Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series)

by Brannon, M. S.

  Delilah’s eyes are huge as she looks out her window. She connects them with mine and then back out toward the growing crowd several times. “Uh… what are we doing?”

  I lean back in my seat, staring directly into her eyes. It’s obvious she’s terrified—she looks like a scared little kid—but what she doesn’t know yet is how much fun she’s going to have.

  “Stay here.” I exit the car and make my way over to Ronnie where everyone is placing bets and exchanging money. I add my bets to the mix and climb back into the car. My usual trash talk is mute when I get a look at Delilah. She’s about to bail out of the car and I can’t have her freaking out just yet; we’ve got a race to win.

  Jeremy fires the engine and all you hear is the loud roar of the Challenger. We turn on our traditional racing song, The Boys are Back in Town by Thin Lizzy and put our game faces on.

  I turn in my seat just before the race starts and say, “This is the part where you’re going to piss your pants.”

  “I’m gonna… what?” Delilah barely gets the words out before Jeremy slams on the accelerator and flies down the straightaway, leaving a cloud of dust behind us.

  Chapter 4

  Delilah

  On the short ride to wherever we are going, I start thinking about what Jake has said and it’s unsettling to say the least. I’ve never used my social status or my parents’ money to determine who I can and cannot be friends with. Presley is a prime example of that. She hasn’t grown up in the same gated community I have, but when I found her hiding under the slide when we were six, I wanted to help her. I didn’t care if her parents were middle class individuals or she lived on a more modest side of town. Presley needed my help and I did exactly that, I helped. We got to know one another and she became my very best friend.

  However, when Jake clearly states I portray a person who acts better than any of them, I’m immediately taken aback. Do I really give off that vibe? Is that why Darcie treats me the way she does; because I carry myself like I’m better than her? I’ve never thought of myself like that. If they really want to know, I thought I was giving an impression of the exact opposite and that’s the God’s honest truth.

  As much as I respect my mother, I’ve never once wanted to treat people of a lower class the way she does. Not once. Frankly, I’m ashamed to be around her when she acts like that. Now I’m questioning every move I’ve made the last three weeks that I’ve been here.

  My inner turmoil dissipates when I take in my surroundings. Where in the Sam-hell have they taken me? Looking out the small window, crowds are gathering around a long line of cars. They are fisting beers and liquor bottles while holding cigarettes and laughing with one another.

  Jeremy pulls up and stops next to a small purple car. Holy. Moly. Have they taken me to the races? Presley would talk about them incessantly the first year she moved here and told me they’re an experience like no other.

  At first, I assume Jake and I are going to get out and watch Jeremy race, yet when he tells me to stay in the car, I grow increasingly more nervous. Almost instantly, I know why. Before I can even protest, the loud roar of the engine is vibrating my seat and filling my eardrums, and then we are flying down an old dirt road, leaving the crowd covered in dust.

  A shrill scream is burning my throat as I watch my life flash before my eyes. Granted, I like to drive fast, but that’s when I’m in control of the car and not trusting my life to a guy I barely know and his idiot brother.

  “AHHHHHH,” I scream again.

  Jake is laughing hysterically and Jeremy has the most intense look on his face.

  I’m feeling out of control and that we’re going to die. I just know it. He is going to kill me at the age of nineteen and I will be a mangled mess for my funeral. It will have to be a closed casket. My poor family; they’ll never see me again. I look out the windshield between Jake and Jeremy’s shoulders and can clearly see the road is coming to an end, but we’re not stopping. Oh, my sweet baby Jesus, he’s speeding up.

  I grab Jeremy’s shoulder and start smacking his arm. “STOP! We’re going to crash!”

  Jake pushes me back, hard against the seat and demands, “Sit back and hold on, cupcake, here comes the fun part.”

  I can’t protest anything. My body is spinning in an out of control vortex and my stomach is lurched in my throat, threatening to fly out of my mouth. I keep my eyes closed tightly as the car makes a sharp turn to the left and then accelerates again. Only a few more seconds go by and I’m being thrust forward into the back of Jake’s seat. Then the car comes to a screeching halt.

  When I open my eyes, a cloud of dust is surrounding the car and Jake’s brown eyes are lit up, dancing with excitement. I’m going to kill him. He’s nearly had me killed and now I’m going to tear out his throat.

  “So, how was that for fun?” The smirk on his face is evil and conceited; I’m going to knock it clean off his face.

  “Let me out!” I shout at the top of my lungs. My chest is heaving from anger and my hands have taken on an uncontrollable shake. I start pushing against his seat as hard as my muscles will allow, but he refuses to budge. “I said, let me OUT!”

  Jake just stares at me, the look of rage boiling right below the surface of his eyes, but I refuse to back down, not this time. We are in a tight space and our eyes are locked in an internal showdown. Neither one of us is going to give in. I envision slapping him across the face as I stare him down. I push on the back of his seat again until Jeremy exits the driver’s side and I quickly follow suit. I move to the back of the car where I suck in large gulps of air. I can’t stop my hands from shaking; I’m not sure if it’s from anger or the mere fact I was about killed two minutes ago. It’s probably a combination of both.

  Once my anger starts to subside, I really notice everyone staring at me. I stick out like a sore thumb around here in my pale pink sundress with matching wedges. Everyone around here looks like they’ve stepped out of a hard rock video wearing black… everything. I need to calm myself down. I guess I was acting a little crazy, but I didn’t know how else to act. I’ve never done something so reckless in my life.

  Turning my back to the onlookers, I spot Jake as he makes his way to the back of the car, eyes still intense while he wears an indecipherable mask. He’s stalking toward me like a stealth panther, his body moving effortless and slow.

  I close my eyes. I need to focus because I’m really angry with him right now, however it’s not because I’m scared for my life. Oh, no, it’s because he was right and the good Lord knows I don’t want to admit it. Flying down a dirt road at one hundred miles per hour was exhilarating, liberating and out of control.

  For those few short minutes, I was not concerned about everyone’s perception of me or how I was supposed to act. I didn’t care if my hair was messed up or if I looked disheveled because I was feeling something entirely foreign. The moment we made that turn on the road, I kept my eyes closed so tightly that it felt like I was freefalling into an undiscovered part of myself. A part I never even knew existed.

  It’s invigorating.

  He instantly picks up my attitude and his irresistible smile peaks up at the corner of his mouth. Rolling my eyes, I concede, “I just hate you, Jake Evans.”

  He moves closer to me, leaning his body against the back of the car, arms crossed over his chest and looking like the cocky jerk he is. “And why’s that, cupcake?”

  “Ugh… I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I had fun.” I look back at him and his smile has exploded all over his face. He lets out a little, devilish laugh and stalks his way closer to me. The current between us is unfamiliar and unnerving. With every painful minute I spend with Jake Evans, the harder it is for me to get away from him. There is something evident between us; it’s not romantic, it’s something more—something deeper. The only questions is, am I adventurous enough to find out what that is?

  Jake

  I knew I was right about her. She’s going to be an adrenaline junkie, addi
cted to every intense high. It will now become my challenge to test how far I can go with her, to see if she’s willing to jump when I tell her how high.

  It’s impossible for me to deny the feelings I have growing toward her. Am I like Drake and Reggie, all love sick and stupid? Hell, no, but the feeling is surprising nonetheless.

  Delilah breaks our gaze and leans herself against the car. She is out of place here and the looks from everyone else are starting to irritate me. To outsiders, it looks out of sorts for me to have a rich beauty standing next to me. Well, with the exception of Miranda Cross who I spent a few weeks with during high school, but she’s known for fucking dudes on the wrong side of the tracks and is nowhere near as hot as Delilah.

  Guys are walking by, obviously eyeing her from head to toe, and I want to rip their heads off. I can feel the tension building in my arms and I start clenching my fists. I’ve never once been protective of a woman like Delilah. Presley and Darcie have been the only females I’ve ever stood up for, but they’re family. As a big brother, that’s my job. Now, Delilah is here, standing next to me, and all I want do is protect her. As a big brother? Definitely not, though as a friend, perhaps. She’s innocent and has no idea what kind of people live around here. Grady McGuire is the number one example. He takes advantage of women, feeds on their naivety, and it is sad to say that there are other men living like that in Sulfur Heights.

  “Jake, come get your money so we can get the hell out of here.” Jeremy breaks my trance as he heads over to Ronnie.

  I turn to Delilah, who is still living in her own little world. “You might want to get back in the car or come with me. There is no way I’m leaving you here by yourself.”

  “I’ll come with you. I’m not sure I’m ready to get back in the car yet.” We push off the car and walk toward the growing crowd around Ronnie.

  The noise coming from the group is deafening as we get closer to the middle. Delilah leans closer to me, and before I realize it, she’s linked her arm inside of mine. Feeding on my new instinct for her, I pull her tightly toward me and clasp her hand, holding it close to my body. Her hand is tiny inside of mine, but the tension of her grip is firm.

  I walk to the front of the line, dragging Delilah with me, and get my winnings from Ronnie. On our way out of the crowd, some jackass decides to make a comment about Delilah’s ass and my irritation accelerates. This couples with my own uneasiness about this growing relationship I’m feeling between us. To top it all off, everyone’s staring at her like she’s a fucking zoo animal.

  I flip.

  I pivot my body, engaging my eyes with his. I don’t bother looking over at Delilah or anyone else, just this jack ass who’s been stupid enough to make a comment about a girl who’s on my arm. I walk my way over to him, keeping my grip on Delilah’s hand. When I’m chest to chest with the jerk, I yank her back so she’s standing behind me.

  “Care to say that again, asshole?” I say through gritted teeth.

  Delilah peeks her head around my shoulder and whispers, “What did he say?”

  The dickhead laughs and is now surrounded by his cronies. He’s got a lot of balls laughing at me right now, and it’s going to be painfully obvious to him what a giant mistake he’s just made. I don’t recognize him or his friends; it’s apparent he doesn’t know the reputation of the Evans brothers.

  “What’s wrong with her voice? She sounds like one of those illiterate retards from the back woods of Deliverance.” His eyes break from mine and look directly into hers. Big mistake, asswipe. “Do us a favor, don’t speak. Just stand there and look sexy.”

  I feel Delilah shrink into my back, defeated from what the asshole’s said. I look to Jeremy out the corner of my eye, who’s now standing by my side, fists clenched, ready for anything. Cocking my arm back, I smash my balled fist into this joker’s face. The bridge of his nose cracks when my knuckles connect with his bones.

  Blood is pouring down his face when Ronnie soon steps between us. He motions to the broken douche at my feet and says, “Look, guys, I can get a hundred people here that will tell you fighting these guys isn’t a good idea.” Ronnie’s finger is pointing to Jeremy and me as he continues, “Your man got what he deserved, insulting Jake’s woman, so I suggest you get in your cars and go home.”

  Jake’s woman. That can’t be good for future lays.

  The crowd breaks up as the idiots pick up their friend and drag his bloody body back to their car.

  I turn to Delilah and she’s staring back at me. I’m not sure if she’s going to slap me again or what. Her face is unreadable. I ready myself for a sting across the face when her arms rise. Instead, she wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me. It takes me a few seconds to register what she’s doing, then I respond by closing my arms around her.

  “Thank you,” Delilah whispers to my chest. She is tiny and her skin is soft. I lean my head down to get closer to hers and take in the lavender scent of her hair.

  “You’re welcome,” I whisper back and for the second time today, I’m experiencing new feelings and it’s starting to really piss me off.

  Chapter 5

  Delilah

  The sound of retching wakes me up from a peaceful slumber and I can’t stand it anymore. I’ve kept my nose out of it, knowing she would have to realize soon what’s going on with her, but it’s been going on for weeks and she’s still living in la-la land.

  I yank the covers off my body and round the corner, standing just outside the bathroom door. When I push the door open a little bit, Presley is lying in a heap on the bathroom floor, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand. The room smells like vomit and is about to make me gag then throw up myself.

  I’ve known Presley for a long time, and a few weeks before I set out to come here, she practically begged me to keep the events of her past a secret.

  She admitted Drake had no idea about her bouts with depression, anorexia and being checked into a rehab facility just before her parents died. Presley said no one here would understand and it was better to leave it alone. I, on the other hand, thought—and still do—that Drake had a right to know. Just like I have the right to know what happened to her when she moved to Sulfur Heights.

  I’m not blind. It’s obvious something terrible has happened to Presley since she’s been here, however, whenever I bring it up, she avoids the subject and runs off. Actually, she’s been avoiding me a lot since I’ve come here. After our first night, she seems to be very distant and insists on staying home, locked in her room, instead of spending time with me. Or we’ll watch a movie, never talking.

  I think she knows what I’m going to ask and she’s doing her best to avoid having the conversation with me. I want to ask someone about it. I’m not comfortable enough with Darcie to confide in her, and as far as the others, I get this sense of secrecy from them. It will be impossible to break any of them down to tell me what really happened with her uncle, but if anyone is going to talk to me, it will be Jake. Let’s face it, I’ve given Presley my word I would never talk about her past with Drake or anyone else, and in all fairness, they are showing Presley the same respect.

  She finally notices me standing at the bathroom door. She’s a mess. I hope to God we can help her. I hope this doesn’t lead her down that dark path again.

  I break the silence. “You know, doll, you’ve been doing this every day for a while now. Don’t you think you need to go to the doctor? To find out for sure?”

  Presley looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Wow, she really has no clue. Maybe I should break it down for her and help her come to the realization of what’s happening to her.

  “For sure about what? That I have the flu?”

  I simply bring it to light as I study her appearance and then ask, “What other symptoms do you have? Exhaustion?”

  “Yes”

  “Nausea?”

  “Duh, I just got done puking my guts out!”

  Yikes.

  “Irritability, definitely,” I snap back. />
  “So what kind of flu is this? I’ve never felt so horrible in my life.”

  Just because my father is a doctor, doesn’t give me a surplus of knowledge about anything health related. Regardless, every woman knows what the pregnancy symptoms are. Don’t they?

  I turn my head to the side as I lean against the sink. “How about sore boobs?”

  “You have no idea; they hurt so badly.”

  Yep, she’s definitely pregnant. I remember my aunt, Laura, complaining how her breasts hurt one drunken night my mother and she were reminiscing over how their bodies changed during pregnancy. My cousin, Marybeth, and I just sat there, utterly disgusted and making a pact to not be like them at their age.

  She reeks of puke and I can’t stand to smell her anymore or I will be getting sick right alongside of her. I squat down and lift Presley off the floor. Walking to her dresser, I pull out a clean pair of pajama shorts and top then help her get dressed. I walk to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and taking it back to her. She guzzles it down without taking a breath. She is breathing heavily from chugging the water as I sit down next to her on the bed.

  I really don’t want to be the one to tell her this, but it is apparent she is not going to get there on her own. Or she is in such big denial, being pregnant is the last thing coming to her mind.

  “Oh, honey, you don’t have the flu. You’re pregnant, Presley.”

  She laughs out of denial and looks at me like I’m the stupidest person on earth. “I don’t think so, Delilah. We are careful.”

  “Are you on birth control? Have you ever had unprotected sex?” I ask.

  “No, I’m not on birth control and we’ve only done it one time without protection. It was a long time ago when we were really drunk at The Slab and snuck into the storage room and since then we’ve al—” Presley’s face turns ghostly white.

  “And then, what?”