Hu Money: A Forbidden Bully Romance (The Dirty Money Duet Book 1)

by BL Mute

  “Lydia! Come tell me how your first day went, honey.”

  I groan and slap a fake smile on my face before I turn around. As soon as my eyes meet my mom’s, the guilt of what I’ve done comes crashing back into my chest. I felt bad before, but actually having to face her, looking in her eyes, makes me realize just how wrong all of this is.

  I cringe internally with the thought, because no matter how much I keep telling myself it isn’t right, I still keep doing it. It’s like my mind is on one wavelength and my body is on another. I need the thrill. I need the adrenaline. I need the fucking escape.

  I try not to let my smile falter, but it doesn’t work, and I can tell by how her face morphs into concern. “Oh, honey, what happened?”

  I feign tiredness. “Nothing. It was okay, a lot to learn, but it wasn’t bad. I’m just tired.”

  She nods. “Well, I have some errands to run, so I’ll be leaving soon. I was going to ask if you’d like to come, but if you’re tired, get some rest. We can plan another day to hang out. I’ve missed you so much.” She gives me a sad, tight smile.

  “Yeah, Mom. Another day,” I reply, turning back to the stairs and rushing up them.

  When I make it to the safety of my room, I lean against the door and slump to the floor. I can’t believe I stood there and had a short conversation with her while his smell is still on me. I can practically still feel him on me, and I need it off.

  I strip out of my clothes quickly, then walk to the closet and grab a new set of clothes. My new closet isn’t as big as my last, but it still serves its purpose well. And thanks to my mom, all the clothes I left behind are still perfectly organized and color coded. I grab a T-shirt and more comfortable shorts, then head to the bathroom. Before I open the door, I knock lightly. With no reply, I step in.

  The floor starts to heat immediately as I flip on the light and place my bare feet on the tile, and my shoulders relax. “Alexa, turn on the shower.”

  The water starts with my command, so I grab a towel from the small linen closet and lay it on the counter along with my clothes.

  When I step into the stream of water, it’s colder than I like. I roll my eyes and adjust it manually. Sharing a bathroom with Carter will be an adjustment, but I’ll just deal with it. The sooner I can save some cash and get back out of Bexley Falls for good, the better.

  I lean my head back, letting the water coat every strand of my hair and run over my face. I stay locked in the same position for a moment, forcing every last bit of Malcolm’s touch run off me with the water and down the drain. I can practically feel the dirtiness slip away, and it brings me peace.

  When I finally raise my head and open my eyes, I look to the small shelf built into the shower and notice all my normal hygiene products are gone. I’m not surprised considering everything else of mine is moved or gone too; I’m just annoyed. I pick up the basic black bottle that reads “men’s three-in-one” and almost laugh. This has got to be a fucking joke, but it’s better than having Malcolm’s touch lingering on me.

  I squeeze a good amount into my hands and lather it into my hair. I use the suds falling from my head to scrub the rest of my body, paying extra attention to between my legs. I don’t want any trace of him left by the time I’m done.

  Once all the bubbles are gone and my skin is practically raw, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel. I wipe the steam from the mirror and examine myself. I thought I would look different, or maybe the guilt would be depicted all over my face. Something, but I’m just the same. Nothing is different. Everything is the same, and that scares me. If I can look the exact same and lie to everyone with ease, how long will this last? How long will I let this continue?

  I’d like to think I would end shit before it got out of hand, but my mind and body seem to be disconnected. And maybe that’s the thing with pleasure. It doesn’t matter how wrong you know it is, or how bad it could end, all you care about is the complete bliss it will bring you in that moment. And no amount of punishment, fallout, or consequence can top it.

  I grip the edge of the counter and close my eyes before taking in a breath. The smell of Carter fills my nose, and another twinge of wrongness pulses through me. Mac told me to stay away from him, which I didn’t think would be a problem, but the smell of him alone comforts me.

  I’m not sure why considering he’s a complete asshole, but it doesn’t change the fact it does. Maybe it’s more the memory of the friend I had in Carter than the Carter I know now. The smell just reminds me of that. Puts him in the forefront of my mind where he shouldn’t even be.

  I shake the thoughts away, then grab my pile of clothes from the counter and go back into my room. I make sure the bathroom door is closed behind me before I drop my towel. I step into my shorts, then pull my shirt over my head.

  Fully dressed, I walk to my bed and fall into the mattress. I swipe my phone from the nightstand and dial Carmen’s number. I haven’t been home long, but I still haven’t got a chance to see her. When it rolls to her voicemail, I sigh.

  I know there is no emergency, but I need my best friend right now. I need something that feels normal now that everything else is so different. I lower the phone from my ear and type out “911” before hitting Send.

  As I wait for a reply, I chew my lip and open Spotify. I let my music play and get lost in it. I’m so consumed by all the lyrics and beats, I almost don’t hear the doorbell. I leap from my bed and run out of my room. I take the steps two at a time, hoping like hell I don’t trip until I hit the bottom.

  My bare feet bang against the marble floors as I close the distance between the bottom step and front door. When I throw it open, Carmen stands on the other side with a worried look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, letting the concern flow with her words.

  Tears well in my eyes as I stare at her for a moment. With everything that’s happened in the past year and how much things have shifted, she’s remained the same. Her long black hair smells like honey as I pull her into me. I squeeze my eyes tight as I inhale her scent and try to pretend shit is the exact same as it always was.

  “Nothing. Nothing is wrong, I just needed you.” I sob.

  She pulls away from me, placing her hands on my shoulder, and studies my face. “Lydia, I haven’t heard from you in almost a year, and now you need me?”

  The concern she voiced earlier is gone and replaced with anger. “I know,” I mumble, then shoot my eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know. I was fucked-up, dude. I was sad, and angry, and I hated myself.”

  She crosses her arms and tips her head. “Hated yourself for what?”

  I want to tell her the truth. Tell her what I was doing when my dad died, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I know Carmen is the last person who would judge me, at least I think so, but what would she say if she knew now that I’m back I’m continuing the same shit?

  “I just thought I could have been a better daughter, you know?” It isn’t a lie, simply only the half-truth.

  “I was your best friend though, Lydia. I get you were hurting, but in the process, you hurt me. Fuck, the only reason I knew you were home was because your mom told me. I should have heard it from you.”

  “Was? No, you still are, Carmen. I was just sick of this town, but I was never sick of you.”

  She scoffs. “You sure fucking acted like it.”

  “Carmen,” I plead. “Please just come inside.”

  I watch as she worries her bottom lip, thinking of how to reply. “Fine. But I swear to God if you ever drop me like that again, I will hunt you down just to slap you. How you need me now, I’ve been needing you.”

  I pull her into another hug, trying to dissolve some of the hurt she is expressing and feeling. “I’m sorry, okay? And I’m here now.”

  I feel her nod before she steps back, separating our bodies. She wipes a single tear that fell from her eye and gives me a weak smile. “Let’s go smoke and hope your mom doesn’t catch us.”<
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  I laugh. “She isn’t home.”

  “Even better,” she announces, pushing inside past me and up the stairs.

  And just like that, the normalcy I was wanting is back.

  I shake my head and follow her up. Carmen and I hardly fight. She and I are polar opposites, but I think that’s what helps us get along so well. We break up the sameness of every other person in this fake-ass town. We don’t have to watch what we say around one another in fear of upsetting each other, and when or if there is a fight or argument, it’s always solved with a simple apology. Something most others aren’t capable of doing because their egos are too big.

  When she makes it to the top of the stairs, she goes to Carter’s door and opens it. I guess it hits her things aren’t the same as she goes to step inside. “What the fuck?”

  “Long story. My room is next door now.” I point to the door a little way down the hall.

  She raises an eyebrow as she closes the door and heads down the hall. When we are in the security of my room, I close the door behind us and walk to the window. There is no seat like my old room, but it’s fine. I push it open, then sit on the sill, patting the other side.

  Carmen joins me and pulls a cigarette pack from her purse. As soon as she opens the top, the smell of Mary Jane fills the small space. “So, who the fuck stole your room?” she asks, tucking the joint between her lips.

  I snatch the pack from her hand and pluck a cigarette from it. As she rummages through her bag for a lighter, I answer her question. “Carter,” I say flatly.

  The joint falls from her mouth as it gapes open. “Carter as in Carter McLane?”

  I nod and grab her purse from her lap. I find the lighter easily and use it to spark my cigarette. I take in one long drag before blowing the smoke out the window. “Yep. You didn’t know they moved in?”

  “They? No. I mean, I knew your mom and Malcolm seemed to be getting close, but I assumed it was only for business. You know, the club.” She waves her hand around.

  I take another puff. “Well, she and Malcolm are married, and they live here.”

  “You’re kidding!” she squeals. “I had no idea.”

  I look out the window as I tap the cigarette onto the sill, letting the ashes fall down. “Yeah. It’s been an adjustment.”

  “I bet. I guess people are better at keeping secrets than you would think,” she remarks.

  “You have no fucking idea,” I mumble.

  “Well—” She takes the lighter from me, then moves the joint back to her lips. “—how has it been?” She lights the joint, the aroma of the weed getting stronger.

  “Fine, I guess. Not the best considering the prick stole my room and I’m forced to share a bathroom with him, but it could be worse.”

  She coughs, smoke billowing from her mouth, and beats on her chest. “I can’t believe your mom let him have your room.”

  I shrug and take the joint in my free hand. I take a small drag and hold it in for a second before releasing it. “It’s whatever…” I trail off. “I’m working at the club now too.”

  “Fucking hell. They really wanted to turn shit upside down for you, huh?”

  “Seems that way.” I take one more puff, then pass it back to her.

  “What about Malcolm? Have you got to see him shirtless?” She grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

  I slap her arm, then throw my cigarette out the window before standing quickly. “Gross, Carmen. He’s my stepdad now.”

  As the words leave my mouth, the weight of them sinks into me. Stepdad. I’m fucking my stepdad. I shiver with the thought.

  “I’m just joking, bitch. He is kind of hot though. How old is he again?”

  I roll my eyes and try to ignore her. I know she doesn’t mean anything bad with what she’s doing, but all it is doing is making the guilt I’m trying to keep buried resurface.

  “He’s gotta be like… forty-five or something. Carter is our age, but doesn’t he have an older son? One that just disappeared off the face of the earth after their mom, you know.” She drags her thumb across her throat. “Anyway, what was that kid’s name?”

  “Cyrus,” I reply, monotone.

  “Yeah, Cyrus. Wonder what happened to him.”

  “I don’t know, but can we please change the subject. I already have to live with them, I don’t want to spend our time talking about them.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Tell me how it was with your uncle, then. Meet any sexy men?” She grins.

  For the next hour, I tell her about Jake and exaggerate a few details. I leave out all the dumb shit I did too, and she doesn’t question if I’m lying. She never does. Carmen has been my friend for a long time, and when I say something, she believes me. My word is as good as the bible to her because friends don’t lie to each other. Right?

  So, does this mean I’m a bad friend, then? Or am I just protecting myself?

  “I have to head home before William starts to worry. Walk me out?”

  I nod and stand from our spot on the floor where we ended up after smoking. I extend my hand and help her stand. “I really did miss you, Carmen.”

  She picks up her purse and throws it over her shoulder with a smile. “I know. I missed you too.”

  We let the silence surround us as we walk out my door. As we start down the stairs, we meet Carter halfway as he walks up. Luckily, he doesn’t say a word. He just pushes past us, up the rest of the stairs and into his room.

  “That’s going to take some getting used to,” Carmen says when we reach the bottom.

  “Tell me about it.” I open the door and kiss her cheek before she steps out. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

  She gives me a corny thumbs-up as she slips into her Bentley. I laugh, then close the door behind me. I head back upstairs and into my room. I close the open window to kill the cold breeze blowing in, then go back to my bed. I sit on the edge and start my music again.

  With Carmen gone, everything is too quiet, and it lets my mind wander. So, I let myself get lost in the beat of every song again until I lie back and sink further into the mattress.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CARTER

  Today work was different. Normally, I focus on getting my own shit done and making sure all the other employees have what they need. I knew Lydia would be starting yesterday, but I wasn’t expecting it would be me training her.

  After the message my dad gave me the previous day before dinner, I knew I needed to keep my distance. But if he were so hell-bent on me staying away from her, why would he make me be the one to show her the ropes at the club? Unless it was something out of his control. Something Claire set up without him knowing or made it to where he didn’t have a choice.

  Claire is good at that. Mac won’t question her decisions most of the time, and she thinks Lydia and I are still friends. She probably wanted her to feel comfortable her first couple of days, but I showed her enough yesterday. She was on her own today because the entire time I was showing her how shit goes, all I could hear was my dad’s voice echoing in my mind from the first night Lydia was home.

  “She’s you’re fucking sister now, Carter. If I so much as catch you looking at her again, let alone speaking to her how you just did, I will show you just how bad I can be.”

  I didn’t know he was there and listening when I was teasing her about having a nice ass as we went down the stairs, but I’m a fool to think otherwise. Mac always has a way of knowing everything before the thought can even formulate in your own mind.

  As I pull my car around the drive and hit the garage opener, I try and focus my thoughts somewhere else. I always make sure to come home after Mac is already in bed. I learned his schedule at a young age. Men like him like routine, and that’s nothing but a perk for me.

  On Tuesdays, he usually hits the club—and I don’t mean the country club—and those are the nights he gets irate and hits me harder, so I make sure to stay away from the house as long as I can. I find a friend’s house to hang at or one of the
many girls begging for my dick. I don’t like sticking around long, but I make sure it’s long enough to avoid Mac.

  He usually leaves work around three and heads to the club, which means by eight, he’s drunk and ready to come home. As I creep into the garage, I see his G Wagon is already sitting in its spot. I glance to the clock on my dash and notice it’s already midnight, which is good. He’s probably in bed.

  I park my Lexus next to his car before turning it off and stepping out. I walk to the door that leads inside, then hit the button on the wall, closing the garage back. Not only am I happy Mac will be in bed and I can avoid him when I walk into the dark house, but I’m glad Lydia is probably asleep too.

  I don’t understand why he is so set on me staying away from her, but I won’t question it. It’s easier to just listen and agree rather than argue. Another thing I learned at a young age.

  I mean, it never used to be like this when my mom was alive or Cyrus was still around. My dad actually seemed halfway happy back then, but it’s been ten years.

  The day my mom committed suicide, no one could believe it. I was only eight at the time, and I had a hard time wrapping my head around it too, and that’s when Mac changed. He’s always been hard and temperamental, but when my mom was around, it wasn’t so bad. She was a literal angel compared to him, and their relationship worked until it didn’t. Until she couldn’t take any more.

  When I was six, she told me how they had met. She said they were fresh out of high school when her parents kicked her out. She didn’t have most of the luxuries I or other kids in Bexley Falls have, so she would clean houses to make enough cash for food and a hotel room for the night. Anyone who would give her a chance, she would work for.

  When my dad saw her walking down the street carrying all her cleaning supplies, he offered her a ride. She said the rest was history, but I just think that was her way of dodging the dirty details, and I don’t mean sex.

  The ones where I would hear her screaming at night. Or the times I would peek under their door and see him standing over her with balled fists and bloody knuckles. I didn’t realize it until I was older, but that’s the only reason things weren’t so bad. She would let him take his anger out on her instead of us.