Staggered footsteps thudded down the hall. “Well, where the hell’s she at?”
I tossed the bills onto the table, glancing up when he slumped against the doorframe. Just looking at him sent a jolt of resentment darting through me. “Try work. You know, since she’s the only one who does anything to pay bills.”
His bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Fuck you,” he said and shuffled toward the fridge.
Scooter hobbled over, and Dad tripped, stumbling into the wall before he swung a boot at the dog, barely missing. “That damn dog of yours shit on the floor. I outta beat him for it. Or maybe I outta beat the shit outta you for it.”
His lips twitched, then he pushed up his sleeves—a set of movements I knew all too well. One of my first memories was him putting my mom’s face through a china cabinet. By the time I was eight, I’d lost count of the times he’d busted my lip with a quick backhand to the face.
“You’re a disrespectful little shit.” He took a swing, and I ducked. His fist went clean through the cabinet behind me.
On instinct, I charged at him.
“Little shit.” He grabbed the collar of my shirt, then his forehead smashed mine before I wrestled him to the floor. I managed to get a good punch to his nose, then the temple, and he let me go.
“You’re a piece of shit!” I swiped my keys from the table, grabbed Scooter, and stormed outside. The sound of things crashing and shattering inside followed me to the front yard. I hated him. And more often than not, I found myself wishing he would die. Mom would never leave him, and she deserved so much better than this shit. We all did.
I loaded Scooter into the back of my car and peeled out of the drive, heading to the bus stop a few blocks over to wait on my little brother. The fight with my dad replayed through my head, creating a river of slow rage that needed to be diverted. I flipped through radio stations. Scrolled through my phone. Then finally, I typed out a text to Drew.
Me: Next on the list you have fighting or fucking
Minutes passed and no dancing dots. Curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled up that stupid app on my phone, waiting for the blue locator dot to pop up. God—I shook my head because I had issues. I really did. I’d put the thing on here to screw with her, and here I was, practically stalking her to satisfy my own morbid curiosity. It shouldn’t have mattered that she was at the same house she was the other day. Shouldn’t have, but damn, if it didn’t.
The yellow bus chugged down the street then rolled to a stop, and when the doors folded back, Scooter howled when Arlo hopped down the steps. A wide grin set on his face as he sprinted over, then yanked open the door.
“You brought Scooter!” He chucked his backpack to the floorboard, then piled in, immediately wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck. It was easy to make that kid happy. I scrubbed my brother’s head, making it more of a mess than it already was.
“Daddy’s mad again, huh?”
“Yeah.” I shifted into drive, heading the opposite direction of our house. “Wanna slushie?”
“Yeah!”
Arlo mixed all three flavors together, grinning up at me when the sludge overfilled the lid. “I’mma call this one monster puke.”
“Good name.”
He started down the aisle, then turned and handed the drink to me. “Can I have a quarter for the claw machine?”
“You know that thing never works.”
“Please…”
The kid had some good begging eyes. “Fine.” I fished spare change from my pocket and dropped it into his dirt and marker-covered palm. “And wait up there for me. I’ve gotta get something.”
“K.” He skipped up to the front, and I hooked it around to the toiletries section, looking for a cheap bottle of jerk-lotion. I’d planned to spend the afternoon with Drew’s legs pushed back behind her ears while I fucked every bit of hate right out of her, but here I was. In the 7-11. And seeing as how no other girl would cut it now, this was my only choice.
I settled on some cheap off-brand and made my way to the register. Arlo stood by the claw machine, his face plastered to the 7-11 window. A stuffed unicorn peeked out from under one of his arms, and a plastic bag hung from the other.
The kid had a habit of shoplifting things from time to time, even though I’d threatened to take his night-light away if he kept doing it. “Arlo,” I said. “Where’d you get the bag?”
“That lady bought me some Rainbow Push-Pops.” He pointed through the glass just as Drew climbed into the passenger seat of a bright-red Mercedes. “And she won me the horse with a sword on its head.”
“Why?”
“She said she knew you. So, she’s not a stranger, right?”
I placed a hand over his head, watching the car back out of the spot. “Not a stranger…”
Something tightened in my chest, and I knew exactly why serial killers didn’t want to get to know their victims before they killed them. Because when someone became real, it made everything harder. And that had just made her entirely too real for me to keep hating her.
Arlo sat on Hendrix’s couch, battling him on the PlayStation. “Bell, your brother’s a cheater!”
“Am not.”
“Are too. Cheater, cheater pumpkin eater.”
“You’re an asshole.”
Hendrix cackled. “Yes! I love it when kids swear.”
Wolf shook his head. Lighting a joint as he took the seat across from me at the kitchen table. “You did hear she only got suspension?”
“Yeah.”
“Which is bullshit!” Hendrix shouted from the other room.
I hadn’t told the guys about my deal with Drew—only because I didn’t want to listen to their crap. And had I told Hendrix that Drew was the one who suggested he set fire to her car, he wouldn’t have, on principle.
Wolf blew out a cloud of smoke. “Bet her rich daddy pulled all kinds of strings.”
And it was like the lightbulb came on. That had to be exactly why Drew hadn’t gotten expelled. Her dad was that big of a dick that he pulled strings to keep her in the shit school just because it was the shit school. That was on a whole new level of rich prick assholeness.
“Wonder if she’s got a rich mommy who wants a boytoy.” Wolf chuckled before taking another puff.
“Probably…”
“Dude.” Wolf slapped a hand over the rickety table. “Why aren’t you more pissed?”
“I am pissed.” He had no idea how much, because it cost me a night inside Drew’s tight little pussy.
“Bullshit. You’re staring off into space with this…” His lips curled with a hint of disgust. “This look.”
I pushed up from the table, rounding the counter to grab a coke from the fridge. “I don’t have a look. I’m thinking.”
“About fucking her or fucking her up? Because…” He glared at me for a moment, toking on his joint. “Had anyone else been throwing baggies of weed out like Santa on his Christmas float, you would be pacing the kitchen, mumbling.”
He was right, so I started pacing. “I am pacing.”
“You like her!”
“Shut up, man. I don’t fucking like her.”
“Hendrix!” Wolf shouted. “He’s pulling a Zepp.”
I heard the controller smack the wall before Hendrix barreled into the kitchen. He grabbed me by the shirt, and I shoved him away. “Don’t give in to the pull, you cocksucking weakling. These girls are like Medusa, and they suck you into their cold, stone eyes filled with hate and then. Bam!” He clapped his hands in front of my face. “They got you by the dick, dragging you around, making you buy them jewelry and getting you sent to jail.”
“She already sent him to jail.” Wolf lifted a brow.
Hendrix narrowed his eyes at me, a sick smirk covering his lips. “At least Zepp got pussy and some blow jobs before he went to jail.”
I grabbed an empty beer can from the counter and chucked it at Hendrix, pinging him in the head before Arlo bolted through the doorway.
“What’s
a blowjob? And did Zepp take the pussy to jail? I wanna see it! What color is it?” Arlo ducked underneath the table, assumedly looking for the cat he thought Zepp had. “Come here, kitty.”
Both of the guys were doubled over, cackling. I grabbed Arlo and pulled him out from under the table. “They don’t have a cat, Arlo.”
“But, the pussy was definitely orange.” Hendrix snickered. “Its name was Red.”
I jabbed him in the shoulder, mouthing shut up before I grabbed my brother, threw him over my shoulder, and carted him up the stairs to the bathroom.
“I wanna go back downstairs.”
“You gotta take a bath.” I took a towel from the hall closet.
“I’m not dirty.”
“Yeah. You are.” I plugged the drain, then turned the taps, hopping up onto the sink while the tub filled.
Arlo stripped out of his clothes, throwing them all over the place before climbing into the bath. “I wanna sleep with Spike tonight.”
“Spike?”
“Yep. Spike. The horse with a sword on its head.”
Over his donkey he’d slept with since he was two? That was some serious shit. Evidently, Drew’s charm could screw with the head of a six-year-old’s just as easily as mine.
“You know her, right? Can you send her a thank you text?”
My jaw set. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“It’s the nice thing to do, Bubba.” He splashed his hands through the water.
Of course it was. But I wasn’t nice and neither was she.
After the water reached the top, I turned off the taps and went back to the sink. If I didn’t stay in the room, Arlo would either not wash himself or drown.
I scrolled through my phone, ignoring the need I felt to send Drew a thank you text until I couldn’t any longer.
Me: Thanks for the Push-Pops and the horse with a horn on its head.
Me: That’s from my brother.
Me: I still hate you. X
Baby Girl: He’s cute, and his taste in popsicles is outstanding. Hate you too. x
And the second I smiled at her message, I went into my contacts and changed her name to Medusa.
15
Drew
I managed to make it another day of ignoring my dad’s calls, texts, and emails before he inevitably turned up. And holy shit, he was mad. Any other time I would have delighted in it, but the nervous eye twitch made me tread carefully.
“Suspended. Twice! Dealing cannabis. Your car…” He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his chest as he paced across the kitchen. Was he having a heart attack?
I sat at the breakfast island, clutching a bottle of water in front of me while I watched him. There were times when I pushed my father and times when I didn’t. Had I actually managed to get expelled, I’d be smug as hell right now. But I’d failed, and that meant he still held all the cards.
“My car was vandalized,” I said. The same as the house.
He shook his head. “Are you trying to ruin your life, Drucella?”
“Me?” The entire reason I was here was because he wouldn’t believe me when I told him I didn’t cheat on that test at Black Mountain. Had he just listened to me. Tried to defend me… But no, instead, he decided to punish me. “You’re the one ruining my life, Dad. Do you have any idea what it’s like at that school?”
Honestly, the worst part about Dayton High was Bellamy. There were times when I didn’t want to get expelled at all, where it felt like the excitement of being around him was the only bright point in my day, and that was exactly why I needed to get away from him. Because that boy was dangerous, and so very bad.
One night. I’d get one night. And that’s all I needed.
My dad’s eye twitched again. My father was many things but rarely ruffled, even in the face of all my crap. “I am trying to teach you to grow the hell up!” His voice boomed around the kitchen. He stood at the end of the counter, glaring. Fists balled, cheeks red, nostrils flared. Definitely verging on heart attack.
“Do you even care if I’m miserable? Or is your only concern what your buddies at the golf club think? I know it wouldn’t look good to have a daughter who got expelled from Dayton High.”
He smoothed a hand over his tie, his anger dissipating on a single deep breath as he forcibly calmed himself. “Is that what you think? That you are getting yourself expelled?” He laughed humorlessly. “Oh no, Drucella. I can assure you, I have lined Mr. Brown’s pocket with enough money that you could light that school on fire and not get kicked out. You are staying there, and that is that. It’s two months. Grow up and deal with it, Drucella.”
Oh, and that sounded like a challenge. Brown could only let so much slip before people would start asking questions, and a principal being bribed? Even in Dayton, that had to be scandalous.
“And your suspension is cut short. You’re going to school tomorrow.” He stalked out of the kitchen, still rubbing at his chest.
“I have no car,” I called after him.
“Take mine.” Oh, daddy dearest really was determined. “I’ll organize a new one for you.”
If I had my way, I’d be out of that school by the end of the week. Then my normal life could resume. Money and fake people and boys who would not make me want something bad for me. But since Brown was being bribed, I was going to need help from the very person I was trying to escape.
Me: I need to see you
Dickhead: Wanna picture of the whole thing or just the tip?
Me: See you, not your dick.
Dickhead: What do you need?
Me: To. See. You. Didn’t I already say that?
Dickhead: W
Dickhead: H
Dickhead: Y
Dickhead: ?
He was infuriating.
Me: OMG! You still owe me. That’s why.
Dickhead: You really want to go down this road?
Dickhead: Because the way I see it, you still owe me a blow job…
Dickhead: Genevieve.
He was such a dick.
Me: Just come get me, you asshole. I have no car since you burned mine.
Me: Or you know, I could ask someone else for help. I’m sure Hendrix might help me with the fighting….and fucking.
Several minutes passed before he finally responded.
Dickhead: I’ve got errands to run, so you wanna see me. You have to go with me.
“Errands.” Whatever.
Me: Fine. See you then.
Errands.
After he nearly killed me speeding through Dayton's pothole-riddled streets, we pulled into a rundown shopping mall. Grass sprouted from the broken concrete, and abandoned shopping carts lay scattered across the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. What in the hell was it with the names of places around here?
Bellamy drove to the side of the empty building and parked by a dumpster but didn’t get out.
This place looked sketchy as hell. “Uh, what are you doing?” I asked, staring through the windshield at a cardboard shelter propped against the cargo bay.
“Don’t worry about that. What did you need?”
Sighing, I shifted on the cloth seat, then placed my back to the door to look at him. “I still need out of Dayton.”
“I already told you...” His stare remained fixed through the windshield like a predator searching for prey. “Fighting or fucking.” His gaze swung to mine on a wicked smirk. “Or both.”
“Fine. Let me punch you in the face at school.”
“Negative.”
I lifted a brow before taking an obvious look at his crotch. “I’m not fucking you in a hallway full of people.”
And the smile that crept over his face while he practically undressed me with his eyes had filthy thoughts rushing through my mind. “Nah, baby girl, I wouldn’t want you to. I don’t like people seeing what’s mine.”
I pressed my head back to the window, like the chilled glass had a prayer of cooling the heat crawling up the back of my
neck. “And you haven’t held up your end of the deal yet…” I swallowed, wondering why in the hell I kept running my mouth. “Or the threat you made on day one, to fuck up my life first.” I’m gonna fuck up your life, then fuck you. There was no rational reason that threat should have made me hot for him, but it did.
His teeth sank into his bottom lip. “You believing I haven’t, proves just how much I have…” His hand landed on my thigh, creeping up as he leaned over the center console.
The citrus smell of his cologne was everywhere. My skin prickled under the intensity of his stare, and I wondered for a moment why I wanted to get away from him so badly.
“Because there is no damn reason you should want me.” His mouth touched mine—almost in a kiss before he grabbed my bottom lip between his teeth. “No reason you should have made that deal...”
I did want him, and he was right; I absolutely shouldn’t. This was beyond the simple rebellious draw of a bad boy. I knew the second I gave into him, he would destroy me. Because guys like him and girls like me… Well, that was a disaster waiting to happen. And that was why I made that deal. Black and white. Lines drawn in the sand. One night. He couldn’t destroy me in one night. Could he?
“I’ll fuck you right here if you want, baby girl…” His fingers were right there, like he was waiting for permission to touch me again. “Make good on my first promise…” His other hand went to the back of my neck, and everything inside of me ignited.
On a sharp breath, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, unsure whether I should push him away or pull him closer. Then his forehead pressed to mine, his staggered breaths teasing my lips—like he was fighting to restrain himself just as much as I was. My lungs screamed, body aching for him. I debated it. Screwing him right here in the front seat of his shabby car. Wouldn’t be the first time I got naked for him in a parking lot...
The bump of bass broke through the tense silence, and Bellamy shifted away. Like this spell was all too easy to break.
A rusted Trans-Am zoomed around the corner of the Piggly Wiggly and screeched to a halt in front of the dumpster.
No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 9