My Sweet Demise (Demise #1)

Home > Other > My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) > Page 22
My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) Page 22

by Shana Vanterpool


  I grin at her.

  She glares at me.

  I open my door and get out, running to my big sister. The moment she stands I jump and wrap my arms and legs around her. I inhale the smell of her perfume, a familiar combination of fruit and honey.

  She hugs me back, her anger subsiding momentarily. “It’s so good to see you, Rain.”

  “I know. I missed you big time.” I slide down and land on my feet, beaming at her. “Did you get a new tattoo?” I touch the blood red rose encasing her left arm, the silver thorns wrapping around her elbow. It’s beautiful. “Did you design it?”

  “Why are you late?” she demands, in no mood for small talk. She takes her sunglasses off her head and puts them over her hazel eyes.

  “I forgot to set my alarm and overslept.” She is in Mom Mode right now. “I’m sorry. Let’s go get something to eat and drink. My treat.”

  “Better be your treat. I’m broke until next semester thanks to you.” She grabs her luggage and starts dragging it over to my trunk.

  I hurry to unlock it for her. Together she and I lift the massive red and gold suitcase into the back of my car.

  “How long are you staying?” I ask, slamming my trunk down.

  She looks at me through her shades. “For at least a week. Lucky for you I don’t have any projects due.”

  “You make it sound like I don’t want you here.” I frown at her, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You won’t once I get going. Why were you really late picking me up?”

  “Let’s go eat, Rebecca,” I suggest again, using her full name for proper emphasis.

  “Why are you so hungry, Raina? Have you been working up an appetite?”

  To hide my smile I glare. “Listen, I haven’t seen my big sister in a long time and I miss her. I’d love to go get something to eat and have a few drinks with her. Is that such a bad thing to want?”

  “Since when do you drink?”

  She’s impossible! I open her door and wave my hand. “Get in the car, Rebecca.”

  Rather pompously and slowly, every movement suggesting she’s doing it because she wants to and not because she has to, she gets into the car. I slam her door shut and walk around front, getting into the driver’s seat. When I pull away we’re trapped. She even locks the doors, probably sensing the similarities between the car and a prison cell. I am locked in the car with Rebecca O’Connor, and I’m absolutely terrified.

  “What’s going on?” She takes her sunglasses off and hangs them from the collar on her tank top. “Why do you look like you got into a bar fight?”

  I was waiting for her to mention my face. Some part of me had hoped she’d overlook it. “I got into a fight last night.”

  She gasps. “A fight? With who?”

  I pretend it takes a lot of concentration to switch lanes, subsequently taking a long time to answer her question. “With one of Kent’s sort of exes.”

  “You’re fighting women for him now? For that piece of dog shit?”

  “Becca! He is not dog shit!”

  “No, you’re right. Dog shit has far more of a place in this world. All Kent is to anyone is a sexy body and a dick that gets around. He can’t possibly possess anything more.”

  “He’s more than his body, Becca. Everyone’s more than their looks. You’re beautiful. What if people think all you are is a pretty face and your tattoos?”

  “They would be wrong,” she states simply, failing to offer a convincing argument. “Kent is nothing. He’s even less around you.”

  My heart was breaking in my chest. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “I was thinking…” she begins, eyes boring into the side of my face. “School isn’t working out. I’m not getting out of it what I thought it was going to give me and I was thinking about coming back home. We could get an apartment together. You could move out of that rat nest and start living with me again.”

  Trying to drive and stare at her in shock at the same time is not a good idea. I narrowly miss a truck and decrease my speed, getting into the slow lane. “Are you on something?”

  “I should be asking you the same question,” she shoots back. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re in your second year. You should give it another shot, as much as I’d love to have you back home.”

  “I can’t stand it, Rain. There. The truth’s out. Being away from you is hell, the people at school get on my nerves, and I’m not sure I want anything to do with an art degree anymore. I’m already a great artist. What will a degree do for me? It won’t make me better.”

  I’m confounded by her accusations and her revelation. “Becca, why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you’re always so quick to rub my failures in my face. ‘Look, see, you failed, stop taking risks.’ You don’t take any risks. So I’m not going to get an art degree. I can still own a tattoo shop. I have clout. I don’t need school to prove it.”

  My head is hurting. “I do not rub your failures in your face. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  “I don’t. That’s the way it is. You can’t stand the idea of risking a choice. You stay in your bubble because you’re terrified one wrong choice is going to make you end up like Mom and Dad. We’re not them, Rain. They are two separate people who had their own issues.”

  “We are them!” I snap. “I’m Mom and you’re Dad. You do things that make you happy, without caring those things are bad for you. I let you do those things because I don’t have the balls to say no. Like letting you go to school. I knew you’d change your mind!” I can’t help it. I’m rubbing it in. “Why didn’t you listen to me? You’re going to stop now?”

  “We are not them.” She sounds tired. “I am my own person. You are your own person. You need to stop living in fear of them. The things they did don’t have any bearing on our reality. You are a beautiful young woman and need to start acting like it. Go out, have fun, and make bad choices. Except Kent. There are bad choices and then there are choices that are bad. He’s bad.”

  “He’s incredible,” I mumble defiantly.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” I glance at her and fearfully meet her pissed off, blazing hazel eyes. “Nothing, Becca.”

  “You’re moving out of there as soon as I find an apartment. How much do you have saved up?”

  My stomach sinks. “I’m not moving.” My voice is small. I feel small.

  She takes a deep, laborious breath to calm herself down. “So who won the fight?”

  I’m thankful for the subject change. “Me.”

  She tries not to, but her small laugh escapes her anger. “Right on. That’s my sister.” She raises her hand and I give her a hard high five. “How did Kent feel about you fighting over him?”

  “I wasn’t fighting over him. I was defending myself. And he wasn’t happy. He was pissed off.”

  “Yeah, right. Men like him love to watch us ruin ourselves over them. Was it worth it? Was a black eye worth Kent Nicholson?”

  Hearing his name answered her question. I look her right in the eye as I pull into the restaurant. “Yes.”

  She closes hers in disappointment. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  I swallow hard and look away.

  “Rain!” she explodes. “Please tell me you didn’t give your virginity to Kent Nicholson.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh, Rain.”

  “Stop it!” I snap. “Just stop it, Becca. Everything’s fine.”

  She reaches over and takes my hand. “Then why are you about to cry?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, that’s why. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.” The revelation is like a punch to my gut. “But I feel like I can’t have him. Deep down I’m terrified Kent doesn’t want me back.”

  Becca’s face softens. “He’d be a complete imbecilic fool not to want you. I’m sure there’s another issue.”

  “There is,” I reveal bitt
erly. “He’s still in love with his ex.”

  She hisses under her breath. “No?”

  I nod vigorously. “He’s been stuck on her for over a year. And I mean stuck, like superglue stuck. Like nothing I do will make him forget her stuck. He even said it. Not even you, Rain.” I mimic his voice poorly, and the idea of it is the final shove into hysteria.

  “Look what he’s doing to you. You do you realize you’re crying when you’re talking about him, right? You should be smiling.”

  “He does make me smile.”

  “When does he make you smile? Seriously. Tell me.”

  I look down at my hands. “He’s too busy turning me on to make me smile. But he still does it. He makes me feel sexy and wanted, like maybe I’m not trapped in my life.” I blubber openly. “But mostly he makes me feel alive.”

  Her mouth is hanging open. “You’re going crazy over this guy. Look at you. This isn’t right. This is Mom and Dad,” she adds.

  I am nothing but tears and snot. She holds my hand as I cover my face with the other. “What do I do?”

  “You leave him.”

  “I can’t. We’re trying. And I don’t want to.” I feel like I’ve admitted something bad. “I don’t want to leave him alone. I want him.”

  “What do you mean you’re trying?”

  “He’s trying to be better. No more other women, no more punishing them. He’s trying for me. So am I. But I’m really not trying. I can’t trust him at all.”

  “You don’t trust anyone. It isn’t just him.”

  “I know. That’s what I’m supposed to fix. Every time I try there’s another woman, another truth, another horrible side of him. And it isn’t like I didn’t know. I knew exactly what I was doing when I fell for him.”

  “Is he really trying? I don’t believe it. He’s so filthy.” She sounds disgusted. “How could he get you?”

  How could I get him?

  “I need a drink,” I admit. I pull my visor down, cringing at myself. “Did you bring any makeup with you?”

  She opens her purse and takes out a makeup bag. I dry my face and slather it with foundation, hiding my tear stains and bruises.

  “Well, how was it?”

  “What?” I ask, pausing to glance at her.

  “Sex.”

  “Oh.” I bite my lip before smearing her balm over the cut. “It hurt, but he was so gentle and sweet.”

  “Gentle? Sure.” I glare at her. “Did you come?”

  My cheeks give the pink blush I applied competition. “Twice.”

  “Twice?” She laughs and pats my thigh. “At least he’s good in bed.”

  “Good?” I scoff. “He’s amazing.”

  “He’s had enough practice.”

  Her comment pisses me off. I shove her makeup back in the bag and hand it to her. “Let’s go, Rebecca.”

  The restaurant isn’t busy and we’re seated immediately near the window with a clear shot of the busy street. The sun shines right onto our booth. It’s like looking into a mirror except for our hair. Her green and brown eyes look almost gold in the sun. Becca’s always been stunning.

  When the waiter arrives he gives her a close look and a smile. “Anything to drink, ladies?”

  “A double whiskey,” I blurt out. “And a beer, please.”

  Becca gapes at me. “Um, I’ll have a Bud Light Lime.” When the waiter leaves she frowns. “Since when do you drink whiskey?”

  “Since now.” I rip open my silverware and line it from tallest to smallest. It’s easier than looking at her. “I have to work tonight.”

  “I’ll find something to do. Where will I be sleeping?”

  “In my room.”

  “With you?” she guesses.

  I don’t know what to say. “Yes…” I’m not sure if Kent is still willing to sleep with me in his bed. It was clear Becca doesn’t want us together. Already Kent is slipping away. “Could you please be nice to him?”

  “No.” Her eyes are blazing. “When I get done he’ll be running with his tail tucked between his legs.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t you don’t me. You should see yourself. He’s dragging you down.”

  I’m thankful when the waiter arrives with our drinks. I grab my whiskey and take a long sip, letting the fire chase away the uncertainty inside of me.

  “You should be with a man who builds you up. Someone who makes you laugh, smile, and who doesn’t make you cry.”

  “You date guys who upset you all the time.”

  She smiles sadly. “Exactly. I know what you’re feeling.”

  “No you don’t. Because if you did you’d know how much I want him and even if we do part ways in a month I’ll probably spend the rest of my life thinking about him. I want him. I want you to respect that.”

  “Do you hear yourself? If you part ways in a month? Why is it up to him whether you get what you want?”

  She has a point. I take a deeper swallow.

  “What if? What if in a month you find out he’s only using you for sex, or he doesn’t want you, or some other inane reason he comes up with? You gave him a lot. What has he given you?”

  I’m the first girl he’s wanted since Willow. That’s something. “These aren’t thoughts I haven’t had before.”

  “Well?” she presses.

  “He’s given me things I never even knew I was missing. He makes me feel like everything I’m doing right now matters. Nothing I ever do matters. Even at the end of this month I’ll have done more with him than with any other guy. When’s the last time I did anything that mattered?”

  She doesn’t have an answer. She sips her beer and stares down at her menu.

  Becca: one million.

  Raina: one.

  That single victory feels like all of hers. “When’s the last time I took a chance on anything?”

  Nothing.

  “When’s the last time I wanted something and went for it?”

  Silence from her end.

  I relish in my victory. “Be nice to him. Give him a try. He’s not who you think he is.”

  “We’ll see,” she mutters.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” I suggest. “Like our other roommate.”

  “Yeah, about him. What’s he like?”

  “James is great.” I smile warmly. “He’s deaf, and though I think he gets treated differently, I don’t really understand why. He’s sweet, gentle, and cute. You’ll like him. I guess he and Kent have been friends for a long time.”

  “Cute?” Her eyes light up. “Is he like Kent?”

  “No.” I laugh at her sigh of relief. “He’s nothing like him.”

  “Things are looking up.” She smiles and takes a sip of beer as our waiter comes to take out order. When he’s gone she stares at his backside. “Hot, right, sis?”

  “Down, Becca. You’d rip him apart and swallow the pieces. You remember that one boyfriend you had. Garth? Didn’t he cry when you broke up with him?”

  “Pansy ass cried during sex too. Every time he had an orgasm I had to grab a box of tissues.”

  I laugh the only way Becca can make me laugh. Hard and deep. “I wonder what happened to him. I liked him. He was more the type of guy I want you to be with.”

  “A crier? I don’t want a crier. I want a screamer.” She winks. “You’re with a screamer, aren’t you, sis?”

  “I think I might be the screamer.”

  She tosses her head back and laughs, catching the attention of every male in the building. “That’s my girl. Scream your face off.”

  Thankfully for the rest of lunch our conversation revolves around teasing and the past. We talk only of things that don’t remind us of right now.

  “Give me your keys. You’re buzzed.”

  “No argument there,” I relent, recalling the second whiskey I had.

  I stand there, dancing to nothing in the parking lot. I smack her ass, skipping in a tight circle. I had too much to drink and I can’t remember what I was crying ab
out, so I guess it worked.

  She eyes me. “Dweeb.”

  In my car she turns the radio on. We sing along, getting the words wrong and making them up. I give her directions in the middle of botching the lyrics to a Pink song. When we get home she and I struggle to carry up her luggage. Twice we drop it and burst into a fit of giggles, tugging it all the way back up the stairs. When we get to the top Kent opens the door.

  My mouth dries up when I see him. He’s dressed in a pair of snug jeans and a gray button up shirt. His hair is styled and he smells so good my mouth is no longer dry anymore.

  “You need help?” he inquires, his smile deeply amused. “It sounds like you’re dragging a body up the stairs.”

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi, Rain.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. Becca makes a sound in the back of her throat. His eyes flash to her. He takes her in, her tattoos, her attitude, and then he braves the beautiful beast. He holds his hand out to her. “You must be the famous Becca. Did you bring your gun with you?”

  I can tell she tries not to, but she laughs anyway. “Yeah, it’s in my purse.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

  I continue not to breathe as they interact.

  When he looks for her purse she laughs harder. He grins handsomely at her and raises his eyebrows. “Just checking.”

  “Kent,” she greets, dropping his hand. “We’ve met before. I’ve seen you in action so don’t get cute with me.”

  His smile falls. “If you saw me in action then that means you were there for the preshow. So don’t get cute with me either.”

  My jaw drops. I close my eyes so I can’t witness Becca ripping him apart.

  “You listen to me, you prick. You’re lucky I’m even letting you kiss my sister on the cheek. If it were up to me I’d take her and leave here forever.”

  “Good thing it’s up to her, then.”

  Uh oh.

  I wait a moment and when I open my eyes Becca is in Kent’s face. For what it’s worth Kent doesn’t back down. Most men would have.

  She stabs him in the chest with her finger. “You’re going to leave her alone.”

 

‹ Prev