Wreck Me (Nova #4)

by Jessica Sorensen

  “Why are you calling from mom’s phone?”

  “Because… Well, because I left mine at home, and I really need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

  “Okay.” I reach over and flip the lamp on. “What’s up?”

  “It’s… it’s your mom.” He struggles to speak as if he’s on the verge of crying. “I had to… I had to check her into...”

  “Into where?” I ask when he doesn’t finish. I think I already know the answer, though.

  “Into a… hospital…” He trails off, cursing under his breath. “God dammit, this is so bad, but I didn’t know what else to do. She stopped eating and spent all of her time at Ryder’s grave. Then she... Well she had a nervous breakdown, and I just think maybe some time… some therapy might help her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dad.” It’s all I can think of to say. I feel bad for being the kind of son that can’t comfort him. For being the kind of son who couldn’t stand being around his mother enough to help. The kind of son who doesn’t feel terribly upset his mother has been hospitalized.

  What kind of sick person am I?

  “Yeah, me too,” my father murmurs, and then he starts to cry.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I tell him, even though I’m not positive it is. I don’t know what else to do or say when he’s clearly losing it. It’s not like when I’m trying to comfort Avery and all these uplifting words spill out. My past with Avery isn’t twisted and ugly. “You’ll get through this. And I’ll come visit if you need me to.” I cringe at the idea of going back home again.

  “You would do that?” he asks in shock.

  I sigh. “Well, I’m not as bad of a kid as I used to be. I do care about you guys.” In my own way.

  “We care about you too.” It’s probably the first nice thing he’s said to me since I was twelve, and it causes a lump to swell in my throat. “Your mom… she’s just been confused lately, but I’m hoping this will help her get to a more mentally stable place.”

  “Yeah… I hope so too.” And I really do. Shitty parents or not, I don’t want my mom to suffer.

  Someone says something in the background, and then my father tells me, “I have to go. I’m still at the hospital filling out papers, but I wanted to let you know.”

  “Keep me updated.” I start to say goodbye but then remember… “Wait, did Mom ever report that whole Dylan thing like I told her to do?”

  “She didn’t, but I did,” he says. “And Dylan was arrested yesterday. They found him crashing in that trailer park you used to hang out at all the time. I’m not sure about the charges, but I know he’s behind bars at the moment. Hopefully, he’ll be there for a very long time, for that girl Delilah’s sake. Such a sad story, isn’t it? I actually ran into her mother the other day, and she looked wrecked.”

  “Yeah, it’s…” I don’t know what else to say. After seeing firsthand what went down between Delilah and Dylan, part of me feels guilty about how it ended, even though I did try to stop the abuse. I think of Avery and how Conner is still torturing her, and it makes me want to protect her every second, every hour of every day. “I’m glad he was arrested.”

  “Yeah, me too,” my father says. “Look, I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow and give you more details about your mother’s condition after I talk to the doctor.”

  “Thanks,” I say and then hang up, feeling lost and confused.

  The confusion only increases throughout the day, and by the time I arrive at the worksite, I’m beyond unfocused, something Avery instantly notices.

  “You seem out of it,” she says while we’re working to put sheetrock up inside the home. The walls and roof are now up and the windows are in, although the interior is being heavily worked on. The siding also needs to be put on along with the roof shingles, but it’s coming along.

  “I just have some stuff on my mind.” I stick the end a screw into my mouth while pressing the base of another into the drill bit.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asks, plucking some sheetrock debris out of her ponytail.

  “I don’t want to bring you down today.” I touch the drill bit to the wall. “You looked so happy when you walked up.”

  “That’s because I felt happy this morning.” She bends down to tie her shoelace when I turn on the drill and press the screw into the sheetrock. “But I kind of owe you for the meltdown on my birthday,” she continues when I shut off the drill.

  “Avery, you don’t owe me anything,” I promise her as I set the drill on the floor and sit down on a turned over bucket.

  She glances around for a seat, hesitating before plopping down on my lap. “Tell me what’s bothering you, or I’m going to take away all of your brownie points.” She looks puzzled on where to put her arms before she finally just loops them around my neck.

  My body is tense underneath her. Things have remained friendly since her birthday, and I was under the impression the kissing and touching was a onetime thing. But, now she’s here, sitting on my lap, and the scent of her is so intoxicating I can barely think.

  “My dad called this morning… about my mother… being hospitalized.”

  Her eyes enlarge. “Oh, my God. Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s not hurt or anything.” I summon a deep breath, and before I can stop myself, words pour out of my mouth. I tell her about my mother and father and our rocky past. I tell her how much I let them down. I even find myself telling her about what my mother said to me the day Ryder died. Then I tell her about my mother’s meltdown.

  By the time I’m done, my chest feels less heavy, like I can finally breathe for the first time in years. If only I could take it one step further and tell her about the darkest part of my past—the things I did for drugs—then maybe I could feel completely weightless.

  But I can’t get that far.

  I fear that Avery won’t look at me the same.

  Fear she won’t look at me at all.

  So I stay silent instead.

  And Avery speaks first.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Tristan,” she says after I finish. “Parents can be so… cruel.”

  “Yeah, they can,” I agree then force a small smile. “You’re a good mom, though. The way you are with Mason… he’s lucky.”

  She frowns. “He’s lucky now, but I’ve had my moments of fucking up. I worry, you know, that what happened between Conner and I is going to affect him later on in life. I wish I could have walked away from all of that sooner…”

  “But the important part is that you did walk away,” I say, thinking about Delilah. If only she could have walked away.

  “And the important part is you haven’t done drugs in over four months, so that bad Tristan you kept describing to me moments ago doesn’t exist anymore. And if your parents can’t see that, then fuck them.” As Avery gets up from my lap, it leaves my body feeling chilly. I almost reach out to grab her and bring her back. “Now, come on. We need some cheering up.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask as she takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

  “I’m not sure,” she says with a shrug. “But does it really matter?”

  As I look into her eyes, I realize it doesn’t. Nothing really does when I’m with her.

  ***

  A half an hour later, we’re eating take out on the side of the house in the shade. Clouds are rolling in, but a faint trickle of sunlight still drifts down on us and heats the air.

  “You know, it’s been pretty cool helping put this house up,” Avery remarks, nibbling on a french fry as she stares at the side of the house. “It’s kind of like watching the foundation for a new life get created.”

  “Yeah, I guess it kind of is,” I agree with her insightfulness then take a bite of my burger.

  “Does it ever get old?” She adjusts her shorts over the bottom of her ass cheeks before sitting down on the ground beside me. “Building houses, I mean?”

  I stretch out my legs, admiring the view of her as I reach for my soda. “I never
really found it too exciting in the beginning, but now it’s kind of growing on me.”

  She rests back against the wall as she picks up another fry. “Well, I think it’s very fulfilling. You get to get up every day to build something for someone who really needs it. Give them walls to protect them from the storms, the heat, the world. I just think it’s so amazing, and trust me, the families who get the houses do too.”

  I get lost in the sound of her voice as my gaze traces her full lips and the diamond just above, the soft flutter of her eyelashes, the way her hair floats around her face in the breeze. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds pretty amazing.” You’re pretty amazing.

  “That’s because it is amazing.” She stuffs the fry into her mouth and then amusedly grins. “Just like you.”

  Unable to help myself, my hand strays to her leg and my fingers lightly brush across the faint freckles on her upper thigh. I faintly smile when she shivers. “You know, if you were a guy, you’d be the kind who uses cheesy pickup lines on women all the time.”

  “You mean I’d be you?” Her lips mockingly make an O, then she covers her mouth with her hand.

  “Ha, ha.” Shaking my head, I slide my hand up to her waist and haul her closer to me.

  “Although, it wouldn’t be that bad to be like you,” she says. “You’re one of the good guys.”

  Her compliment makes me uncomfortable, so I dodge around it. “Speaking of Conner, have you heard from him lately?”

  Her features harden at the mention of his name. “No, not since that night at work.”

  “Good.” I dither before I ask my next question. “What about Taylor?”

  After Avery stopped crying on her birthday, she broke down and told me about her worries, one that included her half-sister Taylor who contacted her out of the blue. The fact that she’s told me all these things makes me feel even worse since I should be telling Avery everything, not just the parts that will allow her to still like me.

  “I still haven’t decided what I want to do about her.” Her mood deflates, and I feel like a dick for bringing it up. “I mean, I haven’t seen or heard from my dad in eighteen years, and suddenly, his daughter is contacting me.”

  “Maybe she just wants to get to know you. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

  “But I’m not so sure I want to get to know her, especially if my dad’s had a relationship with her.”

  “Yeah, but having a sister could be a good thing.”

  Her frown deepens, and then her eyes pop wide as she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God, I must sound so selfish right now after you’ve—”

  “Lost my sister,” I finish for her. “You can say it. I’m not going to break. And that’s not what I was getting at. I was merely implying that maybe you should try to look past the father aspect and focus on the sister part.”

  She nods her head. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Of course I am,” I joke then sit up straighter when my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. It reminds me that there’s something I wanted to give her today, so I set my burger aside. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you. Or for Mason, anyway.”

  Her eyes light up like she just won the fucking lottery. “Really?”

  The look makes me feel guilty because I don’t deserve it. Still, I nod then retrieve the miniature toy car that’s tucked in my pocket with my phone. “So, while I was there the other day, he made a point to tell me that one day he was going to be a famous race car driver.”

  “He’s such a goof,” she says, glowing with pride, the same thing she does every time anyone mentions her son. It shows her love for him, like a mother should have for their son. I like her that much more because of it. “He wants to be everything.”

  “Maybe he will be everything,” I tell her, opening my hand. “I saw this car in the store and thought you could give it to him because it looks like the one he described as what he was going to drive.”

  She freezes then whispers, “Wow, you really did get him something.”

  “I said I did.” I worry I’ve done something wrong, like crossed a boundary or something. “But you don’t have to give it to him if you don’t want to.”

  “No… I’m just…” She stares at the car with uncertainty. “I don’t know what I am, but thank you.” She plucks the car from my hand and faintly smiles before putting the toy into her pocket. “He’s going to think you’re the coolest person ever.”

  “That’s because I am.” I nudge her side with my elbow.

  “You really are.” She stares at me in a way that causes my pulse to quicken in both fear and desire.

  Grabbing her by the hips, I drag her closer to me, needing her nearer, worried that at any moment she’s going to discover my sins and leave me. “Come here.”

  Her lips quirk as I zero in on her mouth, and then she surrenders into my pull, our bodies colliding as our lips reunite. We haven’t kissed since her birthday, and fuck, we need to start doing it more because it’s fucking incredible. So full of want. Heat. Need. Life.

  I feel completely alive for the first time in…

  Well, forever.

  As our kiss deepens, my fingers travel around to the back of her neck, to her tattoo she still has yet to let me see. The moment I brush the inked flesh, she shivers and shifts her neck away from my hand.

  “Not yet,” she whispers, then continues to explore my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip.

  “When?” I ask, gasping for air, completely consumed by her as I tug at her hair, pleading for her to get closer even though our bodies are already melded together.

  “I’m not sure,” she breathes against my mouth. “Ask me later.”

  It’s the first time she’s said not yet, which means she’s starting to consider letting me see the tattoo. She’s starting to trust me more, and I grow even guiltier for still having secrets.

  I want to tell her.

  But I can’t lose her.

  “I’m not as amazing as you think,” I whisper helplessly.

  “Yes, you are.” She swings her leg over me and straddles my lap.

  My cock instantly goes hard as she grinds her hips against mine. I respond by gripping her waist and grinding back against her. At any moment, someone could walk around the house and see us, but I don’t care.

  About anything other than her.

  This.

  Us.

  I just wish I deserved it.

  She moans as I bite down on her lip, her head falling back as my hands cup her breasts from the outside of her shirt.

  “You’re an utterly amazing person who builds houses and makes me feel safe… who lets me cry in front of him… who gives Mason little toy cars… and who has the most amazing tongue ever...”

  But I’m not who you think I am.

  I wish I could say it aloud and that she’d be okay with it.

  With me.

  With my past.

  But I can’t bring myself to tell her, so instead I remain silent, pretending to be someone else, being an imposter.

  ***

  Later that day, I’m back at the motel. It’s late and I’m alone, feeling like shit. Avery is at work, and Nova and Quinton are out. Me, I have the night off. So I do some schoolwork then end up watching television and drown in my past sins until Nova walks into the room, looking bushed and bleary eyed, her shirt un-tucked and her shoelaces untied.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask as she tosses the keys onto the table.

  She nods as she flops down face first on the bed beside mine. “I’m just so tired… and I’ve been thinking… about Delilah… I just wish things wouldn’t have ended that way for her. And sometimes I feel guilty.”

  I pick up the remote and turn the television off. “Yeah, me too.” I sit up and swing my legs over the bed, planting my feet onto the carpet. “But why do you feel guilty?”

  She turns her head to look at me. “Because I knew about Dylan and didn’t help her. I tried to talk some sense into
her a couple of times, but that’s it.”

  “We all did that, Nova. And if anyone should feel guilty, it’s me. I lived with her and heard the fighting every day.”

  “Yeah, but you had your own problems.”

  “Problems I brought on myself.”

  “Hey, I’ve been there, too.” She pushes up to sit on the mattress with the comforter tangled around her. “Drugs are easy to sink into. It’s the coming out part that’s hard.”