I stepped out of the bathroom the same time Garner stepped out of a bedroom.
I smirked. “Your dick’s almost out, bud. You and the Codester have a fight?” I propped a shoulder against the doorframe, now wanting to enjoy this. It was obvious my best friend was anguished about some shit, but my two cents, he should always be anguished when dealing with his ball-and-chain.
Tysan Coda and I did not get along. Never had.
We hated each other, but Aiden loved her since eighth grade. He told me to shut my trap about her in sophomore year, so when I saw the chance to go in on the bitch, hell yes. I wasn’t missing this chance. “What happened? She lay into you about something?”
This happened, and I’d get to listen to him bitch about her for two days before he’d disappear for a fuckfest. He could bitch about her, but he was still quiet, not looking at me, so who was I not to keep going?
“What? She kick you out because you wouldn’t give her a gas card or some shit like that?”
“Fuck,” he whispered, still staring at the wall in front of him.
Alarm flickered in me, and I straightened from the doorframe.
The party was still raging beneath us, and the bass was almost pounding through the floorboards, but when I saw people starting up the stairs, I barked, “Go downstairs.”
“Wha—”
I jerked forward. “NOW!”
They scrambled. I recognized one of the girls from our class, but not the friends she was with.
It was obvious The Coda Beast laid some serious shit into my best friend. “Dude.” I leaned forward, then cursed. His eyes were glazed over.
Serious, serious shit.
“What’d the bitch do?”
His head jerked around, blinking, as if seeing me for the first time. “Croux.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Garner.”
“Oh God.” He stepped back, his hands coming up as if trying to ward me off.
What the fuck?
“Dude?” I shook my head. The alarm was off the chain now. That bitch hadn’t just sunk her nails in. She had pulled out his organs. “You going to start communicating through words? You need to get out of here?”
“No.” The word ripped from him and he was shaking his head, more and more. He was looking frenzied, like he needed not only to shit everywhere, but throw up whatever was in his stomach too. Like the hardest workout he’d done, ever in his life. And I trained alongside him, and knew Aiden could throw down if he needed to.
He scrambled, yanking his shirt over his head and grabbing, pulling his pants up.
He glanced at the closed door. “I—” He raked a hand through his hair.
I didn’t want to know where that had just been. Well, fuck. I knew.
“I can’t. Can you—take care of her for me?”
My eyebrows pulled low on that one. “What?”
But he was gone, darting down the stairs.
I could hear shouts a second later, but fuck, man.
What the hell?
Take care of her for him?
I opened the door.
