Page 29 of Relapse

I continued to class. I was already late.

My phone vibrated again.

Live a little, babe. I’ll be waiting for you.

My lips curled in frustration. And yet, at the same time my face flushed imagining him saying it—the same word he used before he blew me in the closet. I practically punched in a response.

Stop calling me that. Who do you think you are?

I hated that Silas thought he could call me by whatever pet name he desired. I needed to put an end to this shit quickly. I added another message for good measure.

Do something more constructive with your time, instead of waiting around for me.

I sent it and waited, eyes fixated on the screen, wondering why I hadn’t heard back from Delane yet. Clearly, my phone was working just fine at receiving messages.

The cell hummed against my palm and I didn’t even bother gathering up any hope. I knew who it was.

You’ll come.

“Fuck you,” I said aloud, shoving the cell back into my pocket where it belonged. I wouldn’t bother to answer Silas any longer. The aggravation wasn’t worth the hassle, and Silas couldn’t be beaten at these kinds of games. He lived for this petty back and forth. He got hard on it.

Just as I was about to round the corner into my classroom, the teacher’s assistant crossed in front of me abruptly, stopping my stride with a wave of his hand.

“You good?” he asked with a little frown. Maybe he heard me curse.

“Uh, yes, sir,” I replied with a weak smile. “Just texting my boss.”

I inwardly cringed at that description, but I had to go with something. I’d die before telling Silas I called him that.

He studied me carefully for a moment. “Well then, head in when you’re ready. Lecture has started. We wouldn’t want you to miss the notes.”

I indicated my agreement with a nod. “Yes sir. Thank you.”

I took the liberty to get my ass in the classroom as quickly as I was able to. I couldn’t wrap my head around why Delane was ignoring my messages. She always responded. But now, everything I sent her was left on “delivered” without any explanation.

I punched into the phone, unthinkingly.

I’ll call you after class?

I stood outside, just a brief moment longer, staring at my screen, willing it to light up with her name.

I tried Delane’s number twice after class ended. Each time, the call went straight to her voice mail, as if the phone was turned off. In the backseat of my driver’s car, I restarted my phone, just to see if I was the problem after all. I’d try anything at this point.

I found myself growing increasingly frustrated. Was she ignoring me? Was the other night just her being polite—her way of brushing me off for good? Was that kiss her way of saying goodbye?

I sighed, watching the scenery blur past the car’s tinted window. I was nearly home now, closer to the bar than the estate. Silas’s earlier text replayed in my mind. Why did he want to see me so badly?

Then it hit me. He had to know something. Maybe he knew why Delane seemed so… gone.

And I wouldn’t know a damn thing unless I confronted him.

“Stop,” I ordered the driver.

The man behind the wheel glanced at me through the mirror, but showed no signs of pulling over.

I glared at him. “Hurry up.”

The car glided to a smooth halt, and I swiftly stepped out.