That anger only amplifies when another text pings through.
Figuring it’s Masie again, I open it, ready to reply with a text that might make me look like the biggest bitch ever, but it’s not from her. It’s from the unknown number.
Unknown: Nope, I know I don’t have the wrong number, Alexis. I know who I’m texting, just like you know Blaine will never love you.
Confusion and panic spin through me.
Me: Then, who the hell is this?
They don’t answer right away and, for some reason, I feel like I’m being messed with.
Or maybe the text message is from Masie. I mean, before today, I wouldn’t have thought she’d do something like this, but now …
As my mind crams with thoughts and emotions, I stuff my phone into my pocket and walk away to go stain more walls with paint.
To get back my brief moment of contentedness.
Six
West
It’s bugging the hell out of me as I drive away from Alexis’s house—that sad, hurt look in her eyes … I can’t stand it. While I know I won’t be able to take her pain away, there is one thing I can do. Will it get me in trouble? Yep, probably. And if my dad finds out, he’ll beat my ass. But I’m used to that sort of crap—the anger my dad directs toward me. Deep down, I know he hates me. And I used to wonder why—why he hated me so much—honestly, though, I no longer care. At least that’s what I tell myself in order to get through the day.
Get through life.
I drive straight from Alexis’s to Blaine’s house. His truck is in the driveway, so I know he’s here.
I send him a text before I hop out.
Me: Meet me outside.
As I’m hiking up the driveway, the front door is opened and Blaine walks out. I keep my cool pretty well until Masie steps out behind him.
Mascara is smeared all over her face, and her eyes are swollen. Clearly, she’s been crying. But I don’t care. Masie is a stuck-up snob who has always been a terrible friend to Alexis—trying to change her and constantly pointing out her flaws. And now she’s hooked up with Blaine. Not that I’m surprised. They’re both perfect for each other. Plus, Masie always gets what she wants, no matter who gets hurt. Trust me; I know firsthand about the damage Masie can do just to get what she wants. Like the time she convinced me to steal for her. Not that it was totally her fault. I was the dumbass who did it.
“You’re seriously with her right now?” I ask Blaine as I start up the porch.
Blaine’s forehead creases as he glances from Masie to me. “Yeah … Why do you sound so upset about it?”
I roll my tongue in my mouth, biting back my irritation. “Do you even care that you hurt Lex today?”
“Why do you care about this so much?” Blaine asks with an arch of his brow.
“Because Lex and I are friends.”
“Since when?”
I inch toward him, the porch’s boards creaking under my boots. “She’s just as much my friend as she is yours. Seriously, after this, she’s probably not your friend at all.”
His expression falters. “Look, I don’t know what she told you, but I didn’t lead her on or anything. I’ve always made it clear I just want to be friends with her.” He rubs his hand across his head, letting out a loud exhale. “Things just got so messed up.”
“You think?” I say with a raise of my brows.
He sighs. “Look, can you just talk to her for us? I know she’s not a fan of yours, but it seems like you’re the only one she’ll talk to right now, so …” He shrugs.
I shake my head. “If you want to talk to her, do it yourself.”
Masie steps forward and laces her fingers with Blaine’s. “West, please just tell her to talk to us. We know we messed up, but it’s not our faults that we like each other.”
“You should’ve told her,” I tell her. “You’re her best friend. She shouldn’t have found out the way she did.”
“I know,” she agrees. “But all I can do is apologize. And I can’t even do that if she won’t talk to me.”
“Why do you need to apologize?” Blaine asks Masie. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I shake my head in annoyance. “She stabbed Lex in the back.”
“It’s not Masie’s fault Lex likes me.” A trace of a smile tugs at his lips. “And frankly, can you blame her? I’m pretty damn hot,” he tries to joke.
It sets something off inside me. Something that burns underneath my skin.
I ball my hands into fists. “Are you being serious right now?”
Blaine holds up his hands in front of him. “Dude, chill. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Even though I still don’t think me or Masie did anything wrong, I know Lex’s feelings are hurt, but it’s not like I was dating her or anything.”
Hearing him call her Lex is what makes me snap.
I take a swing, my knuckles colliding with his jaw.
He stumbles back, landing on his ass and clutching his face. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” he growls, his face red.
“Jesus, West,” Masie breathes out, tears falling from her eyes as she rushes toward Blaine. “Why did you do that?”
I look down at Blaine. “He’s an asshole. That’s why I did it.”
Blaine’s lips part to say who the hell knows what when the door behind him is opened and out steps his dad, dressed for work in his police uniform.
Yeah, did I forget to mention Blaine’s dad is a cop?
“What’s going on?” he asks as he scrutinizes the three of us.
“West just sucker punched me,” Blaine gripes, getting to his feet.
Blaine’s dad looks at me then back at his son. “You want me to take him in?”
Blaine looks at me, his eyes cold. “Yeah, I do.”
I shake my head, but I’m not surprised. Back in the day, I would’ve been. But like I said, Blaine’s changed a lot over the last year or so.
Blaine’s dad gives a nod then turns to me. “Come on, West. If you cooperate, I won’t handcuff you.”
“I don’t give a shit about being handcuffed.” No, what I give a shit about is when my dad hears about this later. He’s going to kick my ass.
Fuuuck.
As I walk away from the porch beside Blaine’s dad, I cast one final glance at Blaine.
“We’re done,” he mouths.
I give him a thumbs-up. I totally agree.
Seven
West
My dad is a well-respected lawyer in town, one who has a lot of connections to a lot of important people, and that’s probably why Blaine’s dad decides not to haul me into the station. Instead, he drives me home.
I’d much rather have gone to the station.
“So, what were you and my son fighting about?” Blaine’s dad asks as he steers into my neighborhood.
Most of the houses on the street are at least two-stories and have three-car garages. My house is one of the biggest and fanciest, but it’s all for show. Everything about my life is.
“A girl,” I mutter, trying my best not to breathe through my nose. The stench of the back seat of his patrol car smells like vomit. I’m pretty sure it’s coming from a yellow stain on the floor.
“Isn’t it always?” He nods understandingly as he turns into my driveway. “My advice is for the both of you to move on from the girl you’re fighting over. Your friendship is important to Blaine, and I wouldn’t want to see that ruined because of some girl.”
Some girl? Lex is definitely not some girl. Just like my and Blaine’s friendship isn’t that important. Just like I know he’s more than likely saying this so he can stay on my dad’s good side and keep on receiving those big, fat donations my dad writes the police department every year. I nod anyway, just so he’ll stop talking about this.
“Yeah, okay.”
He smiles then climbs out of the car and opens the door for me.
I climb out, massaging the hand I hit Blaine with.
“I’m going to let you take th
is from here,” Blaine’s dad tells me, glancing at the front door as my mother steps out, a look of disappointment on her face. He waves at her then moves to get back into the car. “You should put some ice on that hand. It’ll keep it from swelling.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“And you can pick up your car whenever,” he adds as he ducks back into his vehicle. “Just as long as you don’t pick another fight with my son, understand?”
I nod again, but it takes a lot of effort this time.
I grit my teeth and stand there as he backs out onto the road and drives away. Even when he’s long gone, I don’t budge.
Maybe if I just stand here, I’ll disappear.
“Get inside now,” my mom snaps, crushing my hopes of sudden invisibility.
Biting down on my tongue, I start toward the house.
When I reach her, she shoves me inside and smacks the back of my head.
“So, what did you do this time?” she asks, slamming the door behind us.
I shrug. “I punched Blaine. But, in my defense, he deserved it.”
She glares at me. “Is he going to press charges?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She smooths her hands over her hair then across the front of her dress. “I have some guests coming over tonight. You can stay in your room until dinner.”
I turn for the stairway, confused as to why my mom is letting me off the hook so easily.
“And this isn’t over yet,” she calls out. “I’ve got other things to do right now, but later, I’m going to talk to you about this. And you will be punished when your father gets home, and we will be going over the house rules—again, since you’re so stupid you can’t seem to remember them.”
I smash my lips together as my hands begin to tremble at the mention of my dad. I hate that I react this way, hate that I’m so afraid of him, even now at almost eighteen years old. I wish I were stronger. But my mind is filled with memories of my weakest moments and all of them include my dad.
A kick to the stomach, and then he drags me to my bedroom by my hair.
“If you ever embarrass this family like that again, I’ll lock you away. Do you understand?” he growls in my face.
I nod, tears streaming down my face.
“Good.” Not a single drop of emotion shows on his face or in his voice as he throws me into my room hard enough that I bang my elbow against the hardwood floor.
More tears burn my eyes as I regret ever accepting Blaine’s dare to steal that game. I didn’t think I’d get caught, but it turns out that almost everyone in this town knows my family and reports back to my dad with what I do.
And every time they do, I get punished.
I swallow hard at the memory. It was one of the first times my dad kicked me. I was eight years old. But it wasn’t the first time he had hurt me.
A few days later, Blaine noticed bruises on my side while we were swimming. When he asked what they were from, I lied and said I’d fallen off the trampoline.
It was the first time I had to lie about a wound my father put on me, but it wouldn’t be the last.
“Do you understand me, West?” my mom asks in a low tone, tearing me away from the painful memory and slamming be back to a soon-to-be agonizing reality.
I want to tell her no, that I don’t understand why my dad has to beat me. But all I do is nod then silently walk up the stairs, knowing there’s no use arguing about it.
While my punishment is probably going to be brutal, I don’t regret punching Blaine. Partially because I care about Lex and partially because, at this point, I’ve become numb to my parents’ punishments. Maybe that’s why I do what I do next. Or perhaps I’m just living up to my reputation of being the piece of shit my parents believe I am.
Whatever the reason, once I get into my room, I send out a text to Holden and Ellis, a couple of guys who I’ve been hanging out with for the last handful of months. They’re a year older than me, and no one really knows I hang out with them. Especially not Blaine. If he knew, he’d probably ask why the hell I was hanging out with a bunch of druggies, if I’d lost my damn mind. And, while my parents know I used to hang out with them, they banned me from doing so. Not that I listen to them.
When I hang out with them, I get a break from having to be the upbeat West that everyone thinks they know, because there’s this unsaid rule between the three of us that we don’t talk about personal shit. Although, I do know a little about Holden and Ellis due to times when we get a little too stoned or drunk and spend a little too much time yammering.
While Holden and Ellis get in trouble sometimes, they’re not bad guys. From what I know, Holden grew up in foster homes after his parents abandoned him until he turned eighteen. Then he got his own place on the bad side of town. Rumors are constantly floating around that he’s involved with a group of drug dealers, which is true, but he’s a decent enough guy despite that. Sure, he’s had it rough and is kind of intense, but he’s had my back more than Blaine has over the last few months. Plus, I feel like I can just be whenever I’m around him. I don’t have to play some stupid part that I’m not right for.
As for Ellis, he’s had it just as rough. His parents were killed when he was younger and, from what I heard, it happened right in front of him. I’ve never actually asked him about it. Then he was adopted at age five and, while he rarely talks about his adoptive parents, I get this weird vibe that something wasn’t right with the family who raised him. Not that I’ve ever asked about that, either. I understand not wanting to talk about stuff like that since I sure as hell don’t tell people about the shit that goes on in my house. If I did and my dad found out, things would be worse than they already are.
Me: Hey, anyone up for hitting up the skatepark? I need to get the hell out of my house.
Holden: Sure. You wanna pick us up or meet us there?
Me: My car’s at Blaine’s, so we’ll have to meet there unless Ellis wants to drive.
Ellis: If I can get my truck started, I can. But, why’s your car at Blaine’s?
Me: I got into a fight with him and his dad hauled my ass home in his cop car.
Holden: About time you got tired of that asshole. Please tell me you got a few good swings in.
Me: I sucker punched him pretty hard.
Holden: Man, I wish I had been there to see that.
Ellis: What the heck started the fight? I know he’s been getting on your nerves, but you don’t really get into fights.
He’s right. I haven’t got into many fights, although my parents will tell you differently since they love to blow everything I do out of proportion.
Me: Because he was treating Lex shittily.
Holden: Aw, the infamous Lex. The girl we’ve heard you talk about, but you never let her come hang out with us.
Yeah, as much as I like Ellis and Holden, bringing Lex into their world, one that can get questionable sometimes, doesn’t seem like a good idea.
Me: It’s not that I don’t let her. She just wouldn’t want to … I’m not really her favorite person.
Holden: You always say that, but from what I’ve heard, Alexis seems more like us than she does that asshole she hangs out with all the time and that blonde girl … I can’t remember her name, but she’s a straight-up bitch.
Me: Her name’s Masie, and she is a bitch. But Alexis is … complicated. She used to not be as intense, but then her parents died and she changed.
Ellis: I didn’t realize her parents died.
Me: It was a car accident.
Ellis: That’s really sad.
Me: I know.
The text stream pauses for a beat, and I start to get up to change, when another buzzes through.
Holden: So, have you thought any more about our proposition?
I chew on my bottom lip, unsure of how to reply.
A couple of weeks ago, I was high as a mothereffer while we were all hanging out. I sometimes get a little chatty when I get like that and may have t
old a little bit more about my shitty homelife than I meant to after they had implied that I had an easy life because I came from a family of wealth.
“Look, I know I’ve had it easy with some aspects, and I haven’t ever had to worry about having a roof over my head and shit like that, but having money doesn’t mean my life is some fantastic picnic. My dad’s an asshole,” I tell them as I lounge back on the torn sofa at Holden’s place.
Holden takes a drag off a joint, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “He yell at you? Or is it darker than that? Come on, rich boy,” he mocks with a grin, “tell us all about your shitty life.”
I don’t take his mocking personally. That’s just how Holden is. I kind of like that about him—that he isn’t fake like a lot of other people I know.
I waver for a second, knowing I shouldn’t tell the truth, because my dad warned me that he’d beat my ass if I ever told anyone what really went on in our house, but my mind is too cloudy to think rationally.
“Darker.” I gesture at a bruise on my face. “The asshole did this to me the other day because one of my grades slipped below a B.”
“Why does that even matter?” Holden asks, passing me the joint.
I shrug, taking the joint from him then taking a hit. “Because”—I make air quotes—“ ‘bad grades make me look stupid, which makes our family look stupid.’ ”
“That’s really dumb logic,” Ellis mutters as he pops a cap off a beer.
“For sure,” I agree, taking another hit. “But he’s always worried about how everyone sees him.”
“And yet, he doesn’t care that they might see that he beats his kid?” Holden asks with a brow raise.
“No. He knows I won’t tell anyone.” I admit.
“If you ever tell anyone about this,” he once told me, “I’ll make sure you can never speak again.”
It was right after he beat me so badly that he broke my arm. I learned my lesson that day: Keep silent or end up broken.
Not that I’m not already broken.
“Maybe you can move out,” Ellis suggests. “Don’t you have, like, a trust fund or something?”
Signed with a Kiss: A Novel (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1) Page 6