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“How did you know?” I ask.
“What?”
I don’t know why she bothers to pretend she has no idea what I’m asking about. She’s probably just buying time to make up some lie she won’t need but just in case.
“About Billie and…Bianco,” I say, disgust very distinct in my voice. Images of Billie on her knees in front of the fucker force me to shake my head again.
“Are you on something? Why do you keep shaking your head?” she chuckles.
“Just answer the question, Ozy. Come on.”
“You know Sam can’t keep shit from me. Why you even ask is beyond me.”
“Bianco is fucking sick. He’ssick, Ozy. I hope you’ve been staying far away from him.”
“Bianco has always liked young girls,” she replies. Her gaze is lost somewhere to my side, smoke coming out of her mouth, twirling in the air like the thoughts in her head.
I don’t know where she’s gone but my stomach twists in pain. I feel sick not knowing what happened between the bastard and her. Imagination is sometimes worse than the truth. I can only hope.
“Ozy,” I snap my fingers in front of her eyes to bring her back. Her gaze refocuses as she looks at me. “Tell me you’ve been staying far from him.”
She slowly shakes her head at me. “What fucking planet have you been on? Do you think I would ever willingly chill with the guy? And don’t worry, Nate makes sure of that at least.”
I know she’s done with this topic, so I change it for her.
“Did Sam ever spill?” I ask.
She already knows what I mean.
“Fuck no. That one I couldn’t get out of him. He’s been hiding you very well,” she chuckles.
There’s a brief pause where we look at each other. We can’t be separated for too long. It doesn’t matter how much we bicker, argue, or even physically fight sometimes. We’re two halves of the same person and I know being without me was just as hard as it was for me to be without her.
I take her in my arms again and she lets me. For years we were the exact same height, it’s only after my teenage growth spurt that I got about three inches on her. She hates it. She likes being taller than most guys. Even if in our group she’s only taller than Luke.
I hold her so tight and I hear her breath leave her lungs. I’m dangerously possessive of the ones I love. That’s the problem with us, Whites. It’s almost unfortunate to be loved by us because we become toxically controlling, too selfish to share, overprotective.
I don’t know why I’m like this, I just know that whatever happens, whoever comes into our lives, she’ll always have my shoulder to rest her head on.
“I can’t believe you were in L.A. all this time,” she says, her voice slightly muffled by my shoulder. “You could have said something.”
“I would have if I was allowed to. I was trying to figure a way out. I swear,” I admit.
“And how did that go?” she snorts mockingly.
“Well, I’m back here, that’s one thing.” I run my hand up and down her back as I talk, and fear grabs my gut at how prominent her bones have become.
I pull away and hold her at arm’s length. “I’m back now. No more letting yourself go, Ozy. I’m serious. You need to get your shit together.”
“Fucking hell,” she groans. “Go back.”
“I’m not getting off your back until you become a little more than a sack of bones.”
“Do you and Chris take the same course to be total pains in my ass?”
“Look at yourself, Billie would have fucked you up if she really wanted to.”
“I doubt that,” she replies confidently.
