Chapter 72 Rhonda Is Gone

Chapter 72 Rhonda Is Gone
Gianna

Braide and Dmitry are sitting in the living room when I come downstairs and the specific quality of their silence tells me they have been talking about something neither of them is going to repeat.

I look between them. "Should I be worried?"

"No," they both say. At the same time. Which is somehow more alarming than if only one of them had said it.

Dmitry stands the second I reach the bottom stairs, not in a rush though. Just rising slowly like gravity adjusted itself around me arriving in the room. Which is something I've relatively noticed him doing lately.

He hands me a coffee without being asked. I inhale, letting the sweet aroma fill my senses before taking a sip.

I don’t care what anyone says—mocha is coffee, and the best kind of coffee.

The almond milk and dark chocolate melt across my tongue, and I shut my eyes, holding back a moan.

The perfect combination.

I feel both men’s gaze burning through my skin, nearly making me choke on the coffee.

Shit. There's no need to be that intense.

“So did you ask him?” I ask, settling into the armchair across from him. Dmitry stays standing, which is his way of giving us privacy without technically leaving.

Braide leans forward, elbows on knees.

“Well… that man over there,” He gestures at Dmitry then back at me. “He's as hard as a rock and seeing as Rhonda didn't confide in Roxy either I'm just at a loss for words.”

"I told you," I say, wrapping both hands around the mug. "He didn't tell me shit."

“That's…” he takes a pause. “He only said she was hysterical but other than that, not very forthcoming.”

The dry delivery makes me want to laugh. I don't. "I'm sorry about that.”

"That's why I'm back here talking to you." He tilts his head. "Did she say anything to you? Before last night, I mean?"

I think about the driveway last week. She delivered the most composed woman to woman speech with a smile like sugar dissolved in bleach.

“Sorta,” I say. “We met a couple of days ago.”

Dmitry stops pacing around immediately as the words leave my lips. Lovely, I thought I mentioned it to him.

"What did she say?" Braide asks.

“Just the usual,” I look at my coffee. “To stay away from Dmitry and stop leeching off him.”

Braide is quiet for a moment. Something moved across his face, before saying, “I'm so sorry about Rhonda. Turns out her growth was only ever physical.” He scoffs, the words plain and void of emotion like he's reading from a report. “You know how I mentioned your little boy toy stringing her? Yeah, it seems he still doesn't know how to cut off that fucking string.”

He shoots Dmitry a glare, but Dima’s eyes are on me with an unreadable expression.

I really can't believe I'm spending my morning here discussing Rhonda. Of all fucking people.

"Like pulling her here by midnight," I say.

"Yeah." He exhales. "Like that."

I look at him. "Why are we discussing this?"

He meets my eyes. “Because I think she's going to do something really stupid and this is my way of foreshadowing?”

The last bit comes out more like a statement and my throat goes dry. I didn't really think about that.

The room goes dead silent after Braide's words. This whole thing suddenly feels like a freaking thriller show.

Dmitry breaks the silence, his voice more controlled than I've heard it before. “I'll handle Rhonda.”

Yeah, the same old fucking mantra.

Braide looks at him over my head. "You've been handling Rhonda for five years. How's that working out?"

I can fucking kiss the life out of Braide for calling him out on his bullshit.

Every darn time it's the same fucking thing. How he'll handle Rhonda but never fucking does shit.

I stand up, tired of all of this, their eyes follow my movements as I set the mug on the table and say “Braide, thank you for warning me.” I mean it. “And I'm sorry about your nose.”

He touches his nose and grins. "Getting to see you was totally worth it."

I look at Dmitry, he stares back with the expression of a man trying to piece stuff together.

“I have lecture in an hour.” I go upstairs to get my bag without looking back.

I'm halfway up the stairs when my phone buzzes.

Roxy: is Braide with you?

Roxy: Rhonda is gone.

I stop walking.

Me: What do you mean gone?

Roxy: she packed a bag this morning and just left.

I stare dead at the screen and then I hear phone chimes downstairs, which means Roxy texted them at the same time.

There's a beat of silence, followed by Braide's quiet voice. “Fucking shit.”

I sit on the middle stairs, and think about a woman who loved someone for years, enjoyed scrapes of his love, just to get rejected over and over and over.

I can't judge, I mean I was in a similar situation. Only difference was Dmitry loved me. In his sick twisted way.

A frown settles on my face and I try not to cry from the memories of how long the man I love, because yes, I love Dmitry has hurt someone over and over again.

My phone buzzes again.

And my spirit jumps out of my skin, I think it's Roxy but the name makes me smile.

Tamer: How're you kitten? You never gave me a response

I look at the message, biting back my smile as I check below me where I hear Dmitry asking Braide where she might have gone.

I type back: just a really crazy morning. I went from cumming your video to separating a fight and now there just might be a missing person case coming up.

He replies in under ten seconds: Holy shit. But are you good?

Me: Kind of. I think it's time to go house hunting and stuff.