Spike (Spark Series #2) by Ryder Jennifer

Author:Ryder, Jennifer [Ryder, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jennifer Ryder
Published: 2014-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

9.02pm: Are you still coming home for dinner?

10:17pm: I don’t care if you’re late, baby.

Just let me know u r okay xox

I am such a dick. I press redial. It doesn’t even ring. It goes straight to voicemail. Fuck, I’ve really done it. She doesn’t wanna speak to me. Her sweet voice comes across on her voicemail message, like a harpoon through my chest.

“Eevie, baby. I’m sorry about last night. Please ring me back.”

I pace around my bedroom wondering what on earth I did. What I said to make her leave. I reread the note. Have a good think about what you said to me, and if me leaving is really going to solve this mess. Did I ask her to leave? Why the fuck would I do that?

I throw on my jeans and boots, and finally find my keys on the floor inside the front door. If she won’t answer the phone I have to find her. I can’t let her go.

I don’t even know where I’m heading, but I start making calls. Crystal first. She hadn’t spoken to Eevie all week. I call her brother, Chris. He was keen to lock in a weekend for the ride I promised to take him on, but eventually I got out of him that he hadn’t seen her.

Where else would she go? Cassie’s? Surely that’s where she is. But I don’t have her number. Or even know her last name. I think I remember Eevie talking about her house in O’Connor, not far from the city, but I have no clue where.

When I get this Ryan bloke’s phone number from Eevie, I’m gonna call him and sort this shit out. I’m not going down without a fight. My prick of a father is gonna find out that no one fucks with me, or the woman I love. I’ll meet with him, alright. Maybe I’ll bash in his skull. He won’t be able to hurt anyone when he’s dead.

Right now, I need to find my girl.

After driving up and down the streets for what feels like hours, trying Eevie’s number more times than I care to count, my heart thumps wildly when I find her car parked in a driveway in front of a cream brick house. The engine of my Ute roars as I pull in behind it.

My feet can barely keep up as I run, nearly knocking myself flat on my back as I skid on the loose rocks. I successfully negotiate around the terracotta pots filled with flowers, which are littered haphazardly around the porch.

“Eevie! You here?” I shout and pound my fist on the black timber door.

An achingly slow minute later the latch turns, and a not-too-impressed Cassie stands across the doorway in her pink, flannel pyjamas, arms folded across her chest. Even though she’s quite short, right now she’s towering over me. She steps closer. Her jaw is tense, and her cold brown eyes bore into me.

I am not welcome here.

I take a step back, and Cassie stands out on the front porch and closes the door gently behind her.

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