RECKLESS - Part 1 by Alice Ward Read Free Book Online Page B

hear the warning in his tone.
    Sean had never been an unreasonable man, nor a man prone to losing his temper… but this? This was something we'd never had to face before. Something that could make any man come unglued. I understood his uncharacteristic behavior. Really, I did. But I couldn't just leave school three months before graduation. Scratch that. I wouldn’t.
    "I'm fine, Sean. No harm done."
    "N-no harm done?” he stuttered. “Are you kidding me, Andy? You were drugged at a concert you had no business being at, and then you were taken home by some—some—rocker guy you don’t even know? And you're sure he didn't do anything to you while you were sleeping?"
    "Not unless he's extremely skilled at taking clothes off and putting them back on," I retorted. I knew I was skating on thin ice. But he was being irrational.
    I listened for a few terse seconds, waiting for some kind of response. "What are you doing?" I finally asked.
    "Booking a plane ticket."
    "A plane ticket? Sean, I already told you—"
    "I know," he snapped, cutting me off. "You said you weren't coming home. So I'm coming to you."
    "Sean, this is ridiculous. I know you're angry and worried, but there's no reason to—"
    Something crashed in the background. Oh, dear God. I'd never seen or heard him throw anything. To be quite honest, I wasn't sure I liked it much.
    "You know what? I think I'm going to let you calm down before we talk about this any further," I said, not caring if my annoyance bled through on the other end of the line.
    "God damn it, Andy. This conversation isn't—"
    I hit the end button on my cell phone. Whatever he had to say after would have to wait.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    It'd been two days since the concert.
    My piece on it was due to Marcus before my trip home, but for some reason, I just couldn't concentrate on it. Or maybe the material I had was shit. Either way, I wasn't getting any writing done so I decided to head over to the coffee shop for some caffeine and a pastry. If that didn't work, I'd be picking up a bottle of wine on the way home.
    As I walked through campus, I tried not to think about how much life had changed in a week, but I couldn't help it. Things were still shaky between me and Sean. I couldn't write a word to save my life. And I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid I'd unknowingly come across the person who'd drugged me at the concert. It was probably an irrational fear, but it was there, nonetheless.
    I contemplated just leaving and going for that bottle of wine when I finally reached the coffee shop. The line was damn near out the door, and I wasn't in the mood for waiting. But just before I turned to go, I spotted Jace, sitting at the same table he'd been at the night we'd first met. Maybe I could interview him again, change the angle of my piece, and hopefully salvage at least one part of my life.
    It was worth a shot anyway, right?
    Jace spotted me the second I walked through the door of the café. I wasn’t sure what to think about the vibes he gave off; at first he seemed excited, then angry, then nervous. But all of that faded away to kindness by the time he reached where I stood in the line.
    “Hey,” I said, hoping to come off completely casual, despite the ball of nerves twisting and writhing in my gut.
    “Hey yourself.”
    “Just, um, ordering some coffee. And then I saw you and I—uh… Well, my interview really sucked,” I said, clearing my throat. “I was hoping maybe I could talk you into doing another one?”
    “Um, sure. I guess,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
    “Are you busy now?”
    He glanced over his shoulder and scratched behind his ear, as if he might be expecting someone. “No, not really,” he finally said, but he still looked awfully uncertain of himself—probably a first in the world of Jace Richardson.
    While I stood in line to order my coffee, he sat at his table. I tried not to watch him, but I found myself glancing over at him every so often. It