Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7)

by Allison White

  “Get her to leave before I slit her throat,” she growls, and I stiffen.

  Murder?

  “Red?” I say in a low tone, drawing back slightly. She looks into my eyes and pleads. Tears well up in her eyes, and I say, despite my gut telling me to shut up, “I’ll see you around, Beth.” Red looks taken aback but doesn’t comment.

  “Seriously, Noah? But she—” Beth exclaims.

  “Beth.” My tone is firm, and so is my glance. Her overly glossed lips pout, and she looks between Red and me before grunting loudly and stomping away on her high heels. I listen to her cursing louder and shouting like a madwoman before the sounds of the party drown her out, and I step away from Red.

  “Thank God.” She lets out a heavy breath. “Thought she’d never leave. This is why girls shouldn’t wear clothes that tight, shuts off the blood flow to their heads.”

  “Don’t do that.” I shake my head.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Make fun of her.”

  She chuckles. “The girl’s a joke! Which makes me wonder about your taste in girls. If the bar’s really set that low, then man, did I do you a favor—”

  “You don’t get to speak about her or anyone I decide to spend my time with!” I snap unintentionally, and she clamps her mouth shut, staring up at me, shocked. “You don’t get to be upset that we were kissing, either. You made sure of that the second you fled and didn’t respond to me any of the times I reached out to you. I was worried about you, and you just left me on the back burner like I was a used piece of trash. And according to you, I meant nothing, nor will I ever mean anything to you.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can make out with some skank on my fucking car!” She waves her hands around wildly. Her eyes are wild, bluer than ever, and wide like the moon hanging above our heads.

  “But it does, though! I don’t mean anything to you, Red. Would you have had me take her on another car?”

  She’s shaking with anger and words she won’t speak into the world, her teeth bared, hands dripping with more and more blood. I move to take her hand, get her some help, when she moves back and looks away from me. Seriously?

  “Why do you even care?” I ask.

  “I…I don’t…” She turns away from me, eyes downcast.

  Why does she keep turning away from me? Why can’t she meet my eyes?

  “Huh, Red? Why do you care so much about me and another girl? Do you like me now? Or are you just gonna pack your bags and leave at the first signs of feelings?” I duck my head, trying to get her to look at me. But she’s persistent and leans over the hood, hands splayed on it. When they shift to grip her hair, a bloody handprint is left behind.

  “Why are you so silent now, Red? Why are you even remotely pissed? After what you just said, I’m entitled to a good lay. Am I not?” I think I hear her mumble something, but I keep going. “In fact, I’m just gonna go get her back. Do this right—on my bed.” I move to the party, bluffing like hell. A part of me knows she’ll just hurt me again and wishes she’ll let me go, but the other part…the other part’s praying like hell.

  “No!” she shouts and grabs at my jersey. Her once-hard expression has melted completely, like sugar on lava. Tears spill out of her large blue eyes, and I finally see her true self seeping through her leather jacket and piercings. I see Red Sylvetti. And although she cut me into a million pieces with what she said, it’s enough for me.

  “Stay here,” I tell her calmly.

  Her trembling lips move slowly as she asks, “Why?”

  I cup her face, tilt it back, and repeat, “Stay here.” Then I add quietly, “Trust me.”

  Those two words spark a flourish of emotion in her bright blue eyes. They sink into her brain, and she bites her lip, tongue jutting out to play with her lip ring. “Okay,” she murmurs.

  I leave her with a concerned look. I ask the nurse on-call at her little station for a first aid kit. She questions me with a long, suspicious sweep of her eyes, but I lie and tell her my friend got drunk and smashed a beer bottle and is now bleeding like crazy. She sighs like it’s the fourth time it’s happened tonight and hands it to me. I feel bad for lying to her, but I don’t confess. I take it and rush back to the car. I know she isn’t bleeding out or anything, but a surge of protection fills me greatly. I need to make sure she’s okay, the voice whispers. I agree.

  “Hold out your hand,” I command Red when I slide into the car. The door hasn’t even closed yet. When I turn back around after locking it, she’s staring at me. But the minute I look into her eyes, she blushes slightly, tucks hair behind her ear, and sheepishly holds out her hand. The blood makes my stomach rumble. Not because the sight of blood makes me nauseous, but because she’s bleeding in the first place.

  Sucking in a much-needed deep breath, I begin to work. First, I gently wipe her hand with several alcohol wipes. She doesn’t react much, which scares me. There’s something in her dead eyes that makes me uncomfortable for her, makes me want to curl her up in a ball and just comfort her. But I work past it and keep my focus on her hand as I examine it.

  “Luckily, you won’t need stitches,” I tell her.

  She just nods slightly. She’s staring at the center console, or my lap, or nothing at all.

  What is going on in that head of hers?

  “So…murder?” I ask, my voice rough. Her fingers tense around mine.

  “Rumor,” she says, and I look up to find her already staring at me. Black eyeliner is on her cheeks. “I’m not a good person. Done some bad shit, but not murder.” She takes a shaky breath. “People love to assume the very worst about me.”

  Wonder why, my mean-ass conscience sneers. I push him away, lock him in the farthest place in my head, and throw away the key.

  A few minutes pass by as I slowly wrap a bandage around her palm. We’re quiet, and the energy between us has shifted to something more…calm. More manageable. I revel in it as I take my time wrapping the bandage. The seemingly temporary peace between us is sweet, and I don’t want to warp it with us yelling at each other. But I can’t just pretend to be a fool, either.

  “You have blood on your jersey,” she says, the same time I ask, “Did you mean anything before?”

  She pauses, frowning. “No. No, of course not.”

  “Then why say it?” I drop her hand, and she looks hurt, but she looks out the windshield and leans over to her side. When she doesn’t immediately respond, I take off my jersey, leaving me in the plain white t-shirt beneath it. I stare at the blood smearing the blue numbers. She looks over at me tentatively, and I ask, “Why push me away just to get upset when you find me making out with a girl?”

  “Why make out with a girl?” Her tone is harsh.

  “Red,” I reply just as harshly.

  She sighs and nods. “Sorry…”

  Silence wraps around my throat with its sharp claws and squeezes. I stare out the window like she is, let the lack of words surround my sanity and poke, each more infuriating than the last.

  “I hate you a little more each time you leave me…” my voice croaks, and I hear her gasp.

  “No…no you don’t.” Her voice is small, hopeful.

  “You’re right. I don’t.” Tears bleed through my eyes, and as one drops, I continue behind a pathetic little laugh. “But I should, because you hurt me, Red. More than any girl ever has before. And trust me, I know one that I thought ruined me, but you…you’re doing a god damn good job of out-doing her.”

  She stares at me with a horrified expression, like I just backhanded her. “I don’t intend to hurt you. I’ve tried my best not to hurt you, but…” She stops briefly, bats her eyes, and looks away, reconsidering what she was just about to tell me.

  “But what?” I demand.

  Why does she always do that? It’s becoming so frustrating. I just want one straight, truthful sentence out of her. I want a lot of things, I realize, as the things I foolishly want grow. I want her to stop leaving me out of the blue. I want her to like me the
way I stupidly, whole-heartedly, like her. I want her to not be bleeding, crying. I want to wrap her in my arms. And I want to kiss away our problems. Let them blow in the wind like black smoke. Never to poison us ever again.

  But this is reality, and in reality there is pain and the truth.

  She looks at me and her resolve fades, and she’s left with a strong emotion unknown to me as she says, “But I can’t stop myself from doing it. I’m bad for you, Noah. So, so bad. You should just stay away.” She moves to the door, fingers on the handle, but I grab her wrist and stop her. Her brows are furrowed, lips pursed—puzzled. There is no way I’m letting her go without some sort of explanation. She’s hurt me enough that I deserve the right to know everything.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” I tell her, and she sighs.

  “Noah—”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I…” She pauses, as usual.

  “You have to tell me. Please. You owe me that, at least.” My voice breaks like glass, and I wipe away my tears. Fuck. She has me crying after she just humiliated me in front of so many people. How much more can she turn me into putty in her bloody hands?

  She closes her mouth and looks me in the eyes deeply before saying, “I had some business to take care of,” in the vaguest way possible, and I let out a frustrated groan and stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t need to tell you everything I do, Noah. Couple or not. What I do is my business alone.”

  “Even when it can be dangerous?” I look at her.

  Her eyes are hooded. “Especially if it’s dangerous.”

  I cover my face with my palms. This is killing me slowly. “Why do you have to be so damn mysterious all the time, Red?”

  “Why do you have to be so fragile all the time, Noah?” she shoots back. How is she getting upset with me when I’m just frustrated? I have a right to be when she keeps jerking me back and forth constantly!

  I remove my hands and glare at her. “Don’t I get to be? I mean, am I just supposed to take what you said back there with a grain of salt and be at the ready for when you change your mind and want to screw around or something when you get tired of the guys you have already?”

  “Fuck you,” she spits.

  “Wonder what took you so long!” I snap before I could think.

  Her eyes glaze over, and she sits back, stunned. “Wow, Noah. I may be a lot of things, but a slut is not one of them.”

  “Of course you aren’t. I didn’t mean that,” I defend, but she ignores me and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her. “Oh, come on!” I get out swiftly, slamming the door behind me. She’s walking briskly down the lot, headed toward campus. “Red! Come back, I didn’t mean it like that!”

  “Then why’d you say it?” she shouts over her shoulder.

  I chase after her; my long legs easily place me beside her. I swivel around, blocking her, and she halts in my chest. “Because you make me fucking crazy, Red! That’s why! Completely mad! And it just came out.” I pause, glancing over at the raging bonfire. “But can you blame me? For why I’m mad, at least?” She stiffens and crosses her arms, looking away. “You came here with Tanner. But before that, you left me after our moment in the hotel to be with Ian. And Tanner. And—fuck. How else am I supposed to act? Feel?”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “Don’t just stand there. At least tell me why you would say those horrible things to me,” I plead.

  “Because I don’t want to be around you!” she shouts, and I take a step back. “Because I like you too much to understand how in the world someone as sweet and kind as you could possibly want anything to do with me. Because I want you. Because you’re so good and I’d only ruin you. Because I tend to self-destruct every time something feels too right. I make shit wrong. And I’m fucked up. Way, way too fucked up for you. And because…” She covers her face. “Because liking you scares me more than anything in this shitty world,” she mumbles.

  My heart sings and my veins spark with euphoria. She just said everything I’ve wanted to hear for so long. I don’t know how to react, but I watch her slowly shake her head. And then I frown and am confused. Why is she upset when she just told me the truth, what she is feeling? Why, especially when it’s melded me back together after she broke me earlier?

  In her own way, she really does like me. It’s a fucked-up way, believe me…but it’s her way, and she doesn’t mean me any harm. I guess it’ll just take some time getting used to.

  I wrap my hands around her wrists and pull them down.

  “What are you doing? Why aren’t you running away from me?”

  I duck my head and blow out a breath. “Because running away from you scares me more than not giving us a shot. I will run toward you if you just give it…give me a shot.” I look into her eyes, bracing for her to push me away and leave me for another week, or a month, or even a year.

  But she surprises me.

  She nods. “If you promise you won’t sue me if I break your heart again. I don’t have much. Just my bike and my car. And you can’t drive both. You’d look too much like a pussy driving either.”

  I crack a smile at her insult. “Too bad you’re only mentioning suing you now. I could have added a few more million to my billion-dollar trust fund.”

  She playfully wrinkles her nose. “You’re a horrible man, Richie Rich.”

  “And you’re a terrible liar, Rossa,” I say and stare at her lips. “Can I kiss you?”

  “You don’t have to ask, stupid,” she grumbles before pressing her lips on mine. Her kiss is soft and commands my hands to wrap around her, walk us back to her car, and sit her on the hood. It grows more intense with need, and she cradles my face with her small, soft hands, and I melt a little on the inside. Under her leather jacket and face piercings, she is vulnerable and soft and warm and easy to make giggle when I touch her above her waist or make hum when my tongue hits a certain spot inside her mouth.

  And as I kiss her under the blanket of shining stars and judging moon, I think to myself, How the hell did I end up here, and how do I stay forever?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I have to pee,” Red announces.

  I pull away, wrinkling my nose. “I was glad you said something. I thought for a second the blood on your pants was something else,” I joke, and she blushes. She pushes at me playfully, and I laugh.

  “It’s from my hand, weirdo.” She pushes her foot against my thigh, causing me to stumble back. Hopping down from the hood, she tells me, “Stay here and try not to make out with anymore girls on my baby.” Her hip sways into the side of her car, near the trunk.

  I lean against the hood, smirking. “Can’t promise anything. I look too good to keep the ladies away.” I give her a smirk that makes me want to throw up.

  “You’re gross, Noah Wells. Absolutely deplorable.” She pops the trunk and rustles in it for a moment before it closes and she’s holding up a pair of sweatpants. She keeps clothes in her trunk? That’s weird. “Try not to sell yourself as an escort.” With a wink, she stalks away to the party.

  The minute I am left alone in the eerie parking lot, I laugh to myself. I’m not crazy or anything. It’s just…like, half an hour ago we were yelling at each other, and she said the nastiest thing to me. She actually crushed my heart and spat on it. Foolish enough, I made out with a girl on the hood of her car. Later, we fought some more, cried a little bit. And then a few moments later, we’re making out on the hood of her car. To say this girl drives me insane would be a gross understatement.

  I don’t know. When I’m around her, it’s like she fries the wires in my body. Whenever I think of her. Just whenever. Just a mention of her name could send my body into shock, and I think about her smile and the way her eyes light up when I look into them. Little moments and glances and kisses and everything about her rolls into one big ball of infatuation that’s practically sewn into my veins. No matter how hard I try, I don’t think I can shake her.

  I hear footsteps and be
gin to jokingly say, “You’re too late; two girls just tried to jump my bones,” when I look up and find Rachel a foot away. She looks sort of distraught, with her arms crossed over her chest and a frown stitched on her face. “What’s wrong?” I walk over to her, worried and thinking the worst: drunk assholes that get grabby when they have one too many beers.

  She must read my mind because she shakes her head frantically and says, “No, no—God no.” I release a heavy breath and uncurl my fists. “I just saw Red and…” She trails off, her eyes squinting. I can clearly see her trying to put this all together in her large hazel eyes. “Did you guys work things out? Are you actually forgiving her for what she said to you?”

  “How do you know what she said to me?” I ask suspiciously.

  “I may have snuck a little closer,” she says, cheeks flaring. “But I only did that because I care about you, Noah. I care a lot.”

  “And?”

  “And I don’t think it’d be smart to just accept what she says and kiss and make up without even thinking it over,” she says.

  “I get that you care, but what happens between Red and me should stay between her and me,” I tell her earnestly. I appreciate her to no end, but Red is complicated beyond words. She will definitely take some time to get used to, but I can handle her without Rachel advising me against her every time she fucks up. Which, so far, may be more often than I would want, but something in me tells me she’s worth it. And I agree.

  “And I get that, but the girl’s got a terrible temper. Not to mention she literally just broke your heart.” She pauses. “Maybe her blowing up like that was a sign for you to just leave her be. She’s a horrible person; I don’t even know why she took an interest in you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively. “And she isn’t a horrible person. She can be…difficult at times, and so freaking confusing.” I press my fingers to my temples, rubbing. “But she isn’t a bad person.”