Jaded (Jaded #1)(33)

“Tap out, bitch.” Corrigan growled, but giggled at the end. This made me giggle.

We hadn’t wrestled like this for years. This was the kid that I had befriended so many years ago. This was the real Corrigan behind all of his walls that I sometimes forgot were there.

All of the sudden, I felt my throat choke and I blinked back some tears.

I scrambled to my feet and started to walk away quickly. Horrified.

“What—Sheldon!” Corrigan called after me as he jogged to catch up. When he saw my tears, he fell silent beside me.

He looked away. I looked the other way.

When we entered the mall’s food court, Corrigan cleared his throat and looked slightly embarrassed.

“What?” I asked forcibly, my voice hoarse.

He looked away again. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought that he looked panicked.

“What?” I said again and was grateful that my voice sounded more normal.

He stuffed his hands inside his jeans, hunched his shoulders, and asked in a quiet voice, almost too quiet for me to catch, “Are you…I mean…never mind.”

“I’m good. Don’t worry,” I murmured quickly and bumped my shoulder to his.

A grateful smile spread over his face and he bumped back. From there a short arm wrestling match ensued and it ended with Corrigan getting another piggy-back ride in the mall.

We walked around for an hour. I modeled some lingerie to his wolf whistles. He tried on some flannel pants to my suggestive comments about the crotch-flap. Even though the modeling had started as a joke, Corrigan bought a pair of flannel pants because of ‘easy access.’

The clerk had given us both a knowing and slightly disapproving look, which

Corrigan had loved.

From there, he brought some smoothies and we ended our mall tour in the tattoo parlor. Corrigan already had two tattoos and was considering a dragon design for the back of his left leg.

I briefly considered a tramp stamp, but decided against it. Even with all my hype, I wanted to get a tattoo when it meant something.

We left the mall, stopped at a place for sub sandwiches, and headed to my house.

Just as Corrigan turned into my driveway, we both heard a sudden pop and the car swerved. Corrigan cursed and slammed on the brakes. He was out of the car in the next instant and I followed to hear him cursing some more.

He kicked a tire and spat out, “A flat.”

“How?” I asked and glanced at my driveway.

My eyes found some spikes with steel-pointed edges that had been laid across my driveway.

“What the hell?” I asked as I knelt for a closer look. They were attached to a cord.

Each end had been clamped down by some steel rods that were used to secure tents into the ground.

Just then we heard a squeal of tires and a truck roared past us. As they passed, the window opened and a brick was thrown at us. It smashed into Corrigan’s back windshield. After it peeled around the corner and the engine sound faded, I didn’t have to look at Corrigan. I already knew he was furious. When Corrigan was livid, he was silent.

When he was pissed, he cursed, complained, and threatened.

Corrigan was silent.

“Do you know—” I managed out before he cut me off.

“Yerling,” He spat harshly and cursed savagely. “Yerling.”

He fell silent again.

I sighed and pulled up the rods that had been stuck into the ground. I rolled up the cord with all the spikes and stood there. Corrigan hadn’t moved. His jaw clenched every now and then.

We stood there for awhile before I started his car and moved it to the side.

When I got back out, Corrigan must’ve clamped enough control over his fury because he opened his trunk and changed his tire. He threw his old one into the trunk and grabbed the keys from my hand. He peeled out of my driveway without a goodbye.

CHAPTER TEN

I sighed as I walked towards my house. I already knew Corrigan would get revenge. He was the joker, the player, but he also had a temper and a penchant for ending up in jail. I figured I should make a trip to the bank, just in case I got another phone call asking for bail in the middle of the night.

When I entered my house, I walked through the garage to make sure my cars were all fine and left untouched.

They were.

Yerling hadn’t broken into my garage. If he had broken into my house, the alarm would’ve sounded and my phone would’ve rang with a police report.

As I passed the front entrance into the kitchen, I noticed something on the ground.

Another note.

You didn’t take the first note serious. It wasn’t a warning. Adhere the grave circumstances if this note is thrown to the side as well.

To the trash it went.

I grabbed a can of soda and got into my car. The first stop was the bank, just in case. I withdrew two grand because I never knew what would happen with Corrigan. His bail had been a thousand one time and three hundred another time. Judging from his fury, I didn’t think he would be content just trashing Yerling’s car.

When I pulled into the Café Diner’s parking lot, I saw that Bryce’s car was there.

He sat at the same booth in the back section. Chet, Holster, and Evan Harris sat with him.

Becky Lew sat at a different table, across from theirs. The guys seemed to be ignoring the girls, while the girls were pissed that their flirting wasn’t getting them attention.