Chapter 6 ~ 6

Chapter 6 

~ Hay ~

"Heyyy, I'm so glad you called! Drake made me do that, I didn't—"

"I need you to do something," Chris cut me off before I could even finish my breath.

No are you okay? No I missed you. Just a cold, sharp blade of an order.

A tiny, uncomfortable knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Yes, Drake had orchestrated that absurd selfie to mess with him, but the sheer ice in Chris’s tone sent a sudden chill straight down my spine.

"What is it, Chris?" I asked, pulling the phone flush against my ear. My heart was pounding, but it wasn't just panic anymore—it was a sudden, flickering edge of suspicion.

"If you're actually sorry, and if you care about me like you claim you do, you need to sneak out right now," Chris demanded. His voice was flat, rigid, devoid of a single drop of warmth. "Meet me at the end of the estate street. Right by the tree line."

I blinked, staring out my window at the pitch-black sky. "What? Chris, it’s almost midnight. The gates are locked, and…"

"I don't give a damn about the gates, Hay!" Chris snapped, his voice exploding through the speaker. I flinched, pulling the phone away as my skin prickled with heat. "You let another guy put his arms around you and sent me a picture. You humiliated me. So if you want us to be okay, you get your ass down here right now. Or don't bother calling me ever again."

Click.

A second later, my phone buzzed in my hand with a follow-up text from him:

“And since you’re stuck in the Fletcher mansion, use your head for once. Jonathan keeps an old family crest and city history book in his private study downstairs. Bring it when you come over tomorrow. Prove to me you’re on my side and not playing house with Drake.”

My eyebrows pulled together as I stared down at the glowing screen. A book from Jonathan's private study? It was a weird, almost frantic request to tack onto a midnight ultimatum. But right now, I didn't have time to process it—I needed to get down to those gates and look Chris in the eye.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the black screen.

A hot tear spilled over my eyelash, but as it traced down my cheek, a sudden wave of anger wiped away the sadness. Get your ass down here?

After two and a half years of dating, after ditching me at prom, picking Felicia as queen, and making me take an Uber home while he went out to "party," he was treating me like a dog he could whistle for in the middle of the night?

He wasn't acting like a heartbroken boyfriend. He was acting like a furious owner whose property had been touched.

No, I thought, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I'm going down there. Not to beg. But to look him in the eye and figure out what the hell is actually going on between us.

I kicked off my house slippers and laced up my sneakers, pulling a dark hoodie over my head. I slipped out of my room, navigating the grand, silent halls of the Fletcher mansion like a shadow. I crept down the spiral staircase, past the dark kitchen, and eased open the heavy side patio door into the biting night air.

The midnight cold hit me like a splash of ice water, but my mind was clearer than it had been all week. I hurried across the damp lawn toward the tall, ornate iron gates.

I reached out a hand for the heavy iron latch—

"Running away so soon, stepsister?"

I spun around on my heel, my pulse spiking.

Drake was leaning casually against the massive stone pillar, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He wasn't wearing a jacket—just a dark t-shirt and pants—yet even from three feet away, an unnatural wave of heat radiated off his body, slicing right through the freezing wind.

"Get out of my way, Drake," I hissed, keeping my voice to a sharp whisper. "I'm leaving."

"At midnight?" He raised a dark eyebrow, a slow, mocking smirk playing on his lips. His blue eyes caught the moonlight, burning with an intense, strange light. "To go meet the coward who couldn't even drive you home from prom?"

"Don't talk about him like you know him!" I snapped, taking a firm step toward him, refusing to shrink back. "The only reason he's furious right now is because you used me to pull a sick stunt! You stole my phone, took that picture, and sent it to provoke him. You don't give a damn about me—I'm just a weapon for you to hit him with!"

Drake didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.

The smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden, heavy stillness. He pushed himself off the pillar and took a single, deliberate step into my space.

Instantly, the air between us completely altered. The oxygen vanished from my lungs, replaced by a thick, intoxicating scent—fresh rain on hot pavement, cedarwood, and rich leather. It wrapped around my senses so intensely my knees threatened to buckle.

"I didn't ruin anything, Hayden," Drake murmured, his voice dropping into a low, raspy growl that vibrated straight through my chest.

He reached out, his long fingers wrapping around my wrist to keep me from the gate.

The second his skin brushed mine, a literal spark shot up my arm.

It was a sharp jolt of electricity, surging through my bloodstream and detonating in my chest. I gasped, staring down at his hand. His skin felt like a living furnace—scorching hot, yet it didn't burn.

I looked up at him, breathless. For a fraction of a second, his striking blue eyes flared a bright, dangerous, predatory amber.

"He doesn't care about you," Drake growled, his grip firm, holding me anchored to the spot. "He's using you to get to me. You're walking right into a trap."

I stared into those glowing eyes, feeling the terrifying, magnetic pull threatening to drag me closer to his chest. But instead of wilting under his intense aura, I dug my heels into the gravel and locked my gaze with his.

"And you're using me to get to him," I countered, my voice tight, sharp, and steady despite the chaos in my veins. "You two are playing some sick hockey territorial war, and you both think I'm too stupid to see it."

Drake's eyes widened slightly, caught completely off guard by the edge in my voice.

Before he could tighten his grip, I drove my thumb hard into the nerve cluster on the back of his hand. His fingers twitched, loosening for a split second—and I yanked my wrist free, taking a quick step backward toward the iron latch.

"I'm going out these gates because I want to see him. He is my boyfriend.," I said, glaring at him as I threw the heavy latch open.

Drake stepped forward, his dark eyes locking onto mine with lethal authority. "Go back inside, Hayden. Because if you walk down that road tonight, I won't be here to pick up the pieces when he breaks you."

"I don't need you to pick up my pieces," I spat back.

I pulled the heavy gate open, turned my back on his heat, and walked out into the pitch-black night.