It's been a week since Sebby last saw Quincy. A week since he last heard anything besides the 'call when I can' text Sebby got two days ago. A week since Quincy was called to the trap house about an emergency before Sebby got the chance to come clean.
As he paced around the tattoo parlor where he worked strictly as a sketch artist, he wasn't sure if the the nausea he was feeling was from the enormous anxiety that filled his stomach, or just from good old morning sickness.
Speaking of morning sickness, he'd been meaning to go see a doctor about the consistent ache that he kept feeling in his abdomen. But between puking his guts out all day, and his unwillingness to get out of bed most of the time, he hadn't gotten around to it.
The only reason he even forced himself today was because his boss threatened to fire him if missed another day of work, not that he really needed this job anyway. If he chose not to work a day in his life he'd still be covered financially, he's a trust-fund baby after all. He only did this because he loved to sketch, and to piss his father off.
His phone went off for the umpteenth time today, snapping him back to reality. He fought the urge to fling it across the room.
"What!?" He spat into the phone.
"Relax tiger, who spit in your coffee?"
"What do you want Brody?"
"Pfft...don't act dumb Seb, you know what I fucking want. I want to talk about what that drug dealer did to us."
"Stop calling him that."
"But that's what he is, isn't it? A lowlife scum masquerading as a club owner."
Sebby gripped the phone until he thought his knuckles might crack. "Fuck you Brody! What the fuck do you want?"
"That piece of shit nearly killed me." Brody said.
"You brought it on yourself."
"THE HELL I DID!!"
Sebby held the phone away from his ear at Brody's sudden outburst, feeling irritated. "Well, you got shit-faced and started acting a fool, what did you think would happen? Did you expect him to bake you a cake?"
Brody scoffed. "So you mean to tell me that you're willing to let that dirty drug dealer get away with giving us both black eyes?"
"What do you wanna do about it?"
"Sue the bastard, that's what!"
"Whatever man, knock yourself out."
Brody grunted. "You've fallen for him, haven't you? Did you fuck him?!"
Sebby had to take a deep breath to keep from loosing the last strand of sanity he had left.
"Who I fuck, or don't fuck is none of your damn business."
Brody made a weird sound. "Huh! I hope one of his stray bullets hits you one of these days, maybe then you'd realize how stupid you're being."
"Look, what you think or feel mean less than nothing to me," Sebby said in a blistering tone, he was starting to feel lightheaded. "All i want is to be left the fuck alone." With that he hung up the phone.
Brody was living proof that not all that glittered were gold.
Sebby wasn't sure what to do with the rest of his day, he'd already finished all the sketches his boss needed. He guessed he could get some lunch but all he wanted was chocolate frosting for some weird reason.
As he reached into his pocket to get his phone and try Quincy again, his phone was already going off.
"Go to hell, you bastard!" Sebby blurted into the phone.
"Sebby? Are you okay?" Sabrina asked in a worried tone.
"Yeah, um...yeah I'm okay. What's up?"
"Don't freak out, okay? but you need to get to the hospital now."
Sebby's heart sank.
YOU ARE READING
StaR-CrosseD🔱 {Book 1}
Romance-COMPLETED- As if being the Sheriff's son wasn't stressful enough, he had to go fall, and get knocked up by Lakewood notorious bad boy who used to be his nemesis in high school. And the fact that said bad boy doesn't feel the same way makes it even...
