Just Neighbors

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Just Neighbors Page 9

by Charity Ferrell


  Kyle is waiting for me when I pull into the parking lot. I speed-walk his way, and he moves to the side, letting me in without speaking. I curse with every step as I walk down a hallway lined with loaves of bread and pastries.

  Damn it, Trey.

  Why did he shoplift?

  Why didn’t he come to me if he needed money?

  Kyle leads me into a dimly lit office reeking of mothballs. Trey is sitting in a chair, and surprisingly, he’s not wearing handcuffs. Mr. Garfield, the store’s owner, is at his side, worry lining his wrinkled face. His wife is sitting in a chair behind an old desk, looking like she’s ready to rip Trey’s head off.

  I cast them a glance of apology, but only Mr. Garfield will make eye contact. Today isn’t the first time someone from my family has shoplifted from here. My mom and sister were regular thieves. Mr. Garfield let it slide for a while but eventually started calling the cops. They ended up banned from the store after the tenth occurrence. I haven’t been banned yet, but Mrs. Garfield keeps a watchful eye on me. Every visit, I slip extra cash in the tip jars at the registers to make up for my family’s theft. Mr. Garfield’s soul is kinder than his wife’s.

  “Seriously, Trey?” I snap with a stressed sigh as soon as the door slams shut behind me.

  Regret is clear on his face. Trey isn’t a troublemaker, but he’s a survivor.

  “Your family is filth,” Mrs. Garfield hisses. “Thinking they can take whatever they want.” Her glare cuts to Kyle. “I don’t know why this young man is helping you and that thief.”

  My apologetic face turns cold, and my nails bite into my palms as I clench my fists. Don’t say anything.

  If I lose my cool, she’ll take it out on Trey.

  “Enough, Mary,” Mr. Garfield warns his wife.

  Kyle steps to my side and looks in her direction. “Mrs. Garfield, don’t act like you’ve never needed a handout in your life.”

  I cringe at the word handout.

  My blood pressure rises. We don’t need handouts.

  “I think they’ve had enough handouts,” Mary answers with a sneer.

  “And I think you need to grow a heart,” Kyle says.

  Mary strokes her throat and grimaces. “No offense, Officer, but you’re not the one losing money.”

  Tears prick at my eyes, but none of them will see them fall.

  “Money or not,” Kyle says, “he’s a kid.”

  I open my mouth, wanting to say something, but I’m not sure how I can justify Trey’s actions. They’re inexcusable.

  “Kid or not, he’s not innocent,” she continues. “Her family teaches their kids to become criminals at a young age.”

  Kyle looks at Trey. “Come on, let’s get out of here, so we don’t waste any more of their time.”

  Trey nervously stands up. He looks down in shame when our eyes meet, and my heart hurts for him. That was me so many years ago—surviving by any means necessary. The difference is, I had no one to go to for help. He has me.

  “What are you going to do with him?” I ask Kyle, finally gaining the ability to speak before opening my purse. “I’ll pay for whatever he took and extra for the inconvenience.”

  Kyle waves away my offer. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not arresting him.” He tilts his head toward Trey. “Stay out of trouble, or next time, I won’t be as nice.”

  “What?” I blurt out.

  “Officer Lane paid for what your nephew stole and extra for our troubles,” Mr. Garfield explains with a nervous smile. “We won’t be pressing charges against Trey.”

  I let out a huge breath. “Thank you so much. I’m so sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

  “I understand struggle, dear,” Mr. Garfield says. “Don’t let my wife get you down. She’s having a rough day. We both know you’re a good girl.”

  I look at Mary and lock eyes with her, hoping she’ll see my gratitude. “Thank you again.”

  She looks away as if the sight of me disgusts her and snarls at Trey. My anger heightens. I hate being looked at as if I’m beneath someone, but it really pisses me off when that disdain is directed at someone I care about.

  The three of us rush down the hall, and I don’t speak again until we’ve made it outside.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” I yell at Trey as we head to my car. “You could’ve been arrested!”

  Trey looks at me, his eyes flickering with regret and humiliation. “Gloria needed supplies for daycare and food. Mom wouldn’t give me the money, so I had to get them another way.”

  I swallow hard. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “I can’t always come to you. You bought us new clothes and paid for my football equipment. It’s not fair to always ask you for money.” His attention goes to the ground, and he kicks at pebbles with his shoe. “It’s pathetic enough that Mom always begs you for it and then spends it on booze.”

  “I would much rather give you the money than her, Trey. I give her money to help you and Gloria. Don’t ever feel ashamed about asking me for help. Do you hear me? If you or Gloria need something, you come to me. You don’t shoplift!”

  Kyle clears his throat, and we both look at him. I forgot he was here.

  He tips his head toward the corner of the parking lot and focuses on me. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Of course.” I grab my keys from my purse and hand them to Trey. “I’ll meet you in the car in a minute.”

  Trey grabs them and walks away. I scrub at my eyes before dragging my hands over my face and meet Kyle. We’re facing each other, and his hands settle on my shoulders before he takes a step back, as if he’s inspecting me.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yes, just a little pissed off. I can’t believe Trey would shoplift. I’ve told him a million times, if he needs something, call me. Instead, he steals, proving to everyone that we’re all the same.”

  He lowers his hands to run them over my arms. “Don’t you dare listen to that old bat, you hear me? Block out every fucking word she said to you.”

  “What she said wasn’t a lie,” I mutter.

  “The fuck it is. The mistakes and wrongdoings of your family don’t define you. Who they are is not you. What I see when I look at you is a strong woman, a woman who fights for what she wants and takes on responsibilities that aren’t hers to make children’s lives better.”

  I don’t want his words to make me feel better, but they do.

  He’s giving me all the feels.

  How is this asshole I thought I hated giving me all these good feels?

  I inhale a deep breath, and when I move to open my purse, his hands drop, breaking our connection.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can pay for my family’s shit, Kyle.”

  His eyes soften. “I never said you couldn’t. It’s already taken care of.” He whistles and tilts his head toward my car. “Get Trey out of here before Mrs. Garfield comes out with her shotgun.”

  I frown and hitch my bag up my shoulder. “Fine, but we’re talking about this later.”

  He smiles. “You’re always welcome in my home.”

  Ten

  Chloe

  Age Fourteen

  My sister is having a baby.

  A baby boy, to be exact.

  She won’t tell me who the father is, but I’ve heard her scream at him and demand money over the phone.

  Since Claudia doesn’t know anything about babies, I checked out books from the library for her, receiving quite the curious look from the assistant librarian. Claudia threw them across the room and said she’d know how to take care of her baby when he got here. So, I took them to my room and read them myself.

  Someone in this house needs to be educated on what to do with a newborn.

  Sam’s visits are limited now. All they do is argue when he comes over. Him not coming around makes me sad. He is nice to me and helps me with my homework. He cares about m
y interests and never tells me my dreams are stupid. Sam is who I want my father to be.

  A month later, Sam stops coming over permanently.

  Age Fifteen

  “Hey there, stranger.”

  My head flies up at the sound of the voice I’ve missed.

  Sam stands in my doorway, looking clean-cut in a suit and with a ball cap over his head. It’s rare seeing him without a hat on.

  “Hi,” I answer in surprise, unable to hide my excitement. “Long time no see.”

  He has been nonexistent in our lives for nearly a year. I thought he was gone for good, so the sight of him brings nothing but joy to my face. He’s never met Trey, who came into the world three months ago. He did send a care package with no return address. A note was attached, saying he wanted Trey to have the baby essentials.

  “Sorry about that,” he answers. “Life gets in the way sometimes.”

  I nod, though I don’t understand. Something I’ve come to learn is, if someone wants time with someone, they make it, no matter what. That means Sam didn’t want to spend time with anyone in our home—including me.

  Having men come and go isn’t out of the ordinary. I’ve never met my father. My knowledge of him is through old photographs and the few choice words my mother shouts when I ask about him.

  Sam steps farther into my room. “Your sister said you’re very helpful with Trey.”

  The baby books I read have been put to good use since I’m Trey’s main caretaker. Not his mother. I get up with him at night and change all his diapers, and since she refuses to breastfeed, in fear it will mess up her “good tits,” I feed him his formula.

  I shrug and hold back the urge to tell Sam that. I want him to be proud of me, but Claudia will kill me. “I try.”

  He smiles. “You’re such a good girl, Chloe. I’m sure she appreciates your help greatly.”

  I snort. “Claudia doesn’t appreciate anything.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year.”

  I tuck my legs underneath my butt. “So then, why do you like her? Why don’t you find a nicer girlfriend?”

  It’s been a while since I’ve asked him, but I don’t understand how a decent man like him can like her. There must be something wrong with him. Broken people seek out other broken people. I see it every day of my life and wonder how I’m ever going to find someone nice to take on the job of being with someone as broken as I am.

  He shrugs. “People like people for different reasons.”

  “You like her because she’s pretty … and she has sex with you.”

  He chuckles and slides his hands into his pants pockets.

  “You two seem so different,” I go on.

  “Opposites attract sometimes,” he argues.

  “Duh,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Opposites have sex with each other, but—”

  He cuts me off. “You seem to know an awful lot about sex for someone your age.”

  I point out my bedroom door. “Uh … have you seen the people I live with?”

  He walks into my room and sits down on the edge of the bed, concern now etched on his face. “None of their boyfriends have ever … they’ve never touched you or talked to you inappropriately, have they?”

  “No,” I rush out.

  They’ve looked but never touched.

  “You’ll tell me if they do, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise,” I say softly.

  He gives me a gentle smile. “You know, you’re going to make something of yourself when you get older. I’m certain of it.”

  His words come out with pride.

  They fill me with pride.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “I want to be a writer when I grow up.”

  This spikes his interest. I love when he seems interested in me.

  “Yeah? What type of writer?”

  “I don’t know. I like reading the newspapers.”

  He chuckles. “Whoa. The pay for the amount of work is chump change.”

  I frown. “Not everything is always about money.”

  He rubs his hand over his clean-shaven cheek. “If there’s anything you learn from me, Chloe, it’s that life is always about money.”

  Eleven

  Kyle

  A towel is wrapped around my waist after the post-gym shower, and I walk through the living room at the sound of the doorbell. The realization that I’m about to answer my door half-naked doesn’t hit me until I’m standing in front of it. I look out the peephole and smile at the sight of Chloe standing at my door, glancing around in annoyance.

  As soon as I swing the door open, I lean against the doorframe, leveling my arm above me while a grin plays at my lips. “Hello, my favorite neighbor. Care to borrow some sugar?”

  Unfortunately for me, the expression on Chloe’s face isn’t screaming that she’s down for having a good time. Her chin is jutted into the air, and her pretty little lips are pinched together.

  A wad of cash is shoved into my chest. “This is for whatever Trey took,” she says. “Let me know if it’s not enough.”

  Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

  I shake my head while ignoring the cash. “I’m not taking your money.”

  “Why?” she snaps.

  “I don’t need to give you a reason.”

  “Bullshit!” She inches the cash further. “Now, tell me how much, Kyle.”

  I wave for her to come in, and surprisingly, she does. She crosses her arms as soon as the door shuts.

  “Why’d you do it? Why are you being so nice to me, inviting me to your fucking family dinner, and helping my family?”

  “I told you, I’m a nice person.”

  She snorts. “People don’t do things to be nice. There’s always an underlying reason.”

  I throw my hands up. “Do I need a reason to be nice to someone? I’m fucking attracted to you, Chloe! I wish I could take what happened between us back every single day. When I see you in the morning, I wonder where we’d be if I hadn’t been such a dumb shit then.”

  This isn’t how everything was supposed to go down.

  I take a step forward, grab the back of her head, and pull her to me. “Maybe it’s time I find out.”

  Twelve

  Chloe

  I can’t digest Kyle’s words before his lips crash into mine, and I’m pushed against the door. The money slips from my fingers, and I draw in a gasp when his excitement rubs against my thigh over my pants.

  I could’ve thrown the cash at him and walked away. It’d have been the smart response. I might be book smart, but I’m sure as hell not emotionally smart. My emotions have no sense of rationality around him.

  So, instead of being smart and fleeing the scene, I walked in, asking for trouble. Our kiss confirms everything I’ve feared. This is what I want. He’s what I want, and I’m not strong enough to continue pushing him away.

  Sleeping with Kyle doesn’t mean we need to have a relationship—or hell, even like each other. The only way sex can happen with us is if it’s no-strings attached and with no expectations. With every kiss and touch, I’m allowing him in deeper, knowing I’ll be left with emptiness when everything crashes between us.

  The gasp escapes me when his tongue dips between the seam of my lips, and his fingers plunge into the base of my ponytail, roughly raking through the strands and then tugging at the ends. This man has fingered me and gone down on me, but those times were always about my orgasm, about him proving he could get me off.

  This is different. Our kiss is laced with desperation and urgency, and with tentative fingers, I stroke him over the towel.

  He moans into my mouth when I gain the courage to tug on the towel until it falls at our feet.

  “Tell me this is happening,” he says. “Let me have all of you.”

  I run my tongue over his bottom lip and wrap my fingers around his bare, swollen length, sliding them along the tip, spreading his pre-cum. “Does this answer your question?” />
  His chest moves against mine when he chuckles. “So far, it’s looking pretty damn promising.”

  “Very promising,” I whisper with a smile.

  “There’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  He knots my ponytail around his fist, forcing my head back, and kisses up my throat. “I’m the only one naked.” He licks the curve of my neck before releasing me, and I lose my hold on him when he withdraws a step. “Strip for me.”

  I steady myself against the door at his command, my breathing ragged, and I take in his naked body in all its glory. The finely sculpted muscles of his chest and arms are no stranger to me, and even though I’ve given him a blow job, there wasn’t much time to take in his swollen, thick cock before.

  When my eyes meet his again, I find him intensely watching me, almost daring me to disobey him.

  “Strip, Chloe,” he demands again. “Get naked. I won’t ask you again.”

  I hold in a breath before grabbing the hem of my shirt and hurriedly ripping it over my head. My heart rapidly pounds against my chest, and it takes only seconds for me to step out of my yoga pants. My attention closes in on him, waiting for approval, but he gives nothing.

  I haven’t given him all of me yet.

  I lock eyes with him, and his gaze turns wicked when I unhook my bra, my breasts spilling forward. Still, not a single word from him. Neither do I get one after dragging my panties down my weak legs and kicking them away from my feet.

  This is the first time Kyle has seen me fully naked. My heart is beating wildly, like I was working out for hours, and I’ve never felt so exposed.

  “Take your hair down.”

  I do as I was told.

  He inches closer while drinking me in, his eyes roaming up and down my body. He runs his hand over his face, stopping at his chin, and bites into his thumb.

  And, finally—fucking finally—he’s directly in front of me. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning, Chloe.” His compliment sparks through me stronger than anything I’ve felt with another man.

 

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