Something True (Joel Bishop Book 2)

by Sabrina Stark

  Cassie leaned forward. "Get this. He kicks her skanky ass out and makes her walk."

  "To where?"

  "To the gas station. You know, where he picked her up."

  I shook my head. "I don't believe it."

  "Which part?" Cassie asked.

  "I don't believe any of it," I said. "But especially about him making her walk."

  "Why not?"

  "Because he's a lot nicer than that."

  Cassie laughed. "To you, maybe."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Look, I'm not saying he isn't a great guy. But how he treats you and how he treats Angelina are two different things." She gave me a wistful smile. "I've seen you two together, remember? He's crazy about you. Anyone can see that."

  It was a nice thought, but I couldn’t take much comfort in it. True, Joel hadn't ditched me on the roadside. But he had left my house in the middle of the night. In the big scheme of things, it wasn't a whole lot better.

  Still, there was something that I didn't quite understand. "So let me get this straight," I said. "When I told you that Joel and I were engaged, you were under the impression that he hooked up with Angelina? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because I wasn't sure it was true, and I didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure."

  I tried to laugh. "Well, you did say some things."

  She looked utterly mortified. "I know. And I'm really sorry."

  I sighed. "That's alright. Besides, you were right. Probably, I should've listened."

  But Cassie was shaking her head. "No. I wasn't right. Mostly, I was in a rotten mood and took it out on you."

  I gave her a concerned look. "Is something wrong?"

  She waved away the question. "Nah, everything's fine."

  I studied her face. I wasn't so sure.

  As if eager to change the subject, Cassie leaned forward again. "Hey, you wanna know how I’m sure that Joel kicked the skank out of his car?"

  "Sure, how?"

  Cassie laughed. "You know that chicken shack just outside town?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Well, that's where he dropped her off. She made a big stink about it too."

  "How do you know?" I asked.

  Cassie grinned. "Because I got it straight from Dorothy the Librarian, whose niece works at the chicken shack. Anyway, I'm really sorry about how I acted. I was awful, wasn't I?"

  "Nah, you weren't that bad," I said.

  She smiled. "Liar."

  As I watched, her smile faded into a look of confusion.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  Cassie was facing the front window. I wasn't.

  She said, "He's here."

  "Who?"

  "Joel."

  Chapter 35

  I turned to look, and there he was, gazing at me through the glass. He wasn't smiling, but then again, neither was I.

  Still, my pulse jumped as I devoured the sight of him. His grey T-shirt clung to his pecs and fell loosely over his waist as he stood, still and silent, watching me watching him.

  In the background, I heard Cassie say, "I'll just check on that thing in the kitchen." A moment later, I heard her footsteps receding toward the back room, where they ended with the sudden sound of the radio, cranked up to some oldies station.

  Almost in a trance, I stood and walked slowly to the door. As I did, I reminded myself of every vow I'd made over the last few days.

  I was done falling into his arms every time he showed up out of the blue. I was done acting like no matter what happened, I'd always be there, waiting like the sap I was. But was I done with him, period? As in forever? I honestly didn't know.

  My brain said one thing, but my heart said something else entirely.

  As I pulled open the door, I put my brain firmly in charge and waited for him to speak first.

  He still wasn't smiling when he said, "You got a minute?"

  Wow, a whole minute. Lucky me. I shrugged. "I guess."

  He looked toward the shop's interior. "Want to talk in there? Or in my car?"

  I spotted his car, parked at the curb across the street. A little privacy would've been nice, but why bother, given the time constraints? I gave him a thin smile. "How about right here?"

  His voice was flat. "In the doorway."

  "Sure," I said, "I mean, we've wasted thirty seconds already. The time's half gone, right?" I met his gaze head-on. "Or, does the timer start ticking when we reach your car?"

  If he was amused, he didn't show it. "There's no timer."

  Maybe not. But there was a calendar. And even though I didn't have a calendar on me, I did know that it had been several days since he'd promised to call me back. I wanted to bring it up, to demand to know why he hadn't called, and to throw his own words in his face. "If you don't answer, I'll keep calling 'til you do."

  But that would just be more of the same – me, being pathetic.

  So all I said was, "Alright. You pick – the car, here, whatever – it's all the same to me."

  With a frown, he glanced down at his watch.

  I felt my jaw clench. No timer, huh? I gave a bitter laugh. "In a hurry?"

  He shoved a hand through his hair. "Alright, you want me to say it? Yes. I am." His gaze met mine, and I saw a flash of emotion – raw and fierce, burning across the short distance. "But I don't wanna be."

  I made a sound of frustration. "Then why are you even here?"

  "You can't guess?"

  "I don't want to guess. I'm tired of guessing." My voice rose. "And why didn't you call?"

  Damn it. So much for playing it cool.

  "When?" he asked.

  "Oh, come on," I said. "You know when. You said, 'I'll call you back in five minutes.' But you never did. That was what? Four days ago?"

  He shook his head. "Didn't they tell you?"

  It took me a few seconds to realize who he meant. "Who? Steve and Anthony?" Oh yeah. They said you'd call me later. But let me ask you something. What does 'later' mean to you?" I held up a hand. "You know what? Don't even answer. How about this? I'll tell you what it means to me and practically everyone else on the planet. 'Later' means, later on that night, or maybe the next day. It doesn't mean never."

  "You think I didn't want to call?"

  He was still standing in the open doorway. Outside, the early December morning was cold and blustery – not quite freezing, but pretty darn close. Joel, like an idiot, wasn't wearing a jacket or even a shirt with long sleeves.

  Behind me, I could feel the heat pouring out of Cassie's shop. I was wasting not only time, but money too – money that wasn't even my own, at least when it came to Cassie's heat bill.

  Obviously, Joel and I couldn’t argue in the doorway forever. Besides – I felt my mouth tighten – he was in a big, stupid hurry. And what was he doing with our limited time? He was waiting for the answer to his incredibly dumb question. Did I think he didn't want to call?

  "Okay," I said. "You want an honest answer? Yes, that's exactly what I think, because if you wanted to call, you would've." Trying hard not to look pathetic, I took a deep breath and continued. "And look, it's not like I've been sitting around waiting or anything, but you were the one who told me that I had to answer the phone, so I'm just saying, it's pretty hard to answer a call that never comes."

  When I finished, he looked at me for a long, silent moment. And then, he turned his head to look at his car.

  I forced a laugh. "Oh. So my minute's up, huh?"

  He looked back to me and said, "Alright, you want the truth?"

  I gave another shrug. "I don't know. Do I?"

  His voice was tight. "Probably not."

  I stiffened. What did that mean? I didn't want to speculate, but I did want to know, so I said, "Look, whatever it is, just tell me." I lifted my chin. "Or don't. I guess it's up to you."

  He was quiet for another long moment. His muscles were rigid, and his eyes were hard. And then, he said something I didn't expect. "I was in jail."

  Chapter 36<
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  The door handle slipped from my fingers and started to swing shut between us. I caught it just in time and said, "What?"

  Joel let out a long breath. "And I just got out."

  I had no idea what to say, other than to ask the obvious question. "For what?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why were you arrested?"

  "For being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  My gaze narrowed. "And where was that, exactly?"

  "A fight."

  Damn it. I knew it. Still, hoping for the best, I said, "Were you watching a fight, or–?"

  "No."

  "So you were fighting?"

  "Almost."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means the fight was busted before I went on."

  "But you were still arrested?"

  He gave a tight shrug. "Like I said, wrong place, wrong time."

  I sighed. "You were filling in for Cal, weren't you?"

  His gaze grew intense. "I had to."

  "Why?"

  "Because I owed him."

  I knew what he meant. He owed him because of me. And as a result, he'd ended up in jail.

  I had no idea how I felt. Relieved that he had a decent reason for not calling? Horrified that he'd been in jail? Or scared to death that he was still in some sort of trouble?

  My head was swimming. It was all of those things and more. I said, "So, what are you? Out on bail or something?"

  Joel shook his head. "No. I'm out, period."

  "How?"

  "The charges were dropped."

  "Against everyone?"

  "No. Not everyone."

  It suddenly struck me that we were still standing in the open doorway. I had a million questions, but the way it looked, no time to ask them. But why was that? I just had to know. "And why are you in such a rush?"

  Right on cue, a flashy red sports car rounded the corner and squealed to a stop behind Joel's car. A moment later, the driver's side window rolled down, and his brother, Jake, leaned his head out to holler, "Nice try, dickweed!"

  With a muttered curse, Joel gave Jake and his car a quick glance before turning back to me. A ghost of a smile crossed his features. "I tried to lose him."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because I had to see you."

  And just like that, my heart turned to jelly. Did that make me pathetic? Probably. "So what are you? His prisoner now?"

  "No. But they're helping me with something, and we're running late."

  "So there's more than Jake?" The words had barely left my mouth when, across the street, Jake's passenger's side door opened, and his other brother, Bishop, stepped out of the car. He turned and gave us a long, cool look before shutting the car door behind him.

  I muttered, "Never mind. I think I know." As I watched, Bishop sauntered over to Joel's car and leaned his hip against the passenger's side door. He watched us with a look that wasn't exactly hostile, but wasn't terribly friendly either.

  I was still looking when I felt a hand close over mine. It was Joel's hand, and it felt like a warm balm to my wounded heart. I looked up to meet his gaze.

  His voice was quiet. "Promise me something."

  "What?"

  "You'll wait."

  "For what?"

  "For me."

  I had no idea what he meant. I tried to laugh. "You're not joining the foreign legion, are you?"

  "No. But there's something I've gotta do. And I’ve gotta finish it now, because it's already started."

  I felt my brow wrinkle. "That makes no sense."

  "I know. But I'll explain it when I get back."

  "When will that be?" I asked.

  "A few days, maybe a week."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. "And what do you mean by wait?"

  "I just mean, don't give up on us. Everything's a cluster right now, but I'm working it out. Just trust me, okay?"

  I wanted to trust him, but I wasn't sure where this led. I let out a long, frustrated breath and admitted a sad truth. "I'm not sure I should."

  "Why not?"

  Humiliating or not, I wanted to be honest. "Because it just seems like I'm always chasing after you, like I want you more than you want me."

  He made a low scoffing sound. "You're kidding, right? You know what it took to get here?"

  I didn’t want to split hairs, but I had to say it. "But you didn't have to come here. You could've called." I tried to make a joke of it. "I mean, you get one phone call, right?"

  His mouth tightened. "You think I'm gonna call you from jail?"

  "Why wouldn’t you?" I tried to smile. "I could've bailed you out."

  "No fucking way."

  "What?"

  "You heard me. That kind of shit? It's not for you. And I'm not dragging you into it."

  "Alright, fine," I said. "Even if you didn't want me involved, you still could've called."

  "And say what?" he said. "Shit, I didn't even want you to know."

  "So you weren't gonna tell me?"

  "Not if I could help it."

  That wasn't what I wanted to hear. "Why not?"

  "Aside from it's fucking embarrassing?"

  "Yes." I straightened. "Aside from that."

  "Alright. How about this? I'm not getting you involved, because I'm done with that."

  "You can't be done," I said, "not if you're still fighting."

  "I'm not still fighting," he said. "It was a favor for Cal. A one-time deal."

  A loud, honking sound made me jump practically out of my skin. I looked across the street and saw Jake, eyeing us with obvious impatience. As for Bishop, he was still leaning against the passenger's side door of Joel's car.

  Annoyed with both of them, I hollered out, "He'll be there in a minute. Jeez!"

  When I looked back to Joel, he was almost smiling. He said, "You forgot to call him an asshole."

  "Oh, please. I would never say that."

  At least not out loud.

  Joel gave me a look filled with regret. "The truth is, he's not completely wrong. There is someplace we've got to be."

  "Where?"

  "The airport."

  "Why? Where are you going?"

  Joel smiled. "If you wanna know, you'll have to see me again."

  My gaze narrowed. "Are you bribing me?"

  "You know it." With a low curse, he added, "And sorry, but I've really gotta go."

  "Wait," I said. "I have a question."

  "What?"

  "Will you call me before then?"

  Joel shook his head. "I can't."

  "Why not?"

  "No phone."

  "No phone coverage, you mean?"

  "No. I mean my phone's gone."

  "Like lost?"

  "No. Like destroyed."

  "Really? From what?"

  "From me."

  "Sorry, but I'm not following."

  "When things started going south, I didn't know what was gonna happen. But I did know that I didn't want anyone getting ahold of your stuff."

  "What stuff?"

  "Numbers, messages." He paused. "Pictures."

  I saw what he meant. It's not like Joel had any nude pictures of me, but he had used his phone to take quite a few pictures that I wouldn't want to see splashed across some internet gossip site. Still, it struck me as overcautious. I said, "You think someone would've busted into your phone?"

  "No. But I did think I'd rather smash it myself than take that chance."

  I had to smile. It was vintage Joel, and I loved him all the more for it, even if I couldn’t quite agree. I asked, "Are you going to get a new one?"

  "Yeah. As soon as I get time."

  Oh yeah. Time. It was something we were sadly lacking. Still, I said, "Sorry, but I've got another question."

  "Yeah? What?"

  "Why'd you leave?"

  "When?" he asked.

  "The other night."

  He gave me a look. "Is that a serious question?"

  "Of course."
r />   "I left because you locked me out."

  In spite of the cold air rushing across my face, I felt a slow warmth creep across my cheeks. "You mean the bedroom door?" I paused. "Wait a minute. How'd you know?"

  "I tried the doorknob."

  I didn't hear him try the doorknob. I glanced away. "Well, maybe I wanted some time to think."

  "Yeah? You wanna know what I wanted?"

  "What?"

  "To kick in that door and make you talk to me whether you wanted to or not."

  "You wouldn't have."

  "Wanna bet? Five more minutes, and that's exactly what I would've done." His voice grew quiet. "I knew I messed up. And I sure as hell didn't wanna make it worse."

  "So you just left?"

  "Better than scaring the shit out of you."

  I wasn't so sure. But for some reason, I did feel better. Sort of.

  When I said nothing, Joel added, "When I'm done, you gonna be there?"

  "Where?" I said. "At my house? Sure. I mean, where else would I be?"

  His voice was almost a caress. "And when I show up, are you gonna let me in?"

  I recalled all those promises I'd made to myself – that I was done waiting. And yet, I couldn’t tell him no. And even if I did, I knew it would be a lie, so instead, I murmured, "Probably."

  "Good," he said. And he turned away without even a kiss goodbye. Silently, I stared after him, wondering if I was making a huge mistake. Maybe. Maybe not.

  But I did know one thing. Stupid or not, I'd be waiting.

  Chapter 37

  "What you should do," Steve said, "is shit in a fancy vase."

  I stared at him from the other side of the kitchen counter. We'd been talking about my aunt and uncle, and their annoying tendency to show up and swipe my stuff.

  But what this had to do with using a vase as a toilet, I had no idea. I was still staring. "What?"

  He looked utterly sincere. "Yeah, and like, when they come in to steal it, splat, they get shit all over them."

  Next to him, Anthony was shaking his head. "Dude. No."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God one of them wasn't completely insane – or so I thought until Anthony added, "If you're going for the splat thing, you don't shit in a vase. You shit in a water balloon."

  Steve made a sound of derision. "Get real. You can't shit in a balloon."

  "Well, yeah," Anthony said. "Not directly. But you could shit in a bucket and fill the balloon using a pump or something. I mean sure, you'd have to add water–"