➳ 𝐇𝐄 '𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

⊰ 𝟞 ⊱

'THE CARVER BROTHERS.' ~ PART: TWO.

I grab his phone. My mouth drops when I see the messages.

Guy one: 'Ayo, did you hit yet, man?'

Guy two: 'I bet that little bitch is tight af.'

Guy three: 'Make sure to record that shit, Tate.'

My stomach clenches at the messages. It's nearly impossible to swallow over the lump formed in my throat. I could hear my blood rushing to my ears, The sound almost too deafening as I drop the phone and bolt down the staircase to the front door.

Tate's whole dinner with his parent's bs was just a diversion to get me to sleep with him from the beginning. That's why he had tried to kiss me just now. This entire situation was a setup. I was just too gullible to see it. This was Tate's sick attempt in trying to piss off Lyle. I just knew it.

"Evie, the hell are you doing?" Tate's voice startles me as he jogs down the stairs, throwing a shirt over his body.

"I want to go home," I tell him firmly, my eyes burning as I dare not allow myself to cry in front of him. "Take me home."

He stares at me through a narrowed brow, "What, why?" what's the matter?" He reaches out to touch my arm, but I step back.

"You touch me, and I'll fucking slap you," I warn. "Take me home, Tate. Or so help me god, I will walk." Tate scoffs, pulling his arm away. My words must have hit a nerve because his face is drowning in exasperation.

He opens his mouth to speak, but his mother now making her way towards us, holding my dress makes him go silent.

"You're not leaving, are you, sweety?" The sad tone in Mrs. Carver's voice makes me feel almost guilty. "We haven't sat to eat. You must be starving."

Tate rests his hand on her arm, "Mom, Evie's not feeling too well. I think she might have gotten sick from the rain." His lie sounds so much like the truth it's scary.

I watch as Mrs. Carver nods with a soft smile before handing me my now perfectly cleaned dress, "That's too bad then. It was lovely meeting you, Evie."

I say my goodbyes to Mrs. Carver, then make my way outside to Tate's car. I sit in the back as Tate hops in the driver's seat, and we begin the semi-short journey back to my house.

While Tate was busy keeping his eyes on the road, I took the opportunity to remove his t-shirt, replacing it with my dress. The last thing I wanted was to return home in different clothing, especially a guy's t-shirt.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?" Tate groans, glaring at me through the rear-view mirror.

I look up at him, struggling to tie my dress up at the back. "I saw the damn group chat messages, Tate."

I watch as Tate's knuckles turn a milky pale white, from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. His now midnight blue eyes dance between mine and the road.

"You went through my phone?" He snaps harshly, causing me to flinch. The look on his face was enough to make my blood run cold.

I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of scaring me, though. "Just like you went through mine, Yeah." I retort behind false confidence, "I guess we're even now." I throw his shirt on the floor.

Tate's hard expression eases into a more calmer one, "What exactly did you see?"

I finally manage to tie the back of my dress up, just in time to scoff out of annoyance, "What did I see?" I repeat, my eyes wide, "What I saw was your lame ass friends talking shit. Did you bring me to your house just to try and get in my pants? is that what this whole thing was?"