Even so, I was confused because he looked beyond pissed. He looked enraged.
“Went to Tate,” he repeated.
“Okay,” I replied.
Suddenly he leaned forward in a way that made me lean back even though the island was between us and he barked, “Went to Tate, Lexie!”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Told me,” he went on and I shook my head, still confused.
“Told you what?”
“Told me you played me.”
My breath stuck in my throat.
Oh God.
Oh God.
“What?” I pushed through the breath clogging my throat.
“Couldn’t believe it, not you,” he replied.
“Ty –”
“Not you,” he repeated.
“Ty,” I whispered, I’d started trembling again, knowing this was bad, very bad, the worst and he moved, his long legs taking him to the stairs and I watched, still confused but also terrified. So terrified all I could do was stare at the stairs and not move.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Cataclysmically wrong.
And I knew what that wrong was.
And I wanted my feet to take me to the stairs so I could sort it out with Ty in private but I was so terrified of what I’d done and his reaction to it I couldn’t get my feet to move.
“I’ll talk to him,” Julius muttered but I still didn’t move though I saw him at the stairs because I was still staring at them.
And I stared at them feeling my breath stick in my throat, my heart beat hard and fast in my chest, my palms itch and my blood race, hot and frantic in my veins.
Then I saw legs and heard Ty rumble, “Not your gig, brother.”
“Walk, listen to me –”
“Not your f**kin’ gig,” Ty cut him off, rounded the stairs and came straight to the island.
On it he slammed down rolls of cash.
“Fifty K. Your pay. I’m outta here, you got an hour to get your sweet ass outta my house.”
Yes. Yes. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Cataclysmically wrong.
And I knew what it was. And I knew by his face he meant every word.
Still, I whispered a shaky, “What?”
“You played me, Lexie, you... f**kin’… played me,” he growled, leaning into me. “Goin’ to Tate and Deke behind my f**kin’ back. Spreadin’ for me to keep me distracted. Your pu**y’s got no chain?” he asked, his words pummeling me then he leaned back and clipped, “Bullshit. Just as heavy as all the f**kin’ rest.”