Sweet Destruction

by Paige Weaver

  Bentley’s smile grew. “Yeah. Is it working?”

  Lukas took a step toward Bentley, making me think I would have to break up a fight any second. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Bentley shrugged, his smile gone. “I’m not much for waiting.”

  “And I’m not much for threats,” Lukas retorted, backing up into the hallway. He held out his hands, palms up, as if to say, ‘Come and get me. I dare you.’

  Bentley tossed the washcloth in the sink and shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Stupid kid.”

  “I think both of you need to settle down,” I said, deciding I had enough of their caveman attitudes.

  Lukas gaze drifted over to me. “You know what, Sam? I’ll just catch you later. I suddenly don’t feel like hanging out anymore.”

  “Sure,” I retorted, frowning. “Later. But I might be in jail for killing Bent. I’ll let you know.”

  Lukas disappeared down the hallway without another word. Another boyfriend Bentley chased away.

  I stood in the dark hallway until I heard the front door close. As soon as it did, I laid into Bentley. “What the hell was that about, Bent? You can’t pull that shit with me and you know it!”

  Bentley sighed and circled around me, taking long strides to his room. “I don’t have time for this and neither do you, sis. We’ve got to pack,” he said over his shoulder.

  I followed him, stopping in his bedroom doorway. “Why do I need to pack?” I asked, my voice raising an octave as panic set in. Was he in that much trouble that we had to leave?

  He went straight to his closet and started yanking clothes off the rack. One by one he tossed them toward the bed. In seconds, a pile of shirts and jeans covered his mattress.

  “We’re moving out,” he said as he threw the last pair of jeans on the bed.

  “What?”

  “We’re moving out. Walker got us an apartment. A two-bedroom. It was all we could afford right now but it’ll do.”

  All the blood left my face. Share an apartment with Walker? Had that punch to Bentley’s head damaged his brain? There was no way on God’s green earth I was going to live with Cole Walker. Pigs would fly before that happened.

  “No … No,” I sputtered, almost speechless with the thought of sharing the same space day in and day out with that…

  “NO!” I said loudly.

  Bentley yanked the corners of his sheets out from under the mattress and tossed them on top of all his clothes, creating a sort of bag. He tied the ends, forming a giant bundle around his meager belongings. Heaving it on his shoulder, he crossed the tiny bedroom and stopped in front of me.

  “Walker’s making decent money with the construction crew, and I just got a damn fine promotion. We can make ends meet, Sam. We both want out of here and Walker has the place. You’re going with us.”

  “No,” I repeated, moving out of the way when he pushed past me with his makeshift suitcase.

  “Go pack, Sam,” Bentley said over his shoulder, walking down the hallway.

  “I’m not going,” I shouted, following him into the dark living room and to the front door. The TV still flickered, sending light through the empty room and reminding me of the sad conditions I lived in. Holes in the ceiling and spotty electricity didn’t matter; this was my home. As much as I detested the place, it was familiar. I knew no other type of life except the gloomy one inside the small trailer. The idea of leaving it was terrifying.

  “It’s not a choice,” Bentley said, opening the screen door leading outside. “I’m not asking you to go with us, I’m telling you. You’re moving out, Sam. Tonight.”

  I followed him outside, hopping down the porch steps and staying right on his heels. “And what about Mom?” I asked.

  “What about her? She’s never home. And when she is, she’s as high as a kite or drunk as a skunk. I’m not leaving you alone with her. It’s only a matter of time until she OD’s or drinks herself to death. You want to be around to watch it happen?”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t imagine my mom dying. Not now. Not ever.

  “Well, I’m not leaving her. She needs me,” I said stubbornly, watching as Bentley threw his bundle of clothes in the trunk of his suped-up Nissan. I knew it was a lie – my mama didn’t need me - but deep down I liked to believe it was true.

  Bentley sighed and turned to face me, resting a hip against the side of his car. “You really gonna pull that bullshit on me, Sam? We both know that Mom can take care of herself. If she can’t … hell, she can get one of her men to.”

  I swatted at a June bug and eyed Bentley carefully under the moonlight. “Does this have anything to do with those bruises on your face and the money that you owe? Is that why you want to load us up and move?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Bentley admitted, watching an old, rusted Trans Am drive by. “But I’m leaving and so are you.”

  Without another word, he headed back to the house. I felt dismay. He couldn’t leave me. For nineteen years, it had been him and me, fighting against the world. Surviving together. Depending on each other. I needed him like I needed water, air, and food. He was the only family I had, really.

  A choking feeling started in my throat. Tightness wrapped around my chest. The heat of the night pressed down on me, weighing on me like Bentley’s words.

  “Bentley,” I said in a hushed tone full of hurt. I didn’t say Bent, the nickname Walker bestowed on him. This conversation deserved seriousness.

  He stopped at the bottom step of the porch, keeping his back to me. I saw his shoulders drop. Somewhere a dog barked. A car door slammed. Off in the distance, the sound of highway filled the night, followed by a police siren. Normal sounds. Sounds that told me I was home.

  “I can’t go. I can’t live with him,” I whispered, staring at his back.

  Bentley turned around slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. “I would ask what the hell is going on between you and Walker but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that we always stick together, Sam, you know that. You, Walker, and me. It’s been that way for years. Why change it now?”

  I shifted to my other foot, uncomfortable admitting out loud how much Walker bothered me. So I went with my second reason for not leaving.

  “I can’t leave Mom, Bentley. She already had one person walk out on her, now we’re going to leave also?”

  When he didn’t say anything, I stood my ground even more determined.

  “I can’t, I just can’t leave. I don’t care what you think – Mom needs me,” I said.

  Bentley stepped off the porch, coming to stand in front of me. I could already tell that his mind was made up and there was no changing it.

  He was leaving.

  “And who is going to take care of you?” he asked quietly. “Who is going to make sure you’re okay?”

  I shrugged, feeling a tightness in my chest, threatening to squeeze my heart until it burst.

  “I can take care of myself,” I said with more strength than I felt.

  Bentley sighed. “Whatever. If you change your mind, call me and I’ll come pick you up. You need anything – day or night – let me or Walker know and we’ll be here as soon as we can. Understand?”

  I nodded, feeling alone already.

  Without another word, he started up the porch steps. He was almost to the front door when a thought popped into my mind.

  “Did Walker know you wanted me to move in too?” I asked.

  With a hand on the door handle, Bentley glanced down at me, standing at the top of the porch. “Hell, Sam, it was his idea.”

  Chapter Ten

  -Walker-

  I took a long drink of beer and watched as people milled around the room, talking loudly above the music or dancing close in the corners. Some of them I knew and some I didn’t. But it wasn’t my house so I really didn’t care who was here or who wasn’t. When these kinds of parties happened everyone showed up, invited or not.

  I was one of the invited ones but that wasn�
�t important. The only thing that was important was the free beer in my hand and the hot pieces of ass that were here. Nothing else mattered.

  At least until she walked in.

  I was down to my last sip of beer when the door opened. A cold, stiff wind blew in, giving just a second of relief in the stifling house. The room I was in was dark, only two lamps on. I had thought it was pretty cheesy when I first got here but now I was glad. The low light hid me from the one person I didn’t want to see.

  Sam.

  She walked in looking … hell, she looked delicious. She was wearing another one of those short shirtdresses, the kind that looked like she robbed some man’s closet. I thought it was sexy as hell and apparently so did the other men in the room. They turned to look at her, glancing down her long legs to the black lace-up boots she wore. So typical Sam – a dress with combat-style boots. I scoffed, my eyes running over her slowly. The knowledge that she didn’t care what anyone thought, especially me, only made me horny as hell.

  But just like always, seeing her made my blood boil. All the words we had ever exchanged, all the friction between us, came back to haunt me just by being in the same room with her. We were both fucked up on our own, but together we were a ticking time bomb. I knew it and so did she. That’s why we stayed clear of each other.

  But maybe tonight it was time to change that.

  I rubbed a sweaty palm down the legs of my jeans, itching to jump up and cover her as men continued to stare. The thought almost made me laugh. Sam knew what she did to guys; she was her mother’s daughter after all. I had seen her flirt and tease a man until he was just a pool of messed-up hormones. Poor bastards.

  The problem was it was only a matter of time before one of those shit-for-brains bastards got tired of her teasing and made her pay. I told myself that I didn’t care - I wasn’t her babysitter - but if any man touched her or hurt her in any way, I knew I would be in jail. Murder in the first degree.

  I hated that I felt that way. Who was I to care for her? I was a lowlife with no future. If I was one of those mushy, psychology mind-fucking guys, I might think the hatred between Sam and I stemmed from the unanswered desire between us. Maybe even from my love of her. But I didn’t buy into that psychobabble.

  And I sure as hell didn’t love her.

  I finished off the beer and watched her from my dark corner. When she turned and her tight ass faced me, my dick grew hard. Harder than I wanted to admit. I shifted in my seat, my jeans suddenly uncomfortable. I wanted another cold beer, something in my hand. Anything to wash away this feeling that I knew wasn’t right.

  I glanced around, looking for a distraction. There were plenty of girls here and I figured I could have my pick but they didn’t hold my attention for very long. They didn’t challenge me. They didn’t drive me crazy with anger and emotions that bordered on the obsessive.

  My eyes went back to Sam. I watched as she turned, smiling at someone behind her. That damned lip ring in her lower lip teased me as her mouth curved upward. It drove me fucking nuts when I thought about biting it between my teeth.

  I scoffed, thinking the idea was ridiculous. Wanting her and doing something about it were two totally different things. I thought she was beyond fuckable but even if we didn’t hate each other, she was Bent’s little sister. I wasn’t going there. Hell would freeze over first.

  I gripped the beer bottle tighter, wanting to shatter the thing with my fist. She was holding hands with someone, leading him into the house. I felt my muscles bunch and rage burn though me. I wasn’t prone to violence much anymore but suddenly I wanted to break something.

  The crowd parted and I saw who Sam was with. Lukas. He was behind her, holding her hand like she was his. I eyed him, seeing the competition but telling myself I was just looking out for Sam. Just like I had always done no matter how much she hated me.

  I watched them until they disappeared into the kitchen. I waited for that out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing to kick in but it never did. The image of her in that little dress was burned into my brain. I rubbed a hand over my lower jaw, fighting the urge for another beer, resisting the need to go after her. I told myself I just wanted to make sure she was okay but I knew that was a load of crap.

  I wanted revenge in the worse kind of way.

  Her words from the other night rang in my alcohol-soaked brain. She thought she had gained the upper hand, saying the things she said. Telling everyone I wanted her. Well, it was my turn. She was about to find out how losing to me felt.

  I rose to my feet, at least a head taller than most of the people in the room. The crowd parted for me as I pushed my way though. The kitchen doorway beckoned me, promising to lead me to what I wanted.

  It was time for payback and I was about to collect in the best kind of way.

  Chapter Eleven

  -Sam-

  Lukas swore he’d been invited to this party but I was beginning to doubt it. People were giving us looks. The kind that were meant to threaten and intimidate. So far it was working.

  I kept a tight hold on his hand, feeling out of place. We were in Lukas’s neighborhood, an upper-class area that boasted nice-sized homes with perfect yards. The kids crowded into this modern two-story looked like yuppies with too much of Mama and Daddy’s money stuffed into their pockets. I didn’t belong here, but then again I really didn’t know where I belonged. My own neighborhood didn’t seem like home but neither did this subdivision with its trash-free streets and fancy landscaped lawns. It seemed too perfect and quiet to be real.

  “Lukas, are you sure you know these people?” I asked him for the millionth time.

  He swung his black hair out of his eyes and nodded toward some guy standing over in a corner. “Yeah, Sid invited me. He’s Kace’s cousin.”

  I ran through the connection in my head. Kace was the drummer in Lukas’s band. I didn’t know him that well but he was a badass on the drums. He seemed to be a real ladies’ man but that didn’t matter; the guy could rock the stage.

  “Let’s get something to drink,” Lukas said, nodding toward the kitchen doorway. “I need a cold one.”

  I led the way. The house was so crowded I couldn’t see much of the home except for the carpet under my feet. Music blared from somewhere in the house, making the place vibrate with powerful bass. The smell of alcohol and smoke filled the house, making my nose and eyes burn. They were scents I had lived with my whole life. Smells I worried would forever be soaked into my clothing and skin.

  We squeezed our way between two big guys standing guard in the kitchen doorway. They weren’t the kind of guys Lukas usually hung out with. They wore polo shirts that showed off their biceps and cargo shorts that probably cost a small fortune. Lukas tended to hang out with crowds that believed black was the only color that existed and yuppie clothes were for schmucks. I seemed to fit somewhere in the middle.

  The kitchen was full of people, just like the living room. Smoke floated above everyone’s heads, hovering near the ceiling like it was overlooking the party. I headed straight for the kitchen counter, spotting the bottles of water among the alcohol and beer kegs. Some guy who looked like he belonged on a high school wrestling team stood in front of the water bottles, guarding them like they were gold or something.

  “Excuse me, could I get a drink?” I asked, pointing to the bottles behind him.

  He eyed me up and down. “It’ll cost you.”

  “What?” I asked with surprise, shouting over the music.

  He leaned closer, putting his mouth near my ear. It might have scared some girls but not me. The only thing that scared me was the overwhelming smell of alcohol drifting off him.

  “All girls gotta take a shot before they’re allowed any other drink, including water. House rules,” he said above the music.

  “That’s bullshit!” Lukas shouted with outrage from beside me.

  The big guy straightened up to his full height. Six feet, seven inches if I had to guess. “What’ll it be, honey?” he asked, ignoring Luk
as.

  “Whiskey,” I answered. I wasn’t an expert at drinking but I had seen Bentley and Walker drink enough for an army. I knew what I was doing.

  The guy poured some Tennessee whiskey into a small glass and handed it to me. “Bottoms up, babe.”

  Without thinking twice, I lifted the glass to my lips and tossed back the shot. At first the whiskey was smooth going down, almost like silk. Then a cough escaped me. And another. Fire landed in my stomach. My eyes watered. I put the back of my hand over my mouth and tried not to gag.

  Someone started clapping behind me. A slow clap. Once then twice.

  I swung around. Five feet from me stood Walker, looking like the menace he was. His black shirt and jeans fit his body perfectly, adding to his dark appearance. His hair looked flawless, not one strand out of place. The silky blackness was the color of sin. The image of sexuality. The shade of desire. His dark eyes watched me with detachment and boredom. There was not one shred of feeling in them.

  Or him.

  “Shit,” Lukas muttered under his breath, putting into words what I’d only thought.

  The corner of Walker’s mouth twitched up in the beginning of a smile, but then it disappeared like it had only been a figment of my imagination. He didn’t glance at Lukas but kept those devil-may-care eyes on me.

  “What are you doing here, Walker?” I asked, unafraid of him.

  “Watching you.”

  Oh, shit. I never expected those words.

  He walked closer, his stride slow, his hips rolling with each step. His eyes stayed on me, watching me like I was his target. He had his enemy in his sights. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger.

  I turned away, ignoring him. They say never turn your back on your enemy but, damn, I had to. Where my mind was going was dangerous. Reckless. Somewhere I didn’t want it to go. I couldn’t look at him. It made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. Confused. Flustered. Nervous and edgy. I didn’t like it. I wasn’t one of those boy-crazy, drama queens that stood around giggling because some hot guy talked to them. I had no patience for that and I had no patience for Walker or the feelings he invoked in me.