by Vera Hollins
He’s here. He came to see me.
I parked in front of the gate and got out, pressing my lips together so I wouldn’t erupt into a gigantic smile. He didn’t need to see just how happy I was to see him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Not even a ‘hi, how are you?’ or ‘it’s good to see you’?”
I stared at him blankly. “What are you doing here? It’s late, and your house is on the other side of town.”
He sighed and scratched his jaw. “Do you have any beer?”
I slammed a glass onto the porch table and poured Masen a drink. “Here you go. We have only wine.”
“That’s okay.” He knocked back a large swallow.
I raised my eyebrows, but I didn’t say anything, pouring wine into my own glass. I didn’t stop when I should have, instead filling the glass to the brim, and Masen’s mouth dropped open.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What? Never seen a girl trying to drink her ass off?”
He chuckled. “If I’d have known you’d want to get shitfaced, I would’ve brought something. Something better than wine.”
“What’s wrong with wine?”
He grimaced. “Everything.”
“Fair enough. I don’t like it either, but it’s my mom’s personal favorite.”
I sat on the porch swing next to him, but I made sure to put as much space between us as possible. There were no chairs on the back porch, so it was either this or sit on the ground. I hadn’t bothered with turning on the porch light, so our only sources of light came from the garden lights dotting the ground and the moon.
The night was chilly, but my body was warm because he was near me and he smelled too good. It was hard to ignore how hot he looked in his black leather jacket and tight dark jeans or how I wanted to feel his strong body against mine again. He used his legs to rock the swing back and forth slowly.
I took a huge gulp of wine, despite how sour it was. “Your scent is too strong. What did you do with your cologne? Bathe in it?”
He gave me a cheeky smile. “Why are you complaining? I bet you like it.”
“Keep feeding your oversized ego.”
He chuckled. “I don’t need to. Your reactions do it for me most of the time.” He took a sip. “Is your mom going to be okay with me coming here?”
“You’re asking this after you barged in? And what she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”
“I didn’t barge in. You let me in with arms wide open. And I doubt she won’t notice this bottle missing.”
I snorted. “Arms wide open, my ass. And I’ll just tell her I accidentally dropped it and broke it, and the problem is solved.”
“A true mastermind,” he muttered.
“Says a mastermind himself.” I took another gulp, trying to get used to the taste. “Why did you come here?”
He raised his brow. “Didn’t we decide we’re going to get along now?”
“I suppose so, but that doesn’t mean we have to be joined at the hip.”
“It’s not a big deal, Satan. So, chill.”
“I can’t chill when you keep popping up when I least expect it.”
“Aww. Are you nervous?”
“Agitated, to be precise. So? Why did you come here tonight?”
“You really are a control freak. You have to know everything.”
“Of course I do, especially when you show up at my house this time of night and avoid answering such a simple question, Einstein. Why. Are. You. Here?”
He let out a heavy sigh and sank further back into the cushioned seat until he was almost lying flat, staring at the sky. “I was supposed to fight tonight, but it was cancelled, which sucks big time because I need that money. Badly.”
“Let me see if I got this right. You’ve been beaten up twice in the last few days, and you still wanted to fight?”
“It’s not that serious. I’m still breathing, aren’t I?”
I frowned at him. The bruises on his face still hadn’t faded, but he was ready to add new ones to his collection. He was almost as stubborn as I was, that mule.
“So, someone needs to beat your ass so badly that you end up on a ventilator? Is that what it’s going to take to make you give up fighting? Seriously?
He returned the frown. “Yes, seriously.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Says an idiot.”
I flipped him off and sipped my wine. I leaned my head against the back of the swing. “And why was the fight cancelled?”
“Because of all this shit with the cops. They’re getting hot on T’s trail, so he’s cancelling the fights and races.”
I shivered. Masen should run the hell away from this, not dig his own grave. “Is all of that really worth the money? Danger, injuries, constant drama, the chance to end up in prison . . . It’s crazy.”
“We’ve talked about this already. It doesn’t matter so long as it helps my family.”
“I know, but . . .” I downed my glass. “Can you ever see yourself leaving the gang?”
He rotated the wine in his glass idly, staring at it. “A long time ago, maybe I could. Now? I don’t have a choice. I’m not good at many things. I’m good at sports and racing, but outside of the gang, I can’t use those skills to earn quick money. The bills and Eli’s care won’t wait for me to figure out how to earn a living.”
My lips parted in surprise that he’d just opened up to me a little bit. It took a lot of courage to admit something like this.
“What does your dad say? Does he know about the gang?”
He gulped down his wine, and I refilled our glasses.
“He suspects something, but he doesn’t know what, exactly. Maybe he thinks I’m part of some small group of hooligans that earn money one way or another.”
“And he doesn’t say anything?”
He drank half of his glass in one swallow, his Adam’s apple moving up and down enthrallingly. “Not really.”
My eyes tore from his neck and met his gaze. “But, why?”
“I think he doesn’t make a big deal out of it because he feels guilty.”
“Guilty? What for?”
He downed the glass and poured himself more wine. “For not being able to fully provide for me and Eli.”
“So, it never ends, huh? You’ll keep mingling with those criminals for the sake of your family?”
Anger slid over his features. “How many times do I have to repeat this? I don’t have a fucking choice, Satan. You think I want to be chained to them? You think I enjoy being poor?” He snorted. “I can’t fail Eli or my dad. Even if it means wasting my life in the gang.”
“But what about your mom?”
He turned rigid, and I knew I’d touched upon a sensitive topic. His wine was gone in two swallows. His moves were tense as he grabbed the bottle again and filled his glass to the brim.
“She’s irrelevant. She’s been that way ever since . . . ever since that day.”
“Since the car accident?”
He snapped his eyes to me. “How do you know about that?”
“Eli told me.”
His fingers tightened around the bottle. “What else did he tell you?”
I sipped my wine. The taste was much more bearable now. “Not much, but I know your mom is not in Enfield. He wouldn’t go into details because of you.” I ran my finger over the rim of my glass. “I assumed you’d gotten your scars in that accident, and Eli confirmed it.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you tell anyone about the accident?”
“Of course! I took a megaphone and shouted it to the whole school.” I rolled my eyes.
He observed me silently, his eyes darting between mine. Finally, some of his tension left his body, and he slumped back against the swing, crossing his ankle over his knee.
“Our mother wasn’t paying attention to the road. Her cigarettes were more important.” He added the last part bitterly.
“Eli told me he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt when it happene
d.”
“He wasn’t.” He grimaced. “And now he’s in a wheelchair. Just like that.” He clenched the glass so hard I was sure he was going to break it. Pain cut into my chest.
“All consequences aside, you should be glad he’s alive. Not everyone has that luck.” My heart ached at the memory of that night in Steven’s bathroom. At least his brother was still alive.
“That sucks. If I had to choose between death and becoming a vegetable, I’d choose neither.”
I slammed my glass on the table. “And there he goes again. Eli is not a vegetable! You always look at him like his life is already over. Like he’s a rose to be kept in a glass bell until it withers. This isn’t Beauty and the Beast. Paralyzed or not, he has so many possibilities and so much potential, and one day, he’s going to rule the world. So, stop looking at him like he’s of no value.”
“I don’t look at him like he’s of no value. Hell, he’s the person I look up to the most, because he keeps pushing. Every day, when someone else might’ve given up, he keeps pushing. But I hate seeing him with limited options. I want him to have all the options.”
“Well, it is what it is. We can make the best of it, or we can spend the rest of our lives crying about it, and let me tell you, crying won’t make things any better.”
He exhaled a long breath. “I just wish I could rewind time and take the blow for him. Then he would have a shot at a better life.”
I shifted closer to him and placed my hand on his knee. His eyes dropped to my hand and widened, and I became aware only then of what I’d done. I didn’t move my hand away, though.
“He still has a shot at a better life. He’s paralyzed, yes, but he can make the most of it and live a much more fulfilling life than the rest of us.”
He observed my lips with hooded eyes, and the air grew thicker with a new kind of tension. He covered my hand with his, sending a surge of heat through me. I couldn’t swallow.
“It’s strange,” he said.
“What?”
“You acting like this.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he wouldn’t let me, tightening his fingers around my hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening. It helps.”
I yanked my hand away and crossed my arms over my chest. “Even when I’m preaching all the time?”
He half-smiled. “I got used to it. It would be weird if you weren’t. And I guess it’s funny, in a way.”
“Ladies and gentleman, we’ve made progress! I used to annoy him, but now I amuse him!”
“You did. You used to drive me crazy.” He emptied his glass yet again. His eyes were becoming a bit glassy. “But not anymore. Now it’s kinda . . .” He met my gaze with intensity, and I scrunched up my nose because I could just guess what he was going to say.
“Just don’t say cute. For the love of gummy bears, don’t say that.”
He threw on a cocky smile. “I wanted to say sexy, but okay.”
Heat bloomed in my stomach. I groaned. “Sexy? You’re out of your mind.”
He laughed.
“You’re absolutely out of your mind. I don’t want to hear you say that lame word ever again.”
“Why not?” He deposited his empty glass on the table and shifted closer to me, capturing me with his heated gaze. “You don’t like people pointing out the truth to you?”
I wanted to draw away, hypersensitive of his scent, his nearness, and the strength of that delectable body, but then he would see just how easily he could affect me.
“You’re drunk.” I placed my hand against his chest to push him away, but it was useless. He covered my hand with his, trapping it there as he held my gaze.
“From just a few glasses of wine? Not really, but you know what they say: a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, or however that one goes.”
I grimaced as I tried to push him again. “Yuck. Just stop. I’m going to puke.”
He laughed. “But it’s true.” He leaned close to my ear. “You’re sexy,” he whispered hotly.
The place between my legs pulsed with awareness. I closed my eyes. It would be so easy to lean in and let myself feel his kisses, but I was so afraid of the unknown when it came to him. I pulled my hand out of his grasp and away from his chest.
“That’s it. I’m puking.” I tossed back what remained of my wine and took the near-empty bottle to refill my glass.
“That’s not puking,” he said with a smile.
“Oh yeah? But it’s the way to get there.”
I gave up on refilling the glass and drank straight from the bottle. He watched me too closely, his eyes zoomed in on my lips wrapped around the bottle. He took the bottle from me and took a swig.
Now it was my turn to watch him, all captivated. He left the last of it for me and handed me back the bottle. Huh. That was thoughtful.
He motioned with his head at our surroundings. “Your mom went overboard with this house.”
I snorted. “Tell me about it.”
“It’s nice, but it’s huge. I would be bored as fuck in a place like this.”
“I bet you wouldn’t be saying that if you were surrounded by an army of babes.”
“Mmm, yes. We would have orgies all day long.”
“Eww, no. You did not just say that. No. Now I can’t get that awful image out of my mind.”
He burst out laughing. “You started it, so that’s all on you. And what did you think I would do with all those girls? Study geography?”
“He would in a way,” I muttered to myself. “He would study the geography of their bodies.”
“What are you mumbling about?”
“Nothing.”
He smirked. “You’re pouting. Are you jealous?”
“Yes, I’m jealous—of Rihanna’s ass.”
He chuckled. “You have a better ass than she does.”
My eyes grew wide, my heart skipping a beat. “Why do you make it sound as if you’ve been checking out my ass at least a hundred times?”
He smirked. “Because I have.” He placed his head against my shoulder, and I inhaled sharply. Warmth surged through my veins, blanketing me just like his intoxicating scent.
“Hey, move.” I tried to shrug him off with my shoulder, but he didn’t budge.
“Just for a little bit. I’m not going to eat you.” He chuckled. “Actually, I might eat you, if you know what I mean.”
My breathing went wild, matching my messy heartbeat. It was as if someone had stuffed cotton into my mouth. I couldn’t breathe, unable to get that hot image out of my head.
“Can you not?” I said through my teeth.
His only response was laughter. Pervert.
I struggled to even my breath as I looked off into the darkness surrounding the garden. “Okay, let’s get serious for a second here. Have you loved any of those girls? Are they really only one-time flings?”
“Nope. They didn’t mean anything.” He nestled his head further against my shoulder. “I’ve never fallen in love.”
I twisted my head to see his expression, but his face was buried in my shoulder, so I couldn’t see it. “Why not?”
He didn’t respond immediately, so I wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything at all.
Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Ever since our mother messed up all our lives and left us, I couldn’t trust any girls. I tried, but all I ever saw was her turning her back on us. Turning her back on Eli, who needed her more than ever. She broke my dad’s heart and left him to take care of us on his own. What kind of mother does that?”
I squeezed my hands into fists in my lap. That bitch. “So, she caused the accident and just ran away? There’s not a curse strong enough in this world for the likes of her.”
“That’s not all. She didn’t leave until after the other driver sued her and we went bankrupt paying the settlement.”
“Wait, what? The other driver sued your mother?”
“Yes. It was her fault for causing the accident, and he wanted to cash i
n on it.”
“What an asshole.”
“No more than my own mother who left us in the middle of the mess she caused. She divorced my dad and found a new family. We never heard from her again.”
I was clenching my hands too hard, hot anger making its way through my gut. “And she never even calls to check on Eli, at least?”
“Nope.”
She wasn’t a mother. She was just a selfish bitch who ran away when her family needed her the most—after they’d paid for her mistakes.
“And it’s better that way,” he added. “I don’t want anything to do with her. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes.” Nothing in his voice showed even the slightest hint of remorse or longing to see his mother.
I understood that he was over it, and that was great, but it was sad knowing he couldn’t count on his own mother. I glanced at him, feeling the need to be there for him—to somehow rewrite his past into a much happier one. He’d always looked as if he had it all, sitting on his throne on top of the world, when in reality, his scars ran far too deep, much like mine. He was living behind a mask, which he used like a shield against the world. I was more than familiar with that tactic.
We were the same. So different, yet so similar, and it was impossible not to feel closer to him. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, once more dancing on the edge that defined my vulnerability. One wrong step, and I’d be falling into the abyss.
“So, can you see now why I can’t trust girls? If a mother can do that to her children and husband, what could some girl do? I can’t open up to anyone.”
Can’t trust. Can’t open up to anyone. It was as if I was listening to myself.
He was me. I was him. We were scarred.
“But you’re opening up to me now,” I said quietly.
“I guess . . . I guess I am,” he said in a tone that revealed he was surprised by that fact.
He started drawing lazy circles on my thigh, and tingles spread through me at the contact. I held my breath, on the fence about what I should allow and what I shouldn’t, but then he went ahead and surprised me even more when he asked, “Is this okay with you?”
He drew another circle, this time a bit higher, and hell, it felt way too good. I bit my lip.