He slaps a hand over his chest. “The lady doth wound me.”
I grin. “If we were dating, you’d have to be exclusive.”
“Ah, yes, the damn exclusivity clause.” He tweaks my nose, and I swat his hand away. “That would be a problem.” He flashes me a wicked grin.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, your propensity for group sex would be an issue, which is why we’re better off maintaining the current status of our relationship.”
He sets his drink down on a tray next to a collection of half-empty glasses. “Except in front of your parents,” he adds in a low tone, slipping his arm around my waist. “Follow my lead.”
“Mrs. Parker. Mr. Parker.” Zach extends his hand as my parents approach us. Dad gives Zach a not-so-subtle once-over, while Mom beams at him, as they take turns shaking his hand. I’ve got to admit Zach cleans up well in his designer suit, shiny shoes, and perfectly groomed hair. He’s even shaved, and there’s no way an unpracticed eye would guess he’s doped up.
“You’re Sylvia’s boy, aren’t you?” Mom says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are your parents here?” she inquires, glancing around the room.
“They are. They’re seated at a table at the back of the room.”
“I must stop by to say hello before the night is over.”
“I’m sure they’d like that,” Zach coolly replies.
“How do you know my daughter?” Dad asks, pinning him with keen eyes.
“Zach’s a friend from college,” I rush to answer, looping my arm through his. “And he’s my date for tonight.”
“How wonderful,” Mom says, actually looking like she means it. “Let me have a word with Georgia and ask her to set another place setting at our table.” She shoots me a brief, sharp look when Zach isn’t looking. “Emily neglected to mention you were joining us or I would’ve already ensured there was a seat for you.”
“It was a last-minute arrangement,” Zach says, loyally coming to my defense. “And it’s not a problem. We have room at our table if Emily wants to sit with us.”
I could happily plant one on him right now.
Mom waves her hands about. “Nonsense. I’ll get it fixed.” She wanders off with urgency in her step.
Ten minutes later, we’re all seated around the table as the waiters serve the first course. Zach is on my left and, as might be expected, that asshole Wes had to maneuver it so he’s sitting on my right. Blondie is on his other side, sucking up to Mr. and Mrs. Blakely as she engages them in mindless chatter, which suits the jerk to a T.
Wes clamps a hand on my thigh, under the table, digging his nails into my flesh as he leans into my ear, talking in a low voice. “In five minutes, I’m going to excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and you’re going to wait a couple minutes and then follow me. I’ll be in the men’s restroom on the lower level. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“You’re clearly delusional if you think I’m going to blow you at this event with my parents close by,” I whisper back, keeping a pleasant smile on my face even though my stomach has just lurched to my toes, and I’m on the verge of throwing up what little food I’ve eaten.
He digs his nails in harder, and I wince a little. Zach jerks his head around, trying to continue his conversation with my father while checking out what’s going down with me.
“I’m not asking you to blow me,” Wes says, his eyes shimmering with barely disguised lust. “I’m going to fuck that pretty cunt of yours, and then blow my load all over your ass.”
A shudder works its way through me as bile coats my mouth. “Not happening!” I hiss, gulping back panic as a cold, hard mask washes over his face.
He leans across me to my father, raising his voice so he’s heard over the conversation at the table. “I’m surprised you approve of your daughter’s choice of date this evening, Coach Parker,” he says, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
Dad’s brow furrows as he looks between Zach and Wes. “You boys know one another?”
“McCartney used to attend my high school,” Wes confirms, pausing for a split second, as Zach stiffens beside me. “Before he was expelled,” he adds, popping a piece of smoked salmon in his mouth.
I know nothing of Zach’s background. Hell, I know very little about his life now except he’s from a wealthy family, is a junior studying business in CU, he knows how to party hard, and he’s an excellent fuck.
I don’t need to be a genius to work out his expulsion has something to do with his predilection for Class A drugs.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to tell tales,” I chastise Wes, laughing lightly to offset the brewing tension. “And I thought you said you needed to use the bathroom?”
A slimy grin graces his ugly mouth as he pushes his chair back. He slaps Zach on the back. “Sorry if I embarrassed you, man. Was just making conversation.”
Dad watches Wes walk away with narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to Zach.
“Don’t apologize for that asshole,” he says his hands still balled into fists under the table. “And whatever you’ve just agreed to, don’t do it.” His eyes drill into mine, and a flush creeps up my neck as I realize he knows a lot more than I thought.
“I can handle Wes,” I lie, setting my napkin down on the table. I glance briefly at Blondie, but’s she’s still in ass-licking mode, and she hasn’t even noticed her boyfriend has left the table. “I need to powder my nose,” I say, grabbing my purse and standing. “I’ll be back soon.”
Zach goes to open his mouth, but I use my eyes to send him a silent message, and he shuts up.
I hurry out of the room and down the stairs to the lower level bathrooms, wiping my clammy hands down the front of my dress and wishing I’d brought my pepper spray with me. I don’t want to do this, but I can’t let Wes spout any more shit. He’s already planted the seeds of suspicion, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad wasn’t, at this very minute, talking to Wes’s parents to see what they know about Zach. If it’s as I suspect, and he discovers he was expelled because of a drug habit, it won’t take him long to put two and two together.
As soon as I walk into the empty men’s room, a hand snakes out, and I’m yanked sideways into the handicap stall. I react on instinct, kneeing Wes in the groin before he has time to lock the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” I bark, as he drops to his knees, cradling his crotch. “If my father discovers Zach was expelled for drugs, it’ll take him a hot minute to figure things out.”
“He … wasn’t … expelled … for … that,” he pants out, glaring at me. “Got kicked out … for screwing the principal’s underage daughter.”
Air whooshes out of my mouth, and my shoulders slump in relief. Thank fuck for that. But my relief is short-lived.
“You fucking bitch,” he rasps, staggering to his feet as he recovers.
“It’s your fault for scaring the shit out of me,” I snap, turning on my heel to leave when he grabs me around the throat from behind and pins me to the wall, pressing my cheek up against the cool tile.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going,” he demands, shoving my dress up to my waist and tucking it into my panties. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“No!” I scream, but he covers my mouth, muffling my cries, as his other hand pins my wrists behind my back.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” Zach roars, grabbing Wes by the back of his jacket and ripping him away from me. He shoves him into the other wall, and they go at it, swinging fists and throwing punches. I fix my dress, silently cheering Zach on as I watch them beat the shit out of one another.
Zach has the upper hand until Wes kicks his knee, and Zach cries out, tumbling forward, falling face-first to the floor. Wes is on him instantly, rolling him over and pummeling his fists into his face and his ribs. The look of rage etched in Wes’s eyes sends tremors of fear racing through me.
He’s going to kill him! That’s my only thought as I jump on Wes’s back, clawing my nails d
own his face.
He rears back, emitting a guttural roar, as he shoves me off, sending me skittering across the small space. My back slams into the wall with a loud thud, and pain rattles my tailbone, skittering up my spine. Adrenaline courses through me, and I ignore the pain, pushing off my elbows and charging at Wes again.
Zach is on his feet, but he’s clearly struggling to stay upright. He’s clutching his torso and swiping at the blood gushing from a cut over his eyebrow. I slam into Wes’s side, and the punch meant for Zach lands squarely on my nose, sending me reeling. Blood pumps from my nose as I lose my balance, falling to the floor again, my shoes flying off in opposite directions. My dress bunches up, exposing my lace panties, and I’m flat on the floor, moaning and pinching my nose as the oldies burst into the bathroom.
“What the hell is going on here?” Dad yells, his gaze bouncing around the space.
My mother takes in the state of me with a look of abject horror on her face.
“They ambushed me, sir,” Wes lies, swiping at a trickle of blood oozing from his split lip. “Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to mention anything about Zach’s expulsion. It seems he’s finally realized that having sex with an underage girl was disgusting and immoral, and he didn’t want you to know.”
“Weston?” Mr. Blakely pushes his way into the room as Zach helps me to my feet.
“That is not what happened,” Zach says through gritted teeth, and I clutch his arm tight in warning. We can’t tell them the truth, because then it’ll all come out, and it’s not like my mother would actually believe it of Wes anyway.
“It’s okay, Zach,” I say, seeing triple of him. Pain ricochets through my skull. “You don’t have to protect me.”
I face my parents, or at least, I think I do. “It’s my fault. I followed Wes here to tell him to keep his big mouth shut, and we got into an argument. Zach came to my defense, and then it got physical.”
“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Parker, but we’ll have to ask your daughter and her date to leave,” Georgia, the organizer, says, shaking her head in disgust as she looks between me and Zach.
This is the best news I’ve heard all night.
“I understand,” my mother says, shooting her an apologetic look. “And I’m very sorry for any embarrassment or inconvenience. If there’s been any damage, I’ll cover the costs. Just send the bill to my office.”
Mom takes hold of my arm, making an effort to be gentle, only because we have an audience.
“I’ll call you,” Zach mouths at me.
“Hopefully, I’ll still be alive,” I mouth back before I’m ushered out of the room to await my fate.
7
Adam
Sam and I are on our way to see Mom and Phoebe when my burner phone pings in my back pocket.
Sam’s gaze darts to my normal phone sitting in the cup holder of my truck. “Since when do you have two phones?”
Oh, since I became a drug dealer.
“It’s not mine.” That isn’t a lie either. The phone technically belongs to Ray. “Garrett left it behind when I dropped him off last night from playing pool.” Now that’s a lie, but I have to improvise, to keep the secret. I hate that I’m concealing shit from my roomie, but that’s par for the course with this gig.
“How was the frat party last weekend?” Sam asks, propping his booted feet up on the dash.
The burner phone quits ringing. Thank fuck.
“Decent.” But only because a certain, enigmatic strawberry-blonde with gorgeous blue eyes was there. “When are you going to get your ass out with us?” I’ve been trying to coax Sam to leave his dorm room, and join us. While I don’t go to parties much, I do hang out with the guys after training. Either grabbing food in the diner, or shooting pool at the local pool hall. Sam is a bit of a recluse, and I’m worried about him. In his spare time, all he ever does is play Xbox or hack into who knows what.
“My schedule is busy. You know I tutor in the student center most nights after classes. I barely have time to do anything else.”
I roll my eyes. “What are you at level one thousand in some game?” I ask to make a point.
Cars speed by us in the left lane as I ease up on the gas pedal and maneuver the car onto the off ramp.
“I’m out with you now,” he volleys back.
“I mean to a party.”
He belts out a laugh. “Like you party. You’re not Carter Banks.”
Carter? That dude probed me like the FBI after class on Monday, wanting to hear all about Emily. I gave up nothing except for telling him, over and over, that we didn’t fuck. Didn’t matter though. He doesn’t believe we just talked, and in the end, I gave up. He’ll believe what he wants to believe.
“What do you know about Emily Parker?” I ask. Sam might be a recluse, but he knows everything there is to know about this campus. Dude definitely has too much time on his hands.
He whips his head around, and I’m sure it’s about to fall off his neck. “Coach’s daughter? Please tell me you didn’t hook up with her.”
I brake at the red light at the bottom of the ramp. “Are you jealous or scared? And what do you know?”
“That coach will cut off your nuts if you lay a finger on his daughter. I like you, Adam, and I’d hate to lose you as a roomie or friend.” He smirks, and I sense he’s concealing something.
I squirm in the driver’s seat. “Spill, man.” When the light flashes green, I turn left.
“She tutors sometimes in the student center.” His cheeks flush a little, and it’s clear he’s got a bit of a thing for her. “She’s one hot chick. That’s it.”
I’m surprised she tutors. I assumed she was strung out on Molly most nights, but everyone knows what they say about making assumptions. She wasn’t high at the party, so maybe she only uses it occasionally. That thought sits easier in my gut, than the thought she might have a serious problem.
The burner phone goes off again just as I’m pulling into Mom’s driveway.
“Someone must really want to get in touch with Garrett,” Sam says.
“Why don’t you go in,” I suggest, cutting the engine. “I’m going to call Carter so he can tell Garrett I have his phone.” The lies keep coming, and I’m quickly reminded of how I lied constantly when I worked for Donnie. “Tell my mom I’ll be five minutes.”
Sam knows Carter and Garrett are roommates, so this doesn’t raise his antenna. He nods once and climbs out.
I wait until he’s inside, then remove the burner phone, cussing under my breath when I spot the recent missed calls from Ray. I haven’t spoken to him since our initial meeting last week. He had one of his lackeys call me to see if I’d sold the five bags he gave me, and I’ve been expecting his call. Typical he’d phone when I couldn’t answer. I press redial and call him back.
The line rings once. “Fucker. I’ve been calling your ass. Don’t ever ignore me.”
The last thing I want is to get angry. It’s Sunday, a day I usually kick back and hang with Mom and Phoebe. I don’t want to raise any red flags with them. Mom is as perceptive as me, and Phoebe is pretty alert too, but I’m fucked if he’s going to speak to me like that.
“Nice game yesterday,” Ray says, losing his punk attitude. “You’ve got one hell of an arm, boy.” I wonder if he means that, or he’s just letting me know he checked me out.
The second win of the season is a high I’m still riding today. Carter, Garrett, and I celebrated last night at the pool hall along with other teammates. Sadly, the frat houses didn’t throw any parties this weekend. I was hoping one did, and maybe I could’ve run into Emily again.
“I’m not your boy.” I grit my teeth.
“You are whatever I fucking tell you you are, at least for the next three months,” Ray announces like he’s a proud father. “You did well last week.”
Suddenly, regret worms its way through me. I probably shouldn’t have put a timeline on our deal. “Why the fuck did you drop me off like a piece of trash?”
He belt
s out a laugh. “I wanted to see what you were made of.”
I squint as the sun filters in through my window. “A warehouse party was going down that night. Surely, you knew that.”
“Maybe, but strung-out junkies don’t buy when they’re stoned. They’re too busy enjoying the high. I wanted to see what you would do. Besides, you need a glimpse of what you’re in for. You might’ve sold drugs for Donnie years ago, but the world is much different now, and you don’t seem like the type to get your hands dirty.”
Fuck off is on the tip of my tongue, but I refrain from telling him that. “I’ll bring your money by tonight.”
“Good. I’ve given you a week to consider it, so, tell me, do you still want in?” His tone grates on my nerves, but I shove my annoyance aside. Ray is a necessary evil. One I’ll just have to get used to. I briefly debate whether to renegotiate my employment time frame, but I could make decent bank in three months’ time.
Phoebe comes out of the house, her brown ponytail swishing behind her. “Adam.” She beams at me, and my heart melts.
“I’m in. I’ll be by later.” I end the call, not giving a shit about Ray.
I hop out of the car as Phoebe jumps into my arms. “You shouldn’t be outside,” I chastise.
She hugs me. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”
“And you don’t worry enough.” I swallow thickly as I hug the bravest girl I know. “Too many germs out here.” I set her on two feet. “You should’ve waited inside.”
“It’s cool. I’m on antibiotics still.” She runs ahead of me, and I can’t stay mad at her. Some days, I love that she’s laid-back about it. She doesn’t get a chance to be a normal kid, and on those days, I think it’s good she can be carefree. Other days, I get frustrated at how flippant she is, because this shit is serious, and I want her to treat it as such. But what do I really know? She’s the one with the illness. I don’t get to dictate how she is.
When we’re inside, Mom greets me with a smile. Her brown eyes appear tired and so much despair is oozing off her.
Holding on to Forever Page 7