VICIOUS

58.

The rest of the afternoon, we laugh and talk about the events of the past three months. Bianca and Jake listen to our stories, surprised by some of them. It's a relaxed afternoon. One last time together before we go our own ways. 

This is something I needed. Just relax a little bit, not having to deal with the consequences because of the mistakes we made. Even after the horrible shit I discovered today, this is a good way to put my mind to something other than work. 

''But for how long have you been friends for?'' Jake asks us. He sits across me, in between Drew and Bianca. ''You seem to be good friends, if I'm honest.'' 

Drew shrugs. ''About four years with the guys, three years with Taylor.'' 

I nod in agreement. I open my mouth to say something, but at that exact time my phone vibrates. I look over my shoulder, at my phone that lies on the table with tools behind me. It stays quiet, but a few seconds later it vibrates again. 

Everyone's gaze is focused on my phone. 

''Who could possibly text you?'' Thomas mumbles next to you.

''Perhaps a survivor?'' Matthew proposes. 

''I hope so,'' Neo sighs and he looks at the drink in his hands, ignoring us. 

I get up from my chair and pick up the phone from the table. I turn it on and the screen lights up. I open my messages and look at who texted me. 

Fucking hell. 

''I gotta call someone, I think it's important,'' I vaguely say and I quickly walk outside. 

The cold wind blows through my hair when I walk through the door. The weather is getting colder every day. I rapidly dial the phone number that I have to call and bring my phone up to my ear. Trying to stay calm, I wait for him to pick up his phone. 

My lips form a straight line. Come on, just pick up your phone. You were the one who texted me first. The least you could do is give a proper explanation on why you contacted me. 

I wait for five minutes, but he doesn't pick up. Angrily, I hang up. But then my phone vibrates again. 

Brandon: Darling, there's no need to call me. Texting is fine.

I let out an annoyed sigh. How did this dickhead get my phone number? I've always been careful with handing out my personal data. 

I groan and throw my head in my neck. Fuck, he got it from when I stayed at Oblivion. It's so obvious, yet I forgot about it. But why would he call me? Just to rub in the fact that his gang won and that we lost? That's the only reason I can think of at the moment. 

Now that I think about it, it's something he would do. He's a cocky, selfish, filthy rat. He can fuck off with his smooth, little talks. 

Taylor: Why are you texting me?

Brandon: Wanted to check in. 

Taylor: And why do you care?

My fingers rapidly type the words. 

Brandon: Because I care about you. 

My heart skips a beat and I furrow my eyebrows. Is he being serious?

Taylor: Why?

A simple, yet complicated question. All I have to do now is wait for him to respond with an answer. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually a new message pops up. 

Brandon: Because it's you. It has always been you, darling. I've always looked up to you. The way you handled complicated situations.. 

I don't respond. 

Brandon: The way you try to get information out of people, no matter the cost. 

I already know he's talking about our 'almost one night stand'. But he was the one who went nuts and screwed everything up. 

 Brandon: You may seem like a person who's hard to love. But a person like me falls hard for someone like you. 

With a neutral face, I stare at the screen. But in my mind a hell has broken loose. He can't be serious. He has to be joking, just so he could piss me off even more. He manipulates people, he-

That's when it hits me. He manipulates people. And that's exactly what he's doing to me right now. Manipulating me into thinking he cares and likes me. And he has picked out the person who's sensitive to everything that has to do with love. The person who went insane because of love. 

I shake my head. If I'm going to do this, I have to be careful. 

Taylor: What do you want from me? 

Once again, he takes forever to respond. I expect a whole ass paragraph, but all he sends is one word. A word that drives me insane. 

Brandon: You.