Playing With Fire

CHAPTER VIII (8)

CHAPTER VIII
Solana

   Jonothan's threatening "later" moment never came—at least, for the following week.

   I'd been sitting on edge, waiting for him to erupt, but all he did was avoid and ignore me. Even when our roommates tried to start conversation, Jon would leave or pull out his phone. I was surprised how much his silence hurt and surprised me. Jonothan was not one to stay quiet. But I knew he was keeping his words to himself because they were bad.

   Since that day at the restaurant, I also hadn't seen Kane. In my defence, he was getting ready for his game, and most of all, I had my own personal guard. Presley.

   I'm pretty sure Jon told him to stay by my side, and stay by my side he did. Even though he'd go to his morning practices, he always made sure to see me to my building and keep his eyes out for our surroundings. And when I told him not to bother, that Kane wasn't coming, Presley gave me the same glare I'd been on the receiving end of from my brother. 

   "I can't believe you'd do this to him. To us," was something he'd say each time Kane was brought into conversation. I stopped mentioning him after day four.

   It was Saturday now, and more specifically, the first day of October. Jon's game was in three hours, but he made no effort to go early and leave me, despite Malik's protests. I appreciated his effort, even though he didn't try to hide his disappointment in me behind my brothers back.

   I was almost four hours into studying for my sleep psychology course—that made me want to sleep—when my phone rang with a notification.

   My back was flat on the wall my bed was pressed against, papers sprawled around me. My laptop was on me, and my crusty eyes managed to shift to the corner of my bed, close to my pillows. My phone laid there, screen upright and lit.

   Forcing my stiff muscles to move, I reached out while simultaneously moving the computer off me. Once the phone was in my grip, I tapped the screen once and sucked a breath. It wasn't only who texted me that made me tense up, but the message connected to the contact.

   Quickly plugging in my password, my eyes widened when I noticed that attached to the text, was an image. That image being what I assumed was the front of Kane's house, only, instead of its natural red front door, it was spray-painted with a variety of colours—most prominently, white and navy blue. Hawk colours.

   Was this the team? I knew there was likely no one else to do this, but Presley had been stuck to me like glue the last week, so had everyone else done this, and not him? I hadn't seen any sign of spray paint on their hands.

   Did you know? His message was simple, but I could feel the tension through the screen. He thought I had something to do with this?

   Aggravated, I scrunched my nose and lifted my other hand, rapping out a quick reply. Are you serious? Re-read that message and check who you sent it to. I never know what goes on between you and my brother.

   His reply came a few hesitating seconds later. I'm fucking pissed, Lonnie. You can't blame me for making sure.

   I re-read his message a second time. Is it waterproof?

   So far, doesn't seem like it. Are they home?