Dare You To Keep Me: HawkRidge High II

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “Because he has a dick?”

  “Yeah, because he has a dick.” My amusement laced my words at his question. His disgust was evident, and I appreciated the silent support.

  Hell, yeah, if I’d wanted to run our hedge firm I could… only, I’d prefer to stick pins in my eyes so I’d never challenged Mark Rothskind’s misogynistic beliefs—I’d willingly leave that torture to Aaron.

  He hummed. “The family firm… is it finances?”

  “Mostly.”

  “So, if you rocked, made the stock exchange your bitch and earned a fortune, but Aaron sucked ass, was the city’s bitch, and lost millions, what would your grandfather do?”

  “Bitch about Aaron not being good enough but still expect him to step up to the plate when the time came.” Though I didn’t give a shit, not really, the injustice had me working my jaw in irritation. Still, I had to concede, “Aaron, despite knowing he’s Grandfather’s favorite, doesn’t play up to that though.”

  “I’m surprised. He’s a cocky little shit. Seen him swaggering around school like he owns the place.”

  I snorted. “That’s my bro. He’s a dick, but he’s not as big of a dick as Grandfather.”

  “Do you really have access to your trust fund?”

  A sigh escaped me. “I do. All one hundred million of it.” I didn’t tell him that I’d only found out about that tonight, or that it was in jeopardy… he had enough to deal with.

  That had him choking and the car almost swerved when his hands jerked on the wheel. “One hundred million?” he rasped, shooting me a wide-eyed look. “You have access to one hundred mill?”

  Feeling good-humored by his response, not because his eyes were sparkling with greed but fear, I murmured, “Well, I get dividends.” I assumed. That’s what Mom earned, after all. “Quarterly ones.”

  “You’re young, aren’t you? To have access to that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? I thought your family would make you wait until you were twenty-five or until you were married and had your first child. That’s how it works in the movies.”

  My lips curved. “Grandfather expects us to live off our inheritance and nothing more. Once we have it, it’s ours to use and abuse, but that’s it. We won’t get a penny more.”

  He scoffed, “Who the hell could spend one hundred million?”

  That had me snorting. “My aunt? A few of my older cousins? They usually panic and start saving when their finances reach rock bottom. I think my aunty drained hers to ten million. She was crying poverty when that happened.”

  “How did she spend so much? If you get dividends, how did she access more?”

  I had to assume it worked the same way for me as it did for my mom, save for the new addition of this morality cause, so I explained, “Because the dividends come every quarter once you’re eighteen. That’s like your allowance for being a Rothskind. Then, like you said… once you get married, you can access more. Once you have a child, you can access even more. Then, when you’re thirty-five, you can have at it, and do whatever the hell you want with it.” I paused. “Of course, doing whatever the hell you want also comes with restrictions if you don’t want to run out of money. What you inherit is all you inherit. Not a penny more or less.”

  “Well, my heart bleeds for you guys only having a hundred mill each to play with.”

  I snorted at his wry tone but, running a hand through a lock of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail, mumbled, “People think that when you’re rich, you have no problems. You do, though. They’re just different. I don’t have to worry about bills, but making sure I stay within the lines of my family’s rules is—”

  Max grunted. “Jessa, don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. There are days when I’ve gone without food.”

  My eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really. My mom was a junkie.” He cut me a look. “Give me the problems from being rich than the problems of being poor any day.”

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, and even though he was fully justified in saying that, it didn’t take away the external pressures I was under.

  Sure, I had a full belly and a roof over my head but—

  Christ.

  But?

  Poor little rich girl.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d thought it about myself, probably wouldn’t be the last, either. And it was shit like that that kept me grounded, and grounded was how I needed to be.

  My mom was grounded. Sure, we had a nice house and nice things, but she was the exact opposite of my Aunty Belinda, and that was how I wanted to be. How I wanted to raise any kids I was ever lucky enough to have.

  My thoughts were a blur when we pulled up outside my house. It was still pretty early, so only the lights in the den and the attic were on—that was Aaron’s territory, and it was unusual for my douche dick of a brother to be in on a Friday night.

  Still, that was his problem. Not mine.

  I sighed, knowing this wasn’t where I wanted to be. It was home, sure, and my family meant the world to me, but my family was bigger now.

  Sam, the ass, had known where I should be. Probably even knew I’d rebel first by coming here before making the same decision he had. With a huff as I stared at the warm welcome from my home, I muttered, “Can you take me to Drew’s?”

  “Of course,” Max replied instantly. “Are you sure?”

  “Very sure.” I hummed, then winced as I admitted, “He needs to know I’m not mad at him, just his choices.”

  “What are you going to do?” he queried as he started the ignition.

  “Not sure. Rain hell on him for a little while then…” What I really wanted to do was something that wasn’t PG.

  Plucking at my bottom lip, I texted Sam and Drew.

  Me: Running late.

  Sam: You went home?

  Me: If you say I told you so, I WILL beat you.

  Sam: You and whose army?

  My mouth curved. Me: Max has my back.

  Sam: Everything okay, babe?

  Drew: What’s going on?

  Me: I went home, but I’m coming to your place now. I want to speak with you.

  Drew: Fuck.

  Me: Lol.

  Sam: Prepare yourself for the wrath, Drew.

  Drew: Double fuck.

  My lips twitched and as I read Max the texts, he chuckled. “You have those guys’ dicks in a vise, Jessa. I wonder if you know that.”

  Though he was kind of teasing, I also sensed that he believed what he said. I frowned at him. “I don’t think that’s fair.”

  He shrugged. “You know best.”

  I squinted at him. “Aren’t you opinionated tonight?” But it wasn’t really a question, more of a statement. I’d grown pretty used to Max being in the background, while still, somehow, being in the foreground too. I knew that should have been impossible, but it was the truth. He watched and saw everything to the extent that it could have been creepy. His only saving grace was the fact he was amusing, and his knowledge on Byron beat even mine.

  “Getting more comfortable around you,” he murmured, but the admission surprised me.

  “We’ve been hanging out all this time and you’re only now getting more comfortable?” I half spluttered.

  “It takes a while for me to warm up to people.”

  My eyes flared wide. “No shit, Max. Hell.”

  Because I wasn’t sure what else there was to say to that, I said nothing at all. But I percolated. Not just on him and his extraordinary statement, but also what happened with Drew tonight.

  It wasn’t as simple as forgiving Drew. God, nothing about this situation was simple. Tonight had revealed some truths that were hard to swallow. Our relationship, hell, our friendship, wasn’t as strong as I’d believed. He’d been hiding so many things from me. I’d forgiven him and Sam for keeping their ‘relationship’ tucked away. I knew Sam hadn’t cheated on me, and the connection between the two of them was theirs until it began to affect me. The fact that I wasn’t a
verse to being in a relationship with both men probably helped. So, while I could deal with that particular secret, it was everything else I couldn’t handle.

  The drugs, the situation with his grandmother… The fact he was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to earn money to help her out, but he wasn’t willing to come to Sam or me for help. Of course, I hadn’t known about my trust fund until today, but he had to have known that my mom would have helped him out in an emergency. Drew was family now. Surely he saw that?

  I was eighteen. Some might say I was too young to know my own mind, that in time, my desires and wants would change. Now, after all, was that part of a person’s life where there was some freedom to be had. A kind of glitch where experimentation was more than just accepted, it was applauded. But I knew Sam was my future. Knew it like I knew I was a Rothskind, knew it like I knew there would soon be too many zeros in my personal bank account. And even though nothing had been made official, even though, until yesterday, I’d never even mentioned knowing about Drew’s feelings for Sam and vice versa, I’d believed Drew was mine too.

  Had tonight changed that?

  I wasn’t sure. He felt like mine, but if he wasn’t on the same page as me? Well, fuck, we were reading two totally different books and that meant his happily ever after and mine were on separate tracks.

  And that?

  Frightened the hell out of me.

  ❖

  Max

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  I wasn’t averse to the silence, in fact, it was one thing I appreciated about hanging around with Jessa. She wasn’t afraid not to speak. Wasn’t afraid of sitting in peace and quiet. A lot of girls weren’t like that. In fact, most weren’t. Especially if they were around guys, and they were nervous or embarrassed or, God forbid, trying to be sexy and flirty. It was easier to giggle and chatter than it was to just sit in silence, because they feared it made them look awkward.

  Jessa didn’t care about awkward. She didn’t give a shit period, and that was just one of the ways in which I appreciated her.

  In fact, appreciation was too poor a word for what I felt for her. Christ, what I felt was very difficult for me to even begin describing. Me. A lover of the Romantics. A guy who had been reared on those ancient poets and their literary works. So, if I wasn’t prepared for this situation, then I wasn’t sure who would be.

  The truth was, Jessa had far too many men in her life and had no real need for me, yet she kept me around. While I’d said that she had the other guys’ balls in a vise, I hadn’t particularly meant it in a malicious way. She had mine too, but she didn’t even know it. I guess, more than anything, I’d been remarking upon that.

  Upon my own state where she was concerned, and the fact that she was unaware of it. At least, I hoped she was, because otherwise I’d read her wrong. Somehow, I thought that would be more devastating than anything else. Unrequited love sucked, but manipulation? By the person who made waking up in the morning a joy rather than a misery? That would be a million times worse.

  And the very fact that she did put a smile on my face when I woke up was enough to make me feel nauseated, but fuck. What could I say? She did.

  She rubbed at her temple like she had a headache. “I told you, I’ve been better.”

  Her brisk comment had me narrowing my eyes at the twilit road ahead, and though she tried to temper it by patting my knee with her other hand, I knew she’d just shut me down, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change that. Couldn’t make her talk, couldn’t make her share what she was feeling with me. No matter how much I wanted to be her rock, she already had two. I was definitely surplus, and I felt that hard truth deep in my fucking soul.

  Agitated, I focused on getting us where we needed to go.

  Drew didn’t live in one of the swanky parts of the small town of Hawk Ridge, unlike the rest of our group. He lived in a lower to middle-class suburb, one that was surrounded by thick and dense forests which provided a welcome shadow in the heat of summer. After Charlotte, and the many shitty housing projects I’d lived in over the years of my crappy childhood, I really appreciated just how green this town was, and even though Drew didn’t live somewhere like Sam, Jessa, or I did, it was still pretty dope. There were plants everywhere, pretty flowers that lined the street that headed into his subdivision, lawn that was well tended to on the verges, and no crap anywhere. Neither from illegal dumping nor just trash.

  Drew was actually more fortunate than most of his neighbors, too, since he had a larger plot, allowing for a big backyard that was fenced in to give some semblance of privacy. A state that was also helped by the fact his dad was never there. The kid couldn’t have much more privacy if he tried, but I knew what it felt like to be neglected by a parent. Knew the shitty feeling that came as a result of not being considered as ‘important’ by the person who’d brought you into the world.

  I felt for him, I really did, but I still thought his decision-making skills needed some work—using prescription meds to get through the days was just insane.

  The roads were narrow in this part of town, lush and surrounded on either side by big, bushy trees, that even to me, at this time of night, looked creepy. Darkness had already fallen, and since it was still close to summer, it was a testament to how late we’d been out. I was the only one among my new friends who had a curfew, and it was ironic that I’d gone from one negligent parent to another, but this one insisted that I was back home and under his roof at a certain time of night. Like that meant he gave a damn.

  I almost snorted at the thought.

  When we made it to Drew’s house, the second I pulled up, Jessa was out of the car and rushing toward the front door. There was an urgency about her movements that had me frowning. She hadn’t seemed panicked as we drove, had appeared relatively chill overall. But as I watched her half jog toward the door and then bang on it with both fists, I quickly shut off the vehicle and hustled after her.

  By the time I made it down the sidewalk, the door had opened, and Drew was standing there, looking perplexed as Jessa hurled herself into his arms. He shot me a concerned look, but I only shrugged because I had no idea what had triggered this, no idea at all. She’d gone from relatively chatty to quiet in the time it had taken for us to get from her home to Drew’s.

  But as I stared at them both, I saw just how badly Jessa’s shoulders were quaking as she released the night’s misery in a torrent of sobs. Beating myself up because I hadn’t realized her feelings were getting on top of her, I knew I’d been stupid for not figuring out that an emotional creature like Jessa would be heading down this path.

  It was just more proof of how wrong I was for her and how right Sam and Drew were. In contrast to her warmth, I was cold. So fucking cold. Being close to her was both heaven and hell because I recognized just how deeply that chill ran in my veins, how my past had frozen me into an apathy I couldn’t seem to get out of. I’d never wanted to be warm so much in my life as I did right at that moment.

  I knew, literally, what it felt like to be a kid looking through the shiny glass windows into a toy store full of shit I’d never get in a million years. Didn’t matter if it was Christmas or a birthday, some days, food had been a gift—I hadn’t been bullshitting Jessa when I’d said that. But now? She was that big shiny toy standing front and center on the toy store’s floor, and I didn’t have a hope in hell of ever receiving that present.

  The ache grew in my chest, and it hurt so bad I reached up and rubbed at it with the heel of my hand. Drew caught sight of the gesture, and scowled at me, but though I sensed his curiosity was genuine, his concern too, I just shook my head at him. After all, what could he do? What could he say? Nothing would make these one-way feelings easier to process, and if he knew? Christ, he might just beat the shit out of me for daring to feel anything other than friendship for Jessa.

  As I approached Drew’s bland suburban house, a house that I’d have killed to live in just a few years ago, I began hustling a sobbing Jessa forwar
d so I could close the door behind us. The powerful scent of Drew’s body spray, as well as the sight of his still damp hair and fresh clothes, told me they’d had time to shower as we’d dawdled getting here. Even as I wondered what the rest of the team had said about his little episode on the field, I shrugged it off as unimportant. This place wasn’t as bad as Jessa’s neighborhood, with its twitching curtains and overzealous and bored housewives lolling around on the hunt for gossip, but I was sure tongues would start to wag if it became known that there was a girl hanging around with three teenage boys—cue gasp—unchaperoned.

  In the city, unchaperoned meant nothing. Hell, a girl could be gang-raped in my neighborhood and nobody would do much to save her, especially if gang bangers were behind the rape. People closed ranks to save themselves, thinking selfishly, because that was how you had to be to survive in those places.

  But here?

  Hawk Ridge was a completely different place, and I was glad for that.

  I cared about somebody now, and I cared how she was treated. I’d want neighbors to call her folks if they were concerned for her. I wanted people to give a shit, and that was such a huge leap forward in the development of my character, that it took me aback.

  Until Hawk Ridge, I’d been a shitty person. Granted, I still was from time to time. I hadn’t been here long enough for the locals to have that much of an effect on me. But still, I hadn’t been good people. I’d been selfish, and that coldness in me was a self-defense mechanism. In cities like Charlotte, in districts like my own, it truly was dog eat dog. Hell, here, dogs ate fancy food, crap that cost more than the chicken nuggets I’d lived on half the time—the stuff that contained mostly chicken brains and eyes. Nothing like the ones Jessa’s mother had prepared for us while we’d been studying at her place earlier this week. That stuff had probably been from organic, free-range chicken that had been coddled from birth to death.

  Shit, that hen had probably been shown more love than I had, and if that wasn’t a depressing ass thought, I wasn’t sure what was.