Page 90 of Dirty Roulette
Everything inside my body goes numb and dark. I can’t drown my emotions anymore. My back pocket buzzes again, and I pull out my phone and this time I answer.
Chapter thirty-two
Ryder
The highway is barren with a few patrol cars passing. Then there are the drunks swerving into my lane and cutting me off. Within fifteen minutes, I’m outside a venue that looks sketchy as fuck, screaming danger.
Graffiti is painted everywhere, and the lawn is overgrown. Cars are sprawled throughout the parking lot and people move about outside, smoking and drinking. I crack open the window and fight with an empty lighter until it ignites another joint. The taste of burning newspaper meets the roof of my mouth before inhaling pure green.
I text Payton again, and she still fails to write back and leaves me on read. I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder. She’s somewhere in that venue with a band pretending they’re Metallica. I’m seconds away from dragging her out. The phone rings three times before it’s cut off and disconnected.
My palms sweat. This is the last time I’m going to play nice. The phone is slippery in my hands as I dial her again. The only one wanting to answer me is her goddamn voicemail.
“Fucking freshmen!” I holler into the phone and chuck the joint out the window. I want to march up there, fight the security, and break in. I swear, freshmen are all narcissistic parasites who are disconnected from reality. Okay, that’s not fair.But damn it, Payt.I dial again, my blood hammering.
“Hey, you...” Payton says as if she’s curling her index finger around her hair like a preppy brat.
“Can we talk?” I ask. The beat of my heart pounds in my neck. The drums and guitar make my ears bleed. “It’s loud. Are you at a concert?” I act stupid and stare at a group of people walking out the entrance.
“Why? Not like anyone cares... Charlie made it clear you hate me too, and guess what, I’m the biggest slut on campus now.” She slurs and something is off with her tone of voice. None of what she says is true. I’m always pissed at her, but there is no way I can hate her and what I feel is completely the opposite.
“Is Charlie there?”
“Yeah... but who cares.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yeah... guess who else is here?” She asks.
“Who?”
“Brody.” She slurs the words.
Then she hangs up. Something feels off. I can’t shake off the shivers crawling up my spine. Brody at a metal concert is way out of character.
I didn’t join the football team to become one of his slaves, and I’m through with him. I’m done. So done with his drinking, picking out the weak girls at parties, and filling their cups before leading them to bed.He’sdone.
I’m convinced the world is a stage, and I’m the show. Brody, sits back with a bag of popcorn to watch my life fall apart.
I might as well rip off the mask and stop pretending I like the guy for the world to think we are teammates. I toss my phone to the passenger seat and step into the gravel. The door slams behind me. I’m heavy like my shoes are made of metal.
“You need a ticket, man. It’s ten...” a guy says right at the entrance. I dig out my wallet, throwing him two fives. He slaps a wristband on me as Payton bursts out the front door and curls over the railing. Splatters and heaving overpower the metal band.
“God, you’re like the fifth person yo!” the ticket guy gags and walks off.
I curse under my breath.
“Where is she?” I stumble over, pulling hair away from her cheeks. She swivels around with tears soaking her lashes. Mascara pools down her face, and she points a shaky finger to the door. Her eyes flutter as she slumps to the concrete.
“Payton!” I drop with her and pat her on the cheeks. Gurgling ruptures from her throat, and immediately she vomits again.
“Payton!” I hold back her hair, shaking her to wake up and focus. “Where is she?” I ask.
Her eyes flicker open for a second, and she mumbles. “He took her to the bathroom... he...he.” Chills crawl down my back and my stomach roils, not from her vomit, but from what she said.
“Can you walk to my Jeep?” I dig through my pockets, pulling out the keys and point my finger at it in the distance. “Lock the doors. Don’t move.”
I’m barely breathing, vomit stains my jeans, and I’m drowning in a sea that’s not even there. She fists the keys and she nods.
