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Repentance: The Story of Kace Haywood

Page 17

by Meghan Quinn


  Goldie still affected me. From the moment I’d first met her, I’d known she was someone who would be a part of my life. There was no denying it.

  The ache I’d had for her died though. The urge to claim her as mine, to tear her away from my best friend, was gone, and a true friendship was developing.

  She had latched on to me, and now I had to deal with her worrying about what was going to happen with Lyla and me.

  The minute she’d noticed I was coherent, she’d made it her mission to find out what had happened between me and Lyla. I’d spared her the details and said things hadn’t worked out. According to Goldie, that wasn’t a good enough explanation.

  The badgering I’d received was the reason for my second wave of nausea and headaches. The little honey-haired girl was relentless when it came to her best friend. It wasn’t until Jett saw I’d suffered enough that he took Goldie away and shoved more food in my direction.

  Feeling half human, I sat on the hood of Jett’s black Porsche Cayenne, nursing my water and waiting for Pepper to meet me in front of the hotel. I had one foot propped on the bumper of the SUV and the other on the ground, testing my half-drunken balance. The sun beat down on my back, and the Louisiana humidity made the alcohol seep from every pore in my body. Detoxing was a real bitch.

  “God, could you look any sexier?” Pepper asked as she walked up to me, snapping gum in her mouth and sporting a pair of short denim shorts and a low-cut tank top. The girl was looking damn fine. She stood next to me and ruffled my hair. “You really nail that whole brooding man look.” She scanned my easy outfit of worn jeans and a white T-shirt. “Why is it so simple for a man?”

  I took off my sunglasses and eyed Pepper up and down. “Why is it so simple for a woman?” I asked in return.

  Pepper and I had had our on and off moments, especially after Jett and Goldie had finally started a relationship. We both had demons to fight off, and we found losing ourselves in each other’s bodies was an easy way to forget. It wasn’t until Lyla walked into my life that I had stopped all interaction with Pepper. It had been abrupt, but she’d known going into the arrangement it was just sex, nothing else.

  Still, by the way she was eye-fucking me, I knew she wanted to go back to our old agreement. A part of me had thought about it during my drunken stupor. I’d thought about calling her, but I was too twisted to even lift my phone to text her, let alone fuck her senseless. Plus, in the back of my mind, I knew I would be hurting Lyla, and I didn’t want to do that.

  Lyla and Pepper got along, but there had always been an underlying tension between the two girls when they were both working at the Lafayette Club. It was noticeable when they were in a room together. It made dealing with both of them that much harder.

  “Where we off to?” Pepper asked, blowing a bubble with her gum.

  “I need your help picking out a present,” I said, standing and catching my balance. I still felt like I had sea legs. “Want to drive?” I asked, unsure how sober I really was.

  “Fuck yes.” She fist-pumped the air.

  Instantly I regretted my decision to let Pepper drive. If she drove anything like Goldie, I would be needing a barf bag. According to Jett, Goldie was by far the scariest driver he’d ever been in a car with. Apparently she liked riding on the sidewalks, treating pedestrians like bumper cars, and defying any and all speed limits. With Pepper’s “fuck off” way of life and her free spirit, I could imagine what I was in for.

  “Where to?” she asked after we got in, and she started the engine. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and pumped the gas a few times while we were still in park.

  Jesus.

  “Easy there, Mario Andretti. We’re just driving to the French Market.”

  “Let’s see how fast we can get there,” she said, pulling into traffic and slamming on the gas. I flew back into my seat and my hand instinctively went to the “oh shit” handle above the door.

  “Unless you want me puking in your lap, slow the fuck down, Pepper.”

  Pepper laughed and dropped to the speed limit. “Jett was right. This is going to be fun.”

  I should have known Jett had spoken with Pepper. He’d probably told all the girls about my drinking binge and asked them to be extra annoying around me. I wouldn’t put it past him. It would be his way of teaching me a lesson.

  “Just fucking drive,” I replied, relaxing into my seat and pressing my throbbing head against the propped up hand that rested on the window.

  “What kind of present are we getting?”

  The girls didn’t know about Madeline. Only Jett knew, but he wasn’t able to come with me this year, so he’d sent the next best thing. She would understand my need not to talk about it, unlike Goldie, who would be asking a million questions. Babs was pre-occupied with helping out at Justice, and Francy and Tootse were no use because they were either too occupied with each other or Francy was trying to explain everything to little blonde Tootse. I would rather take Goldie over Tootse and Francy, and that was saying a lot.

  Answering Pepper, I said, “A present for a little girl.”

  “Um, that’s an odd thing for you to be getting. Care to explain?”

  “Nope,” I replied, resting my head against my window.

  And that was that. We sat in silence as Pepper drove to the French Market. We could have easily walked from the hotel, but I wanted to go straight to Madeline’s house afterward, and with the bitch of a hangover I was nursing, walking up and down the vendors row at the Market was going to be hard enough.

  Since it was a Saturday, the Market was full when we pulled up, but we were lucky enough to find parking on a side street. With my sunglasses covering my bloodshot eyes, we walked through the Market, dodging tourists and avoiding the cheesy souvenir stands. I was looking for something handcrafted and original to New Orleans. Ever since the first time I’d bought Madeline a gift, it had been a tradition of mine.

  I had no clue if she actually liked what I got her, or if she even opened the box. Her mom could have flagged the boxes as something from a psychotic and not even given them to her. If that was the case, I would continue to bring her presents on her birthday and Christmas because she deserved them, even though they might not be given to her.

  “What about a voodoo doll?” Pepper suggested, grabbing a creepy-looking one off a table.

  “Probably not the most appropriate gift,” I replied, trying to avoid eye contact with the doll’s wandering eyes.

  “I had them when I was young. They never worked though. I asked for my teacher’s hair to burn every day, and every day she walked in with a full head of hair. Damn thing was a hoax.”

  “That is so disturbing on so many levels, I’m not even going to ask.”

  “Best you don’t.” Pepper smiled at me and continued to walk down the aisles of vendors.

  We passed a vendor selling knock-off sunglasses and looked at each pair, examining the color and size.

  “You know we’re not shopping for you, right?” I placed my hand on her back and leaned close so she could hear me over the bustling crowd.

  “Can’t stop a girl from shopping.” She smiled back at me. “Hey, what about a necklace?”

  Pepper led me over to one of many jewelers in the Market, but there was something about this vendor that was a little different. Her necklaces had more of a French feel to them rather than the typical beading. Silver pendants, dangling on delicate strands, were displayed on black velvet stands, catching my eye.

  “These are kind of nice,” I said, looking at a circular pendant with a purple gem stone in the center. “But are they too old for a little girl?”

  “Maybe,” Pepper said, eyeing a chunky turquoise necklace. I didn’t like it, but who was I kidding. I knew nothing about jewelry, so who was I to judge?

  “Fancy meeting you two here.”

  I froze and my hand instantly retreated from Pepper’s back as if she’d burned me. Not taking my aviators off, I looked up to see Lyla standing in front o
f us with a fake smile on her face. Even though I told myself not to check her out, my eyes betrayed me as I took in white shorts that showcased her gorgeous legs and a mint green T-shirt that dipped too fucking low in the front. She wore a pair of brown sandals that matched the belt she was wearing. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing her neck, her silky, caramel-colored neck, which enticed the fuck out of me.

  She was breathtaking.

  “Hey, Lyla,” Pepper said with a little too much cheer in her voice. She gave Lyla a hug. While Lyla wrapped her arms around Pepper, she maintained eye contact with me, searing me with her green eyes. From the way her jaw twitched and the hard set of her brow, I saw she was not happy. I didn’t blame her.

  “Hey, Pepper,” Lyla practically whispered. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Shopping,” Pepper answered innocently, not knowing the history between Lyle and me. “What are you up to, girl? We haven’t seen you in a while. Are you not working out with us anymore?”

  Interesting. Lyla had stopped working out with the other girls, even though she still had access to all the amenities. Was that because of me?

  Of course it was because of me. She was best friends with Goldie. The only reason Lyla wouldn’t be working out was because she was worried I would be in the vicinity.

  Lyla shrugged. “I like to do my own thing.”

  As Lyla and Pepper continued their small talk, I left their conversation and considered Lyla’s pink glossed lips glistening in the sun. Images of them sliding over my cock, over my rock hard body, over my own lips, ran through my mind. Yearning took up a place inside the pit of my stomach, and I itched to reach out to her. I not only wanted this woman, but I needed her.

  Standing a few feet away from her, I felt the pull of our souls, the heady urge to claim her as mine. It was undeniable. Lyla was my other half. I’d known it from the moment I met her. I’d known she was supposed to challenge me, understand me, and give me everything I ever wanted. That was why I couldn’t love her, why I couldn’t be with her. There was no place on this earth for my happiness.

  “How are you, Kace,” Lyla asked, taking me out of my thoughts.

  “Fine,” I responded, not elaborating.

  “Doing some shopping?”

  “Looking for a present,” I answered.

  She nodded. “Well, I guess I will leave you two to your date.”

  Date? Oh hell.

  “Not a date,” Pepper and I said at the same time.

  Lyla smiled. “Could have fooled me.”

  And then she walked away. I watched her retreat, her short shorts dancing dangerously with her ass cheeks. I wanted to rip her out of the crowd and block her from view of all the other men in the vicinity. I hated that she flaunted her body for the whole world to see. I hated that she worked at a fucking strip club, where men could see what belonged to me.

  Fuck, what should belong to me. A tidal wave of torment attacked me as I tried to steady my beating heart.

  “Hey, you okay?” Pepper asked, gripping my hand.

  “No,” I replied, looking after Lyla.

  Before I could stop myself, I moved forward until I stood right behind Lyla. “Lyla….”

  She turned slowly, gripping her purse with one hand and putting the other in her pocket, striking a casual pose even though the tension between us was palpable.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Fuck, what did I want to say? Many thoughts ran through my mind.

  Forgive me.

  Be with me.

  Fucking save me.

  But I couldn’t speak any of those truths.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she said, not giving me much time to gather my thoughts. Before she could entirely shut me out, I grasped her arm and made her face me. I slid my hand down her arm until our fingers linked together.

  Her shoulders visibly deflated and the strong façade she’d erected around her heart came tumbling down with one squeeze from my hand.

  “I’m sorry, Lyla.”

  “For what?” she asked, searing me with her green eyes. “For treating me like a whore the other night, taking what you wanted, exposing me, and then leaving? Or are you sorry for not being man enough to be with me?”

  My heart twisted in my chest. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Lyla. I needed more than anything to hold her in my arms, brand her as mine, live in her beauty. I’d never wanted to cause her pain, but that’s exactly what I’d done. I’d let her into my world temporarily and wound up hurting her because I wasn’t strong enough to say no.

  “I didn’t mean to treat you like that,” I stated. “You’re the furthest thing from a whore, Lyla, so don’t ever call yourself that.”

  “I’m just telling you how you made me feel, Kace. Did you think I would be okay with how you treated me? Do you think I enjoyed telling you my secrets and having you be repulsed?”

  A lone tear ran down her cheek, but she pulled her hand out of my grasp and quickly wiped it away.

  I gripped the back of my neck, a nervous tick of mine, as I tried to figure out how to fix this. No easy solution struck me, and that made me nervous. Even though I knew I couldn’t give her what she wanted, I still didn’t want to lose her.

  There’d been a time in my life when I would have taken a woman like Lyla and never let her go. I would have instantly claimed her as mine and made sure every fucking penis in the locality knew it. It was a time in my life I would do anything to go back to. To just have a moment in time where I wasn’t wearing the weight of the world on my shoulders, where I could be the Kace I once was, the Kace who knew what it was like to live, to enjoy life.

  I wasn’t that man anymore.

  Taking a deep breath, I gave a little piece of my heart to her. “I wasn’t repulsed by you, Lyla. I was repulsed by myself.”

  “Because you had sex with me?” she asked, getting in my face and ignoring the passing crowd.

  I was about to answer when someone bumped my shoulder, sending my weight into Lyla. We both stumbled backward for a second before I was able to right our balance. I turned to see who’d bumped us and was greeted by an apologetic-looking man.

  “Dude, sorry about that. This ‘gator jerky line is out of control.”

  “No problem,” I said gruffly.

  “Hey, you’re Kace Haywood.”

  I prayed he would just move on, forget he’d ever seen me. I didn’t need this right now.

  “Dude, you were the shit. You had the sickest uppercuts I’ve ever seen.” The man threw a couple of fake punches my way. Little did he know, I had an uppercut that could end a life.

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to give the guy a hint that I wasn’t interested in talking about my boxing career.

  “Did you hear the trainer you were using—Jono—was nailed for slipping his athletes supplements? You should look into that because honestly, I didn’t think you would ever do steroids. This just proves that.”

  “Yup, I’ll check into that. Thanks, man.” I shook the guy’s hand and pulled Lyla behind a pillar so we could have an ounce of privacy.

  “That was kind of rude,” Lyla said. “That guy was being nice to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my boxing career.”

  “But he was clearly a fan—”

  “Of a has-been,” I interrupted her. “There is no need for me to save face with fans. That career is long gone.”

  “Still, you could have been a little nicer. You walk around on this earth like people owe you something.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I said, pinning her against the pillar. “I walk around on this earth owing everything to someone else.”

  Lyla searched my eyes, and when I tried to turn away, she gripped my jaw tightly and forced me to look at her. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

  “More to what?” I asked, loving the way her hand felt against my skin.

  “More to your pain. It’s not just about losing your boxing career. There is some
thing darker, something deeper.” She paused. “Who is the present for? Who are you shopping for, Kace?”

  The way her eyes cut through me, the feel of her skin on mine, her proximity that had always made me feel so safe were breaking down my walls. The answer rested on the tip of my tongue.

  “Tell me, Kace. Who are you shopping for?”

  I danced with the possibility of telling her when Pepper joined us, holding a bag.

  “Got the gift….” She trailed off when she saw how close Lyla and I were. “Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?”

  The concerned look on Lyla’s face soured.

  “No, I was just leaving,” Lyla said while separating herself from me. “Pepper, give me a call for a girls’ night.” Lyla looked at me. “See you around, Kace.”

  With sorrow in her eyes, Lyla walked away, leaving Pepper and me alone with a bustling market behind us.

  Tourists and locals flowed in and around the pillars that held up the roof of the French Market, but like a parting in the sea, I had a clear view of her retreating beauty, reminding me I wasn’t privileged enough to hang on to such a life-altering woman.

  “You love her, don’t you?” Pepper asked, tilting my whole world upside down.

  Love was a foreign concept. Love wasn’t on my radar. That was what I’d convinced myself. “No,” I answered, even though the thought had crossed my mind.

  “Bullshit,” Pepper responded.

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t know what love is, Pepper.” Taking a deep breath, I nodded at the bag in her hand. “What did you get?”

  Letting the moment pass, Pepper reached into the bag and pulled out a green voodoo doll that was sporting a purple and pink dress. The twisted-looking doll was hideous.

  “I’m not fucking giving her that,” I stated, not even letting Pepper explain her reasoning for getting it.

  Laughing, Pepper said, “This is for me.” She handed a small locket to me. “This is for your friend. There’s a gray stone inside.”

  I opened the locket and saw the small polished stone nestled inside. It was simple but beautiful. Simplicity went a long way at times.

 

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