She still felt bad about flipping off her racist neighbor last year.
“I’ve got claws,” she said, raking her nails through the air. “They better watch out for me on a full moon.”
“For the record, you’d make a terrible werewolf. You do realize they eat raw meat?” I laughed when her lips thinned. “Forgot about that part, huh?”
“You’re mean.” Her gum popped again. “Remind me again why I hang out with you?”
“Because if anybody messes with you I’ll kick their ass?”
“You’re right. I guess there are some fringe benefits.” She lifted a brow. “Maybe I’ll even miss you when you’re gone.”
My stomach tightened. I looked away to keep from making my apprehension obvious, but there wasn’t much I could pretend to be distracted by.
This alley hadn’t changed in the years we’d been hanging out here. The assortment of abandoned beers and other debris didn’t count. It was a perfect representation of the rest of the small town.
Outdated. Neglected. Forgotten.
I hated it here. Just like I’d hated it since day one. But I was used to it now.
The dumb kid who used to leave doors unlocked, walk around with headphones in, and strike up conversations with strangers died ages ago. About the same time the tiny apartment Mom and I shared had been broken into.
I took another drag of my joint, banishing those thoughts to the past they belonged in. “I have to leave before you can actually miss me, and I haven’t decided if I will yet.”
Danika scoffed. “Is that how we’re playing this? Because if so, you should at least buy me a drink first.”
She strolled away before I could respond, hips shifting in her loose shorts. Danika was single-handedly keeping the memory of summer alive with her flowy, yellow blouse and strappy sandals. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop being aware of how little time was actually left before a choice had to be made.
In less than a week, college started.
In less than a week, I’d either be stuck here until another once-in-a-lifetime chance came my way, or I would be stuck somewhere I might hate more.
But with a chance to actually do something with my life and take a break from seeing Mom’s apologetic face.
I followed Danika into the convenience store. Then a cough stopped me at the entrance.
Mrs. Tanaka glanced pointedly at my hand. It took me a moment to remember the still-lit joint cradled between my fingers. I couldn’t say I was particularly attached to it, but I found myself taking one last drag before stomping it underfoot.
“Cherry or Grape?” Danika’s voice interrupted the glaring match before it could begin.
I found her standing by the icee machine, rocking back and forth.
“That’s not even a question,” I said. “When in doubt, do both.”
She wiggled her brows at me. “Is that what you told yourself before your scandalous night with the Harlan twins?”
I groaned. “Nothing happened! How many times do I have to tell people that before they’ll let it go?”
Of course, people might’ve been more inclined to stop bringing it up if nothing happening was the truth.
Grind on two different guys at a party and no one will ever let you forget it. I hadn’t even realized there were two of them until Danika told me the next day. They looked just alike, and I’d been more than a little drunk at the time.
Danika shrugged. “Cherry it is. We can’t all be as self-indulgent as you.”
I laughed as I paid, and we set off down the street. I could feel her taking my measure, waiting to bring up the topic I was avoiding.
My skin prickled with need for another joint if only to have something to do with my hands. I shoved them in my pockets instead. Nothing would have more power over me than I decided to give it.
“Just spit it out already,” I said when the anticipation became too much.
“You have to say yes.” She stuck her gum to the lid of her drink and took a sip. “You’d be an idiot to pass this up.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. From everything you’ve told me about your dad, he’s a world-class prick who doesn’t care about anything but himself.”
He wasn’t always, but I kept that to myself.
I sighed as we passed a basketball court, tossing a nod to the kids that waved. “Exactly. So why is he pulling strings to get me into BRU when I haven’t talked to him in almost six years?”
There was no other reason for the acceptance letter on my dresser back home. Black Rose University didn’t care about flawless GPAs or fancy scholarships, neither of which I had in the first place. They were the definition of legacy.
There was no such thing as applying.
Either you were chosen or you weren’t.
To be tapped by BRU was to be part royalty. The illustrious college was home to the sons and daughters of business moguls, politicians, movie stars, and others who had enough zeroes in their bank accounts to give God a run for his money.
Since Dad came from one of the families that founded the college, it had to be his last name that earned me a ticket.
But why?
Why extend this invitation now after years of painful, radio silence?
“Maybe this is how he apologizes,” Danika said, always ready and willing to see the best in people.
I lifted a brow. “James Brennan didn’t apologize for telling me I’d always be a disappointment.” I didn’t stop when she winced. “He didn’t apologize for throwing Mom and I out on our asses. Forgive me if I don’t think he suddenly turned over a new leaf.”
Danika went quiet and contemplative. I was content to stare up at the partly cloudy sky and let old resentments fade away. Hating him was easy, too easy.
Those first few years post-divorce, when I had to beg to get a job at a fast-food place and listen to Mom cry herself to sleep every night, I’d done nothing but hate him.
Cold, wet fingers pulled me to a stop, and I glanced at my best friend, noting the bright glow in her brown eyes.
“You know what? Forget about him. Do this for you. You know as well as I do that they’ve got their own culinary program.”
I started walking again so she wouldn’t see my pout. “Technically, I don’t need a degree to be a pastry chef.”
“Maybe not.” Danika caught up with me. “But unless you’ve got a dragon’s hoard of cash stashed that I don’t know about, you’re also going to be starting from the ground up.”
Emptying my pockets, I glanced at the spare change I had left after buying Danika’s icee. It was barely enough for a bus ride. Definitely wasn’t going to buy my very own bakery.
“Admit it,” Danika said, sticking out her tongue. It had been dyed blue by the drink in her hands, adding to how ridiculous she looked. “Being able to put BRU on your resume knocks community college out of the water.”
“Yeah, D. All for the low, low price of my soul.”
She bumped my shoulder as we took a familiar route to our neighborhood.
“I thought you didn’t have one of those,” Danika said, a smile in her voice. “You shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“There’s going to be a catch.” I couldn’t gather her mirth for myself. “He wouldn’t know the meaning of selfless if it bit him on the—”
We rounded the corner onto our street, but it wasn’t the sight of the battered apartment complexes lining the block that made me draw up short and stop right there on the sidewalk.
My mouth gaped.
My brain stuttered and came to a stop.
Reality as I knew it shifted, Danika’s reaching hands the only thing that kept me upright.
I took in the scene slowly, reminding myself to breathe.
Parked in front of the apartment was a silver Maserati, the emblem on the front a giant middle finger to the whole world. Not that the man who owned it gave a damn.
James Brennan stood with his hands in the poc
kets of his slacks, shiny loafers tapping an impatient beat against the cracked sidewalk. The expensive shades perched on his nose couldn’t hide the scowl he threw at everything in sight.
Even after five years of going without seeing it, that creased frown of his was intimately familiar. Hell, that was basically his default expression when it came to me, Mom, public transportation, and generally all things he deemed worth less than his legacy.
Without so much as turning that scowl my way, I was a kid again, smoothing the wrinkles in my dress and spending hours brushing the tangles from my hair in the hopes that he would look at me and just once see something other than disappointment.
Obviously, I’d never succeeded. Being cast aside like two-day-old takeout—the kind you threw in the can with your nose scrunched—proved as much.
A cold chill went down my spine and then turned into a hot wave that washed over me, sending my stomach clenching around nothing.
For all my big talk, he was here. He was present.
I wanted to see one of his rare smiles directed my way just as much as I hated myself for said desire.
But it didn’t take long for the hate to drown beneath the crashing wave of panic that came with seeing the grim frown that creased his features when he turned to me.
Something in my soul told me this wasn’t about the fancy, engraved letter I hadn’t answered.
Danika said something to me. I think I muttered a response. Either way, I was only distantly aware of her crossing the street to the other apartments as I made my cautious approach.
He stood, looming without even trying, and the weight of his attention was difficult to bear.
I knew that the cold eyes behind those shades were dissecting my appearance as I slowly got closer. Prim and proper were important to him. I didn’t fit into either of those boxes anymore.
Colorful, cupcake tattoos crawled from the elbow of my left arm and wrapped down to my fingertips. A silver hoop pierced my nose. Scuffed, black boots stood out against pale legs that refused to tan beneath the summer sun, no matter how small my skirts were.
None of those details escaped his notice. By the time I stopped in front of him, the slight twitch to his nose had become a full-blown curl of disapproval. The same one I recognized from a hundred other endeavors that never quite met the James Brennan standard.
“Where have you been?” he snapped.
No hello.
No sorry it’s been so long.
Just a demand, accompanied by him checking his watch. Like he had much more important things to be doing than wasting time with a daughter he’d never cared about.
Not that I was bitter or anything.
I swallowed the barbed response on my tongue, almost choking on it for the effort. “If this is about the letter, I—”
“It’s not,” he cut in, throwing the door on his shiny car open. “Get in.”
Okay, no. He did not get to barge back into my life and act like this.
My arms folded and I tipped my chin up. “I feel like you’re skipping a lot of steps here. Giving me a single reason to go anywhere with you would be a good place to start.”
Dad was silent for a long moment, staring me down behind dark lenses.
I stared back, bold as can be. That I was even standing here giving him the time of day was more than he deserved. In all honesty, I would much rather point him to the nearest anthill to stick his head in.
“I see your manners haven’t improved,” he said finally.
“Oh, is please the only thing I’m missing that’ll make you go away? Because if so...” I made a show of batting my lashes. “Please get out of my face for another five years, at the minimum.”
Color rose in his cheeks. “You will not speak to me that way, Emily. I am your—“
I took two quick steps, putting my face as close to his as I could.
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I hissed, so angry that my skin burned.
He thought he could play the parent card? Now? I would’ve laughed if I thought the sound would make it past the ball of red-hot rage sitting in my throat.
“Are you done?” he asked, strolling around to the other side of the car. His hand landed on the roof while he stared at me over the top of it. “We can always continue this pointless bickering later. I thought you might be in a bigger hurry.”
My brows drew together. “For what?”
Dad didn’t smile.
That almost made it better when he said, “To get to the hospital.”
My world stopped, all the blood in my body freezing.
He wasn’t done.
“Your mother overdosed.”
3
Emily
The silent ride to the hospital left a layer of dust on our feud. By the time we were in the elevator headed to the upper floors and their private rooms, a wordless truce was in place.
When the silver doors opened, he waved for me to go ahead and then fell into step beside me.
I wanted a blindfold.
It wasn’t that I thought I could hide from the reason we were here. That would’ve been impossible anyway. The knot in my chest had only gotten tighter.
No, I wanted to keep from seeing how lavish this wing of the hospital was. Freshly scrubbed floors, warm lighting, plush chairs both inside and outside of the empty rooms we passed. Nothing at all like the sparse necessities on the lower levels.
We rounded a corner and found a plump receptionist on the phone. She offered us a wide smile and held up a finger, so we took a seat and waited. The chairs were even more comfortable than they looked.
Dad slipped his phone from his pocket and started typing without acknowledging me. So his next question caught me off guard.
“Why do you look like that?”
I blinked, breaking my laser-focused stare on the premium coffee machine behind the receptionist. “Like what?”
He peered at me from the corner of one gray eye. “Like there’s a noose around your neck and your feet can’t touch the floor.”
Just the mental image I wanted. Thanks, Dad.
“How much do these private rooms run?” I asked. “Ballpark figure.”
“Why does it matter?”
I raised my hand. “I’ve got a feeling that my part-time shifts aren’t going to cover this.”
He grunted. “The bill is taken care of.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you?”
His fingers paused their rapid fire across the keyboard. “Why does that sound like a question?”
Because thanking someone for being a somewhat decent human being is weird as hell?
“No reason,” was what I said.
“Liar.”
My head whipped towards him, hair flying over my shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“The indignant tone says you heard me.” His fingers started flying again. Who the hell was he talking to? “Pretending otherwise is pointless, and makes you look like a fool.”
My teeth clenched, fingers balling into tight fists. “No one asked for your analysis.” I waited a moment for his harsh response, fully prepared to get WWIII up and running again.
His focus returned to his phone, leaving me forgotten. Again.
I’m not proud to admit I snatched the phone from his grasp and tossed it down the hall.
A few nurses stopped mid-chat as the drawn-out slide followed by a solid thump from crashing into the wall echoed. My cheeks went crimson while he stared at the side of my face. The urge to do more made me want to crawl out of my skin.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, getting to my feet.
I stopped by the receptionist again, ignoring her raised brow. Whatever she thought, I didn’t care. There was only one reason I was here right now.
Reaching over the counter, I grabbed a pen and paper to jot my number down. I left a note for her to call me and stomped off before the hot ball of anger in my throat exploded from my mouth like a supernova.
I went to the stairs in
stead of the elevator, doing a double-take up and down the hall before ducking inside. After another cursory glance in search of fire alarms or cameras, I pulled a joint from my purse and lit it.
The first long inhale was bliss. I held it in my lungs until my eyes watered and a pleasant haze numbed some of the tension.
Letting smoke stream from my nose, I slipped my phone from my pocket. There were four missed texts from Danika. One from Carter, our mutual friend and my on again off again...guy?
Boyfriend didn’t seem like the right fit.
Neither of us were relationship material.
Carter, because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants if it meant surviving a zombie apocalypse. That thing had seen more action than an entire rock band, but he did know how to use it.
And me, because any intimacy beyond casual sex practically gave me hives. I couldn’t escape from cuddles and sleepovers fast enough. Want to see an untrained athlete win a gold medal?
Let some guy try to kiss me. I’d move so fast it’d be close to teleporting.
Danika: What’s going on? Is everything alright?
Danika: Why are you so dang bad at answering your phone?
Danika: Are you in the back of the police car for going all Kill Bill on your dad? Because I don’t have enough in the piggy bank for bail right now.
Danika: Call me. Please.
Carter: Danika called. U Gud?
I snorted at the difference in tone between their messages. Knowing Danika, she was on the verge of a level five meltdown. She hated when I went radio silent. I swear she would put a tracking chip in me if she thought she could get away with it.
Thankful as I was for her concern, I couldn’t talk to her right now. The painful squeeze in my chest would return. I was halfway in shock still that the same woman I covered with blankets this morning before I left home had taken enough of something to put herself in the hospital.
Why?
Were our lives that bad?
I knew the culture shock from the lavish life to this one had been...a lot. I even knew about the pills because I could never seem to flush all of them before she got her hands on more. But I hadn’t known it was this bad.
Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1) Page 2
