Page 28

Crew

W as I supposed to try to comfort her? I didn’t think I’d ever felt so awkward than I did when she walked in earlier on the verge of tears.

I had no idea what Bobby did, but it must’ve been hurtful enough if it made Dakota Darling cry.

I’d been starting to think that girl had no emotions besides pleasure in other people’s pain and just straight up rage.

She came home over an hour ago, and I’d been awkwardly and impatiently waiting for Bridget to get home so that I could send her to Kota’s room immediately.

I heard her crying for a few minutes before an alarm went off, and since then, there’d only been silence coming from her room.

There had been a few times where I almost knocked on her door to check on her before reminding myself that even though we’d been coexisting lately, that I was still her least favorite person on the planet and probably the last person she wanted to see right now.

Where the hell was Bridget? Also, where the fuck was Lane?

The realization made me stiffen for a moment like a sandcastle before it crumbled.

They were probably together. Actually, fuck that. They were definitely together.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Who knew when they were coming home?

I was about to snatch my phone off the table and send Lane a frustrated text when there was a light bang on the door. I stared at it with confusion before trekking over.

The second I had the door opened, I stiffened once again.

Bobby looked up at me with hopeful eyes, almost relieved that I’d been the one to answer the door. “Hey, is Kota here?”

I leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. “Why?”

Stress was flickering in his eyes as he shifted his weight back and forth. He gulped. “I need to talk to her.”

I stared at him intently, my gaze hitting him like a dart landing on a bullseye. I was assuming he had come here to fix whatever shitty mistake he’d made, and I wasn’t sure how Kota felt or if she actually did want to talk to him, but either way, I wasn’t a fan of how he made her feel earlier. The thought of anyone messing with her besides me didn’t sit right with me.

“No,” I said.

His expression turned dazed, looking like a puzzle piece out of place. “She’s not here?”

“No, she is,” I casually said.

His tone grew sharper. “Then can I talk to her?”

“No,” I repeated.

Bobby sighed, dropping his head. When he glanced back up at me, it was with softer eyes, an almost hurt gleam swimming behind them. “Look, I really need to fix things, and—”

“Fuck off, Bobby,” I said, slamming the door in his face.