Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(17)

CHAPTER 12


WHITE




Fuck. I think I messed up. Kayla's ignoring me. There's one sure way to know when a woman is mad at you and that's when she keeps telling you she's fine. If I hear that she's fine one more time, I might go insane. She's been avoiding me all week and now it's Saturday night. She wasn't at her apartment, so I'm pretty sure I know where the hell she is. I need to paddle her ass. The problem is, the more I think about doing that, the more my mind wanders, and the more I think of Kayla in ways I never have before—in ways I shouldn't. This morning, that was all too clear because I dreamed about her all night. If I don't get a grip on myself here, I'm going to end up ruining our friendship. That can't happen. Kayla is one of the few people in my life besides my family that I don't think I could survive without. I need to back the hell up and get my head on straight—which might be easier if I would quit jacking off every morning in the shower to the memory of her ass in my hands.

I don't know what's going on with me. I thought it was just a matter of getting laid. I haven't even managed to do that. Last night, I turned a woman away who would have given me exactly what I wanted: sex with no strings. One thought of Kayla's beautiful smile and there was just no interest there. My damn cock has been hard all week, except for when I needed him the most.

I pull into Barney's, scoping the parking lot immediately for Kayla's brown Kia Sorento. The place is pretty crowded tonight, so it takes a bit. For the first time in my life, I start to feel real panic, all because I can't find her car anywhere. She knows I'd look for her, so chances are, she picked another bar. Since we're in Dallas, that leaves only a couple hundred or more possible locations. There's no way I can find her. What the f*ck am I going to do?

I reach for my cellphone, pull up my texts, and pray Kayla stops being so stubborn.

"Where are you?"

She doesn’t text back, so I try one last Hail Mary and call her, praying she answers.

“What?” she answers and relief floods through me, warring with my anger.

“I asked where you were,” I remind her. She doesn’t answer, and I barely resist throwing the damn phone. "Kayla you either tell me now, or so help me, I'll hunt you down and when I find you, you won't like what I do to you."

I’ve never been one to panic, but I might be close right now. I’m having visions of Kayla meeting a serial killer and being hacked into little pieces. The thought of anyone hurting her, making her cry, or touching her in any way terrifies me. My heart is about to beat out of my chest and that's just from my imagination. Shit. I should have just tied her ass up so this didn't happen.

Preferably to my bed… without clothes… ass up…

I tear my mind away from thoughts of f*cking my best friend yet again, and let out a sigh of relief when she finally answers. Kind of.

"Why? Are you going to threaten to paddle my ass again?"

"It won't be a threat. Where the hell are you?"

"Drinking."

"Kayla, I'm warning you."

"I'm fine, White. I don't need a father. I had two of those and neither one was worth much. I'm not in the market for another one."

"Tell me where you are right now."

"I'm sitting at a bar having a drink. I've had several. In fact, I'm getting ready to have another one. I'll talk to you later."

"Damn it, Kayla. Tell me now or you'll regret it."

She doesn't answer. In fact, she hangs up. I cuss for a good five minutes and feel pretty f*cking useless. Then I decide to do something I have no right to do. It doesn't stop me. I scroll through the names on my phone, tap one of them, and wait as it rings.

"You know it's going to be a bad day when the brother you never hear from calls you," answers Black.

"Fuck you. You know you love me."

"Whatever. How is my older brother the football star doing?"

"You do realize there’s not that many years between us, right?"

"Sure. But I am much wiser. Oh the things I’ve learned through the years…"

"Like how to tie your shoes?"

"Very funny. Seriously, how's your shoulder healing up? Mom said they put you off the team for another six weeks."

"It's healing up. The owner is just being cautious," I half lie. The truth is, even working out, I feel a weakness in it that I'm starting to worry won't leave.

"You should have them try one of those new cryogenic chambers everyone is talking about."

"Cryo-what?"

"Apparently they make you a human ice man and it’s supposed to promote healing and generate recovery time."

"And freeze my ass off at the same time?"

"Well, everything has drawbacks."

"I'll look into it, maybe if I get desperate. Right now I've got a bigger problem."

"Shit. Who did you murder?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Generally speaking, whenever someone I know calls the cops and says they have a big problem, it has to do with murder."

"Sure it does."

"Not kidding. Smaller problems are a speeding or parking ticket, but big? Yeah, that's when I start wondering where the hell I need to run."