“Ben,” I cry. “He betrayed them.”
“What are you talking about? Who did he betray?”
“My parents,” I cry, the sound muffled by his chest. “He gave them up to Anton. Ben told him where to find them.”
Slade curses under his breath and holds me a little tighter as he lifts me into his strong arms. He walks back over to his garage door where he leans back against it and slides down to his ass.
My legs drop on either side of his and I don’t waste a second before curling into his chest. “What am I supposed to do? I’ll never be able to look at him again let alone live under the same roof. He hurt them. They trusted him and he gave them up, gave us up. Because of him, Blake and I lived with the devil for thirteen years. I saw and experienced things that no other kid should ever have to go through. It’s all on him.”
Slade’s hand runs up and down my back, trying to soothe me as my world ignites around me. “I know you’re hurting,” he murmurs. “And fuck, babe, I love you so goddamn much, I’d do anything to take that pain away for you, but you know better than anyone that nothing is going to help ease that betrayal except for time. There’s nothing you can do to fix this. You can’t change something that happened thirteen years ago. You just have to work out how to get through each fucking day until one day you realize that you haven’t thought about it in years.”
“I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”
“It’s the only option you’ve got.”
“There’s plenty of things I could do.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt him, Virago.” My jaw clenches and he goes on. “No matter what, he’s still your uncle. He’s still the guy who gave you a home when you had nowhere else to go. You may hate him right now, but he loves you and I don’t want you to look back on this moment in ten, twenty years and regret the decisions you made right now. I don’t want you living like that, believe me, that shit is too heavy to live with.”
I focus on his eyes, desperately needing him to distract me from running back there and searching Ben out. “How do you know?” I question. “What regrets could you possibly have?”
“Plenty of things,” he tells me, resting his chin at the top of my head. “I regret treating you like shit when I could have won you over from day one. I regret being so fucking stubborn and pushing you away for so long. I regret sneaking into your bedroom and scaring the shit out of you. The haunted look in your eyes still stays with me. I don’t want that for you.”
“I don’t know what I want…”
His fingers soothingly brush through my hair and I close my eyes as I lean into him. “It’s not what we have to do in this life to survive that defines us,” he tells me, getting all philosophical on me. “It’s the way you continue to get back up after being knocked down. You’re stronger than this, Skylah. Don’t allow this to eat at you. You’ve survived much worse and came out the other end a fucking goddess. Don’t let Ben take your wings, Virago. It’s not your time to fall.”
I sigh into him, wondering for the millionth time how I deserved a man like this. “When’s it going to stop hurting?”
“I don’t know, babe. Could be next week or it could be years from now.”
“I don’t want to wait that long.”
“I know,” he murmurs, leaning back and rising off the cool ground before putting me down on my feet. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a few buttons as he pulls me into his side.
“Come on,” he tells me. “Call your brother and tell him to meet us out front. I have an idea.”
“What kind of idea?” I ask as he pulls me along to his Dodge RAM and pretends to be the gentleman we both know he’s not as he opens the door and helps me in.
He goes to close the door but before it shuts completely, he grins across at me. “You’re my girl, Sky and I hate seeing you hurting, so what better way to cheer you up than to fuck shit up?”
Well, damn. How does this man know me so well?
A wicked grin stretches across my face as I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket and send a quick text.
Skylah – Meet us out front.
Blake – The fuck? Why?
Skylah – Because we’re about to fuck shit up.
Blake – I’m in.
Within the space of seven minutes, Nessa is squished in the center of the back seat between Blake and Damian, looking somewhat nervous about what we’re about to do. It’s not even past nine in the morning yet, which Damian has already pointed out at least three times but when Slade met his eyes in the rearview mirror, some sort of message passed between them and he hasn’t complained since. In fact, he looks pretty fucking thrilled to be here.
As Slade starts driving out of town, Nessa sits forward, leaning as much into the front seat as possible, but Slade’s Dodge RAM is that fucking big that her head barely reaches between me and Slade.
“So, uh…was anyone actually going to tell us what we’re doing? Cause I had a huge self-care day planned. My hair was going to get the washing of a lifetime and my….” she trails off, grinning to herself. I can only imagine what she meant by self-care and I’d dare say it’s got something to do with the nasty things in her bedside drawer.
“We told you already,” Slade grumbles, still not completely used to the idea of me and Nessa hanging out though the more we do and the more he sees she’s not going to be a problem, the more he seems to come around. “We’re fucking shit up.”
“Yeah, but what’s getting fucked-up?”
Damian grins and looks down at her, trailing his eyes up and down her body. He drops his voice down low, low enough to make any red-blooded woman squirm. “You can get fucked-up if you want.”
Desire flashes in her eyes before she controls herself and puts her hand up to push him back. “Ugh, keep dreaming,” she groans in disgust. “I wouldn’t let you anywhere near me.”
Damian rests back against his seat, still keeping his heated gaze on her. “Uh-huh,” he laughs before nudging her with his elbow. “Did they ever tell you what their whole fight was about last week?”
“Nope,” she grumbles, flicking her eyes between me and Slade as Blake watches out the window, dangerously stuck inside his own head. “You?”
Damian shakes his head. “Nah, but I’m betting it has something to do with accidentally slipping it in the wrong hole. I know how you chicks get a bit upset over that shit.”
Blake’s fist comes shooting in front of Nessa and lands a devastating blow at the top of Damian’s thigh, instantly giving him a dead leg. As though she didn’t see a damn thing, Nessa continues. “Nah, it couldn’t be that. Slade’s extra careful about where he sticks that weapon after he accidentally slipped into Lyndall Weathers’ wrong hole and got bitch slapped in front of the whole school.”
My eyes go wide as I glance across at Slade to see him grinning proudly and I don’t bother asking if it’s true, clearly, it is. “That was no accident,” Slade confirms, glancing up in the rearview mirror. “She was the one guiding that thing and was embarrassed because she couldn’t take it.”
I watch him with my mouth hanging open. I hope he doesn’t want to shove that thing in my wrong hole. That’s definitely a no-go zone…at least for now…I think. “You can’t blame the girl,” I say, wondering if he’s really into it or if he just did it because she was putting it there. “That thing is a fucking monster. You would have torn her ass wide open.”
Pride shines through his eyes like never before and I have to roll my eyes at the idiot. Men and their dicks. Can’t live with them, but you sure as hell don’t want to live without them.
We drive into a suburban area and I start glancing around. I’ve never been here before and it clearly shows. Slade keeps going, not needing directions or guidance until he’s pulling up outside a high school. “What are we doing at Hunters High?” Nessa questions as Blake sits up straighter.
I turn to Slade. “Is this the Hunters High? Like, the Roman Westbrock Hunters High?”
“What are we doing? Are we going to TP their houses and spray paint dicks onto their fences? Oh, we can draw dicks on their cars.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Damian grunts from the back, looking at me as though I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing. “What kind of bullshit payback is that? First up, we ain’t spray painting any dicks. That shit is for beginners, we’re here to fuck shit up.”
“So I keep hearing,” I grumble as he continues.
“And secondly, why the fuck would you waste toilet paper like that? Don’t you know that shit is precious?” At my confused look, he rolls his eyes and explains. “One day, the apocalypse is going to come and toilet paper is going to be the first thing to go.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine, don’t believe me, but don’t come running to me when you’ve wasted all your shit house paper on dickheads like this and have nothing left to wipe your nasty ass with.”
“Fine,” I groan, still thinking he’s an idiot. I mean, surely toilet paper would be the last thing on people’s minds during the apocalypse. “Then do you mind letting us in on the actual, non-beginner plan?”
Damian grins wide. “I’d rather just show you.”
Slade drives around to the back of the school and before I know it, we’re sneaking in through a hole in the fence while the boys each wear a backpack filled with who the hell knows what.
Slade grabs my hand and drags me along, making sure to keep in the shadows of the buildings until we’re standing in front of the chained door of the boys’ locker room. “Damn,” Damian grumbles, grabbing the chain and flicking it around. “This thing gets bigger every time we come here.”
Slade grins as he dumps his backpack on the floor and pulls out a huge pair of bolt cutters. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
He gets to work as Nessa and I drool over the way his muscles bulge out of his arms. The chain breaks and instantly falls to the ground, letting the door swing open.
Slade tosses the bolt cutters down beside the chain and grabs his backpack, following Damian and Blake inside.
Nessa and I follow along and are instantly hit with the god-awful smell that the boys don’t seem to even notice. I glance around, still trying to work out the game plan when Slade pulls out another pair of bolt cutters, this time small enough to have been slipped into the front pocket of my jeans. He hands the tool to me before indicating to all the padlocked lockers around us. “What are you waiting for, Virago? Justice needs to be served.”
Well, well, how could a woman deny her crazy side?
I swing the bolt cutters around my fingers, and with an excited smile, I get to work.
Twenty minutes later, we jump over fallen lockers, scramble through the trash on the floor, and climb over the flipped benches as we race our asses out of there. Who would have known that trashing their locker room would have made me feel so good? I feel a little devilish, a tad wicked, and damn it, I’m kinda turned on.
The boys howl with laughter as we make our escape, me and Nessa struggling to keep up with their long strides until I’m thrown over Slade’s shoulder and Nessa’s being dragged along by Damian.
The rush pumps through my veins and by the time we’re crashing back into Slade’s Dodge RAM, Ben, and his betrayal has completely faded from my mind…at least, for now.
Chapter 20
I throw the ball toward the hoop with my tongue hanging out in concentration. It flies in a less than perfect arc, hits the backboard and the rebounds straight into the back of Damian’s head as he stares off at the big-breasted chick running past in the shortest bike shorts and training crop, her titties bouncing in every possible direction keeping him absolutely mesmerized.
“The fuck?” Damian grunts, spinning around to glare at me, rubbing the back off his head. “What was that for?”
“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose,” I demand, wondering why he assumed it was me. I mean, Blake, Nessa or Slade could have made a shitty shot like that, not just me.
“Uh-huh,” he says, not believing a word I say as he strides toward the ball and scoops it up. It’s instantly thrown at the basket, going straight through and making the shot that I would have had to attempt at least twenty times to make.
Damian catches the ball as it bounces and runs back toward the hoop, launching into the sky and dunking while pointedly looking toward his big titty friend, trying to gain her attention.
I roll my eyes and leave him to it, knowing there’s no way in hell I’m going to get that ball back. Slade sits on the bench, rolling my pencil between his fingers, keeping his eyes trained on my body.
He absolutely loves it when I join in on the court. It’s not as though my skills are exciting, if anything, I provide him entertainment. What I’ve come to realize is that he watches me because he likes me joining in and showing interest in what he enjoys. It probably doesn’t hurt that I’m spending quality time with his best friend. There’s nothing worse than those couples who don’t get along with each other’s friends. That shit is bound to cause problems.
It’s been a long weekend. We’re only on Sunday afternoon and so far, Slade has been doing everything in his power to keep my mind off all the Ben bullshit. I was lucky that he didn’t come home last night but it didn’t help hearing Shay sobbing through the wall.
She’s hurting so bad. She doesn’t know what to do. On one hand, this is her husband. This is the man she’s madly in love with and has been since she was only fifteen years old. This is the man she’s shared her life with, bought a home with, this is the man whose shoulder she cried on when her sister was brutally murdered. But on the other hand, this is the man who betrayed that sister and whose actions lead to her death.
I’ve been asking myself how I’m ever going to move past this, but what about Shay? It seems like she’s got it the worst here.
As I step up to Slade, his hands fall to my waist as he pulls me in between his long legs. “Are you alright?” he rumbles low, sending a shiver down my spine and making my thighs clench with desire.
I bite down on my bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t say the same for Damian’s head though.”
Slade pulls me in closer and brushes his lips over mine. “Trust me, he’ll be fine. That kid has been hit in the back of the head so many times that he probably wouldn’t notice it anymore. It’s not like he could lose any more brain cells.”
“Hey,” Damian demands from under the basket. “I can hear that shit.”
“You were supposed to.”
“Oh, yeah?” Damian challenges, propping the ball against his hip and narrowing his eyes at his best friend as they glisten with mischief. “Why don’t you come over here and say that?”
“What? You don’t think I will?” Slade laughs. “You think I’m scared of you? I’ll fucking smoke you man, and you know it.”
“I hear a lot of talking but not a lot of action. If you think you’re so fucking good, then come over here and prove it.”
Slade’s eyes come back to mine and it’s clear that Damian knows exactly how to get a reaction out of him. “I can’t let him get away with trash-talking me.”
“He literally trash talks you every time, you get up, whoop his ass, and then he starts all over again. You realize this is exactly what he wants and you’re giving it to him.”
“I know, but he does it so well…”
“PUSSY!” he hollers from behind me, making Slade’s eyes narrow and his grip tighten on my waist. “What’s wrong? Do you need your girl’s permission to play ball?”
Oh, fuck no.
Slade practically flies over the top of me before sprinting toward Damian and making his eyes bug out of his head. No one gets away with calling Slade Cruz a pussy, not even his best friend saying it to stir shit. Hell, I wouldn’t even get away with it. I don’t even wan
t to think about the consequences of taking a risk like that. Though, I’m sure paying penance for my crimes would be well worth it.
Damian gawks as he sees Slade launching toward him like a rocket. He takes off up the other end of the court like a bull out of a gate but Slade is right on his ass, more than ready to take this fucker down.
The ball is stolen and I grin at how easy it was. Damian is an incredible basketball player and could go all the way if he wanted, but Slade has natural talent that outshines Damian’s by miles. Blake’s skill lies somewhere in between these guys but I feel as though he holds back, waiting for his chance to truly shine during the next season when he’s no doubt going to be captain.
Slade runs for the hoop with Damian desperately trying to catch up, grunting and groaning as Slade kicks his ass. I laugh as I watch them. They’re both complete morons but seeing them carefree and enjoying life is just too good of an opportunity to miss.
Knowing that no matter what shit is currently going down, I’m going to make it through the other end, has me feeling content. I reach for my discarded pencil that was nearly thrown to the ground in Slade’s desperation to get onto the court and I drop down onto the bench.
Pulling my legs up, I make myself comfortable and grab my sketchpad. My fingers have been craving the feel of the pencil gliding across the page for days now. My head has been a mess and to be honest, I don’t even know what I’m drawing. I let my subconscious do the work and as the lines and shapes start to form, the familiar outline of my parents' faces begins to take shape.
I should have known this was coming. I haven’t drawn them in a while but with Ben’s betrayal weighing heavily on my heart, it only makes sense.
I wonder what my parents would have thought if they knew what Ben had done. Were they the forgiving type? Would they have held a grudge and disowned him? My gut tells me they would have done a bit of both, but I want to know exactly how long they would have punished him. I guess no one really knows what they’re going to do when faced with betrayal.
Lost Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 2) Page 16