Her hair was straight and fell around her shoulders. It was my favorite on her. The way the silky strands caught the light made me want to touch it.
Trent sat across from us, and she gave him a little wave. He grinned at her and saluted me with his beer.
Romeo and Rim finally made their way over, and he took up residence right beside me, pulling Rim into his lap. “Damn, it’s good to be home,” Rome yelled, and a beer appeared in front of him.
We clinked the glass together and chugged. Rimmel wrinkled her nose. Ivy leaned around me, and I slung an arm across her shoulders.
“Where’s your brother?” I asked.
She pointed on the dance floor. He was already out there and surrounded by women. He saw us and turned his smile up a notch.
Or ten.
“He’s got some game.” I admired that.
“He’s incorrigible,” Ivy said fondly and motioned for him to join us at the table. He disengaged himself from the ladies with some experience (clearly, he wasn’t new to the rodeo) and made his way over.
The seat beside Trent was open, and he pulled it out.
“Trent, this is my brother Drew.” Ivy made the introduction. “He drives a Mustang too.”
Drew took up residence in the chair and gave Trent an interested look. “A fellow gear head?”
Trent lifted his hands in surrender. “Only when I have some spare time. Which isn’t often.”
“Football?” Drew guessed.
Trent smiled. “That and a fraternity.”
“Sa-weet. You know enough about cars to hold a conversation, don’t you?” Drew asked.
I almost choked on my beer. I fucking could talk about cars all damn day. But since I didn’t drive a Mustang, I wasn’t considered worthy.
“Does a bull have balls?” Trent countered.
I laughed, but Ivy groaned.
Drew slapped him on the back. “I like this guy, Ives.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered darkly.
Drew looked at me, then Trent. “You and my sister?”
My eyes narrowed on Trent, waiting to see what he would say.
“Nah, man. It’s always been B for her.”
I relaxed. Ivy poked me in the ribs, and I kissed her bare shoulder. Drew and Trent dove head first into a conversation about Mustangs and car parts. Over my head, a tray of shot glasses full of blue liquid hit the table.
“Smurf Balls!” Ivy exclaimed.
Rimmel laughed.
“What is it with you two and these damn blue drinks?” I intoned. Beside me, Romeo groaned.
Ivy picked one up and tossed it down her throat. Rimmel wasn’t as fast to get hers down, but she was working on it.
Ivy stuck her tongue out, and it was already stained blue.
A current pop song started playing loud as hell, and Ivy got up and grabbed Rimmel’s hand. “Come on.”
Rimmel groaned, but she followed, and soon the pair was out on the dance floor, moving to the beat.
Rim was still a terrible dancer.
“How’s the team?” I asked Romeo.
“It’s good. Not the same without you.”
I nodded. I knew what he meant. Even halfway into the season, I still wasn’t used to playing on the field without him.
“How’s the arm? You getting some play time?” I knew he had yet to start a game, which was why I hadn’t been to one yet. Rimmel traveled to a couple of his first games, where he basically sat on the sidelines. I would have gone too, but with my own football practices, the scheduling had been tight.
But the first game he started and was on the field for more than a few plays, I was there. The Wolves be damned.
Romeo flexed his right hand and made a fist. “Arm’s good. Their therapists and trainers are top notch. I can’t complain.”
“Play time?” I pressed.
He shrugged. “Not as much as I’m used to.” He gave me a rueful smile. “I’m a small fish in a big pond over there.”
“People giving you problems?” I asked, my eyes narrowed.
“No, everyone’s cool. I just gotta prove myself. You know how it is.”
I did. I also knew that soon, Rome would be dominating the lead position of quarterback on the team.
“You’re getting lots of press.” His name was practically a mainstay in the papers and in the state. The title “Comeback Quarterback” was seriously sticking. Ron Gamble, owner of the Knights, was probably tickled shitless.
He flashed his teeth. “Press isn’t hurting.”
I chuckled. Rome was the golden boy of football in this state.
“How ‘bout you?” he asked. “How’s the Wolves doing this season?”
“Kicking ass and taking names,” I said. The guys around us all howled.
“How could we not be with The Incredible Hulk intimidating the shit out of all the other teams?” cracked the guy right next to Trent.
Rome lifted his eyebrow.
“Shit,” I muttered. That name was ridiculous.
“That you?” Rome asked.
Trent looked up from his in-depth bonding session with Drew and nodded. “He’s like a damn bouncer out there. All aggressive and shit.”
See, that’s the thing. All the other guys might have thought it was cool. They admired the way it helped the team.
Romeo knew better.
He knew my “Incredible Hulk” status was likely the product of shit going on inside me.
“We should talk,” he said so only I could hear.
“We should drink another beer!” I hollered. Everyone agreed.
After all our glasses were full, everyone went back to their own conversations. Romeo turned to me. “You talk to him? See him?”
“No. That ain’t what this is about.”
“Then what?”
I shook my head once. Not even Romeo knew the secret I carried around. I never told him about Ivy and Zach. I thought about it, but I couldn’t. Just thinking about it was hard enough. And I couldn’t do that to Ivy. I was loyal to Rome, but I was to Ivy too.
Plus… what if when I did, he said I did the wrong thing?
I didn’t think I could handle my best friend telling me how wrong I’d been.
“I decided to call him.” I hadn’t really meant to say that. I only wanted to turn the conversation away from him getting too close.
Hell, I hadn’t even realized I decided to talk to my father. I barely had time to think about it. But I guess the things Ivy said to me that night under the stars, about talking to him for myself, really resonated with me.
I probably made the decision that night, just hadn’t wanted to say it.
Romeo clapped me on the shoulder. “I think it’s good.”
“Yeah?” I asked. Up until this point, he’d kept his personal opinion out of it. As if he knew he’d influence me and didn’t want that.
“Hells yeah. Put it to bed, man. Once and for all.”
Now that I declared my intent, it felt right, and for the first time, I felt ready to face him.
I hoped to hell it wasn’t the beer and when I woke up tomorrow, I’d feel the same.
A couple ladies came up to the table, making eyes at Drew. It was a few of the girls he’d been dancing with earlier. “We need some company,” one of them said. She had long, almost-black hair.
“The ladies want what they want.” Drew sighed and stood. “Ladies, you know my bro Trent?”
“Of course.” They smiled, and he was pulled out onto the floor with them.
That used to be Rome and me. Before we fell in love. Funny, I didn’t miss those days at all.
Out on the dance floor, Ivy and Rimmel were laughing and having fun. It was good to see her smiling and just living in the moment. I watched a couple guys dancing nearby. I saw the way they watched her, and I knew they wanted to slide right up behind her for a dance.
So far, they’d kept their distance.
They’d remain where they were if they knew what was good for them. Thi
s far into the semester, everyone knew she was taken and they knew by whom.
Drew and Trent moved through the crowd and appeared beside them. Ivy hugged her brother fast, then went back to dancing.
“What’s his deal?” Romeo hitched his chin in Drew’s direction.
“Don’t worry. I threatened his life if he even looked at Rim.”
Romeo’s body stiffened. “He hit on Rimmel?”
“Hells no. I’d have kicked his ass out. But I sure as hell made sure he knew he better not.”
Romeo relaxed a little, but I noted the way he watched them all on the floor a little closer. “What’s he doing here?”
“Came to check me out. Came home from his summer internship to find his little sis moved in with some guy.”
“Her mother’s approval wasn’t enough for him?” Romeo took a chug of beer.
I made a rude sound. “Guess not. Made his panties twisted that her parents haven’t actually met me, only through FaceTime.”
Romeo laughed. “Dude. You FaceTimed her ‘rents?”
“Fuck you.” I grinned. “I had to, man. She asked me to.”
Romeo nodded solemnly, then busted out laughing.
“Anyway, he showed up, said he missed her. But when she left the room, he made it clear he was here to check us all out, make sure we’re good enough for his little sister.”
“What aren’t you saying, B?”
I turned my eyes on him. “What makes you think I’m not saying something?”
The look on his face was one of a guy who smelled the worst fart ever. Since it didn’t stink in here, I knew he was calling bullshit.
I drained the rest of my beer, basically stalling for time, trying to think up some smartass comment that would change the subject. Or hoping one of his many fans would come over here and take the heat off me.
A distraction.
Any kind of distraction would be good right now.
Except for the one I got.
“No!” a female shrieked. The sound was so loud and panicked it carried over the music and through the crowd.
I knew that sound.
I jerked upright and looked toward Ivy. Some guy had come up behind her, grabbed her, and had his arms locked around her waist.
“Don’t touch me!” she yelled.
I saw the panic in her face, the way her body locked up.
It’s happening again. Just like the shower.
I let out a string of curses and dropped my empty glass. The crowd around our table was massive, and I wasn’t about to make my way around. By the time I got to her, she’d be in a full-blown panic.
I jumped up on the tabletop, my feet knocking over some beers and baskets of peanuts. I didn’t pause. I kept going and jumped off the table and onto the floor on the other side.
By that time, Drew had yanked the dirty bastard off her but was handling the situation entirely wrong.
Hell.
He was handling it like any brother would, but not the way Ivy needed. It wasn’t about that guy, the fucker; it was about Ivy. Her body was having a flashback.
Drew had the guy by the shirt, and as I shoved people out of my way, he plowed his fist into the guy’s jaw, sending him flying backward.
Right into Ivy.
The two of them fell to the ground in a heap, Ivy on the bottom.
Pinned to the floor, beneath a complete stranger.
She started to scream.
Chapter Nineteen
Ivy
The hands came out of nowhere.
The body forced itself right up against mine. There was something dirty and unwanted about the way it felt.
One second, everything was fine. I was having fun and laughing.
And then it wasn’t.
In the span of two seconds, my heart rate tripled, a sick, dizzy feeling washed over me, and I felt sweat break out over my forehead.
“No!” The protest literally clawed out of my chest and burned my throat on its way out.
I have to get away from him.
I don’t want this.
“Don’t touch me!”
I felt the body ripped away. We spun with the force of it. I was still reeling, still trying to pull myself back from the anxiety that had completely taken over.
I blinked enough to clear my vision and see Drew ramming his fist into the face of the man who grabbed me.
I didn’t have time to think or move.
The stranger knocked into me, both of us crumpling to the floor.
The smell of booze hit my nostrils, and I gagged. The guy was so drunk he couldn’t even control his own body.
He was lying on top of me, his weight so heavy, his skin so sticky.
Oh my God. No.
It became excessively hard to breathe. Black spots swam before my eyes. I wanted him off me. I wanted him—
He groaned and tried to get up. All it did was push his body closer into mine.
I started to scream.
Seconds later, all the weight was gone and the sound of a familiar—yet angry—voice floated above me. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
“She’s my sister,” another voice argued.
I started to shake. The adrenaline in my system was too much to handle so fast. “Ivy,” Braeden said. “Baby, I’m gonna touch you.”
His gentle hands lifted me off the ground. I barely registered the crowd around us or the music playing through the club.
“You’re okay,” he promised, his voice soothing and close to my ear.
A sob ripped from my chest, and I pushed my face into his shoulder. He picked me up and held me against him.
I liked the way he felt. His arms didn’t feel like panic. They felt safe.
We started moving through the place. A minute later, the cool night air brushed across my skin and lifted my hair.
“We’re going home,” Braeden said, and I heard the sound of gravel crunching under his feet.
It was soon joined by more of the same behind us.
“What the fuck happened back there?” Drew yelled.
Braeden stopped, his body tense. I concentrated on breathing. “We’re going home,” he said, tight.
“I want a fucking explanation for what just happened!” he roared.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice weak and my throat raw.
Braeden’s hold tightened around me. “Hush.”
“Now is not the time.” Romeo cut in, his voice the only reasonable one.
“That’s my sister,” Drew growled.
“I get it. She’s like one to me too,” Romeo replied. “Which is why you need to let B handle his shit and take her home. Standing in a parking lot and arguing isn’t good for her.”
Braeden started walking again. In the truck, my head started to clear a little. I was able to hear my own thoughts.
“Braeden,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything, baby.” He tucked me closer into his side.
“What’s happening to me?” My voice broke.
He didn’t say anything, but I knew he saw it too.
Something was wrong with me.
I was scared.
Chapter Twenty
Braeden
Right before I carried her out of the club, the crowd parted.
She was standing right there at the edge, staring.
Our eyes locked.
The threats she made to take me down had been just that, threats. Words she never intended to follow through with.
How did I know?
The stark, unbridled fear in her eyes.
Missy knew I was at my snapping point. She knew the unspoken truce between us to not say shit was crumbling.
This was my final straw.
Something had to give.
I wouldn’t watch Ivy suffer this way.
It was time I told her the truth.
Meanwhile,
At the Mental Ward…
(AKA Part Two)
Chapter Twenty-One
&
nbsp; Zach
Dope me up.
That’s all they wanted to do to me here. They wanted to cram pills down my throat to “fix” me because it was easier than trying to change who I was—who I would always be at the core.
They didn’t need to know that, though.
All these people in their white coats with understanding smiles and happy, positive outlooks could keep living in their fantasy world. I’d play along. It pissed me off more than anyone would ever understand, more than they would ever see. I was good at hiding what was really inside me.
The best, actually.
I walked through these halls in my designer slippers and pajamas. Frankly, it made me feel like Hugh Hefner, like I was at some spa, and I often wondered if these people really believed they were any better than the prisoners here (prisoners = patients).
We were all liars. I was just more honest about who I was than the rest. My honesty got me locked up here, in this cushy treatment center where they could fix me and tell the courts I was no longer crazy. That I was a functioning, contributing member to society.
Though, I always was that. I just wasn’t what everyone else deemed appropriate. I just didn’t behave the way everyone else thought I should.
Screw that and screw them.
But I could play their game. I could pretend to be exactly who they wanted. I could sit in my therapy sessions across from my grossly inadequate therapist who cared more about her Botoxed forehead than anything that came out of my mouth.
I said what she wanted to hear, and she made the appropriate noises and asked me how I felt.
The truth was I felt like laughing.
Sometimes the laugh would bubble up inside me, rising up like a tidal wave in the center of a violent storm. It would threaten to burst out, escaping into the room, and turn from one single giggle into an ongoing, high-pitched laugh that made me sound like a hyena.
A few times, I actually choked trying to force the reaction back down. I used it to my advantage too. I turned it into a sob and was “overcome by emotion.” Remorse for what I’d done. Guilt for the pain I caused and agony from the effects of my childhood.
#Poser Page 13