I’d avoided talking to her about it because I really didn’t want to discuss the reason I was here in the first place. But I needed to man up and say something. As frustrated as I was with the constant side-eye, I knew I deserved it, so I made sure my voice was calm, contrite even, as I leaned on the counter opposite her.
“Aunt Hannah, I know my being here isn’t easy for you. I don’t know what you discussed with Mom and Dad—they don’t really tell me anything—but I want you to know I’m not here because my parents made me. I want to be here. I want to be anywhere but . . . there, where it all happened and everyone looks at me like I’m a monster.” Because I am . . . fuck it. I swallowed and made myself own it. “I know it’s because I am. But I’m trying not to be. I’m really, really fucking sorry for what I did, and I promise I’m not interested in causing any trouble at all. Sorry for cursing.”
She straightened her shoulders, and her expression visibly softened as she scrutinized me for a few minutes. “I believe you. I don’t know if I would’ve handled the situation like your parents did, but I’m not your parent. But then, I guess you’re not your father either . . .” She looked to the side, lost in thoughts I suspected weren’t directly related to our current situation. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve been a hard-ass. I’m just still trying to figure out how to navigate this.”
“It’s OK. I don’t want you to change your life on my account. Go out, spend time with Robbie. Have him over if that’s what you used to do. Just know I won’t cause any trouble. I can take care of myself, and as soon as school is over, I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll figure something out.”
“Tell you what, I’ll stop being such a bitch and be more relaxed if you promise to come to me if you need help with something or if you’re struggling. I agreed to this for many reasons, but I do want to be here for you, Hendrix. If I can.”
I had to clear my throat around the lump that had suddenly formed there. If my parents had, even once, made me feel as supported as this virtual stranger had, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. “Deal.”
“And I don’t think you’re a monster.” My gaze flew up to hers, the emotions flying around in my chest too many to process. “I think you made a mistake—a very bad one that you have to live with for the rest of your life—but I don’t believe you intended to . . . for things to go the way they did.”
I held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. It was all I could manage.
“Right!” She slapped the counter and literally shook the tension out of her shoulders. It was the most animated I’d ever seen her. “Good talk! Should we hug it out?” She tilted her head and gave me an awkward, questioning grin.
I chuckled. “That’s not necessary.”
“We’ll work up to it.” She waved her hand. “I’ll get a stepping stool to prepare.”
“A stepping stool?”
“Yeah. You’re way too fucking tall. I need to assert my adult dominance by gaining a height advantage.”
I let a genuine laugh bust out of my chest. “So, you’re OK with cursing then?”
She tapped her chin and squinted, then shrugged. “Yeah, fuck it. You’re an adult, and I have a potty mouth.”
“Excellent.” I grinned. This was feeling more like a nephew-aunt relationship, and a little weight lifted off my shoulders.
She left a few minutes later, and I got on with exactly what I said I’d do—homework.
My phone went off just as I started packing my books up, yawning so wide my jaw felt as if it might dislocate. I checked the message and sighed.
Heard you were in my neck of the woods. Hit me up if you need anything—even if it’s just to shoot the shit over a drink.
The number was unknown, but I knew the name at the end of the text. This had the potential for trouble—trouble I didn’t need, wasn’t interested in, and just told my aunt I was avoiding. But even I knew not letting off some steam every once in a while could result in even worse trouble.
I decided to ignore the message for now and flopped into bed. It was well past midnight, but I still had trouble falling asleep, thoughts of a certain interesting blonde keeping me tossing and turning.
Chapter Four
Hendrix
My lunch tray was yanked out from under my nose before I had a chance to pick up the silverware. It clattered to the ground, pasta puttanesca splattering everywhere as a green apple rolled away.
“Oops.” A girl with curly black hair held a hand to her mouth in mock shock, her friends snickering behind her.
Half the kids in the cafeteria froze, their full focus on the scene, just as Donna and her friends walked past.
I took a deep breath and released it through my nose. Fixing the wannabe bitch with an unimpressed look, I bent sideways to grab the sauce-covered pudding cup and—without breaking eye contact—removed the lid and licked it in a slow, deliberate move. I almost smiled at how her face slackened, her lips parting a little in shock even as she frowned in frustration at my lack of response. She was no doubt wondering what my tongue would feel like between her thighs, questioning how her brilliant plan to humiliate me had backfired so badly.
I dropped the lid onto the mess at my feet and dug into the pudding as she walked away, her shoulders tight.
Shit was escalating. In the last few days, the girls had started getting physical too. None of them dared try to shove me—they weren’t that stupid—but pushing my books off desks, throwing their trash in my direction, and other aggressive moves were getting more common.
If something didn’t change soon, I’d have to make a stand. I wasn’t interested in being anyone’s friend, but I wasn’t going to be anyone’s punching bag either. Even though I deserved it, ultimately, they didn’t know that, so was it really penance for past crimes if my tormentors’ hearts weren’t in it for the right reasons?
People buzzed around Donna’s table, laughing and joking, not paying any attention whatsoever to the rest of the cafeteria. The wannabe bitch was neither getting rewarded for her stunt with the queen bee’s attention nor being chastised for her stupidity by anyone else. This thing had taken on a life of its own. Donna wasn’t behind the continuing escalation of shitty behavior toward me, but she wasn’t doing anything to stop it either.
Only Mena and Donna’s sister, Harlow, glanced in my direction every once in a while, sitting at the end of the table in their own private chat.
My knee bounced under the table, but I made myself eat the pudding at a leisurely pace. Then I got to my feet, cleaned up the mess as best I could with napkins, and returned my tray to the staff, letting them know there was an accident and apologizing for the mess. None of these brats would bother cleaning it up, expecting “the help” to do their bidding even at school. I was one of these brats until not too long ago.
I left halfway through lunch, needing to get away from all those idiots even if it meant not getting a proper meal. The bag of chips I had stashed in my locker wouldn’t be enough, but it was better than nothing until school ended.
Footsteps echoed behind me in the mostly empty hall, and I slammed my locker shut, preparing for whatever bullshit was coming next.
Turned out it was a serving of hot fries and not bullshit. Mena came to a stop next to me and held out the steaming offering. My mouth watered. Who didn’t love hot fries?
“I noticed you didn’t really eat.” She was wearing makeup today, her birthmark invisible.
I arched a brow at her. “How can I be sure no one pissed on them?”
She scrunched up her face. “Who would defile the sacredness of hot fries like that?”
My lips twitched. She almost drew an actual smile from me. “Wouldn’t put it past your friend.”
“Donna wouldn’t do that.” She sighed as I took the fries. “And she didn’t tell that girl to throw your lunch on the ground.”
I gave her a skeptical look and spoke around a mouthful of hot potato. “She didn’t tell her not to either.”
“No, b
ut Donna isn’t the boss of everyone.”
I snorted and gave her a withering look.
“OK, fine. She has a lot of influence around here, but . . .” Mena trailed off, searching for words to defend her cousin, just as the girl in question appeared with the other two at the end of the hallway. Lunch was coming to a close.
Donna stopped next to us and clasped her hands in front of her. I shoved another three fries into my mouth to distract myself from the exposed skin between the tops of her socks and that infuriating skirt. Who the fuck decided to put a bunch of hormonal teenagers into porn-fantasy outfits and make them spend every day of the week together? Idiots . . .
“You OK, Mena?” Donna asked as she stared at me. There was genuine concern in her voice.
Mena huffed. “I’m fine. He’s harmless.”
I shoved more fries into my mouth. If she only knew how decidedly not harmless I was . . . I should’ve just walked away, but instead I found myself leaning back against the locker.
Donna finally faced her friend. “Hendrix has made it perfectly clear he wants to be left alone.”
I finished the last of the fries and cut in before anyone else could speak. “Thanks for the fries, Mena. You seem like a genuinely nice person. I really don’t understand why you hang out with these vapid bitches.”
Harlow fixed me with a scowl so deep she bared her teeth. Amaya stopped texting for longer than a few seconds and narrowed her eyes. Donna surprised me once again by leaning back just a fraction, a tiny smile pulling at her lips.
But it was sweet Mena who surprised me most. She stepped right into my space and poked me in the chest. “No. I know you’re new around here, so you don’t know us, and I don’t really understand this bizarre feud between you two, but I’m not going to stand here and let you talk about my friends like that. You’re being a judgmental douche—and not the vagina kind. The butt kind.” She jabbed my chest again, and my eyes widened. I’d inadvertently unleashed some kind of attack koala, and she was coming for my head. “I’m trying to be nice to you because I think that’s the right thing to do, but make no mistake—I would do anything for those three. They’re like more than sisters to me. No one fucks with Devilbend Dynasty.”
Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and stalked away. Harlow and Amaya trailed after her, but Donna remained, a smug smile on her lips as she crossed her arms.
I crushed the empty, greasy bag in my fist and straightened to my full height. She didn’t even waver, somehow still managing to look down her nose at me despite having to look up to meet my eyes.
“Don’t fuck with my friends. Then you’ll know what I’m really capable of.”
“You’re already making my life difficult enough. What more could you possibly do?” I gritted out, showing my frustration for the first time.
“You wanted nothing to do with me, any of the other students, or this school.” She shrugged. “I simply let a few people know.”
“Yeah, well, they’re really running with your suggestion now, so consider this a fair warning. If shit keeps escalating, I’m not just gonna take it lying down. I’m not expecting to be anyone’s bro, but I’ll have to start swinging back if it comes to it.”
I dumped the greasy bag in the trash and shoved my way through the crowd. It was the most aggression I’d shown since I started at Fulton, and surprised students started getting out of my way.
It was a lie, of course. If the violence increased, I wouldn’t do shit to fight back. I’d never swing a fist again, as much as I wanted to. I’d rather die.
The pent-up frustration had to be released somehow though. By the time the day ended, I’d snapped three pens.
As soon as I got in my car, I slammed the door shut and resisted the urge to punch the steering wheel. I couldn’t go home. Video games wouldn’t cut it today. Plus, I’d been slacking off with my fitness.
Because I was a good, responsible boy now, I shot off a text to my aunt.
Going to sign up to a gym. May be home after you.
Her response was immediate.
No worries. Staying at Robbie’s tonight. Be safe!
The words on my phone screen melted some of the frustration from my system. Be safe. Not be good or don’t disappoint me or don’t embarrass me. I was beginning to wish Aunt Hannah had raised me and not the two emotionless robots I had for parents.
I drove to downtown Devilbend and parked at Exert. There were several gyms in town, two closer to where I lived, but I chose this one because it was on a busy street in the center of everything. I wanted the anonymity of a crowd.
The young guy behind the counter looked up from the computer screen and gave me a polite smile.
“Hey. Welcome to Exert.” He was in shorts and a workout top with the gym branding, and his messy blond hair gave him a little bit of a surfer vibe.
“Hi. I’d like to join up.”
“Great!” His smile widened, and he tapped at the keyboard before pointing to a touch screen facing me. “Just fill this out.”
I filled out the form and handed over Dad’s credit card, and he gave me a membership card and key fob. “We’re open twenty-four hours, but the desk is only manned during business hours and evening classes. I’ve sent you an email with the schedule if you’re interested. Can I help organize a PT session? The first one is complimentary.”
“Nah, man, I’m good. Just here to work out.” I was already swinging my bag over my shoulder.
“No worries. I’m Turner, by the way. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Turner,” I called over my shoulder as I headed toward the changing room.
I thrashed my body for nearly two hours, alternating cardio and high-intensity weights. I hadn’t played football in a year, and with everything going on, my visits to the gym had been sporadic at best. No question I’d be feeling it the next day.
When I got home, starving, I made myself two microwave dinners and slumped into a stool at the kitchen island.
My phone vibrated when I was halfway through something resembling chicken and pasta. I checked the message and sighed. It was from that same number.
Hey, man. Wanna come out? Maybe play some pool? I’ll be here all evening. No pressure.
At the bottom was an address two towns over.
I’d ignored the fucker’s first message, and I knew I should ignore this one too, but the thought of spending another night in this empty house, alone, made me want to claw my eyes out.
I’d hardly had a conversation with anyone besides my aunt in nearly two months. I hadn’t heard from my parents since the day they put me in a town car headed for the airport. The kids at school were on a collective campaign to make my life hell. And I hadn’t spoken to any of my old friends in a long time. Most of the large group that used to hang on my every word disappeared pretty quickly after they realized I would no longer be going to school, let alone playing football—not after what I did. The rest I cut off myself. I couldn’t stand to look at them. It was like looking in a mirror.
My aunt was supportive, but she was still my aunt, not my friend. Not someone I could chill with.
Shady wasn’t an ideal companion—especially with a nickname like that—but he was all I had at the moment. I shoveled the rest of my dinner into my mouth and headed for the shower. My aunt wouldn’t even know I’d gone out, but it didn’t matter. I had no intention of breaking my promises to her. I was staying out of trouble. This was simply an excuse to get out of the house before I went completely batshit and started collecting cats and putting on tea parties for them.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the address he’d given me, I sighed. The neon name above the door—Davey’s—glowed in the dusk. It had taken me forty minutes to get there, and it was probably going to be a giant waste of time. Shady hadn’t bothered to mention it was a bar, so I hadn’t bothered to bring my fake ID. I wasn’t even sure I still had it.
I sent him a text.
Just got here b
ut can’t join you. Did you forget I’m underage?
I was hoping I could convince him to grab a burger or something. I really didn’t want to go home yet.
After five minutes, he still hadn’t replied. Then a lean guy in a black tracksuit came swaggering around the back of the building. I’d only met him once, when he came to visit his cousin in New York about six months before my life was turned upside down, but there was no forgetting that cocky swagger, the wide grin.
Everything about this guy screamed trouble. You could tell with one glance he was Shady by nature and not just by name.
I got out of the car and walked toward him.
“Hendrix, my man!” he called out, spreading his arms wide.
I gave him a half-hearted wave and a smile. We shook hands, and he pulled me in for a good thump on the back too.
“Hey, Shady. Nice to see you again.”
“You too, man, you too. Come ’round back—no bouncer.” He led the way, then leaned sideways as if telling me a secret. “Between you and me, this place isn’t exactly too bothered with shit like that.”
“Shit like . . . legal drinking age?” I raised my eyebrows with a smirk.
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, how you been, man?”
Without giving me a chance to answer, he started chattering away about nothing specific as we walked into one of the dirtiest bars I’d ever seen. It was dingy, smoky, and full of people who looked even more like trouble than Shady—and that was saying something. I followed him to a seating area in the back, and he introduced me to a handful of other guys, who gave me their best tough-guy head nods in greeting.
Before I could sit down, he led me away again, still talking shit. I’d never met someone who could talk so much without actually saying anything.
We settled into a couple of barstools, and he turned to me. “Had to intro you to the businessmen. It’s a respect thing.”
I just nodded. If those guys were legitimate businessmen, then I was a professional cupcake baker. “They own the club? You work for them?”
Like You Hurt: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 2) Page 4
