Chapter 20
Darcie
“Real fucking smart, Darcie!” Jake screams as he flies through the back door. He throws his soda can in the sink and begins to pace the kitchen. He definitely has Reggie’s characteristics when he’s angry and it makes me giggle.
“You think this is funny? Do you know who you’re getting involved with? He’s a fucking tool, Darcie.” His face is red from anger.
“Calm down. I was bored and went for a drive. That’s it.” I walk to the fridge and pull out a can of ginger ale and begin chugging it down.
“How do you think this looks, Darcie? This douche comes into town, challenging Jeremy to a race, running his goddamn mouth about our family, and you’re off, taking a drive with him.” He raises his finger to put quotes around the word drive.
I roll my eyes at him, not in the mood to deal with his drama, and start walking out of the kitchen. Jake grabs my arm squeezing it tight as he spins me around.
“Let go of me!” I scream as I ball my fist, ready to swing.
“Are you becoming like the rest of the girls around here? Whoring yourself out to the first douche that comes into town?”
Before I know how it happens, I reach back and punch him in the face. Jake’s eyes light with rage as he grabs both my hands gripping tighter than before. “You’re lucky you’re my sister, otherwise, I’d lay you flat.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” I seethe through gritted teeth.
Jake lets go of my arms and pushes me across the living room floor. I put my hands out in front of me, bracing my fall. Then, turn and look at the anger in his eyes. He’s ready to go and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him disrespect me. Popping up to my feet, I run full steam toward him. However, before I reach Jake, I’m being restrained by Reggie. His long, muscular arms tighten around my midsection as he slams me back against his chest. I’m struggling to get out of his grasp, wildly thrashing my body back and forth, but it’s no use, he’s too strong.
I stop resisting him and begin to fall limp in his arms. Always my protector, he’s come to save me from another huge mistake. Jake is one of my best friends, my brother, and I don’t want to fight him, but why would he call me a whore? He knows me. He knows I can’t deal with other guys touching me. The insult hurts.
Still restraining me, Reggie asks, “What’s going on between you two?”
“Darcie’s a traitor,” Jake snaps.
“Shut up, Jake! I didn’t do anything wrong! Why are you doing this?” My wall is crumbling around me. The weakness is showing and I want to stop it.
Reggie lets go of his hold and looks at me, knowing at any moment, I’m going to break. I hate how he sees right through me. I blink back the tears. I won’t let them fall. He turns to Jake and asks, “What are you talking about? Why is she a traitor?”
“Do you know who she just came home with? Grady fucking McGuire.”
“That guy looking to race Jeremy? She was with him?”
“Yeah. That asshole has been running his mouth all over town about Jeremy and she’s out running around with that self-absorbed dick.”
Reggie’s face turns angry and he bends down to my face. “Did he touch you? I’ll kill that puke if he laid a finger on you.”
Really? He has the nerve to get possessive of me after all the shit he put me through this past weekend. The storage room, Natasha, the complete ignorance of his feelings, of my feelings, I’ll give him something to be jealous about.
“No, he didn’t touch me and why would it matter if he did?” His face pales as he looks over at Jake, afraid I will spill our little secret. “I’ve never done anything in the last three years that would justify him calling me a whore.” I look over at Jake. “That hurt.”
Jake’s face falls, realizing he was out of line. He pulls me into his chest, giving me a solid hug. “I’m sorry, Darcie. I freaked out. There’s something about that dude I don’t trust.”
“All you need to do is trust me. I’m not going to do anything stupid, okay? I love you guys. I would never do anything that would show any different.”
Jake kisses me on the top of my head and retreats to the basement. Reggie is looking at me with his intense gaze. “This guy you were with, do you like him?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Just makes sure he’s good to you, Darcie.” He turns on his heels and goes to his room, slamming the door.
Standing alone in the kitchen, Reggie’s left me aching. From his touch and the passion I never knew I had awakened in my core, yearning with desire to be near him. However, the pain in my heart is what dissolves anything my body starts to feel. Defeated, I make my way to my room, shutting out anything that would make me weak.
Reggie
Jealously is still ripping at my heart when I return to my room. I’ve told myself hundreds of times, us being together will never happen, but the irrational part of me is wishing I had acted on her advances. Furious emotions course through me when I think of him kissing her lips and caressing her skin. I’m not sure if I can handle him putting his hands on her. Even if she’s willing like she was with me, the thought of him laying a finger on Darcie pisses me off.
I need to let go of the pent up energy building in my body before I have to go back to the bar for the night. I pull on a pair of shorts, tie back my hair, and sink my hands into the fighting gloves. It always feels good to slide my fingers into my old MMA gloves. It’s been three years since my last fight, since the night Darcie moved in. I immediately stopped fighting to care for her. She needed so much attention then, I couldn’t be away from her for a long period of time. I workout when I can, to keep my body in fighting condition, but it’s probably something I will never do again.
Walking to the garage, I work the heavy bag while Linkin Park is blaring through the speakers. I hit the bag hard, channeling all my rage, frustration and pain into the inanimate object while sweat is dripping down my face. Punching, kicking, and slamming my knees into its side, I beat the bag until my arms weaken, my legs waver and my breathing becomes labored.
Slowly my mind clears. The frustrations that have been weighing on my shoulders like a thousand pound bolder are finally breaking away. Downing a glass of water, I make my way back to my bedroom. I stop. Darcie’s door is partly open and she’s sitting in her chair with a blank look on her face. She’s just staring out the window, deep in thought. I wonder what she’s thinking. Could she possibly be thinking about me?
I take the time to study her beautiful features. Her knees are tucked against her chest being cradled by her arms as her chin rests on top. The long, flowing strands of ebony hair blanket across her back. God, she is so beautiful. I hope one day, Darcie will forgive me for the pain I’ve caused recently. Hopefully, she’ll see I’ve done all of this for her.
Chapter 21
Darcie
The remainder of the week is spent with Grady. Not because he’s great company—actually he’s a little trying to be around—it’s because I need space away from my house. With the boys gone at school and my tension filled relationship with Reggie’s, I feel I’m suffocating between the walls of my bedroom. I’m only hanging out with him out of sheer desperation and to give Reggie a taste of his own medicine. Juvenile? Yes, but he started it.
Grady incessantly talks about himself, which is grating on my nerves by the minute. All he talks about are the races he’s won, his stint in jail for assaulting a junkie who tried to rip him off, and the women he’s bagged. Really? I highly doubt we are at a level of friendship where it’s acceptable to disclose his nasty bedroom adventures. Hell, Jake and I aren’t even at that level of friendship and I actually like him. Seriously, I could care less how many skanks he’s screwed in his twenty-three-years of life, but he keeps bringing it up. Most of the time, I ignore what’s coming out of his mouth and lose myself in the scenery out the window.
Grady takes me back to Butler, but this time without the visit to the trailer park. It’s Friday night and the town has c
ome to life overnight. Unlike Wednesday, people are out walking down the streets, laughing and meeting up with others they know. It almost looks peaceful here for a rundown, shithole of a city. We’re definitely not in Sulfur Heights.
We pull up to the car wash parking lot located on the main road that runs through the city. Several cars of all makes and models line up facing the street with small crowds gathered around the cars and their owners. According to Grady, it’s the hub of Butler’s Friday night entertainment. Grady pulls up next to a group of guys hovering around a 2013 Chevy Camaro SS and Reggie instantly comes from the depths of my mind. He loves Camaros, especially the one he’s driving now.
I let out a deep breath and watch Grady come to my door, motioning me to get out. Reluctantly, I shrug out of the leather seat and walk over with Grady. They seem friendly with one another as I approach and I feel a little more at ease, but still guarded.
“Hey guys this is my…” Grady trails off, trying to think of the right word to describe our relationship. “Girl?”
I roll my eyes at him and return the handshakes to the other guys. “Don’t strain yourself, Grady. I’m certainly not.”
I recognize two of the guys from the race Saturday night, which I found out later that Grady won.
“I remember you,” one of the guys utters. “You were drunk as shit at the race. I saw you hanging around those Evans guys and cursing out that girl. It was hilarious.” The guy releases out a loud laugh and I shake my head in disgust. Great first impression, Darcie.
“So how do you know Jeremy?” the second guy asks.
I eye him suspiciously. Why would he care about Jeremy and my relationship with him? Before I have a chance to speak up Grady interjects, “She’s his adopted sister or something like that.”
Grady shares looks with the two guys. The look on his face is cold and calculated as a smirk stretches across his face. A feeling of uneasiness travels through my body and warning alarms are going through my head.
I turn to Grady, ready to interrogate him, but he speaks up before I get the chance. “So, Darcie, the last race of the year is tomorrow night. Since Jeremy hasn’t accepted my challenge, I will be racing Doug Mitchell. It should be an easy win. Do you want to be my partner in crime? Ride with me in the car?”
He glides the back of his hand down my arm and shivers prick my skin, but not in a good way. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
“Come on, baby girl. I’ve seen your face when I drive. The speed turns you on.”He licks his lips and a light glitter appears in his gray eyes. Momentarily, I forget myself as a spark of desire flushes my cheeks.
Grady’s right, I love the feeling of ripping down the straightaway going one hundred MPH, but I’m not so certain I would love it with Grady. He’s up to something. I can sense it.
“I’ll let you know.”
***
Old Miller’s Road is packed for the last race of the year. Everyone from Southside Sulfur Heights and Butler is gathering, waiting for the events to start. The usual keg stations are set up in the back of trucks, and Ronnie is in his typical spot taking bets as the lines for both weave in and out of the parked cars.
Presley is staying with us again this weekend, but I’ve hardly seen her. Drake’s been monopolizing her time, only socializing when they are in the kitchen eating. They spent all last night shut in his room. Music quietly pouring out of his door and every so often I would hear Presley release a giggle. I’m a little jealous of their instant connection. I have that…well had that with Reggie, but we never got to the part of being happy in each other’s arms. I’ve known for a while that I desperately wanted him, but only recently allowed myself to feel it. It feels so wonderful and so agonizing all at the same time. The night we kissed seems like ages ago because we’ve barely talked since, but it’s that wonderful feeling I carry in my heart.
Grady practically begged me to be a part of his grand entrance when he showed up to the race. Not wanting to let Jeremy down again, I declined his offer, but told him I would meet him up there. Like last week, Grady revs his motor and slowly eases his way down Old Miller’s Road. He’s sporting his look at me I’m amazing smile as he lines up with Doug Mitchell’s 1985 Ford Mustang.
Everyone pretty much knows the outcome of the race is in Grady’s favor. He did have a pretty amazing win against Tommy Sykes’s GTO and other than Jeremy, Tommy can whoop anyone who challenges him.
I’m standing around with the boys, catching up on the events I missed at school with Presley and waiting for things to get started when my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. In the distance a very familiar car is making its way down the road. The silver 1980 Chevy Camaro slowly drives to where we’re parked and the driver’s shoulder length, blonde hair confirms Reggie has come to watch the race. He pulls into the space next to Jeremy’s Challenger and turns his engine off. When he steps from the car, my body reacts from the sight of him. His hair is perfectly tousled and resting just past his shoulders. His dark jeans are riding low on his hips and his signature The Slab t-shirt fits perfectly to his rock hard body. Swagger from his hips is hypnotic as he strides over to Jeremy. The sparkle in his ocean blue eyes gleams as he looks over to his brother with pride. Big Mike exits the passenger seat, looking like the tough Harley man he is. Black jeans, leather vest, full bushy beard and a dew rag strung across his head. The bar must be dead if both Reggie and Big Mike are here, and I’m so glad it is.
Presley grabs a hold of my arm as I’m unconsciously rubbing the pad of my thumb over the scar on my wrist. “Darcie, you’re staring.”
“Umm…what? No… I’m not. Am I?”
She lets out a small giggle. “Your mouth is wide open.”
I look over at her and bite on my lower lip to suppress a laugh. He’s sexy as hell and it’s impossible not to gape at him. Especially now that I know what it feels like to have his flawless body pressed up against mine. Tingles start moving down through my stomach, reaching the tender feelings of my core. I let out the breath I was holding, trying to calm waves of pleasure crashing into me. I want to yank him into the trees and let him rub his hands all over my skin.
My good mood plummets as soon as I see a woman’s hand extend from the back seat. Reggie walks back to the driver’s door and leans forward, helping the mystery woman out of the car. I instantly recognize her long, tan legs and flowing, long, brown hair. Natasha. The last time I saw her she was strutting through our kitchen, feeling refreshed from her night with Reggie. Hatred for this woman causes my face to redden. I start pressing my thumb into my scar harder. Why is he doing this? Why would he shove his relationship with her in my face?
Natasha stands from the car, adjusting her tight dress. Men practically break their necks to look at her. She swings her head slightly, causing her long, curly, brown locks to sway. The short red dress she’s wearing is cut low in the front to accentuate the swell of her breasts and at the end of her mile long legs are four-inch, red, suede wedges. Really? Who wears a stripper dress to a drag race…in the middle of September…in the state of Michigan? A stupid tramp, that’s who.
I hate her. I don’t care if I don’t know anything about her. Actually, I don’t want to know anything about her because I loathe her!
My heart aches and my blood boils with anger. My emotions are pushing to the forefront of my eyes and I’m on the verge of either breaking down or breaking her face when Presley recognizes my distress. Moments later, my arm is being tugged backward and my feet follow, but my gaze doesn’t break from Reggie.
“Darcie? Look at me.” I slowly turn my head to look Presley in the eyes. “You need to calm down. Here.” She thrusts a glass full of beer in front of my face. I look into her eyes and see her genuine nature. Presley is the only one who knows my true feelings for Reggie and I’m so glad I told her. She knows at any moment I will snap. I take the red plastic cup from Presley and begin to chug. Gulp after gulp, I swallow the ale, trying to make myself numb from the building feelings.
>
“Thanks. Can I have another?” I ask, hoping she has another full glass in her hands. I take the other cup from her and proceed drinking down the contents. This one isn’t beer, it’s vodka mixed with a splash of cranberry. It burns, but I keep chugging.
I chance another peek at Reggie. His back is to me and he’s talking intently with Jeremy and Jake, but it’s his hand I can’t tear my gaze from. His fingers are still intertwined with Natasha’s, like they’re a couple. Is that what he’s doing? Announcing to everyone that they’re a couple. Who am I kidding? She is perfect for him. Tall, beautiful and impeccable. I look down at myself. I’m average height, wearing an old concert t-shirt, jeans and converse. My hair isn’t full and flowing, my skin isn’t flawless, and my breasts are nowhere near the size of hers.
Realization crashes down upon me, causing my heart to break a little more. I’ve got to let him go. It’s clear she’s what he wants; what he desires. Hopefully, I can fall out of love with him as easily as I fell in.
I throw the empty glass on the ground and motion my head to Presley mouthing I’m okay. We walk back to the guys and Reggie finally notices me. His eyes travel down the length of my body and back up before giving me a small smile. It makes my breath hitch, but my heart ache. I turn around and keep my attention away from the new happy couple. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Presley is trying her best to keep my attention on her as she tells a funny story about what her English teacher, Mrs. Lenox, did during class. Apparently, she was reading an excerpt from To Kill a Mockingbird when she bent down and picked up the bookmark she dropped on the floor. Drake assumed she ate a burrito at lunch because when she bent over, Mrs. Lenox let out a gigantic fart. One comparable to Jake’s after he eats his weight in chili. They both laugh in unison while recalling Mrs. Lenox’s gassy explosion and I can’t keep from smiling.
A familiar voice is in my ear, sending chills down my spine. “Hey, baby girl.” Grady is standing right behind me with his mouth next to my ear. I stiffen from his presence.
Scarred Love Page 11