Unraveled (Twisted Series)

by Dani Matthews

  I nod with resignation. If baring my soul to Noah meant keeping my brother out of my mess, then I guess it would be worth it.

  “You stay away from Cole for a while as well,” he adds.

  “Okay.” That one will be easy enough because when Cole's mad, he avoids me like the plague.

  ***

  The next morning my mood is dark and grim. It's going to be a bad, bad day. First off, I am dreading the conversation I'd foolishly promised Noah in the heat of desperation. I have no idea how much I plan on telling him, but I do know I need to get Noah to understand that I am not the girl he thinks I am. He needs to stop trying to save me all the time. It's like torture being around him now that he has feelings for me.

  As for Cole...I have no idea what happens now. Either he'll get over it or we break up. As usual, I know the smart choice would be to end it with him, but if I do that, then I will be once again completely alone. I've destroyed everything with Noah, or I will by the end of tonight and my brother is rarely around. When I'd moved here, I'd wanted a change from my old life, but I hadn't been expecting any of this. I've basically exchanged one abusive life for another.

  With grim resolve, I force myself to head downstairs for breakfast. When I enter the kitchen, I can hear Tate talking in an odd sort of excited tone to Noah—who as usual is sitting at the island counter with his back to the hall. I walk past him and head for the refrigerator to grab my breakfast.

  “Hey, Blayre,” Tate greets.

  “Hey.” I grab an apple and shut the refrigerator door.

  “Morning,” I hear Noah say.

  I'd like to ignore him but I turn so he can read my lips. My eyes lift and they abruptly widen as I take in the dark purple bruise marring his strong jaw. My mouth falls open as I demand, “What the hell happened?”

  Tate speaks up before Noah can. “He tried to split up a fight at the Grill last night and ended up in one himself. I wish I would have been there. I'm a cop and Noah can even lay me flat. He's been taking mixed martial arts classes for years,” he says admirably and clearly he's just like any other red-blooded male—he enjoys a good fight.

  I turn on Noah and he meets my gaze, his brown eyes deliberate as he says, “The other guy looks much worse.”

  Damn Cole.

  ***

  Instead of getting out of my car when I arrive at school, I wait and watch to see when Cole arrives. I can't believe he'd gone after Noah. Obviously the man can take care of himself but still...you don't go and beat up a deaf guy.

  I'm seething with anger and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if someone told me I have steam coming out of my ears. My opinion of Cole has changed since I'd woken up this morning and I've decided that at this point, I want nothing to do with him. Does that mean I want to break up with him? I don't know yet, but I do need some time away from him to try to clear my head.

  When I hear the roar of a motorcycle, I look up and watch as Cole cruises into the parking lot and finds a parking space several down from mine. It's getting late and most of the students have left to go inside before the final bell rings.

  I climb out and slam my car door shut before heading straight for him. He's just climbed off his motorcycle when he spots me. His body tenses but he stands there and waits for me to approach him. As I get closer, I see that his face is free of bruises or cuts. Evidently he'd sent someone else to do his dirty work.

  “How could you?” I demand accusingly as I pause in front of him.

  His eyes narrow with irritation. “He couldn't wait to go running to you, could he?”

  “It wasn't like that,” I say defensively. “He was in the kitchen and I asked about the bruise on his jaw. And by the way, he claims he got in a fight at the Grill breaking up another fight. He never said your name but I know you well enough to know you were behind it.”

  “No one gets away with the shit he pulled yesterday,” he says coldly.

  “So you go after a deaf guy?”

  “Who's your fucking boyfriend, Blayre? Him or me?”

  “Last time I checked it was you, but at this point I'm beginning to have second thoughts.”

  “Yeah? Who's been lying to me all this time?” he counters back. “That would be you.”

  “Because I knew you'd act like this! It was just a kiss and I told you already, he kissed me. I pulled back and told him I have a boyfriend.”

  “If I am supposedly so important to you, you wouldn't be defending him over me right now, would you?” he challenges.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” he mimics tauntingly.

  I glare at him. “You sent someone after my deaf housemate. What part of that doesn't sound messed up to you? Of course I am going to defend him! He didn't do anything wrong but try to protect me in his own home.”

  “Typical, Blayre. Defending everyone else but me,” he says darkly before he turns and walks away from me.

  “That's all I ever do is defend your ass to every single person in my life! I'm dizzy from riding your bipolar roller coaster!” I shout after him.

  All this does is earn me the finger from him—of course he flips me off over his shoulder rather than face me—which earns me some interested glances from the few students that have arrived late for school.

  I'm left glaring at his back as I stand there. One of these days, it is going to be me walking away from him. If I could just work up the nerve to do it and mean it. Cole was like an addiction. I couldn't seem to let him go.

  My phone chimes in my pocket and I pull it out and glance at the text message.

  NOAH: We're going to have a talk tonight about that asshole you call a boyfriend.

  I sigh and slip my phone in my pocket. What was it going to take for me to end it with Cole? He's killed someone and he's hit me. What next? I'm stupid if I stick around to wait and find out but it's also not that easy to let him go. We both had a hand in that robbery and if we split up, would we just go our separate ways and take the secret to our grave? Somehow, I don't think breaking up with Cole would be that easy.

  ***

  When I get home after school, I actually sit down at the dining room table and spread my homework out across it. Cole's ignoring me completely and with Paige gone, I literally have nothing to do now during my free time. After being dragged into the counselor's office this afternoon to be warned that I was failing four of my classes and was teetering on the edge of not being able to graduate, I figure I better start trying to turn my grades around.

  With a sigh, I glance at the scattered books and papers across the table before glancing out the patio doors longingly. It's sunny out and I'm tempted to work outside but that would be too distracting. I hate homework with a passion. I'm not stupid but wasn't thrilled to be putting my brain to use doing stuff that I likely wouldn't need in the future. It wasn't like I was going to college or anything.

  I pick up my pen and tap it on the table as I fidget and try to concentrate on my paper about Macbeth. It's hard to ignore temptation though, especially with the birds chirping cheerfully outside.

  After another sigh, I drop the pen and rise to my feet. The sliding glass door open easily in my hands as I step outside and head for one of the large flower pots. It's November now and the temperatures were staying steady around the mid-sixties, but I know next month they'll begin to drop. Some of the flowers will be done blooming and I'll miss their bright beauty in the backyard.

  I figure Noah won't mind if I pluck a few, so I grab two large orange flowers and lift them to my nose and inhale their delicate fragrance. Their scent reminds me of summer and sunshine. With a satisfied smile on my face, I head back inside and grab a glass and fill it with water. Then I put the pretty blooms in the glass and set it in the middle of the table. Now I have something pretty to look at while I work on the dreaded assignment.

  I must have fallen asleep because I hear a loud bang and my entire body jerks, causing me to fall off the kitchen chair. I'd been dreaming about the robbery and the gunfire still echoe
s in my ears. My butt hurts from my fall and I sit there on the floor and look around sleepily before I catch sight of Noah.

  “You okay?” He is standing by the garage door, his expression one of surprise as he stares at me.

  I realize it must have been the sound of the garage door slamming shut that had woken me up. Slowly, I rise to my feet and rub my aching rear end. “Yeah. You startled me,” I say as I move back to my chair and gingerly sit down.

  Noah enters the kitchen. “I'd say, were you sleeping?” he asks as he walks over and his eyes take in my school work scattered across the table.

  “Must've been, considering I normally don't dive to the floor when I'm fully conscious,” I say dryly.

  “I didn't know if you'd be here or not.”

  I sigh and meet his eyes. “We made a deal. I'll honor it,” I say grudgingly.

  He nods. “I'll make us dinner while you do your homework.”

  “I can help.”

  “Homework, Blayre.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I say as I shoot him an annoyed look.

  Noah's expression suddenly looks tortured. “Never, ever call me that again.”

  “Then don't act like one,” I muse.

  He shakes his head and walks away to wash up before making our dinner. When he comes back, we work in contented silence. While he moves around the kitchen, I focus my attention on doing my homework. You'd think that he'd be a distraction but he's not. If anything, I manage to concentrate better. Maybe it's because I'm aware I'm not alone in the house or maybe it's the fact that he is the one pushing me to do my homework. I don't know.

  Either way, I accomplished more than I had in the last week before we settle down to eat at the table after I cleared my papers from it.

  As we eat, I expect Noah to dive in to the conversation I'd promised to have with him but instead he keeps it light and we talk about random stuff, like the fact that the holidays are coming up—which I am absolutely dreading—but I don't tell him that. We discuss the weather and how relieved I am that I won't have to deal with snow. It's just little things that fill our conversation and it's easy to eat and chat at the same time.

  When we're finished, I help Noah clean up. He then pours us two glasses of lemonade and grabs his cigarettes after asking if I mind. I shake my head and we head out to the patio to sit at the table. My nerves are suddenly on edge. The moment is here where I have to answer his questions and try to get him to understand that whatever good he saw in me was clearly a figment of his imagination.

  Noah lights up a cigarette and takes a drag before focusing his attention on me. “Are you willing to share anything with me on your own or do I have to drag it out of you with numerous questions?”

  “Numerous questions it is.” If I had it my way, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

  He looks disappointed but nods as he flicks some ash off his cigarette. “Why Cole?”

  I'd been expecting him to dive right into the whole 'cutting' thing so I am caught off guard. I think over his question for a long moment and remind myself that I need to answer as honestly as I can or Noah isn't ever going to realize I can't be the person he wants me to be. “You mean what drew me to him?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  I shrug. “He doesn't care what others think. He does his own thing and doesn't try to be something he's not.”

  “What else?”

  “I like his attention. He's...” I pause, trying to figure out how to say this tactfully without ticking Noah off. I want to say that I'm obviously extremely attracted to him but I nix that. “He's attractive and fun to be around.”

  Noah studies me. “He's your first boyfriend, right?”

  “What of it?”

  He shakes his head at my tone. “Relax, I'm not trying to insinuate anything. I'm just trying to understand what his appeal is to you.” He sits back in his chair and watches me as he continues, “You say you've done bad things with him. Did you like doing these bad things with him? Is that part of his appeal as well?”

  My lips purse as my eyes drop and I study the glass of lemonade in front of me. I definitely enjoy the drugs even though they're bad. The convenience store...well, obviously that is the one thing I never wish I'd been a part of.

  Instead of pushing me to answer, Noah is patiently silent as he picks up his cigarette and smokes while he waits.

  Finally, I sigh loudly and opt for the truth, or as much as I am willing to give him when it comes to it. “Cole's life is...different than what I am used to. He's been involved with stuff. I've...done stuff I didn't think I ever would.”

  “Like what?”

  I meet his gaze and decide it's time to throw it all out there. I have no choice. I can't have Noah following me around and trying to mold me into someone I could never be. This is where we need to part ways and I need to make it clear I'm not worth any of this.

  “Like drugs,” I say simply as I watch him closely.

  Noah stares long and hard at me. “Drugs?” he repeats softly.

  “I've done acid and crack to name a few. Ecstasy is my favorite.”

  He draws in a deep breath and sets the cigarette down on the ashtray, his expression unreadable. “How often do you do these drugs?”

  “As often as I can.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it's fun. Because for a little while, I don't have to be me.”

  Noah falls silent, his brown eyes on me. “So that's what you do with Cole? Drugs and sex?”

  “Don't forget the alcohol,” I toss in off handedly. It's impossible to read Noah's thoughts and I have no clue where this conversation will take us.

  His lips tighten slightly. “Has Cole pressured you into these things? Did he pressure you into sex?”

  “No, of course not,” I say instinctively, though Cole had been pushy over that one but in the end I'd given up my virginity of my own free will.

  “And drugs?”

  I sigh. “Sometimes,” I say truthfully.

  Noah rubs a hand over his jaw and he is clearly processing what I've told him. “What about the abuse? Did you look past it because he was the one who got you high when you wanted it?”

  This is where the conversation is going to start getting tough. I know he's going to ask me about the cutting and I've decided to tell him about my aunt and uncle as long as he swears not to tell Tate. But at this point, I'm scared to go there with him.

  “He didn't hurt me very often. It didn't seem like that big of a deal.”

  “Tell me this. What else do you guys do when you’re together? Do you actually have a relationship besides the drugs and sex?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Does he ever sit down and talk to you like you and I are talking? Has he ever been concerned at all over your actions or how you're feeling? Does it bother him when you're upset or does he focus more on himself and what he wants?”

  I fall silent and pick up my glass to take a sip. I know where he's going with this and I'm not sure if I'm bothered by the truth or not. As usual, Noah waits me out and I sigh. “We talk but not like this,” I admit grudgingly.

  He shakes his head, his expression softening with his next words. “If he cares about you, Blayre, he'd want to know these things. I know you don't want to hear this but he's just using you. How can you want to be with someone who won't give you anything of himself?”

  “Have you ever considered that I might be using him as well?” I counter back calmly.

  “And are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “For the drugs?”

  “Partly.”

  “The sex?” he asks tightly.

  I look at him mutely, refusing to answer that one.

  “Lay it out for me, Blayre.”

  “He doesn't want me to be someone else. He accepts me as I am, flaws and all. I don't feel like I have to be a different person with him.”

  “And you feel like I see you differently? That I pressure you to be someone other than yourself?”
Noah asks with a frown.

  “Yes!”

  “How?”

  “You treat me like I'm a good person.”

  His gaze holds mine steadily. “I treat you like a good person because I see it in you. It's there, whether you want to believe it or not. I haven't once asked you to be something you are not and don't you sit there and tell me you've been putting on an act with me. I can read people pretty damn well nowadays and all your reactions have been honest. You react instinctively to me and it's not some persona you pull on when I'm around. It's real.”

  “I just told you I do drugs. How is that good in your eyes?”

  “It's not,” he says honestly. “Blayre, we all make mistakes in life. How else do we learn? Unfortunately drugs in high school isn't a rarity, either. I did Marijuana and some stuff years ago because it's what you do when you're young—you try things out and learn from your mistakes.”

  I stare at him because I can't believe he's telling me I'm still worth the effort he's putting into me.

  “If you think that doing drugs is going to make me want to give up on you, you're wrong. It frustrates me to no end that you are doing these things to yourself, but that doesn't make you bad. What I see is a woman who is confused.”

  “I'm not confused,” I mumble.

  “The hell you're not.”

  Well, hell. I'd expected a different reaction out of him and instead he's trying to be supportive. He's also right. I guess I am confused.

  “So Cole is nothing more than a diversion. He's a distraction, a way to feel good about yourself even for a brief moment of time, am I right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who's got you feeling so down on yourself, Blayre? I've noticed that someone's obviously messed with you in the past for you to feel so negatively about yourself. Who has made you feel like you deserve a guy like Cole?”

  I look down at my hands. God, I don't want to go there.

  “You can trust me,” Noah assures softly.

  I already know that or I wouldn't be sitting here trying to be as honest with him as I can. I look up at him pleadingly. “I don't think I'm ready to go there with you yet.”