Page 125 of The Other Side

A shiver ripples across my back. I lift my palms to lay over her bare breasts, connecting my lips to her temple. Before grazing a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her neck. “God, I lo⁠—”

Distant snickers rumble from the near distance.

Both our heads whip to the right. Callie’s hands immediately pluck her bra up to cover her breasts, and I ease her off me.

My hand rests on top of the bed frame, eyes scanning the murkiness of the open field. That’s when I notice a flash of movement by the silhouette of a tall tree.

“Hey!” I shout.

My hands nudge Callie’s legs away, and I’m scooting off the bed of my truck. All the while hiking my boxer briefs and pants up.

“Oh my god. Run!”

When I hear the young voice, my legs kick into action. I zip and buckle my pants around my waist, squinting as I sprint toward the shifting shadowy figures.

My boots are heavy on the grass, but my legs accelerate. Until the backsides of a young boy and girl sharpen into focus.

They have to be teenagers, given their height, and my palm wraps around the boy’s upper arm. “What the hell are you doin’?” I grit out, spinning him around.

His movement ices over just as I release him, his brown eyes gaping. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. P-please don’t hurt me.”

“Sir, please. We didn’t know.”

My brows crease, and I drag my attention to the redhead beside him. She holds her palms in front of her, her chest heaving under her short-sleeve shirt. Just as her hazel eyes flash with fright.

I lick my lips, jaw tightening as I rest my palms on my hips. “You with this kid?”

“We’re friends, sir,” she answers.

“Oh,” I say, panning my head back in the boy’s direction. “Well, you and your friend have some apologizing to do.”

The boy’s hands lift. “I said I was sorry.”

“Not to me. I don’t give a shit,” I spit back before turning around. “Let’s go.”

“What? Where?” he asks through a snarl.

I rotate on my heel, quirking a brow at him. “I can drag your ass over here if you’d like that better.”

The boy shakes his head quickly, his dark and shaggy hair whisking with the movement. Then he strolls forward.

I continue the journey back to my Tacoma, smirking when I hear him speak behind me. “Keira, take good care of Pickles for me when I’m gone.”

“Ew, you know I can’t stand your pug,” she scoffs. “She snores way too much.”

My chest bounces silently, and the bed of the pickup carves from the midnight. “Callie?” I call.

She’s turned the dome light on in the truck, her white dress poking out from the open door. “What happen⁠—”

Once she stands and spins around, her words clip. Her eyes dart to the peeping toms I’m towing in back of me, my hands slipping into my pockets when I idle a couple feet from her.

“A-are you serious?” she asks. Her jumbled gaze stitches to mine as she quietly scolds me.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” I quip with a smirk. Then I’m shifting my attention to locate the boy, angling my head toward Callie at the same time. “I believe you have something to say to the lady.”

His skinny throat bobs, and he raises his palms at Callie. “Look, we didn’t see the show.”

“Honestly,” Keira chimes in. She wags her head profusely as her gaze volleys between me and Callie. “We heard a few sounds, came to check out the scene, and that was it.” Then she pops a shoulder. “If anything, we caught the ending credits.”