Wreck Me (Nova #4)

by Jessica Sorensen

  Even though I think I know who the call is from, I check the screen anyway. And, yep, I’m right—the unknown number. Instead of putting the phone down, I decide to dial the number back, just to see.

  It rings three times then someone answers.

  “Hello,” a woman answers.

  “Who is this?” I ask, setting the tray aside on the nightstand.

  “Avery,” she whispers. “Oh, my God, is that really you?”

  “Um… yeah…” What the hell? “Tell me who this is.”

  “It’s… Taylor.”

  “Who?”

  She sighs. “Dammit, I was hoping he told you about me. Now this is just going to be really awkward.”

  I lean forward in the bed. “Is this Conner’s girlfriend? Because, if it is, I don’t want to talk to you or him.”

  She pauses. “Who’s Conner?”

  Confusion swirls through my mind. “Okay, you have five seconds to explain to me who you are, or I’m hanging up.”

  “I’m Taylor,” she repeats with a weighted exhale. “You’re… um… half-sister... God, I had this planned out so much better. It would have been so much better if I could have finally gone through with my call and told you.”

  My fingers on the phone tighten and my stomach burns. “Come again? You’re my… what?”

  “My name is Taylor Hensley,” she says with uneasiness. “Your father was… well, my father.”

  “What do you mean was?” I ask, struggling to stay calm. She’s my half-sister? God, I never saw this one coming. “Did he ditch you too?”

  “No. He, um, died about six months ago,” she says quietly. “On his death bed, he told me about you and how sorry he was that he never really got to know you. And I… Well, I wanted to maybe get to know you for him. I’ve been super nervous over calling you, though, which is why I kept hanging up. I was worried you wouldn’t… react well.”

  “React well?” Anger blazes through me like an untamed fire. “Did he tell you why he didn’t get to know me?”

  Her breathing quickens. “He mentioned something about not being able to get along with your mother. That she had problems.”

  “Yeah, and then he left me with her and all her problems,” I snap in outrage. How dare he talk about me to his other daughter! How dare she call me! How dare he die without seeing me again!

  “I’m so sorry,” she sputters. I can hear the sound of her tears. “I never should have called you. It was so wrong of me... God...”

  Click.

  She hangs up, leaving me stunned. “Fuck.” This is the last thing I expected or needed. Some long-lost half-sister wanting to get to know me because her—our—father died, and it was his death wish or whatever. A father who abandoned me and never cared enough to even mention I existed until he died. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck, just fuck.

  Heaving mad, I turn down the volume on the phone and chuck it onto the floor. “I’m not going to let this ruin my birthday,” I mutter to myself, trying to breathe, to calm down. “Let it go.”

  After about five minutes and some serious deep breaths, I return to my breakfast and force my thoughts to something else that will detour me from the call. Something happy. Something that makes me smile…

  Tristan and that kiss. I spent half the night after I got home staring up at the stars, mapping the night sky, begging for a sign of how badly I’d screwed up. That kissing Tristan isn’t how I’m supposed to be helping him, that the kiss was wrong. But all I could think about was how safe I’d felt and how I wished I could always feel that safe. Like now, after that call.

  “God, I’m getting into such a mess,” I mumble as I finish off my toast. “He doesn’t even know you have a kid for Christ’s sake. And he would probably bail out if he knew. Plus, you’re making wishes again, Avery. Not smart at all.”

  I wolf down the rest of my breakfast then take a shower. I apply a little bit of makeup and put on the one dress I own—a short, flowery one with thin straps—because it’s my birthday and an excuse to look nice once a year. I leave my hair down in waves, shutting my eyes for a moment to brush my fingers through the strands, savoring the long length. Then I put the tiara back on my head and leave the bedroom with the empty plate and tray.

  When I enter the kitchen, Mason and Jax are playing a board game at the table, dice, pieces, and cards in front of them. For an instant, I consider mentioning the phone call to Jax but decide against it, not wanting to burden him with my life problems. And, honestly, I don’t really feel like talking about it yet. Besides, Jax doesn’t know who his father is, so the last thing he needs is for me to rub in his face that I do, even if mine’s dead.

  Oh, my God, he’s dead.

  “You look so pretty, Mama,” Mason says as he turns around in his chair.

  I plaster a smile on for him. “Thanks, baby.” I kiss his cheek then put the dishes in the sink and sit down in a chair. “So, is this my big birthday present? Do we get to sit around all day and play board games?”

  Jax and Mason exchange a secret look, and then they both shake their heads. “Nope, this isn’t it,” Jax says, scooting back from the table and standing up. He grabs a plaid shirt hanging on the back of the chair and slips it over his red T-shirt. “You can’t have your present until after the day is over.”

  I fake a frown. “So what are we doing all day?”

  Mason claps his hands as he springs from his chair and bounces up and down. “It’s cake time!”

  “Yes! A cake!” I jump from my chair, genuinely excited over frosting. If anything can cheer me up, it’s sugar. “Where are we going to get it?"

  “Philman’s.” Jax grabs the car keys from the hook beside the back door. “They have the best cakes. And we can buy stuff for your dinner there too.”

  “Can I have anything I want?” I ask as I pick up my purse from the counter and start for the front door.

  “Of course,” Jax says, but he pauses in the entryway, allowing Mason to run out the door. Then he turns to me. “Is everything okay?”

  I nod as I slide the handle of my purse over my shoulder. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Because I heard you crying last night,” he says. “And it seems like you’re upset today. More than usual.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “Just a little tired.”

  “Are you worried about bills? Because I can help with that. Avery, you need to start letting me help with stuff more.”

  “No, it’s not bills,” I say, being painfully reminded of the credit card debt. “It’s just… stuff. And I don’t want you helping with money. That’s my problem.”

  “Avery—”

  “Conner showed up at work last night.” I figure that’s the best route to go, staying away from the dad situation.

  “What! Are you serious?”

  “Shh…” I point outside to where Mason is twirling around on the front lawn. “Don’t let him hear you.”

  “Sorry.” He lowers his voice. “But he seriously showed up at your work? God, he’s so fucking stupid.”

  I nod and then, even though I don’t want to, I give him a brief rundown of what happened. After I’m finished, he’s silent for what feels like an eternity before he speaks again.

  “We really need to get him in jail again,” he says with a frazzled sigh and I instantly regret telling him. “Things were so much more peaceful then.”

  “I’m trying to make that happen. I call the police every time he shows up, but he always bails out.” I fold my arms around my stomach as the scars begin to smolder. “And besides, you know as well as I do that, unless he does something really bad, they won’t do anything.”

  “I’m not going to let him hurt you just so he can go back to jail.” Jax steps out the door and into the warm sunshine. “And you know what? I like this Tristan guy.”

  “You don’t even know him,” I point out as I follow him out and close the door behind me, “so how can you like him?”

  Jax finds the house key on the chain and locks t
he door. “Because he made you feel safe, Avery. And I’m pretty sure no one has ever done that for you, even me.”

  “Conner did once,” I mutter as Mason races up to the Jeep and throws the door open. “But that’s because I was stupid.”

  “You weren’t stupid,” he says as we head down the sidewalk for the driveway. Even though it’s nearing the end of September, blossoming crimson and violet flowers border the pathway, making the yard beautiful. I wish it could look that way forever, but I know that the petals will eventually wilt and fade as the seasons change, and life will change with it. “You just wanted to get out. We both wanted that.”

  Jax is right. Dreamer or not, a part of me was searching for freedom from The Subs when I first went out with Conner. I’m not looking for that in Tristan, though. I’m honestly not even sure what I’m looking for in him other than to help him. And I really enjoy spending time with him.

  Whether that’s wrong or right, only the stars really know. And I’m not about to die to find out the answers, so I guess I’m left to discover it on my own.

  ***

  Philman’s is a grocery store in the same town where the Habitat for Humanity house is being built. They have the best cakes that have ever existed in the whole wide world.

  Forty-five minutes later, we’re wandering up and down the aisles of the store. My cake was supposed to be ready by noon, but the baker is running behind schedule, so we gather some stuff for my birthday dinner while we wait.

  “I want kabobs with my corn,” I announce when I spot a bag of skewers on a shelf. “With potatoes and chicken and tomatoes on it.”

  “You’re super demanding,” Jax tells me then shoots a grin in my direction, letting me know he’s teasing. He chucks a bag of skewers into the cart. “Kabobs it is.”

  Mason and I high five then Jax steers the cart toward the vegetable section so we can get my vegetable requests. That particular section of the store is right by the deli, which really doesn’t matter except for today. Because today, there are people standing at that deli.

  At first, I think I’m imagining them, but when I realize I’m not, I feel stupid for thinking I could come to this town without running into Nova, Quinton, and Tristan.

  “Shit,” I curse under my breath as I duck behind the cart of tomatoes like a coward.

  Jax gapes down at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks with a tomato in his hand.

  “Hiding,” I hiss, gripping onto the edge of the tomato cart

  “I know that.” His gaze scans the store while Mason messes around with a basket of tomatoes beside my head. “But from who?”

  “People.”

  “Avery.”

  “Ugh.” I lift my hand without standing up and point toward where I’m pretty sure the deli is. “Tristan is over there.”

  “And?” he asks in confusion while examining the tomato he’s holding, acting like this isn’t a big deal.

  But it is. A super huge deal. Because I’m here with my family that none of them know about.

  “I don’t want to see him after last night,” I lie, feeling like an ass.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s embarrassing.”

  “Yeah, for Conner, not you.” He reaches down with his free hand and pulls me to my feet. “You don’t need to hide, Avery. You did nothing wrong.” When I open my mouth to protest, he adds, “You have to listen to me. I’m super wise.”

  “Says the man fondling the tomato,” I retort, refusing to look over at the deli. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll walk away without noticing me.

  He shakes his head as he grabs a plastic bag to put the tomato in. “You’re supposed to do this to see if they’re ripe.” He sniffs the tomato and then drops it into the bag.

  Mason mimics Jax, leaning in to smell a tomato, and then he chucks it into the bag. “I think Jax is right,” he says. “It does smell ripe.”

  Jax smirks at me. “See, I’m right.”

  “You two are such dorks.” I select a large tomato and sniff it. “All I smell is dirt.”

  Jax opens his mouth to say something, and by the humor in his expression, I bet it’s another snotty remark, but something I knew was coming interrupts him.

  “Avery, what are you doing here?” Nova asks as she winds around the lettuce section toward us. She’s alone, which is good. Maybe, if I’m lucky, Quinton and Tristan won’t come over.

  Says the stupid dreamer side of me.

  I seriously think about chucking the tomato at her and running out of the store. Instead, I put the tomato in the bag and plaster on my best smile. “Shopping for food,” I tell her casually as I pretend to have a deep fascination with the cucumbers to the right of me.

  “It’s her birthday,” Jax chimes in as Nova reaches us. She has a deli bag in her hand, and the air suddenly smells like chicken. “We’re just killing time until her cake is done.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot it was your birthday,” Nova says cheerfully. “Happy birthday, Avery.”

  “Thanks.” I pick up a cucumber and turn it in my hand. I feel like a liar and don’t like myself very much at the moment, but I can’t bring myself to explain who Jax and Mason are.

  Jax has other ideas, though. “Avery”—he clears his throat—“maybe you should introduce us.”

  I grip the cucumber before tossing it into the basket, and then I face Nova. “This is…” I trail off when I spot Quinton and Tristan walking in our direction. Their eyes are on me in all my birthday tiara glory. I consider removing the crown from my head, but then I’d be pretending to be someone I’m not, and I’ve already done a lot of that lately.

  I hold my breath as I wait for them to reach us, noting how pissed off Tristan looks. Albeit, he still looks sexy. He’s wearing a pinstriped shirt over a fitted T-shirt, loose jeans, his face is freshly shaven, and his hair styled in a messily perfect way. My thoughts drift to how amazing it would feel to rip off his shirt and sketch the lines of his carved muscles and colorful ink… lick his abs… kiss his flesh… then his lips… his jaw while my hand slips down to his…

  I blink out of my lust-induced dazed. What, oh what, have I gotten myself into?

  Quinton is saying something to Tristan in a low tone as they veer around the carts of vegetables, but Tristan isn’t looking at Quinton, only me.

  He looks so mad.

  “Hey, look who I found,” Nova says to them when they arrive in front of us. They have deli bags in their hands, too, so I’m guessing they came here for lunch. “Avery is here, picking up her birthday cake.”

  “Oh, yeah, happy birthday.” Quinton tensely massages the back of his neck.

  Something is off.

  “Yeah.” I adjust the crown on my head, unable to bring myself to glance in Tristan’s direction and endure his withering death stare that I can feel burning into the side of my head. “Happy twenty-three to me.”

  Nova’s smile is strained. She glances at the tiara on my head before her eyes land on Jax and her brows furrow.

  Jax jabs me in the side with his elbow. “Avery, you should probably tell them who I am,” he whispers with another prod to my side.

  “Oh. Yeah. Right.” I shake my head to clear my head. Then I gesture at Jax. “Everyone, this is my brother, Jax.”

  The sound of breaths easing from everyone’s lips is painfully deafening. It takes a second and the sight of relief washing over Tristan’s face for me to realize what’s going on and why everyone seemed so uneasy just moments ago.

  “Wait a minute,” I say with an off-pitch laugh. “Did you guys think he was my boyfriend or something?”

  Nova nervously laughs. “No way.” But then she sighs. “Well, kind of. It’s just that you two were standing here, buying food, and I don’t know, we kind of jumped to conclusions. We’re really sorry.”

  “No worries.” I wave her apology off because it wasn’t her fault, but mine, for keeping my family a secret from them. Then I realize I have one more introduction to
make—one that will be a lot harder than Jax.

  Before I can get to it, though, Tristan sticks out his hand to Jax. “It’s nice to meet you, man. I’m Tristan.”

  Jax’s brows elevate. “Aw, Tristan. Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I stomp on Jax’s foot then smile maliciously when he winces. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  “Hey, I’m only being one to you,” Jax states, moving the cart out of the way as a woman tries to squeeze by us. “Chill out, Avery.”

  He’s right. I do need to chill out. While Nova and Quinton introduce themselves, I look down at Mason who has knocked about ten tomatoes on the floor as he struggles to grab some from the top of the cart. I’m not even worried about myself in this situation, but him. It’s always about him. Bringing new people into our life is something I haven’t really done before, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet and if he is. I’ve had my rules for a reason along with the walls I’ve put up—to keep out the world and keep my family safe. But now the walls are starting to crack, and I don’t even know how it happened.