Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2)

Home > Other > Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2) > Page 12
Damaged Elite (The Darlington Elite Book 2) Page 12

by Waverly Alexander


  “I thought you were at home sulking and not speaking to anyone?” I whisper harshly, and I can sense Tim staring at us. He’s got to be wondering why Tommy is the one here, but I know why. Patrick would have bashed Tim’s head on the table and thrown me over his shoulder, Miles is probably with Cassandra, and Henry wouldn’t come unless he thought I needed help. And Zach, well, he’s probably keeping a safe distance so he doesn’t snap or say something hurtful like earlier.

  “I was.” Tommy shrugs, swiping a dinner roll off of Tim’s plate and biting into it. “I decided pretending everything is fine is a better idea.” He nods like he believes this is actually a good potential solution.

  “Tommy…” I start, but he nabs me up by my elbow, hoisting me out of my seat, and we start walking out. I hear Tim saying hushed apologies, and I wonder idly if he’ll even follow us out or wait until we’re gone.

  “You can psychoanalyze me later,” Tommy quips, shoving the rest of the roll in his mouth and less than elegantly shouldering the door to the waiting area open. My eyes find Patrick standing in front of the doors leading to the parking lot, arms crossed and wearing that broody stare of his. I used to think it was for effect, to scare people off, to assert his dominance, but after spending time in close proximity to him, I think he just has a severe case of resting bitch face. The thought makes me giggle, despite my current predicament, and that just deepens the worry crease between his brows.

  “Kennedy, are you— Should I— Who is that?” I hear Tim ask, and I realize he’s following behind us as Tommy shuffles me out to the parking lot. I twist in his hold to look back at Tim. On one hand, I’m thankful that the boys showed up, but on the other, I’m going to torture them when we get home for thinking they can tell me what to do. I wasn’t in danger, Tim just had expectations I couldn't deliver on. We just hadn’t been on the same page. My stomach knotted because maybe that’s what I’d done to Zach. Expected things of him that he couldn’t deliver, and really, that was unfair to both of us.

  No, he’s the one who turned things sexual between us. After that first kiss, I backed off. The ball was in his court. He doesn’t want to be just friends, but he doesn’t want to be more, or even nothing at all. Zach has been holding all of the power in our relationship, and it’s about time I take it back.

  I look over at Tim. “It’s fine, Tim. Tommy, this is Tim, from my history class. Tim, this is Tommy, resident panty-dropper on campus,” I say dryly, my eyes searching the parking lot for Zach. I don’t know if I’ll be more irritated if he’s here to break up my study session or if he stayed home and sent his two goons to do his dirty work.

  “Ah, not so fast,” I hear Patrick say, and I turn to see him wrap an arm around Tim’s shoulder, guiding him toward where we parked. I’m confused at first why Tim would be heading in the other direction. I peer over and my stomach flips. Zach is reclining on the hood of Tim’s car, twirling his hockey stick in one hand and glaring at Tim.

  “You’re all terrible,” I whisper harshly to Tommy as we move closer, Patrick practically dragging Tim up alongside us. “Where’s Henry? Does he know what you’re up to?” I look pointedly at Patrick, and he shrugs.

  “He said he wasn’t coming because you have free will or some shit. And he didn’t think it was necessary for four of us to make sure you were safe.” Patrick’s grip tightens on Tim’s shoulders, and his jaw flexes when he meets my eyes. “I could be home with Everly right now, you know. Instead of here, scaring the shit out of this fucker.”

  I ignore Patrick because I know that will irritate him more than any words I could possibly string together right now. I elbow Tommy in the ribs, just hard enough for him to pretend like it hurts and loosen his hold on me as we approach Tim’s car. Patrick less than gently flings Tim into the bumper, and on instinct, I reach out and swat him on the arm.

  “I. Miss. My. Girlfriend.” Patrick punctuates each word, ducking his head to reach my eye level.

  “I’m going to call your girlfriend and tell her what you’re up to if you don’t let Tim get in his car without your help so he can go home and have a nice evening without anyone harassing him.” I point a finger up at Patrick, and with our height difference and his general disposition, I feel a lot like Belle reprimanding The Beast.

  Patrick straightens to full height and looks to Zach, who is off of Tim’s car now. “Sorry, bro, she fights dirty.” He holds his hands up in defeat, something he only does for Everly’s benefit.

  Tim adjusts his shoulders, and I wince because physically he’s no match for any of the Elite boys. He’s probably going to be sore tomorrow from the way he’s been manhandled by Patrick.

  “Look,” Tim says, and I can hear the shakiness in his usually calm voice. “I just wanted to take you out for a nice time to help you relax…”

  “Relax?” Zach bites out, wacking the tire with his hockey stick, and I jump from the noise.

  “Trying to ply her with wine,” Tommy says, flinching away before I can make a grab for his nipple through his shirt. “Don’t worry man, I drank it before she could,” he tells Zach.

  “One more word and I’ll use your toothbrush…the one you hide in the linen closet so you know it’s germ-free,” I say seriously, and Tommy’s whole face drops. I move over to Zach and yank the hockey stick out of his hand, and I’m surprised he lets me. “Knock it off, you made your point. Let him go home, or I’m going with him.” It’s a lie, I’m not going anywhere else with this condescending prick, but I just want Tim to get out of here in one piece so I don’t have to be an accessory to assault.

  “We’re just fucking with him,” Patrick says, like it’s a completely acceptable answer, and then lets out an agitated huff. “Look, Karly, it’s not safe for you to be running around without one of us with you.” He keeps a straight face, and so do I. We really should have been siblings in another life, but we probably would have strangled each other.

  “You’re an asshole,” I say, and he doesn’t disagree. He’s not wrong, though, I shouldn’t have thought going to the library would be safe if I was just with Tim. I doubt he knows what’s going on with the Learys, or even about Cassandra and Beth, and if some other curveball gets thrown my way, he certainly couldn’t physically protect me from whatever it is. Everything has been hushed up by either the college or the police, to the point where it seems like everyone has forgotten about Darcey’s fall and the supposed carjacking.

  Zach steps away from the driver’s side of the car and moves to stand in front of me, blocking Tim from my view, but I duck under his arm so I can address him. “I’m sorry about all this,” I say, and I am. He’s not someone I’d be compatible with romantically, or even someone I could make it through a whole date with, but he didn’t deserve what he got tonight either.

  I feel Zach’s arm slide around my middle from behind, his fingers splaying out on my stomach in a possessive manner. I hear him say bitterly, “This is why I can’t do this.”

  Despite the tingles that spread rapidly through my body, heat sinking low in my belly just at his touch—nope. We are not doing this. I reach down and pry his fingers off, stepping away as Tim gets in his vehicle without another word and cranks on the engine.

  I feel Zach’s warm breath on my neck before I hear his voice. “We’re leaving,” he bites out, and I so badly want to lean back into his hard chest, but I can’t.

  “Yep, that’s the plan,” I say, walking over to stand next to Tommy, because Tommy is safe. Not because I believe for a second that Zach would physically hurt me, but because I don’t want to jump Tommy’s bones.

  The ride home is awkwardly silent, aside from Tommy spouting off poems about how big his junk is and Patrick threatening to pull over and fight him in the street if he doesn’t quit.

  Once in the driveway, Patrick and Tommy are quick to bail and rush into the house, leaving me with Zach. When we make it inside, almost to the kitchen, he moves to stand in front of me. He’s looking down at me, studying my face, and I’m not sure wh
at he’s looking for.

  I break eye contact because I can’t focus when he does that. It’s like he pulls me inside him, and I can feel every emotion he has. Behind him, I see Everly and Patrick in the kitchen. She’s leaning over the counter, pen in hand, a thoughtful expression on her pretty face. She’s probably making the grocery list for the guys because if she doesn’t, they come back with a cart full of Mountain Dew and beef jerky.

  Patrick’s actions surprise me, though, because I’m so used to him being his snarly, broody self. He actually looks quite boyish, probably because he thinks it’s just the two of them, no one watching. He’s standing beside Everly, and he playfully bumps his chest into her shoulder, staring at her profile, trying to get a reaction as he lowers his face to her ear. I don’t know what he’s whispering, but she’s blushing. I realize then that she’s probably ignoring him on purpose, and maybe she plays into their relationship dynamic more than I first suspected. She’s got him wrapped around her finger, and I can’t wait to be there when he finds out.

  I force my eyes away from them when I hear Zach grit out, “You went on a date with him because you’re pissed at me.” I’m not sure if he wants an explanation, but he’s going to get one because I’m done with his shit.

  “It wasn’t a date. He said he’d help me study. I don’t have any interest in Tim romantically and you know it.” I pause, trying to figure out the best way to word what I’m feeling. “I did go study with him to get away from you, this.” I gesture between us, hoping he understands I’m referring to the awkward sexual and emotional tension that makes me feel like I’m drowning. “I had no idea that he was going to take me to a restaurant instead, and the way he just assumed I’d be willing to go out with him…he’ll never get me to trust him again. Besides, you guys scared him off, so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” I purposely leave out the way he ordered for me at the restaurant and ignored my protests because it would just add fuel to the fire.

  “Do you really think that guy could protect you?” Zach’s voice is hard, and I suspect it’s because he really was worried about my safety, and I do feel a little guilty about that. Not for hanging out with a classmate he didn’t want me to, and not for the jealousy he’s showing, but for making any of them worry about my safety. It wasn’t smart with everything we have going on, and I guess everything has been so chaotic my whole life with my parents constantly bickering and putting each other down that I’ve learned to adapt to things that the average person doesn’t have to. Manipulation like that goes back for generations. Not all abuse is physical, and there was enough mental berating in my family to cause me to put up walls that only Zach has been able to climb. I think that's why I’m numb to the panic I should be feeling about the Learys and the dirty cops, carjackings, and covered up homicides.

  We’re all so fucked up.

  But could Tim protect me, if it really came down to that? I look up at Zach and answer him honestly. “I knew you wouldn’t give him the chance to have to. You always look out for me.” He pulls me to him, and I let him because I’ve missed his touch. The way his hard body molds to mine, and the way his hands seem to find the most intimate way to hold me, without being sexual. “I want what they have,” I say, nodding my head toward the kitchen where Everly and Patrick are cuddled next to the counter. “All or nothing, Zach. But we can’t have that if you don’t feel the same way,” I whisper.

  I don’t sense it coming, but he hoists me up withhis hands on my thighs urging me to wrap them around him, and then his mouth is on mine. I feel him moving, and I’m vaguely aware that we’re heading up the stairs, but all I can focus on are his full lips and the way his tongue is sliding against mine. I bite his lip gently just to hear him groan the way I know he will. We make it to my room, but he doesn’t take us inside. Instead, he presses me against the wall, right there in the hallway. His name tumbles off my lips when he thrusts against me, letting me feel just how much he wants me. I dig my nails into his shoulders, and by the way he rolls his hips, I think he appreciates the pinch of pain.

  But the last time he had me like this, writhing and begging him to take me, the next morning he acted like he barely knew me. If I forget how he made me feel, if it happens again, it’ll be no one’s fault but my own. The push and pull Zach has over me is done, I’m not letting him do it anymore. If he cares about me, he’ll understand why I have to respectfully bow out of this game he started. If he doesn’t, well, then I’ll just have to wreck the board and teach him the new rules of the game.

  I pull back and his needy mouth immediately finds my neck, but I push against his chest and wait for him to let me down. He obliges because if nothing else, Zach always puts my needs above his own. He’d never push me to do anything I didn’t want to, unless my safety was in jeopardy.

  When I’m standing on my now-wobbly legs, I do my best to speak with purpose as he hovers over me, his chest heaving, lungs searching for the oxygen he lost while his lips were on mine.

  “You either want me or you don’t,” I tell him. It’s not a threat or an ultimatum, but he can’t keep playing with my head. “You either want to stay friends, or you want to be more. I’m not playing this game anymore, Zach.” I reach out and brush my knuckles against his, wanting to feel the roughness against my skin one last time. “I deserve better than that.”

  I turn away and push my bedroom door open, and then close and lock it once I’m inside.

  12

  Zach

  “Patrick always gets to stay home with the girls,” Tommy complains as we walk down the frozen foods aisle of the grocery store. He’s acting more like his old self, and even though I know it won’t last forever—he’s eventually going to have to face the music—it’s good to see his spirits high. Henry’s pushing the cart, and I’m only here because I needed to get out of the house. It’s been a few days since the incident with Kennedy and that preppy asshole, and I’m feeling reckless. Like I might lose my cool and just drag her up to my room caveman-style, then lock us in there until I’ve kissed every inch of her body and told her a thousand different ways how much she means to me. How much she’s changed my life. How she is my life. Since her ultimatum in the hallway, she’s not being cold, but she’s not her usual self around me and it fucking kills me.

  “Last time I left you home with the girls, Kennedy locked you in the basement and then locked Miles down there with you when he tried to let you out,” Henry says dryly, pausing in front of a glass case of ice cream, only to turn his nose up and keep walking.

  “She’s a tricky little witch,” Tommy scowls, opening a glass case and pulling out three boxes of pudding pops, then whipping them into the cart like they’re a puck. They’re his and Miles’s favorite. He must have the same thought about Miles because he segues, “We gotta get Miles to come to the next game. I know he’s worried about Cassandra, but it’s getting bad. I went with him to see her, and it doesn’t look good. We need to get his mind off her for a little while.”

  I toss Kennedy’s favorite ice pops in the cart and nod. “He’s been skipping practice a lot, and I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t leave her side if…” I don’t finish the sentence because the thought of Kennedy being in Cassandra’s place cuts my air off.

  “Kennedy’s mad at me,” I blurt out, and both relief and terror fill me. The guys are my family, and even though they know me almost as well as Kennedy does, I keep our private shit to myself out of respect for her. But I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t get it off my chest.

  “She’s not mad at you,” Tommy clarifies as we make our way down another aisle. He holds up two types of jerky for Henry, who turns his nose up at both. Tommy makes a disgusted face when Henry pushes the cart toward the produce section, and then turns his attention back to me. “She’s disappointed.”

  I feel heat flush my face, and it must show because Tommy chuckles.

  “She told you that?” I ask, catching a bag of green peppers that Henry thoroughly inspected then tossed
at me like a football. Setting them in the cart, I glower at Tommy. I shouldn’t be jealous of his relationship with Kennedy, but I am. It’s easy and uncomplicated, like mine should have been with her. But these days, ours is anything but easy.

  “Yes. She always tells me her darkest secrets,” he rolls his eyes before continuing,”Nah, I’m just fucking with you,” he says, laughing when Henry tosses bagged onions at him along with a disapproving look. “I overheard her talking to Everly. She said she was disappointed with the way things turned out, whatever that means.” He shrugs, grabbing the cart and pulling it over toward the apples.

  “It’s getting messy between us. I let shit go too far and…” I stop when he holds a hand up, palm toward me.

  “I will puke if you verbally punch me in the dick by telling me about sexy time with Kennedy.” He fake gags before adding, “She’s a beautiful girl, I’m not denying that, but she’s like my little sister.”

  I laugh deep and hard, and even Henry cracks a smile. “I thought you said she was the spawn of satan?” I ask Tommy, taking the cart back as Henry ties up the bag of oranges, and we head toward the front of the store.

  “She fucking is,” he hisses. “But it’s one of those things, man, I don’t know. Sometimes I want to stuff her in the microwave and turn it on for a couple hours when she’s pushing my buttons. But when that dipshit she met up with the other night was giving her a hard time…”

  “Who was giving her a hard time?” I stop the cart abruptly, causing Henry to stumble into it.

  “Clearly Tim, the only other male she’s been alone with other than us,” Henry says calmly, and I wonder what exactly someone would have to do to get a reaction out of him.

 

‹ Prev