Anny's Library

07/08/2025

🔱HER. VICIOUS. MONSTER🔱

(His. Crazy. Obsession.🚬)

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Taming. His .Demons

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🖤 Anny's Library 2025.

Mary's pen/Anny's Library.

©️ No publication of this book is allowed to be reproduced or republished in any given, or written form without the direct order from the original writer. Anny's Library.

★★★★

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★★★★

Chapter 13&14.

★

Gigi couldn't believe her eyes, she stared gumb-struck at the new presence that's not so new anymore, even the silver distance between them felt like lead.

She looked back at James who had the most smug expression on his face, and her eyes turned back at no other person than Re*****on Paige.

Arlington's most trusted agent, a highly ranked officer, and a sworn follower of the city. This man had basically spent all his life defending Arlington's honor.

"Wow." Gigi blows out hot, still unable to believe her eyes. A law enforcement officer? Standing in her partially-illegal clubhouse. The same clubhouse the government are trying to bring down.

"I know." James said, coming to stand beside Gigi, his eyes never leaving Remi's.

Re*****on is standing before them with neither a laugh or smile on his face. His expression is as blank as a spade, it's hard to tell what's going on in his head, but one thing is for sure, he's here and that means he's with James.

"WOW." Gigi said louder this time, her mind sinking the fact of what she's seeing. She crossed her hands over her chest, a wonderment expression on her face. Disbelieve is also one of the features framing her face.

She's partially shocked out of her mind.

"You can say that again." James chuckled lightly, way too fuçking proud of himself. He extended his hand to Remi, who simply stared at it for a minute before looking back at the man, the devil himself, James.

"No need for formalities." Remi's voice is curt, a sharp bite in each syllable, his eyes landed on Gigi and he raised an eyebrow. "I'm here only because I need something in return for whatever service I'm going to be rendering to you both." He added, and Gigi's lips curved upward slightly.

What nerves.

The audacity, the fuçking utterance.

James tilted his head slightly, his eyes taking in the expression on Remi's face.

"You need Trisha out of the way." Remi continued when neither of them said anything. "And I need Trisha by side. I know your plans, you tried kîlling her." His eyes darkened as he slowly glared at Gigi in particular.

James's expression stayed neutral, he barely made a single movement when Remi dropped the bombshell, and so did Gigi, it was almost as if Remi hadn't accused them of attempted mûrder.

"How would you know that?" Gigi asked, keeping her face straight and plain.

Remi took a step forward, leaving just a little distance between himself and the wolves.

"You really think I wouldn't know? You really think I don't have my eyes on her at all times? Do you have any idea just how much she means to me?" Remi's question made Gigi laughed.

The action caught Remi off guard.

"What she means to you is none of our businesses. And seriously Paige. you need to mind the tone you use when speaking to us." Gigi snapped, chancing James a little stare.

"He doesn't want Trisha dèad." James said pointblank, hitting his point right at the middle of the case.

"Then what does he want?" Gigi asked, and Remi watched as they talked as if he wasn't standing right in front of them.

"I need Maverick King gone." Remi said, the words spilling out of his mouth, and almost realizing how clichè it was. But he immediately continued before any of them could say anything. "And in return, I'll tell you everything you need to know about Trisha's next move." He added, and James smirked.

So, he doesn't want Trisha dèad, but he wants to make sure she doesn't get in their way, and for that to happen, they'll help him In bringing down one of the King's brothers?

So, he doesn't just want to betray the entire city, but also his closest friend...

"I don't see her as just a friend." Remi immediately pulled them out from their thoughts. And they studied him. "I'll keep her away, and you'll make sure that he's gone."

"I don't have any business with the Kings." Gigi said, shrugging lightly. "Except for the fact that Nonna King is trying her hardest to set me up, but that's nothing I can't handle on my own." She added.

James studied him further, his eyes trailing from his head to his toes.

"But he could still be useful." James argued with Gigi. "We'll be needing to shove the Kings into their places once and for all anyways, they are starting to become a nuisance." He shrugged.

"This whole conversation doesn't make any sense. If he thinks he can blackmail us into helping him for his selfish intents, then he sure as hell doesn't know what he's dealing with." Gigi snapped, her eyes clashing with Remi's. "How sure are you that you'll be able to keep Trisha off our radar completely?. How sure are you that she wouldn't find a way back?" She asked.

"I have everything figured out, I wouldn't have come here if I didn't have a plan." Remi said, ignoring Gigi and facing James instead.

"I'll make sure she's as far away from you both as possible, only if you promise to do your part, and take down the youngest King." He said, and Gigi scoffed loudly.

"Why can't you take him down yourself? Why do you need us?" She asked.

"Because power recognizes power." Remi said, his eyes peering down at Gigi. "And I know you're the only ones who can actually take down him down." He added, and a little smile tipped James lips.

"This isn't just about Maverick King is it?" James asked, and Remi's eyes widened slightly.

"W-what are you talking about?" Remi balked.

James moved from beside Gigi, coming to stand in front of Remi and glaring down at him.

"How about you start telling us exactly why you're obsessed with bringing down the Kings?" James asked, and Remi's eyes widened slightly.

★

Ava stepped into the club and the buzzing filled her ears, she pushed past people, clubbers standing around, holding deep, red satin cups, the base of the music blasting from each corner of the room.

A small smile stretched across her face immediately she sighted Riven talking to Jace, they're both leaning on the counter, and Marcy was behind it, her eyes sighting Ava before the rest did.

"You're here." Marcy said out loud, looking behind Ava. "Where the fuçk is the other one?" She asked.

Riven turned towards Ava, and flashed her a little smile.

"Who's the other one?" Ava asked, waving at Jace. The guy simply nodded in response.

"Trisha." Marcy bites back. She leaned forward, stretching her body over the counter. "I don't see her."

"That's because I don't know where she is." Ava said, her brows knitted forward in a slight frown. She turned, facing Riven. "You've heard from her yet?"

"No, I haven't." Riven side, sighing deeply. "I'm pretty sure she's alright. You know how Trisha is." She added.

"She's an entitled bitçh, that's exactly what she is." Marcy scoffed, straightening up, her hair is tied up in a double ponytail, her equally red manicured nails tapping on the counter. "So arrogant. Just so you know, no one will be replacing her tonight on that fuçking stage." She added with a hiss.

"I was hoping to fill in for her." Riven offered, ignoring Marcy's bitter remarks. "She'd do the same thing for me anytime." She shrugged.

"How sweet." Marcy feigned affection. Rolling her eyes. "Nobody is filling in for her."

"Why do you sound so bitter?" Jace asked, looking at Marcy mockingly. "You sound like a real hater right now." He added.

"Nobody asked you to chime in on this conversation, Jace." Marcy retorted, glaring at him. "I can't hate on someone who's literally beneath me, I'm just saying though. She needs to understand why we have rules."

"But Gigi kicked her out last night." Ava muttered.

"Last night, Ava." Marcy repeated slowly. Snapping her fingers in the air. "That was like almost 17 hours ago. Why didn't she report back this morning?." Marcy questioned.

"She's beneath you, but you're the one behind the counter." Jace cooed, nodding while trying not to laugh. "How ironic."

"Shut your wide, àss mouth up." Marcy scoffed, looking away from Jace. "Does Gigi know she's almost late?" Marcy asked.

"I suppose." Riven muttered, looking at Ava. "One of us has to fill in for Trisha." She offered.

"And then who's gonna fill in for you?" Marcy asked, her judgemental eyes glaring at them. "Why don't you two for once, relax and think about yourselves, instead of someone else who probably doesn't deserve it." She added.

"Alright, just cut it out." Ava's eyes hardened into a glare. "I don't like your attitude." She retorted.

"Yeah, you're literally stooping too low, even for yourself." Riven pointed out, and Marcy gasped lightly.

"Is this about your little argument about the Kings?" Jace asked, and Marcy glared at him, her eyes sending poisonous daggers to his chest.

"You weren't even here when it happened." Riven voiced out.

"I never left completely, I might have heard a few things, like a bet for instance." Jace is definitely trying to get Marcy angry. "Why didn't y'all seal the deal?" He asked.

Marcy narrowed her eyes at him, before smiling lightly.

"Because it would have been embarrassing if Marcy had lost." Riven said before Marcy could even respond.

"Wait what?" Marcy sounds genuinely offended. "You think I would have lost?" She asked, wanting to believe she'd heard wrong.

"I mean it's pretty obvious." Jace said, nudging Riven. "You think anyone would want to be with you?" He asked, chuckling lightly. "I'm a guy, and I'm not even attracted to you." He added.

Marcy let's out a little laugh, hitting the counter twice before leaning over the counter.

"I wouldn't even wish for my enemy to end up with you, and that says a lot." She snarked, and Jace scoffed. "And back to the main topic, Trisha chickened out of the bet, she avoided it, and refused to even stand up for herself when I suggested it. So ya see, she's scared."

"I don't Trisha is scared of anything." Ava said, her eyes flitterd to the side, catching the double door opening and when the person emerging from the door came out fully, her eyes widened slightly.

She blinked hard, momentarily distracted from the conversation, her entire focus on Remi weavering through bodies, he suddenly pivoted, heading to the entertainment center.

"What is he doing here?" Ava didn't even know she said her thoughts out loud, there was silence. And then Riven followed her line of sight.

"That's Re*****on Paige." Riven said, her eyes swooning a bit before she recollected her senses. "What is he doing here?" She asked the real question.

Remi followed the straight path in the entertainment center, and the manager over there stopped him before he got further, they talked for a minute, and suddenly the managers eyes snapped toward the reception area.

His eyes landed on Marcy.

"I think he's placing a request..." Marcy trails off, her phone vibrated against the counter, and she slowly swiped it up. She opened the device, and her eyes widened slightly.

"What is happening?" Jace asked, watching as Remi and the manager climbed up the stage, and disappeared behind the large curtain.

He's in his uniform, in a clubhouse?

"He's making a request." Marcy read through her phone. "A VIP request." She added.

Suddenly, the other's phones beeped, and Jace was the first person to reach for his.

"What the hell?" Riven muttered.

"All dancers have been pulled out for tomorrow night." Ava read, that's her shift tomorrow, Trisha and the others were supposed to take the stage tonight, but she's not here.

"What's happening tomorrow night?" Riven asked, lowering her hands.

"I'm not sure what it is exactly. But it's definitely something big." Marcy said, her grip tightened on her phone.

★

Trisha slowly slipped into the new coral design dress Maverick got for her, it's a deep red, fitting, and exactly her size. The length is just above her knees, accentuating the outline from each side.

It had a deep V neck too, the long, diagonal cut slicing through the middle, showing off the perfect outer curve of her breasts, and just the right amount of cleavage. She stepped back, the new standing mirror at the corner showing off her full height.

She might have underestimated him, but Maverick got the exact same size of her dresses, and it's weird because she could offhandedly count the number of dresses she had, which only meant she hardly wears them.

But this is the perfect, accurate measurement of her size. The chest isn't too tight, and the waist is also breathable. The size is normal, and it's just fitting.

How on earth did he know that?

She reached behind her with her two hands bent backward, trying to reach the two end of the zipper, she gripped the hem, lining up the zipper with it's other side, but she was only able to zip it up to the middle of her back.

She worried her lip. Jutting her spine inward, and trying to get the zipper higher, she released a strained breath as she got on her tippy toes, struggling to to zip it up.

At this point, most of her stubborn curls had completely covered her pretty face, and she could barely see herself in the mirror, she huffed, only getting a few strands off, but they fell right back.

"Piece of shît." She grumbled, hissing under her breath.

The door opened, and she immediately felt his intoxicating scent waffling straight into her greedy nostrils. She ignored his strong presence, and the fact that her heart skipped a beat because of it. It's been doing that for over a decade now, but she still finds it annoying.

He's annoying.

At first, it was just silence, and her sounds of struggling.

It almost felt like he didn't even enter the room, and she almost got hyper-aware of everything, but decided to brush it off because he's not important.

At least that's exactly what she kept telling herself.

Light footsteps echoed, each turning deeper the closer it gets, and she swallowed deep, feeling his presence lingering behind her, and she tried ignoring.

Damn, she tried.

But the feel of his hands grabbing her wrists and slowly pulling apart, had her startling lightly. He has no problem touching her. But he forbids her touch like she's some kind of disease he doesn't want to get infected with.

"You don't need to touch me." Trisha murmured, pulling her hands forward, and smoothing her gingered colored hair backward. The cute cutting at the middle had faded, that's why they're messing around. She made a mental note to style it again.

"You were struggling." Maverick muttered, his strong hands slowly grabbing the lapels, he aligned with the zipper and slowly dragged upwards. Too slowly that she felt everything like 3D.

"You could have just ignored me." She huffed, feeling the end of the zipper click in place, and the next thing she knows, he literally digged both hands into her hair, she rolled her eyes, feeling his long fingers tracing her scalp.

It's surprisingly not bad. Her long eyelashes lowered a little bit.

"Ignoring you is harder than you think." He said, pulling his hands out, he stared at his palms, the thick oil shining on his skin and the fruity scent. Like Olive Peanuts. The fragrance is sweet and completely demure.

Unlike the person applying it on her hair.

No wonder her curls are so soft.

He dipped his hands into his hair and rubbed. He had soft hair too, even softer than Trisha's, but something about his sick urge to always smell her around him nagged his mind uncontrollably.

"So, you do think your life would be completely boring without me?" She asked, staring at him through the mirror, he's putting on a new shirt and gray pants. His ten fingers are always adorned with colorful rings.

She waited for a response, and when she didn't get one, she slowly turned around to face him.

They spent the entire morning bickering on and on. And finally, his male assistant manager— heavy on the male— brought in the new stuff she'd damaged during the afternoon for replacement. He had a few other people with him, and they completely replaced all of the broken stuff.

His closet had been fixed, even his toothbrushes she'd flush down the toilet, and his stupid collections of expensive shampoo. But she made sure to sniff said shampoo before flushing.

It smelled like mint, the type that actually burns, her eyes had watterd instantly after she had sniffed it greedily.

And still standing here right now, it just clicked that they haven't had anything to eat. She pursed her lips, she had ice cream, but she was still a starving mess. But Maverick hadn't eaten since she arrived unannounced.

What the fuçk?

She knew he had bad eating habits. She had noticed his picky attitude when it comes to foods. But that was three months ago before he shoved her out of his life ruthlessly. And besides, he had never given them the opportunity to actually know each other.

Not during their junior high school years.

Not during their highschool years.

Not even in different colleges.

And certainly not now.

He had successfully built strong walls around himself. They are literally made from his soul.... Tall and unreachable, impenetrable.

"You've been quiet." She pointed out, crossing both hands over her chest.

Maverick studied her for a minute too long, his eyes soaking up her presence, and how hawt she looked in just a simple dress. She was blessed with a body meant to distract and draw attention. She's not the showing off type. But with a body like hers. It's effortless.

He shakes his head subtly.

Mixing obsession with need is a definite recipe for disaster. If he allowed his eyes take in any more details, then he'll definitely be acting on his needs, and that would only fuel his obsession.

And hurting her was the last thing on his mind, he'll never survive losing her.

"I got you something." He finally voiced out, and Trisha raised her eyebrows.

"You got me something?" She repeated, looking slightly excited, and annoyed by the fact that she's already excited.

"Yep." Maverick muttered, pausing for a minute to stare at the her face, studying her expression.

"You know I'm not the patient type. Spill." She urged, jutting her chin up at him.

Maverick sighed, reaching behind him and pulling something from his pocket, her eyes narrowed slightly as his hand reappeared with a huge multicolored box. A mixture of Blue, White and Black.

He pushed the box between them, and she studied it carefully, taking in the design of the box, and what could possibly be inside of it, it's probably anyone's guess because she immediately figured it out.

Her eyes clashed with Maverick's, and he was already staring at her. As if he was expecting the expression on her face.

"You got me a new phone?" She asked, she only told him about the dress because she'll be needing it to leave the house soon. But she never asked him to replace her phone he damaged.

"I ruined your old one..." He trails off with a shrug.

"On purpose." She bites back, pulling away from him slightly. "I don't need you to replace it." She said, eyeing the carton. From the designs alone, she could tell how madly expensive the phone was. She hated it instantly.

Maverick's frown deepened slightly. He grabbed her hands that's crossed over her chest, pulling her right palm out and shoving the carton on it, she bellowed slightly, dropping her hand and the carton hits the floor.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

He should have thought better of it when he broke her phone, acting all caveman and shît. But she's not going to accept a new one that easily. He'll have to realize that she'll never let him have his way easily.

"I'm leaving." Trisha said, staring at her bare feet. "I couldn't find my boots in the elevator, you took 'em?" She asked, funny how she got a dress and forgot to add shoes. But it doesn't matter if she already had something else.

Maverick simply rolled his eyes, walking away from her and towards his bed. He dropped on the soft foam, his body almost dipping, and he brought out his phone.

Trisha's face grew hot at his ignorance. She grabbed the carton from the floor, approaching him, and tossing it at his head.

Maverick moved his head sideways just in time as the device bounced off the pillow, and fell beside him on the bed, he stared lazily at it for a minute before retracting his eyes back to his phone, completely ignoring her question.

"Mav!" She called out, frustration bubbling inside of her. She needs to leave, it's bad enough she hadn't showed up at work today, and it's almost evening, and Gigi would definitely be suspicious— she already is, but there's no need to add to it.

He ignored her completely.

"Maverick!" She shouted again. She had checked everywhere for her boots, but she couldn't find them. The last place she saw them were inside the elevator, she'd checked the closet, the lower rooms, even Landon and Lily's playroom, but nothing was there.

And that only means one thing.

Maverick took them.

She closed the distance between them, swiping his phone in a very fast motion that Maverick couldn't beat, and she stared at the screen, her breathing hitched instantly.

If she was expecting him to quickly grab his phone back, then he doesn't. Because he just watched her with a smirk on his face. That dubious smile is contagious.

He's not on any app, but rather the wallpaper of his darn phone is glaring back at her hotly. Her throat dried up instantly as she stared.

And it was almost as if she was teleported back in time.

When did he even take this picture, and she didn't notice?

His gym room looked way darker than it was, blurring with the background, it's almost as if he took the picture in a haste, but it still captured everything. The perfect equipments were fully arranged, and the thick rope used in tying the punching bag was slightly lowered, that was because it was carrying the weight that was much heavier than it's wits.

It was carrying her.

"You sick pervert." She bristles. Hissing under her breath, but her cheeks grew hot. Way too hot. Her fingers curled up on his phone, and memories upon memories flashed through her mind.

"Can I have my phone back?" He mused, sitting up properly, his upper body leaning against the headboard. He lazily stared at her flushed face, the creamy color looking even more edible.

She looked edible.

"How could you possibly keep something like this on your phone?" She hissed, staring at the screen again because she refused to let it black out. Although it's hard to tell what exactly is on his screen, but she knows. And if carefully checked, anyone else would figure it out too.

"Nobody ever touches my phone. Ever." He said, before a dangerous smirk tugged his lips. "Your secret is safe with me." He added, and she finally tossed his phone back at him.

"I don't have a damn secret." She hissed, and his eyes narrowed up at her. "It's just weird coming out."

"Sure." He said, his lips quaking, and trying to stifled his laughter. "Sure you don't. I'm most definitely sure you don't."

"Okay, now you're just being a dîckhead, literally." She scoffed.

"Glad you find me attractive." He murmured, and she rolled her eyes.

"Give me my boots, I'm leaving." She said, repeating her earlier statement. He rolled his eyes, stepping down from the bed, he crouched on his knees, shoving his hands under the bed and pulling out her boots.

Okay, maybe she lied a little when she said she had searched everywhere for them.

She slowly puts them on, smiling at herself when they somehow matched her dress. It's black, and black goes with anything in all sense.

Her Sim card laid on the nightstand, she'd removed it after discarding the broken device. She took it.

She shoved it between the deep V neckline on the side, and it snapped right back into place.

She'll be needing to stop at Gigi's immediately. No side turns, no cutouts.

"Bye, perv." She said, heading for the door with a satisfied smirk on her face.

She'd successfully ruined almost twenty hours of his life, the frustration etched on his face is a solid proof to that claim. And who knows, maybe she'll be back.

Maybe not.

She grabbed the k**b, twisting it down and ready to push open, when a larger hand beats her to it, it pressed against the door, slamming it back shut, and she turned around sharply to glare at Maverick.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying and failing to hide her smile.

He doesn't want her to leave, how cute?

Had she completely gotten under his skin, or would she still need to try harder. To make him insufferable, and unable to resist her tempt.

But the look in his eyes says she still had a long way to go. And God, does she love the challenge.

"You forgot something." He said, and she raised her eyebrows incrediously. Before she could even react, he lowered his body, grabbing the underside of her thighs, and hoisting her up like she weighed nothing.

As if he's lifting air, only she isn't slipping between his fingers, but rather, her traitorous legs are winding up around his waist. Her back is pressed against the door, and she refused to clutch onto his shoulders for full balance. She doesn't even need to.

Fuçker.

Why is he so composed?

Maverick is a blôody mess, a disorganized man. But around her, he seemed to have everything under his control, even his impulsive nature... Well, not sure about that though.

Without saying a word, he produced the carton of the new phone he got her, and that's when she realized why he had her pinned to the door.

Blôody sucker.

He didn't want her to escape without it.

She wiggled her body, trying to push him off, but his hips are pinning her exactly where he wants her to be. And why is that a turn on?

He's not even holding onto her as he slowly unboxed the device, and he dropped it carelessly, looking up at her.

"I said...."

"What you said doesn't really matter, Cookie." He cuts her off, reaching between the thick line where she'd hid her Sim card and pulled it out, her eyes widened slightly.

"I'm not taking it." She gulped, watching as he clipped the sim pact open, inserting it and powering the device on. She'll definitely need to be charging it before use, and that's exactly what she's going to do. He's not giving her a second option.

"Then you're not leaving." He bites out sharply.

"You can't keep me here against my will." She huffed, watching as the screen lightened up, fuçk, the model of the device is crazy.

"Wanna find out?" He snarked.

"I don't think I would wanna stick around for that." She said, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Then take it."

"Nope."

"Trisha." His warning is sharp.

She swallowed deep, staring at his hands between their swashed bodies and slowly took it. She felt the sleek texture between her fingers and a tingle ran down her spine.

"I hate you." She grumbled.

"Not more than I hate you." He said, lowering her back to the ground, and she steadies herself.

A dubious smile tipped her lips as she checked out the new phone, it's compacted, the sleek cover in a deep blue color, and the size is two times longer than her previous one.

"You do know I'll just have Brent's number all over again, right?" She teased, looking up at him, the back of her head almost touching the door.

Instead of the usual frustration, or annoyance she'd expected to see on his face, a rather quirky smile of his own almost blinded her eyes. And her smile faded instantly.

"Brent Hathaway?. Isn't that his full name?" Maverick asked, and Trisha's jaw slackened in an instant. Her eyes are round with enough surprise to last her a lifetime.

What the hell?

How did he know?

"What have you done?" Trisha asked, her own anger resurfacing.

"I told you I'll find out who he was. And trust me, I'm getting closer than you think." Maverick muttered, raising his hand and slowly cupping her cheek, her skin heated with his touch, even though she was damn angry. "Hide him all you want, but nothing gets past me, you understand?"

"Maverick..."

"Shush." He cooed, cutting her off mid sentence, her disbelieve is very evident.

Yeah, she knew the Kings had everything under their golden thumb. But she didn't know just how much they had. Or how deep their roots were. She only said Brent's first name, and now, she's pretty sure he knows his favorite color.

"I won't hurt him, as long as you promise not to push me to, you got that?" He asked, and she je**ed her head out of his touch.

"You're lying." She called him out, and a heartfelt chuckle escaped Maverick's lips.

"Damn, you know me so well." He praised, and her insides coiled backward. "It's a fuçking turn on."

This bastard.

★

(Riley's Resident)

The home office comes into perfect view. It's just like every other regular offices. It has a large table and double chair on each side.

The walls are painted gray, the wall-to-wall windows soring high, and the ceilings adorned with lights. It's temperature is stable, and the TV projector screen displayed at the far end of the right side.

Rory stepped into the home office, she's dressed in a casual wear, her hoodie top flipped over her head, and she had both hands tucked into the side pockets. The warmth immediately enveloped her as she sighted Riley getting ready for their training.

She'd been working tirelessly in other to take over from her Dad. And Riley had been of immense help over the last three months.

As if sensing her presence, Riley raised her head, a pretty smile curling her lips, and she stopped what she was doing.

"Hi." Rory muttered, dropping before Riley, the huge table separated them.

Riley's eyes racked over Rory's face, the off mood is evident, and she looked sunken. Like she'd been thinking a whole lot lately.

"Hey." Riley answered. "Are you okay?" She asked.

Rory feigned confusion, the lines on her forehead creasing into a deep frown right between her eyebrows.

"I'm fine." Rory muttered. "I would have called earlier, but I'm not just in the right frame of mind to study." She said, smiling sheepishly. "Where's Knox?" She asked.

The first thing Riley noticed was that Rory just made an excuse for her decision. And that's not something she does, because according to her, she doesn't owe anyone an explanation.

Secondly, she's clearly lying.

And thirdly, she just asked of Knox. She had never done that before too.

And that means she's very worried, or probably sick.

"Are you done lying to me?" Riley asked, and Rory balked. "If you're done, you might wanna tell me why you're putting on a hoodie in this current weather?" She added, it's kinda hot today, unlike most days in Arlington.

"I just feel like dressing this way." Rory muttered.

"You could have just called to cancel the class. But you choose to come here by yourself, and that obviously means you have something bothering that you're not so sure about sharing." Riley called her out, and Rory blinked repeatedly.

The silence between them stretched like a rubber band, threatening to snap, and bolt Rory right out of the office. She pulled her hands out of her pockets, her beautiful fingers splayed out on the edge of the table as she gripped onto it tightly.

Would Riley find her weird?

Most people would. I mean, situations like this aren't very acceptable by the society.

"Emily went out." Rory muttered, her voice was way too low and Riley wouldn't have heard a thing if she wasn't listening already.

According to her predictions, Maverick had reached out to Riley last night and told her about Trisha's whereabouts. And of course, Riley told the girls that Trisha was fine. So, that can't be the reason why Rory looked sick.

"With who?" Riley asked carefully, not wanting to push her too much or press for more.

Rory casted her eyes downward, her finger nails digging into the edge of the table, one of her manicured nails broke, but she simply ignored it.

But Riley didn't. Her eyes bulged slightly as she watched.

"Some guy she met at the King's party months ago." Rory huffed under her breath.

After she had dragged Emily's drunken head back to the house—courtesy of Maverick's mixture like she'd said. Emily had said she didn't know who the guy was, or what he was like.

But she was wrong.

"Okay?" Riley drawled out, she pushed herself closer to the edge of her seat. "How's that a problem?" She asked.

Rory stared at her unblinkingly for a whole minute straight.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Rory asked, and if that didn't caught Riley off guard.

She'd never seen Rory looked so vulnerable.

That fire that never seemed to quench, is dulling today.

She looked like she swallowed a bag of salt and was forced to chug it down with raw eggs. She looked sick, unfairly so.

"Sure. I'm listening." Riley said, trying not to lose her shît.

Rory paused for a moment, completely unsure if opening up was a good idea. But it's been years now, and she's still clueless.

"Before you met Knox, have you ever had any strange feeling towards..." Rory paused, thinking of a better way to phase her question. "Girls?" She added.

There was silence.

Complete, utter shock written over Riley's face.

Rory groaned loudly, covering her face with both hands while muttering. "I knew it was a bad idea."

Riley could barely find her words, it was as if all possible form of communication has been ripped off her, and now she's just dumbfounded.

Completely shocked. In HD version.

"Please don't look at me like that." Rory gritted out when she lowered her hands.

"Rory." Riley breathed out, forcing a smile on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm just asking a question, you asked if anything was bothering me, and now you're stalling." Rory's voice penetrates through the air. Holding Riley's lungs hostage.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that question." Riley chuckled incrediously. "Where are all these coming from? Are you perhaps into girls now, after being straight your whole life?" Riley asked, and Rory pushed off her seat.

The panic rising inside of her roared into life, and now it's almost as if she can't breathe.

"That's the thing." Rory called out, and Riley blinked repeatedly, while watching her. "I was never into anything." She added.

"What?" Riley asked, looking even more confused.

"I think I have a problem." Rory whispered.

★

WELL, THE HIGHER THE ENGAGEMENTS, THE LONGER THE CHAPTERS.

★

TBC.

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