Broken: South Side Boys-Book 2

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Broken: South Side Boys-Book 2 Page 16

by Winter, Alexis


  This is so much more than a kiss. Or a goodbye.

  Until she stops it.

  “Kalum, wait,” she tries to push me away, but I won’t let go. “You . . . Amanda . . . we can’t be doing this.”

  Fuck.

  The fact that I completely forgot about my fake girlfriend/police contact says a lot about where my mind is right now. Since I saw Tori’s name pop up on my phone, I haven’t been able to think of anything else.

  “Fuck, Tori. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, but I . . .”

  “No, Kalum. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have come here. I just needed to see you one more time. The last time we saw each other, it wasn’t exactly my proudest moment. And in case . . .”

  “In case what?” I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. I’m still holding her, and even if she objects, I don’t care. I might not be able to kiss her, but I’m not letting go until she physically pushes me away.

  “I don’t know when, or if, I’ll come back.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you were just going to go see your dad and clear your head?”

  I know I can’t be with her, and even when this mess with The Kings is over, I doubt she’ll forgive me. I’ve held back so much from her. I’ve lied to her. I’ve paraded another woman in front of her. You don’t come back from something like that.

  But I’m not prepared for the thought of never seeing her again. In my selfish mind, she’d still be in my life because of Jaxson and Annabelle. I’d be able to get my fix of Tori from afar.

  “That’s the plan. But I don’t know—maybe this is the push I need for a fresh start. I’m sure I can find a coffee shop to run back home. It’s not like I have anything keeping me here.”

  “No. Stop that.” Now I’m getting angry. I grab her shoulders just enough so she’ll look me in the eyes, because she needs to hear what I’m about to say. “You have friends here. Family. A job where you kick ass. I thought you liked being around Scarlett and Grant? You know how much you’d miss them. I know you’re confused right now, and really pissed at me, and you need to clear your head, and I get that. But your home is here with . . . us.”

  “Is it, though?” She looks down, taking my shirt in her hands and gently tugging on it. “Annabelle and Jaxson will be getting married soon, and probably starting a family. Scarlett and Grant have their routine down, and while I’d miss them, it’s not a far drive down here. But seeing you and Amanda . . . I don’t know if I can be around that, and I won’t make everyone pick between you and me. I’ll come back when I’m ready. I just don’t know when that will be.”

  I lean down and press a long kiss to her forehead.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed.”

  She leans gently into my lingering kiss. The air is now thick knowing that—for real this time—this is it.

  Tori is leaving me. Just like I need her to.

  “Me too, Kalum. Me too.”

  41

  Tori

  My lips still burn from today with Kalum. I never thought saying goodbye would be so hard.

  Or feel so good.

  But then I remembered that he’s not mine to kiss like that anymore. That I don’t get to touch him, or allow him to give me pleasure. Telling him to stop was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  Well, until tonight, when I’ll have to tell my sister and best friend that not only am I leaving town for an unknown period of time, but that I’ve also been lying to them for months.

  When I asked them to come over, I expected to be ignored, or for them to have very important things to do tonight, like washing their hair. Then I remembered that both of them are much better people than I am. Within minutes, they said they’d be over, each bringing a bottle of wine.

  I fill in the time packing the last of my things I’ll need in Wisconsin. How much do you pack for a trip you hope only lasts a week but could drag out for months? I wasn’t trying to be dramatic with Kalum—I really don’t know when I’ll be coming back. I don’t want to be in Wisconsin forever with the Becca Mathenys of the world, but right now, staying in Chicago doesn’t look so hot either.

  As the buzzer sounds, alerting me to Scarlett and Annabelle’s arrival, it reminds me that I might not be a huge fan of Chicago right now, but I’ll hate being away from these two.

  That is, if they can forgive me.

  “All right. We brought wine,” Annabelle announces as she and Scarlett push their way into my apartment. “We’re going to pour it then sit down. Then for the next 10 minutes, you are going to apologize to us for being a shitty person. After that, we’ll decide if we forgive you, which will determine whether or not we open the second bottle.”

  “I think I liked you better when you were shy and wouldn’t speak your mind,” I joke, following them to my kitchen.

  “Well, we liked it better when you weren’t a hateful bitch, but here we are,” Scarlett says.

  I nod, finishing off the pour and heading to my living room. Also known as the groveling zone.

  “You’re right. I was a bitch. And a shitty friend who said horrible things. And I’ll understand if you two hate me forever.”

  “We don’t want to, Tori, but you better have a damn good reason for treating us like complete dog shit.”

  “Yeah. What Annabelle said.”

  I take in a deep breath, knowing it might be the last one I take for a long time.

  “Does having a secret relationship with Kalum since the reunion count? And not just a friends-with-benefits thing like we tried at the beginning, but accidentally falling in love with him, only to have him break my heart when I found out he was seeing Amanda behind my back? Is that an acceptable reason for being a bitch?”

  No one says anything. Jaws are on the floor. Eyes are bugging out of heads. It’s like a damn Looney Tunes scene.

  Before anyone says anything, Scarlett gets up and heads to the kitchen, coming back with the second bottle of wine.

  I eye her, wondering what she’s doing with it.

  “Fuck the whole ‘if we forgive you’ thing. You’re forgiven. And we’ll need this just to get through every detail of what you’ve just told us because, holy shit, you were banging Kalum!”

  “So was it good?”

  After an hour of telling them about how we got together, what really happened during the reunion trip back in Wisconsin, how we were going to give it a try, and the way the fallout happened, that’s the first question.

  “Really, Scarlett? After all of that, that’s what you want to know?”

  “Well, yes. You’ve been holding back on us. We’ve missed out on months of knowing if Kalum is as intense in bed as he is in person. My guess is yes, he is, in case anyone’s wondering. And by the look you’re giving me right now, I’m going to assume the answer is, in actuality, a ‘yes.’”

  I love my sister so much.

  “I’m not telling, purely because you guys will have to see him and I don’t want you having those images in your head. But let’s just say he has set a very high bar.”

  I left out what I overheard in the garage—that Kalum may be stealing cars again. There are still so many lingering questions, and I’m uncomfortable even speculating.

  “Wait!” Annabelle says, nearly spilling her drink. “Is that why you turned down Ben? Were you two . . . Oh my God! What did we do?”

  I laugh because, of course, now it’s funny.

  “Yes, and you two almost got me in trouble that night! When Ben and I were at dinner, he quickly realized that I had something, or someone, on my mind. So we ended the evening, but he walked me home, where, shockingly, Kalum was waiting. So Ben is actually the only person who has known this whole time. He’s actually become a really good friend and has helped me a lot over these last few weeks.”

  “Oh sweetie.” Annabelle puts down her wine glass, wrapping her arms around me. “I hate that we weren’t there for you. But you know you could have told us, right? We would have kept your secret.”
r />   I lean toward her, so thankful that my best friend has the biggest heart on the planet and has forgiven me for how awful I’ve been.

  “It was a whirlwind. I wanted to tell you both so many times. But at first, it was just a fun thing, and we didn’t want to make things weird. Or have anyone put pressure on us. Then when it started getting more serious, well, that’s when Kalum asked me to double down on the secrecy. He told me at the time that he had things to figure out, and he’d tell me when he was ready, and that’s when we’d tell you guys. Well, apparently, the stuff he had to figure out was about Amanda . . . and you guys now know the rest.”

  Getting all of that out there feels so good. For the first time in months, I have no secrets. I feel free.

  Yet the fact that I still need to figure some stuff out weighs heavily on my mind.

  “I hate that I liked her,” Scarlett says. “She was freaking nice and pretty and now I hate her on principle. Team Tori!”

  I laugh. “You guys don’t have to hate her. She is nice. I fucking hate it too. Be nice to her when you guys are all out together. He deserves someone great.”

  “We understand if you don’t want to come out with us. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. I would have called me names too,” Annabelle says. “But we can halt the group outings until you feel up to them.”

  I take her hand, needing it to steady myself for the second part of my confession time.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m . . . I’m going away for a bit. Taking some time to get my head right.”

  Scarlett takes a few big blinks, making sure she heard me correctly. “You’re leaving? When? Where are you going?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m going to go back home for a bit. Help Mom out with Dad when he gets out of the hospital.”

  “That makes sense,” Annabelle says. “A week at home will do you some good.”

  I take a big gulp of air. “I don’t know if I’ll be back in a week.”

  “How long will you be gone?” Scarlett asks, already knowing she’s probably not going to like the answer.

  “I don’t know. Until I feel like myself again.”

  “You know you can find yourself again in Chicago, right? You don’t need Smithville for that.”

  I might not be a huge fan of our hometown, but if Scarlett never steps foot back in Smithville again, it would be too soon.

  “I know. But I need to get away for a bit. I don’t want to stay there forever . . . I just don’t want to rush back. When I come back, I want to be able to walk into my bedroom and not cry.”

  It’s Scarlett’s turn to wrap me in a hug.

  “Go to Smithville. Make sure Dad is better. Get your head right. Say shitty things to Becca that she likely deserves. Then get your ass back here because we need you.”

  42

  Kalum

  I’m not a praying sort of guy. I’m pretty sure if I ever walked into a church, something would catch on fire.

  But this morning when I woke up, I said a little prayer to whomever would listen. I prayed that tonight won’t go horribly wrong. That everything will go as planned so Maverick and I won’t end up in body bags.

  I prayed for all of this to be over soon.

  Now I just hope that someone was listening.

  To say I’ve been anxious all day would be an understatement. It’s a Saturday, so the shop was closed. Thank God. No way would I have been able to act like nothing was going on—or about to go down.

  Maverick arrived a little while ago—both of us needing to mentally prepare and go over what’s about to happen tonight. And we both need to not be alone.

  Big Al’s crew needs Audis. A4s to be exact. Five of them. Apparently, they have a buyer and that was the request. And if you read about the theft system, it’s billed as virtually unstealable—basically, the only way to steal this car is to tow it.

  But those people have never met Maverick.

  The job Big Al gave us is simple enough. The cars we’re supposed steal have already been tagged. We know when they’ll be in place, and where they’re going to be. The recon was done this week by Big Al’s gang, which Amanda was pissed about because we couldn’t use a dummy car.

  Our job? Steal five Audi A4s tonight and drive them to where The Kings are storing the other cars. That’s the part the cops haven’t been able to nail down: where they’re keeping their inventory. Amanda says that if we can help her find where they’re storing the cars, then that will be enough to shut down the ring.

  The problem? We won’t be told where it is until we have the first car in our possession. We won’t even know if there are already cars at the drop site. Not to mention, we have no idea what the security situation is.

  Basically, we’re going in blind.

  So the plan is: once we get the first car, and we’re told the location, we have to drive it there, get access inside, and do the recon. Then, after we get another car, and depending on what we saw inside, Amanda will let us know if they’re going to follow us in and take down the shop as we turn the Audi around and get the hell out of Dodge.

  That’s the part that most worries me. Because I guarantee at least one bullet will leave a gun tonight. I just don’t know who it will be aimed at. Hopefully I can drive fast enough to not have it hit me.

  I look over at my brother, who’s reviewing the code on his computer for the hundredth time today. I don’t know who’s more worried about tonight: him or me.

  “You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep going over it,” I say, taking a seat next to him. “You know it’s solid. Just leave it be.”

  He sighs before saving his work and closing his laptop. “I know. It’s just, I hate waiting. I want to get this shit over with.”

  “You and me both.”

  We sit in silence for a bit, likely both going over our roles for the night. He drives us to the grab, and when we get to the site, fires up whatever computer thing he has to do. He’s tried to explain it to me and even after 10-plus years, I still don’t get it. But somehow, he breaks through the anti-theft system, which leaves it up to me to enter the car and drive away without looking back.

  We’ve only gotten caught once in our lives. The last time we did this. Which is what put us in jail.

  “What made you want to boost your first car?” Maverick asks.

  I ponder my answer. There’s the one I usually give, about needing money and making sure Mom and Maverick were taken care of. But that’s not the real answer. At least, not the whole one.

  “Am I going to sound like a cliché if I say I wanted the rush?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Because I know the feeling.”

  “I just . . . I know why I thought about doing it. I saw Mom working two—sometimes three—jobs to keep us fed and provide a roof over our heads. I knew you had a chance at college but would never go if we couldn’t afford it. So when I first thought about it, to me it was just a quick cash grab. But then . . .”

  “Then the rush hit.”

  “Exactly.”

  A few more minutes pass, and I’m sure we’re both thinking back to the countless jobs we pulled together. It was easy. We were a team. We were brothers. We were the best.

  “Are you worried about what it’s going to be like tonight?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I’m worried that something is going to go wrong. That we’re going to get caught in the middle of a gun fight and we aren’t even bringing knives.”

  “I’m not talking about that.”

  I look at him, wondering what else he could be thinking about other than making sure we end tonight on the right side of the ground.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m worried about how much I’m going to like it. That the rush is going to come back and we’ll remember how good this ‘drug’ felt. I’m afraid I’m going to want another hit after this is over.”

  I’ve thought about that a few times, but I wasn’t going to admit it to him. When you’re driving away in a car
that’s not yours, going 100 down the freeway, it’s a feeling that’s unmatched. At least to us.

  “I can see that.”

  “But you aren’t worried?”

  “Honestly? No.”

  “Can I ask how you’re so sure?”

  “Because,” I stand up, since after this conversation, I know I’m going to need a walk to clear my head, “when we were in prison, and the rush was over—when you were lying above me in a bunk that I was responsible for—I knew right then I never wanted to feel that way again.”

  43

  Tori

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  I’ve been back in Wisconsin for 24 hours, and apparently the karma gods don’t think I’ve dealt with enough shit the past few weeks.

  “Hi, Becca. I didn’t think your kind existed before 10 a.m.?”

  “Oh, Tori. How we have missed your sense of humor. To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you in Smithville twice in a matter of months? Are you allowed to be crossing state lines?”

  When my dad asked me to head down to Nuts and Bolts, the town’s coffee and donut shop, I tried to fight him on it. I told him that—weeks removed from a heart attack—coffee and donuts were probably not on his recommended diet list. That and I didn’t want to see anyone I knew—least of all my nemesis who I’m sure is still fuming about the reunion.

  “I’ve been eating damn plant food all week, so if you are any sort of daughter of mine, you will get me a donut and coffee. Or do I need to tell your mother about the time you think I don’t know about when you wrecked the car then blamed it on Scarlett?”

  The man plays dirty. Probably where I get it from.

 

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