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Where the Road Takes Me

Page 35

   


   Then my phone beeped with a text. It was from Will: Your new girlfriend’s looking hot these days, and he’d included a picture of Chloe leaning against a wall. Her eyes were shut, makeup a mess all over her face. She had a bottle of something in her hand, but her grasp was loose, as if she was about to drop it.
   I knew where the party was because everyone at school had been talking about it all week. I got in my car and sped the entire way there.
   The volume of the music increased tenfold when I opened the door. I was already scanning the room for Chloe before I’d even fully stepped inside. “Hunter!” Sophie, Hannah’s best friend, was walking over to me. She plastered her body onto mine and wrapped her arms around my neck. I was trying to pull her off me when I caught sight of a mess of blonde hair and the tiny girl it was attached to.
   She was coming out of the hallway, with one hand resting on the wall next to her, helping to keep her balance. Her head was down as she stumbled into the living room. She took another step, but her ankle twisted from her stupidly high heels. Will was there to catch her fall. And then she raised her head, her eyes half-hooded. She tried to straighten up with Will’s hand on her waist. She curled her arm around his neck and brought his face to hers.
   My gasp was so sharp it surprised even me. The assholes around him cheered while he handed them his beer and pressed her up against the wall—not once breaking apart from their kiss. I wanted to move. I wanted to get him the fuck off her. But my feet were leaden, planted to the floor. His hand on her waist moved lower, past the hem of her short dress and onto her bare thigh. Then he gripped the back of it, pulling her leg up so his dick could get closer to where I was sure he wanted in. Another round of cheers; but they were drowned out by the rushing of blood in my eardrums. He pulled back slightly; whatever he must’ve said to her seemed to deserve high fives and pats on the fucking back. He dropped her leg, grabbed her hand and then led her down the hall.
   Fuck. No.
   I finally pried Sophie’s arms from around my neck and put one foot in front of the other. It was slow, my movements still getting accustomed to their apparent weight. By the time I’d made it to the hallway, every single muscle in my body ached from the tension. But my mind—my mind was clear. I pushed open every door possible, ignoring the screams or “fuck offs” I got when I interrupted something. I didn’t leave until I was sure it wasn’t Chloe in the room. By the time I got to the last door, my rage was all consuming. The door was locked, but I just kicked it down. Will’s mouth was on her breast, and his hand was down her panties.

   Within seconds, I had pulled him off her and punched him twice in the face.
   I wanted to kill him.
   “What the fuck is your problem, Hunter?” He held his now-broken nose between his thumb and fingers. Blood poured from it and down his arm.
   “What the fuck is my problem?” I yelled, yanking my arms away from whoever the fuck was holding me back. “You enjoy taking advantage of girls who are too wasted to know what the fuck is happening?”
   “Fuck you! Get off your fucking pedestal! She’s the one that wanted it. She asked me to come in here!” He accepted the cloth that someone held out for him and placed it on his nose.
   I looked down at the bed, but she wasn’t there. “Chloe,” I breathed out.
   “Dude, that girl left.” I wasn’t there long enough to find out who’d said it.
   I was out of that house faster than I thought possible.
    A surge of relief washed over me when I saw her. She was folded over, with her head in the bushes at the end of the driveway, puking. I stood behind her, holding her hair out of her way.
   “It’s okay, Chloe,” I said, rubbing slow circles on her back.
   She threw up three more times.
   By the time she was done, she was weak and struggling to stay upright. When she finally straightened up—wiping her mouth and lifting her eyes as she did—the expression on her face turned my insides to stone. “What the fuck are you doing, Blake?”
   “Wh—?”
   “You have no right to get in my shit like that. You have no right to burst into rooms, acting like a fucking superhero!”
   “Chloe, you need to calm down. You’re beyond wasted, and you’re talking shit.”
   I grabbed her arm so I could give her a hug and try to soothe her.
   She let me.
   And then she cried into my chest. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
   I started walking us to my car. “I know, Chloe. It’s okay.”
   She apologized four more times on the way to the car and then twice more once we were inside. By the time we got to Josh’s apartment, she’d passed out.
   “What the hell happened?” Josh asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
   “She’s wasted.”
   His eyes rolled so high, I almost wanted to punch him, too. “Okay, Captain Obvious.”
   “What the fuck do you want me to say?”
   “I don’t know, how about . . . how the fuck did she get like that in the first place?” He paused a second and narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you help her get like this?”
   “No! She was like that when I found her.”
   He sighed, and opened the door wider for us. “Put her in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
   Chloe
   A doorknob turned. Footsteps. My eyes snapped open. I was a little groggy, but apart from that, I was fine. No pounding head, no need to puke. “Hey.” Josh was next to the bed, looking down at me with a huge grin on his face. “Morning, Chucky.”
   “Chucky?” I took the glass of water and aspirins from his hands and downed them both.
   “Yeah. You know . . . because of all the times you chucked last night.”
   “Oh.” Heat crept into my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
   He shrugged. “All good. Made me feel like a kid again. Come out when you’re ready. I have someone I want you to meet.” He started to walk out of his room. “I set some clothes at the end of the bed. I didn’t think it was appropriate for me to strip you down and change you last night.”
   “Fair point.”
   “Yeah. And Hunter would probably kick my ass,” he said, before closing the door behind him.
 
   After showering and putting on the sweats and shirt Josh had set out, I made my way to the living room. Tommy was on the floor, playing with blocks, while Josh was in the kitchen. Blake was nowhere to be seen.
   “So you must be the famous Tommy I’ve heard all about.” I got down on my knees and watched as he stacked one block on top of the other. “Josh, how old is Tommy?”