I can’t stop talking and I can’t stop the emotion tumbling out of me either. “I’ve loved him since we were ten years old and we kissed each other for the first time.” Shaking my head with disbelief, I run a hand through my hair, tugging roughly. “We pretended it never happened, then he kissed me again after Maxim died and I pushed him away.”
“You need to calm down, you’re working yourself up and you don’t know if he’s not okay.”
The ball inside me, needing the tears, it clogs my throat. Pain festers there too, begging me to let go, so I do. I start to cry, and I’m not even sure how long it has built up, but my body racks with sobs as Jordan holds me.
“I love him,” I admit. “I always have.”
He rubs circles on my back soothingly and I’m not even sure how he’s handling this. If any of them cried like this, I’d run far away. Dealing with emotions has never been my strong suit, and I’m grateful Ridge and Colt are busy with Mortem and not here witnessing it.
Telling Colt there’s a possibility that Ross is dead would destroy her, not knowing if Ten is okay would only worsen her fear. Hell, the fact that we don’t even know if the twins are safe bothers me.
Where are they?
Where’s Mel?
Who were the two brutes?
Why was Ross in the comms room?
What the fuck is happening?
After I let it out, coming to the realization that I’m in love with my best friend when it can very well be too late, I suck in a breath and my phone chirps.
I’m heading out. Where the fuck do I go?
Ten’s text is classic Tennison Dellamore. He’s definitely the odd one of the bunch, but that’s what makes him so charming. How is he so calm? He doesn’t even know if Ross is okay.
Calling him instead of letting him text and drive, he answers. “Where the fuck am I running off to?”
“We don’t even know the address or coordinates to where we are, but I’m going to find out.”
“What do I do for now?”
“Head toward Vegas,” I hedge, knowing we’re in Nevada, especially since I remember flying over the Hoover Dam.
“Okay, call me as soon as you know. Service will be touchy going through the canyons,” he reminds me, and I nod as if he can see me.
“Call me if you hear from Ross.” Somehow, I keep the panic and sadness from my voice, not hoping for more than answers.
If they were the League—Bridger’s side of the Vestige—Ross will never be found. They’ll dispose of his body immediately.
“Will do, talk to you soon.” He pauses and right before I go to say goodbye, he stops me. “And, Lennox?” he asks rhetorically. “We need to fucking talk.”
“I bet we do,” I admit, and he hangs up without so much as a goodbye.
Jordan kisses my forehead, distracting me from our current dilemma. Hell, Colt freaking the fuck out twenty minutes prior is pretty important too.
“Do you ever wish we could go back to when we were kids and build better trust?” I ask hesitantly, wanting to know if he thinks of our childhood before he was taken.
“We’d probably have some hellish orgies,” he quips, and it breaks my panic and I laugh.
“What’s saying we won’t when all is fixed?” I prompt, seeing his head working.
“Are you saying you’re not opposed to it?” His eyebrows raise with his question and I smirk. I’ll be honest, I’ve searched gang bangs and orgies since hooking up with Colt and Jordan.
“Not at all,” I answer, thinking of the one where the girl was on her knees and all these guys were jerking off as she held out her tongue, waiting for them to paint her with their cum. Somehow, even when emotions are high, my dick hardens. “I’d definitely be down for a fuckfest where everyone participates,” I reaffirm my answer.
He smiles widely. “I wouldn’t mind watching you rail Ross,” he admits, and my mind goes crazy on scenarios where I fuck my guys and they fuck Colt. Jordan grips my jaw, rotating my head toward him. “But I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”
It makes me chuckle how serious he is about that. The only other person I could see myself switching for is Justice, and even then, I really fucking hate that guy.
Or maybe Ross. That’s not off the table.
“What about Colt?” I ask, thinking of our time in the pool. His eyes widen mischievously.
“I might be down to watch her peg you. Maybe I’ll fuck her while she does it.”
My balls tighten with each suggestion, then cold water rushes through my veins when I stop fantasizing and think of Colt leaving with Bridger, and to top it off, Ross and the possibility that he’s not okay.
Chapter Thirteen
Colt
“So, they taught me that we’re basically gods amongst humans,” I explain, thinking of all I’d learned at the Edgington Estate. After Bridger literally obliterated my guts, I fell asleep. He carried me to his room and held me while I slept. Now, we’re in Mortem’s office and Bridger is taunting me with his stare.
Mortem peers at me with intrigue, bringing me back to his questioning. I’m not sure if it’s directed at what I’ve just said or if it runs deeper, like the fact that he’s my father and I’m confused at why he waited so long to reach out.
“That’s a lie,” Bridger comments and coughs over it like kids do at school. Rolling my eyes in his direction, I redirect.
“Why did they create this society and why does it matter?”
Dad—which feels funny just thinking it—places his elbows on his desk, amusement lacing his features all while he stays silent.
“Yes, Death Note, pray tell.”
That does me in and I’m laughing at the comment. His name literally is an elongated name for death in Latin. But the fact that Bridger’s naming him after an anime character he probably doesn’t know is funnier.
“When the Grims—our family—came to Arcadia, they were the first. Well, along with the Marchettis. Basically, Lewis Grim and Toby Marchetti explored this area, settling where there were no people.”
“So, are we colonizers too?” I jab, but really, I mean it. With our privilege and advantages for centuries, it’s not exactly a reach. Americans are the worst, even if they came from all parts of the world.
“Yes and no. We’d already surpassed that time frame, so yes, but this land truly had no one living here. I’m sure it was the cold and lack of soil production,” he explains. He sits back in his chair, crossing his leg. I readjust to folding my legs in my lap, feeling the handmarks Bridger left with each movement. While I stare at him, my only hope is that he doesn’t lie.