“I don’t know where he is,” he hedges.
“But…?”
“But this time of year, he always goes a little…quiet.” He’s being intentionally cryptic, and what started out as mild concern is quickly morphing into full-blown panic.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you should talk to him,” he says curtly, but his tone also has a hint of softness. I get the feeling that he wants to tell me, but his loyalty to Dare won’t allow it.
Just when I’m about to go check his spot in the pine trees, I hear the back door open. Three sets of eyes snap to the back room in time to see Dare staggering inside, leaving the door open behind him.
“Fuck,” Cord mutters under his breath.
“Is he…drunk?” I wonder out loud, as my heart starts hammering in my chest.
My phone rings, and I’m about to throw the damn thing against the wall when I see Private Caller. Again. I quickly answer, too angry to keep letting this go on. “Don’t fucking call me again or I’m filing a restraining order on you like I should’ve done months ago.” I hang up the phone, in a hurry to get to Dare, but it buzzes in my hand with a text a second later.
Eric: A piece of paper isn’t going to keep me away from you.
I shove my phone into my back pocket, too worried about Dare to wonder if Eric’s threats are empty. Cordell seems to be on the phone, whispering quietly to someone. Matty gives me a nod of encouragement before he follows me to the back of the shop. He stops in the doorway, letting me know he’s there if I need him, but I’m not worried about me.
I find Dare in the drawing room, sitting at his desk, disheveled black hair has fallen in front of his eyes. “Is my client here?” His voice sounds like he’s swallowed glass, and he smells like whiskey.
“You missed all your appointments,” I say softly, and some instinct has me walking toward him as if I’m approaching a wild animal. “Where were you?”
He finally looks up at me, his icy eyes bloodshot and broken as he gives me a cold, dead stare. “You should leave.”
My throat feels thick and my stomach rolls at his words.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, afraid to hear his answer.
I move closer, but I pause when he yells, “Just go home, Logan!”
I stand, frozen in a mixture of shock and sadness, but something in the back of my mind whispers that I knew this would happen. I knew it was too good to be true. I just don’t know why.
“We both knew this wasn’t going to last,” he says, echoing my thoughts, his voice lower but no less detached.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I guess we did. But you’re clearly fucked up, and I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” Dare has employed me, protected me, sheltered me, and loved me even when I fought it. Even if this is the end for us, I’m not walking away from him.
I grab the first aid kit off the supply shelf behind me before walking over to where Dare sits, dropping to my knees in front of him. His knuckles are bloody and appear to have pieces of bark protruding from the torn skin. He doesn’t object when I take his hand in mine.
“So you were in the woods,” I say, more to myself, as I pull the splinters of bark out and clean the cuts with an antiseptic wipe. His elbows rest on his knees, hands hanging down as I work. He doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t even look at me.
Once I finish, I sit with my palms on top of my thighs, waiting for him to say something—anything. I can’t see his eyes with the way his hair falls in front of them, and I have the urge to brush the inky black strands away. Using one finger, I do just that, and his scowl deepens, eyes clenching shut, almost as if my touch causes him physical pain.
“What happened to you?” I try once more. Yesterday, I had a boyfriend who would move mountains for me. Who couldn’t keep his hands off me. Today, he doesn’t even want me near him.
Dare stands abruptly, his chair rolling into the wall behind him, then storms out of the drawing room without a word. I stand and walk back into the main room. Cord has Dare by the shoulders, trying to get him to focus on what he’s saying, and I’m surprised to see Asher and Camden, Cordell’s brother, coming toward me.
“Give me a few. I’m going to take him next door. Get some coffee into his drunk ass and see if I can figure out what the fuck is going on,” Asher says, his tone brusque.
I nod, sliding my hands into my front pockets. Camden gives my shoulder a squeeze with his tattooed hand.
“He’ll be all right,” he says knowingly. “We all have our shit. Believe me, this has been a long time coming.”
Asher seems to be about as confused as I am, throwing a questioning look at Camden.
“I’ll be here,” I say, biting the tip of my thumbnail.
Cord, Camden, Asher, and Dare all head out, leaving me with Matty. Dare looks over his shoulder at me, and the tormented look in his eyes crushes me. How do you fix someone when they won’t tell you what’s broken? As soon as they’re out the door, I cover my face with my hands, and Matty pulls me into his arms. I let him hug me for a minute before stepping away. I don’t want to cry right now.
I pace back and forth by the cork board on the wall, full of flyers and pictures—including the ones of Dare and I from Halloween—for what seems like hours. In reality, only twenty minutes have passed. Done with waiting, I decide to go check on Dare.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Matty as I push open the door. I’m halfway between Bad Intentions and Blackbear when I hear my name called from somewhere to the right. I look over to find Eric prowling toward me.
“Not now.” I sigh, unable to deal with any more drama.
“Hear me out,” he says, pulling out a manila folder. I’m skeptical, but for some reason, I don’t walk away like I know I should. Somehow, I know that whatever is in his hands is about to change everything.
“I told you to stay away from me.”
“I just thought you should know the kind of scum you’re shacking up with.”
“I don’t care what you think you know,” I seethe, getting into his space. I’m so sick of Eric fucking with my life. “Dare is a good person, which is more than I can say of you.”
“Highly doubt that, considering he’s a murderer.” Eric chuckles darkly, opening the folder. He holds it out in front of me, and I snatch it from his hands. There are several articles in here, but on the first page, I see a headline in bold letters with a picture of a young Dare below.
Teen suspected of killing foster brother.
I slowly turn my head toward Blackbear, my eyes finding Dare almost instantly. As if he senses me, he looks up and we lock eyes. The folder slips out of my grasp, papers fluttering to the sidewalk around me. Dare’s eyes widen, and when they land on Eric, they narrow into slits.
I don’t believe it. Not for a second. Not even with the murderous expression on his face right now.
“It’s amazing what you can find on the internet,” Eric says smugly. I’m still looking at Dare as he stands when something inside me snaps. I curl my fingers into a fist and launch it into the side of Eric’s face. Shock replaces his cocky smile.
“Fuck you, Eric.”
Eric’s hand darts out, wrapping around my throat, and then I’m slammed against the wall behind me, only my tiptoes touching the ground.
“Your boyfriends aren’t here to help you this time, Logan,” he taunts, and I swing my foot forward to kick him in the balls. He jumps away, but not fast enough.
“Fuck!” he screams, and then his fist is coming straight for my face. My head cracks against the wall behind me, and I feel dazed for a few seconds before the pain sets in, causing me to cry out.
“Look what you made me do!” he yells back, and from the corner of my eye I see the door to Blackbear open, then Eric is gone. I sink down the wall, but Dare scoops me up, holding me in his arms as Cordell, Camden, and Asher pin Eric to the pavement.
“Lo, are you okay?” Dare asks, tipping my chin up. My face feels wet, and I b
ring my hand to my nose only to realize it’s blood. That son of a bitch.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I say again, this time firmer. It hurts, but I’m more angry than anything.
“Cord!” Dare yells and Cordell, not needing further instruction, walks away from Eric and over to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Dare moves toward Eric and sends a boot into his side. Eric jerks and moans, bringing his knees to his chest.
“Dare!” I yell. It’s not worth it. Eric is not worth it.
“Take her inside,” Dare orders, pointing a finger at me.
“Come on, Lo. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Cord says, guiding me inside.
“Cord, no,” I say, digging in my heels.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “Asher won’t let him go too far.”
Reluctantly, I let him guide me away. Once inside, Matty walks out of the bathroom, his eyes bulging.
“The fuck!” he yells, jaw hardening as he marches toward me.
“The suit is back,” Cordell informs him.
“I should’ve gone with you.” Matty says, guilt painting his features.
“It’s a bloody nose, Matty. I’m not dying.” I try to laugh to make him feel better, but it sounds fake to my own ears.
I make my way over to the clean myself up in bathroom, ignoring the pain in my throat and face, but the door dings, and I whip around. Only it’s not Dare. It’s Jake. And he has one of the crumpled articles in his hands.
“Cops are here,” he says, and I rush toward the front, but Jake blocks my way.
“Jake, move,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I just need to say something.” His eyes are pleading with me.
I don’t respond, and he takes it as permission to continue.
“I’m not Dare’s biggest fan. In fact, I’ve spent a lot of years hating him.”
“Yeah, I’d say that was pretty clear,” I deadpan, trying to move past him, but he blocks me again.
“But this?” He holds up the article covered in shoeprints. “This isn’t how it went down. His foster brother was my best friend, and while I blame him, it was an accident.”
I give him a terse nod. He’s telling me what I already know to be true.
“Anyway, I told the cops that he was defending you.”
“Thanks,” I say, and when I go for the door again, he moves out of the way.
I walk out just in time to see Dare being led toward the flashing blue and red lights down the street in handcuffs and Eric being shoved into the back of a separate car.
I run up to the one handling Dare. “Excuse me, officer?”
“Yes, ma’am?” he asks, turning to face me, his expression morphing from mildly irritated to concerned when he sees the state of me.
“I’d like to press charges.”
* * *
“STEFAN ADAIR,” AN OFFICER CALLS, and I stand, my body feeling like lead as I make my way to the opening of the holding cell I’ve been in for God knows how long.
“You’re being released.”
“About fucking time,” I grunt. My body hurts. I’m hungover. Weak. Tired. But mostly, I need to see Lo. What the fuck must she think of me now? I was close to bailing. Thought about selling the shop to the most recent prospective buyer. Leaving Lo would be easier than losing her. But then Asher got through to me, reminding me of how he almost threw it all away, and when I saw that asshole Eric with her outside Blackbear, I knew I could never turn it off. This girl is a part of me. The one part of me I love.
I sign paperwork, and then I’m handed my belongings. My phone is dead—no surprise there. I decide to walk the mile and a half home, in the snow, hoping like fuck Lo’s there.
When I walk into my house, Jess is awake on the couch, as if he’s waiting for me.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her,” he accuses, not bothering to look at me.
“Where is she?”
“She just fell asleep.”
“I need to talk to her,” I say, hoping Jess doesn’t make this an issue, because I’m really not in the mood right now.
“Fucking fix it,” he says, and I don’t waste another second, running up the steps to our room.
Lo is curled up in a ball on top of the blankets at the foot of our bed. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and faint traces of blood, like she tried to wash it off but lacked the energy to do so.
Not even bothering to kick my boots off, I climb in behind her, tugging her into me. I need to feel her warmth right now. To feel her skin against mine.
“Lo,” I say, my voice a hoarse whisper.
She jolts awake, sitting up in bed.
“It’s okay. It’s just me,” I say.
The confusion in her eyes clears, but it’s replaced with sadness. “Are you okay?” She asks, and I nod. “I don’t know how to help you. To be what you need.”
“You are what I need,” I insist, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t even know what you’re sorry for,” she says, exasperated. “Because you don’t tell me anything.”
“Come here, Lo,” I say, laying back and holding out my arms. She hesitates before letting me wrap them around her. “I’m ready to tell you everything.”
Hazel eyes look up at me, tired yet full of hope. I take a fortifying breath, steeling myself for her reaction.
“When I was sixteen years old, I killed my foster brother.”
Lo doesn’t blink. She stays quiet, her face blank, and I slip into the memory of that day.
“Come on, Dare.” Sarah pouted, outstretched arms covered in her puffy, bright yellow winter coat from her place on the frozen lake. “Dance with me.”
“Get off the ice. It’s not safe,” I warned her. This winter wasn’t as cold as it usually was.
“It’s frozen. We do this all the time,” she argued, spinning around as if she were ice-skating. “Ugh, fine,” she huffed when she realized I wasn’t budging. She trudged through the snow to take her place on the bench next to me.
“I just wanted to see you smile for once,” she admitted, tucking her gloved-hand into mine. I gave her hand a slight squeeze, softening my rejection before pulling it away, causing those blue eyes to dull with sadness. She knew I wasn’t one for physical affection.
I knew she had a crush on me. I also knew this thing between us was a bad idea. She was my foster sister. Her parents were the closest thing I had to family. Her brother, Luke, was one of my good friends, too. He was two years older than me. Soccer superstar. Homecoming king. I was just a fucked-up kid who liked to drink and draw, and sometimes, when the opportunity presented itself, I’d get my dick wet. We had nothing in common, but somehow, we got along.
“You should be in class,” I said, and it was so cold I could see my breath. Typical for the time of year.
“So should you.” She laughed. She insisted on skipping with me today. Sarah never missed a day. I doubt she even had a tardy before today. She packed a thermos of hot chocolate and drove us out to a secluded part of the frozen lake.
“Why are we here?” I asked, trying not to sound too harsh. I cared for Sarah like a sister, or at least I thought I did. I never had anything to compare it to. Sometimes when we made out, I thought I might like her in that way, too. When you grow up without any type of love or affection, it’s hard to differentiate these things. I was starting to realize that there were many types of love, and whatever I had for Sarah, it wasn’t of the romantic variety. Of course, my dick felt differently, but that was just…biology.
“I wanted to ask you something,” she said, her cheeks turning pink either from the cold or embarrassment or both.
“What is it?”
“I want to lose my virginity,” she blurted out, and my eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “God, this sounds so stupid out loud,” she groaned, shaking her head, burying her face in her glove-covered hands.
“I don’t even know what to do with that informatio
n,” I said honestly, pinching the bridge of my nose. Was she saying she wanted to lose her virginity right now? With me? Or was she looking for advice?
“I just figured…I don’t know. I don’t want to lose it to some guy at a party or something. I want it to be with someone I trust. Someone like you.”
“Sarah…” I shake my head. “That’s not a good idea.” Part of me was flattered. Part of me was pissed that she’d do anything to jeopardize things with her family. It’s not like she’s the one with anything to lose, I thought bitterly. No matter what happened, she’d still have parents, a home, a bed…things I’d never had.
I was tempted. If she were any girl other than my foster sister, I’d have already bent her over this bench. Sex is sex. It’s not about love or even like. But it was for Sarah. Plus, I had two more years until I was eighteen. I didn’t want to have to move again if shit went south.
Sarah leaned over, pressing her lips to mine. I let her kiss me, but when she lost her gloves and went for my pants, I swatted her away. She backed down, seemingly content to make out instead. When she reached for my dick again, it was harder to push her away. No pun intended.
“This doesn’t make me your boyfriend,” I said right as she palmed me through my jeans.
“Who asked you to be my boyfriend? It’s practice.”
I had mixed feelings. On one hand, it felt different with Sarah. Wrong. “Sarah, no,” I said, trying to let her down easily, knowing how sensitive she could be.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” the voice I knew to be Luke’s growled from a few feet behind us.
“What are you doing here?” Sarah squealed, her hand jerking from my lap, looking like she wanted to disappear.
“What am I doing here?” he asked, incredulous. “I’m looking for you. The school called Mom. She and dad are both out looking for you right now. Saw your car and thought something happened to you. What the hell were you thinking?”
“She skipped school. She didn’t rob a bank. Give the girl a break,” I said as I stood to face him. His eyes zeroed in on my crotch and I looked down, noticing for the first time that Sarah had managed to get my fly down.
Bad Intentions (Bad Love) Page 22