My heart stops and it’s as if the floor has fallen out from under me. The last person I ever wanted contact with again is my ex best friend from back home. She earned that title when I walked in on her having sex with my boyfriend.

I swallow the bile that starts making its way into my mouth and fight back my anger.

“How did you get my number?”

She hesitates before answering, “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters! Why did you call me?” I ask harshly.

“Am I not allowed to know how you are? Or where you are?” She sounds hurt but I don’t care.

“No! You lost that privilege when you decided to screw Jake!” I snap.

“Huntley I’m –“ I cut her off. Her apology won’t mean anything.

“Cut the shit Taylor, why did you call me?”

“I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else,” she half whispers. My skin prickles and my body stiffens. I can feel the bile rising in my throat again.

When I don’t reply she continues, “I’m…I’m…pregnant,” she pauses, “And it’s Jake’s.”

My heart drops to the floor and it feels like it breaks every rib on the way down. I want to vomit. My body starts trembling and an audible sob escapes before I can stop it. I can’t believe it. She told me they stopped seeing each other after I caught them, not that it mattered to me. I was done with both of them the minute I walked into his bedroom.

I gather the bit of strength I have left, gripping my phone until I can feel the plastic cover cutting into my skin. “Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. Again. You. Whore!” I shriek.

“Huntley wait –“

“No!! Fuck you Taylor!! I hate you!! And Jake!!” I manage to yell through my sobs. I hear her jagged inhalation but don’t give her the chance to say anything more. “And Taylor, be careful he doesn’t push you down the stairs!!”

I end the call and collapse onto my carpet, my throat painfully raw from shouting. I feel broken all over again, like I’ve just walked in on them. The betrayal and pain comes flooding back, a relentless onslaught of memories I desperately wanted to forget. Taylor would no doubt be confused by my warning; she didn’t know what Jake was really capable of and I didn’t care to tell her. I would keep those dark secrets to myself.

Before I can think twice I call Demi. When she answers I sob hysterically, my words coming out in rushed, incoherent mumbles. I hear her say she’s on her way and disconnect. Somehow I manage to drag myself to my room, but crumple just short of the bed. I curl into a ball as sobs rattle my body and succumb to the pain and the inevitable darkness.

I pray that someone will make it stop, take it away. I can’t go through this again.

It hurts too damn much.

Chapter 9

~ Grayson ~

“What is with you tonight bro? Did someone piss in your beer?” I roll my eyes at Brody. He definitely doesn’t have any tact. We sit at the bar, watching Nicky’s fill up with students like it does every Thursday night. Drinks are on special and it’s open mic night, a disastrous combination if you ask me. It makes people brave, and stupid, enough to venture on stage in their drunken stupor and belt out a really bad rendition of some clichéd country song. Normally I would laugh at them, remembering how badly behaved Brody and I were in freshman year, but tonight I’m not in the mood.

I’m still beating myself up after the encounter with Huntley in the locker room a few hours ago. How could I be so stupid? I was about ready to rip her clothes off and then, for whatever sardonic reason, sense returned. I hated the look on her face when I pulled away and I hated myself more for putting it there, but I was playing with fire. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to kiss her or worse. Do more than just kiss her. It took me three cold showers to calm down after she left but it didn’t make me feel like less of an asshole.

“If you don’t quit hounding me I might just piss in YOUR beer bro,” I bite back. When I say I’m not in the mood I’m not lying. Fortunately, he’s the only one who knows how to deal with me when I’m like this. “You gonna tell me what’s got your balls in a knot or must I play ‘I Spy’ and guess for myself?” he asks, eyeing me over his beer bottle. I think about it carefully, wondering if I should tell him what he most likely already knows. I decide to see if he was smart as he thinks he is. “Ok fine, I’ll guess,” he taps his finger on his chin in an exaggerated movement and finishes the last of his beer. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with H and ending in untley.” Like I said, he already knows. I look at him but still don’t say anything. “Yeah,” he sighs, “I thought so.” His expression isn’t mocking. It’s filled with understanding and sympathy.

“I was a total asshole,” I mutter, not quite sure if he heard me.

“Didn’t take you long,” he replies, “What happened?”

I tell him everything, starting with how she walked in and caught me by surprise, in nothing but a towel, and ending with how she practically ran out like her life depended on it. “I feel like I’ve been losing my mind ever since I met her,” I add. He looks down at his empty beer bottle, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. That’s how I know he’s thinking and I won’t like what he’s about to say. “Look Gray –“ he stops short when his phone starts ringing. He frowns at the number and then answers, “Hey Dem –“

I see the look on his face change from confusion to concern and back to confusion. Why is Demi calling him? The fact that she even has his number makes no sense considering they can’t stand each other.

“Yeah he’s here. Why?” Brody answers and looks at me. Why would she be looking for me? Sure, Demi and I have been friends since kindergarten, our families are pretty close, but why not phone me instead of Brody? The thought makes me pull my phone out.

What the fuck?

Six missed calls and four text messages. How did I not hear my damn phone?

“Ok, you need to calm the fuck down Demetria! Don’t yell at me woman!” he yells into the phone. Seconds pass and he yells again, “Yeah, alright, we’re on our way! No need to get your panties in a twist!”

Judging by his tone he’s pissed. And I’m confused. What the fuck is going on?

He ends the call, pulling out a few dollar bills and throwing them on the counter. “Grayson, we have to go. Now.” He starts for the door and I jump up to follow him. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?” I yell to his back, trying to speak over the loud music. He doesn’t respond until we’re in my truck.

“Drive to Huntley’s apartment building.”

“What’s wrong Brody?” I sound panicked.

“Look, Demi said Huntley won’t answer the door but she called Demi earlier, sounding like something was really wrong. Demi said she sounded hysterical on the phone but couldn’t make out what she was saying because she was crying so hard. Demi’s there now trying to get Huntley to open the door but there’s no sound coming from the apartment. She’s freaking out, wanting to know what you did to upset Huntley so badly.” He brushes his hand through his hair, letting out an exacerbated sigh.