The Rules (Moving the Chains) by Kata Čuić

The Rules (Moving the Chains) by Kata Čuić

Author:Kata Čuić [Čuić, Kata]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-29T18:30:00+00:00


This is torture. I don’t have this much self-control. No one does. It’s inhuman. It’s…torture.

Evie sighs. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I glare at her and Rob, spooning on their bed. “Mind your business, Papageorgiou, or I’ll mind it for you.”

“Watch it,” Rob growls.

“Fuck off, Falls.” I resume pacing the room. Repeatedly walking in front of the TV they’re watching isn’t even enough of a distraction.

Rob sighs, too. Swear to shit, their sighs are even starting to sound the same. It’s fucking weird. He whispers loud enough for me to hear, “He always gets like this during a dry spell. Just ignore him. Mike and I have been doing it for years.”

“I am not in a dry spell!” I yell. To the people who are less than a yard away from me. Hopefully, the whole floor heard that. Or not, now that I think about it.

“Really?” Rob draws out. “Then, prove it. Sit the fuck down and do…something else. Anything else.”

“Fine.”

It’s actually a great idea. I sit at my desk and palm my phone, then bring up all my favorite apps. Fuck me. Or not. No one is online. I have at least twenty girls lined up. How the hell is not a single one of them available on a Wednesday at eight at night? What? Do they spend their weeknights actually doing homework instead of scrolling their phones? Lame. I erase their contact info. I don’t want to fuck someone like that anyway.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” Evie suggests. She sniffs. Abnormally loud. “You smell like sex. And you’re still wearing the same sweatpants three days later.”

That’s a low blow. One I do not need pointed out to me. I literally bite my tongue to keep from lashing out that this room never smells like sex even though they sleep here together every goddamn night.

“How long have you two been together now?” This is such an asshole move, but I just can’t stop myself. It’s better than thinking about why I can’t bother to change my damn pants.

“A little over a year,” Evie says at the same time Rob says, “Four hundred and five days and six hours.”

“You’re such a dork,” she giggles.

“You love that I’m a dork,” he responds without missing a beat.

I gag. For multiple reasons.

Number one—Evie Papageorgiou doesn’t giggle. She hasn’t since our junior year of high school. My best friend’s girlfriend has been dealt such a shit hand in life that it honestly makes me feel like a spoiled little prick to even have any issues.

I would have a few less if it wasn’t for her, actually.

Our senior year, she was brutally assaulted and left for dead on the side of the trail behind our high school. That’s after she was date-raped by her boyfriend junior year.

Yeah. Twice in one lifetime. Like I said—shitty deal.

What the fuck does that have to do with me?

Easy. I carried the near lifeless, beaten, bloodied body of her second attacker two miles up the trail with Mike after Rob mauled the guy.



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