Fear of her getting into an accident without a helmet sparks urgency under my ass, and I move to stop her, but she’s already down the street, leaving behind an aching eye and a cloud of dust. Just like that, she’s leaving me. Again. Tears bubble in my eyes, and I wipe them away.
“I can’t believe her,” Rachel says under her breath. Then she reaches up and cups my cheeks, smiling softly. “Let’s get you inside and put an ice pack on your eye. You should really forget about her.” She moves to take my hand, but I yank it away and shake my head.
“No,” I say, voice low, eyes not leaving from down the street.
“What do you mean, no?” she asks around a nervous laugh, reaching for my hand again.
“I mean no. I have somewhere I have to be. I’m sorry.” I turn away from her reaching hand and widened eyes. Her heart seems to be breaking as I race toward the house.
“Wait, Noah! Where are you going?” she shouts after me.
“After my Red!” I yell over my shoulder, on the search for Mike. I need to borrow his truck.
I am not letting her get away that easy. I deserve an explanation and—and it’s more. It’s her crying and looking so broken down. I have never seen her like that before. Ever. And it breaks me down, molecule by molecule. And even though I’m breaking, I need to help her first. Hold her. I need to fucking take care of my girl. No matter how maniacal she’s acting lately.
***
I may love the girl, I think as I park in front of the apartment complex. Or at least I really, really like her to chase after her after she punched me in the freaking face. Which, by the way, hurts like a motherfucker. But I can handle the pain as long as she doesn’t experience hers any longer.
I stare up at the building, hoping it’s the right one. I glance down at the text from Jaimie, one of Liv’s friends I kind of got acquainted with over the summer. She was hesitant but thankfully didn’t act too suspicious. I sit back and rub my uninjured eye, kind of expecting to leave empty handed. I just came from the bar Red supposedly works at here in Pennsylvania, and she wasn’t there. So maybe she’s here…?
The thought makes me sick. And then the visions of her and Grey in his car, laughing and enjoying the music they both love, fills my brain, and I punch the steering wheel. A loud honk resonates through the empty streets, well, apart from the drunk partygoers celebrating Halloween.
“Fuck,” I murmur and pinch the corners of my eyes.
I hope I don’t walk in on them fucking or measuring each other’s leather jackets. Even though I know for a fact he’s deadly in love with Liv and, according to her, has been on his best behavior. But seeing as how he left her too, I think he broke his good record. But who didn’t see that one coming? The guy has a short timer for being a good boy.
Gathering whatever courage I have, I get out of the beat-up pick-up truck, lock it, and walk up to the building. On the way up, I go over sentence starters. I mean, how do you tell a friend her boyfriend and my girl—if I can even call her that—went on a road trip and, when she got back, she punched me in the eye? I don’t think there is a correct way to start that conversation.
But I have no time to think of any because the elevator comes to a stop and Liv’s ranting stops mid-sentence as she flips on the light. I cower back at the bright light and lean against the elevator wall, sighing.
Pointing to the bruise, I say, “Red.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Her mouth parts in shock, and I can practically see the million questions floating in her brain. Like normal. She’s a very inquisitive girl, but she sets them aside and her natural kindness shines through. “Come on, let’s sit you down and ice that,” she suggests, leading me out of the elevator and into their admittedly nice loft apartment. I moan the entire way to the couch, gauging her pursed mouth and curved eyebrows.
“What are you doing here in Pennsylvania?” she asks as she gets up and walks into the kitchen. I watch her open the freezer and, wincing at my now-swelling eye, I answer her.
“I came looking for her.” She still looks confused, so I try to explain a little more clearly. “She works here at some bar a few times a week. Apparently she gets paid good money and is friends with the owner?” I still don’t find the appeal to spend three hours driving out here, when there are jobs in Baltimore, but that’s Red for you—confusing as hell.
“We are talking about Red Red, right?” She walks over to me and hands me a pack of peas before sitting cross-legged. The pack is freezing cold, and I shiver as it meets my skin. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, frightening scowl?” It’s kind of scary how well she just described her. I would have added “incredibly drop-dead gorgeous,” but that’s just me. Thinking about her smile makes me feel like I’m drowning, so I put on a smile and focus on what she said.
I laugh quietly, licking my lips. “Yup. That’s my Red.” But is she really even mine? She’s so afraid to be anything related to me, unless I can rack up a high pain tolerance for an arm tattoo and wear leather jackets like it’s stitched to my brolic, fighter muscles. I let out a hefty sigh, wishing I could change things so I can just kiss her without her jetting to freaking England or something.
Liv’s eyebrows screw together, and I can see her picturing Red and me together and failing. Many, many times. But then she focuses on how we’d be together in the first place, and she gasps. “Are you two dating?”
My cheeks feel extremely hot. “I wouldn’t say ‘dating.’”
“So what would you say?” she teases, and I narrow my eyes at her. Nice to know she can still poke fun at me. She smiles because she’s a cocky shit and knows it.
“It’s something…complicated.” I sigh again and roll my shoulders. Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it. Whatever we have, it’s something more than I’ve ever experienced. Even with Liv. With her, I latched onto our previous friendship over the years, and she was a nice girl. Sure, we weren’t what the universe planned like her and Grey are, but I did grow feelings for her. But with Red…I feel…I don’t know—alive might be the word I’m looking for. But instead of letting whatever needs to happen happen, she pulls back a little each time, and it is the most frustrating thing ever.
“How did you guys meet?” Liv’s sweet voice pulls me out of my overworked brain. I swear, if I even think about what two plus two is, my brain will implode.
My cheeks grow even hotter, and I rub my neck. “Um, bumped into her at a party. She was super rude, but I saved her life a few minutes later, so I’m not complaining. Oh, yeah, we go to the same school.” Of course there’s more to the story, like how each time we interact, even if it is just a glance, I feel my entire being relax and my heart lift just a little. Like, when I am around her, I stop being what my parents want, what my friends expect—I am just…me, and it is okay. God, I miss her and the way she makes me feel like myself.
“Sure…” Liv says, lips trying their best not to curl into an annoying smile. She tries to act neutral and cool, but I can just see the questions and doubts circling her pretty head.
Not as pretty as Red, my subconscious sneers like the little bitch he is.
“And the bruise? Does she…hurt you often?” she asks softly, sucking her full lips in her mouth. Oh, God. How pathetic do I look on the outside that she asks if I’m being abused, using her psychologist-in-training voice? She’s going to make a kid cry in her office one day.
Laughing at the idea, I wave a free hand. “She doesn’t hurt me. If I were in an abusive relationship, I would be dead first. No.” I shake my head and clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably as I recall what I said. Sighing, I explain, “I said a really nasty thing to her because, well, she and Grey have become close, and I just thought the worst when I found out they’ve been…on the road. Which—” I look at her incredulously. “How are you fine with that?” Red and I are barely forming a relationship if she allows it, but Liv and Grey have more history than anyone I know. A very dark, tight-knitted, epic history. They’ve been through hell and back, so I
know she must feel gutted about this.
“I’m not. Keep going.” She smiles forcibly, and my heart hurts for her. She is one of the most caring people I know to ever walk this fucked-up world. No matter what’s going on, she cares about others first before herself.
Brows knitting together, concern swells in my chest. I consider wrapping her up in a blanket and hunting down Grey myself and beating him up for hurting her like this. But she gives me a look of desperation to put the light on me before she bursts into a ball of tears, and I do not want that to happen. I care about her, obviously, but also because I hate seeing others cry. It’s my kryptonite. Which is why witnessing a badass girl like Red break into tears slices me open from the inside out.
“Anyway, she swung the meanest right hook and gave me Ed.” I tap the pack of peas, a gloomy smile tugging on my lips. “My bruise.”
“Ed?” She laughs, blue eyes lighting up like a thunderstorm during a summer day. “Why Ed of all names?”
“Oh, I’m sorry my name-picking abilities aren’t superb right after being punched.” I chuckle and roll my eyes; however, my right eye is swollen, causing her to erupt into this beautiful laugh, head thrown back and everything. She gives me a little push, and I yank at her big toe playfully, wanting to keep her laughing. Light her up. Make her forget asshole-Grey.
“Hey, don’t injure me just because you are,” she shrieks, attempting to pull her foot away, but I grab the whole thing and tickle her.
“If I’m suffering, so are you,” I say with a huge grin. I like having her laughing and not looking depressed because her boyfriend’s a freaking idiot. But then again, I wasn’t exactly having a jolly-great time myself on the way over here after my—whatever the hell she is to me—punched me in the face.
“Tell me more about you and Red.” She sits up, pulling her feet under her to protect from my hands.
“You’re no fun.” I rest my head on the headrest, lips jutted in a pout. Her head follows me, and her smile is too bright for this world, too damn sweet for Grey.
“Shut up and tell me about your Red.”
Your Red…I like that.
I sigh but, in reality, I’m relieved to talk about her. Despite this nasty bruise on my face, the girl is really sweet and easy to talk to. I tell her that and how she loves Nirvana and how we broke into a YMCA to swim. I rant about Ian being a dickhead ninety-nine percent of the time, the time he and I fought…both times. How utterly breathtaking her smile and laugh is. I go on and on about the way my body buzzes whenever she’s near. How she doesn’t talk about her feelings that much, but when she does, she rants, and how her nose scrunches when she does. I talk about…everything, and when I finish, I can’t stop smiling.
“So do you know why they just up and left?” I ask her, calming down from the thought of Red, cheeks burning, eyes most likely dilated. Wow. Imagine how I look when I kiss her…maybe even more. I clear my throat. Focus on my friend who looks so heartbroken as she brings up her knees and fidgets.
“No. I just came home and he was gone…” Her voice breaks and her eyes glaze over as she dives into deep thought. But before she can drown in them, I gently touch her hand and she looks at me.
Smiling at her softly, I say, “You guys will figure it out. You’ve been through hell and back, so I’m sure this is nothing.”
“It’s just…I don’t know. Maybe he's hiding something from me, but that wouldn’t make sense. We’ve been on the straight and narrow for a while. A few bumps here and there, but we were solid as far as I knew. I just wish I didn’t have to worry about what else will get in our way, waiting for the next heartache. I want more than anything for him to come to me for anything. Not leave me and go God knows where with some girl. Sorry, Red,” she adds quickly, blushing.
I wave it off and sigh. “She’ll tell me why she left soon enough. I think. But I think you should find out why he did, ASAP, before things get worse.” And things tend to get worse for this couple.
“If only I could find him, Noah,” she tells me with a sad smile.
I move to hug her when a phone interrupts our moment.
I pull out my phone and shake my head. Nothing. “Not me.”
Holding up a finger, she rushes into the hallway. I saw the look of hope and desperation and relief on her face, and I almost grab her hand and hold her down. She doesn’t need nor should she put up with his bullshit.
Neither should you with Red, my subconscious croons.
“You bastard. You’re not helping, you know,” I talk to myself like the insane person I am. I run my hands over my hair, wishing I had Lucille so I could just smash something. I don’t know what I can do without any information from Liv, like I hoped I could get. And Red’s not answering her phone. Surprise there.
A loud sob makes me freeze. Sitting up quickly, I listen for the sound again. A few seconds pass before a louder sob hits my ears. I burst into the bedroom before I can process it. “Liv, what’s wrong?” I scramble onto the bed, wrapping my lengthy arms around her small body.
“I—I—they found him!” she cries and I frown, not understanding. Until I smell medicine and am staring down at her pale skin in the hospital those months ago. And I understand everything. She sobs into my chest and holds me closer, licking her lips. “They…” She tries to speak, but the words lodge in her throat, and she clutches me like I am her lifeline. Nodding, I rub her back soothingly. Even though I know she wants the love of her life holding her, I don’t say anything and let her cry into my shirt.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In my dream, Red and I are on our way to a Nirvana concert. And I don’t mean a venue that plays Nirvana songs, their music videos and concert diary videos projected on a huge screen in the middle of nowhere, if they even do that for a band that no longer plays gigs. No. We’re genuinely going to a Nirvana concert, sometime in the 1990s. She’s decked out in basically what she wears today: black ripped tee of the band, ripped jeans, messy hair, heavy eyeliner, and flannel. I’m matching her, but I’m wearing a snapback and fake piercings she jammed into my face thirty minutes before.
She’s laughing at my ridiculous outfit and I’m posing ridiculously for pictures, via Polaroid, duh. The night seems to stretch on and on forever. The music is ear-shatteringly loud. My heart stops with each bass that kicks in. She’s dancing like she’s electrocuted. And I’m holding her from behind, swaying to a surprisingly sweet song. And then we’re reckless, grunge teens jumping to one of her favorites: “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Kurt’s screaming, his lengthy blond hair covering his face. I feel infinite and badass and myself, and it’s all because of the beautiful girl dancing under my chin.
And then the world reminds me Grey Wyler exists.
“Wake up, bitch!” I hear him roar and kick the bed.
Groaning, I climb up out of the sheets. I want to rip his stupid boots off his feet and beat him with them. He ripped me out of the most peaceful sleep I think I’ve ever had. I want to go back under the sheets and continue dreaming of Red and me at a Nirvana concert, but I rub my eyes and decide to entertain this raging bull.
“What’s going on?” My voice is deep and I sound so confused, mostly because I am.
“I should be the one asking that!” he yells, and I mentally slap him with his boot. “Did something happen here that I should know about, Liv?” He turns to her, and I honestly contemplate burning his stupid face off. Did he really just accuse her of cheating? With me? I’d laugh if I weren’t so pissed off.
“Answer me!” he screams, and she flinches.
Oh, I’ll answer you all right, I think as I begin to push myself to stand and give him a piece of my mind. And my fist. I’ve become good at it lately. Even if going against a professional fighter would most likely put me in the hospital.
Before I can even move a muscle, Liv jumps up and wobbles, the effects of us drinking wine last night in a celebratory gesture for that maniac being put behind bars. And she does the last thing I’d expect. She slaps him. H
ard. I gasp and look away, trying my best to tune out their personal conflict. But I don’t miss the tears and frustration and pent-up anger in her screaming.
I would pray that this doesn’t happen between Red and me, but I think it’s a little too late for prayer. She already has me wrapped around her little black-painted finger. I’m slowly but surely falling for the girl, and she makes it seem like I’m burdening her. Like she can’t possibly feel the same way about me. When I notice how light she looks and possibly feels when I lay one glance in her direction. Brush my fingers against her cheeks. Say her name.
She likes me. She’s just too afraid to admit it, and it hurts me more than she can possibly understand. More than anyone could understand.
When Liv’s screaming fades away and Grey obviously lies about leaving to clear his head, I tune into the conversation.
“There’s something called yoga,” I recall in a nasty croak.
Being the Grey man he is, he snarls, “Shut the fuck up and get out before I strangle the loafers out of you.” I am so offended; I don’t even wear loafers! I don’t think I ever have!
“Don’t talk to him like that,” Liv snaps and does some weird twist thing with her hands. I try to imitate them, probably looking like a fool. But they’re too wrapped up, angrily eye-fucking each other to notice. “I’m sorry he’s being a major dick right now. He hasn’t taken any of his pills since they’re all in the trash.” She looks over at me. The girl may be small and kinder than Mother Theresa, but she can be a fiery little thing when she chooses. I have my hands tied with Red, enough.
I get up with an exhausted sigh, cracking my neck. “No problem.” I smile dazedly as I walk over to her, completely ignoring the raging lunatic glaring at me. “It was nice having your company, Livvy.” I really did miss her. Last night was a hoot after the whole crying on the bed thing. Playing drunk charades with only two people is a lot more fun than it sounds.
Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7) Page 24