Until You (Fall Away #1.5)

Until You (Fall Away #1.5) Page 40

The tension in her shoulders slacked, but her head dropped. Almost like she’d given up.

“I love you more than myself,” I told her, “more than my own family, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to take another step in this world without you next to me.”

And as much as I hated to admit that, it was true.

I loved my mother and my brother. But if it ever came between the three, I would always pick Tate.

When she didn’t turn around or say anything, I dropped my hand to her shoulder. “Tate.”

But she whipped around, flinging my hand off her body. Her eyes were guarded.

I was still the enemy.

“You have every right not to trust me, Tate. I know that. My f**king heart is ripping open right now. I can’t stand the way you’re looking at me. I could never hurt you again. Please…let’s try to fix this together.” My voice was cracking, and the lump in my throat got bigger.

“Fine.” She reached into her pocket and took out her phone. “ I’ll play along.”

Play?

“What are you doing?” I asked, narrowing my blurry eyes at her.

“Calling your mom.” She started pressing buttons on her screen.

“Why?”

“Because she installed a GPS tracking app on your Android when she bought it. You said you lost your phone? Let’s find it.”

Chapter 37

“School,” Tate almost whispered as she slipped her phone back in her pocket. “It’s at school.”

“Son of a bitch.” My mother tracked me? I guess that explained how she found me the night at the fish pond. “She’s smarter than I thought,” I said more to myself.

So my phone was at school. I left it at the party, so that meant that someone from our school had taken it, and they had it on.

Well, that was dumb.

It still didn’t solve the question of how someone had recorded the video. My phone was playing music that night, but it definitely wasn’t recording Tate and me.

Shit.

I blinked long and hard.

The balcony.

Could someone have been out there filming us?

Now, my gut was twisted with acid, and I was charged.

That was the first time Tate had taken over, tried something new and gotten on top. She was brave and beautiful, and I was rocked.

To think of someone outside on the balcony the whole time, watching us. Watching her.

Refocusing, I looked at Tate, whose eyebrows were arched in. Scared.

But she’s not a runner anymore.

“I see that look in your eye.” I inched closer and spoke quietly. “It’s the look you get when you want to bolt. The look you get right before you decide to stay and fight.”

“What am I fighting for?” she said, her voice cracking.

Us, dammit!

“We did nothing wrong, Tate.”

Her eyes were red from crying, but I knew she wasn’t running away. Her breathing evened out, and her lips settled in a resolved line.

“Let’s go.” She turned and walked to her truck, swinging open the door.

Thank God. I let out a long breath.

Maybe we wouldn’t find my phone. Maybe I wouldn’t be proved innocent in her eyes. Maybe taking her back to school, with all of those eyes, was a huge-ass mistake.

But she was fighting for us again, and that had me so happy I’d dance in public anytime she asked.

“Is…um…is your car safe to drive?” She gestured to the Boss parked behind her truck.

Baby, I don’t even care. I shook my head.

“Don’t sweat it. It gives me an excuse to do more upgrades.”

Her eyes pooled, but she blinked the tears away and took a deep breath.

“Stop at your mom’s firm and pick up her phone,” she instructed, as we’d need my mom’s phone to find mine. “I’ll meet you at school.”

Once I grabbed my mother’s phone and hurried away from her questions, I sped off to school to find Tate in the parking lot waiting for me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, taking her hand, but she immediately yanked it away.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

“Tate.”

She wouldn’t look at me. Her eyes were turned away, looking at the school.

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay.” Her voice was raspy as if she were holding back tears. “I don’t think I’m going to have any idea how to answer that for a while.”

She ran a hand through her long, blonde hair and took a deep breath before walking towards the school.

God, I hope this works.

The more time that passed, the further away from me she got, and whether or not I was guilty, this might be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Tate had had enough.

She was walking the line between fighting back and shutting down.

Coming up beside her, I stayed close but didn’t touch her.

Everyone was still in class but not for long. The bell would ring soon, and we’d be like animals in a cage at the zoo.

Eyes all around and nowhere to turn.

I followed the tracker on my mom’s phone, still amazed that I wasn’t pissed off that she tracked me.

After so long feeling like I was on my own, it actually felt comforting to have someone worry about me.

The light flashed, showing my phone’s general location, but it wasn’t specific.

There had to be a quicker way to do this.

My hands were shaky, and I wanted to get the f**k out of here before the bell rang.

“Is it still flashing?” Tate asked, looking over at the phone in my hand.

“Yeah.” I looked around, waiting for someone to see us. “I can’t believe my phone is still on after two days. GPSs use a lot of battery.”

“Well, the video was sent this morning,” she pointed out. “If what you say is true, then whoever used your phone has probably charged it since Saturday night.”

So far away.

“If what I say is true…” I repeated her words, hating how quickly shit changes. This morning I was all over her, and now it was like she wanted me far away.

“Look,” she spoke up, killing the silence between us. “This tracker’s only accurate within fifty meters. So—”

“So start dialing my phone,” I interrupted. “Maybe we’ll hear it.”

Fifty meters covered a lot of area. The phone was here, but we’d need help finding out where exactly.

She dug her phone out of her back pocket and called my cell. We walked the tiled floors in silence, listening for any rings or vibrations from the lockers.

Even though she had the phone to her ear, I could still hear my voicemail pick up. Every time it did, she hung up and redialed as we continued to walk.

“Let’s split up,” she finally suggested after the fifth call. “I’ll keep dialing. Just listen for a sound. I think it’s in a locker.”

“Why?” I asked, stopping to look at her. “Someone could have it on them, too.”

“With me calling every ten seconds? No.” She shook her head. “They would’ve turned off the phone, in which case it would’ve gone straight to voicemail. It’s on, and it’s in a locker.”

Split up?

I rubbed my jaw, not liking this idea one f**king bit.

But we didn’t have long.

“Fine,” I bit out. “But if you find it, call my mom’s phone immediately. I don’t want you in the halls alone, not today.”

She stood there, studying me, like she wasn’t sure if any of this was worth her time. She was probably thinking that I did send the video, and I was just playing with her now.

Spinning around, she left and darted up the stairs to the next floor.

I continued searching the first floor, my fists clenching and unclenching inside of the front pocket of my hoodie as I listened for any sound of my phone.

I didn’t wear a watch, usually using my phone to tell the time, but I knew we were close.

The bell was going to ring, and we needed to just give this up and get the hell out of here.

This morning I’d felt her kisses, her hands, and her happiness. But now I only felt her doubt. It sat between us like a ten ton elephant.

The phone in my hand buzzed, and I jerked it up so fast I almost dropped it.

2nd floor, next to Kuhl’s room!! Tate texted.

Shit.

I f**king bolted up the nearest flight of stairs to the next floor and nearly tripped on the steps when the final bell screamed.

Dread slammed my stomach down to my feet, and I only hesitated a moment before I charged ahead through the doors and onto the second floor.

Students flooded the hall, all trying to get to their lockers or downstairs to leave.

Most of them did a second-take at seeing me, but I just turned left and pushed through the crowd as fast as I could.

People coming my way slowed down, while others stopped to whisper to their friends. There’s was no telling what was going through their heads, and my fists balled up in aggravation. Not only was I angry about what had happened, but I was completely f**king pissed that I now had to clean up a mess I didn’t make.

I finally found Tate next to a set of lockers towards the end of the hall, and she definitely had onlookers.

Her body was rigid, but she stood tall and didn’t hide from their stares. She looked at me, and I f**king melted when I saw her guard with me was back down.

“Are you alright?” I asked, taking her face in my hands.

“Yes.” Her tone told me everything. She believed me. “The phone is here, in 1622,” she said softly, and I tensed. “I don’t know whose locker it is, though.”

I do.

I looked behind her, my eyes hardening on the locker.

Piper.

My jaw was glued together, and oxygen poured in like fuel.

I didn’t hit women, but I’d damn well let Tate hit her.

“Back so soon?” a female voice snipped behind me. “Is your  p**n  career a failure already?”

Tate’s body shifted under my hands, and I placed a light kiss on her forehead before I turned around to face the bitch.

I tried to keep Tate behind me, but she yanked me back and quickly stepped in front.

Oh, Jesus. I rubbed my forehead and tried not to smile.

Nothing was funny here, but Tate continued to surprise me.

“Actually, we’re just waiting for you,” she said with mock happiness. “You know that video that came from Jared’s phone this morning? The one that everyone saw? He didn’t send it. His phone was stolen Saturday night. Would you know where it is?” Tate asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

The hall had gotten quiet, and everyone stood like they were on the outside of a boxing ring peering in.

“Why would I know where his phone is?” Piper sneered.

Tate held up her cell. “Oh, because….” She hit “redial”, and everyone heard my ringtone for Tate— Limp Bizkit’s Behind Blue Eyes—coming from Piper’s locker.

It was the ringer I’d put after she’d left for France—like she’d ever call—and I never changed it.

Tate flashed her screen to everyone, so they could see that it was my name on the screen of who she was dialing.

“This is your locker, Piper,” I pointed out, so everyone would know.

Tate was humiliated. The damage was done.

But it wasn’t a choice. Everyone had to know that I wasn’t responsible for hurting her like that. Not ever again.

“You know, I just love that song,” Tate teased. “Let’s hear it again.” She redialed, and people stood around, some waiting for a fight, while others whispered or nodded.

Walking up, I bent down into her face. “Open up your locker and give me my goddamn phone back, or we’ll get the Dean, and he’ll open the locker.”

Her lips pursed. “It was Nate’s idea!” She cracked and started defending herself.