Veils of Rivalry Chapter 33

Cole's POV

Jackson doesn’t answer on the fifth ring, and Blaise isn’t replying to my anonymous text. I arranged to meet up last night—I ghosted him, expecting to hear him throwing open the front door and stomping up the stairs, but it’s now the next morning, and he isn’t in his room. It was supposed to piss him off, some payback for thinking he “knows” me so well. For thinking I need his help or reassurance over my dad or everything else going on.

He doesn’t have a place in my life. He’s the fucking poisonous stepbrother I was given, the world’s favor for surviving Malcolm Carter.

Who does he think he is to not reply to me now? He’s not even gracing my masked self with a reply, and it enrages me.

I’m getting fucking annoyed, with a hint of…something else.

My cheek hurts, and I think Blaise nearly cracked a tooth when he hit me, the fucking asshole. Maybe ghosting him as the masked man was a bad idea?

On the eighth attempt to call Jackson and getting nothing, I shoot him a text asking where he is, and if he’s with Blaise.

My lungs halt when he replies with a winking emoji.

A fucking wink emoji.

The fuck?

Does he have Blaise on his knees right now, fucking his face and he’s enjoying it? Maybe Jackson lets Blaise kiss him. After all, I pulled away.

Is this his version of payback?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Jackson has said multiple times that he loves nothing more than to fuck his cock into a tight hole, preferably the back one. Blaise wouldn’t let him do that to him, would he?

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

I stare at the ridiculous response while my hands fail to stop shaking, the roaring in my ears drowning out anything around me. What does it mean? I send a few question marks, waiting and waiting and fucking waiting, but as fifteen minutes fly by, he ignores me. Instead of being anonymous in my burner, I pull up Blaise’s contact on my normal phone and type, my heart pounding faster than I care to admit as I pace the floor.

Me: Where the fuck are you?

I’m in two states of unsureness. One side, Blaise obviously likes cock and so does Jackson. I know, from previous conversation, that Jackson thinks Blaise is hot and would fuck him. But Blaise wouldn’t go near him, right?

Maybe with me, he’s just exploring the basics and seeing if it’s something he’s actually into before he fucks off to someone he can really…

I grind my teeth to dust and drive my foot into my door, making it slam shut with a bang.

But Jackson just got kicked off the team so Blaise could slide in. What if he hurts him? He’s capable of lashing out on him.

He’s also capable of setting him up and leading him into a fucking murder house with all my friends waiting with bats. They won’t grant him any mercy—they’ll probably record it all and post it all over social media with their faces covered and Blaise all busted up and bloodied on the floor.

Fuck.

I quickly shower, pull on clothes, and check my burner phone one last time before ditching it in my dresser drawer and packing my bag.

Still nothing from Blaise or Jackson. Samson doesn’t answer, and there’s nothing posted online. The group chat is silent too.

I huff as I bring up a contact I refuse to save in my phone. She left when Blaise told her to leave after seeing the house in ruins.

It rings four times before it stops. “Cole?”

“Mia,” I greet, giving her a tone like I didn’t just spend a week with her at close proximity. “Is Blaise with you?”

“No,” she whispers, a door closing in the background. “I’m with Allie. She’s been a mess since⁠—”

“Where’s Blaise?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “That’s why you’ve called?” Mia couldn’t sound more defeated if she tried. “I thought…” she trails off into silence.

Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why else would I call you? Do you know where he is or not?”

“No, he hasn’t replied to any of my messages or calls. Do you need help finding him? I can drive over and pick you up?”

My jaw clenches as I shake my head. “Let me know if you hear from him.”

I cut the call before she can say anything else. I don’t really know what her deal is with me all of a sudden, and it’s frustrating. She’s my ex’s friend, surely, there’s a rule to stay away from the other’s ex? Maybe if I tell Allie, she’ll back off and leave me the fuck alone. Then my ex might want to know why she out of the blue wants my cock, and she’d believe Mia’s warped memory of that night over me and I’d be labeled as a cheat and she’d make my life hell.

Maybe I should just fuck her. I’ll make it hurt and bruise her inner thighs so she never looks in my direction again. Not only will it make her scared of me, but it’ll piss Blaise off and hopefully Allie will stop blowing up my phone with drunken voicemails. She’d hate me too, and that’s fine.

It’s such a great plan that I contemplate calling Mia back to sneak away from my ex. It’ll be a fucking nightmare for her, but worth it.

I know for a fact if I told Mia to get on her knees, she would in a heartbeat, and that’s concerning considering she has never been like that with me.

I think for a second about all the implications of those actions. One, I don’t have any attraction to her. I doubt I’d even get hard. And she might like it rough and want me more. If she told Allie… I shiver at the thought of that bomb dropping and all the evil things Allie would do to me.

Nah, I won’t fuck her. She’s not my type and she’s clingy and annoying.

And Mia belongs to Blaise.

I reject her incoming call and leave the room.

Reaching downstairs, I pause in the entrance of the sitting room, seeing my mom crying into Blaise’s dad’s chest. My bag slides down my arm, dropping it on the ground. The heavy chains, mask, and hoodie I put in clank on the laminate, where I leave it and walk to my mom.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice soft.

Ignoring me, she buries her head into his chest more.

My stepdad glares at me. “Can you not leave your mother alone for five minutes? She’s obviously upset, boy. None of this would even be happening if it wasn’t for you.”

I narrow my eyes. “How the fuck is this my fault?” I gesture to the wrecked surroundings, most of which my mom has cleaned up. “I didn’t do this.”

“Same blood,” he snarls.

I laugh, because it’s the same tune from him every damn day. “When I leave, I hope you know I’ll be kicking your ass.”

Mom snaps her head in my direction. “That’s enough! Get out!”

I want to tell her to fuck off too, but I won’t.

Mom will be upset and that’s why she’s shouting at me. She’s been through enough without me making things even worse as usual. So I do as I’m told and leave, throwing myself behind the wheel of my car and starting the engine.

I pause when I see a text popping up on my screen.

Jackson: Does bro code still count if I fuck your brother? If not, then my bad, dude. He wanted it and I’m nothing but a gentleman who has needs.

At the same time as my entire body seizing, I glance up when I sense movement, seeing Blaise with his hood up, hurrying his steps down the driveway, not sparing a look at my car to see if I’m in it before he vanishes down the road.

I slump in the seat and chew my lip. He’s not dead, and he’s not with Jackson like I thought. He was in the house all this time, so I have no reason to feel like I’m on the verge of being sick, right? Am I just losing my mind?

My phone vibrates again, and I see a text from Allie, asking to meet up to talk. She wants to be friends.

Nope.

I block her and turn my engine off, staying here until the sun goes down and my eyes are heavy. I only leave the car after watching Mia and Blaise get out of her car and rush into the house.