by J. C. Emery
DON’T PLAY DUMB, I text back.
God, for some reason this is harder with him than it is with anybody else. Maybe it’s because he’s not playing the game like the other guys have. Daniel plays the game really well. Hell, he’s so good at it he might have invented the damn game. Normally when I try to flirt with a guy, he flirts back by taking my innuendo and running with it. But not Jeremy. No, Jeremy Whelan is the kind of guy who makes you spell it out for him and then tells you exactly how it’s going to be.
He’s a total motorcycle brat through and through. Bossy, self-assured, and a wee bit narcissistic.
He’s perfect.
NOT PLAYING, CHEY. TRYIN 2 FIGURE U OUT.
Oh. My. God.
He is insufferable. Still, the grin that spreads across my face is totally ridiculous. Because if there’s anything that’s hot about a guy like Jeremy Whelan, it’s the fact he can basically do what he wants, how he wants, and when he wants. And he knows it.
ASK ME OUT. I am so nervous that my toes could literally fall off my feet, roll away, and end up in my cereal tomorrow morning, and I wouldn’t even notice. And I know how gross that is, but that’s how screwed up I am over this stupid boy. That’s the big difference between Jeremy and Daniel. Daniel just exists and does as he pleases but invites me along for the ride. Meanwhile Jeremy is growing and learning. He’s moldable, but not Daniel. I don’t want to be with a man who has all his life figured out. I barely know how to wash my own clothes.
NO, his response reads.
My stomach drops, and I toss my phone beside me and then bury my face into my pillow. I can’t believe I just got rejected. By a prospect. This is humiliating. My phone beeps, letting me know that I have a message. Very slowly I drag my face from the center of the pillow and try to breathe normally. It’s hard, though, because my heart is beating a million miles a minute, and I think I’m about to die.
U ASK ME OUT, his text reads.
I shove my face back in my pillow and squeal maniacally. I’m done with being gentle with this boy.
WE R GOING OUT. FRIDAY, I text.
Holy crap.
PICK U UP AT 7. WEAR PINK. U LOOK HOT IN PINK. NO LIPSTICK.
Holy crap.
I’m going out with Jeremy Whelan.
Holy crap.
I stare my phone down, unable to figure out when I got the lady balls to do that. Only one thing perplexes me, though. Why the hell doesn’t he want me to wear lipstick?
CHAPTER 8
December
16 months to Mancuso’s downfall
“Are you excited?” Holly asks. I’m looking in the mirror, and she’s standing behind me. Her reflection is partially covered by mine, but I can see her well enough to tell she’s smiling.
“Yeah, I am,” I say. Because I am. I so am.
I would be more excited if I didn’t know that Dad and Holly were going to be tailing me tonight. Because Dad always tails me.
And I mean always.
At first I think he really thought I needed him to follow me on my dates, but now I think he just enjoys it. Before Holly came along, he would come in my room as I was getting ready for a date, and he would be smiling in this really unnatural way—it’s really creepy—and he would just say, “Hey there, are we ready for our date?”
The first time it happened, I thought he was joking. The second time it happened, I thought he would calm down eventually. Now I know he’s just a little bit demented. It’s all those special brownies he likes to eat.
“Is there any way that maybe you could distract Dad? Enlist some of your super special awesome girlfriend powers?”
“Girl, I don’t have enough special powers to convince your dad not to follow you tonight. Sorry. You’re going out with Jeremy Whelan. Of course your dad’s going to tail you.”
Well shit. If Dad’s being totally in love with Holly and Holly’s living here now can’t get him off my back even a little bit, then what good is this whole them falling in love thing anyway?
“Then at least keep him at a reasonable distance.”
“I will see what I can do.”
Sure enough, Dad walks into the room. His dark brown hair is greased back, and it looks almost black from where I stand. His dark eyes are gleaming, and he’s smiling that same maniacal smile I know so well. He’s wearing dark jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and his Forsaken cut. Because even when I go on dates with regular boys, Dad makes sure to follow us and let everyone know whose daughter I am.
“Are we ready for our date?” he asks. He actually is looking at me like he thinks I’m going to respond positively. I won’t do it to his face, but the moment he turns his back I am flipping him off. Asshole. I swear he deserves something bad to happen to him, like maybe he’ll walk into a wall. Nothing truly horrible because, despite how I feel in this moment, I still love my father. But, man, do I want him to suffer just a little bit.
“You’re not funny. Nobody else is smiling. And there is a part of me that thinks you hate me,” I say.
One would think that if your child tells you they’re convinced, even a little bit, that you hate them that you would stop smiling. One would think it’s the courteous thing to do. One would think they were talking to somebody other than my father. He stands there full of smiles and laughs.
I turn away from my reflection in the mirror and decide not to worry about the way I look anymore. I’m just wearing a plain pair of jeans, knee-high flat-footed boots, and a pink long-sleeved top. Jeremy asked for pink, so I’m giving him pink. And he’s so right. I do look hot in pink. The long-sleeved top is courtesy of Dad’s orders. I believe the exact words used were “if you’re not actually charging for it, then don’t act like you are.” I came close to telling him that he should take his own advice. Because before Holly, he and I both know he was no saint. The chicks he used to “spend time with” at the clubhouse sure dress and act like they charge for it. Thank God they don’t, or I wouldn’t have a college fund with how much Dad used to like their company.
“You know,” I say to Holly, “I wouldn’t blame you for ditching this one and finding somebody less crazy.” As the words leave my mouth, I realize that’s the last thing I want. I couldn’t handle it if she left. I’d track her down and refuse to leave her side. I can’t go back to the way it was before. She’s a part of us now, and I’ll do anything to keep her.
Even if that means figuring out what happened to her and Mindy on my own.
A guilty smile spreads across her face as she tosses her head back in laughter. It’s really awesome seeing her smile and laugh like this. But what’s even better is that she’s laughing at Dad’s expense. He deserves it.
Dad rolls his eyes. He looks ridiculous and like a total drama queen. If we didn’t look so much alike, I could totally ignore the fact that perhaps I probably look like a fool when I do it. But I’m a girl, and it doesn’t look as stupid on me as it does a grouchy biker. At least I hope.
“Well, out with it. I know you want to say something. First up, it’s always the speech. The speech about respecting myself and how I shouldn’t let boys take advantage of me. But I know you’re going to have an even better speech prepared because I’m going out with a prospect, so let’s not pussyfoot around it. Just say what you got to say so I can go, and just follow me like you always do, you creeper.”
Holly purses her lips, her face turns red, and she looks away. Her shoulders shake, giving away her silent laughter.
“I said you could go out with the kid. I’m not saying you can’t, but I want you to understand that he’s not just some mouthy eighteen-year-old. He’s a prospect. You should know what that means.”
“Dad, I do know what that means.”
“I don’t think you do.”
Dad is obviously uncomfortable, and I can’t really blame him. I’m not exactly comfortable either. But he’s not going to let this rest until he’s sure I know what I’m doing. Even though I might be eighty and he might be in a nursing home by the
time that happens.
“Dating a prospect means I’m dating the club. I get that. I know he might have to leave at any time, and sometimes the stuff he has to do for the club is dangerous. Give me a little credit.”
“You will never come first,” he says. “I don’t want that for you.”
“But you want it for Holly?” I fold my arms over my chest.
“Don’t want it for Holly either. But I’m a selfish prick,” he says with sorrowful eyes.
That I can agree with.
“I’m going out with Jeremy,” I say.
Dad stands in an awkward silence with an obviously uncomfortable stance. His shoulders are slightly hunched forward, with his hands on his hips and his head tilted down but his gaze to the side. I know that stance. He’s recognized defeat. The thing is I know what he really wants to say. What he really wants to say is that dating a club member, even if he’s still prospect, is a commitment to more than just a man. I’ve heard the speeches, and I know how this goes. The thing he needs to understand is that I’m ready for this.
I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I used to think there could be nothing more attractive than a man in uniform. You know, like the football uniform with the tight spandex pants. Or even the baseball uniform with the cup and the hat. Hockey uniforms aren’t really all that hot, because you can’t see anything. But I sure don’t mind watching them body-check each other up against the Plexiglas in the rink.
But that was before. Because once things started getting dangerous for whatever reason with the club and the prospects started hanging out here, I started to wonder what it would be like to date a club member. If Dad knew the thoughts that have gone through my head, he would have a coronary and fall to pieces on the floor right now.
“You’re starting to act like an adult, and I don’t like it,” he says.
I offer him a sad smile and shrug my shoulders. “And you’re starting to sound like a sane person.”
He lets out a brief chuckle before he shakes his head, points his finger at Holly, and directs her to the open door. He does a lot of pointing with her, and she does a lot of eye rolling with him.
As Holly walks past Dad, his hand comes down and smacks her on the butt, creating a loud slapping sound in the room. She gasps and turns around, giving him a dirty look. But I’m starting to figure out what Holly’s dirty looks mean. She gives them constantly. To me, to Grandma, but to Dad most especially. Holly’s look right now is one more of disapproval than of actual anger. When she’s really angry, she doesn’t even give him a dirty look. She just kind of looks past him blankly. It’s a little intimidating, and I don’t want to ever be on the receiving end of that look. So I shut my mouth, stay in the corner, and decide if she’s happy getting spanked in front of her boyfriend’s teenage daughter, then who am I to judge?
The doorbell rings loudly from downstairs as Holly is leaving my bedroom. But I can’t let her get to it first, so I push past her, offering my apologies on the way down the stairs. By the time I get to the front door, I have to pause for a moment to stop myself from hyperventilating. Did I put on lipstick? Jeremy said no lipstick. I press two of my fingers to my lips just to make sure I didn’t and thankfully find a pair of dry lips. I guess Jeremy just doesn’t like the look of lipstick or something. I don’t know, really.
Dad moves slowly but purposefully behind me, his heavy footsteps getting closer and louder with every moment.
I open the door and am met with a smiling Jeremy on the other side. My face flushes, and I lose my breath for just a moment. He’s that good-looking.
With his strong jaw, straight nose, and dark navy-blue eyes, Jeremy Whelan is hot as hell. He’s what Holly keeps calling a heartthrob. He’s what grandma called a babe. But I’m not old and I’m not prehistoric, so I’m not using either of those terms. He’s the kind of hot you can’t manufacture with expensive clothes or arrogance. No, Jeremy is the kind of hot that radiates out of his skin and infects everyone around him.
“Looking good, babe,” he says. A breathy sigh escapes me, and my face reddens. I might not survive the night if he keeps looking at me like this.
“I wore pink,” I say.
He nods and grins. “Yeah, you did.”
THE FIRST PLACE Jeremy took me on our date was the arcade. Dad didn’t make an appearance inside, thankfully. I think Jeremy chose it because he knows that it’s busy enough that we can get lost in the crowd but not so bad that we can’t even talk while we’re in there.
We are leaving the arcade when I spot Holly waving at me as she climbs out of Dad’s truck. She’s frantic, with wild eyes and her hands flinging around. My heart drops. It’s not like I didn’t know they followed me, but I don’t know why she’s out of the truck. Normally he stays put inside the truck and doesn’t bother me too much when I’m on a date. I think his objective is just to let the guy I’m with know that my dad is always watching.
Jeremy spots them and grins down at me. “We could put a show on for him.”
“You’re not funny,” I snap. “He’s such an ass.”
With an amused chuckle, he pulls me into his side and throws an arm around my neck. Our steps falter slightly as he bends down and places a kiss on top of my head. I give him a weak slap to his stomach but can’t help the budding smile that threatens to overtake my face and the blush that shows my excitement.
“What?” I mouth to Holly while looking her way. She points at the other end of the bushes where Dad is standing, his back resting against a tree. His arms are crossed, and he’s shaking his head. The fact that he’s not happy doesn’t tell me anything, because for the most part, he’s always unhappy. I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head. He’s been worse this time because it’s Jeremy. No doubt.
What an asshole.
Jeremy places his hand on my lower back and leads me toward my father. My nerves shoot to the roof, and I start to panic. I knew he would see Dad by the bushes, but I didn’t think he would approach him.
We’re barely five or six feet away when Jeremy says, “Sir.”
“Prospect,” Dad says. Holly slides up beside him and jabs him in the ribs. He doesn’t budge or even acknowledge her arrival. His eyes are hard as they fixate on Jeremy’s arm around my neck. I’m mildly uncomfortable with the attention until Jeremy clears his throat.
Dad folds his arms across his chest. “You remember the rules?”
“Yes, sir,” Jeremy says. “Gave you my word.”
“Dad,” I hiss. He doesn’t even look my way. Holly gives me a sympathetic pout and shakes her head.
“Where we going next?” Dad asks, his eyes still on Jeremy’s arm around my neck.
“Hell,” I shout in annoyance. “We’re all going to hell!”
“Chey, it’s cool.” Jeremy tightens his grip around my neck and places another soft kiss to my hairline. His voice is quiet and soft when he says, “Your dad just wants to make sure I’m doing right by you.”
Dad straightens and nods his chin at Jeremy as if he’s pleased with him. But Holly and I both know what total bullshit this is. Jeremy’s kissing Dad’s ass, plain and simple. It just so happens Dad enjoys a good ass-kissing every now and then, so he’s not calling him on it.
“Well, we better get going. Once traffic picks up, it gets harder to follow you two in the truck,” Dad says, claps his hands together, and smiles deviously.
Holly’s face turns beet red, and she looks away in obvious disbelief that Dad’s actually acting like this. She never did believe me when I told her that he’s batshit crazy. Well, she’s stuck with him now.
“Yes, sir,” Jeremy says. He’s starting to sound like a fucking robot. It’s making me want to give him a titty twister or something just to see some emotion from him. I duck out from beneath his arm, grab his hand, and give him a tug toward his bike. He follows silently. After he straps on his helmet and climbs on the bike, I get on behind him and try to ignore that Dad and Holly are behind us watching our every move.
WHEN MY AND Jeremy’s date comes to an end, it’s not nearly as romantic as I had been expecting it to be. I got a text from Daniel halfway through our date, which I ignored but Jeremy caught notice of. It took a good five minutes for the scowl to leave his face after that. I didn’t even see what it said before I clicked the screen off. And despite Dad and Holly’s following us, I didn’t think he would be so cruel as to watch our every move while Jeremy tells me goodnight on the front porch. I don’t even get a chance to ask him why he was adamant that I not wear lipstick.
I lean in for a quick kiss but find that Dad’s already clearing his throat and telling Jeremy if he doesn’t get going, then he won’t have feet to move with. As Jeremy leaves and Dad starts commenting on how well the night went, I decide it’s for the best to just head upstairs and plot my escape from this loony bin. If I stay down here with my father, he and I are going to have a huge fight, and nobody, especially Holly, is ready for that.
I’m up in my room less than a minute when my phone chimes from my back pocket. The overhead fixture above casts a warm glow of light around my room, illuminating the hot pink and black tones that have been used to decorate my personal space. Shutting the door behind me, I pull my phone out and smile at the message on the screen from Jeremy.
U SHOULD HAVE KISSED ME.
With a deep, happy sigh, I shuffle to my bed and plop down. My fingers work swiftly over the touch screen. IF U WERE HERE I WOULD.
I have barely sent the message by the time I hear the quiet clink, clink, clink of small rocks hitting my bedroom window. My phone chimes again.
OPEN WINDOW.
I can’t stop the blush that comes to my skin from just the suggestion that Jeremy might be outside. I shuffle to the closed window and peek down at the grass below, surprised that Jeremy made it past the security alarm. Dad has the entire property pretty well alarmed, especially these days. But I suppose that’s the benefit of dating a prospect—he knows where the alarms are and how to avoid them.
