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Finding Fate

Page 3

by Charisse Spiers


  The security light comes on as I walk within range of the sensor, giving me enough light to shuffle through the few keys on my key ring to find the house key before shoving it into the hole and unlocking it. Turning on every light on the way to my room, I walk inside and grab the first suitcase I find. I barely have it unzipped and open on my bed before grabbing shit left and right and throwing it inside.

  I don’t really have that much. I left anything of real value at my dad’s house. Most of the clothes I have here I’ve bought since I moved out on my own. And if it’s easily replaceable, like toiletries, it’s staying here. The less I take the sooner I can get back to Maddox.

  The day I got my high school diploma I said I’d stand on my own two feet. That way my dad can’t control my life anymore. In less than thirty minutes I have a large rolling suitcase full and zipped and a duffle bag with the rest, both side by side on top of my bed. I walk around to the opposite side and lift the mattress, reaching between it and the box spring to grab the zipper pouch that stays here, moving it to the front pocket of my suitcase.

  The frame on my nightstand catches my attention. I grab it and hold it in front of me—the two of us in our swimsuits on his dad’s boat. He had his shades on with a big-ass grin on his face. His arm was wrapped around my tiny waist while I snapped the photo. His parents went out of town for their anniversary, so Maddox wanted to go stay at the camp for the weekend and spend it on the river. I told my dad I was going with Mandy—my best friend in school—and her family to Orange Beach for the weekend so he wouldn’t drive by her house. Lying came easily during the time I was with Maddox, but I wouldn’t take back a second, even knowing it was wrong in ways.

  A pinched feeling at the back of my neck causes me to slap at the skin in case it was a mosquito or gnat biting me. Those damn things find their way inside in the south regardless of what you do. Maybe I should have left my hair down earlier at Maddox’s, but with sex comes sweat, and it was starting to stick, so I put it up in a loose top knot bun.

  I drop the frame as I sway on my feet. “Shit.” When I bend down to get it I nearly fall over. Dizziness washes over me. What the hell? I close my eyes, trying to make it go away. I force myself upright and turn around to sit on my bed for a second, my eyes landing on a dark suit I’d recognize anywhere. He comes toward me. “No.”

  Maddox.

  But before I can fight or run, everything goes black.

  Three

  Riggan

  I turn the rental car down the road to Maddox’s house, or his parents’ house, but as little as they’re here anymore it might as well be his. It’s time to get started for the airport or we’re going to miss our flight, and I haven’t gotten so much as a text from Maddox since he was in a rush to get home last night after the concert, which is odd. He usually sends some dumbass text joking around at least once a day. I didn’t even get a response when I asked if he was ready, yet it says he read it.

  My eyes land on him sitting on the porch steps, shirtless, and hunched over with a bottle in his hand as I pull the Yukon into his driveway and shift into park. “Is that liquor?” Sayler asks. “Is he okay? It’s not even lunch yet.”

  “What?” Presley pipes in from the backseat, before peering between mine and Sayler’s seats to get a look. He hasn’t even looked up at us.

  I look through the rearview mirror at Konnor, knowing something is wrong. Maddox only drinks beer, and the only time he does any day drinking is if he’s out with friends doing something social like a football game, or on the boat at the river, or on vacation or the like. The last time I saw him drinking whiskey was right after he came back home after he finished out his senior year at another school in another state while staying with his older brother Micah. He was fucked up for a long time over her before he started acting like himself again. If the bitch ditched him, I’m gonna kill her, or better yet, make her wish she were dead.

  Konnor’s eyes are locked on mine. “Can you find her if I need you to?”

  He nods. “Yeah, I can call her roommate if I have to.”

  Presley huffs dramatically. “Let’s just bring back all of our bad memories in one amazing weekend.” Her tone is dripping with sarcasm.

  “Pres, come on,” he says. “Don’t be like that. I haven’t talked to her since I moved out last summer . . . over a year ago.”

  She sighs. “I know. That doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about you calling someone from your little black book.”

  “I am not a good memory for her. I was a dick to her because I wanted you. Gabby, on the other hand, is my friend like Ryland is yours. Except we never actually hooked up, despite what I made it look like. We talked all this out last night, right before I reminded you why you’re the one having my kid.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry,” she whines. “I just need an adjustment period.” I turn my head to the right at the same time she looks back to the front from where she’s perched in the middle between Sayler and me with an arm on each of our seats. She looks at me. “Not a word. You have zero room to judge.”

  “Wasn’t going to. But I can offer a little reassurance. I can’t speculate on the roommate, since I don’t know her, but Gabby is not a threat to you, regardless of what shit went down with her and Konnor back then. And I’m telling you now, if you want to keep all of your birds in the nest, you gotta figure out a way to like her, because Maddox will go where Gabby is. That girl has been wrapped around his cock and heart since she was thirteen. He’s very stingy with her. Y’all talk about me being psycho over princess over here, but Maddox hides his jealous side well, because only one girl brings it out. He kept her away from us, like one of us would actually try to take his girl. She was fourteen and he eighteen when her rich daddy put on a shit-show and threatened to press statutory rape charges on him. None of us have anything on them. They are more jealous over each other than any of us put together. If not for her prick of a dad, those two would be married with kids by now.”

  She frowns. “Maddox’s room is on the third floor, regardless of who he chooses to share it with. I’ll deal with my insecurity.”

  “Pick one word to describe Maddox.”

  “Happy.”

  “Does that look happy to you?”

  She looks toward the house, her eyes immediately softening. “No.”

  “She’s back in the picture one day and this is what you get when she’s gone. She gripped that motherfucker by the balls and never let go, but it goes both ways, which is why she ran out crying yesterday. You don’t easily move on from someone when you were torn apart.”

  “What is he doing? He hasn’t even acknowledged that we’re here.”

  “He’s drowning her memory, and considering he fucked her before the show, that’s not good.”

  I reach for the door handle and go to get out when a tug occurs on the side of my shirt. Sayler’s bottom lip is trembling and her eyes are glossy. “Rig, you’re worrying me. He doesn’t look good. That night we . . . When he . . . Is she—”

  “Yes. Her natural hair color is blonde. That’s why I didn’t recognize her. The way she looks now is more on our level. She comes from money just like you two.”

  “Can we fix them?”

  “We can try.” I lean in to kiss her. She’s developed an attachment to Maddox since the night in the basement when he saw her insecurity firsthand. Then came Maddox the teddy bear. The one that cares about people—like keeping my mother informed about me. That’s why everyone loves him. He and her have their own weird little relationship. Part of me loves her attachment to my best friend. The other part hates it. The bigger part likes it, though, because no one wants his girl and best friend to hate each other, so I let it go. If I trust the fucker with my life, I’ll trust him with my wife. “I’ll be back.” As I open the door I glance back at Konnor. “Find her.”

  I shut the door a little too hard behind me, before making my way down the sidewalk, toward the porch, and climb to the top of the steps to sit beside him. I
snatch the bottle out of his hand when he attempts to bring it to his lips and throw it out into the yard as far as it’ll fly. Half of it is already gone. I hope it was something he found already in the cabinet and not a brand-new bottle. His tolerance is built for beer, not hard liquor. “We’re not going back to this shit. Numb and medicated aren’t the ways to live. We’re better than this. You helped me. I’m going to help you. What happened with Gabby?”

  He leans over and puts his arms to his knees, placing his forehead to the heels of his hands. “Oh, you know how it goes. I put my heart on the line. Asked her to move to Miami with me. We made love all night. Then I woke up to a cold bed and her phone is turned off. Didn’t even get a goodbye. The girl I gave everything to left in the middle of the night like I was a one-night stand.”

  His angry tone breaks and he starts to cry, his shoulders shaking. “Goddammit. She makes me a pussy. My chest is so tight it hurts. I feel all anxious and shit. Makes it hard to breathe. She acted like we were on the same page. Like she wanted this as much as me. We were finally getting a do-over. Do you know what that’s like? To be so addicted to a fucking cunt and have to go without it. Then, when you finally get it back, it walks away.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? She’s knocked up in the truck.”

  “Sometimes I wish I had knocked her up. Maybe then her dad would have left us alone. It’s like we’re being punished for the year we were born in.” A humorless laugh slips. “Jesus. I’m losing it. Who wishes for shit like that?” He looks at me, his cheeks flushed red and splotchy, a layer of wetness on top. “What’s wrong with me, Rig? Give it to me straight. I don’t have issues getting in girls’ pants. One blows my phone up from time to time wanting more, but I can’t give anyone else more. The one girl I want I literally can’t have, no matter how good I become, or how hard I try. Nothing is ever enough. I feel like I could kill someone right now.”

  He looks weird with tears. They don’t really belong on a man his size. Maddox is nothing but solid, hard-earned muscle on an already bigger frame than mine—wide shoulders, thick chest, big arms, back muscles for days, yet we can wear the same size jeans. Watching him climb a tree is impressive.

  I sigh, hating this side of him, and it’s been so damn long. It makes him vulnerable. Last time he got like this because of her he went on a girl binge trying to get over her, hoping the next one would be her magical replacement. Fucked everyone attractive that spread her legs. Then the guilt came over it and so did the excessive drinking. “Nothing. You’re everyone’s hero and you know it. Mr. Personality. Most handsome. Life of the party. Weren’t those the dumbass categories you were voted for in the yearbook. You’re loyal and supportive of those you care about. Stop trying to be the golden boy hoping it’ll get her back. If her dad is too ignorant to see that you’re the best man for her then fuck him. At some point, she’ll either stand up to him or you’ll meet someone that makes it all irrelevant.”

  He wipes his face on his shoulder, trying to calm down. “She said she hasn’t fucked anyone else. Just hooked up here and there. The face of every girl I’ve been with since her flashed through my mind the second she told me. The guilt was so heavy I could barely breathe. Felt like I’d cheated on her. I snapped at her—pissed her off. I panicked when she started to walk out the door. Six years apart and didn’t let one single guy stick it. Even with unnaturally black hair she’s hot enough to get any guy. Her body is better than when I left it. From every angle that makes her mine, but if that’s the case, then where is she?”

  Six years is a long time to go without sex if that’s true, especially when you were having regular, normal sex before, because Maddox doesn’t have a low sex drive. He hasn’t since he hit puberty. He had sex with Gabby gone much more frequently than me with Abby gone. He sure as hell didn’t let her age stand in his way. She said yes and that’s all that mattered. He was only seventeen and eighteen at the time. All teenage boys want to do is shove their dicks into something wet. It makes things a lot more confusing. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe she needed some space.”

  He laughs. “Space. That’s all she’s had.” He glances around, silence lingering in the air. “You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go. I’m ready to go home. There’s nothing here for me anymore. If she wants me she can come looking.”

  With that he stands, his bare feet padding down the porch steps. “You can’t board a plan like that.”

  “Then find me a shirt and shoes. If I have to look at that bed again after last night I’m looking for more alcohol, and since you threw out Landon’s bottle he left last time he was here before I got good and drunk, you’re going to be the one to babysit my ass during the flight when I find it.”

  My mouth tips and I stand, already making my way to open the door. If the little demanding asshole starts coming out, there is hope. The golden boy he pushes to be when he’s thinking too much can go to Hell. Savage Saints—we didn’t just pull that shit out of a hat for nothing. It’s our way of life. A southern creed. Regardless of where we live, we’re country boys through and through. A little bit of bad and a little bit of good. Moderation is key to everything.

  Four

  Gabby

  I stare at my beige bedroom wall from where I’m spread out over my queen size bed on my stomach, the high thread count comforter beneath me wet from my constant crying. Last time I looked out the window it was nightfall, and instantly I thought of Maddox. I wonder what he thought when he woke up and I wasn’t there. If he was upset at all. If he left without me. He probably got angry more than sad, which means he’s likely going to go find some worthless slut to shove his dick into. I should have woken him up. Or left a note. He won’t come looking for me.

  More tears fall.

  My stomach flips when the exterior lock on my bedroom door sounds. I’ve been waiting for this moment since I woke up locked in my old room. My dad had it installed when he found out about me and Maddox so that he could keep me from sneaking out if need be. My room is upstairs, and despite all those movies you see where it’s as simple as climbing down a damn tree, I have no such luck. It’s a solid drop from my bedroom window. I’m stuck, and in this subdivision a ladder would stick out like a sore thumb. Plus, my dad isn’t that dumb.

  The door opens and closes. I can feel his presence before he makes it to my bedside. I’d love to know how he found me. There is a reason I don’t have social media accounts or hang out with people from my past he can get to, to question with his scare tactics. My dad could crack a monk under a vow of silence. I change night jobs every so often so I don’t get too comfortable. During the day I clean houses for cash. I’d rather keep my social security number out of the mix where possible, knowing damn well he knows it and can easily use it for his benefit. I live like a ghost because I want to be one.

  I sit up and cross my legs in front of me, ready to face the music. He knows I’m not afraid of him. The only thing I had to lose he took. He’s standing at the side of the bed, legs shoulder width apart and his hands in the pockets of his designer trousers, radiating so much power with his handsome features like his strong jawline, dark hair and eyes and tan skin that shows every bit of his Greek heritage, but even the devil can make himself physically appealing. My blonde hair that he loved so much came from my mother’s side. “Gabrielle, it’s nice to have you home.”

  “I’m only home because you kidnapped me.”

  “Stop being dramatic. It only makes you sound like your mother.”

  My cheeks burn hot. “You drugged me, Dad! Then took me against my will. That’s kidnapping! How did you know where I live?”

  “No, I took back lost property. I’ve let you wander around like a homeless person long enough. God knows that house you’re living in looks like a dump. You’re going to come home, clean yourself up, and go to college like you should have already been doing. In case you’re forgetting, I created you, and I’m always one step ahead, like knowing about you spreading your legs for that boy
last night. I’m sure you let him use you as a cum bucket too for old time’s sake. I’ve had one whore. I’m not going to have another.”

  Fuck. Please be gone.

  He nods toward my nightstand where a glass of water and a pill are both sitting I haven’t even noticed. “Take it.”

  My body starts to shake. “What is that?”

  “Emergency birth control.”

  “Why would I need that? You forced birth control on me years ago, remember?”

  His dark coffee-colored eyes hold to mine—the one thing that reminds me I’m a part of him. “I’d rather you be double covered.”

  Anger washes over me and my temper flares—another thing we share. I reach forward and sling it off the table. “Maybe I want to have his baby.”

  He doesn’t show an ounce of rage. He rarely does. He didn’t even flinch, his six-three frame standing tall. That’s what makes him so scary. He has no bark to warn you. Only bite. His hands go for his belt buckle, already working it undone. “I’ve had enough of that mouth. The disrespect is coming to an end. I’m going to get you in line if I have to break you to do it. Children have their place. You earn your way to the top.”

  “No,” I whisper. “I’m an adult. You can’t do this anymore.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You are my property until I give you away to someone. And until a man is worthy enough to be your husband, I’m going to preserve what will eventually be his. You’re not going to have that boy’s baby. Or a bastard child. You should have never let him back in. We aren’t going there again. I’m not going to be blindsided this time. Take the fucking pill or I can force it. Your choice.”

  “It’s my body! Everything should be my choice!” The leather makes a swishing sound as it’s pulled through the belt loops, wrecking my nerves. Tears start streaming down my face when he folds the belt in half, making a loop at one end. “Daddy, no.”

 

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