Page 68

CHAPTER

FORTY-NINE

CORTLAND

I can’t stop thinking about you.

My baby

I’m hard to forget.

I roll my eyes, sitting at the kitchen table, thinking about dropping Remi off yesterday evening.

I wanted her here with me, but she needed to talk to Sloane.

Then Brinklin let me know Chase still isn’t back on campus, I haven’t heard shit from Maya even though I’ve seen her at every game. I have a bad feeling about all of it.

After Remi forced me to listen to every Dermot fucking Kennedy song under the sun on the drive back and sitting idling in her parking lot, I let her go.

I don’t give much of a fuck anymore what she does or doesn’t tell Sloane, but Chase doesn’t know where her dorm is. He knows where my house is. It’s safer for now if she isn’t here.

That ass is hard to forget.

My baby

So I’ve heard.

I press my knuckles to my mouth, smiling despite myself. Come on, Rems, give me something. She’s so fucking feisty, hard and soft all at once… I think I’m falling in love with her.

You wanna know something, baby?

Tell me.

I think you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger.

“Why are you smiling to yourself like you just learned how to suck your own dick?” Storm’s voice pops my bubble and I put my phone down, flipping it over on the table as I look up and see him sink down into the chair across from me, his hair a mess, he’s got on a black zip-up hoodie.

I lean back in my own chair, cross my arms. My game is tomorrow, but Remi has to meet with her stepdad, and after all I know about that fucker, I don’t like that.

But he’s her stepdad.

It’s just a dinner. I can’t exactly stop her from going and I can’t miss the game. Besides, Dad wants to see me afterward.

“Chase is here,” Storm says casually when I don’t answer him, like it’s no big deal.

I sit up straighter, watch him watching me. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

He shrugs, and as he opens his mouth to speak, there’s a knock on the door. I tense, darting my eyes down the hall. “Did you invite him here?” I snarl, my hands clenched into fists, resting on my arms.

He stands, stretching, his hoodie riding up and exposing his tattoos. “Does anyone invite Chase anywhere?” He pulls down his hoodie, goes to get the door as my pulse pounds too fast in my chest.

I hear Chase’s voice, his footsteps down the hall, Storm closing the door after him.

And when he comes into my kitchen in a pink golf shirt with slicked back blond hair that’s irritating to look at, I have no idea how he was ever one of us.

Brinklin and him had lived in West River’s school district since they were fucking born.

I guess that’s how.

And when Brinklin and Storm became friends, Chase was just there. Then I was the new kid, and it wasn’t really my place to say who was part of the pack.

Now, though, as he sinks into a chair between me and Storm, I just want to rip his throat out.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, thinking of him taking his phone out when Maya was blackmailing me. “And where the fuck have you been?” No messages, no phone calls. I don’t particularly want to talk to him, but it seems odd, him having fallen off the face of the fucking planet.

Storm says nothing, just keeps staring at Chase as his eyes flit between mine and my best friend’s, his hands on the knees of his khaki pants.

“I’m catching your game tomorrow,” he says with a wide smile.

“You wanna suck Cort’s dick, Chase?” Storm asks quietly, one arm slung around the back of his chair, his fist on the table. “That why you can’t stay away now?”

Chase laughs easily enough, but he shifts in his seat, looking at me. “Actually, I want your ex to suck my dick, and I thought I’d make sure that’s cool with you.”

I’ve got my palms resting on the table as I stare at him and tell him the truth. “You already did without asking for my permission, and I don’t care what the hell you do with Maya.” I shrug. “Have at it, man.”

“I didn’t mean to go after your girl but she hit me up that night before the semester started,” he shrugs, his lips pressed together for a second, “and we got to talking. Then you ditched her.”

He furrows his brow like something is fucking confusing before he continues. “Anyway, one thing led to another and I’m coming to the game for you, but I’m also taking her out afterward.”

“Such a gentleman,” Storm says quietly. “A date. How quaint.”

I roll my eyes, but Chase keeps his on me. “You sure you cool with that?” he presses.

I nod once. “Yep.”

Chase blinks. “Really?” He doesn’t sound skeptical though, despite his question. Just like he wants me to argue with him. “I mean, I know back at West, you two had a spat, but?—”

“You know we broke up,” I cut in, rising to his fucking bait. I try to keep my tone even, take a few deep breaths like Dr. Ravi taught me.

“But you got back together,” Chase adds unhelpfully.

I nod, running my tongue over my teeth. “Yeah, we did. After the charges.”

Chase smiles. This is what he really wants to talk about. “Yeah,” he says, unable to hide that fucking grin. “After the charges.”

Storm is quiet, just watching our exchange, but I’m very aware of his presence across the table from me.

“Good PR,” I tell Chase, watching him closely. “Having my ex stick up for us like that.”

Chase leans back in his chair, his gaze hooded as he looks thoughtful, down at the table. “Yeah,” he says, sighing, “she was a fucking champ.” Those words come out with a bite that makes me tense. Then he adds, “But we didn’t really need her to.”

I tense, hands curled into fists on the table. “Why’s that?”

He shrugs, looking up at me. “We didn’t hurt Remi, Cortland.”

I sit up straighter, my heart pounding too hard in my chest as I try to breathe. Hearing him say it like that, so fucking cavalier, I don’t know… it just makes me want to see his blood splashed all over my goddamn kitchen floor.

I remember Dad hanging deer when we were growing up, out in a little shed beside the house, the innards falling out as he hung them by the head, a little different than some of his friends did.

He said it was better that way, so everything didn’t get caught up in the chest cavity.

My mom called the shed a “piece of shit,” and paid someone to bulldoze it down when Dad was on the road, so that didn’t last long.

But imagining Chase strung up by his fucking head, blood spilling down his body… yeah, I could do that right here, the shed be damned. I think I even have some rope in my truck.

I contemplate Storm’s words. About seeing a corpse. I think he was just fucking around, but now I glance at him, wondering if I want to see one too.

He arches a brow but says nothing.

I start thinking about that night again.

Remi’s tears.

“You know that, right?” Chase presses, bringing me back to this moment when he’s alive and whole and still fucking running his mouth.

I scrub my hand over the back of my neck, trying to act casual before I drop it back down to my lap. “Whatever makes you sleep better at night, buddy.”

His entire posture changes. He sits up a little taller, his spine rigid, his eyes narrowed, that playful, cocky smirk gone.

“You’re saying we did do what she said we did to her?

” he questions me, his tone low. “Because I think I recall you asking her if she wanted me to stop.” The corners of his mouth pull up into a cruel smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “And you remember what she said?”

My jaw hurts the way I’m gritting my teeth so hard, and it takes all my fucking effort to stay in my seat. This is why I play football. To get energy out. So I don’t fucking snap. If I didn’t have an outlet, I might’ve killed my mom a hundred times over by now.

And Chase too.

“She didn’t say a fucking thing .” Chase smiles at that, like him taking advantage of my girl is one of his fondest memories. “In fact, damn, Cortland, I know you got to make her bleed first but?—”

I stand to my feet before I even realize what I’m doing, the chair legs scraping against the hardwoods.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” I think about the rifles at Dad’s place.

Guns he had to fight with Mom to keep, but he couldn’t quite let go of all the hobbies she’d tried to strip from him.

In the end, when their arguments got really heated, I think Mom might have actually been worried he was going to shoot her.

I kind of wish he had.

And now, I’ve got that gun in my truck, and I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind pulling the trigger, aiming it at Chase’s head.

Chase holds up both hands, but he doesn’t get up.

“Woah, just calm down, Cort.” He pulls his brows together in a mock show of concern before he drops his hands flat to the table.

“This isn’t like you. Has something got you all riled up?

” Another twitch of his lips, like he’s trying to fight back a smile.

“Chase,” Storm says softly, still seated. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Cortland here has gotten a bit of a temper since that night.”

Chase turns to stare at Storm as he gives him the same warning he gave Maya, but I keep staring at Chase.

“And he’s kinda… volatile. I’d be careful what you say to him. In his own fucking house.”

“We all agreed we were gonna stay away from her,” Chase butts in, his temper coming out to play. But there’s desperation in his words, too, and I wonder why he’s so fucking concerned about this. Is it really his reputation he’s worried about?

“We didn’t agree on shit, Chase. And what I do in my free time is none of your fucking concern.”

“I disagree, Cort.” For the first time, I see his hands turn to fists at his side, knuckles on the table as he leans closer to it. To me. “You’re fucking with our futures here. Mine. Yours. Brinklin’s. Storm’s.”

Storm laughs softly. “I’m a dealer. I think my future is already fucked.” He says those words with venom, and Chase glances at him, but then turns back to me.

He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath that pink fucking polo.

“You don’t think the news isn’t gonna have a field day if they see the girl who accused us of rape is fucking you?

” He points a finger my way and I want to break it.

“You don’t think that’s gonna reflect poorly on us? ”

“I don’t much give a damn how it reflects on you, Chase, if I’m being honest.”

He drops his hand, and his mouth opens. Then he laughs, shaking his head. After several tense moments, his fingertips grazing the table, he finally speaks again. “You know who your mom’s biggest client is, Cortland?”

“I don’t give a fuck about?—”

His eyes narrow, but he’s smiling as he cuts me off. “It’s my parents. Dad’s the head of the insurance division at the warehouse. He contracts out work to your mom’s firm. And you know what else?” His smile widens. “He’s best friends with the senior partner at your mom’s place.”

“Like I said,” I’m having trouble not lunging across the table, “I don’t give a fuck about my mom’s job.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing you might give a fuck about.”

I hold my breath, body tense. But there’s nothing he could sway me with. Not money. Not this fucking house. Nothing. I’ll pack my shit, drop out of school and move back to WV, work for my uncle again before I let Chase McGowan dangle shit in front of me.

“My dad is pretty well-respected in Ellicottville. This whole side of the fucking state. And if he supported your mom’s word that your dad was a neglectful parent—always on the road, never able to get enough food in the house because he put his work before his kid?—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I step around the table, toward him, and like a pussy, he backs up. “Don’t you dare bring my brother into this,” I warn him, taking another step. “He has nothing to do with your paranoid bullshit.”

He takes another step back, but he doesn’t shut the fuck up and leave. “None of that’s going to happen,” he says quickly, glancing at my fists by my side. “As long as you let Remi Ocean live in peace , Cort.”

“Get out of my house right now, Chase, or you won’t have a chance to.”

He dips his chin, eyes wide. “Are you threatening me over a fucking whore you already had?”

I close the space between us and shove him against the wall, his shirt in my fist, my fingers around his fucking throat. He reaches for me, but I knock his head back, and he stills, real fear in his eyes for the first time.

“Get out of my house,” I tell him, my nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of his cologne. “Or I’ll kill you.” I tighten my fingers around his throat. “It’s not a threat, Chase. It’s a fucking promise.”

I release him, stepping back, into Storm, who’s standing behind me. He puts his hand on my shoulder, but his next words aren’t for me.

“I don’t have a future, Chase,” he says quietly.

“And I don’t have a brother, any family you can threaten me with.

I don’t have much of anything to lose, buddy.

” His fingers dig into my shoulder as he keeps talking to Chase, whose hand is at his throat, rubbing where I choked him.

“That’s a little scary, huh? For you.” Storm drags me back, jerking his chin toward the hall that leads to the door.

“You’re not with us anymore, so this is a very, very dangerous place for you to be in. Get out.”