by J. A. Little
I look up at him. “Really? You sure you want to do that? Last time you had my back, I nearly killed you.” It slips from my mouth before I can stop it, but it’s exactly how I feel.
“Ah, fuck, man,” Gage groans, sucking his teeth. “You gotta get over this shit. I have. We were kids.” I want to argue with him, but I’m distracted when I glance over at Brody again. “Go do what you need to do,” Gage says. I nod at him and start walking toward the douche. Gage limps along behind me.
“I thought we had an understanding,” I snarl when I reach Brody.
“Fuck you, man. Kayla came to me. Obviously, you weren’t able to keep her satisfied.”
“Bullshit! She’s here with my sister-in-law.”
Brody stands up. “Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you. In fact, I haven’t seen you with her in awhile. I knew you wouldn’t last. She just needed to get it out of her system. Looks like she has.”
“Have you been fucking following her?” I ask, feeling my entire body coiling in anger.
Brody smirks. “Just keeping an eye on her. She has a dangerous job, you know? Dealing with drug addicts and violent criminals. Don’t want her getting hurt.”
I’m gonna kill this motherfucker. Gage grabs my arm as I pull it back.
“Brother, you do that and you’re asking for a one way ticket back to that hellhole.” His voice is much clearer than it was just a few minutes ago. “You know he’ll press charges, and you can’t afford to get arrested.”
I tighten my jaw and grind my teeth together roughly. I’m so pissed, I’m fucking shaking. The irony of the fact that it’s Gage holding me back is not lost on me. Ever since the accident, he hasn’t exactly been known for his self-control.
“You’re fucking lucky,” I spit.
Brody laughs, a rich, arrogant chuckle. “That’s what I thought. All fucking show.”
Gage lets go of me. I take a step back two seconds before I see his fist land squarely against Brody’s face, his nose crunching horribly.
“How’s that for a show, motherfucker?”
“Ahhhhh, fuck!” Brody screams, his hands flying to his face and leaving him defenseless.
“This is too easy,” Gage scoffs before sucker-punching him in the gut. Brody goes down like a ton of bricks, curled up, with blood pouring down his chin and through his fingers.
“Come anywhere near Kayla again and this will feel like a fucking paper cut,” I snarl.
“Goddammit, Gage!” Lance yells from across the room. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Aww, come on. It was a reflex.” Gage laughs as Lance rushes over with a bar towel in his hand.
“Get out!” Lance snaps. “If you can’t fucking control yourself, then you can’t come in here anymore.”
“Whatever,” Gage snorts. He makes eye contact with me and smirks before heading out the door.
“You, too, Dean. Get out.”
“I didn’t fucking touch him,” I protest.
Lance shoves the bar towel at Brody and gets up in my face. “Yeah? Well, your girl just left here pissed off and in tears, so maybe you should stop fucking around and go apologize like a real man!”
My instinct is to fight back, but his words stun me. “She was crying?”
“Yeah, she was, but you were too busy being a badass to notice. You’re not twenty-two years old anymore, Dean. Grow the fuck up.”
Lance turns away from me to attend to Brody. I’m not sorry he’s bleeding. Fucker deserved it. He’s leaning back on one hand, shoving the bar towel up his nose. I wonder if he realizes that thing cleans up all the shit that’s left on the bar top. I hope he gets some sort of herpes infection in his nose.
For good measure, I make sure to step on his fingers as I’m leaving. I don’t turn around as he’s hissing, howling, and swearing behind me. I don’t even smile…much.
Gage is waiting for me outside.
“Thanks, man,” I say quietly, bending over at the waist. The adrenaline is beginning to wane and the reality of not being fully recovered from the flu is hitting me all at once. I can taste the beer I chugged coming back up. “You didn’t have to do that. He could press charges against you, too, you know.”
“Yeah. He could. I know I didn’t have to do that. I also didn’t have to get in that car fourteen years ago. But I did.” I glance up at him. “You’re not responsible for my choices, D. You never have been.”
I stand straight up and look him in the eye. His serious expression fades into a relaxed grin.
“That felt pretty fucking good, though,” he says. I chuckle and then take a deep breath. “Dude, you really look like shit. You need to go sleep something off?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I’ll be fine. I just need to figure out how the hell I’m going to convince Kayla that I’m not the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.”
Gage laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “Good luck with that.”
I smile slightly. I still need to throw up, but I’m feeling better. “Thanks.”
Chapter 43
Kayla
“Here you go, ladies,” the young woman who greets us at the door at Hudson’s says sweetly, setting down menus. “Your waitress is Felicity. She’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Emily and I both reply, taking off our jackets and hanging them on the backs of our chairs. Sitting down, I look around, feeling slightly awkward. Of course Emily would choose Hudson’s.
“So, tell me what’s going on.” Her voice has a comforting, motherly quality about it. I can see why she’s the one who usually talks to the boys when things are going wrong. I sigh and shake my head.
“It’s just been a really long week.”
Emily looks at me skeptically. “That’s all?”
I shrug.
“Let me guess: Dean?” I meet her eyes briefly and then look away. “You know you can talk to me. I know him better than most. Maybe I can help.”
“Compliments of the owner, ladies,” a waitress says, setting down two drinks. “My name is Felicity. I’ll be your server tonight. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to take your order.” I turned to see Lance behind the bar. He grins and lifts his hand. I smile at him and raise my glass, but find myself having to swallow back the emotion threatening to make an appearance. It was just last week that Dean and I were here. It feels like so much longer.
“Do you know Lance?” Emily asks.
Sort of,” I answer, taking a sip of my drink. “Dean brought me here to listen to Dirty Rebel Rejects last Thursday.”
“That’s cool. I like them. They played here last year.” I start fidgeting with my cardboard coaster while looking over the menu. I already know what I want, but it keeps me from having to talk right away. “Have you seen him since?” Emily asks intuitively after closing her own menu. “Dean, not Lance.”
“He stayed over that night,” I admit.
Emily sits back, surprised. “For the whole night?”
“Um, yeah, sort of. He bolted at like four in the morning. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“But he stayed after you had sex?”
“We didn’t,” I mumble. “I, uh, passed out before we had a chance to… I mean, he did—to me—but… Jesus, I cannot talk about this with you.” I shake my head.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not going to repeat it,” she assures.
“I know, but he’s your brother-in-law. It’s weird.”
Her hand reaches across the table, resting on top of mine. “Please don’t let it be weird. It honestly doesn’t bother me. It might if he was my actual brother, but he’s not. I’m seriously in shock that he stayed at all. Did you spend the whole night together after the gala, too?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he all weird when you woke up?”
I snort softly. “Yes. He spent the next night with me, too, but he seemed okay even if things were a little awkward at first. Why’s it a big deal?”
Emily cover
s her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Dean spending the whole night with a girl. Like ever. I mean, other than…you know, Stephanie. Wow.”
I take a drink. “I don’t know what happened. We were having a good time. I did tell the skanky blond bartender chick that we were engaged, but it was a joke to get her off his back, and he seemed okay with it.”
Emily grins widely. “You told Jodi you and Dean were engaged?” Shoving my thumbnail into my mouth, I nod. “That’s funny. I bet that really chapped her ass.”
“And he still came home with me after that. You don’t think he ran away because he didn’t get any, do you?”
Emily shakes her head. “I doubt it. I’ve never seen him with anyone the way he is with you.”
I feel hope rising in my chest, but push it down. “What do you mean?”
“He lets himself relax when he’s with you. He opens himself up more than he usually does. That’s a huge thing for him. He doesn’t get close to people outside of the Wyatt House family, especially not women—not emotionally, anyway. It’s not just a show he puts on, Kayla. I love him, but he really is a broody bastard sometimes. I have to be honest, the first couple of times I met Dean, he scared the shit outta me. He rarely talked to anyone, and he used to explode with little provocation. There’s a reason he has the reputation that he does. He nearly broke Aiden’s nose once because he came up behind him unexpectedly. The accident, Stephanie, prison—it all just kind of stripped him.” Emily stops talking when Felicity appears to take our order. After handing her our menus, I watch her walk away and consider whether I want to ask Emily the questions on my mind. I can’t stop myself.
“Did you ever meet her?”
“Stephanie? Yeah. Aiden and I started dating right after Dean got locked up. When he got out, he went straight back to her. We didn’t hang out with them or anything, but I met her.”
“What was she like?” Dean was in love with the woman, and I want to know why. She clearly had something I don’t.
“She was hard to describe. Aiden tried to prepare me, but he hadn’t seen her in years by that point. She was like a contradiction of innocence and experience. Looked like a little girl, but so obviously not.”
“No kidding. She had some other guy’s baby.”
“Oh, God,” Emily groans. “Dean was devastated when he found out about that baby. Aiden said it wasn’t all that surprising, but I think Dean was so inexperienced with girls that he just never saw it until it was too late. She was incredibly manipulative, too. She sort of oozed sexuality. It was pretty disturbing. At least to me it was, but I can see how men were easily drawn to her.”
I frown, not sure I want to “ooze sexuality.” Not the way Emily is implying.
“You guys didn’t suspect the baby wasn’t his?”
“We didn’t even know she was pregnant. Dean never told anyone. He didn’t want his parents interfering. He was worried they’d try to take the baby from her. We found out about three weeks before he was released.” A sad, dark expression passes over Emily’s features. “He was really excited.”
I feel my heart clench, thinking about Dean back then—believing he was about to be released to his wife and child only to be slapped in the face by reality.
“Okay, I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” Emily says, gulping down half of her drink. “I want to talk about you and Dean.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. He’s been avoiding me all week.”
“Seriously?” Emily gapes. “I knew there was something going on last Sunday when we took the boys shopping. He was all evasive. In his defense, though, this week was nuts.”
“I know. I mean, I figured. He texted me a couple times on Wednesday, but I overslept and was running so late in the morning that I forgot my phone at home. I didn’t get the messages until I got home from Claire’s birthday dinner.”
“Oh, yeah. How was that?”
“Disastrous.” I roll my eyes. “My stepdad was a complete fucker. He was harping on my mother all night. I’m beginning to think things are not right in that house.”
“How so?” Emily asks.
“Claire is so withdrawn that I’m wondering if she might be clinically depressed. And my mother actually flinched when Richard reached for a bottle of wine that was in front of her.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said. I haven’t lived with them in over ten years, and I try not to spend time with them if I can help it, but I’m beginning to feel a little guilty.”
“You can’t feel guilty about that,” Emily scoffs. “I’d leave and never look back, too, if I were you. It’s hard because you have your little sister, though. I get it.”
“I really need to talk to her. In the last few months, she seems to be getting worse. I can see so much of myself in her. She’s going to rebel, and the last thing I want is for her to follow in my footsteps.”
“You turned out okay,” Emily teases.
“I guess so.” I shrug. “But I nearly ended up killing myself from stupidity and recklessness in the meantime. I was a mess for a long time. That’s not what I want for her. I don’t want her to have to learn the hard way.”
Emily smiles at me. “You sound so much like Dean. You two really are perfect for each other.” I’m about to answer when Emily’s gaze shifts to something behind me. “Can we help you?” she asks.
I turn and groan. Brody.
“Hey, gorgeous. You following me?” He’s perfectly groomed as usual, hair gelled into spikes that could probably put an eyeball out. My lips curl up in disgust.
“Gross. Go away.” I scowl.
“Oh, come on, baby. Don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink.”
“Um, yeah, no.”
“We’re kinda having a serious discussion here,” Emily says, trying to help me out.
“And I’m trying to talk to my ex-girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” I scoff incredulously. “Not even close, Brody, but nice try.”
“What would you call us, then?” he asks, the wide grin spreading across his face showing his unnaturally white teeth. “Friends with benefits? Lovers?”
Emily chokes and starts coughing. I gape at him. Is he serious?
I want to kiss Felicity when she approaches with our food. “Excuse me,” she says, purposefully walking around to where Brody is standing so that he has to move. She sets down our plates slowly before leaving the table.
“Is he gone?” I ask Emily in a whisper, staring at my plate.
“Yes. Oh my God. Who was that?”
“Brody Gunther, asshole extraordinaire. I’m pretty sure that’s written on his business card, too. He was a guy I hooked up with last year.”
“He obviously thought it was more serious.”
“Yeah. Apparently.” I pick some of the sesame seeds off my bun. “But he has a heavy fist, so I walked away.” I consider what I just said. I’d never told anyone about Brody’s attack before Dean. This time, it was a little easier.
“Oh.” Emily sucks air in through her teeth.
“Yeah.” I nod and start to eat.
For the rest of dinner, we keep things light. Brody tries to send me a drink, but I send it right back. When Emily leaves to use the bathroom, I take the opportunity to get some fresh air, letting our waitress know where I’m going before heading out to the patio.
Leaning over the railing, I breathe in the cool spring air and try to tame the thoughts bouncing around and getting tangled in my head. I don’t even slow them down before I’m interrupted.
Although I’m glad it isn’t Brody, I’m not sure what to think about the Dean standing in front of me. I almost don’t even recognize him. His handsome face is pale and his jaw is covered with a slight beard. He doesn’t look well. I want to throw myself into his arms, but my feet are cemented to the ground as the voice in my head repeats over and over that he left me. He hurt me. He shut me out and walked away. He steps closer, and I want t
o push him away and pull him closer all at once. I can’t breathe with him so close to me.
I let my anger pour out, barely hanging on by a thread as he looks at me with apologetic jade-green eyes. I want to hate him for the way he made me feel, but I can’t hate him. Ever. The truth is, I’m painfully in love with him.
The realization hits me hard, nearly knocking me over. Then fuckhead Brody takes that moment to show up, giving Dean the impression that we’re together. The look on Dean’s face just before he walks away makes my heart hurt so, so bad. I should be elated—he’s jealous, he does care, he doesn’t want me to be with anyone else—but I’m not. He’s leaving—again. I want to crumble to the ground and disappear.
“Guess it’s over between you two.” Brody shrugs, watching Dean go back inside. “I figured as much. He’s not your type, Kay. I told you that months ago. Here.” He hands me a beer. I stared at it for a second and then look back to Brody, who’s smiling.
“Fuck you!” I snarl, throwing the contents of the beer in his face and slamming the glass down on the table. The few people outside with us are snickering and gaping. I don’t care. I just need to get out.
Running inside, I feel a hand on my wrist. I almost scream, but it’s just Lance.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“I’m fine,” I hiccough, unable to hold back any more. “I just need to go home. Can you tell Emily I’m outside?”
“Of course. Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” I sniff. “Thank you.”
By the time Emily reaches me, the tears are flowing freely.
“Oh, Kayla,” Emily says, wrapping her arms around me. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” I shake my head. I can’t speak. My heart is aching like it’s in a vise grip. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispers, leading me away.
On the drive back to my house, Emily keeps the music low. She keeps glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, but I’m glad she’s giving me time to pull myself together. I hate seeming weak.
Pulling into my driveway, she turns to face me. “I told him you were there with me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, my voice strained with emotion.
