Those Boys Are Trouble
Page 25
I shove my phone into my clutch and take a look at myself in the dresser mirror. I have to back up and stand on my tiptoes to see my outfit fully. I like it. I think I look pretty in this yellow and white, striped cotton sundress, but still laid-back. The dress flows out from my hips in an A-line shape, but hugs the little dip in my waist. If only my boobs were bigger. I scrunch my nose wondering if I should grab my padded bra. My lips purse as I decide no, I don’t need that. He knows they’re little. It’s too late to fool him now.
I’m guessing he just wants me to run in and grab the book, which is fine. I want to look good though. And I’m not going to be clingy or anything like that. I’m going to play it cool. He doesn’t want strings, and I get that. I don’t need strings or a commitment. It’s not like I have my shit together anyway. But I don’t like the idea of it being just a fling.
I’m sure that’s what I was thinking last night, trying to hook up with him. I bet I took an extra shot or two so I’d have the courage to go through with it this time. It’s not like I’ve been saving myself. I just haven’t gotten around to it.
Each step down the stairs makes the soreness between my legs obvious. I can’t hide from what I did. Part of me is feeling ashamed. Like I should have saved myself for someone who would’ve loved me. But I keep shoving that feeling down. My father never loved my mother. Most of my friends growing up were the products of divorced parents. Love is something that comes and goes, I suppose. I don’t know if I’ll ever even fall in love. I don’t know if I have it in me.
But a quick fuck with no strings attached was something I thought I could handle. I always chickened out though. I’m not sure if I was more afraid that I’d fall for the guy and get hurt, or that I would be sorely disappointed afterward. I wince at the bottom step and try to bend down to relieve some of the ache between my thighs. So far, so good on both fronts, although the possibility of falling for Vince is high on my list. A sexy man who knows how to fuck, with his own house and an adorable puppy? Yes, please! But there’s always a catch. So I’m going to hold back. I’m not going to put my heart out there to be stomped. And everything is going to be just fine.
I look straight ahead and see my mother passed out on the couch. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself. It will all be fine. Everything will be fine. I walk over to her and brush the hair out of her face. One of her arms is hanging off of the side of the sofa and she’s drooling on a pillow. She doesn’t even have any pants on. Just a saggy old tank top and her underwear.
I bet if I looked in the kitchen, I’d find the bottle. I lean down closer and smell gin on her breath. Tears prick at my eyes. How can she keep doing this to herself? And to me, too? I spent all afternoon searching for a job while she got drunk. Deep down I know I can’t stand for this. I need to do something. I just don’t know what. I don’t know how to say no to her without hurting her. And more than anything else, I don’t want to hurt her. I put a hand on my heart and try to relieve the ache. My throat dries up, and I will the emotions away.
I’ll go to AA with her. I will help her like a daughter should.
I take a step away and reach down for my keys, and I hear her mumble my name.
“It’s your fault he hates me.” I barely make out the words she speaks in her sleep.
I know what she’s talking about. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it either. I was the mistake that ruined my mother’s chances at a real life. At least that’s what she says when she’s drunk. Angry drunk perfectly describes my Mom. But I’m going to help her.
I’m extremely quiet on my way out. I haven't lived here long enough to know where all the creaks in the floorboards are just yet. I wish I knew though, so I could make sure to avoid them as I leave. I don’t want to wake her up. Not when she’s thinking those thoughts. I don’t want to get into another fight with her. Not over that. I don’t even breathe until I’ve shut the door.
I twist the handle as I shut the door to avoid the loud click it would make otherwise, and then lock it. When I turn around, I lean back against the door for a moment. I take a deep breath, and my eyes catch sight of a plain, white car. It looks old and I’ve never seen it before. It’s really out of place parked on the opposite side of the street. I see two women sitting in the front seats, each on their phones and any anxiety I had about the car is washed away.
I try to remember what I’m supposed to be doing. What I was so scared to hope for.
Vince.
I shake my head and feel stupid for even thinking about him. He’s just giving me the book back. It was just a fling. I get in my car and look at my makeup. This is all so pointless and stupid. Just like this dress.
He’s just going to give me the book, and then I’ll leave. I’ll probably never even hear from him again. That would be best anyway.
Vince
“How much is gone?” Dom asks as soon as I walk in the dining room. Becca’s in the backyard picking basil leaves or some shit. And she’s getting big. She looks like she’s going to pop any day now even though they’ve got a few months left before their little one is supposed to be here. Apparently I’m an asshole for saying that. Next time I’ll keep my mouth shut or say she’s glowing or some shit like that. The kids are with Ma and Anthony. So it’s just Tommy, Pops, Dom, and Becca for now, and everyone else will show up later. No one ever misses Ma’s Sunday dinners.
“We’re off by about half a mil on this shipment.” I answer him and Dom’s eyes go wide, then the anger settles in.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He’s pissed. He’s “lying low” with his fancy professor job, but he’s still in charge of the money. I knew he wouldn’t want to hear this shit.
“It’s a setup for sure.” I say.
“The cartel?” he asks.
“No. Javier had no clue. Said everything is monitored and would check it out. Right now I'm just waiting to hear back, but my money is on someone in packing. Someone with connections here who wants the territory.”
“Who’s trying to fuck with us? You think it’s Shadows MC or the Cúram crew?” Dom’s stayed in the loop more than I thought he would’ve. Shadows Motorcycle Club has been itching for territory, but I don’t see them pulling the trigger. We’d easily take them out. Cúram family is Irish and on their own turf. We aren’t friendly, but they’re not stupid. No one that I can think of has been wanting to fuck with us.
“We’ll find out once I hear back from Javier with a name.”
“What about the money?” he asks.
I frown and I suppress a groan. “They’re waiting to make sure it’s on their end, and then we’ll talk.”
“Best for business relations I guess.” Irritation colors his voice, but he’s right. I fucking hate waiting though.
Thinking about waiting reminds me that my sweetheart should be here soon. I have a bit of anxiety over her coming here. I’m worried something’s gonna set someone off. I just want her in and out. And then on my dick again. I can’t help that last part. My stomach knots thinking about how I’m gonna have to end it. I don’t fucking want to though.
Tommy comes into the room and he must read my mind, or see me shifting my hardening dick in my pants. He busts out a laugh from his gut. “Your girl staying for dinner, Vince?”
“Girl? Since when did you settle down?” The look of approval in Dom’s eyes makes me want to smack it away. I didn’t settle, and I’m not settling down.
“I didn’t, and I’m not. A broad’s coming by to pick something up so Pops can see her and then she’s gone.”
“Thought you wanted to see her again?” Tommy asks.
“I do, but that’d be stupid.”
“What’s stupid is not taking something you want.” Dom starts and I’m quick to cut him off.
“It’s done, Dom. I can’t have her, and I won’t. I’m ending it as soon as she gets here.” The absolution is firm in my voice, but I don’t want it.
“What’s wrong with her?” Dom asks, and it ma
kes me angry. Not a damn thing is wrong with her.
“She’s a witness, that’s what’s wrong,” Pops says as he comes into the room, and Dom seems confused for a moment, but then pissed. Calling her a witness makes my blood run cold.
“A witness to what?” Dom asks.
“Doesn’t fucking matter, because she doesn’t remember shit,” I say, putting an end to the conversation. “She’s not a witness.” My words come out hard and everyone looks at me like they’d like to disagree, but they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut. “Pops just wants to be sure. And I’m gonna show him she’s good, and then she walks. No one fucking touches her.”
Dom’s eyebrows raise and I stare at him until he concedes. “Whatever you say, Vince.” He throws up his hands in surrender. “I don’t have a problem with it if you say it’s all good.” Pops nods his head and slaps a hand on my shoulder.
Before he can speak the doorbell rings, and we all look at the door. My heart clenches, knowing I’m gonna be saying goodbye to my sweetheart. It’s going to break her heart, but she shouldn’t be with a man like me anyway.
She’s too good for me. I’m sure she knows that.
I walk quickly to the door, knowing the book is on the dining room table. I’ll walk her in so everyone can see her, and walk her ass right back out.
Nice and easy.
My chest tightens as I twist the doorknob. I’m not sure if it’s because I think something’s going to go wrong, or because I won’t be able to let go.
Vince
She looks beautiful in her little dress. I like it more than those tiny-ass shorts she was wearing when we first met. She looks like the sweetheart she is. That, and no one can see how perky her ass is in this dress. She should wear dresses like this all the time. I give her a tight smile even though seeing her puts me a bit at ease. My nerves are fucking killing me. I swear to God everyone can hear how fast my heart’s beating.
I need to get my shit together. Everything’s gonna be fine. And then I’ll end this, and she’ll be safe. My heart drops in my chest knowing she won’t be mine. She’ll never be mine. But at least I know she’ll be safe.
“Come on in, sweetheart,” I greet her, and open the door good and wide for her to enter. My parents' house is a nice home, but it’s old. Family pictures line the wall of the foyer. All of the picture frames are different, and there are a couple dozen of them in total. Ma doesn’t like taking any photos down, just adding new ones over time. The newest are the pictures of my nephew, Ethan. Dom’s little boy looks just like him.
She smiles, but it seems just as forced as mine. My heart sputters in my chest. She didn’t remember, did she? Her eyes linger on the pictures, and her lips soften and pull into a genuine smile. Good. I want her to be happy. I want them to see how happy and at ease she is. My eyes focus past her and land on Tommy. If she remembered what she witnessed yesterday, there’s no way she’d be alright in front of him.
She turns, and the dress flutters out at the motion. Her ponytail sways back and forth in time with her hips. My eyes focus on those hips. I want to flip up her dress and fuck the shit out of her. The need to claim her is riding me hard, but I need to shake that shit off.
“Hi there, beautiful,” Tommy says to her as she walks into the dining room, making a beeline for the book that’s on the edge of the table. I don’t like his tone. I know he’s just testing her, but I don’t like him calling her beautiful.
“Hi there,” she answers in a peppy voice and grabs her book, hugging it to her chest. The pressure makes her breasts bulge slightly from the top of the sweetheart neckline of her dress and gives them a fuller look. She’s not doing it on purpose, but I wanna spank her ass for it all the same.
Fuck this broad has gotten under my skin. All I can think about is nailing her, but now is not the time or place.
“How are you doing? Elle, is it?” Pops asks. He's across the room still, pouring himself a scotch from the old bar in the corner of the room.
“I’ll take one of those, Pops,” I say over Elle as she starts to answer him, and feel like an ass for interrupting. My nerves are getting to me and this isn’t good. The familia’s here. Pops is here. I need to get my shit together and keep it cool. I can’t fuck this up. “Sorry, sweetheart.” I gentle my hand on the small of her back and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Elle, that’s my Pops, my cousin Tommy, and my brother Dom.” They nod at her in turn as I introduce them one by one. “Dom's wife Becca is out back.”
“Hi everyone.” She looks timid and shy, and rocks a little on her heels before turning to me. “Thank you for this.” Her big blue eyes meet mine and I can’t speak. I don’t want to walk her to the door and say goodbye.
“No problem,” I finally answer, and then clear my throat. I turn, ready to walk her out, but Pops' voice bellows from across the room.
“So, how’d you two meet?” he asks.
I meet his gaze as Elle answers. I wish he wouldn’t do this shit. “At a bar last night, I left my book,” a blush rises in her cheeks, “in Vince’s car.” Her shoulders hunch inward and she fidgets with one of her heels on the ground. She’s a fucking horrible liar. “He was nice enough to take me home. I drank a little too much.” She can’t even look Pops in the eyes. A chuckle rises up my chest and I can’t stop it. She looks at me with wide, pleading eyes. She’s fucking adorable.
“No problem, sweetheart.” I turn my body again to lead her out. I know it’s rude to be ending it so short, and I can see the hurt in her eyes, but it’s for the best.
“You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Dom asks, and I want to beat the shit out of him for it.
“No--”
“No--” We both answer at the same time, and then exchange glances. Why the fuck doesn’t she want to stay for dinner? My eyes narrow on hers searching for an answer. I mean it’s not like I invited her, but still. She’s fucking quick to get out of here. She breaks my gaze and turns to walk towards the door.
She smiles over her shoulder, still holding the book like it’s her lifeline. “Nice to meet you all.”
“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart.” I open the door for her and place my hand on her back.
“That’s alright,” she replies, and her tone is sad. “It’s fine.”
The way she says it’s fine makes it obvious that she’s not fine. “I want to walk you out.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t like the look on her face. I don’t like seeing her so unhappy. But should I walk her out? No, no I shouldn’t. I should let this end already. End it quickly and cleanly. Ignore her texts. That’s what I should do.
Her eyes fall to the floor as she gives me a weak smile and relents. “Okay.” My heart fucking hurts. I guess she can sense what’s going on. Fuck, this sucks.
I open the door all the way and take a step to push the screen door open for her, but a loud bang from the dining room makes both of us jump. Tommy cusses with both of his hands raised, broken glass and bourbon at his feet. Clumsy fuck dropped his glass. I raise my eyes and look around the room as Tommy swears and wipes his hands down the front of his shirt. They focus right on Pops, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re on Elle.
Her eyes are wide, and her chest rises and falls dramatically. At first I think the loud bang and Tommy cussing scared her. But this is more. This is bad, really fucking bad. I remember right before she woke up in the office. I grind my teeth in anger. He dropped something then too. The loud bang, him cussing. Fuck! Could it really be triggered that easily? She was almost gone. Almost in the clear. Her feet back up with small steps, pushing the door into the wall. Her knuckles turn white, clutching that damn book.
She swallows thickly and then looks at me. Her eyes dart from me, to each of the men in the room who are all staring at her now. She reaches for the knob to the screen door, and lets out a small scream as I pull it shut and pull her into my chest. I back her ass into my crotch and push the front door closed behind us.
Dom looks at Pops
, who says something I can't quite make out. Guessing by how fast Dom takes off through the kitchen to the backyard, it must be about getting to Becca. Sure enough, I hear the sliding doors open and slam closed.
No one moves, and the only sound is Elle crying softly. She shakes her head in my arms and I find myself shushing her. She’s not fighting me. But she knows something. She remembered something.
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong,” I say calmly into her ear. She’s facing the dining room. Everyone can see her and I hate that, so I turn her in my arms, but she tries to back away from me. She wants to get out of my arms and I don’t like that. She’s not going anywhere.
“Nothing. Please just let me go.”
I give her a small smile and brush the tears off her cheeks. Her skin is so soft. So perfect. “I can’t do that now, can I? Something’s wrong, and you need to tell me what.”
Her breath comes in chaotically as she frantically looks around the room like she’s trapped. Which she is.
“Sweetheart, you need to calm down.” I try to pet her back to calm her ass down, although I’m not sure what the point of that is.
Tommy comes up to my right side with those fucking pills in his hands, ready to shove them down her throat again. “No! Get that shit out of her face.”
“You sure, Vince?” Fuck. It didn’t work. I’m not doing it again. It didn’t fucking work.
I look around the room and feel like a failure. I failed my Pops, Tommy, and especially Elle. It’s all my fucking fault.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers.
“What do you remember, babe?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She’s quick to answer while shaking her head.
“Don’t lie to me.” My words are cold, and my grip on her tightens. “I’ve got all night sweetheart, but I’d rather you just tell me now.” It hits me in that moment, as I look past her to my Pops, she’s dead. Doesn’t matter what all she remembers. She’s dead.