Three Hearts One Soul (The Soul Series #1)

by Botefuhr, Bec

  “Why Katie?” I slur. “Can’t handle it? It’s the truth. He wanted it. He asked for it. I gave him what he wanted.”

  “You’re acting like a whore,” she yells. “What is wrong with you? My son is dying!”

  “Yes!” I scream, storming forward and nearly tripping twice. “He is dying and he asked me to believe in him, to be there for him, to be strong. So I did that. I have been by his side even when you lot weren’t because none of you could find the fucking time to drop your jobs and your lives to spend the time with him as he died. I have been the one there when he’s been sick because of his treatment, I sat by his bedside for hours while he threw up until he couldn’t breathe. He asked me for something and I gave it to him, because it’s what he wanted. Because I care about what he fucking wants. Because I promised him I’d do whatever he wanted. That includes finding you,” I snarl, pointing at Whiskey.

  No one says anything. What can they say? They know I’m right.

  “I’m going to bed.”

  I stumble down the halls, hitting them far too many times for my own good. When I get to my room, I stumble forward a few steps, drop down onto the bed and bury my face into my pillow, feeling sorry for myself. I know my outburst was childish, but I don’t care. They weren’t around when he needed them, they only showed up when it suited them. That’s not how it works. Family are meant to be there, from the beginning. They are meant to drop everything. Now they’re blaming me.

  Well whatever. Let them. I don’t care.

  Chapter 9

  I wake during the night, my mind is hazy and my head is thumping. With a groan, I slide from the bed and grip my head as I stumble out into the hallway. I need water, badly. The house is dark and I assume everyone is asleep, who cares if they aren’t. It’s my house. I fumble my way down the hall until I reach the kitchen, I flick the light on and then dig about through the cupboards and fridge until I find some water and pain killers. I’m about to turn towards my room again when I notice the light on the front balcony is on. I slowly walk over, and peer out the window.

  I see Whiskey, shirtless, and on the phone. He’s leaning against the railing on the front porch and oh…oh my. His black jeans hug his ass in a way I can’t even begin to explain. His back is flawless, aside from the ink stretching across his shoulders and up his left side. His skin is bronze, smooth and perfect. The base of his spine has those cute little dimples and then his skin disappears into those perfect jeans. His dark hair is messy, like he’s just crawled out of bed.

  I don’t even realize I’m opening the door, until my hand is on the knob and I’m stepping out. Whiskey spins around when he hears the door and when his eyes fall on me, his hard expression seems to soften a touch. Seeing his bare chest and the bars that are threaded through his nipples has my cheeks heating. I look away quickly, and turn to head back inside but he reaches out and grips my hand, stopping me. Feeling his fingers curling over mine does crazy things to my body.

  “Yeah Wes, send it through to me, I’ll sort it out. I am out for a few days, but I’ll sort it after that.”

  Silence.

  “Yeah, later.”

  Whiskey flicks his phone off, shoves it into his pocket and then yanks my hand, pulling me further outside. I twist my wrist from his grips and cross my arms across my chest and try to ignore the curl to Whiskey’s lips as he watches me. I’m so glad he finds this all amusing, I mean honestly, the man just doesn’t seem to have a serious bone in his body. Does he even care that his brother is dying, because he sure isn’t acting like it. Right now he looks like he couldn’t care less what happened, even to himself.

  He runs a free hand through his dark mane of hair and lets his brown eyes slide over me. “Heaven grew up.”

  I cross my arms across my chest, suddenly feeling very naked. “Fuck off.”

  He frowns and crosses his arms too. “I’m sorry, but what did I do to you?”

  I snort. What did he do to me? Is he serious? Is he freaking serious? I mean there’s selfish and then there’s just…Whiskey.

  “Oh nothing much at all…” I mutter sarcastically.

  “Are you still wound up from five years ago?” he grumbles, leaning against a pole.

  “Don’t flatter yourself!” I bark.

  “I thought you were fucking my brother now anyway.”

  Ouch. My head snaps up and I glare at him, hurt that he put is so rudely. Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge considering I put it so rudely earlier on in the night. Hearing it from Whiskey though, has my heart aching. For more reasons than one.

  “Your brother is dying, does that bother you at all?”

  Whiskey doesn’t even flinch. When did he get so hard? His dark eyes scan my face and his mouth forms a hard, angry line.

  “Don’t talk to me about my brother, Nevaeh.”

  “Whatever Jarrod, I have no time for this,” I say, trying to turn and walk away but he grips my hand again, stopping me.

  “I told you not to chase me, you don’t even realize how dangerous what you were digging into was, do you?”

  “I don’t care!” I scream. “I don’t fucking care Whiskey, so stop with your big, tough, macho games.”

  His eyes flare and he steps forward. “Games?”

  “Your phone calls, your emails, your scary ‘keep away from me’ games. If you didn’t want to come back, then you shouldn’t have. Just admit you were afraid of facing all this again, instead of trying to turn this around.”

  “Is that what you think? That I couldn’t come back because I was afraid to face you? Afraid to see you in case my heart broke all over again? In case I might want to sweep you up and fuck you? In case you brought back memories of the past?”

  My heart hammers as he steps closer. He leans down close until our lips are nearly touching.

  “There’s something you don’t know about me, Nevaeh, and that is that I don’t give a fuck about you or how you feel.”

  Then he pulls back and walks around me, stepping inside and disappearing. I grip my chest as his words tear through me. I expected a lot from Whiskey, but I never saw that one coming.

  ~*~*~*~

  I am up before anyone the next morning, it probably has something to do with the fact that I couldn’t sleep. After Whiskeys hurtful words, my mind went into a frenzy. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed Whiskey, or how much he’d changed, until last night. I didn’t know if there was ever going to be anything I could about it when he seemed too far gone. My heart ached as I thought about the boy I once loved, who would have died for me. Whiskey was like that, he always had my back, always came for me when I was hurting. He was always my knight in shining armour.

  I rush down the dark alley way, knowing it was a stupid idea to run out of that bar like I did. Whiskey and Jase both told me I could call them for a ride home, but I was still angry with them after their hurtful words to me the day before. We’d gotten into a massive fight after I had accepted a date with Sam, a man that had been chasing me for a few months. They told me they didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, he was no good and I’d gotten mad at them, knowing they were just saying that because they didn’t want me dating. I wish I had listened now.

  Sam was too much. He was too touchy, too pushy and he was starting to freak me out, so I said I needed to use the bathroom and I bolted. I didn’t think to just call Whiskey or Jase from the bathroom and get them to come and get me. Instead, my pride got the better of me and I rushed out through the back door, straight into a dark alley way. Well thought out Nevaeh, really. I hurry as fast as I can, seeing the street light up ahead. When I get onto the main road I can call a cab and…

  “There you are!”

  Sam grips my arm, hurling my backwards. I cry out, shoving at him but he’s a big boy, a football player. He wraps his arms around me, pressing his body too close to mine. I squirm, feeling fear rise in my chest. It’s one of those moments I know doesn’t feel right and yet here I am, unable to get out of it.

  “You don�
�t tease and run, Nevaeh. I don’t like to be teased.”

  Teased? Is he serious? I have hardly given him a smile all night, let alone teased him. He runs his hands over my breasts and I cry out, trying to drive my elbow backwards into his ribs.

  “Ah ah, don’t fight me. You know you want this, you’ve always wanted it. What woman doesn’t?”

  “Not me, let me go you pig!”

  “Soon,” he murmurs, running his hands down my stomach.

  When he brings his free hand up, I manage to get my head down low enough to bite him. I latch on like a rabid animal and I bite down so hard I taste blood. He roars in pain and lets me go, so I scurry forward. He manages to grip my ponytail, hurling me backwards. He shoves me against the cold brick wall and he slaps me so hard I see stars. I cry out, feeling my body give way as my head swims. Then, before I can make another move, Sam is being ripped off me and thrown into the wall nearby.

  I open my eyes to see Whiskey, panting, furious and leaning down to grip Sam’s shirt. He lifts him as though he weighs nothing and uses his other fist to drive into Sam’s nose. Blood spurts out and Sam wails in pain as Whiskey lands another punch, this time into his stomach. Gurgling and groaning, Sam struggles to get out of Whiskey’s grip. The sight is truly terrifying as Whiskey drives punch after punch into Sam’s already battered face.

  “You ever fuckin’ touch her again, I’ll gut you. Do you hear me?” Whiskey roars.

  “I’m sorry man, I’m sorry,” Sam gurgles, struggling.

  Whiskey punches him one last time in the stomach and then drops him to the cold, concrete floor. Sam crawls forward, blood pours down his face. He manages to get out of the alley way and to his feet. I shake against the wall, shocked. I knew Whiskey could fight, but I’ve never seen him look so deadly, so sure of himself. He turns to me and his dark eyes are blazing with anger and fear. He stalks over, his chest rising and falling heavily, showing his fury.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to give me a fucking call. I told you not to go out with him. You never listen to me Nevaeh, do you?” he roars.

  I start crying then, big hot tears stumble down my cheeks. Whiskey stares at me, and then closes his eyes and sighs. He leans forward, gripping my shoulders and pulling me into his arms. He presses my head to his chest and strokes my hair, soothing me even though I know he’s so angry. Whiskey is like that, he doesn’t like crying and he doesn’t go out of his way to bring it upon someone, especially me.

  “Hush sugar, it’s ok. I got you. You’re ok now.”

  “I’m sorry Whisk,” I whimper. “I didn’t know he’d be like that.”

  “Next time you’re gonna listen to me Heaven, ok?”

  I nod and sink into his warmth as he holds me in the cold alley way, after coming to my rescue yet again.

  “Thinking about me? Can’t say I blame you.”

  I snap out of my memory to see Whiskey standing in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of faded jeans that he hasn’t bothered to do up. I stare a moment at the tattoo on his stomach, just above his belly button. It’s some odd shape, like a circle with all these crazy lines inside it. Like a symbol I suppose. Noticing my gaze, Whiskey looks down and scoffs.

  “Do you have to eye fuck me so obviously?”

  I jerk my gaze up and shake my head. “Whatever, Whiskey.”

  “What I said last night…”

  I shove my hand up in his face. “Don’t bother with me Whiskey, I’m not interested. I have been the one by your brother’s bedside while you and your friends threatened me to stay away…”

  “What?” he says, cutting me off.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” I grumble, bringing my coffee cup to my lips.

  “Who threatened you?”

  I huff and cross my arms. Ignoring him. No, I won’t play this game with him after the way he’s treated me.

  “I’m fucking serious Nevaeh, who the fuck threatened you?”

  He’s serious? He didn’t know I got those phone calls? How could he not have known?

  “I contacted Sarah on Facebook, giving her my number to contact you. A few days later I got a phone call, a couple of emails…I thought…”

  “Sarah contacted me, but that was it. Tell me who contacted you Nevaeh, tell me their names…”

  “I don’t have their names,” I say, putting my cup down and rubbing my arms as an eerie feeling washes over me.

  Whiskey steps forward, gripping my arm. “What did they say?”

  “To stay away from you and to stop looking or I’d pay for it. I thought…they were with you.”

  He snarls a curse and turns, storming down the hall. He comes out a moment later with his phone in hand, he madly dials a number and then storms outside. I stand, shocked. What the hell? Katie and John appear out of their rooms a moment later, great, good to see they’re all still here. When they see me, both of them smile. I turn towards the coffee maker and put another batch on, knowing they’ll all want one. Ok, so it’s my way of avoiding talking to them. I’m ashamed of my behaviour last night. It was extremely childish.

  “Nevaeh,” Katie begins. “Can we talk?”

  “So you can accuse me of shortening your son’s life again?” I murmur, while I might have acted childish, it doesn’t take away from the fact that Katie was also wrong.

  “No, so I can tell you that I’m sorry. My boy is dying and I took it out on you. I know he wanted that, he told me last night that he asked for it and it was what he wanted. You were right, you were here when we weren’t and for that I’m forever grateful to you. You haven’t shortened his lifespan, Nevaeh, you’ve kept him going.”

  I turn to face her and my eyes fill with painful tears. “I love him Katie, I would never hurt him. I feel so…”

  “No,” she cuts in. “Don’t feel guiltly. You gave him something he wanted, and it made him happy. He loves you, who am I to take that away from him? I was out of line. I was looking for someone to blame.”

  “Is he ok?” I whisper.

  “He’s on oxygen, and they want him to stay at the hospital, but he’s ok.”

  “He didn’t even get one night at home,” I say in a strangled tone. “Not one.”

  “It’s the best place for him to be Nevaeh, he needs the care.”

  “He should be able to die where he wants, not where we want,” I yell, feeling my frustration get the better of me once again.

  Katie nods and touches her chest where her heart is. I know how much she’s hurting, I couldn’t imagine losing a child. Before we speak anymore, Whiskey comes charging into the house again. He storms into the kitchen, grips my arm and snarls. “Come with me.”

  “Nice to see you too, Jarrod,” John mumbles.

  “Not now dad, fuck.”

  Whiskey pulls me down the hall and into my room, then he slams the door and turns to me. His face is full of wild rage and he’s panting. Well, excuse me. I am quite over Whiskey’s mood swings.

  “Show me those emails,” he barks.

  I raise my brows. “Is there a please in there?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Nevaeh.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Whiskey.”

  I cross my arms and his eyes widen.

  “You’re not seriously going to make me say please, are you?”

  “Yes, I am,” I say, titling my head to the side and raising my brows.

  “Well I won’t, so show me or I’ll use force to make you.”

  I snort a laugh. Or I’ll use force. Honestly? “Really, you’re going to force me?”

  He lurches forward, catching me in his arms. Before I know it, he spins me around and crushes my back to his chest. He’s so strong, I never realized how strong until now. He pins my arms by my sides and shoves me forward towards my laptop sitting at my desk. When he reaches it, he leans down, opens it and turns it on. When the password comes up, he barks. “Type it in.”

  “No,” I say, my voice full of determination.

  He squeezes me tighter and I whimper as t
he pressure becomes too much. I guess in a way, this is my little test. The Whiskey I know and love, would never hurt me. It’s a huge risk, but I want to see if he will now. It will answer so many of my questions.

  “Type it Nevaeh,” he barks.

  “I said no.”

  He leans down and bites my shoulder. I squeal and swear at him.

  “Type it.”

  “Say please,” I grate out, feeling the burning pain in my shoulder spreading.

  “No, type it.”

  “No.”

  He hurls me backwards, spinning me so quickly my head does a dizzy dance. He slams my back against the wall and puts his hands either side of my head, leaning in close. I can smell him and oh, even through my anger, it’s a good smell.

  “Why are you testing me, Nevaeh? What sort of game do you think you’re going to play with me, huh? Did you not hear me last night? Did you not understand when I said you mean fuck all to me? I don’t want to hurt you, and I know you’re pushing to see if the old me is in there but he’s not. You don’t know me now. You have no idea what I’m capable of. Do as I fucking ask, because I will hurt you if you don’t.”

  His words burn, they burn and yet my body still wants to jerk to life and press against him, because oh, I want him so badly. However, he will soon learn I’m not a little pushover anymore. As much as I don’t want to, I make my next move count. I jerk my knee up, hitting him right in the groin. Roaring, he stumbles backwards and lands on his ass. I stalk over and loom over him, hurt that he’s hurting, but not showing it.

  “You wanna hurt me Whiskey, fine, hurt me but I will not just do as you ask because you threaten me. You can go to hell.”

  I step over him, but he grips my ankle, jerking me so hard I stumble backwards and land with a thud on the floor. With an angry groan, he flips his body so he lands on top of me, pressing my body into the carpet. Oh Jesus, he’s meant to be in pain and yet he’s fully erect. I can feel him pressing into my core. Does violence turn him on now? It wouldn’t bloody surprise me.

  “You kicked me in the fucking balls,” he rasps.

  “You deserved it and I’m not going to be anyone’s push over, not even yours,” I whisper, staring at his lips. God, look away from them Nevaeh. You might as well scream that you want him.