Revenge Games (Revenge Games Duet Book 1)

by Sky Corgan

  I end up going to bed early, and thankfully, a good night's sleep helps to wash some of my woes away. I have not given up—will not be defeated by Caleb's nay-saying. He's just being a bully, trying to tear me down since he sees that I've finally gotten some self-confidence. This is exactly why I didn't want to have anything to do with anyone from my past, because they remember me as how I was. They don't see who I've become—the things that I'm capable of.

  I'll show him. Some way, somehow, I'm going to make Peter Burgett mine. I just need to figure out a good starting point.

  Not having friends is weighing on me, even though I've never really had friends before to begin with. When I was back home, I had my sisters, and I never thought that I'd miss them as fiercely as I do right now. A phone call to home just isn't enough. I need physical companionship, and so I bite back my disdain for Becky and ask if she wants to go to the gym with me. For as much as I don't like her, she's an extremely attractive girl and probably does have good advice on how to seduce men. Since Caleb isn't going to help me with Peter, I need every little bit of help that I can get.

  When we arrive at the gym, Caleb is already there. I audibly groan, just wishing he would quit working there or something. Of course, that's not going to happen. If there's one thing I've learned since moving out on my own, it's that the world definitely doesn't revolve around me. Maybe I should consider switching gyms after all. It seems like I'm going to be running into Caleb more than Peter, and I'm not sure I can handle the misery of seeing him every day.

  Becky and I climb onto the treadmills, and I'm actually kind of excited about having some girl talk.

  Becky is absolutely adorable in a tank top and pink shorts that look more like underwear to me. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and she's wearing a cute white headband. Heads turned when we walked into the gym, and they weren't looking at me. It kind of made me hate her a little more, but she's all I've got right now, so I'll have to endure.

  I'm her frumpy sidekick, wearing track shorts and a baggy T-shirt from when I was fat. I hate it when my clothing clings to me with sweat though. And there's no doubt that I'll be sweating soon.

  I open my mouth to start talking about Peter, but Becky pipes in, interrupting me.

  “Beefcake alert!”

  “What?” I look around, expecting that Peter has walked in, though I know he's nowhere near what most women would consider a beefcake. He's more lean and toned from what I could see when he was wearing a muscle shirt the other day. He has nice arms. Deliciously nice arms that I'd love to be wrapped in.

  “Over there.” Becky nods towards the free weight area. I see no one standing over there but Caleb.

  “Where?” I ask again, wondering if I'm missing someone.

  “Five o'clock shadow. Legs like tree trunks. My goodness, Willow, are you blind?”

  It takes me a moment to realize she's talking about Caleb.

  “That guy?” I huff. “He's nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She looks shocked. “If you think he's nothing, then I'd like to see what you think is something.”

  “Peter is something,” I tell her firmly.

  “Yes, Peter is something,” she admits. “But a different kind of something. Peter is refined high-class handsome. That guy, he's all man.”

  “Pfft, all man. More like all asshole.”

  “Assholes are the best in bed,” she muses before realization hits her. “Wait. You know him?”

  “Unfortunately.” I roll my eyes.

  “Oh. My. God.” She grabs my arm, and I look down at where her dainty little fingers are touching me. “You have got to introduce us.”

  “He's all yours,” I tell her, secretly hating that Caleb can get a knockout like Becky without even trying. Why is it so easy for him to find someone, yet I can't even get noticed by the guy I like?

  As it turns out, I don't have to introduce the two of them. Caleb notices me and walks over on his own. For the next ten minutes, it's a flirtfest that makes me want to vomit. Becky is practically throwing herself at him, leaning over the front of her treadmill so that he can see her cleavage, giggling at everything he says. Oddly, Caleb seems completely oblivious. I can't help but wonder if his dick is broken. Wouldn't that be funny...and just desserts.

  As I watch them interact, I feel jealousy bubbling up within me. Not because Becky is talking to Caleb. I could not care less about that. I'm jealous of her confidence. She's making it incredibly obvious that she's interested in him, and not in the bumbling swooning way that I act around Peter. There's a subtle sexuality to Becky that has appeal. I can see why men would go for her. Her voice is high and sweet. Her body is perfect. Her bubbly personality makes her appear adorable. And she dresses like a tempting little sex kitten. I would kill for even an iota of the magic that she has.

  But I realize that I'll never be like her, and as disappointed as that makes me feel, I know I shouldn't let it get me down. Becky never had the struggles that I had. She was likely always pretty and popular—likely always had boys eating out of her hands. Her confidence is from years of being accepted and sought after. I doubt she's ever tasted the sting of rejection.

  My confidence is newfound. Hard worked for. I'm not perfect or gorgeous, but I'm a far better version of who I used to be, and for that reason I love myself more than ever before.

  No, I will never be like Becky. I will always be just Willow. But being Willow gave me qualities that she probably doesn't possess, a deep empathy for those who are struggling. Patience to persevere. Ambition to continue to succeed against all odds. That's who Willow Stroop is.

  Becky can have Caleb. And if she doesn't get him, she'll likely just flit on to someone else because she can. I only want one man. And I'm damned determine to get him.

  3

  Caleb

  Silly girl, I think as I drive home from the gym. Willow's friend was laying it on hard. I'm not interested in girls, though. Only women.

  Oh well, it's nice to be flirted with. Nice to feel desirable.

  I smirk as my eyes land on the fake parking ticket on my dashboard. I don't know about that girl. She seems bound and determined to make my life a living hell.

  Maybe that's going a bit too far. I've had a lot of misfortune the past week, but I doubt that any of it was her fault. When it rains, it pours, and she just happened to arrive when the storm rolled in.

  I still can't believe the apartment staff sent me a warning about Max pooping in the hallway. They've seen me picking up his excrement when I walk him everyday outside. To think that I'd get lazy...

  Briefly, the thought flashes through my mind that maybe Willow was the one who reported me, but I quickly push it away. I doubt she's that vindictive.

  And then my trashcan went missing. Lord knows who would want to take something like that. Probably kids with nothing better to do than cause trouble. It ended up on the other side of the building.

  I reported it missing the next day after I had stepped out of my apartment and saw it wasn't there. It took the complex two days to find it and bring it back to me. I asked them if they'd deduct the two days from my valet service charges, but they said it wasn't their fault it disappeared. I suppose that's fair. Still, it was an inconvenience.

  Then there was the allergic reaction to Willow's cookies. I have no idea what she put in them, but I didn't have the heart to blame that on her. How could she have known my food allergies. At least she was there to take me to the hospital.

  I don't know why she baked me cookies if she's pretending to hate me so damn much. Probably because she wanted me to remember who she was. That's the only logical explanation.

  I feel kind of bad that I didn't recognize her when we first met, but she's turned into such a hottie. How was I supposed to know that she was the same two-hundred pound girl from high school. Everything about her has changed. Her face, her boobs...and apparently her personality, too. She used to be so sweet. Now...

  Oh well, people change. Some
for the better and some for the worst.

  Thinking about all of my recent misfortune makes me miss home. Adulting is hard. I miss the good old days where I didn't have to worry about making money. The days when my dog could shit in our backyard and I wouldn't get yelled at if I forgot to clean it up once. The days when I didn't have to worry about getting sick because my mom was always there to take care of me.

  Living nearly six hours away from my family, I don't get to see them often anymore. We're so spread out now. I moved to San Antonio. My older brother moved to Houston. And my parents stayed in Marfa. Even though I said I'd visit often, we pretty much only get together on the holidays. I've made friends here, but I still feel lonely a lot of the time.

  I sit on the sofa in my living room and call my mom, happy to hear the sound of her voice. It's such a comforting thing during these rough times. Knowing that she's there for me, no matter how far away, gives me the strength to go on.

  “How have you been, honey?” she asks, and we get into a long conversation about what's been going on in our lives.

  Mom says she hasn't heard much from my brother, but to be honest, I probably talk to him more than she does. My father is still running his custom auto parts business, which is where all of our money comes from. He's still disappointed that neither my brother or I are much into cars. He wanted to pass the business down to one of us, but my passion is fitness, and my brother is a lawyer. Sometimes, I feel bad that I didn't take more interest in cars, but you can't force your passion onto someone else.

  “You'll never guess who lives next door to me now,” I tell my mom once we've run out of other things to talk about.

  “Who?” she sounds genuinely interested.

  “Willow Stroop.”

  “Who?” There's confusion on the other end of the line.

  “That girl I introduced you to on Parent's Day that one time. The chubby one.”

  “Oh, that girl.” Recognition hits her. “The one who lived in the trailer park. The one whose mother is crazy.”

  “Yeah. That one.” I feel kind of bad that that's how Willow is remembered, but everyone in town talked about her crazy mother. That one was one blink away from the looney bin. I remember running into Willow and her mom and siblings at the grocery store one time, and she had a twenty-minute conversation with my mom about how she could walk through walls. We all looked at her like she was insane, but the woman just wouldn't get the hint, and she wouldn't shut up. Even back then, I wondered why Willow's mother hadn't been committed yet and how she was even seen fit to raise children.

  “Wow,” her voice is full of surprise. “I thought that girl had killed herself.”

  “What?” My mouth drops open.

  “Yeah. You didn't hear? I guess you wouldn't have. You were gone by then. But shortly after you left, she was hospitalized for slitting her wrists. I heard she didn't make it. Of course, your father and I were doing a lot of traveling then since both of you boys had just flown the nest, so I didn't really get a chance to follow up on the rumor. By the time we got back, I had forgotten about it, to be honest. So I had just assumed they had had the funeral.”

  I can't seem to recover from the news. There's a deep pit of sorrow in my heart that makes me feel even guiltier for the incident in high school when Willow had been listening in on Alvin and I. I can't help but feel responsible. She had told me that it had affected her, but she hadn't told me that.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  “Caleb?”

  “Yeah. Mom, I need to go.” I'm too distracted by my thoughts to talk to her anymore.

  “Alright. Well, I love you, sweetie. Come visit us soon.”

  “I will. I love you, too, Mom.” I hang up and drop the phone to my side, leaning back against the sofa and just staring out into space.

  My thoughtless actions almost caused a life. Not just any life, but the life of a wonderful innocent person. She was never cruel to anyone.

  Why did I have to be so selfish and care about saving face? It wouldn't have hurt me to tell Alvin to stop talking badly about Willow. I just wasn't thinking at the time. The conversation was of little significance to me.

  I had known that Willow liked me. Hell, I had noticed that she practically stalked me. I didn't mind though. The world rejected her; I heard the nasty things that people said about her. But I refused to be like them. I wanted to rise up and be a decent human being. To protect her when I could because no one else would. She didn't have any brothers to look after her.

  I guess the one time it really mattered, I fell short. And this was the consequence. She had tried to kill herself. Maybe it wasn't directly because of me, but I know in my heart that I had something to do with it.

  Shit. How can I live with myself knowing that?

  I tear my hands through my hair, thinking about the beautiful girl in the apartment across from mine. She's probably sitting in her living room watching television daydreaming about her happily ever after.

  A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts. I stand to go answer it, stuck in the past.

  When I open the door, I'm surprised to see Willow standing there with a pot in her hand. Max rushes to my side, and I have to block the door to keep him from getting out. He's my furry best friend, but he's also a pain in the ass sometimes.

  “Hey,” I greet her weakly.

  “Hey.” She gives me a cautious look. “I just brought over these soup bones for Max. I was going to throw them away, but I thought he might enjoy them.” She offers me a soft smile. It takes some of the sadness out of my mood.

  “Max, get back.” I push him away with my foot before opening the door for her. “Come in.”

  Willow squeezes in, placing the pot on my stove. I look her up and down, thinking about how much she's changed. She's still wearing her baggy gym clothes, but I can see how beautifully she's slimmed down. Her dark hair is in a high ponytail, and there are frizzies sticking out everywhere. It's kind of adorable that she's so comfortable around me that she doesn't care how she looks. This is the real her. Not the her that Peter and the rest of the world sees. This is who Willow is on her own time. And no matter how hard she tries to show me that she's turned into a bitch, her kind actions speak otherwise.

  She didn't have to come over here. She could have thrown the soup bones away without a second thought. She could have not considered Max at all.

  “Did you really try to kill yourself?” the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. I have to know the answer though.

  Willow visibly tenses. She turns her head but doesn't look at me. “Yes. Who told you?”

  “My mom.” I lean against the island. “You left that out of your story the other day.”

  “It wasn't important,” her voice is sullen.

  “It is important...to me.”

  She turns to me finally, tears glistening in her eyes. I want to reach out and pull her into my arms, but I know she doesn't want that. She'd probably rather kick me in the balls than be held by me, and I kind of can't blame her.

  “Do you want the whole truth?”

  Max licks at her fingers, and I nod.

  “It wasn't just one time.” She drops her gaze to Max, running her fingers through his soft fur. He's so damn stupid that he doesn't seem to notice the change in atmosphere. He just continues to nuzzle against her like having a new person around is the best thing in the world. I want to shoo him into the bedroom, but I can only imagine that she's taking some comfort from him being there.

  “The first time was right after high school,” she continues. “I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to know that you had gotten to me so badly.”

  A spike is shoved through my heart from her acknowledgment that I was part of the reason she tried to kill herself.

  “You don't know how deeply I regret that.” I press my eyes closed, my tone full of all of the remorse that I feel inside.

  “Well.” Willow wipes her face with the back of her hand. “If you seriou
sly regret it, then you'll help me get together with Peter.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. When I look at her, there's a mischievous grin on her face. This girl just won't give up. But at least she's not dwelling on the past.

  “Why him?” I shift my weight.

  “Because I've never dated someone that I've actually wanted to be with before. I always just...settled for whoever asked me out in the past because I felt like I had no other options.” She shrugs, returning her attention to Max. “I want to be happy for once. No, I deserve to be happy for once. I deserve to marry a man that I'm attracted to.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her. “You seem kind of obsessed with this marriage thing. I think you should focus on just dating first.”

  “Isn't that the point of dating, to eventually get married?” She gives me a quizzical look.

  “It depends on who you ask.” I rub the back of my neck, thinking about how strange she is. Most people our age aren't even concerned about getting married.

  Willow frowns. “I've never had anyone good in my life, Caleb. No true friends. Even my parents weren't there for me most of the time. I want someone who isn't going to go away so that I won't have to be lonely anymore.”

  “Everyone is lonely, Willow. Even married people.” I want to shake her into reality, to help her realize that getting married isn't going to solve all of her problems.

  “I don't expect you to understand.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “You've never really been alone. Not like I have. If you wanted to date someone, there was never anything standing in your way. You've always been attractive. You come from a stable, wealthy family and have a good background. Finding someone to spend forever with is of no consequence to you. When you're ready, you'll go up to the girl that you like, you'll date, and then you'll have your happily ever after. There probably won't be any hitches. You won't fumble around. You'll date a bunch of people before you find your one true love because you can, because you know you have options.