You’re Mine

Chapter 194

Easton

“Another beer?"

Blake says, walking into his room with the third six— pack of the afternoon.

He told us he needed help packing up to go to college, that he had a shit—ton of stuff, but I never expected this.

It's like he's moving his whole house.

"Fuck yes,’ I answer, holding out my hand.

“Without question,” Ryan says.

“Why in the hell didn't you hire a moving company?"

I ask, glancing around the room, seeing all the boxes we've done so far, knowing we have way more to go.

Blake sets the rest of the beers on his desk and starts putting another box together.

"Because I have two best friends who are more than capable of doing it.” He laughs and I want to knock his ass out.

We've been here for hours and we'll still be here for a few more.

“After this, I'm not sure you'll be able to call us friends anymore,’ Ryan says, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"This is hard ass work.” "Tell me about it” I add, lifting a box of books out of his room to bring it into the hallway, swearing it weighs at least a hundred pounds.

I stand in the doorway, taking an inventory of what's left.

“Why do you need all this shit anyway?"

"Because I need it,” Blake answers.

“Your bitching isn't going to speed this process up.” He walks over to the desk and hands me another beer.

“Drink that and stop crying.” I twist off the cap and guzzle it down.

“Thanks ... dick.” Ryan holds up a series of pictures from prom that were taken in the photobooth that was rented for the night and he points it toward Blake.

"Things done between you and the freshman?” He finishes with the wardrobe box and moves onto another one.

"Things never started between us.

She was just a date.” “Then why didn't you take Aisha if she wasn't anyone special?” I ask.

Blake shrugs, pausing the packing to take a drink.

“I know you guys don't like her and I didn't want to bring her around the group since all everyone would do is fight all night.” “Finally, a right decision.” He flips me off for my comment.

"I was looking out for you guys.” “And I appreciate it,’ I tell him.

“Harper would have lost her mind.

It was hard enough getting her to recover from the shit that was written on the limo.

You add in Aisha and that would've sent her straight over the fucking edge.” "Don't get me started on the whore incident, it makes my fucking blood boil” Ryan says, “Let's talk about something important, like if the freshman put out.” “Jesus,” I groan and drown myself in beer.

“Well, did she?"

Ryan follows up.

"She's a virgin, Blake replies. “That's certainly never stopped you before,” I add. Blake goes back to his closet, taking another armful of clothes to hang those in the new box.

"It did that night. She's the clingy type and I'm leaving for school. I didn't want to get all involved, and then worry she might show up on campus or something.” He shakes his head.

“I sure as hell don't need that.” “Or the freshman's father coming to hunt your ass down for taking his daughter's virginity after she's butt hurt that you peaced out to San Diego, Ryan says.

“That too,’ Blake agrees.

I feel a vibration in my pocket and take out my phone, seeing a text from Harper.

Harper: Are you guys going to be there for a while? Should Sadie and I bring you food? I glance up and say, “Anyone hungry? Harper and Sadie are offering to bring some grub.” "Fuck yes,” Ryan says.

"I want a Big Mac and a large pepperoni pizza.” laugh.

"You want both?"

“I'm on my fifth beer and doing manual labor. Don't fight with me. Yes, I want both.” I continue to chuckle and look at Blake.

“What about you?” “Pizza is fine.” Me: 2 large pizzas and your brother also wants a Big Mac Harper: We're on it.

Anything else? Me: Just you.

Harper: Silly, you already have me.

Me: Then, go get the food and hurry over here, so I don't have to wait any longer to really have you.

Harper: See ya soon.

"The girls will be here in no time, let's get this shit wrapped up,’ I tell them and I drop my empty beer in his trash and go over to his bed.

Since he's not taking any of his furniture, he instructed us not to touch his sheets or pillows.

But since I hide plenty of shit under my bed, shit I don't want out in the open, I figure Blake does too, and he'll need that stuff packed up as well.

I get on my stomach and take a peek undemeath, checking out the whole space between his mattress and floor.

There's only one thing under there.

A box.

Not even a big one, it's about the size that would fit a couple pairs of shoes.

I swipe it with my arm, dragging it toward me along the carpet and once I get it out, I notice nothing is written on the lid.

I lift it off, seeing which of the boxes we'll need to dump this stuff into, whether it fits with his school stuff or clothes or personal items—boxes we've already labeled.

But as I look inside, it takes me a minute to realize what I'm staring at.

To process each item.

To slowly put the pieces together in my brain.

And when it all clicks, I practically explode.

There are four cans of spray paint—the same color as the WHORE that was sprayed across Harper's parents’ garage and the lockers at school—two of them brand new, the other two used as bits of the paint are all over the nozzle and have dripped down the sides of the can.

There's also cheerleader paint in there, the same kind that was used on the windows of Sadie and Ryan's car and on the limo and on the fucking mirror at school.

When Ryan and I found cans in the back of his car, he denied doing it.

I fucking dare him to deny it again.

I turn around.

My teeth grind together as I look at Ryan who's busy packing Blake's hat collection.

I then gaze over at Blake who's putting the rest of his clothes into the wardrobe box.

Neither of them notice what I'm doing.

Neither of them know I'm about to lose my fucking shit.

I balance the box on my hand and tilt it forward, so they'll both be able to see what's inside.

“Blake ..."

The sound of my voice causes both of them to tum around.

I look at Ryan first, watching him peer inside the box, the realization finally hitting him. NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

My eyes shift over to Blake, my throat growling, “Explain what the fuck this is.” Panic shoots across his face, his body becoming twitchy, his gaze shifting between Ryan and me.

"Easton—"

“You have about a second to explain yourself before I choke your ass out. And I promise, Blake, you'll never take another fucking breath again.”