Page 184 of Right Man, Right Time
“No, the fuck it’s not,” I say, tossing the phone back. “She wouldn’t have written that.”
“Dude,” Pacey says softly. “It’s in there.”
“Where?” I say, swimming in the lane of denial.
Posey picks up the phone, and he scrolls through it. Then hands me the phone.
My eyes zero in on the start of the paragraph.
And after a long road trip, where the boys are beaten up and ready for a homecooked meal, there’s nothing more they want to go home to than their family and loved ones. Unfortunately for Silas Taters, that wasn’t always the case. The Agitators paint their organization as picture perfect, but when you lift the veil, you’re offered a glimpse into another side of the story, a side where their players can’t seem to make their loved ones happy. It’s probably not the first time this has happened, but it’s the first confirmed time on record that our Agitators aren’t perfect. Silas Taters’s former girlfriend cheated on him.
The phone slips out of my hand as my eyes remain fixed on the spot in front of me.
No.
There’s no fucking way.
She wouldn’t do that to me.
She cares about me. She knows the damage. She understands the trust issues I suffer. She wouldn’t use me as a piece in her article . . . right?
I read through it.
I approved it . . .
And then something sticks out in my head. The day she told me she turned it in, she said she made some changes. Were these the changes?
“Silas,” Holmes says softly. “What can we do, man?”
“I . . . I don’t fucking know,” I say as I lean back on the headboard. “I don’t fucking believe it.” Then immediately, I ask, “Who wrote that? What’s the name on the article?”
“It’s Ollie,” Pacey says. “Byline, Ollie Owens.”
“You told her about Sarah and what happened, right?” Posey asks.
“I did, but . . . she swore she wouldn’t say anything to anyone.” I shake my head, unable to comprehend this. “She wouldn’t do that . . . would she?”
My mind flies fast with ideas, with notions of what could have happened, but out of all of the scenarios, one thing keeps sticking out in my mind . . . her need to prove herself. Her need to do right by Roberts.
My lips roll together as my teeth grind down.
“Silas . . .” Posey asks.
“She wouldn’t fucking dare,” I say, rage taking over the shock.
“Tates, maybe we get you out of bed, showered, talk about this,” Pacey suggests, but I shake my head.
“No, I need you to leave. Right fucking now.” My fists clench at my side.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Holmes says.
“I said fucking leave,” I yell, startling all three of them.
Pacey nods his head toward the door, and Holmes follows him. Posey hangs back for a second and says, “I’m here for you, Silas. If you need me, you just ask.”
I don’t say a word, I just stare at my phone, rage beating through me. What if this was Sarah? What if she had something to do with it?
Or what if . . . the girl I thought I fucking loved has decided to fuck me over . . . just like Sarah?
