Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 3)
Forever Golden: Chapter 3

WEST

The guys and Joss pull up right behind me when I brake at the curb in front of Southside’s house. I barely even have time to shift into park when a third set of headlights are in the rearview mirror. Glaring, I make out the silhouette of a sleek, blue muscle-car that I hate I can recognize.

Ricky.

Of-fucking-course.

Doesn’t surprise me that he showed up, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. He gives off a vibe when it comes to Southside. Like he thinks he’s the only one who can protect her. Chances are he saw Pandora’s update just like the rest of us, but damn. What part of ‘she’s moved on’ doesn’t this asshole understand?

If she needs anything from anyone, ever, I’ve got that shit covered.

Cursing under my breath, I step out onto the street. Ricky does the same, shrugging into a dark leather jacket as he cuts a look toward me. Pretty sure our thoughts are the same when our gazes lock—fuck this guy.

In the brief second when his interior light flashes on, I see he’s got Shane and Scarlett in the back. My brothers and Joss crunch snow beneath their boots as they move in closer, and Ricky’s half a step behind. He waits at the foot of the steps, keeping his distance while I bang on the security door with my fist.

There’s unspoken tension when it comes to him and me. It’s the reason I know this false sense of civility between us won’t last. Why? Because he’ll eventually open his damn mouth and say some shit that’ll set me off.

Always does.

“Guess everything I said to you went in one ear and out the other,” he grumbles.

Here we fucking go.

I glance over my shoulder and the hateful glare set on me shouldn’t be surprising.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask with gritted teeth because… Why the fuck is he here?!?!

Shaking his head, he scoffs. Like something I just said is unbelievable to him.

“I told your ass to back the fuck off, but let me guess what happened. You wanted her, right? So bad that you willingly put her dead in the center of your daddy’s crosshairs.”

I turn and face him completely now, hating that every time I look into this motherfucker’s eyes, I see it. Everything he feels for her. He wears that shit right on his damn sleeve, out in the open for me and everyone else to see. He’s damn-near arrogant when it comes to loving her. So, if I haven’t said it yet… Fuck. Ricky. Ruiz.

Fuck him.

“Why don’t I—”

“West,” Sterling cuts in with a stern glare. “We don’t have time for this shit. Stay focused.”

My fists tighten. I know he’s right, but it’s high time I put Ricky in his place. However, a second glare—from Dane this time—halts me. His eyes are saying the same as Sterling’s—Let it go. For now, anyway.

One deep breath later—and a promise to myself that I can deal with Ricky’s ass when there’s less going on—I manage to turn around and let the conversation die. Problem is, Ricky doesn’t seem to have the same idea. As soon as I decide to be the bigger man, he starts running his mouth again and something about this dickhead sets my nerves on edge, making ignoring him virtually impossible.

“All I have to say is, let me replace out your punk-ass daddy did or said some shit that’s got Blue messed up, and I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what, bitch?” I’m down the steps in less than a second, right in his face, going over the thousands of reasons I have to knock his ass out cold. Unlike everyone else in his hood, I’m not scared of him.

“This ain’t what you want, rich boy. Trust me. Especially not tonight,” he warns.

Only, he’s wrong about that. This is exactly what I want—a chance to finish what we started when he showed up outside the fieldhouse. My chest slams his when I step closer, and he pushes back. It isn’t until Joss’s small frame wedges between us, putting a bit of distance where there was none, that I come to my senses again.

“Soooo… I vote we all just calm down and remember that we’re here to see about Blue,” she chimes in, placing one hand on Ricky’s chest and the other on mine.

I haven’t lost sight of why we’re here, but as usual when it comes to him, I’m seeing red, wondering what the hell Southside ever saw in a hothead like him. Then, it hits me. Probably the same shit she sees in me—crazy that matches her own.

I back off and start toward the door again, deciding to knock for a second time. Honestly, all I want is to get in there and see that she’s okay. I didn’t come here for Ricky or his bullshit. However, when he pushes past, shoulder-checking me in the process, he tests my patience once again. But nothing sets my nerves on fire like seeing him pull a set of keys from his pocket. And it isn’t until he slides one into the lock that I accept it.

This asshole has a fucking key.

To my girl’s house.

I take a step toward him, deciding that tonight—right here and now—is the night Ricky Ruiz loses all his teeth, but three sets of hands grab me backward.

“This isn’t the time,” Sterling repeats quietly near my ear.

Seething, my gaze snaps to the right and I catch his. He shakes his head, urging me not to do whatever I had in mind, knowing this shit is eating away at me.

“Focus on Southside,” he adds quietly.

The statement is short, but it reminds me that being here has nothing to do with the ex who can’t seem to learn his fucking place. Hell, it doesn’t even have anything to do with me. The only person who’s important right now is her.

I hold my tongue when the key fucking works, solidifying my hatred for this prick as the front door swings open. Then, with the flip of a switch, the living room brightens from the light of a single lamp on the end table. There’s absolutely no sound whatsoever, other than blood rushing in my ears as my heart pumps double-time.

She’s not here.

She’s not fucking here.

It isn’t lost on me that had this been some weeks ago, my first thought when seeing Southside exit one of my father’s SUVs would’ve been that I was right about her. That she was, in fact, his latest piece of side-ass. But aside from the fact that I’ve since realized she’s not even capable of shit like that, the evidence that’s been mounting against Vin speaks for itself.

“Maybe she took off,” Sterling suggests, just as I’m starting to reach a whole new level of panic.

“Her car’s parked outside,” I point out.

Joss glances around while she thinks. “Maybe… she walked?”

It’s freezing outside, and snowing like crazy, but if she’s pissed, she probably wouldn’t have cared about that.

“I’ll check her room,” Ricky asserts.

“No, I’ve got it.”

After making the correction, my palm slams his chest when he attempts to pass.

There’s hatred rolling off him in waves, and it’s impossible to miss when his gaze slowly rises from where my hand just landed on his chest. He meets my stare and I’ll be damned if I bend on this shit. Whether he likes it or not, if either of us is going down that hallway to Southside’s bedroom, it’s me.

Alone.

I don’t wait for him to get over being put in his place before turning to head toward her bedroom. I start not to bother with the hallway light, but realize I made the right call when glass crunches beneath the sole of my shoe. It doesn’t take long to replace where it came from—a broken mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. The same wall with a huge hole I know wasn’t there the night before.

There’s not enough evidence to know exactly what’s gone down here, but it’s enough that I’m moving faster now, unashamed that I feel desperate as hell, because that’s exactly what I am.

Desperate.

I make it to her bedroom door and flip on the light, feeling my heart race when I replace it empty. But… not entirely.

Sitting next to her bed are three suitcases. Two of which are nearly bursting at the seams, and the other half-open with clothing spilling out of one side.

It’s like she grabbed anything she could in a hurry, preparing to make a run for it.

What the hell did that asshole say to her?

“She’s gone. We have to replace her,” I say in a rush, trying not to freak out when I rejoin the others in the living room. I don’t tell them about anything I saw—the packed bags, the broken mirror.

Everyone’s clearly concerned, but only one’s level of panic even comes close to matching my own—Ricky’s.

“I’ll call Jules,” he says quickly, already dialing.

“And we’ll hit a lap around the block and see if we spot her,” Dane offers.

My head spins and I can’t think about anything but replaceing her, making sure she’s okay. I keep picturing those bags, wondering what could’ve been going through her head. What was so fucking bad that she was ready to bail?

Without answering a single one of my texts or phone calls, no less.

My mood shifts from worried to pissed in zero seconds flat. Not at her, but knowing this is all my father’s handiwork.

Sterling grabs the door handle, but pauses when the security door screeches on the other side. My eyes are fixed there as he steps back, giving someone room to enter. A headful of blonde hair peeks inside, glancing around at the five of us standing in her living room.

“Shit. You’re okay.”

That’s all I’m able to say while rushing to where Southside is now standing, trying to hide one poorly-bandaged hand. I’m starting to think I know where the busted wall and mirror I found in the hallway came from.

“Where the fuck were you?” I get the question out and squeeze her tighter than I probably should.

“I’m fine,” she answers. “Just went for a walk to clear my head, but… how’d you guys get in here?”

Ricky’s response is to dangle his keys and Southside tenses against my chest, knowing what that means.

“Why the hell do you still have that?” she snaps, pulling out of my arms a little when she glares at him. However, instead of answering the question, Ricky shrugs deeper into his jacket and tilts his head in defiance, clearly decided on not giving an actual response.

But we’ve got bigger shit to deal with than Ruiz.

“We all saw Pandora’s update,” I let her know, to which she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, apparently everyone’s seen it.”

My eyes slip toward the bloody bandage on her hand again, but when she realizes my attention’s shifted, she tucks it inside her coat pocket. Like she hopes I don’t call her out on it in front of everyone.

The room’s completely silent, but it feels crowded, making it more obvious that I need to be alone with her. It’s the only way we can speak freely, air shit out without an audience.

All it takes is a glance toward my brothers and they read my thoughts.

“We’ll take off since everything’s okay,” Sterling speaks up.

He nods toward the door and Dane follows. Joss is right behind them, placing a sympathetic touch on Southside’s shoulder on her way out.

While the other three were easily signaled to leave, Ricky—as expected—lingers like a fucking rash. His eyes are locked on Southside and he moves in closer. Closer than what I deem necessary, but why am I even fucking surprised?

“The fuck happened to your hand?” he asks, not bothering to hold his tongue.

Waiting for Southside’s answer, I see that damn look in Ricky’s eyes again. The one that makes me want to rip him to shreds every single time.

“I was upset,” she answers with a sigh. “At the time, I suppose the wall seemed like a great place to plant my fist. And then… maybe the mirror.”

A short, humorless laugh is meant to hide her embarrassment, but I see through it. Mostly because I know what’s hidden in her room, sitting beside her bed right now. And because I know that before taking a walk to clear her head, she came in and wrecked shit to get her rage out. Something happened here tonight, and I get the feeling she doesn’t want to talk about it. However, with Vin being involved, one thing’s for sure.

It was shady as fuck.

Ricky and I share a look. Our mutual animosity doesn’t ease with time. Actually, it grows whenever we’re face-to-face, forced to acknowledge that we’re stuck with each other in a way. I know Southside will never fully kick his ass to the curb because they’ve been friends since childhood. And as much as he wishes otherwise, I’m not going anywhere either.

“I’ll be expecting a call from you by morning, rich boy,” he threatens. “Either you replace out what the fuck is going on, or I’ll get the job done myself. And trust me, you don’t want me to get shit done myself.”

“You’re not helping, Ricky!” Southside snaps, interjecting just as I open my mouth to tell this dipshit to go fuck himself.

He meets her gaze, and it isn’t until now that the hatred he holds for me starts to fade. Why? Because he’s not looking at me anymore; he’s looking at her, and that damn soft spot is showing again.

“I know you’re just worried about me, and I know you made Hunter a promise, but this has nothing to do with you,” she adds. “I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

“So, I’m supposed to just—”

“All you need to know is that West will not be calling to report anything to you in the morning,” she cuts in, “So, please, just… stop. I can’t do this right now.”

Ricky stares, shoulders heaving as he holds in whatever else he wants to get off his chest, but he says nothing.

Well, I’ll be damned. She did it. She found this dickhead’s off-switch.

Don’t think I’ve ever seen him this quiet. While I would’ve typically gloated a bit, I don’t. Because, as someone who’s seen Ricky off his leash, I know this is just another example of how deep his feelings run for her.

“I’m dropping Scar off with Jules for tonight and taking Shane home, but I’m coming back,” he says flatly. Like his mind is already made up.

“Ricky—”

“I’m coming back, B,” he repeats, but with more authority this time. “I’ll chill in the driveway to keep watch. You know, in case Daddy Warbucks decides to bring his ass back.”

It takes strength I didn’t know I had not to put him in his fucking place. He starts toward the door and makes it to the porch before Southside calls out to him again.

“And I’d like my key back,” she asserts. “Hunter gave you that for emergencies only.”

“Guess it’s a good thing this was an emergency.” He doesn’t bother looking back as he continues toward his car.

“Fine, I’ll just have Dusty change the locks.”

Ricky shrugs, still not meeting Southside’s gaze. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Ugh! He’s so damn stubborn,” she groans, glaring as he hops in his car and revs the engine.

Frustrated, she slams the door, and all I can think about is what screwed up shit my father might’ve done or said that made her pack those bags. Made her bust up her hand.

Something my brothers taught me not so long ago stuck in my head. That thing about not pushing too hard, not backing her into a corner.

So, slow and steady it is.

I lift her chin until her gaze meets mine. She’s fucking beautiful, yeah, but that’s not what has me addicted. Life’s dealt her a shit hand, but despite all that, she’s one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. There’s a fire in her that nothing’s been able to kill—not even me, before I came to my senses.

I lower my stare to her hand and gently examine it. The bandage is bloodier than before, which means the wound needs some attention.

“Does it hurt much?”

She shrugs and meets my gaze. “Probably less than you think, seeing as how this isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this out of anger.”

That doesn’t surprise me, but what does catch me off guard is when she manages to smile. Her eyes are glassy, though. Like she’s holding back unshed tears.

“I know you can stand on your own two feet, and I know you don’t need anyone to take care of you, but… maybe you should let me. Just this once, at least.”

She stares for a moment, maybe sensing all the unspoken things that just ran through my head—about loving her, wanting to be whatever she needs me to be.

Her hair shifts when she finally nods, giving in. “…Okay.”

It isn’t lost on me that she doesn’t let many people in, but somehow—even being the twisted fuck that I am—I managed to be counted in that number. I don’t take that lightly. But something unexpected came with the territory of being with a girl like Southside. There’s this powerful loyalty she brings to the table and, in turn, she draws the same out of those closest to her.

Guess that’s why I’m here instead of out there, hunting down my father for the shit he pulled. I’m staying put, making sure Southside’s good, because she needs someone more than ever tonight.

“Let’s get this hand cleaned up. Then, we’ll talk.”

She hesitates, but eventually nods. There’s a tough conversation ahead of us, but we’ll take this on the same way we’re learning to handle everything else.

Together.