Masie steps forward and laces her fingers with Blaine’s. “West, please just tell her to talk to us. We know we messed up, but it’s not our faults that we like each other.”
“You should’ve told her,” I tell her. “You’re her best friend. She shouldn’t have found out the way she did.”
“I know,” she agrees. “But all I can do is apologize. And I can’t even do that if she won’t talk to me.”
“Why do you need to apologize?” Blaine asks Masie. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I shake my head in annoyance. “She stabbed Lex in the back.”
“It’s not Masie’s fault Lex likes me.” A trace of a smile tugs at his lips. “And honestly, can you blame her? I’m pretty damn hot,” he tries to joke. It sets something off inside me. Something that burns underneath my skin.
My hands ball into fists. “Are you being serious right now?”
Blaine holds up his hands in front of him. “Dude, chill. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Even though I still don’t think me or Masie did anything wrong, I know Lex’s feelings are hurt, but it’s not like I was dating her or anything.”
Hearing him call her Lex is what makes me snap.
I take a swing, my knuckles colliding with his jaw.
He stumbles back, landing on his ass and clutching his face. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” he growls, his face red.
“Jesus, West,” Masie breathes out, tears falling from her eyes as she rushes toward Blaine. “Why did you do that?”
I look down at Blaine. “He’s an asshole. That’s why I did it.”
Blaine’s lips part to say who the hell knows what, but the door behind him is opened and out steps his dad, dressed for work in his police uniform.
Yeah, did I forget to mention Blaine’s dad is a cop?
“What’s going on?” he asks as he scrutinizes the three of us.
“West just sucker punched me,” Blaine gripes, getting to his feet.
Blaine’s dad looks at me then back at his son. “You want me to take him in?”
Blaine looks at me, his eyes cold. “Yeah, I do.”
I shake my head, but I’m not surprised. Back in the day, I would’ve been. But like I said, Blaine’s changed a lot over the last year or so.
Blaine’s dad gives a nod then turns to me. “Come on, West. If you cooperate, I won’t handcuff you.”
“I don’t give a shit about getting handcuff.” No, what I give a shit about is when my dad hears about this later. He’s going to kick my ass.
Fuuuck.
As I walk away from the porch beside Blaine’s dad, I cast one final glance at Blaine.
“We’re done,” he mouths.
I give him a thumbs-up. I totally agree.
7
West
My dad is a well-respected lawyer in town, who has a lot of connections to a lot of very important people, and that’s probably why Blaine’s dad decides not to haul me into the station. Instead, he drives me home. I’d much rather have gone to the station.
“So, what were you and my son fighting about?” Blaine’s dad asks as he steers into the neighborhood where my house is located.
Most of the houses on the street are at least two-stories and have three-car garages. My house is one of the biggest and fanciest, but it’s all for show. Everything about my life is.
“A girl,” I mutter, trying my best not to breathe through my nose. The stench of the back seat of his patrol car smells like vomit. I’m pretty sure it’s coming from a yellow stain on the floor.
“Isn’t it always?” He nods understandingly as he turns into my driveway. “My advice is for the both of you to move on from the girl you’re fighting over. Your friendship is important to Blaine, and I wouldn’t want to see that ruined because of some girl.”
Some girl? Lex is definitely not some girl. Just like my and Blaine’s friendship isn’t that important. Just like I know he’s more than likely saying this so he can stay on my dad’s good side and keep on receiving those big, fat donations my dad writes the police department every year. But I nod anyway, just so he’ll stop talking about this. “Yeah, okay.”
He smiles then climbs out of the car and opens the door for me.
I climb out, massaging the hand I hit Blaine with.
“I’m going to let you take this from here,” Blaine’s dad tells me, glancing at the front door as my mother steps out, a look of disappointment on her face. He waves at her then moves to get into the car. “You should put some ice on that hand. It’ll keep it from swelling.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“And you can pick up your car whenever,” he adds as he ducks back into his vehicle. “Just as long as you don’t pick another fight with my son, understand?”
I nod again, but it takes a lot of effort this time.
I grit my teeth and stand there as he backs out onto the road and drives away. Even when he’s long gone, I don’t budge.
Maybe if I just stand here, I’ll disappear.
“Get inside. Now,” my mom snaps, crushing my hopes of sudden invisibility.
Biting down on my tongue hard, I start toward the house. When I reach her, she shoves me inside and smacks the back of my head.
“So, what did you do this time?” she asks, slamming the door behind us.
I shrug. “I punched Blaine. But in my defense, he deserved it.”
She glares at me. “Is he going to press charges?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She smooths her hands over her hair then across the front of her dress. “I have some guests coming over tonight. You can stay in your room. Delilah will bring you dinner.”
Delilah is our maid and used to be my nanny until I got older. She’s more of a mother to me than my own mother.
I turn for the stairway, confused as to why my mom is letting me off the hook so easily.
“And this isn’t over yet,” she calls out. “I’ve got other things to do right now, but later, I’m going to talk to you about this. And you will be punished when your father gets home.”
I smash my lips together as my hands begin to tremble at the mention of my dad. I hate that I react this way, hate that I’m so afraid of him, even now at almost eighteen years old. I wish I were stronger. But my mind is filled with memories of my weakest moments and all of them include my dad.
A kick to the stomach, and then he drags me to my bedroom by my hair.
“If you ever embarrass this family like that again, I’ll lock you away. Do you understand?” he growls in my face.
I nod, tears streaming down my face.
“Good.” Not a single drop of emotion shows on his face or voice as he throws me into my room hard enough that I bang my elbow against the hardwood floor.
More tears burn my eyes as I regret ever accepting Blaine’s dare to steal that game. But I didn’t think I’d get caught. Turns out, though, almost everyone in this town knows my family and reports back to him with what I do.
And every time they do, I get punished.
I swallow hard at the memory. It was one of the first times my dad kicked me. I was eight years old.
A few days later, Blaine noticed bruises on my side while we were swimming. When he asked what they were from, I lied and said I’d fallen off the trampoline.
It was the first time I had to lie about a wound my father put on me, but it wouldn’t be the last.
“Do you understand me, West?” my mom asks in a low tone, tearing me away from the painful memory and slamming be back to a soon-to-be agonizing reality.
I want to tell her no, that I don’t understand why my dad has to beat me. But all I do is nod then silently walk up the stairs, knowing there’s no use arguing about it.
While my punishment is probably going to be brutal, I don’t regret punching Blaine. Partially because I care about Lex and partially because, at this point, I’ve become numb to my parents’ punishments. Maybe that’s why I do what
I do next. Or perhaps I’m just living up to my reputation of being the piece of shit my parents believe I am.
Whatever the reason, once I get into my room, I send out a text to Holden and Ellis, a couple of guys who I’ve been hanging out with for the last handful of months. They’re a year older than me and no one really knows I hang out with them. Not Blaine. Not my parents. If Blaine knew, he’d probably ask why the hell I was hanging out with a bunch of druggies, if I’d lost my damn mind. And my parents would ask something similar, only their questions would be followed by a punishment.
And while Holden and Ellis get in trouble sometimes, they’re not bad guys.
When I hang out with them, I get a break from having to be the upbeat West everyone thinks they know, because there’s like this unsaid rule between the three of us that we don’t talk about personal shit. Although, I do know a little about Holden and Ellis due to times when we get a little too stoned or drunk and spend a little too much time yammering.
From what I know, Holden grew up in foster homes after his parents abandoned him until he turned eighteen. Then he got his own place on the bad side of town. Rumors are constantly floating around that he’s gotten involved with a group that sells drugs, which is true, but he’s a decent enough guy despite that. Sure, he’s had it rough and is kind of intense, but he’s had my back more than Blaine has over the last few months. Plus, I feel like I can just be whenever I’m around him, like I don’t have to play some stupid part that I’m not right for.
As for Ellis, he’s had it just as rough. His parents were killed when he was younger and, from what I heard, it happened right in front of him. I’ve never actually asked him about it. He was adopted when he was five, and while he rarely talks about his adoptive parents, I get this weird vibe that something wasn’t right with the family that raised him. Not that I’ve ever asked about that either. I understand not wanting to talk about stuff like that since I sure as hell don’t tell people about the shit that goes on in my house. If I did and my dad found out, things would be worse than they already are.
Me: Hey, anyone up for hitting up the skate park? I need to get the hell out of my house.
Holden: Sure. You wanna pick us up or meet us there?
Me: My car’s at Blaine’s, so we’ll have to meet there unless Ellis wants to drive.
Ellis: If I can get my truck started, I can. But why’s your car at Blaine’s?
Me: I got into a fight with him and his dad hauled my ass home in his cop car.
Holden: About time you got tired of that asshole. Please tell me you got a few good swings in.
Me: I sucker punched him pretty hard.
Holden: Man, I wish I had been there to see that.
Ellis: What the heck started the fight? I know he’s been getting on your nerves, but you don’t really get into fights.
He’s right. I haven’t got into many fights, although my parents will tell you differently since they love to blow everything I do out of proportion.
Me: Because he was treating Lex shittily.
Holden: Aw, the infamous Lex. The girl we’ve heard you talk about, but you never let her come hang out with us.
Yeah, as much as I like Ellis and Holden, bringing Lex into their world that can get questionable sometimes doesn’t seem like a good idea.
Me: It’s not that I don’t let her. She just wouldn’t want to … I’m not really her favorite person.
Holden: You always say that, but from what I’ve heard, Alexis seems more like us than she does that asshole she hangs out with all the time and that blonde girl … I can’t remember her name, but she’s a straight-up bitch.
Me: Her name’s Masie and she is a bitch. But Alexis is … complicated. She used to not be as intense, but then her parents died and she changed.
Ellis: I didn’t realize her parents died.
Me: It was a car accident.
Ellis: That’s really sad.
Me: I know.
The text stream pauses for a beat, and I start to get up to change, when another buzzes through.
Holden: So, have you thought any more about our proposition?
I chew on my bottom lip, unsure of how to reply.
A couple of weeks ago, I was high as a mothereffer while we were all hanging out. I sometimes get a little chatty when I get like that and may have told a little bit more about my shitty homelife than I meant to after they had implied that I had an easy life because I came from a family of wealth.
“Look, I know I’ve had it easy with some aspects, and I haven’t ever had to worry about having a roof over my head and shit like that, but having money doesn’t mean my life is some fantastic picnic. My dad’s an asshole,” I tell them as I lounge back on the torn sofa at Holden’s place.
Holden takes a drag off a joint, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “He yell at you? Or is it darker than that? Come on, rich boy,” he mocks with a grin, “tell us all about your shitty life.”
I don’t take his mocking personally. That’s just how Holden is. I kind of like that about him, that he isn’t fake like a lot of other people I know.
I waver for a second, knowing I shouldn’t tell the truth, because my dad warned me that he’d beat my ass if I ever told anyone what really went on in our house, but my mind is too cloudy to think rationally.
“Darker.” I gesture at a bruise on my face. “The asshole did this to me the other day because one of my grades slipped below a B.”
“Why does that even matter?” Holden asks, passing me the joint.
I shrug, taking the joint from him then taking a hit. “Because”—I make air quotes—“ ‘bad grades make me look stupid, which makes our family look stupid.’ ”
“That’s really dumb logic,” Ellis mutters as he pops a cap off a beer.
“For sure,” I agree, taking another hit. “But he’s always worried about how everyone sees him.”
“And yet, he doesn’t care that they might see that he beats his kid?” Holden asks with a brow raise.
I press my lips together for a beat. “No. He knows I won’t tell anyone.”
“If you ever tell anyone about this,” he once told me, “I’ll make sure you can never speak again.”
It was right after he beat me so badly that he broke my arm. I learned my lesson that day: Keep silent or end up broken.
Not that I’m not already broken.
“Maybe you can move out,” Ellis suggests with a shrug. “Don’t you have, like, a trust fund or something?”
I shake my head. “I can’t touch that until I’m twenty-one.”
“Oh.” Frowning, he takes a swig of his beer.
“Well, if you want, you could always come work with us,” Holden suggests in a light tone that makes me think he’s kidding.
I let out a laugh, but then I catch sight of his expression and realize he’s serious.
“Yeah, I don’t think I could do that,” I tell him. “I mean, my father would do God knows what if he found out I was selling drugs.” Plus, while I like to act all tough, the idea of selling drugs scares me.
Holden studies me for a moment then reaches to take the joint from my hand. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. The boss is always looking for some new incomers that know the town. And you have all those rich people connections, right?”
“Your boss wants to start dealing to rich people?” I question.
He nods. “Rich people can be the best customers. They use the most and always overpay.”
I nod like I understand, but I don’t. Not really. I mean, sure, I get high sometimes, but I’ve never dealt. Plus, I’m not really into hardcore drugs, something I’m pretty sure Holden deals. “I’ll think about it,” I say.
I still haven’t really thought about it. Well, not until Holden just brought it up again.
I pause for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to him.
Me: I’m still not sure if I want to.
He doesn’t reply right away, so I hurry and change my shir
t and shoes and put on a clean T-shirt and some sneakers.
By the time I return to my phone, Holden has replied to let me know that, if I decide I want to accept his offer, let him know. And Ellis has sent a text, letting us know his truck started so he can drive.
I grab my wallet, keys, a joint, and my skateboard. Then I lock my bedroom door and head out onto the balcony attached to my room to sneak out using the tree beside it.
I know I’m going to pay for this later if I get caught, but with my mom entertaining downstairs, there’s a chance she might not notice I’m gone.
Sometimes I think she pretends she doesn’t have a son. And sometimes I like that she does—my life is less painful when she does.
After I climb down the tree, I use the back gate to sneak out to the front of the house. Then I hurry down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk, slowing down once I reach the end of the block. Breathing out in relief, I plop down on the grass and wait for Ellis to show up.
As I’m digging out my phone, a shadow casts over me. Moments later, boots appear in my line of vision. The toes are dotted with paint and the laces are undone. I scroll my gaze upward, traveling along a pair of long, smooth legs all the way up to a beautiful girl with wildly wavy hair and the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask Alexis. “No, wait. Let me guess. You missed me so much that you tracked me down so you could see my sexy face.”
She looks completely out of it, like she’s in some sort of trance. But then she blinks, looking down at me, and just like that, her expression turns neutral. I’m starting to notice she’s good at that—turning off her emotions. At least on the outside.
She shifts the handle of a backpack higher onto her shoulder. “I didn’t track you down. I was just heading … somewhere and saw you here, and …” She starts to walk away, but I jump to my feet and snag the sleeve of her flannel.
“Relax, Lex, I’m just messing with you.” I let go of her sleeve as she turns to face me. For a fleeting moment, she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “Are you okay?” I ask worriedly.
Accepting the Deal (Honeyton Alexis): (Signed with a Kiss, #1) Page 6
