without any warning with some guy who had it all figured out much better than we did. Old habits die hard, I guess. Of course, my father considered me the sole reason for which mom decided to just up and leave. If you weren't such a freak, she wouldn't have left. Sometimes I wonder if he's right about that.