What I Need

by J. Daniels

  What I Need

  Copyright @ 2017 J. Daniels

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and other elements portrayed herein are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons or events is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, storied in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.

  Cover Design

  Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Interior Design & Formatting

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Contents

  What I Need

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Author's Note

  Sneak Peek at Say I'm Yours

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements

  Books by J. Daniels

  About The Author

  To all the Certified Bama Girls out there.

  Thank you for wanting this story. And more importantly, for waiting for it.

  “Never again, tequila. Never. Again. You're dead to me.”

  -Riley Tennyson

  “ARE YOU FUCKING serious? You’re still going?”

  I lift my eyes in the mirror and lower the tube of lipstick in my hand.

  Richard is standing in the doorway of our bedroom, leaning against the frame with half hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, looking pissed and a beer or two away from being full blown drunk. He takes a swig from the bottle in his hand, squints, and points it at me.

  “This is fucked up, Ri,” he slurs. “Seriously. Way to back me.”

  I sigh as an ache pinches in the center of my chest. “He’s my brother,” I remind him. “Honestly, what do you expect me to do?” I stand from my vanity stool and walk over to the duffle bag opened on the bed, further explaining, “I can’t miss Reed’s wedding. And Beth is like, my closest friend. I’m in the wedding party. I have to go.” I slip the tube of lipstick into my makeup bag, zip it closed and pack it inside the duffle. I grip the sides and look up at Richard when I’m finished. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, hoping my words sink in this time. “I’m kind of stuck. You know I want you there with me. I don’t want to go to this without you, it’s just—”

  “It’s just your brother is a fucking dickhead and you’re backing him instead of sticking up for me,” he snaps, cutting me off. “Probably think he was right in firing me too.”

  My shoulders drop.

  “Don’t say that. You know that’s not true.”

  “Yeah? Do I know?” His brows reach his dark hairline. Before I have the chance to respond, Richard straightens in the doorway and shakes his head, looking disappointed in me. “What-the-fuck-ever,” he grates, swiping his free hand through the air in a brush-off motion. “Go. Do what you want. I don’t really want you here right now anyway.”

  I blink. “What? Why?”

  He doesn’t really mean that, does he? Why wouldn’t he want me here? What did I do? I didn’t get him fired.

  I move to offer some sort of comfort—my hand squeezing his or my arms wrapping around his back—needing to give it as much as I crave to feel it myself, but halt a foot away when Richard’s head jerks up and I see his eyes. Eyes that are burning now, heated with anger and bitterness and blame.

  And it’s all for me.

  “This is fucked up,” he snarls. “You’re my girl. We’re together and I don’t get invited to this shit?”

  I bite the tremble in my lip. Tears threaten to build behind my lashes.

  I can’t really argue with Richard on this one. I feel the same way. But what can I do? I can’t bring someone with me to the wedding who’s specifically not invited. That’ll just cause tension, and I don’t want anything messing up this weekend. That wouldn’t be right to Reed or Beth.

  “I’m only staying tonight,” I announce, hoping a shortened trip will help smooth things over. “I’m leaving after the wedding. Right after it’s over. I’ll probably be back before you even have time to miss me. And then I’ll be home and we can look for jobs together. I’ll help you.” I take a step closer. “Okay?”

  “No, it’s not fucking okay.” He narrows his eyes at me. “What the fuck? Are you seriously asking me that? You’re still going, Ri. You’re still taking his side over mine, so how the fuck can any of this be okay?”

  “I’m not taking his side. I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m trying to do what’s right, and I don’t really know what that is. But I’m trying. I’m trying, Richard. Please understand. I-I . . .” I fall apart shaking my head. The pain in my chest seems to spread out and out and out until I can feel it everywhere. It’s wrapped around me now. I take a deep, shuddering breath as tears roll past my cheeks. “I have to go,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me for this.”

  A hard smile tightens his mouth. Richard lifts his beer and takes a chug, keeping his unforgiving eyes locked with mine. When he’s finished, he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Trying to do what’s right,” he mocks, shaking his head. “Traitor.”

  I flinch. “I told you, I’m not choosing sides. I’m staying neutral,” I remind him, wiping carefully underneath my eyes. “God, don’t you see how difficult this is for me? I love you, but he’s my brother.”

  “Bitch, you shouldn’t be staying neutral. He fucked me over. Are you forgetting that? You should be choosing me. That’s the problem right there, Riley.”

  I pull in a breath. I hear one word out of his mouth. One.

  “What did you just call me?”

  Richard shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. “You’re acting like one. Just calling it like I see it.”

  My mouth drops open.

  Richard’s never spoken to me this way before. Never. Is it the alcohol?

  How many has he had?

  “Take it back,” I whisper.

  He stares at me. Eyes hard. “You still going?”

  “I have to go.”

  “Then no. You’re choosing him. You’re a bitch.”

  I feel my jaw clench.

  When people are angry, they say things they don’t mean. And when alcohol is involved, that only loosens the tongue further.

  But excuses aside, I break. A person can only take so much.

  “Yeah, well, you know what? You’re being a giant dick,” I hiss, emotion causing my voice to shake. “I get that you’re upset and mad at my brother, but you’re taking it out on me. And I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of it. I have done nothing but be supportive of you this past week after you got fired and this is what I get for it? No.” I shake my head as more tears fall. “I change my mind. I don’t want you coming with me this weekend. I’m glad Reed forbid you to be my plus one. And as of right now, I’m taking sides.” I stick my hands on my hips and tip forward. “His.”

  “Get the fuck out of my house,” Richard growls. “Take your shit and go to that asshole’s wedding. Do whatever the fuck you wanna do. Please. See if I give a fuck.”

  “Oh, I will! And just so you know, I’m going because I want to go,
not because you’re giving me permission. Trust me. There is nowhere else I would rather be this weekend.”

  “Yeah? Well I feel the same fucking way!” he roars, turning on his heel and disappearing into the hallway.

  “Great!” I yell back, spinning around and marching toward the bed. Face a mess. Eyes still watering. Sniffling like crazy.

  God . . . what just happened?

  I pull myself together and make to leave. I begin frantically packing the rest of my things for the trip—my overnight clothes, my pillow, a few outfits—and even though Richard isn’t standing in the doorway anymore, I still keep at him as if he hasn’t moved.

  “You’re taking everything out on me, like I’m the one who fired you. All week you’ve been giving me shit about it. I don’t deserve that. I deserve better than that! And you know what? I bet Reed would understand if I didn’t show up this weekend, because he’s an understanding person, but you’re not! You’re expecting me to choose between you and my family. That isn’t fair. It’s not fair. But you know what? I’ll choose. You want me to choose? I’m choosing right now.”

  I step into my beige platform wedges, grab my clutch and keys off the night table, sling my duffle over my shoulder and march out of the room, fury in each step.

  I pass Richard standing in the kitchen.

  “Tell that fucker I said I hope she stands him up,” he mumbles behind whichever number beer he’s nursing.

  Asshole.

  “Tell him yourself next time you see him at work,” I holler out. “Oh, that’s right. You won’t be seeing him, `cause you don’t have a job!”

  I reach for the doorknob with my chin tipped up. I ignore the tremble in it.

  “Fuck you!” Richard yells.

  My back snaps straight. I swivel my head around. “Fuck you!” I yell back.

  Then I slam the door shut behind me, getting myself into the driver’s seat of my car before I break down again. With tears flowing freely, I back out of the driveway and head for Sparrow’s Island.

  Single.

  IT’S STRANGE HOW quickly one emotion can morph into another. And how it can happen so seamlessly, you don’t feel the change before it’s too late.

  One second you’re upset. Sobbing. Hand to your mouth and heartbroken. And in the very next second . . .

  You’re angry.

  I leave the house crying. I pull onto the freeway with tears streaming down my face and all of my pain, every shred of it directed at Richard, but as I drive farther and farther away from that house, something changes.

  The blame shifts.

  Reed.

  My hands grow tighter around the wheel. I become furious and filled with aggravation.

  And I have every right to feel this way.

  Yes, Reed hates Richard, he has for a while, and yes, he had reason to fire him—you can only be late so many times before any employer grows tired of it—but did he really need to go as far as to forbid me to bring him as my date?

  God, that hurt. That hurt a lot.

  Maybe not Richard—he seemed more pissed about it than anything—but it hurt me. Reed hating the man I love hurt me. It always did. I didn’t understand it, considering Reed never gave me a real reason for his strong dislike toward my boyfriend, but I ignored it. I got really good at ignoring unwanted opinions. I didn’t let it affect my relationship. Not with Richard or my brother. But this? I can’t take this.

  Reed couldn’t cut me a break this one time?

  They could’ve stayed clear of each other. I’m sure the beach is big enough. And who’s to say Richard would’ve even come with me? I don’t know if I’d want to attend my ex-boss’s wedding, but at least the invite would’ve been there. This wouldn’t seem like a deliberately hurtful move on my brother’s part. And Richard wouldn’t feel as if I was choosing sides. The invitation should’ve been left open. I mean, come on, I think it’s just common courtesy to invite your sister’s long-term boyfriend to a family event, no matter if you like him or not.

  But Reed couldn’t be courteous. He couldn’t be understanding of my feelings for one second. He couldn’t stop and think about how banning Richard would affect me, and because of that, I’m angry.

  But this is different than any other time I’ve been mad at Reed for something. Because right now, I’m angry on top of being hurt with him, a hurt I’ve been feeling for a while. This is a deep wound.

  Probably the deepest I’ve ever had.

  I arrive two hours late to the ocean front venue, and because I’m so wound up with frustration, I don’t feel any guilt for missing the rehearsal dinner and not giving anyone a heads-up about it. I don’t even feel the pain in my heart one would typically feel after a break-up.

  It’s as if I’m on auto pilot. I’m programmed to only feel that anger now.

  After getting my room key from the nice woman at the front desk and tossing my things onto my bed, I take off in search of my brother.

  I need to yell at him a little. Express my opinion. Then I’ll feel better.

  And shortly after that, I need to find some alcohol.

  Then I’ll really feel better.

  I walk around the resort in search of the Tiki Bar.

  During the drive, between the several missed calls from Reed I ignored, I received two texts from Beth. One asking if everything is okay since she knows what I’ve been dealing with at home, and one telling me they’d all be hanging out at the bar after the rehearsal and to come find them there.

  So, that’s where I go looking.

  Walking around the resort, the cool breeze off the water tickles my bare neck as I follow the sandy path and the heavy bass from the music playing in the distance. As I get closer, I spot colored lanterns strung around palm trees and torches burning.

  There are bodies everywhere on the dance floor. Packed like cattle, dancing and singing and celebrating.

  Everyone appears to be in a great mood. Probably because they all have boyfriends who were invited to tag along on their vacations. I bet their brothers all approve of their relationships too.

  Must be nice.

  I scan the crowd first, then look over toward the bar, not seeing Reed or any of his friends. After cutting through the horde, I finally spot Ben Kelly sitting at a table.

  He’s hard to miss.

  It’s the muscles. And the tattoos. And the overall look of his face.

  The man has a really nice face.

  Ben’s wife Mia is sitting beside him holding one of their kids. Next to her is Tessa, Reed’s best friend and Ben’s sister. I’ve known her for years. A little on the crazy side, but she’s always been nice to me. Luke Evans is sitting close to her, drinking his beer and smiling. He works with Ben on the police force and married Tessa last year.

  He’s also very hard to miss.

  The bad cop to Ben’s good cop. Luke Evans always looks a second away from beating the shit out of somebody.

  And it’s bizarrely hot.

  Reed and Beth are sitting together at the end of the table, and once I see Reed I start moving with purpose.

  I push my way through the crowd and march across the dance floor. I’m fuming by this point, mainly because I’m staring at the man who couldn’t be reasonable for one second in his life and because of his actions, I am now a day away from being homeless.

  Our eyes lock when I get a few feet away.

  “Finally,” Reed says through an exhausted breath after spotting me. He slides Beth off his lap and they both stand, her staying behind him, then he takes a step closer and regards me with irritation burning in his gaze. “Where have you been?” he questions harshly. “I’ve been calling you for hours. You know you missed the rehearsal?”

  I narrow my eyes, ready to attack, then remember I’m not mad at anyone else here besides my brother and figure I need to cool it a little and address the group.

  “Sorry I was late,” I say. “But I don’t really see what the big deal is. It doesn’t take a genius to know how to carry a thing of
flowers and walk twenty feet.” I direct my attitude-heavy honesty at Reed before looking at the others.

  I’m not close with anyone else here besides Beth, but I know everyone. We’ve been at the same get-togethers before. We’ve chatted a little. I’d consider us friendly.

  I acknowledge the group with a weak smile. It’s all I can seem to muster up right now.

  Then before I direct my attention back at Reed, my eyes move past the table and freeze dead, locking onto a broad chest thick with big, bulging muscles.

  I blink. Oh . . . wow. That’s impressive looking. Have I ever seen a chest like this before?

  The owner of this award-winning display of athletic physique is standing off to the side at the end of the table closest to Ben.

  The crowd must’ve obstructed him when I first noticed everyone else. That’s the only explanation I have for missing this guy, because I am certain I would’ve noticed whoever this is.

  I’d have to be blind not to notice.

  Curiosity finally tilts my head up, and I meet winter blue eyes. My breath catches the tiniest bit as I instantly recognize CJ Tully, another member of the Ruxton Police Department.

  We’ve never met. Not officially, anyway. I’ve seen him with Ben and Luke around town. And we had a brief run-in once I’m betting he doesn’t even remember. But before I ever saw CJ around Ruxton, Reed talked about him. Beth almost dated him too, which could’ve caused weirdness between the three of them, but it didn’t. They’re all good friends.

  I know who CJ is, I’ve just never been in a situation where anyone would introduce us.

  That’s about to change though. We have to meet. He’s in the wedding party.

  My eyes widen as that thought blooms in my mind.

  Oh, God . . . the wedding party.

  I’m paired up with Mr. Fantastic Chest!

  How did I forget that? I was told this information months ago. Shit. All the arguing I’ve done with Richard the past couple of days must’ve distracted me and now I am completely unprepared for my duties involving close contact with a man who uses handcuffs on a daily basis, and who most likely looks phenomenal using those handcuffs.