Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1)

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Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1) Page 23

by Stacey Marie Brown


  “Out of bounds.”

  “Who says?” I countered. “War has no rules.”

  He grinned jumping off the bed, charging me. The moment he got close enough, I struck him, knocking him to the side. I veered around, trying to get back to the bed. An arm darted out, encircling my waist. I shrieked as he easily picked me off the floor. I squirmed against him, trying to break free.

  “You started it. Now you must face the consequences.” He tossed me back on the bed. “But let me warn you. I always win.” He grabbed my foot and started to tickle it.

  A half laugh, half cry broke from my throat. “Stop.” I kicked back. “Not fair.”

  “I didn’t say I won fairly.” He smirked. “Remember, war has no rules.”

  If I weren’t being tormented, I would have been more aware of him, mostly naked, wrestling on the bed with me, but I didn’t really notice. Nope. Not at all.

  “Stop! Please.” I laughed painfully. My feet were sensitive, and it was torture when someone tickled them. I wiggled around, clasping a pillow and swung my arm back. His grip loosened, and I slithered toward the end of the bed, slipping over the edge. He caught my calf to bring me back, but my motion pulled him over the side with me. We both landed in a heap on the floor. Laughing. Once again, Hunter lay across me. This time I was on my back, looking up at his beautiful mouth.

  “We really are dangerous.” Hunter turned serious, his eyes roaming over my face.

  Yes, we were. In so many ways.

  Friction strained the air. I wanted him to kiss me. Badly.

  An emotion flickered across his face, before I could make it out, he sucked in a deep breath through his nose and pulled back off me. He sat back, thrusting his spine against the bed. His form was rigid, like he was warning me to stay away. His eyes tracked me as I slowly sat up, his face expressionless. He inhaled and looked down at the floor, tapping his knuckle absently against the area rug. “We can’t do this.”

  He was right. It was the same I had been thinking, but to hear it from him twisted my heart in my chest. “I know.”

  An eruption of awkward silence gushed between us, neither of us seeming to know what to say or do next. Thankfully we didn’t have to.

  Hunter’s bedroom door swung open, slamming into the wall, hauling our attention to the figure in the doorway.

  “There better be rampant sex going on in here or I’m gonna be pissed.” Stevie stood in the doorway, only in a T-shirt and underwear, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Seriously, who makes this much noise at this ungodly hour? Especially when I am hungover.” Her hair was in knotted disarray, her eyeliner smeared, and her pale complexion looked even more sallow. Somehow she still pulled it off.

  “What are you two doing?” She blinked, taking in the pillows scattered around and one still in my clutches. “Oh my god, did I just step into a teenage boy’s fantasy? Are you guys pillow fighting?”

  Hunter pushed up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “If it was a teenage boy’s fantasy, it would be a room full of women pillow fighting…in lingerie.”

  “Wow. It actually sounds an awful lot like my teenage fantasy.” She put a hand on her hip, then motioned to us. “But this one works too.”

  Chris came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist. “You get in there, Hunter comes out, and I’m all for it.” He leaned down and kissed her passionately

  She smiled at him wickedly. “You might get your wish.”

  Hunter and I looked at each other, our eyebrows curved in duel shock. Neither one had run for the door yet?

  “Can you check outside to see if the huge birds in the sky resemble pigs?” I pointed to the window.

  “I’m scared,” Hunter said, his eyes wide in mock fear.

  “Me too.”

  “I’ll deal with you two…” Stevie broke away from Chris, pointing at both of us. “But in, like, five minutes.” She pushed Chris back down the hall.

  “Ten!” Chris yelled over her shoulder. They both disappeared.

  “This is a first.” Hunter stared after them. “Chris never sticks around for the morning.”

  As far as I heard, Stevie didn’t either. “Maybe they did meet their match.”

  “I guess anything is possible.” Hunter’s gaze landed on me.

  “Yeah. I guess it is.” I smiled shyly back.

  Crap. I was really, really in trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Stevie pulled up to my house, and my gaze landed on an unfamiliar red Jeep Wrangler parked next to my grandparent’s Mercedes in the driveway. We still had their car on “loan.” Something my mother noted every day when Grandma Nessa would call to see how everything was going.

  “Whose car is that?” Stevie nodded at the jeep.

  “I have no idea.” I shook my head. “Maybe one of my dad’s co-workers or something.”

  Stevie already lost interest and riffled through her bag next to her, pulling out a card. “Happy birthday, Whiskey.”

  My heart dipped with softness, taking the card from her hand. “Thank you,” I uttered quietly.

  “It’s a card. Don’t get all emotional.”

  “It’s my favorite present so far.”

  “Your only gift so far.” She snorted. “Well, unless you count me. Be honest. I’m your favorite present ever.”

  “True,” I said honestly. I looked back at her and saw spots of blush dotting her pale cheeks.

  “Open it later.” Stevie waved me off. “I don’t want emotions all over my car. Ruins the interior.”

  I grinned, pulling her into a huge hug. “I love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Get out of my car now.”

  Her grumpiness didn’t fool me. “Someone’s unhappy leaving her boyfriend behind.” I dropped my lip in a fake pout.

  “Not my boyfriend.” She glared.

  “Uh-huh. Sure. I saw you this morning, and when we were leaving. Someone’s smitten.”

  “Out. Now.” She pointed out the car.

  I laughed and opened the car door, sliding out.

  “And you have no room to talk, missy. When I get home tonight, I’m getting a play-by-play of what happened with you and Hunter.”

  “I told you, nothing.” Hunter didn’t bring up the kiss, not once. His “we can’t do this” comment told me what I needed to know. I was going to play it like it never happened as well. Better for everyone.

  “Yeah, it looked like nothing this morning.” She winked.

  “I hope they play ‘We are Family’ or ‘Celebration’ over and over at the wedding. And everyone forces you to do the Macarena with them in a conga line.”

  Stevie hissed, jerking back. “Oh, you’re evil.”

  “Learned from you.” I smiled. “Have fun tonight.”

  Stevie groaned. “Please let me spend it with you instead of pretending to have manners and wear a dress.”

  “You actually pretend?”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But because I’m family, they are forced to invite me.” She put the car in drive. “They love it. I spice things up. I’ll call you later.”

  I slammed the door at the same time she sped away from the curb, tires screeching. I strolled up the path to the front door.

  The voices from the kitchen reached me the moment I walked in. I recognized my Grandma Nessa’s strained voice calling to my sister.

  “Reece, don’t eat with your fingers. You use a spoon.”

  I snorted. Good luck with that. Reece had decided a few weeks ago anything entering her mouth would happen by way of her fingers, including cereal, which she was eating with milk again. It was a battle my parents quickly gave up, realizing the more they fought her on it the more she did it. She’d grow out of it in another week. But Grandma Nessa was old school. Manners and etiquette, even by a five-year-old, were a must. I forced on a smile when I heard my grandmother sigh with frustration.

  “Hey!” I came around the corner, dropping my bag on the floor. My grandpa and dad sat at the table eating coffee cake, something
my grandma probably brought over. My sister sat on her knees on the chair next to Dad picking out loops of cereal and dropping them into her mouth, milk dribbling down her face and the front of her pajamas. Grandma Nessa stood over her, holding a towel. Mom hovered by the coffee machine staring at it like it was the lone thing holding her sanity together.

  “Hey!” Dad mumbled over a mouth of pastry. “It’s the birthday girl.”

  “Jaymerson, you’re home early,” Mom chirped, a relieved smile covering her face.

  Reece scrambled off the chair and ran to me. “Happy Burp-day, JayJay.” She giggled.

  I swung down, picking her up. “Thank you, squirt.”

  “Burp-day.” She laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. “Get it?”

  “Yes. Funny.”

  “Thank your grandpa for that one.” Dad stood up, shooting a glare at his father. Grandpa T beamed back at his son.

  “Grandpa T, do it. Do it!” She wiggled from my arms, running to him. She patted his leg with encouragement.

  He leaned over, getting close to her face. “Happy.” He made a sound more like a hiccup. “Burp-day.”

  Reece howled, her giggles wild and uninhibited. Her joy so contagious it only encouraged him to do it again.

  This was not the grandfather I grew up with. He had been stern, reserved, and hands off with me. He and Grandma Nessa thought a wife and child had been an unsuitable choice for their young son. We limited him, keeping Noah from achieving greatness. It was as if my grandfather believed if he accepted me and showed me love, he would be approving of my father’s decisions. He had mellowed by the time Reece came along. She was a fresh opportunity for him to be a real grandpa. They adored each other. I was happy Reece got to have him, but it still hurt a little to watch.

  “Trevor, that’s enough.” Grandma Nessa spoke to him like a child. Her attention went back to me, her eyes scanning my body. “You look awful. Did you sleep in your clothes?”

  Happy birthday to me.

  “Uh.” I smoothed down the front of my shirt. I had changed shirts, but this one was wrinkled from being balled up in my bag all night. “No.”

  “Did you and Stevie have fun last night?” Mom advanced toward me, I could feel her wanting to stand between me and her mother-in-law.

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “What’d you do?”

  A recollection of rolling around the bed with Hunter this morning played out in my head. I felt my cheeks heat up at the image.

  “Hung out. Played some games. Nothing big.” I wasn’t lying. Technically.

  “What happened?” Mom touched the new cuts on my cheek.

  “Tripped.” Again, technically true. “No big deal.”

  I gestured my thumb toward the front door to change the subject. “Did you guys get a new car or something? Is that how you got here?” I asked my grandparents. My grandma’s face lit up with excitement at the same time annoyance fluttered over my mother’s.

  “Not exactly.” Grandma Nessa clapped her hands. “You know how your grandfather is good friends with the mayor and plays golf with him every Sunday.” She motioned dismissively at the man still playing with Reece. “Well, his brother owns several car dealerships...” She left off for dramatic pause. A twist of excitement coiled around me. “We thought since you will be going off to college soon and because I would like my car back, you needed your own car. Happy birthday!” She rushed to me, wrapping her arms around me in a quick hug.

  I stood motionless, absorbing what she was telling me. They were giving me a car for my birthday? The one thing I had wanted since I was sixteen but knew Mom and Dad couldn’t afford it.

  My gaze shifted over to my mom. She schooled her expression into a neutral, generally happy expression, but I could see through it. This was another stab at her inadequacies as a mother, a wife, a provider…a daughter-in-law.

  “Grandma Nessa, I can’t possibly…it’s too much.” I shook my head.

  “Nonsense. We’ve already purchased it and for a great deal,” she said. “Your mother and father have agreed to it. We will help you with the insurance payments at first, but when you get a job, you will take those over. To understand responsibility.” Understand responsibility? I bit my lip, smothering the sprout of irritation at her zing.

  “Don’t you want to go take a look at it?” Dad stood, holding up his hand, a set of keys dangling from them. “It’s in great condition. Still a lot of miles left on it.”

  A squeal of delight bubbled up and out into my limbs. I bounced on my toes, running around hugging everyone before snatching the keys from Dad.

  “Come on, let’s check that baby out.” Dad’s enthusiasm glinted in his eyes as he proceeded outside with me to my new “used” car.

  “It’s pretty.” I petted the hood. The deep red color gleamed under the soft winter sun.

  “Let’s take it for a spin.” Dad ran around to the passenger side. The rest of the family walked down the path to join us.

  “I wanna go.” Reece ran for me.

  “Sorry, squirt.” Mom swooped down and retrieved her. “No car seat.”

  “But I wanna go.”

  “It’s not safe, little one.” I reached over and rumpled her hair. “But I promise I will get a seat for you so you can ride with me. Okay?” She nodded, content with the compromise.

  I slid into the front seat. The soft, warm fabric seats welcomed me against the cold morning air. I shut the door, strapping myself in, my father doing the same next to me.

  I turned over the ignition; it roared to life. Anticipation speared fear into my muscles like a drug, shaking my hands and legs. I had driven many times, before the accident. Since then I had somehow avoided getting behind the wheel. The power of the vehicle suddenly felt immense. I gulped.

  “Let’s go.” Dad tapped his hand on the console eagerly.

  I lifted my hand to shift the car into drive, my tattoo peeking out of my sleeve. Seeing it gave me strength, remembering not to let fear inhibit me but allow me to soar above.

  And not be afraid of change, of growth, of being hurt... or loving.

  Grandma Penny arrived later in the afternoon for my birthday lunch. She had also been elected to babysit Reece for the night.

  My parents had been compelled to attend a football fundraiser at the college where my father worked. My grandparents were generous donors to the football program. They said it was because they loved the game, but I think they hoped their contribution would help advance my father’s career.

  At least my birthday got me out of being forced to attend. I didn’t have plans, but my mom didn’t want me to have to babysit on my birthday, probably hoping I would go out with my old friends. I hadn’t the heart to tell her how far from grace I had fallen. Mom had no idea I had no friends and sat in the library reading or hanging out with Mr. Fredrick working on lab research during lunch.

  After blowing out my birthday candles and filling myself with chocolate-chip cake, I took a shower. When I entered my room, the bag I threw on the floor by the door was laying across my bed. Along with a sweater of mine. Folded nicely.

  Grandma Nessa. I smiled, grabbing the bag. The handle slipped from my hands, and the bag fell, scattering the items across my floor.

  My gaze instantly locked on a small sloppily wrapped package. Paper decorated in bright balloons covered the fist-size box. I reached over and picked it up. My throat quivered. Did Stevie slip it into my bag? It didn’t seem like her. She would have simply handed it to me and told me to get lost.

  I tore into the paper, unwrapping the package. The paper shredded and fluttered to the floor, giving way to a small brown cardboard box. My fingers tugged at the lid, peeling it off. I suddenly struggled to swallow.

  A necklace lay on a bed of cotton. A silver feather carved in detail hung on a chain. It looked like one of the feathers on my tattoo. No card or note, but there didn’t need to be. Only one person would give me such a meaningful gift. He had known it was my birthday.

  I ro
se and went over to my mirror and latched the gift around my neck. The necklace dropped past my collarbone, the feather falling right at my breastbone. It was so simple. So little. And it meant more to me than anything. More than a dozen cars ever could.

  My hand stroked the charm. The symbolism of his gift almost too much.

  Shed your feathers and soar.

  Be yourself.

  Fly free.

  When I had gotten my bag from Stevie’s car to change shirts, he must have slipped it in then.

  My body moved before I even had time to think, dashing for the closet. I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, a deep V-necked shirt, and my boots. I quickly dried my hair and put on a little mascara before bolting from my room.

  “You going out?” Mom asked from the kitchen, putting the last of the plates in the dishwasher. Grandma Penny was wrapping the leftovers. Grandma Nessa and Grandpa T had already left for home to get ready for tonight’s gala.

  “Yeah.” I grabbed my jacket off the coat hook.

  “I thought Stevie had a wedding to go to?” Mom tipped her head.

  “I’ll be home by curfew.” I ignored her question.

  “Okay. Text me or Grandma Penny if you’re going to be late. Your father and I will be staying at your grandparents’ place tonight.”

  “I will.” I went over and gave them both a hug.

  Grandma Penny clasped me tightly, leaning into my ear. “It’s your birthday…you’re eighteen now. Stay out and have fun. I won’t tell.”

  “Mom, what are you telling her?” My mom crossed her arms.

  “Shush, Amy. This is between my beautiful granddaughter and me.” She winked at me. “Now go.”

  I gave her another hug before dashing for the door. I grabbed the keys to my new car and stepped into the cold air, the sky already darkening and hinting at the approaching evening.

  I wouldn’t let myself think. Reason would stop me. It would let doubt take hold and prevent me from acting. I probably should let sense obstruct me and stop me from being the biggest idiot. But I was way past that.

 

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