Detour: A Creekwood Novel (Creekwood Series Book 1)

by A. Marie

  With Joaquin’s farm being the huge success it is, and continuing to steadily grow, if we could land him as a client then others would surely follow. Ours being the only mechanic shop with a car wash as well, we’d be able to meet all our clients’ needs in one fell swoop. Farmhands drive a variety of vehicles and we could service and wash all of them with ease.

  Their eyes started to open the more I talked and soon we were spit-balling other ideas so fast I had to write them down to keep track. The one issue that kept coming up was Angela. I nodded absently each time they mentioned her, even as the pain in my chest intensified. Only when the sympathy in their eyes began outweighing their concern, I closed the conversation down, claiming I had somewhere to be. And I did. I had a girl to win back.

  The doormat seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. A way to let her know that whether we were together or not she still had a home she would always be welcome in. I didn’t anticipate the gesture to backfire the way it did though. Her saying she was moving had all my bones feeling like molten lava, burning me from the inside out while simultaneously dissolving my entire being into a puddle of agony.

  I just wish she would talk to me, tell me what changed. I can’t fix what I don’t know. It won’t stop me from trying, damn it. Everyone in her life has abandoned her so she expects it from me, too. The problem is she has no idea how deep I already am. I’m barely breathing as it is and I’m still willing to go deeper. I’d dive into a bottomless abyss for Angela, easily. There’s nothing shallow about my love for her and I refuse to give up until she knows it, feels it with every part of her existence, and only then will I walk away if that’s what she chooses. It’ll be hard and hurt like hell but I can offer her that respect. The kind that no one else ever has by letting her decide her fate instead of forcing some whack predisposed notions on her.

  I decide to stroll by the vacant lot and put this expensive camera to use. We’ll need everything perfected before approaching Joaquin, but I’m confident once we do, we’ll win him over. Compared to Angela, hard-headed Joaquin might be the easier of the two to persuade but I’m not backing down from either, no matter the low odds.

  After filming the site from every angle, I turn back toward home. Knowing Angela is there alone while the guys are out makes me uneasy and I want to be there should she need anything. Not that I expect her to ask for it, but still. It’s like a piece of me has willed itself to her, allowing me to only feel whole again when she’s near. The hollow hall between us is bad enough, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what I’m feeling now. My heart is practically pleading to go back, so I do.

  * * *

  Something’s wrong. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

  I dart my eyes around for the threat, recognizing it immediately. The Ford. His Ford.

  Even though I’m in a public space, I lay on the gas, reaching the spot faster than usual. He only rolled by like a creeper before, but now the dude’s parked. That means he’s either on his way up to Angela or he’s already there.

  Shit.

  I scramble off my bike, loosening my helmet in the process and tucking it under my arm in case I need to use it. I’m not taking any chances. Running to the stairs, I take them two at a time until I hear voices. One low with malice, one rising in alarm.

  Fuck.

  I soften my steps, listening.

  “This is too much, even for you. You need to leave. Now.”

  “Angela, let me in so we can talk. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

  My jaw grinds to the point of pain, but I block it out.

  Angela scoffs. “Are you out of your mind, Joe? You can’t show up here. This is where I live. If you wanted to talk to me, maybe you should’ve let me work this week instead of taking all my hours away.”

  She hasn’t worked this week? My eyebrows plummet. I’ve been so caught up in my own misery, I completely disregarded what she must’ve been going through. This jackass is throwing his weight around, probably as punishment for what we did to Steve. No wonder she thinks she should move; we’ve caused her too much trouble as it is.

  “That’s why I’m here now, so we can figure something out that benefits both of us. We both know you need the money. Stop acting like you’re not interested.”

  There’s a grunt then I’m moving again. A gasp has me sprinting up the last few stairs. Rounding the baluster, I find the immoral boss himself with one hand against the door, pushing to get in while Angela’s frantic eyes find mine. Joe notices, relaxing his arm. Angela uses this time to block the door with her body even more.

  “What’s going on, Angela?”

  I stare daggers at the bastard refusing to even glance my way.

  “I was just saying goodbye.” Her voice firms as does her posture.

  Good girl.

  My girl.

  Opening my door, Joe relaxes, thinking I’m going inside—just like I wanted him to. I find the banged-up Easton we keep next to the door and swing around just as Joe takes another step forward. The aluminum tings against her doorjamb, halting his advance. Angela jumps back but keeps her hold on the door steady, not backing down.

  “I believe she said bye. That means it’s time for you to go.” Speaking low next to his tilted head, his eyes stay glued to Angela and I really, really want him looking at me instead.

  Make a move. Make a fucking move. I dare you.

  His eyes finally meet mine and I lick my lip with anticipation. The promise of violence sits heavy in the air, light on my limbs. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on this asshole and my fingers twitch on the cool metal. My only concern is keeping Angela out of the way so when this bat starts flying, she’s not in its path. She’s a smart girl though. I can already see her inching backward in preparation, making me smile internally. Above everything, she knows I’ll always protect her. My chest swells with the need to do just that as I press in closer. Joe releases the door suddenly, shuffling back, away from me, away from my everything.

  I pivot so I’m now standing at the threshold, facing Joe’s overly sweaty figure. Angela, behind me, settles her hand on my lower back and it takes everything in me not to lean into her touch. I’m starved for her affection but not enough to take advantage when she’s scared shitless and vulnerable.

  Locking my muscles, I point the bat directly at Joe, aiming for his bloated face. He stares down the cylinder at me but takes the hint, walking backward, toward the stairs.

  “Let this be your one and only warning, stay the fuck away. If you have something to say to Angela, you say it to her at work and only at work. You speak to her with someone else in the room or you don’t speak to her at all. You keep your hands to yourself and far away from Angela. No means no, motherfucker. Got it?”

  His beady eyes shift over my shoulder but I nudge his jaw with the bat, firmly keeping his attention where it belongs. He’ll probably try to use this against her all over again but fuck it, I already have a plan for that. He needs to learn a lesson and I’ve got some steam to blow off.

  “Angela will see you tomorrow for her shift.”

  I have no idea if she’s scheduled or not, but it sounds like she needs the hours anyway. He can deal.

  Joe spins to go but Angela calls him back, making him pause. Pushing past me, she stands to my side while addressing him.

  “I heard what you told detailing about me.” His shoulders tense as do mine. “You’ll never get so much as a look at what’s under my clothes, and neither will they, so stop spreading lies about me or I’ll start telling the truth about you.”

  Her shaky hands go to her hips and I’ve never seen anything sexier. Holy shit, this woman owns me.

  Joe’s jaw ticks but wisely remains quiet.

  We wait until the sound of his engine flares, interrupting the labored silence before facing each other. I reach for her—I can’t stop myself—but she dodges, still not ready to give in. Angela’s like an injured bird that can still fly—not desperate enough to accept help yet, but in
need of it all the same.

  Her face drops, whispering softly, “I thought it was you.” My stomach tightens and I prop the bat against the wall before wrapping my arm around her waist. She stiffens but allows the contact. “I opened the door because I thought it was you.”

  She did? She was going to open her door for me? All week I’ve been begging, praying for her to open that door and the one time she finally does, I wasn’t even here.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t.” More than she knows. “I’m just glad I got back in time. Did he hurt you?”

  She shakes her head, making her long hair cascade around her worried face. “He wasn’t here long enough. He showed up just before you did. I didn’t think he would actually come here.”

  I did. I knew he was sniffing around and hate that I didn’t do something sooner. She should’ve been safe. She should’ve been with me.

  Her hazel eyes find mine. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  Aw, babe, if it was up to me, you’d never be alone again.

  It’s the closest I’ve heard her come to asking for help and it breaks my heart a little. Still cradling my helmet in the crook of my elbow, I drop the arm around her waist to take her hand. “You can stay in my room. I’ll lock up here and come check on you when I’m done.”

  I’ll take the couch and fill the guys in when they get home. She’ll never have to worry about anyone hurting her with us around. We’d willingly give our lives to protect her—as any good family would.

  She nods solemnly then passes through my partially open door. I watch as her pajama-clad body walks dejectedly down the hall. Bare feet pad across the carpet, leaving a hint of her ever-present strawberry scent as she goes. Baggy black pajama pants held up by a drawstring cover her long legs that have kept me awake in more ways than one. A matching cropped tank showing her toned abdomen flutters as she moves.

  I see a beautifully broken girl that life is trying to smash but who refuses to fall to pieces. Regardless, I’ll be there to help put her back together again, should she ever need it.

  Tonight came close. The droop of her shoulders tells me what she won’t. She was rattled. So was I. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he succeeded in whatever his rotted brain had concocted. The thought of his hands on her has my temperature rising all over again. I wanted blood. Shit, I still do. A bat wouldn’t have been enough. Not for a lowlife like that. If he’s willing to prey on someone as strong as Angela, I can’t imagine how he is with others, using his laughable title to make girls bend to his will. Dude deserves worse than what he got tonight. I’m not stupid enough to think a single threat will keep him honest but I can’t worry about that right now. Angela’s in my bed, upset. I can’t take away her pain, as much as I wish I could, but I can be there for her like nobody else ever has. I can hold her as she cries. I can listen while she rants. I can help form a new plan of action. I can love her the way she’s never been shown but deserves nonetheless.

  I work on getting everything settled so I can finally relax knowing she’s safe in my world again. And for now, that’s enough. I’ll figure out how to keep her there later, because there’s no other choice. I’ve never been more certain. She’s mine as much as I’m hers.

  CHAPTER 35

  Angela

  Times passes in a blur of engines roaring, voices booming, and doors slamming. The general consensus is the boys are pissed. I was, too. Seeing Joe’s face at my door tonight had me shaking—with suspicion and with fear. I formed it all into one easy outlet though—anger. I welcomed its sharp claws digging in, knowing I would need it if Joe thought he was getting past my door. Judging by the way he was pushing to get in, it might’ve even been what saved me had he succeeded.

  After Coty showed up, essentially saving me—or Joe, we’ll never really know now—all that rage morphed into disbelief. Disbelief in Joe’s audacity to show up at my door at all. Disbelief in Coty for riding up on a white horse disguised as a black street bike to save the day. Disbelief that I had let everything get so far out of hand.

  Where did it all go wrong?

  When had it ever been right?

  Truthfully, my time with the boy next door came as close to normal as I’ve ever experienced. With Coty comes Beckett and Marc, a trifecta I never could’ve anticipated. Even though they’re not my family, they are a family, one that defends what’s important, what they love most. For the briefest of moments that included me. Until I took myself out of the equation for being the biggest problem.

  Returning to Coty’s room, the disbelief quickly dissolved into sadness. And longing. The constant ache from the past week sparked back to life bringing along its close friend misery. The torturous combo making my chest sting from their cruel ways. The trickery they use with lies of not being good enough, that I’ll never be good enough.

  A knock at the door has me sitting up, the blanket gripped tightly between my fingers. The door cracks open as Coty’s shadow falls over the beam of light cutting through the room.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  With a nod, he steps inside, bringing a glass of water. He turns to me after setting it on the nightstand. “I just wanted to check to see how you’re feeling. And if you needed anything else?”

  Where do I start?

  “Thanks. For the water. And earlier. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

  Coty sits on the edge of the bed, gazing into my eyes.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing to be sorry for. What he did was his mistake. Not yours.” He sounds so sure and I want to believe him, but a part of me wonders. Wonders if I did bring this on somehow. “I’m the one that’s sorry. For this whole week.” His voice catches and he drops his face, hiding it from view.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m the one that pushed you away. I’m the one that’s been fucking things up from day one.”

  His stare finds mine again. Eyebrows pinched, he asks, “What do you mean? You haven’t fucked anything up.”

  “Ever since I moved in next door you’ve been dealing with my shit. My mere existence brings on a certain amount of…hassle, for everyone. Trouble follows me, affecting anyone stupid enough to get in the way. My problems aren’t yours, Coty, and that’s not fair to assume otherwise.”

  “First of all, that’s not true. Trouble doesn’t follow you. You’ve encountered some awful people in your life that think you’re worthy enough to go after. That’s not your fault, it’s theirs. And second, your problems are mine. We’re a team. Whether you admit it or not, you belong with us.”

  Scowling, I turn away. “I never asked for that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Give me your worst, babe.” I scoff at his words we’ve thrown around in less serious times. “I got you. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I close my eyes to whisper, “How can I be sure?”

  I feel the bed move.

  “‘Cause that’s what family does. They stick it out. They laugh, they cry, they bleed for each other, but they don’t walk away because things get tough sometimes.” I finally look as he rises to his feet. “You should get some sleep. I’ll be in the living room, if you need me.”

  My hand shoots out to grab his, stopping him mid-step. “Will you,” I pause, swallowing my nerves, “will you stay with me?”

  The corner of his mouth quirks. “Always.”

  I make room for him on the bed while he undresses, leaving his shorts on. Closing the door, he joins me, wrapping an arm around my middle from behind. He doesn’t pull me to him though. I yearn for his touch, for his peace, so I slide closer until our bodies are molded to one another. Coty takes a deep inhale, relaxing around me, his limbs heavy on my torso. The weight, the warmth, the knowledge that Coty intends to stick it out with me even though I’m a walking disaster—it all settles over me, silencing the doubts stirring beneath.

  “Sleep, babe. We’ll figure everything out in the morning
.”

  His words play on a continuous loop until my eyelids finally grow heavy.

  * * *

  I wake with a dry mouth and pressure behind my eyes. The previous night rushes back to me. The shots with Drew’s friend, Coty, Joe. Ugh. Life may very well be sucking me dry—although the shots didn’t help matters in that department.

  On a groan, I reach over Coty’s sleeping form to grab the glass of water, letting it wash down the cotton someone obviously jammed in my mouth. Vodka can be such a bitch like that.

  I roll back over to snuggle in when I feel a hard poke to my thigh. Now it’s Coty’s turn to groan but his grip on me tightens, pulling me closer so his erection presses against my backside. A fire ignites just below my waistband, spreading its flames up my entire body, settling on my cheeks.

  Coty’s husky voice croons in my neck, “Good morning.”

  It is now.

  “Morning,” I squeak out.

  His head jolts up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m…good.”

  His smile matches mine then he leans forward to kiss my lips softly. Just as quickly he pulls back, eyebrows tightly knit. “Sorry.”

  My hands come up to grasp his jaw. “Don’t be.”

  I pull him in again to kiss me properly—thoroughly. And Coty? The guy doesn’t disappoint.

  Things go from hot to scorching rapidly. Two lost souls coming together to find refuge in each other’s embrace, neither one willing to pull away for fear of losing the only connection that truly matters. Where he pulls, I push. When I take, he gives.