Live For You (Boys of the South ~ Book 1)

by Marquita Valentine

  “You look just like him,” she says softly, anger draining away from her face and tone. “Don’t really hate you, hun. It’s him, all over your face. In your walk, your voice. You sound just like him. Wonder if you can sing like him too?”

  Her confession doesn’t make me feel better, and it didn’t come with any kind of apology. “I can’t remember what he looks like.”

  “Find a mirror, sugar,” she says, her words slurring. Her lids droop and I lightly smack her cheek. Her eyes pop open. “Maybe it’s better this way. I’m such a fuck up, Cole. I’ve done you so wrong. Yet you still love me, don’t you?”

  I clench my jaw, tears blurring my vision. She knows me too well and I’m a hundred percent sure she’ll use it against me later. “Yeah, I love you. So you can’t pull shit like this.”

  She smirks. “Knew it.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that blood fills my mouth. I stare at the door, willing the emergency personnel to show up. I want out of this, out of my life. I want freedom from my crap existence so bad that I don’t know what to do. But I can’t leave Kelly. Not to this monster for a mother.

  The roar of tires kicking up gravel fills the air and a few second later, who but Officer Ford comes busting through our front door. He takes one look at us, my mother practically draped in my lap now. Blood’s everywhere and his eyes widen at the knife embedded in the wall.

  He’s finally got his excuse to arrest me. I want to laugh at the irony. For once the blood that’s been shed is not directly caused by me. “Step away from her, son.”

  I blink, wipe the back of my hand over my eyes and nod. “She needs help.”

  He speaks into a speaker on his shoulder, then says, “E.M.T. is two minutes away.” Walking slowly into the kitchen, he holds up his hands and focuses his attention on me. “Just back away and put your hands up where I can see them.”

  Figuring the less drama I cause, the quicker this entire situation will be over with, I wrap the towel around Crystal’s arm and then stand. Ford jerks me by the elbow and spins me, slamming my face into the wall. I see stars and my cheek begins to throb.

  “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, could you?” he says, spreading my legs with his knee. He runs his hands down my sides and around the front, quickly and efficiently, as he checks for weapons. “Knew you were going to go off on the wrong person.”

  “I didn’t hurt her,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Right. You just found her, slicing into her own arm and called 911.”

  He’s a damn genius. “Pretty much. Maybe you should offer to do some consulting for one of those CSI shows.” Asshole.

  Apparently, Ford doesn’t find my suggestion helpful or funny. He yanks my hair, snapping my head back and slams my face into the wall again.

  My knees threaten to give out. “Shit!” I blink, my mouth opening wide as I work my jaw.

  “Leave him alone, Brett,” my mother wails. “If you ever cared anything about me, you’ll let him go.”

  What the hell? Ford eases the pressure he’s put on my arms, but he still locks the handcuffs around my wrists.

  He spins me around and I’m shocked beyond reason to see my mother lurching toward us, broken bottle in one hand. She shakes it at Ford and not me. She’s fucking defending me. “Get those damn handcuffs off my son, or so help me God, I’ll cut you.”

  “Jesus Christ, Crystal. The house’s a wreck. You’re both covered in blood and he’s got a mile long rap sheet. What did you expect me to think?”

  Crystal advances a few more steps, blood dripping on the floor as she moves. “I expected you to ask questions.” She staggers to one side and braces her shoulder against the wall. “It was an accident. I cut…myself while… cooking.” Her words are less pronounced now. “Can’t make…me press charges.”

  Ford runs a shaky hand through his buzz cut. His mouth twists.

  The wail of sirens grows louder. Tires crunch over gravel. My heart’s racing, because I have no idea what my mother will do, what Ford will do, or what will happen to me. I’m all my little sister has. Parker’s coming around less and less while Crystal can’t be trusted to stay, much less feed and clothe Kelly.

  “Have it your way,” he says, releasing me from the handcuff and I rush to Crystal. She drops the bottle and falls into me. I sink to the floor with her, stroking her head and saying God knows what.

  “Oh my handsome boy has a booboo?”My mother kisses my finger and wraps a band-aid around the minuscule scratch. “Better?”

  I shake my head and hold out my arms.

  “Need some extra love, baby?” she asks and I nod. A gentle smile curves her lips and she sits down in the floor with me, holding me close while smelling of perfume and booze.

  Crystal gazes up at me, her skin white around her lips. “I saved your ass. Tell me where the money is.”

  I’ll say anything just to keep her talking. No matter how much she continues to hurt me. No matter how much she continues to prove that she’s still selfish as hell. I don’t wish death on her. “Kelly’s room, inside of the bear Miss Violet gave her.”

  Her eyes flutter close. Ford lets in the paramedics. Just as they reach us she leans up and whispers, “Get out of my house.”

  The last pieces of my heart that were reserved for Crystal crumble to dust. Flashing a smirk, I stand, then head to my room, pack up what’s left of my shit and leave.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Violet

  “You have a visitor,” Nana says as she pokes her head into my room. She’s beaming from head to toe.

  Joy bubbles inside of me. It’s Cole. He’s come to apologize or take me out. I close my laptop, pause at the closet mirror to straighten my clothes and run a quick hand through my hair. A dash of cherry lip gloss and I’m practically running down the hallway—

  And straight into Lacey Evans. My new smile falls away and I slow my pace.

  Tonight, she’s wearing a t-shirt with a Wrigley’s Gum slogan and a pair of pants so loose that they resemble a long skirt. The socks on her feet are striped. Had she roller skated down here again?

  Nana gently pats Lacey on the arm. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. Need to pack up for my trip.”

  I wait until she disappears before I even dare to speak. “Did I leave something in your car?”

  Brown eyes water as she stares at a point over my shoulder. Her lower lip trembles and I shove my hands into my pockets so I won’t hug her. She seems so lost and alone…a little vulnerable, and I’m all too familiar with those emotions.

  “I came by to apologize. Again,” she says with a gulp.

  “You’re forgiven,” I say while feeling the exact opposite of benevolent.

  Thick bangs fall in her eyes when she shakes her head, but she doesn’t try to move them out the way. Maybe it’s her version of armor. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, Rae. I’m sorry for not taking you home, too.” She pauses and her nose scrunches a bit, like she’s trying to remember what she’s supposed to say next. “I’d like to do something again. Maybe something you would like doing. What do you like doing?”

  My brows raise. I can’t help it. My anger is slowly ebbing away and a rush of sympathy is replacing it. She came to all the way here to apologize. The least I can do is try again. It’s not like she’d shouted what she’d found on the Internet to the entire restaurant.

  “Oh I don’t know…maybe get our hair or nails done. Go shopping. Go to the movies. Out to eat.” I let a smile curve my lips, the thought of actually doing things with a girl my age making me happy. “I know! We could drive to Charlotte and go to the mall.”

  Lacey steps back, her eyes wide and her face pale. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she repeats, more firmly this time. Her hand comes up, grabbing a hunk of auburn hair and wrapping it around two fingers. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t—” She smashes her lips together and marches to the door, not saying good-bye.

  What did I say? “Lacey?”


  She turns around and marches back to me, one arm swinging. “Nails. I like having my nails painted.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  “This coming Friday, at three. I have to be at work at five. My nails will be dry by then.” Letting go of her hair, she looks at me, straight on this time. “Next time, give me less choices. Can I take home one of your new kittens? I love animals.”

  I blink at her. The change in topic makes my head whirl. “S-sure.” I was planning on putting up an ad at the Piggly Wiggly the next time we went, so one less free kitteh to a good home was a good thing.

  We stand there for a few more minutes, Lacey once again staring at the wall behind me while I look around the room.

  “Should we go to the barn and let you pick out a kitten?” I finally ask.

  She nods and follows me outside. After spending a few minutes with the momma cat, Lacey picks out a black one and rubs her cheek against it. “Soft like Wyatt’s hair,” she whispers.

  I grin. “I don’t think Wyatt would like to be compared to cat fur.”

  She rubs the kitten again. “He wouldn’t mind.”

  No, he probably wouldn’t. “Are you sure Wyatt’s not sweet on you?” I tease when we walk back to the house.

  “Wyatt is my best friend, Rae.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Sometimes, I want more.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?” I ask, then recall what Cole had told me about Wyatt’s parents.

  “I’m not normal. Wyatt deserves normal.”

  In that moment, I feel a kinship with Lacey and almost like I understand where she’s coming from. Both trying to hide the real us. “Honey, none of us are normal. We’re all just trying to get by, without going over the ledge.”

  Lacey pauses, still cuddling the kitten to her face. “And some of us are holding onto the ledge with our fingertips and it’s been raining for days.”

  Slowly, I slip my hand into hers and squeeze gently. For some reason I feel like I can trust her. Or at least try to.

  I let go and follow her to the front porch, before saying good-bye.

  *** *** ***

  Cole

  There’s only one rule of bartending that I live by. Well, other than don’t overcharge the patrons of The Double Deuce.

  Anyway, back to rule number one: Don’t get drunker than your customers. But that rule is fucked all to hell and back tonight.

  I take another shot and shove a wedge of lemon into my mouth. Some hot blonde offered to let me lick salt off of her boobs, but I declined and licked my own arm—at least I think it was my arm.

  Anyway, if my mouth is going to be on some hot girl’s tits, her name better be Rae and she better have short blond hair tipped in purple. A glossy pink mouth made for kissing me and hands that like to grip my shoulders when I’m making love to her against the wall of the shower.

  The room spins. “Shit,” I mumble.

  There’s nothing I’d like more than to go to Rae, but blood is still on my hands and under my skin. I can’t wash it away. “Can’t touch her with these,” I say as money is waved under my nose.

  I look down at the money, then up at the guy holding it. Well, hello again, long coat dude. “Back for another round of getting the shit beat of you.” Not a question. I will beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Again.

  He smirks. “Hundred bucks says you can’t go two rounds with my friend.”

  I roll my head to one side, looking around long coat guy. His friend is standing to the side, head shaved, neck tats to his chin and ear gauges bigger than mine in his lobes. Nodding, I smirk. “Let’s go.”

  Parker suddenly shows up, grabbing my arm. His green eyes, all four of them, gleaming with concern. “Don’t do it. You’re drunk off your ass and we’re slammed. I don’t have time to have your back tonight.”

  I grab my brother in a loose headlock, rumpling his hair. “Love you, Park.” Yeah, I’m actually a nice drunk. A nice, feeling-the-love, can’t-turn-down-a-bet drunk. A total source of hilarity with my friends.

  Parker slips out of my hold and pushes the two fifties back at long coat dude. “Sorry, not tonight boys.”

  “I got your boys right here, son,” Baldy snarls, grabbing his crotch.

  “You have small children tucked in your pants?” Did I mention that I’m a sarcastic drunk, too? “That’ll send you to jail, son.”

  My head hits the shelves behind me, bottles falling and crashing. I wince and rub the back of my head. My eye’s killing me now.

  “Sucker punch? Oh hell, no,” Parker says, jumping up and over the bar.

  Next thing I know, my brother’s on top of Baldy, pummeling the dude for all he’s worth. Long coat dude is circling the duo, watching and waiting. I shake my head, room spinning, blurring and sort of coming back into focus. I climb on top of the bar and crouch down.

  The crowd cheers. Parker stops for half a second to look around.

  Long coat dude sees his chance and pounces.

  So. Do. I.

  *** *** ***

  Violet

  It’s Monday night and I’m all alone.

  This morning Nana left for a week long cruise with a group of ladies that graduated high school with her. Their once a year tradition.

  A part of me misses her company, but a larger part of me is glad she’s not here to see me mope around and generally feel sorry for myself.

  Though I’d never gone to high school due to my touring schedule, I had thought I might have something similar to look forward to with Callie, but sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend tends to strain a relationship. At first I was hurt, then after our argument at Club Blue, I hated her; and when I was broken and bleeding, I only wanted her by my side.

  Callie never came.

  Now it’s as though we were never friends, never knew each other and giggled over boys and clothes.

  I heat up a plate of homemade spaghetti and meatballs. While it’s spinning in the microwave, I fix a side salad and grab the cheese toast from the small toaster oven on the counter, then take all of it to the living room.

  Barely tasting the delicious food, I channel surf, find nothing but some woman gushing over my ex in an interview—he’s branching out into films. I make a face and click off the television, wishing I had someone to talk to.

  Calling Lacey is out of the question, since I still haven’t gotten her number. I haven’t spoken to Cole since Saturday night. Not that I’m keeping time or anything. Maybe this is how things go down in the real world?

  More importantly, nothing else has been reported about my miscarriage on the Internet. Ha! Miscarriage implies a woman loses a baby through no fault of her own. No one made me get in that car and drive, not that I’m aware of, though that text to a cab company will haunt me for the rest of my days. Why didn’t I wait for it?

  Why, why, why?

  Briefly, I place my hands over my stomach. When I think back on that time in my life, it hardly seems real. The hospital stay, the one night in jail once I was discharged from the hospital, the court case, the paparazzi, the community service… all while keeping my secret. Jaxon’s, too.

  But since coming to Forrestville, it doesn’t hurt so bad to dwell on it. I hardly ever dwell on it like I did before, which scares me. I don’t want to forget the pain. I don’t want to forget about the—

  There’s a knock on the door. My heart speeds up, like it knows something I don’t. I walk slowly to the front door, unlock and open it.

  I gasp. My heart goes wild, like it’s suddenly had wings attached to it.

  Cole stands on the front porch. He has a black eye and cuts on his knuckles. My breath hitches in my chest. The last time the guy I loved showed up to see me looking like that, I’d just lost…everything.

  Oh God. I love Cole.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cole

  Rae stares at me with wide blue eyes, as if she can’t believe I’m here. This makes me feel like a total dick. I should feel
like one, because I haven’t texted or called her since Saturday night.

  “Cole?” She seems to sway forward, but I don’t dare let her touch me. One touch and I’ll have those tiny shorts and even smaller tank top off of her before she can blink. At the last second she steps back and crosses her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  I have this entire speech planned out. One that begins with how much I’ve enjoyed being with her and ends with we’re better off without each other, but now that I’m within kissing distance of her…I can’t bring myself to say it.

  I need this girl, but I’ll never be good enough for her. Ever. The best thing to do for her would be to spit out the words I’d rehearsed on the way over.

  However, the most selfish part of me, the part that doesn’t give a good damn about if I’m good enough for her or not, takes the speech out of my brain and stomps on it, then sets the entire thing on fire.

  “I’ve missed you,” I blurt. Awesome. All these words burning up inside of me and the only thing I can snatch from my brain is about missing her? “Sorry about not texting you. I had a family emergency, nothing to worry about though.” Well, if you don’t count my mother trying to kill herself for attention and money, and I don’t have a place to live.

  Relief and concern shines in her eyes. Whatever kind of past she has, it didn’t include guys who don’t call the next day. Or maybe I’ve gotten so use the “relationship” that I have—had with Madison I don’t know any better.

  “I missed you, too,” she says softly. “Want to come inside?”

  Though I’d love to do nothing more, I hesitate. “Will your Nana mind?”

  A fine blush spreads over her cheeks. “She’s gone for the week. So, it’s just me.”

  Now this is good news. The best I’ve had since yesterday. “So, you’re saying that I have complete access to your very hot body, without the worry of a chaperone or curfew?”

  That blush of hers deepens, then spreads down to her throat. “Yes.”

  I step closer, reaching out to trace the skin along the top of her tank. “Does this also mean I can spend the night?”