When We Meet Again

Chapter 41| Drama and Pity Friends

Tasha wouldn't answer my calls and I couldn't find Sharon anywhere.

Some friends night out this was going to be.

I opened and closed random doors in search of Sharon. So far, I'd interrupted three couples in various states of undress-seriously, did people just not lock doors anymore?, burst in on a chugging contest, declined a beer pong relay and greeted two empty bedrooms. Was it my fault Alex had five billion bedrooms?

For God's sake, did heads of state make regular visits or something?

By then, I had wandered past the rooms that had been close to the stairway that led downstairs and deep inside the maze that the George's second floor consisted off.

I entered a corridor that had been cordoned off from the rest of the bedrooms. I was pretty much lost-and was beyond annoyed. What if Sharon had left?

I ring her again. And suddenly, Charlie Puth's 'Attention' began playing from somewhere close by.

I bent low and strained my ears to find the source. It seemed to be coming from one of the last two bedrooms at the end of the corridor. I walked all the way there; listening to the song.

Damn it, which door?

And then my phone stopped ringing.

What on earth was she doing in there? Kidnapped? Muffled and being raped? Tied up?

BDSM, Bee? Didn't think you were into that.

I shut him out and unlocked my phone to ring her again.

"You can't talk to Landon." said a voice. "Ever."

I squealed and whirled around. The carpet had muffled the sound of his footsteps. I hadn't even heard him come up.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"You heard what I said."

"Yes, I did. And I don't see how it's any of your business." I retort, anger rising.

"You're kidding right? He's not the kind of guy you should talk to." I felt his gaze burn through my exposed skin. Something got stuck in my throat. No, no Hailey, no. "And with what you're wearing..."

I felt exposed. I felt like he'd ripped every stitch of clothing off of me and humiliated me. " If I want to talk to Lan, I will. If I want to date him, I will. If I want to have sex with him, I will. Every, single, night." my voice was low, dangerous. "Do you hear me? I will do whatever I want. You have no right-no say in anything I do."

Max looked a little surprised. He hadn't expected to lash out at him like that. I smiled, although I'm shaking inside. His eyes rake over me again and steps closer.

I stand my ground.

"You're not allowed to wear that," he whispered, looking a little confused. "You're the good girl. Good girls don't dress like-that."

"How stereotypical," I said, my cheeks flamed. "Wasn't just a few months ago you were calling me a-a p-prostitute?" the word feels new on my lips. "Maybe I should start dressing like one. All in the name of looking the part, right?"

Something flickered in his eyes; "Bee-"

"Stop. I revoke your right to call me that. We were never friends remember?" I turned away so he couldn't see me shaking. Instead I open the door of the room in front of me, go in and shut the door in his face.

"Bee, open the bloody door." he said. "I need to talk to you."

The room was pitch black. Ugh. "No."