Liability

Chapter 26 - Rhys

A/N: It's been a hot minute you guys, but know that I adore your comments and they push me to try harder. Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter but my schedule is crazy due to juggling my new job, my master's and my private students while living alone with no one to do the chores but me. So new chapters may take a while but I promise to finish this story. Looking at the plot, I'd say we're about halfway finished, so you can probably expect another 20 chapters if things go well. 

Thank you for all the votes, hits and of course the brilliant comments! They mean the world to me and if you have any questions, feel free to DM me. I hope you like the new chapter! :) 

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Tuesday
September 11, 2018

Thommy's first reaction upon seeing Mark is to punch him in the face. Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose at the sight of his best friend standing over Mark's sprawled form in the middle of the living room. It's too fucking early for this much drama.

"The fuck is your problem?!" Mark exclaims cradling his jaw. It looks fine from what Rhys can see, but he doesn't doubt it for a second that it is going to turn purple soon. Thommy never pulls his punches and Rhys knows that he's been itching to give Mark a beating for the shit he has pulled again.

"You are my problem, you sniveling little bitch!" Thommy spits, his dark eyes thunderous. "Did you have fun snorting meth and fucking whatever hole you could get your dick into while we were expecting to hear that you died in a ditch?"

"Fuck off, Prescott. As if you cared about what happens to me. You just wanted to suck up to Martinez some more, because his balls just aren't shiny enough yet," Mark retorts with a lopsided, nasty grin.

"Could you take your frankly humiliating conversation out of my home?" Rhys cuts in before Thommy can spout some more idiocy. "It's seven in the morning. Mark, drink some water and take a shower. You smell disgusting. Thommy, go sit down while I get breakfast going."

"I want coffee."

"I didn't ask."

Rhys busies himself with making breakfast for three while Thommy looms over his back all but growling like a pissed guard dog and Mark shuffles off in the direction of the bathroom after flipping him the bird. Rhys rolls his eyes at the contents of his fridge before he pulls out eggs, milk to make some French toast.

"I want mine salty. With ketchup and mayo."

"Go sit in the living room."

"But Rhyyyyys, I have piping hot tea and we have to investigate!" Rhys spares Thommy an unimpressed look as he whisks the eggs and milk together in a bowl. Thommy offers him a toothy grin and wraps himself around Rhys' shoulders, nuzzling his cheek into Rhys' hair. "You're the best."

"And you are the worst."

"Nope, I'm a grandmaster spy and the coolest. While you were babysitting that asshat in your shower, I wined and dined Dim-A and got some juicy gossip off him," Thommy says, still wrapped around Rhys like a hulking octopus. "I mean, I'm sure he thought he was subtly grilling me for answers... Oh shit."

Rhys' hand freezes over a stack of presliced bread. "What?"

"That bastard! He totally got me talking about that creep Mulligan... What the hell?!"

"Yes, Prescott, what the fucking hell?!" echoes Mark who is standing in the bathroom door wearing his wrinkled uniform from the previous day, his expression apoplectic. "What the ever fucking hell do you all see in that whiny little bitch? It's not been two weeks and half the school is panting after him. Does he suck dick so well or what?"