I opened the front door, set my purse on the catchall table, and took a step toward the stairs. The front room light flipped on. I froze. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I turned at a snail’s pace. Mom wasn’t standing next to the light switch. Neither was James. Instead I found Chris trying his best to keep a straight face and failing.
“You jerk!” I seethed. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Your face.” Chris bent over laughing.
I stomped across the front room and punched him as hard as I could on the arm. “I hate you. I thought you were James.”
He stood up, rubbing his arm where I’d hit him. “I know. That was the point. It’s after midnight. Where have you been?”
“At Chase’s.”
“With Devon?”
“Yeah.” I cocked an eyebrow. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “If you want people to think you’re a slut . . .” His shoulders raised in a shrug. “What do I care?”
“I’m not a slut, Chris.” I scowled.
“Of course not.”
His sarcasm irked me. I punched him in the shoulder again before I stomped upstairs. “Jerk.”
Forty
“Where do you think you’re going?” James asked.
“To hang out with my friends,” I answered.
“Did you finish all your chores?”
“Yes.”
“What about the garage? Did you clean up that mess?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “Can I go now?”
“I want you back here by nine,” he said.
“My curfew’s not ‘til midnight.”
“Tonight, it’s nine. I’ve got to work in the morning, and I don’t want you out to all hours doing God knows what.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and walked toward the door.
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me, young lady,” James growled. “Be home by nine or you’re grounded for the rest of the summer.”
“Okay.”
Annoyed, I threw open the front door and stomped to my car. The wind lifted my hair like a hood. I pushed it back as I got in. Shutting the door, I reached to put the key in the ignition and realized that half my hair remained outside the car.
“Ouch.” I opened the door and pulled my hair inside.
The drive to Chase’s trailer took twice as long as it should have. I followed a truck filled with hay down the dirt road, going ten miles per hour. At the Y, the truck veered left and kept going toward Clarington. I pulled into Chase’s yard beside Jake’s Trans Am.
Electric guitars and bass rattled the trailer windows. I didn’t bother to knock on the door. With the stereo on full blast, no one would hear it.
Chase, Jake, and Jeremiah crowded together on the couch. They stared at a woman dancing in a sparkling gold bikini on the television and drank from long neck bottles like zombies barely aware of the world going on around them.
Devon sat in the armchair closest to the door. He wore a ratty pair of jeans and grease-covered white T-shirt. Claire perched on the chair’s arm, watching as Devon moved a small glass tube with a round end from his lips.
“I want to try.” Claire grabbed at the pipe, a lighter clutched in her other hand. “I’ve never done crystal.”
“Fuck off.” Devon pushed her back and knocked her off the chair.
“Asshole!” Claire scrambled to her feet and rubbed her butt where she’d bumped it on the side table. “You’re such a selfish bastard.” She stomped into the other room where Maimy, Lexie, and the other girls had gathered.
Devon set his lighter and the pipe on the coffee table, looked at the television, and got up. His boots clomped on the floor as he speed-walked into the kitchen. He returned less than thirty seconds later with a beer in one hand and a bag of nacho cheese tortilla chips in the other.
“Hey, baby doll.” He ran the words together, so they would have been too fast to be understandable if I hadn’t heard them a million times before.
I furrowed my brow, not sure what to make of what I’d just seen. “Hi?”
He threw the chips at Jake and wrapped his arm around me. “Did you miss me?” He nuzzled my neck.
“What’s going on?”
Devon ignored my question. He guided me to a chair, sat down, and pulled me into his lap. His nose brushed my ear before he kissed my neck. I glanced at the couch. Jeremiah’s eyes darted to the television, Jake thought he heard Maimy call, and Chase appeared to be asleep. Devon’s arms circled my waist. He pulled me against his chest and moved my hair aside. Kissing my neck, he slid his hand up my shirt.
His forwardness surprised me. He seemed oblivious to the room full of people to witness him groping me. I pushed his arm down and turned to face him.
“Don’t.”
“Come on, baby.” He pulled his hand out of my grasp and tried to get back up my shirt.
I gritted my teeth and shoved him away. “I said stop.”
With a smirk, he slid his arm around me, pulled me against himself, and kissed my lips. I tried to get away, but his hold was too strong. He yanked my shirt over my arm, tearing it and exposing most of my right breast.
I couldn’t speak with his mouth over mine. Silent tears wet my cheeks. Why is he acting like this?
“Hey.” Jeremiah’s voice sounded like a clap of thunder. “Leave her alone.”
Devon looked around me, his eyes narrowed into a piercing glare. “Fuck off, asshole. She’s my girl. I’ll touch her if I fucking want to.”
As if to prove his point, Devon squeezed my boob and kissed me again.
“I said leave her alone,” Jeremiah growled.
“Mind your own business,” Devon retorted.
I tried to escape while Jeremiah had Devon distracted, but Devon grabbed me tighter.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Please, just let me go,” I answered feebly.
“Fine. Go.” Devon pushed me off his lap.
I landed against the coffee table.
Jeremiah sprang forward. “You all right, Princess?”
I nodded as he helped me to my feet.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Devon demanded.
“Go to hell,” Jeremiah retorted.
Devon stood. “I said get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off her!” His fists clenched.
I looked at Devon, more emotionally hurt than physically. “Devon, stop. Please.”
Understanding swept Devon’s face. He grumbled under his breath as he turned and picked up his lighter. The silver Zippo flew across the front room, hitting the wall, before Devon stomped out of the trailer. He slammed the door and yelled something incoherent from the porch.
“What the heck is going on?” Carter rushed into the front room with Jake, Maimy, Claire, and the others on his heels.
“D.” Jeremiah took off his flannel shirt and wrapped it around me. “Here.”
“What happened?” Maimy asked.
“He got mad.” My shoulders shook as I lost the last fragment of control I had over my emotions.
Maimy pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay. Come on.” She led me into the kitchen, setting me in a chair and using her sleeve to wipe my face. “You don’t need him.”
“But I do.” I sobbed. “I love him so much. I don’t understand. Why is he acting like this?”
“Because he’s a jackass.”
“You all right?” Carter stepped into the doorway.
I looked up at him, but before I could answer, Maimy snapped, “No. She’s not okay, Carter. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was just—” he stammered.
She rolled her eyes. “Go away.”
Carter backed out of the doorway. I looked at Maimy who leaned down in front of me, moving wet curls from my cheeks.
“It’s going to be okay, Princess,” she said. “We’re not going to let that asshole mess with our girl. Are we?” She glanced at the two girls who’d taken Carter’s place in the doorway.
Lexie nodded. “Uh-hm. That shit-bag is going to pay.”
I shook my head. “No. Don’t. He didn’t—”
“Don’t defend him,” Maimy growled. “He isn’t worth it.”
“Yeah.” Claire stepped closer. “I’m so tired of girls letting guys treat them like shit and being all, ‘He didn’t mean to. It wasn’t his fault.’ That’s bullshit.”
I sniffled. “But—”
“No buts.” Maimy shook her head.
I pressed my lips together. The girls weren’t interested in giving Devon leeway of any kind. They had determined without knowing what happened that he deserved punishment. End of story. I didn’t want to punish him. I wanted to know why.
Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I took a slow, deep breath.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Carter asked.
I shook my head. “I’ve got my car.”
“You sure?” Maimy rubbed my shoulder.
“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “I want to go home and forget tonight ever happened.” I sucked in my lips, trying to stifle fresh tears.
“Okay.” She kept her hand on my back as we walked toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” I forced a weak smile before gripping the doorknob.
The night air felt cool on my damp cheeks. I wiped my nose on the back of my hand as I walked down the porch steps.
“Hey, baby doll,” Devon said.
I jumped and turned toward his voice. The only thing I could see was the end of his cigarette glowing red when he took a drag.
“I thought you left,” I said.
“No.” White smoke billowed toward me.
“Devon, I really don’t want to—”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“What do you want?” I sighed.
He stepped closer, and I backed away.
“I just want to talk to you.” He put his hand under my chin. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” My voice quivered.
Taking the final drag from his cigarette, he tossed it into the gravel, exhaled, and leaned down to kiss me. I turned away.
“Is that how it is?” He jerked my head back to look at him.
“Ow.” I scrunched my face.
“Fuck.” He slid his hand to my cheek. “I’m sorry, baby doll. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He set his free hand on my other cheek and kissed my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please. Just let me go.”
He dropped his hands. “Tori, I’m—I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”
“This what?” His voice hardened.
“You. I can’t—”
He stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. “You ever think I might not be the problem? Maybe it’s your expectations.”
“What expectations?” I asked.
“You have this idea in your head you have to fix me. Maybe I don’t want to be fixed.”
“I don’t want to fix you.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“You just don’t want me to touch you.” He scoffed.
“It’s not that. I just—”
“Don’t bother.” He turned around and pulled out his cigarettes.
“Devon.” I touched his back.
He whirled, raising his right fist.
“Devon!” I put my hands up.
“Goddamn it!” He hit the side of his truck.
The sound of metal lingered in my ears. He pulled his hand away from the truck and looked at it. My whole body shook. I stared at him. When his eyes flashed to me, I jumped. I wasn’t sure if he’d hit the truck on purpose or missed his target out of anger. My heart thumped against my sternum as I backed away from him.
“Tori?” His voice broke. “I—”
Shaking my head, I turned and ran to my car. I watched to make sure he hadn’t followed as I fumbled to put my keys in the ignition. Tears blurred my vision. I swept them away, sniffling, and turned on the car. My headlights illuminated Devon when I pulled out of the yard. He stood beside his truck, hands on the hood, with his head down.
Forty-One
“Devon!”
“Goddamn it!”
The sound of Devon’s fist connecting with his truck shocked me back to reality. I stared out the window of my prison cell—or rather, my room, which would be my cell for at least two weeks. James had grounded me for lying to him. He assumed my torn shirt had to do with something I’d done, not something that had been done to me. After calling me every synonym for slut he could think of, he banished me to my room. I was only allowed out for bathroom breaks and food. But I didn’t care. I would have hidden in my room, anyway.
Carter had already stopped by to check on me, delivering a bag of Oreos as if that would magically make me feel better, and Devon called at least twenty times before I unplugged the phone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Nobody understood. The boy I loved more than anything had become someone I couldn’t stand to be around.
“Don’t sulk, Tori,” Mom said at dinner. “You should know better than to act that way with boys. We’ve taught you better.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Mom,” I grumbled, shoving peas across my plate with a fork.
“Let’s not talk about this again.” She pursed her lips and inhaled deeply through her nose.
“Fine.” I scowled. “Can I be excused?”
Mom’s eyes flashed to my plate. “You haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m not hungry.” I got up without waiting for permission and stomped out of the kitchen.
“Now, wait a minute.” James’ chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “You get back here, young lady. You were not excused.”
“Bite me.” I grabbed the banister, pulling myself up the stairs as fast as my short legs would carry me.
After reliving Devon’s rage every time I closed my eyes, James didn’t scare me. I had seen the devil. He had blue eyes and wore my lover’s face.
Thick pages covered my bedroom floor, torn from my sketchbook. Heavy metal blasted out of my stereo speakers shaking the walls. Scissors rendered the black boots Devon said he liked too much unwearable. His mechanics shirt met the same fate. I attacked everything that reminded me of him, cutting him out of my life.
“I hate you!” I screamed as I shredded a picture Maimy had taken of Devon and I cuddling in the corner booth at Twyla’s. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”
Out of things to cut, I stood in the center of the room seething. “Goddamn it!” The scissors flew from my hand. The blades stuck in the wall next to my window. I stared at them for a moment before letting my eyes scan the mess I’d made. My knees weakened. I dropped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been severed. Grabbing a tattered piece of Devon’s shirt, I pulled it closer, laid my face on it, and cried. “I love you.”
“Are you excited for school to start?” Joy asked.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
“I am. I can’t wait to hear what everyone did all summer.”
“I already know what everyone did. Nothing.”
She dropped her eyes to the sidewalk.
If I had been in a better mood, I might have played along more, but I didn’t have it in me to feign happiness for her or anyone else. I’d gone. That should have been enough for her. I could have told her no, refused to leave my room, and left her to figure out how to see Carter without me. It wasn’t my fault her uptight mother wouldn’t let her date.
“Hey,” Carter said as he joined us in front of the movie theater on Clarington’s main thoroughfare.
“Hi.” Joy smiled.
“Hi,” I mumbled indifferently.
Carter lowered his voice and asked Joy, “What’s her problem?”
“No idea,” Joy whispered back.
“I can hear you, you know,” I said. “If you want to
know what’s wrong with me, why don’t you just ask?”
“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Carter looked at me.
“Nothing,” I answered. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Okay,” he replied.
The low roar of an engine caught my attention. I glanced at the parking lot as Devon’s gray truck idled past. As always, he had the windows down and a cigarette perched between his lips.
“Great.” I sighed.
“Are you and Dev still fighting?” Carter asked.
“No.” I shook my head.
“You mad at him for something?”
Folding my arms across my chest, I turned away from them. I didn’t want to deal with Devon. Anger didn’t cover what I felt; it was more anger mixed with sadness and disappointment—a crushed-dreams smoothie with a little broken heart sprinkled on top.
“Hey, baby doll,” Devon said warily as he approached.
“Hey,” I retorted.
He looked at Carter.
“No idea.” Carter shrugged.
Devon started to run his fingers through his hair but stopped. A white cast covered most of his right hand, wrist, and half of his forearm. He winced when his fingers touched his forehead.
I stared at the cast as Devon stepped closer. He slid his arm around my shoulders, kissed my temple, and whispered, “I’m sorry.” I put both hands on his side, pushing him away. The last thing I wanted to hear was another hollow apology. Tears stung my eyes as I stomped toward the street. I hoped he wouldn’t follow—I didn’t want to fight—but I knew with my first step he would.
“Tori, I’m sorry,” he said. “Please, talk to me.”
I turned around, waiting for him to get close before asking, “Are you high?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“You said you would never lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Yes, you are. It’s like your thing now.”
He scowled. “What do you mean it’s my thing now?”
“You lie to me all the time,” I answered. “I’m sick of it.”
“I’m not high. I took some painkillers. But that’s it. My hand was hurting like a sonofabitch.”
Broken Dreams (Spiraling Book 2) Page 23