“Well, well.” A male voice, somewhat familiar, rises above the quiet chatter throughout the shop. “The traitor has emerged from hiding at last.”
Three members of River’s crew approach us. I’ve spoken to each guy at some point, but only really know the one in the middle. Chance. Or Knuckle Scars, as Ali calls him. He’s been sniffing around Mackenzie Love.
I stand and bump knuckles with him.
He looks from me to Camilla then back again. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. You?”
“Same.”
Camilla adjusts her bag on her shoulder before stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Fingers crossed we never again run into each other, Frosty—that’s your name, right?” She attempts to march out of the store.
The guy on Chance’s right steps into her path. “Where do you think you’re going? Back to Anima?”
I swallow a retort, wondering how she’ll handle the situation.
“Anima has been destroyed.” She raises her chin. “The same fate you’ll suffer if you don’t move out of my way.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m quaking in my boots, princess.”
Without hesitation, she pops him in the nose once, twice, and as he goes down, howling with pain, bleeding, she says, “Oops. My hand slipped.”
I fight a grin. “Both times?”
“The air is slippery.” She steps around Broken Nose.
The other guy helps his friend stand up. “Bitch.”
Camilla’s shoulders square before she exits, letting me know she heard the insult. I also know she left the way she did, pretending to have bumped into me, because she hoped to spare me grief for hanging out with her, and it’s making my chest ache.
“We just left Cole’s,” Chance says, picking up the conversation as if there was never a confrontation with Camilla. “We were surprised you weren’t there.”
“I’m headed there now. See you around.” I slam into the guy who called Camilla a bitch, knocking him down, before chasing after my girl—no, no. Not my girl. My...I don’t know what she is. I only know I would rather be with her than the pricks who just hurt her.
I’m trapped in a freaking day from hell. But the part that sucks the biggest balls? This is a day from hell in a long string of days from hell. And really, one should be indistinguishable from another by now. Somehow, though, this one stands out as the worst yet.
First, I woke up to find Frosty sneaking out. As if I was a one-night stand he couldn’t wait to forget. Then, of course, I ran into Chance, my brother’s best friend—and a former “boyfriend” of mine—as well as Chance’s two younger cousins. Oh, and my personal fave, the Z toxin in my system is causing the nightmares and who knows what other problems.
From now on, I probably need to ask myself one very important question each and every day. Do I want to eat my friends?
I’m not sure how much more bad news I can take.
Frosty catches up to me, grabs me by the wrist and tugs me to his truck. I don’t protest, but I do look around to make sure no one sees us.
As he speeds down the highway, he says, “I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. You didn’t have to pretend we’d only bumped into each other.”
My heart melts. Until he adds, “Besides, they probably know about the vision.”
Right. Because he wouldn’t hang around me for any other reason.
I won’t cry. It’s not like this is news.
“Do you miss your crew?”
I’m not sure I like the way he hammers to the heart of the matter. “I do. As much as a limb.” Seeing the trio had hurt like hell. They might have lost all respect for me, might hate me to my rotten core, but I still love them.
“Your betrayal put them at risk, saved only your brother.”
At least he’s not spitting the words at me. His tone is calm, factual. I rub my Betrayal tattoo—and the compass next to it. A reminder that no matter how lost I am, there’s still a way home. I just have to find it.
Needing a reprieve, I stare out the window. The sky is pretty, baby blue with puffy white clouds. Towering oaks line the side of the road and dot the rolling hills. I’ve lived in Bama all my life, but I’m still awed by the scenery.
“Camilla?”
If I continue to maintain my silence, Frosty will let the subject drop. I know this. Personal conversations aren’t our thing. But I finally say, “At the time, I had tunnel vision. Save River. My eye was on the prize, and I was blind to everything else.”
“I still don’t understand how you did what you did to them...to Ali.”
She’s easier to talk about, so I say, “Before I’d even met her, I knew I had to betray her. I decided to find fault with her, no matter what. A smile meant she was making fun of me. A frown meant she disapproved of me.”
“Seems pretty twisted.”
“It was.” Anytime I felt myself softening toward her, I purposely snipped and snapped at her, creating strife between us. A task my inner bitch enjoyed. “Desperate girls do desperate things.”