Well… shit smoking was stupid. Being with Derek … that’s not smart. I cringe as I recall everything that happened last night. Covering my face with my hands.
We didn’t have sex though. I know he wouldn't do that. And I don’t feel like I did.
I cover my face with my hands, remembering how he was going down on me. And then I passed the fuck out. Oh my fucking God.
I was trying to tell him. It was so hard to keep my eyes open.
But it felt so good.
I groan into my hands and then crouch on the floor, leaning my back against the wall and huddling into a pathetic ball.
I cannot believe I did that. I’m so embarrassed.
I look back at my dresser and find my neatly folded jeans.
If it’d been someone else... I shake my head. I never would’ve done that with someone else. Never.
It was all because it was Derek. And he’s different.
In school, they all said he was bad. One teacher specifically told me to stay away. Mrs. Hepburn. She was a bitch who needed to mind her own business. I feel the anger rise up all over again. They had no right to judge.
He wasn’t a bad guy, not really. I knew he wasn’t back then. He may have done some bad things, but he had a goodness about him, hidden under the hard facade. Now he’s grown up, and the mask he wears is good at covering it, scaring people off, but that goodness still there.
I hear faint sounds of dishes and chatter coming from downstairs, and that’s when I realize he may still be here.
I shoot up and bound through the room, digging through my worn-out black duffel bag to find my pajama pants and quickly pull them on. I practically run down the stairs, but when I look up and see his jacket is missing from the coat rack, my heart drops and my steps slow. My bare feet pad on the wooden floor, and my stomach growls as I walk towards the kitchen.
I wish he was still here so we could talk about what happened last night. We need to talk about it.
At least I do.
But maybe he doesn’t. Maybe last night didn’t mean much to him at all. I cross my arms and try not to think like that.
As I start making my way to the kitchen, I hear Sandra giggling, followed by Tony’s voice.
She’s frying eggs on the stove, while Tony stands next to her scratching his ass. “You're so gross!” Sandra says, laughing. Tony slaps her ass, resulting in even more giggling. At least Sandra seems happy. She deserves to be. I’ve never seen her like this, bubbly and at ease with a guy.
“Good morning,” I say hoping it’s not awkward that I’m interrupting them and opening the cabinet to pull out a box of Corn Pops. It's my favorite cereal. Sandra always stocks up on it when I come to visit.
“Good morning,” Sandra says as Tony kisses her neck and thankfully backs away to take a seat at the small table.
“Morning,” he says, stretching his back with his arms over his head. You’d think he lived here, too. Shit, maybe he does. Maybe this last week she’s kept him away to give me space.
I close the cabinet and try not to think about it as I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Is Derek here?” Sandra asks me with a ridiculous Cheshire grin on her face. She's way too excited this morning.
“No, he left last night,” I tell her, ignoring the urge to try to pick apart everything that happened and over analyze why I’m here alone this morning. It’s simple. He didn’t want to stay, so he didn’t. That’s all it means. Or at least that’s what I tell myself over and over again as I put the milk away and sit down at the table.
Tony sits down across from me with the fried eggs and toast Sandra just made him.
“Oh, so he didn’t stay with you?” she asks turning to face me with a look of confusion.
I shake my head no, shoving the spoon in my mouth and eating a bite of cereal. “Why are you asking?” I ask stirring the pops with my spoon.
She shrugs before turning back to her omelet on the stove.
I shake my head and take another mouthful of my cereal. The room is mostly quiet except for the clinking of the spoon against the ceramic bowl, the sounds of the eggs cooking on the stove, and the gentle scraping of the spatula. Tony’s on his phone, and I keep staring at him.
He knows Derek.…I shove another spoonful into my mouth to keep from prying, but I can't help myself once he's off the phone.
“So, Tony, you're good friends with Derek?” I ask.
“Yeah, we've been friends for a real long time.” he sets his phone down to give me his full attention. “We grew up next door to each other. I was always over his house,” he answers me.
“Oh, really?” I didn't know he grew up with Derek. My skin tingles with anxiety. I wonder if he knows about us. I never saw him back then. I never saw anyone. More than a few times I went to Derek's house, but I was quiet and discreet. I always waited in the back, just like he told me to.
Neither of us wanted anyone to know.
I bite the inside of my cheek rather than snooping anymore. I need his number though. Or something. I need to get ahold of him, but asking his friend when Derek could’ve left it for me just seems desperate. Sandra sits down next to me with her egg whites and three strips of bacon. It smells too good. I snag one of the three pieces, and she playfully acts like she’s going to stab me with her fork.
Tony takes the opportunity to grab a piece for himself while she’s distracted with me, and I practically snort when she sees. Her mouth drops open in shock. Like he truly betrayed her for stealing a strip of bacon.
I lick my fingers as she takes her last and only piece and mutters, “Vultures.”
Tony hands her back half of his stolen strip, and she snags it like he’s gonna rip it away from her if she doesn’t take it right then.
I have to admit, they’re so stinking cute together.
Wanting to know more about the guy that's making my sister so happy, I ask Tony, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work with Derek,” he says easily.
“What does he do?” I ask him, mostly because Derek’s answer was so short and vague last night.
“He has a business. A bunch of ‘em. He kinda runs the town.”
He runs the town? What the fuck does that mean? I wait for Tony to say more, but he just continues eating his breakfast.
My skin tingles with anxiety. He can’t still be dealing drugs. Derek was so much smarter than that. The thought makes my stomach flip.
I stir the cereal around in my bowl of milk. I don’t have much of an appetite anymore. I push the bowl away and try to calm down. Runs the town. What’s there to run? I gather my hair and pull it over my shoulder. All I can think is that he’s doing shady shit. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. I want to question Tony. I want straight answers, but at the same time, I just don’t want to know. Knowing I’d rather hide from the truth than deal with whatever it is that he’s doing makes me cringe. I’m like one of those mothers I hate, enablers. Women who turn a blind eye while their children go further and further down the wrong path. I feel sick just thinking about it.
I drag one of my books that was on the edge of the table closer to me and flip it open. The letters seem to blend together as I read them. All the black and white print is mixing and turning grey. I blink a few times and flip the page. Just one more semester.
I look up at the sounds of running water and dishes being stacked together.
Tony and Sandra are washing the dishes together in the large porcelain farmhouse sink. I'm rereading the last paragraph I just read. I can't concentrate.
I can’t think about anything except Derek. My phone rings and I look at the number, but I have no idea who it is. The caller ID just displays numbers on the screen. I debate on not answering, but then it hits me. It could be him.
“Hello?” I answer as calmly as possible, trying not to seem like I’m dying inside for it to be Derek.
“Morning, sweetheart.” A wave of relief and something else go through my body when I hear his voice.
“What are you up to?” he asks.
I can’t help the smile on my face as I tap a pen on my textbook. I’ve always been so conflicted when it comes to Derek. I can’t help that I want him. I’m drawn to him, even knowing it’s wrong.
My face flushes as I realize Tony and Sandra are watching me closely.
“Uhh, nothing. Just studying,” I say quietly, turning away from my audience. “How about you?”
I can hear Sandra whispering something not-so-quietly to Tony. I close my eyes and just ignore them.
“Not much.” He’s gonna ask me out. I can feel it. My eyes pop open as I wait to hear the words. God, I feel so young and naive again. “I was just thinking about you, and I need to see you again. You wanna go out tomorrow night?” he asks. Yes!
I start to answer how I would have all those years ago. Of course. Whatever you want. I would have followed him anywhere back then.
But this time, I hesitate. We were two dumb kids in puppy love. Now we’re adults, and this is real life.
And I need to know what his business is. I tap the pen a little faster on the textbook.
“You there?” I hear him ask.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m free.” I can go. I should go, if for no other reason than just to talk. But I know there’s more to it than talking. I know I’m heading down a path that’s going to suck me in and threaten to take over.
“Yes!” I hear Sandra squeal in the kitchen, her feet padding against the floor. I don’t have to turn around to know she’s practically running in place.
I shake my head, my hand over my eyes. I love my sister, but what was she thinking? My heart squeezes in my chest.
“Great. I'll pick you up at eight,” he says in that deep voice that makes me want his lips on me.
“See you then,” I say softly into the phone, feeling a mixture of emotions running through my blood.
“Bye sweetheart,” he says.
I really should have said no, but the butterflies in my stomach and everything in our past are clouding my judgment.
I just hope this isn’t a huge mistake.
Chapter 6
Derek
I’ve got it bad. All I wanted to do yesterday was pick her up. I knew she’d be home alone and studying. Some things never change.
I take a look at her in the passenger seat as I slow down at the red light, my Porsche humming smoothly.
She’s playing with the hem of her dress and mouthing along to the song on the radio.
“I like this one,” she says sweetly when she sees I’m looking at her. A beautiful blush rises to her cheeks and she tucks a strand of her hair that’s escaped from her bun behind her ear.
“Why are you so nervous today?” I ask her. The way she’s looking away from me and shifting in her seat makes it more than obvious that she’s apprehensive about something. It’s more than that though. She seems uncomfortable. Like she’s second-guessing this.
There’s a tension between us. I expected it. We’re still feeling each other out, I guess. We haven’t talked about anything, but I don’t really plan on it. I want her, so I’m taking her. It’s that simple.
I don’t like that she’s so uneasy though. It takes her a moment before she’s able to answer me. “Do you still deal?”
I hate her question. Do I still deal? Some. I’m not the dealer though. I’m the supplier. And it’s pot, for fuck's sake. I look out of the window, regretting the awkward tension between us and then drive through the intersection, the quiet air becoming thick.
I lick my lips and pull into the parking lot of Mariani’s Bistro. It’s one of my places of business. It’s close to my place, and it’s a nice restaurant which should impress her.
She clears her throat uncomfortably and barely gets out, “Sorry. I shouldn’t ask.”
No, she shouldn’t. The fewer questions, the better. There’s no reason for her to know anything other than I’ll provide for her. I’ll keep her safe.
But she doesn’t really know either of those things. She’s gotta realize I’m well off by now. The suits and car shoulda given that away. Maybe that’s why she’s asking.
“I just heard-” she starts to say, but then she shuts her mouth.
“What’s that, Sweetheart?”
“I heard you run the town?”
It’s a fucking stupid expression. I don’t agree with it either. I’ve got money and I like investing, so I’ve got my hands in plenty of pockets. Tony likes that particular saying though.
“Fucking Tony,” I mutter, staring away from her and out the driver’s side window.
“Look, last night-”
“Last night was everything I’ve wanted since you left me.” I can hear her looking for any excuse to bail. I see it in her eyes. But I’m not going to let her walk away so easily this time. It’s not happening.
“You don’t like that I deal, do you?” I’m blunt. I’ll get straight to the point and put this shit to bed.
“No, I don’t.”
“Is that the only thing?” I ask her.
She takes in a steady breath and nods her head. It fucking sucks, 'cause it’s not like this is a job I can just walk away from.
“It pays the bills. It’s not really illegal.”
“It is really illegal,” she says straight faced.
Selling pot isn’t so bad. It’s legal in some states. This is a college town, and I keep my business as clean as possible. But some of the shit I’ve done has definitely crossed the line. I rub the back of my neck sighing before turning back to her. Just let it be sweetheart. I’ll take care of her; that’s what matters.
The look on her face tells me it’s not going to be that easy though.
I shrug. She has no right to judge me. She doesn’t know what a shit hand I’ve been dealt. I turn the car off and the radio dies, leaving the car filled with silence.
“I don’t lose any sleep over it.” That’s a lie. The second I say it, I regret it. She crosses her arms over her chest, gripping onto her forearms and looking out of the window. It’s dark and cold outside. Her head falls against the window gently, and her breath fogs up the glass.
She’s completely closed off now, and I know it’s 'cause I was short with her.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I never say sorry, but seeing her hurt and disappointed fucking kills me. Anyone else? I’d say fuck 'em. But it’s Emma. “I just don’t want you to get involved with this. You don’t need to know this shit.”
“But I want to be involved with you,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear. “I remember how I fell for you, Derek. It’s scaring me. I don’t want to fall for someone who’s...” she doesn’t finish that sentence and it fucking shreds me.
Who’s a criminal.
Who’s no good for her.
“I’m not a knight in shining armor, Emma. But I’m not gonna hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.” I can promise her that. She looks away, and is quiet for a moment. The chill of the night starts creeping into the car, but I’m not starting it again. I’m taking her out, whether she likes it or not.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” Emma asks softly. Like she’s afraid of the answer. She turns her head to the side, peeking at me from the corner of her eye.
I don’t answer her. I don’t want to. When she knew me, I was just a peddler. I needed money for Ma, and I did shit I wasn’t proud of. When Emma left me, I only got deeper and deeper into this life. I had nothing else going for me.
And in this line of business, death happens.
When you have a name that people recognize, some pricks are going to challenge you. It doesn’t happen anymore, but it did in the past.
The only name coming to mind right now is my father’s though.
I turn away from her and lean back in my seat, running my hand through my hair. “You know you don’t wanna know the answer to that, sweetheart.” I can’t look at her when I answer. I know just the way her forehead pinches and her beautiful lips turn down when she’s u
pset. And I can’t fucking stand it.
Killing my father didn’t feel the same as the other fuckers. Those assholes had it coming. It was me or them, and it was all business, nothing personal.
When my father came back and started thinking he had rights to the money I was giving Ma, it was personal.
She needed that money. She deserves a good life, and she still doesn’t know what I do. That fucker thought he could come back and beat on the two of us just like he used to. He only got two swings in until he was on the ground, choking on his own blood as I landed my fist over and over.
Tony had to pry me off of him. I don’t know how long he’d been dead.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to,” I finally tell her. I look deep into those beautiful hazel eyes and I see something I’ve never seen before, a hint of fear.
“I never enjoyed it. I don’t go looking for trouble. But for a while, trouble came to me.”
“You didn’t have to-”
“You don’t know, Emma.” My words come out sharp, and she looks as if I’ve slapped her. I’m gutted by the expression on her face and the fear in her eyes.
Fuck, I wish I could pull her into my lap right now and comfort her like I used to do. I’d just hold her, leaning my seat all the way back and letting her lie on top of me. We’d make out, and she’d let me feel her up. My hands would travel along her curves, making her shiver.
I reach down to hit the button and push my seat back, so we can do just that. I’ll make her forget. I’ll make her not care about anything other than wanting my touch, but she speaks up, finally breaking the silence.
“I wanna be with you,” she says softly, catching me off guard. “But it doesn’t feel right, knowing what you do.” There’s so much pain in her voice.
I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh, tilting my head so I can see her.
“You aren’t supposed to know,” I tell her easily. “You think your sister knows what Tony does?” I ask her. I speak before thinking. I shouldn’t say shit about Tony and his job. He’s my enforcer. If Emma thinks it's wrong that I've killed a few men, she’d be horrified by the shit Tony’s done. “He’s in the business.”
Begging for Bad Boys Page 5
