Unsurprisingly Complicated

Home > Other > Unsurprisingly Complicated > Page 9
Unsurprisingly Complicated Page 9

by Claudia Burgoa


  I opened the door and she ordered me to stop. “Don’t take another step, Mason Bradley.”

  “This is stupid,” I pressed my lips together. “Maybe I caught some bug, or I’m coming down with a cold. Stupid MJ coughed all over me.”

  “Wait,” she interrupted. “Mattie? You already visited my brothers and haven’t even called me?”

  “It’s a long story,” I tried to make something up, but nothing came to mind. “Complicated—”

  “I can’t talk to you right now, Mason Idiot Bradley,” she screamed. She pushed me outside and slammed the door in my face.

  I slumped against the door, wondering how the hell I went from having dinner with her to catch up on lost time… to getting thrown out of her house. She called me Idiot. Nice use of my middle initial. This entire night sucked. Those green eyes sizzled with rage, not passion. To think I was close enough to have a taste of her and then… The inquisitive person had to do what she does best, ask shit about my actions. I don’t even know half the shit that’s going on with me.

  I have to find a gig soon and leave this town. Pluto, that’s the furthest I have to be from her.

  “Mattie,” I rush to hug my brother as he arrives at the studio. He lifts me in a bear hug. “Feeling better?” Not that he’s sick. He healed about a week or so ago, but each time he sees me, he reminds me about the bug he caught because of me.

  “Yeah, but no thanks to you.” Then he coughs. “There’s a tickle in my throat. I believe the virus hasn’t cleared completely.” His hooded eyes pin me down after he sets me back on the floor. “Next time you’re sick, I’m sending you soup. Never again will I baby you.”

  “Hey, I babied you, too,” I protest. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner the first few days. I even tried to hire you a nurse to give you a sponge bath.”

  JC laughs because he was helping me search for an old lady to do so, but MJ caught us before I could make the call.

  “God, I think I’m shipping her back to Teijas.” He looks at JC. “Help me find a box big enough that’ll fit her, Jacob.”

  I head back to the piano, but not before I stick my tongue out. Then I start fiddling with the keys of the piano, hiding the smirk.

  “A new one?” MJ points at the music sheets. “If she keeps writing new stuff without us, I’m going to go broke.”

  JC and I just finished a new song. Well, he helped me polish the music. Another perk of being close to my brothers and the studio. This is the fourth song I finished since I moved to Seattle. Usually I write the lyrics and a few riffs, they finish the product, and we split the royalties in equal parts.

  “The money goes to our little company, MJ,” I remind him. “You know I’m all for equality and not taking intellectual claim.”

  “You never claim to be the genius behind the deed, that part will never change,” he retorts, taking the music sheets. “At least we should have told our parents about the evil mind behind the stupidities we did while growing up. I bet they wouldn’t believe it.”

  “They would,” JC snickers. “Then lecture us for doing what our little sister said. There’s no winning. She’s evil but cute and adorable. We were in a no-win situation all along, but at least we had fun.”

  “My, my… someone is in a bitchy mood today,” MJ states while reading the lyrics.

  I’m not a toy

  Nor a doll to play when you’re bored

  Keep your hands and your lips to yourself

  Your stupid lines and idiotic moves

  Today, I need you far away

  And tomorrow too

  [Chorus]

  You are like them,

  Like every man

  There’s no choice but make a voodoo doll

  I’ll pin your stick and crush your lips

  Squeeze your heart like you’re squeezing mine

  To think one night, I prayed

  That you and I were meant to be

  The never ending story I wish to live

  Today I thank my shining stars

  That you’ll never be part of my light

  [Chorus]

  You are like them,

  Like every man

  There’s no choice but make a voodoo doll

  I’ll pin your stick and crush your lips

  Squeeze your heart like you’re squeezing mine

  “Like the chorus,” MJ congratulates me. “If someone can write this hateful shit, it’s you. So, anyone in particular you want to castrate, or any man will do?”

  Giving him a ‘no one, in particular’ shrug, I hood my eyes. When, in fact, there’s one person I want to castrate at the same time I want to kiss until we can make sense of the nonsense swirling around us. That hot and cold charade is not flying anymore. Next time he does that, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.

  MJ places it back on top of the piano and doesn’t finish reading the last three lines.

  But before you disappear

  Behind the shadows and the dark night

  I ask for one last kiss

  One last taste of what we couldn’t be

  “Did you tell her?” JC shakes his head. “Good, I think it’s best if we take her now before she goes back to her crib and changes her clothes.”

  I stop fidgeting with the piano and pay more attention to my brothers.

  “Why do I have to change?”

  I eye my entire outfit.

  A pair of jeans and a yellow blouse, nothing fancy. Cute. My hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and I’m wearing the teardrop diamond earrings my grandparents gave me for my sweet sixteen.

  “No, we don’t want you to change,” my brothers say at the same time. “You’re perfect. Let’s go.”

  I check the time; it’s almost ten at night. I can’t think of many places where these two can take me. A strip club? JC did that two days ago. I had to call MJ to rescue me, but he never answered the phone. I ended up buying my brother a lap dance, and then he agreed to leave and take me to the movies.

  “Payback for taking me with you to the spa,” he told me.

  JC needed to relax; a nice massage was the perfect medicine. He didn’t appreciate it. A guy touched him, and not the hot blonde chick who checked him in when we arrived.

  “Another joke?” I look from JC to MJ a couple of times and both shake their heads.

  They seem sincere, but sometimes honest has a different meaning to my two brothers.

  “Fine, I’ll drive.” I take the music sheet and head to Dad’s office where I file it away.

  “Give me Eleanor’s keys,” JC orders. “I’m driving her. We’ll take her home later; MJ and I can crash there. There’s no way I’ll let you drive at night.”

  I hate when he jumps on his alpha horse and thinks he has to protect me because he thinks of me as the little sister. I pull my purse from the drawer where I usually hide it and hand him one of the sets of keys. A few extra copies, in case of emergencies and what not.

  MJ takes his monster Jeep, a Wrangler with big tires that he uses mostly when he goes camping. I’ve no idea why he’s using it today. I hope they aren’t planning on taking me somewhere I will need sneakers. I’m wearing sandals, for the love of Pete. Great. I’m going to have to take them off and wing it barefoot as usual. If only I had a sister to balance the scale. Nope, I fear she’d be too girly, and I would’ve wanted to drown her before her fifth birthday.

  “Don’t look sour, princess,” JC smiles at me. “You’re going to enjoy this, I promise.”

  “Vogue?” I read the black and white sign.

  JC parks right behind MJ’s jeep, who is handing over the keys to a guy wearing a neon yellow vest. Another guy approaches my door, opens it, and helps me step out of the car. I’m glad I already hid my bag under the seat and grabbed my tiny wallet. A new trick-trinket I bought after Mason had to break in my house. The memory of that night sours my mood. One week and two days counting and the idiot hasn’t called me to apologize. If he thinks sending me cute videos of kittens is going to d
o the trick, he’s wrong. I still want to make a voodoo doll and torture him through it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask JC as we walk to the entrance. “I’d have wanted to dress—different.”

  “Because we don’t want you to wear less fabric. For you, different means showing skin,” he answers, and I serve him with the Decker stink eye. “Trust me, you look fine.”

  I’d rather wear a dress, heels, something a bit flashier than my current clothes. But there’s nothing I can do. The tall broody man with no hair and tons of tattoos on his hands lifts the velvet rope and ushers us inside after shaking my brother’s hands and nodding at me.

  MJ pulls out his phone, taps it, and takes the lead. I follow behind, and JC covers me. Meanwhile, I unbutton my blouse, tie a knot around my waist with the edges of each side, and fix the cleavage of my cami. Then I loosen the hair from the tight ponytail and scrunch it with my hands. There’s no way I’m going to be at a nightclub looking like a dope.

  We step inside a balcony. There’s a table, two women drinking and chatting animatedly while three guys are into some deep discussion. Being close to my brothers means meeting new people, their friends, and having somewhat of a social life. It’s different and a pleasant change from my past life. The music is loud but not deafening inside the balcony. As I scan the room for a second time, I realize that the tall man with the constricted posture and shaggy hair is no other than Mason.

  Damn, I should’ve mentioned to my brothers that I have issues with him. The man who is currently outside of my circle of trust. Mason turns around and smiles at me, his gray eyes have an apologetic tone to him. How can I not forgive him?

  He’s Mase, and I’m weak.

  In seconds, I come up with a plan. Say hello and run to find some guy. There are plenty within reach that can entertain me all night.

  “Look at you.” JC shakes hands with Mason while using his teasing voice. “You do know other humans besides us.”

  Mason gives him a glare, and the two guys beside him laugh at the same time. Both are shorter than Mason; one of them has no hair and bright obsidian eyes. He looks familiar, but I can’t think where I’ve met him before. The other guy has golden hair that shines and a smile that sparkles. Or maybe it’s the glowing lights that flash with the rhythm of the music.

  “Ainse.” Mason takes my hand and pulls me to him. “Glad you could join us. Let me introduce you to Karl Kowalski and Landon Wings.”

  Landon Wings is the golden-brown haired guy who shakes hands with me and introduces me to his wife, Donna.

  “Nine,” the guy who I assume is Karl greets me, extending his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

  Finally? I cock my head trying to understand how it is that he has heard of me. After a thorough inspection of the bulky man, I think I recognize him.

  “I’ve seen you before,” I tell him. “Just can’t remember from where.”

  “We saw him at some of Porter’s concerts,” JC offers. He shakes his hand. “JC Decker. You worked for Mr. Bradley. Didn’t you?”

  Karl looks at me and nods. “The druggy who shagged any available body. I remember.”

  I flinch when he says that. Everyone knew but me. I was such a stupid girl.

  “Worst gig I’ve ever worked,” he says. “And let me tell you, I fought in the war.”

  His wife Karen introduces herself, and MJ introduces himself to everyone. The waiter comes over to take our order. Water for me, and I don’t pay attention to what the rest get because the moment Mason releases me from that possessive hand of his, I scurry away and head to the dance floor.

  There’s a group of guys standing, drinking, and looking around. One of them is wearing a t-shirt of Without A Compass. That’s my brother’s band. At least he has good taste in music. I straighten up my posture, lift my chin, and walk straight to where he is. Except right before the guy and I can exchange words, a steel arm snakes around my waist and pulls me away.

  I order another round of drinks, let Ainse’s hand go to reach for my wallet, and she puffs into thin air.

  “Way to keep an eye on my sister, jackass,” MJ growls. “And how the fuck did she end up looking like that? I swear, she’s going to get us killed.”

  “I don’t know.” JC shrugs, rolling his eyes. “She was dressed like a nun, and suddenly she’s showing a little too much cleavage for my taste. Did you see how many heads she turned as we entered? Those are Christian’s genes, I swear to God. She’s average Jane, but has something that makes guys crazy even without trying, and she looks like she wants to try tonight.”

  Christian genes or not, I leave everyone behind. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let anyone set their eyes on her. She’s still mad at me; I know it because she barely acknowledged me. Hell, she hasn’t texted me since last week when she kicked me out for being an asshole. Patience and endurance, that’s what I need to survive tonight. How am I supposed to behave when she looks like a goddess I want to possess?

  It doesn’t take me long to find her. She’s walking right into a group of guys who are licking their lips as she approaches them. I glare at them at the same time I pull her to me.

  “Don’t even try to escape me,” I whisper and she shivers. “Setting this up so you can have your first nightclub experience is a selfish act on my part. You’re here with me, not a bunch of assholes who only want to fuck you.”

  Ainse escapes from my grasp, pivots around and faces me. She puffs her chest; her daring posture gifts me the view of her beautiful round figure. Lust fills my veins and pumps it through my body.

  “At least they want something with me,” she responds, tilting her chin up and daring me to watch her plump breasts covered by a barely-there piece of fabric. My hands go to her waist; I tighten my grip while concentrating on a mathematical equation that will help my cock stay flaccid. Jealousy has never been part of my life, and she brings that nasty emotion to the surface without trying.

  Fuck, I’m not strong!

  “Please, can we forget whatever is going on between us for one night?” I beg her. “Enjoy today, Nine. Tomorrow you can continue ignoring me and my pictures.”

  She gives me a half smile. Not much, but something to work with for the next few hours. Perhaps by the end of today, I’ll be forgiven.

  The ruthless fight between my logic and the lust I carried wore me down after a couple of hours. As we sway to the rhythm of the song, “You’re The Best Part Of My Life,” a cover for one of her father’s old songs, Ainse sings in my ear; a sweet, tender voice that enchants me like a siren in the middle of the ocean. I succumb to the moment and give in to my need of her.

  Our kiss lasts as long as the song, with the same intensity and the same rhythm.

  “He made that song for me,” Ainse murmurs in my ear. “I was the last one to leave the incubator, and he swore that the song sped up my recovery.”

  I press my forehead to hers; her emerald eyes stare at mine as if trying to solve an enigma or enter inside my body and possess it.

  “It’s funny.”

  I continue holding her, pressing her into me. “What’s funny?”

  “Songs,” she says, moving with me. “Their meaning, what one person thinks and what it actually meant for the person who made it. In the past, I’ve composed mostly when I’m mad. Angry shit, lots of hateful words and emotions. Perhaps one day, I’ll create something different, tender, like your kisses.”

  I flinch because she’s romanticizing what happened only minutes ago. “Whoa!” I release her, putting my hands up in the air, palms facing her. She has to stop. We have to put this nonsense to rest. “It was an insignificant kiss, Ainse. Don’t start…”

  Without notice, she spins around and heads toward the exit, I follow behind. Thankfully, she stops right in front of the valet parking, and I’m able to reach her.

  “Wait!” I hold her elbow. “What happened?”

  “You can’t continue doing this to me.” She unknots the blouse she wears and be
gins to button it. “I’m…You’re fucking with my head, Mason. Not sure why, or what made you think I’m game and you can behave like we’re some kind of friends-with-benefits. You, more than anyone, know the shit I went through.”

  I did. I do. Everything that happened with Porter, from the beginning to the nasty end. How he played with her emotions and… Damn… I comb my hands through my hair and interlace them on the back of my neck.

  “Sorry, Nine.”

  Hurt flashes through her eyes.

  “This.” I wave my finger between us. “You’re hot,” I try to come up with an explanation of my poor behavior without giving away much. “It’s hard not to notice. But us? No way in hell. You’re not…” I shrug, tilting my head to one side, unable to finish the sentence.

  Ainsley bites her lip as she stares at me waiting for something. I can’t tell her that she’s not the type of girl I can dispose of after two hours. Yet, I can’t tell her that she’s the girl I’d want my parents to meet. The type I could fall in love with if I allowed myself that kind of commodity. The girl I can fantasize about but won’t, because I don’t want to have anything serious.

  “I can’t explain.”

  “You can’t or you don’t want to?” Her inquisitive tone takes over. “I’m sure I know why, but let me tell you; being flirty doesn’t mean I’m a slut,” she raises her voice. “Owning clothes that make me feel sexy doesn’t give men the right to think I have no feelings and I’m an easy fuck.” She takes a step backward as I try to grab her hand. “I do have those… feelings. Of all people, I thought you’d know, that you’d be different.”

  Her car arrives and before she turns around, she speaks one more time, “Goodbye, Mason Bradley.”

  “Nine,” I call after her but she ignores me.

  I order my car, catch up with her, and follow close to make sure she arrives at home. Instead of parking at her house, she parks next door and enters that house. Weird. I guess she’s friends with her neighbors. At least she won’t be alone tonight.

  Mase: Never meant to hurt you, Nine.

 

‹ Prev