Chapter 10

                                    

                                          

"You cheating motherfucker!" Booker boomed, leaping off of the couch as if it had been lit on fire. "You always fucking do that."
"And yet you fall for it. Every single time." Maverick taunted him, gaze still magnetized to the TV screen that hung on the wall of the Hockey House living room.
"Yeah, because I keep giving you the benefit of the doubt." Booker stabbed at the game controller with his thumbs. "I thought you had integrity."
"I don't need integrity. I need to win," Maverick grunted, hitting the buttons with a little more force than necessary.
"Spoken like a true asshat."
"Would you two shut up?" Easton bellowed from the kitchen. His broad back had been facing us for the last forty-five minutes while he sat at the island. His laptop was open, a wall of script danced across the screen. Once upon a time I used to ask him about his coding projects, but the explanations often gave me a headache. "I'm trying to work on an assignment and you aren't exactly whispering."
"Sorry, man. It's all him," Maverick stated as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
Booker broke his concentration to gap at his teammate. "All me? I wouldn't be tearing you a new one if you actually played the game properly."
"Don't play properly? Seems to me that I've won every single round against you tonight. Clearly I know what the fuck I'm doing."
Booker dropped the game control down onto the couch. It bounced a couple of times before resting on the black pleather seat. "You're a fucking cheat."
"Cry about it some more, will ya?"
I sucked in a breath, internally debating whether or not I should slip out while I could. My turn had long since been forgotten and at this point I was going to lend myself as a witness to a murder. As I was considering heading back up to my room and attempting to crack open a textbook, my phone vibrated from deep within my pocket.
Thankful for the distraction, I drug it out of my jeans. 
"Hello?" I answered, not even bothering to check the caller ID.
 "Hendrix?" The tremor in her voice had me standing from the couch. 
"Ella?" I responded, brow furrowing. "Is everything okay?"
Instead of answering my question she answered with her own. "Would you be able to come pick me up?"
"Where are you?" I was already stalking towards the front door. The chaos from the living room had simmered down into mumbles of concern. 
She let out a shaky breath. "I'm fifteen minutes from campus, at Cali's boyfriend's house."
"Are you safe?"
Time slowed as I waited for her to respond. I needed to know she was okay. But what if she wasn't? Would I be able to get to her in time? I slipped my keys off the front entrance table.
"Yeah," she swallowed. "I am now."
Concern burrowed deep within my chest at the inclination that she was in trouble at some point that night. "Send me the address. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Drive safe."
If I wasn't so worried I might have laughed. She was the one in trouble, yet she was cautioning me to be careful? I didn't waste time with a reply. I cut the call short and jammed my phone back into my pocket. I didn't even bother with a coat. My boots were halfway on when I slipped out the front door, lacing dangling as I rushed out of the house and down the driveway. Seconds after the front door slammed shut it behind me it clicked open again.