Unraveled (Twisted Series)

by Dani Matthews

  “Waiting for you.”

  “I said everything I had to say last night.”

  “I got kicked out before I had the rest of my say,” he says with a pointed look.

  “Let's get one thing straight here. Cole is my boyfriend, not you. You have no rights to me whatsoever.”

  Noah sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks away for a second before he glances back at me again, his eyes grim. “Okay, fine. Let's just temporarily forget we almost slept together. I'm your friend right now and I am worried about you,” he says simply.

  I don't like the direction this conversation is taking and my arms fold across my chest. “Noah, there's nothing to talk about. I'm fine.”

  “Bull.” He rises to his feet and motions for the bed. “Sit. I'll stand since you're obviously still determined to keep me at arm’s length.”

  “I don't want to have this conversation with you.”

  “If you care about me at all, Blayre, let me talk.”

  He's mad and the tone of his voice has me feeling guilty for being so mean to him lately. Without a word, I walk over to my bed and sit down in the spot he'd just vacated. I've made such a miserable mess out of our relationship. I hate that this is what we've been left with.

  Noah crosses his arms and studies me as he stands before me. “Does Cole know? He must if you two are having sex.” His expression is calm but I can see the tightness around his eyes and mouth.

  My mouth opens to tell him it's none of his business but I already know that'll be the equivalent of beating my head against a brick wall. Noah is determined to have this out and I have a feeling he'd be haunting my every move until I began to answer his questions. “Yes,” I say.

  “And what does he think of what you do?”

  I glower at him. “It's my life, not his.”

  “I asked what he thinks,” he says with irritation.

  “He accepts me as I am.”

  “In other words, he doesn't care because it doesn't get in the way of what he wants,” he says with barely concealed disgust.

  “Maybe he just knows when to step back instead of pushing.”

  “If he's okay with you mutilating yourself, then clearly he's using you. Nobody in their right mind would stand back and allow someone they care about to do that to themself.”

  I flinch at the word “mutilating.” It sounds so ugly and my hands clench into fists. I have a strong desire to walk out on this conversation but I know it's pointless. If we didn't have it out now, we'd have it out later.

  “Blayre, I know you don't want to hear this but you need help. I've been doing research on this and it's obviously turned into an addiction. You can't stop it on your own, not with as long as you've been at it. And guessing by all your scars, it's been years at least. You need professional help.”

  The color drains from my face as I stare at him. The idea of seeing a shrink and allowing them to poke around in my head frightens me more than prison. “I'm fine. I can stop any time I want, I just choose not to,” I argue as I struggle to stay calm. Panicking in front of Noah would get me absolutely nowhere.

  Noah shakes his head, not looking the slightest bit convinced. “I don't buy that. Answer me this. Do you do it because in some weird way it helps you deal with whatever has you upset enough to cut, or is it more of a punishment of some sort?”

  I look away.

  “Or is it both?” he asks softly.

  I refuse to answer him.

  He squats down in front of me. “Look at me, please.”

  Slowly, my eyes shift to him.

  “Somehow, I am going to find a way to help you.”

  “Don't bother.”

  His eyes hold mine for a minute and then he rises to his feet. “Good night, Blayre,” he says before he turns and leaves my room.

  I stare after him for a long time as I try to calm my frantic thoughts. What would happen now? Would he eventually tell Tate?

  ***

  Strangely enough, Noah eased up on his crusade to save me from myself that week and I remember it passing by in a blur. I have no idea why he backed off, but it was easy to fall back into old habits. My days were filled with school, drugs and sex. Being with Cole was the only distraction I had and I clung to it almost desperately. In the back of my mind I'd known I was beyond any kind of salvation.

  Even Noah with all his determination couldn't save me at that point.

  I couldn't even work up the courage to save myself.

  Anger

  A rage has come over her

  After school on Monday, Cole takes me by surprise and asks if we can hang at my house after school. I'm a little uneasy with the idea but Tate will be gone by four and Noah is normally at the college until five or later. Once we grab a bite to eat at a fast food joint, we head back to the house. It's about quarter after four when I pull up in the driveway and Cole parks his motorcycle at the curb.

  As we head up the little rock path that leads to the front door, I warn him that when Noah comes home, we need to leave.

  “What's the big deal? You can't have your boyfriend over or something when he's around?” Cole asks as we head inside.

  I sigh inwardly. It seems like Cole's becoming suspicious of Noah. I don't think Cole had cared one bit until he had seen Noah in all his shirtless glory. I figure he's jealous. Fortunately, he has absolutely no idea how much he really should be jealous.

  I wasn't about to clue him in, either. I feel bad keeping what happened with Noah a secret but I know Cole well enough to know he'll flip out. Our relationship has been problem free and I have a feeling shit would hit the fan if Cole learned of my indiscretion.

  “It's not like that. It's just my brother has a bad opinion of you and it's rubbed off on Noah,” I explain, in reference to his question as we head for the kitchen.

  “Who the fuck cares what this Noah guy thinks anyway. You don't, do you?” he asks almost casually as he starts rummaging through the cupboards.

  “The only thing I'm trying to avoid are confrontations.”

  He pauses and glances at me. “He shouldn't have any reason to confront me.”

  “Don't take this the wrong way, Cole, but you tend to rub everyone the wrong way.”

  “Even you?” he asks as he gives me a roguish look.

  “Funny. What are you looking for?”

  “Liquor,” he says as he turns back to opening cupboards and inspecting their contents.

  “Liquor? Are you insane?”

  “Loosen up a little, Blayre. It'll be a rush doing this shit in a cop's house. Maybe we should go have sex out in the pool while we're at it. Or better yet, his room.”

  My arms cross over my chest as I stand near the island counter. Cole and respect definitely do not go hand in hand. “Not funny. And that cop is my brother.”

  “So? Ah...there's some Jack,” Cole says as he grabs a bottle out of the cupboard and holds it up with a triumphant smirk.

  “No,” I say firmly.

  “How's he going to know? He's in his little car right now pulling over stupid people as we speak,” he says as he unscrews the cap and takes a long drink.

  “Why do you have to push the limits all the time?”

  “Why are you always so scared to live a little?” he counters.

  “I've been doing a lot of living lately and you know it.”

  He walks over to me and holds out the bottle, his eyes glinting with challenge. “You worried your other house mate is going to catch you drinking?”

  Back to that again.

  “Why would I be worried about, Noah?” I ask with exasperation.

  “You tell me,” he says, his eyes focused intently on mine.

  A slight chill creeps up my spine. I could almost swear he knows something and I have no clue how he'd know. I try to hide my concern as I reach for the bottle and take it from him. Part of me wants to smack him on the head with it but obviously I'm not going to do that. I need him to lay off of Noah, so I take a long drink before hand
ing it back to Cole. “Happy now?”

  He studies me for a long second before he takes another drink from the bottle. “Where's his bedroom?”

  This is going downhill really fast and I don't know how to stop it. “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “Upstairs,” I say reluctantly.

  “Near yours?” Cole asks in a deceptively soft voice.

  “This house only has three bedrooms, Cole. Tate has the one on this floor. There wasn't any other option for me.”

  “So you run into him all the time,” he says slowly.

  I'm trying really hard not to look nervous. “Why are you asking all these questions?”

  “Why do you look so worried?” he asks as his eyes narrow on me.

  “I'm not.”

  Cole's green eyes deliberately scan me from head to toe, taking in my bare tanned legs that are shown off by the khaki skirt. The cute sleeveless shirt I happen to be wearing did nothing to hide my full breasts and my long dark hair falls down my back today. “You're hot as hell. I bet he's noticed.”

  “I wouldn't know.”

  He sets the bottle of liquor on the island counter and walks over to stand before me. “I saw the way he looked at you that night I was over here. He had “ownership” written all over his face. Why is that?” he asks in a carefully controlled tone.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” I say as I brush past him and walk over to the refrigerator, trying to find a way to stall. How the hell am I going to get out of this conversation? I open the fridge and grab a can of soda before I shut it.

  When I turn around, I find Cole standing right in front of me, his eyes suspicious. “Has he made any moves on you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Cole, you're being ridiculous,” I say as I search for a way to end the conversation.

  He steps closer to me and I instinctively step backwards slightly. “The way he looks at you is the way I look at you. And I've had you. Your eyes are guilty as sin, Blayre,” he growls.

  “He kissed me once. I didn't initiate it and I told him I'm taken,” I say in a quick rush.

  Fury flashes in Cole's gaze before he grabs my shoulders and shoves me backwards into the refrigerator, the can of soda dropping from my hand. Pain lances my back briefly and then Cole's right hand wraps around my throat as he slams the back of my head against the freezer door. “You've been fucking lying to me,” he hisses.

  One second I am scrambling for a way to get out of this mess and then within the next—Cole is suddenly yanked off of me. I'm shocked to see Noah standing there, his forearm pressed tight against Cole's neck, while his eyes are nearly black with anger. He glances at me briefly before he concentrates on Cole, who is fighting and struggling for all he's worth but Noah has his arms easily pinned.

  Cole swears violently, a vein popping out of his temple with anger as his face turns red. Noah calmly begins to force Cole out of the kitchen as he says, “You're not welcome here anymore,” as they disappear out of the kitchen.

  I'd had no idea Noah was even home and I hadn't bothered checking the garage. You'd think Cole and I would have learned our lesson yesterday.

  I stay frozen against the refrigerator for a second before I move into action and chase after them. I come to a skidding halt in the living room just in time to see Noah literally toss Cole out the front door before he slams the door shut and locks it. Through the large window I see Cole rise to his feet and turn back, a deadly glint in his eye as he stares at the shut door. Then he turns and calmly walks across the yard to his motorcycle.

  Once again my life is being turned upside down. Nothing stays calm for long and I want to hit something with frustration.

  Without a word or a glance, Noah walks past me, his jaw clenched.

  I find in that moment that I don't know what to do. Going after Cole was not an option right now but confronting Noah was just as bad. He'd just watched Cole manhandle me, which proves his suspicions correct all along.

  Glass shatters in the kitchen.

  My head jerks up and I race to the kitchen to see Noah standing near the island counter, his expression torn as he turns his head to stare at me. I look around to find that he'd thrown the bottle of Jack at the dining room wall and liquor was splattered all over, while the shattered bottle lay on the kitchen floor.

  Without a word to him, I turn and head for the closet near the garage door and pull out a broom and dustpan. I'm walking towards the mess when Noah's voice stops me.

  “Leave it,” he says sharply.

  I'm not sure what to do, so I wearily prop the broom against the counter and set the dust pan down before I look at him.

  He walks over to me and his hands gently run along the back of my head. His fingertips brush against the knot that is swelling and I wince. Without a word, his hands leave me as he moves away to pull the ice box out of the freezer.

  The fact that he's not speaking to me has me worried.

  I watch as he calmly puts together an ice pack for me and then hands it to me. My eyes search his and he doesn't say a word before he turns around and heads for the patio door. My eyes follow him as he goes outside and sits down with his back to me on a lounge chair, his broad shoulders still tense. I realize he's trying to control his temper, something that Cole rarely ever did.

  My eyes shut briefly and I know my life is falling apart. Noah knows that Cole is abusive and Tate's going to kill Cole when he finds out. I have no idea how to fix this. The only thing I can think of at that moment is to clean up the only mess that is currently fixable.

  I set the ice pack down on the counter and grab the broom and dust pan. I brush all the glass I can find into the dust pan and then I go to work wiping the wall down and cleaning the kitchen tiles. I'm just finishing cleaning the floor when I hear the sliding glass door open behind me. My body tenses from where I'm at on my knees.

  “Can we talk?” Noah asks quietly from behind me.

  I have the urge to turn and ask him if my answer really matters because I know he's going to have his say whether I want him to or not. But after watching him struggle with his temper, I didn't dare push him more than he's already been pushed today.

  My head lifts and I look up to meet his dark eyes. “I'm sorry.”

  His eyebrows furrow. “Why are you sorry?”

  I bite my lip and look away.

  “Come here.”

  With a sigh, I slowly rise to my feet and much to my surprise, he pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest as if I am the most important person on earth. It feels so good that I can't help but press my cheek against his chest where I can hear his heart beating steadily. Comfort sweeps through me.

  One of his hands reaches up and gently searches for the knot on the back of my head. “Did you ice it?”

  My head is still against his chest so I shake it in reference to his question.

  He eases me away from him and nods at the dining room table. “Sit. Please,” he adds when I hesitate. When I slide into one of the chairs, he walks over to grab the ice pack before he comes back and hands it to me. Once I carefully press it against the back of my head, Noah pulls out the other chair and studies me as he sits down. “Your neck is red.”

  “It'll fade.”

  “There was no fight with a girl, was there? I want the truth,” he says as he watches my lips intently.

  There's no point in lying. “No. Cole got mad when I danced with another guy.”

  “Why? Why are you staying with someone who hurts you, Blayre?”

  “You wouldn't understand.”

  “Try me,” he says softly.

  “Please don't tell, Tate,” I plead. “Tate's temper is really bad. He'll kill him.”

  “We'll talk about Tate later. I want to know why you feel it is okay to stay with someone who physically abuses you.”

  “I
t's only happened a few times. I didn't think it was that big of a deal.”

  Noah stares at me as if I've suddenly grown two heads. “Once is a big deal.”

  I'm not sure what to say to that, so I decide not to comment at all.

  “Are you going to break up with him?”

  This has me avoiding his eyes.

  “Bloody hell, Blayre, are you trying to kill yourself between the cutting and getting knocked around?” he asks as he glowers at me.

  “Of course not!”

  “Then explain it!”

  “He gets me, okay! He makes me feel normal and I feel like I can be myself!” I shout back.

  “You feel you can't be yourself around me? What the hell else is going on with you?”

  “You wouldn't understand!” I say as I jump to my feet.

  Noah rises to his feet as well. “That's because you won't give me a chance,” he says angrily.

  “You'll hate me!”

  His eyes widen with surprise. “Hate you? I could never hate you, Blayre.”

  I laugh bitterly as my fists clench at my sides. “I've done some terrible things.”

  “Like what?”

  “It doesn't matter. I'm not the girl you think I am. I'm not good like you want me to be and I've done things that you wouldn't like. You need to understand that and leave me alone.”

  “Quit beating around the bush and tell me what is so bad that you're doing. I bet Cole has a hand in it, doesn't he?” Noah asks darkly as his lip curls in the corner with disapproval.

  I need to calm down and think things through before I say anything more, so instead I switch the topic. “Promise me you won't tell Tate about the cutting or the abuse. Please? If you won't for me, then at least do it for Tate. He just lost Sean and he doesn't need the added drama of my issues. If he finds out about Cole, he'll do something stupid and you know I'm right.”

  “I'll make you a temporary deal,” he says as his eyes narrow on me with determination. “I won't tell Tate about either, if you willingly open up to me about the cutting and whatever else is going on with you. I mean it. I work tonight, but tomorrow night you owe me the evening and we're going to have a long talk.”