I pick up my pace. “I’m not worried you’re going to.” No, I’m worried whoever this unknown person is will, and then I’ll end up in bigger trouble, like Milo warned me.
And while I don’t want to admit it, I’m worried about how much West can see of me now that he knows.
I quicken my pace even more, practically running, but he captures the back of my shirt, pulling me to a stop.
“Then why are you running away from me?” He drops his hand from my shirt as I turn toward him with my arms crossed.
“I’m not running away,” I inform him, that mask of indifference fully back on now. “We did our practice kiss, and now I’m leaving so I can figure out who the hell this asshole is that is … Well, I’m not really sure what they’re trying to do, but I’m going to find out, and then I’m going to kick their ass.”
“You want me to help you?” he offers, scratching his wrist.
“No, I can handle it.” I spin around to leave, but he gently wraps his fingers around my wrist and moves up beside me, catching my gaze.
“Let me help you, okay?” The edges of his lips quirk. “It’ll give us something to do while we’re fake dating. You know, between all the kissing.”
“There won’t be that much kissing,” I stress. But just the mention of kissing gets my heart racing a bit. It’s such a little dumbass. I tell it to shut up, to go back into those damn thorns and continue withering.
“Okay.” But his eyes glint with amusement. “Then I guess we really need something else to fill up the time, so let me help you with this.”
I’m not one for accepting help, but I do want to know who keeps texting me so I can make sure they keep their mouth shut.
No one else can find out I’m behind those spray-painted words all over town. There’s too much at risk if word gets out. My family could get broken up. Plus, everyone would know the real me, the girl behind the mask.
“Fine,” I give in, surprising him and myself. He probably thought I was going to be harder to persuade. Honestly, so did I, but I must be really worried. “But how do we even attempt to figure out who this person is?”
He contemplates this with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip. That lip that I sucked on at one point.
Reality bitch-slaps me hard.
What the shit, Alexis? What were you thinking! You were just supposed to kiss, not bite his lip then let him suck on your neck. I probably have a damn hickey from it.
“I think we should start out by making a list of the people you think might be doing it,” he finally says. “And then go from there.”
“Masie and Blaine are on it,” I tell him. And so are Jay and his friends, but I don’t tell him that since that’ll lead to a whole pathetic story of just how badly they’ve tormented me over the years, how they still torment me sometimes when they don’t think people are looking.
His hands crawling all over my ice-cold skin…
His brows elevate in surprise. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t really think they did it, but with how upset Masie was about you punching Blaine and how I didn’t care … And then she was trying to make up with me, but I ignored her … I wouldn’t put it past her to do something like this if she somehow found out I was behind the spray paint. Although, I’m not sure how she got an unknown number.”
He wavers his head from side to side. “I really doubt it’s them, but I think you should put them on the list just to be safe.”
“Okay …” I chew on my bottom lip. “Why did you seem so surprised when I suggested it was them?”
He gives a half-shrug, staring out at the street. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just used to you being”—he shrugs again, looking at me—“team Blaine and team Masie.”
“Yeah, but never team Blaine and Masie,” I stress. “And besides, I’m over that.”
Am I, though? Can you just get over a friendship like that? Maybe. Maybe not. I really don’t want to think about it, though. No, what I want is to focus on something else. In fact, I think I’m going to put all my energy into figuring this out. Then I won’t have to think about anything else for a while.
Although, if they do turn me in, I might be thinking about some major things. Like probation and whether or not Social Services is going to come yank me and my brother and sister out of our home.
Shit. I need to figure this out, no matter what it takes. Even if it means swallowing my pride and asking West for help. Yeah, he already offered, but I need to make sure we’ll get to the bottom of this quickly.
“Hey, West,” I say as we start wandering back in the direction of my house.
He blinks at me, seeming sort of dazed. “Yeah?”
“I need to make sure we figure out who this is as quickly as possible and make sure they stay quiet … It’s really important.” I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t ask why or why I painted the buildings in the first place, because I can’t ever share that with anyone.
He offers me a small smile. “We will.” Then, to give me extra reassurance—at least that’s why I assume he does it—he reaches over and hitches his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie swear on my life, baby.”
I shake my head, wanting to get annoyed at the baby remark, but his pinkie promise has a trace of a smile pulling at my lips.
Blaine, Masie, him, and I used to make these promises to each other all the time, way back in the Before when things were simple. When life wasn’t so broken. When I wasn’t so broken. And for a fleeting moment, right after he says it with his pinkie hitched with mine, I don’t feel as broken as I normally do. But a step later, he pulls his pinkie away and that brokenness catches up with me again.
I almost miss a step, but I quickly catch myself and keep walking, one foot in front of the other, moving forward, further away from the past and toward an unknown future. Weirdly, with West by my side.
14
West
Lex and I stay fairly quiet during the walk back to her house. Normally, I’d try to fill in the silence by joking around, but my mind is crammed with other stuff right now. Like who could be texting Lex. What their game is. How I’ll find all this out, because I will. I take my pinkie promises very seriously. At least with her.
I also can’t stop thinking about that kiss … replaying it in my head … The way she tasted, how soft her skin was, the little gasps that kept escaping her lips as I gently tugged on her hair, the way she bit my lip. The latter was completely unexpected and totally turned me on. All of it—she did. I just wish the kiss had been real; wish she’d actually wanted to kiss me to begin with.
Still, the kiss was amazing, and I’m going to keep replaying it in my head over and over again until our next one. And maybe, just maybe, along the goddamn way, she’ll finally start seeing me as more than a friend. Although, depending on what happens when I get home, I might not be able to leave my house for a while.
I officially haven’t been home for more than twenty-four hours. Last night, while I was at the party with Holden and Ellis, my mom started texting me relentlessly with threats, warning me that, if I didn’t get my ass home, I was in even more trouble than I already was. Part of me wanted to leave; knew the longer I stayed and disobeyed, the worse trouble I’d be in. But I was too high and drunk, and Holden was introducing me to all these people… I just sort of lost track of time as everything passed by in a haze.
Maybe it was a stupid decision to go to the party at all. But at the time, I convinced myself that I was going to avoid getting my ass beat. But that avoidance has made the punishment pile and fester. And honestly, I’m worried about what’ll happen when I get home.
And here I am, promising Lex that I’ll help her. What if I can’t? What if he makes it so I can’t? What if he finally goes through with his threats of finishing me off and putting me out of my misery?
Those thoughts continue to haunt my hungover mind until we arrive at Lex’s house.
She starts across the grass toward the front door, muttering a goodb
ye. If I didn’t know her as well as I did, I’d take it personally that she’s so eager to bolt from me right after we shared that hot as hell kiss. But Alexis has never been one for facing emotional stuff head-on, even back before her parents died. Although she wasn’t as shut off as she is now.
“Hey, Lex,” I call out to her.
She pauses then turns around, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah?”
My gaze fleetingly drops to her lips and, damn, I want to kiss her again so badly, but her guarded expression lets me know she’d more than likely kick me in the balls if I tried.
I cautiously step toward her. “I’m going to look into this texting thing and see if there’s any way we can find out whose number it is. I have a friend who’s really into technology, and he might know something. His name is Ellis, and he’s pretty cool, so you don’t have to worry about him telling anyone anything.”
She bobs her head up and down, nibbling on her lip. “Okay. And I’ll get working on my list.” She turns to walk up the stairs, trying to bolt.
“Lex,” I call out again, my nerves surfacing as I prepare to say what I need to say next.
She sighs heavily then turns to face me. “Whatever it is, West, just spit it out. This whole tiptoeing-around-it thing doesn’t suit you.” She smirks. “You’re too big of a loudmouth for that.”
And just like that, I relax for a moment, reducing the last of the distance between us.
“I was just going to say that I’ll text you tomorrow so we can figure out what time we want to show up at the party together.” I just hope I’ll be able to get out of the house to go to it.
Maybe I just won’t ever go home again …
God, if only …
“Oh.” A crease forms between her brows. “Why did you seem so weird about saying that?”
“I wasn’t,” I lie. I was, as she put it, “tiptoeing around it,” for a ton of different reasons.
She eyes me over so closely I almost squirm. “I can tell you’re lying, but I’m gonna let it go for now ’cause I’m tired.”
I grin at her, and for a moment, everything is so easy, so weightless. “If I was lying, you’d never be able to get the truth out of me if I didn’t want you to.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Tell that to Blaine and the many secrets you’ve accidentally confessed to me about him. Like the time he peed his pants in eighth grade when he was watching SpongeBob and laughed too hard.”
“Hey,” I hiss through a chuckle. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
She crosses her arms. “And I haven’t. I’m just making a point that, if I want to get the truth from you, I totally can.”
I can’t help smiling at her sassiness. “Fine, maybe you’re right.”
The front porch light flips on then, and she tenses.
“Shit. I better get inside.” She reels around and rushes up the steps.
I don’t budge until she’s safely inside. Then I turn and head toward my car, the weightlessness dissipating as I face the inevitable, opening up the text messages I’ve been ignoring.
I have a ton from my mom. None from my dad, though, but that’s typical. He never verbalizes anything to me. No, he expresses his words through violence.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I read the last text my mom sent me.
Mom: You’ll regret this if you don’t get home right now.
The text was sent this morning. More than likely, my parents stayed busy with work and socializing throughout the day. Hopefully, they’ll still be busy when I get home. Maybe I’ll be able to procrastinate my punishment until tomorrow.
Me: Sorry. I’m heading home right now.
I move to open my car door but pause as she replies back.
Mom: Don’t bother. You turn eighteen in a few weeks in a handful of months so you can take care of yourself.
My heart thunders in my chest.
What?
Me: You’re kicking me out?
She doesn’t respond right away, so I slide into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and start the engine. If what she’s saying is true, then I … I really don’t know how I feel about it. On one hand, I feel kind of relieved, but on the other …
Where will I go?
Mom: Not so much as kicking you out than you’ve just decided to grow up and start taking care of yourself because you want to be mature.
I shake my head as I reply.
Me: So that’s what you’re going to tell everyone, I’m assuming.
Mom: Yep, and you’ll play along with the story or there will be consequences. And I don’t need to say what those consequences are. You’ve had them since you were five, so you know the drill. I just wish you were smart enough to realize that if you stopped doing stupid things, you wouldn’t have to be punished at all. But clearly, you’re not that bright.
I swallow hard at her words. While my dad is usually the asshole, my mother does have her shining moments.
Still, if they kick me out …
Me: What could you possibly do to me if you kick me out? I won’t be under your roof anymore.
It’s a bold move, at least for the West who lives under that roof. Everyone who knows me outside thinks I’m a bold, blunt guy. But in that house, I am weak. In that house, I’ve been beaten down into almost nothing. A ghost. I’m a ghost in that house.
Mom: Oh, there’s a lot we can do to you. Your father owns this town, and he and I can make your life a living hell. You need a job? We’ll make sure no one hires you. You want a scholarship? We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. And you’ll need those things because we won’t be supporting you financially anymore.
I ball my hands into fists until my fingernails cut through my flesh. So that’s their big plan. Take everything away from me.
Me: Why are you doing this to me? I know I messed up but taking everything away from me seems harsh. And someone could find out.
Mom: What happened last night was the end of a very long list of your screw-ups. Your father and I have been talking about doing this for a very long time, and tonight, when your father announced he’s running for mayor, we officially decided that it was time to clean up the trash in the family. Starting with our disappointment of a son.
Rage and pain wave through me, making it difficult to breathe. This night had been amazing but is quickly shattering. All those years I spent in that house, letting my dad smack me around, letting my mom verbally abuse me, I did it with the hope that one day I’d graduate and get to take off for college. I had a college fund, a future. Now I have nothing. And the sad part of it is that, even with all that, part of me feels relieved that I finally get to escape from that hellhole that I had called home.
Me: Do I at least get to pick up my stuff?
Mom: I already put your stuff out on the porch. You can pick it up tonight, and then you can meet your dad and me for breakfast tomorrow so you can inform us of your future plans on how you’ll take care of yourself. And you better have a good plan. If you don’t, like I said, we’ll make your life a living hell.
I want to say: More than you already have? But I’m too tired. And hungover. And worried about what the hell I’m going to do.
Me: Okay.
That’s all I say before I toss my phone aside and grip the steering wheel to drive forward to pick up my stuff. I’m not sure where I’ll go after that. I have some money in my wallet, enough to maybe get a hotel room for a week or so. After that, I’m going to end up homeless. But I guess I can live in my car, since the title is in my name, so my parents can’t take that away.
It was actually a present from my grandfather. He gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. He passed away not too long after that. He was the only adult in my life that I ever felt cared about me, and when he died, I felt like a part of me died.
If he were here, I could turn to him for help. But he’s not. No one is. I have no one to turn to. Not even Blaine, since we declared our friendship is over last night. Plus, I never told him an
ything about my messed-up homelife. Lex knows a little about it, but I’m not about to turn to her for help. She has her own problems and doesn’t need mine piled onto hers. The only other people who know anything about what goes on in that house are Holden and Ellis. And while they might let me crash on their couch for a couple of days, they don’t have a bunch of extra cash lying around, so they can’t support my soon-to-be broke ass.
Still, maybe I can crash there for the night.
I steer into a nearby gas station then take out my phone.
Me: Hey, can I crash at your place tonight? My parents kicked me out and I have nowhere else to go.
It takes him a moment to reply, and I grow worried he won’t, but then he finally texts back.
Holden: Yeah, that’s cool. Just a heads-up, though, my boss is over and we’re talking shop. I’ve mentioned you a couple of times, so he might try to convince you to work for him. I know you’ve said you don’t want to, but it kind of sounds like maybe your mind could be changed now. Like you might need the money.
I’m unsure of how to reply. While I’m all for rebelling, dealing drugs instead of occasionally doing them is an entirely different level of trouble.
But he’s right. I do need the money. And I really don’t have much to lose anymore. Not really anyway.
I’m all alone.
Swallowing hard, I type a reply.
Me: Yeah, okay. See you in a bit.
I’m not sure what just happened, but it feels like maybe I agreed to something. I should be more worried, but honestly, I just feel lost, like Alexis painted on the wall. Drowning in a sea of agony, fighting against the waves.
At this point, part of me kind of wants to stop fighting.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader!
Thanks for reading Signed with a Kiss: Accepting the Deal (Alexis Honeyton, #1). Please note that this is a serial series that follows the life of Alexis. There are also stories available that follow the lives of her siblings, so make sure to check those out.
Accepting the Deal (Honeyton Alexis) (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1) Page 12
