The Bad Boy’s Heart

by Holden, Blair

  THE BAD BOY’S HEART

  By Blair Holden

  THE BAD BOY’S HEART

  All Rights Reserved © 2017 by Blair Holden

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Blair Holden

  Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter One: I’ve Started Developing a Cannibalistic Hatred for Redheads

  Chapter Two: I Currently Have the Self-Worth of an Amoeba

  Chapter Three: I Burst Like the Freaking Fort Peck Dam

  Chapter Four: Screw Lemon Sherbet, Ice Cream Is the Magic Word

  Chapter Five: My Life, A Congregation of Life’s Cruelest Clichés

  Chapter Six: Stop Being So Sweet and Shirtless

  Chapter Seven: We’re Not Bunnies

  Chapter Eight: The Boy Band Asshat Needs to Know You’re Mine

  Chapter Nine: What Do I Need to Know about Baby Dolls and Teddies?

  Chapter Ten: BAM, You’re Naked and It’s Go Time

  Chapter Eleven: I Didn’t Cross the Line, I Usain Bolted Past It

  Part 2

  Chapter Twelve: That’s My Motto—Make Love, Not War

  Chapter Thirteen: The Man Can Get Dirtier Than the Inside of an Erotica

  Chapter Fourteen: Do You Really Need the Extra-Large Can of Whipped Cream?

  Chapter Fifteen: I’d Meant to Sweep You off Your Feet, Not Injure You

  Chapter Sixteen: I’ll Never Look at Hot-Pink Fuzzy Handcuffs the Same Way Again

  Chapter Seventeen: I’d Be the Guy from Twilight, but the Store Ran out of Body Glitter

  Chapter Eighteen: Caffeine Is My Natural Habitat

  Chapter Nineteen: Just Around the Time You Stole My Virtue

  Chapter Twenty: It’s Still Too Soon for Me to Be Thinking About Fat Suits

  Chapter Twenty-One: Nana Stone Is Going on About the Merits of Early Motherhood

  Chapter Twenty-Two: It’ll Be Like an R-Rated Disney Land

  Chapter Twenty-Three: It’s Like Finding Out McGonagall Wears Negligees to Bed

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Friends Don’t Let Friends Make Naked Mistakes

  Chapter Twenty-Five: His Possessiveness Is as Uncontrollable as Kanye West

  About the Author:

  PART 1

  Chapter One: I’ve Started Developing a Cannibalistic Hatred for Redheads

  Here’s the thing about time: it doesn’t give a shit about you. It doesn’t care whether you’ve been shattered and broken beyond repair. It doesn’t care that you’re grieving for a loss so immense that your heart literally aches every time you breathe. Nope, time doesn’t care. It keeps on moving, never just staying still. You might want it to remain unmoving, everlasting, but that doesn’t work out, does it? Time doesn’t care that you aren’t ready to move on. It doesn’t care that you don’t want to pick yourself up to do things just because the hour requires it.

  It doesn’t care that you’re in so much pain that your body’s become numb. All it does is keep on ticking and asking you to move along with it.

  So I do.

  Eventually, that is.

  ***

  One Week Later

  The bed and I have become really good friends this past week. We’ve never left each other’s side, if you’re curious. This is the week where we were all going to go on a road trip. Megan, Alex, Beth, Travis, me, and…him.

  Now I’ve destroyed it for them.

  I told everyone to go without me. That I just needed some time to get my head sorted. I wanted them to believe that I was okay but then, these people are the ones who actually care. Everyone saw right through me and they canceled the trip. What’s worse is that Megan and Alex end up fighting over me. That’s the tricky bit about dating within your group of friends. When breakups happen, loyalties come into question, and people get put in spots they don’t want to.

  The word breakup teeters across my consciousness but I push it aside, as always. The tears that come usually by this point are threatening to make an appearance again, and I am sick of crying. This is not the person I want to be. I don’t want to be the girl who hasn’t gotten out of bed in a week. I don’t want to be the one who pushes away everyone who cares for her. I don’t want to cause my friends to ruin their relationships. I don’t want to hurt this bad over a guy.

  But I am exactly that girl.

  When Cole came back into my life, I promised myself that I wouldn’t let a guy become my whole world again. The decision was more about Jay than it was about Cole, Jay’s stepbrother and the guy who I’d pined over for longer than necessary. I never questioned the strong hold he had over my emotions. I didn’t think he would crush them the way he did. So, I fell, and I fell so damn hard. But he’s gone now, and I’m still that stupid girl who feels too much.

  Pulling the quilt over my head, I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for some sleep. When I’m asleep, nothing bad happens, but then as soon as I wake up, the pain is there and it’s stronger than ever.

  ***

  Two Weeks Later

  I’m told he comes to see me every day. Every day they send him back. Beth says the first day, Travis gave him a black eye, and things could have gotten a lot worse if she hadn’t stopped my brother. She also tells me that he didn’t fight back at all, that he just stood there and let Travis do whatever damage he pleased. That causes a pinprick-like feeling to get through to my heart. The numbness is still dominating every other sensation, but that particular image in my head causes me to feel something. I push it away immediately. I don’t care.

  What Beth doesn’t know is that I see him leaving every single day. He slams the door like he wants me to know that he’s going away. That’s when I make the effort to leave my bed and take a peek from my window. Every day he stands on the same spot for approximately ten seconds before walking away. Once, in the very beginning, I saw him fall to his knees as his body shook with silent sobs. That almost—almost—broke my resolve, but then I remembered the pain. The pain he caused and how he could cause it again.

  It was enough to make me hide.

  So now I have to pretend that I don’t care. But I’m lying to them and, most importantly, I’m lying to myself. The fact is that I hate myself for even thinking about him. He sure as hell hadn’t been thinking about me when he…

  No.

  I’m not going to think about it. I’ve thought about it and I’ve thought about it again, but I’m done. I need to put this behind me. I have to put this behind. I can’t put my life on hold for him. Everyone says that teenage love is the kind you get over, that it’s never as serious as you make it up in your head. Being this depressed over a relationship that might not have had a long shelf life seems naïve and stupid, right?

  But I can’t help but disagree. What Cole and I had felt more, much more. It felt like more the rest-of-my-life kind of thing than puppy love.

  Note the use of the past tense.

  Now, hear that sound? Yeah, that’s the sound of my heart cracking open once again.

  This is also the week that Jay starts coming by more and more. I think he’s finally started to gain some insight toward how I feel, well, insight and some tact. To his cr
edit, he doesn’t look absolutely disgusted when he finds me in my bed, looking like a homeless person. I haven’t showered in a few days, so I can only imagine how I look and, well, my pajamas aren’t exactly from Victoria’s Secret. His eyes do widen for a nanosecond, but he quickly composes himself and takes a seat on the armchair to my left. I’m watching Supernatural since all I’m ever in the mood for now is blood and gore.

  We sit in silence for a few seconds before he speaks up. If he mentions Cole’s name or even remotely begins to talk about what happened, I’ll get Travis to kick him out. Simple.

  But he surprises me. “So, which season is this? I stopped watching it like a year ago.”

  The Stone brothers never fail to shatter expectations, do they?

  ***

  Three Weeks Later

  A breakup is good for at least a couple of things. When you’re trying to get over heartache and the constant, painful memories that hound you every second, you tend to find distractions. I desperately needed such distractions, so I put myself to work. Finals were here and I’d been studying my butt off. Normally when you’re this devastated and dead to the world, studying would be the last thing you’d want to do, right?

  Wrong.

  I study, and I study harder than I ever have. I think even Megan’s starting to freak out a bit, and she’s the one who’s all prepped and ready for finals three months in advance. Yet she can’t sleep during the entire week that they take place. Parking herself inside the library, she lives on coffee until she’s sure she won’t get anything less than an A+.

  And I’m taking it to a new level, so please feel free to question my sanity.

  Sleeping makes me dream, and I wake up drenched in sweat in the aftermath of those. They’re always similar. Erica and he, kissing, tangled bodies and lots of touching. Usually there are tears rolling down my cheeks when I get up, so I’ve given up on the entire concept of an eight-hour sleep. Now I take naps, lasting two or three hours, maximum.

  The rest of the time, I study.

  And by the time the first final is a week away, I’m ready to fall to my knees, because I’m going to have to see him.

  ***

  One Month Later

  Present Day

  “Yes, Mom. I’ll let her know. No, I can’t promise anything…you need to listen…okay, fine. I’ll try. Love you, too, bye.”

  Travis sighs as he plops down onto a stool at the kitchen counter. He looks tired and weary. It makes me feel horribly guilty. Not only does he have to deal with a girlfriend who’s overcoming her mother’s death, he has me, his psychotic, emotionally unstable sister. And let’s not even mention our parents.

  But at least I’m feeling…something. It’s better than the haze of self-pity that’s been surrounding me for the past month. A month, it’s been a whole, entire month of me hiding out in my room and recovering, as I call it. But now it’s time to get up and stop being so pathetic; that’s what my mother said once when she called. She doesn’t know the dirty details, but she knows about the breakup and my moping, as she calls it.

  I haven’t talked to her since.

  She has no right whatsoever to tell me how I need to live my life. She’s out there, living off her parents and doing god knows what with men half her age. She hasn’t checked up on either Travis or me in what seems like months, and now, all of a sudden, she wants to be my mom again.

  It’s not really that big of a surprise. My dad finally got some sense knocked into him and filed for divorce. He says he doesn’t care about the social repercussions but that he’s ashamed of the mockery he and my mom have made of their marriage.” Mom hasn’t signed the papers, though, but Dad’s already starting seeing someone, his secretary at that. Thankfully, she isn’t young enough that people would mistake her for an adopted new sister, but she’s young enough.

  And Mom feels threatened.

  Right now, she’s trying to convince Travis to convince me to spend summer break with her.

  As if my life isn’t miserable enough.

  “You should tell her that I’m not going to go.”

  “I would, if that would get her off my back, but it won’t. She’ll keep trying just because she doesn’t want you to be around Daphne.”

  “What’s she worried about? It’s not like Daphne and I are going to be braiding each other’s hair anytime soon. It’s too awkward between us.”

  “Try telling her that.”

  I let the conversation go and can practically see the disappointment in Travis’s eyes. It kills me to know that I’m the reason behind his pain, but there’s only so much I can do. I got out of bed, I worked my butt off for my finals, and I’m going to school today. But that still doesn’t mask the obvious changes he sees in me. I laugh a little less, talk a little less, and something inside me just feels…dead. Everything requires effort. Smiling hurts more than is worth the effort, and it’s becoming increasingly hard to be the person I used to be.

  “I’m so nervous, I’m going to puke. What if I forget everything I crammed for yesterday?”

  Beth is in panic mode and it’s understandable. School hasn’t exactly been her priority the past couple of months, and she’s fallen a little behind. We’ve tried helping her as much as we can, and, in all honesty, she’s got no reason to be afraid, but she is. I watch as my brother calms her down. I watch as their love for each other shines so brightly in their eyes. I should be happy for them; that’s what a good sister and friend would do. Instead, I’m staggered by the feeling of loss that courses through me.

  I’m so distracted that I don’t even notice it happening. The sharp edged knife I’d been using to chop vegetables for a quick smoothy misses the ginger and goes right to the skin of my wrist, slashing across it. At first, I don’t feel the pain—nothing at all. I just notice the blood pouring out of it, my eyes stuck on the red fluid and my feet glued to the floor.

  It’s only when I start to feel really light-headed that I cry out in pain. This catches the attention of the two people who really shouldn’t have to deal with my mess. Travis hurries across, catching me before I face-plant onto the kitchen floor.

  “Shit. Shit, what happened, Tess?”

  My heart’s hammering away; I feel so dizzy. I just want to close my eyes and fight the nausea. There’s so much blood. It’s trickling down my arm, it’s on the kitchen floor, and it’s soaking up my brother’s white T-shirt.

  “Get the goddamn first aid kit!” Travis shouts at a stunned Beth, who forces herself to move. I hear the thumping of her feet as she runs up the stairs to the bathroom. My vision starts to blur. Travis sinks us both to the ground and cradles me in his lap. It feels like I’m six again, the time when I scratched my knee badly against the neighbor’s rosebush and Travis took care of me.

  “Hold on, Tess. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.” He breathes heavily, applying pressure on the pulse point at my elbow. He’s trying to stop the blood flow, but there’s so much of it. The knife must have really gone deep.

  Why can’t I stop messing up?

  There’s no point trying to fight the darkness that begins to enclose my vision. It’s the blood loss, and I know I’m seriously messed up when I thank my horrible knife skills for giving me a break from reality.

  ***

  “Has she been eating?”

  “I…I try to make sure she has at least three meals a day, but she just picks at her food. She says her appetite is gone, and eating too much makes her sick.”

  “Well, that would explain what happened today. She’s weak, and I can see that she’s lost weight. You add that amount of blood loss to it, and this was bound to happen.”

  I know the woman’s voice. It’s eerily familiar, but it’s annoying that I can’t place her face. Consciousness tugs me toward it, but my mind fights it. I don’t want to get up; this right here is good. I’m surrounded by silence and it’s oh so peaceful. All the noise that’s constantly buzzing around my brain and making me…feel things is gone.

 
“What do I do? She’s been pushing herself so hard for the finals, like she’s possessed. She isn’t sleeping, she doesn’t talk to me, it’s like she’s here but not really…”

  “Present. It feels like the person they’ve become is just a shell of what they used to be. And, Cole’s the same.”

  I flinch inwardly. People know better than to say his name in front of me. I want to tell the woman to go away, but at the same time, I’m curious. She’s talking about him; she knows how he’s doing. I want to know if he’s in as much pain as I am.

  “Mrs. Stone, I appreciate the fact that you made a house call for my sister, but don’t bring him up again. He did this to her. She won’t tell me what exactly happened, but he’s the reason she’s so…broken. No offense, but I don’t give a damn about what’s wrong with him.”

  I shiver. It’s Cassandra. Does she hate me? Does she think I’m responsible for hurting both her sons? Any other mother would blame me for tearing her family apart. Yet she’s here and she’s helping me. And Travis is being inexcusably rude to her.

  My mother would have a heart attack. Such a pity she isn’t here.

  I keep my eyes shut, wanting to listen to the rest of their conversation.

  “Mom.” There’s a new voice. It doesn’t take me long to figure out who it belongs to. Only two people would call Cassandra mom, and, thankfully, it’s not the person I’d rather not see for the rest of my life.

  “They’re paging you from the hospital. I think there’s an emergency,” Jay says softly. They’re all talking in hushed whispers like they’re afraid of waking me up. It’s kind of funny that after all my insistence on not being treated as someone made of glass, I go ahead and slash my wrist.

  Unintentionally, that is.

  Cassandra sighs. “I should go, but make sure she has plenty of fluids when she gets up. And rest, she needs to rest, and just try to make her happy. The better she feels on the inside, the more it’ll reflect on the outside. Get her out of the house once she’s better, do anything to get her to move on.” She chokes at the last word, and I hear the clicking of her heels as they come toward me.