Unraveled (Twisted Series)

by Dani Matthews

  I study the controller and then look up to see he's watching me. “So, do I get anything if I kill more zombies than you?” I muse.

  “Possibly. What do you want?” he asks as he watches my lips intently.

  “What will you give me?”

  His eyes widen slightly and then his eyes lift to mine. “What are we talking about here?”

  “Not what you're thinking.” My mind is right along with his though and it is totally in the gutter. If I were anybody else, I'd probably be using this game to get closer to him. But I'm not and my life is beyond wrecked at this point.

  “Damn,” he says, shaking his head with mock disappointment.

  I find myself laughing and I fight back a wince as my ribs protest the movement. “Okay, seriously, what would you be willing to do for me if I beat you?”

  Noah turns serious now as he thinks it over before answering. “If you win, I'll take you out next Friday. It's not a date,” he clarifies. “We'll do whatever you want. Your choice.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly. “You're on. What if you win?”

  His grin widens. “I still take you out on Friday, but it'll be my choice what we do.”

  “Hmm. So tempting,” I say with a laugh. It was a win-win either way.

  ***

  When I wake up sometime later, I find that I am laying across the couch and my head is on a pillow that happens to be resting on Noah's lap. I don't remember getting tired but I must have since I'd clearly just woken up. The living room light is still on and I see that Noah is watching TV instead of playing video games. His attention is focused intently on the TV and I can tell he's reading the captions or reading lips.

  I wonder what life is like being deaf. It had to have been hard for him to adjust in the beginning but the man that sits before me today makes it look easy, like it wasn't a big deal. As I stare at him, I realize he is seriously hot. How could he not have a girlfriend? I bet he gets hit on a lot. What I can't understand is what he sees in me. I'm younger than the girls he probably dates and other than my looks, I have absolutely nothing to offer someone like him.

  “You're thinking awfully hard there.”

  His voice has me blinking and coming back to the present. I realize he's caught me staring at him but I don't care. I feel comfortable laying across his lap and I like the closeness of it. My eyes shift to his, which are watching mine with that focused intent that I love. With Noah, I always have his undivided attention. Not once has he ever zoned out when I was trying to talk to him and he seems genuinely interested in me.

  Noah's eyes lift from my lips and he searches my gaze. He must see something that gives away my wandering thoughts because he leans forward, his gaze on mine and he watches to see if I pull away before his lips finally touch mine.

  We shouldn't be doing this. I'd vowed to be his friend and nothing more but he's impossible to resist. His lips are incredibly gentle on mine as he avoids pushing too hard against my split lip. As my mouth opens to him, his tongue sweeps in and brushes against mine. My hand automatically lifts to cup the back of his head as the kiss deepens and excitement sparks within me. I can tell that Noah is being careful and he doesn't touch me but for his lips. The kiss has me wanting more but somehow he manages to pull away for both our sakes.

  He gazes down at me and carefully brushes aside a piece of hair that has fallen across my bruised cheek. His eyes are serious and there is something so intense in them that it takes my breath away.

  My heart skips a beat at the realization that I think he's officially stolen my heart. The whole darn thing. The funny thing is, I trust him with it. I know he'll never hurt me, not like others have.

  “Blayre?” he asks softly.

  “Why?” I blurt out as I gaze up at him with confusion.

  “What are you asking?”

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?” he counters back, his tone full of warmth and...possibly love?

  I draw in a deep breath and say, “I'm younger than you by five years. There are women out there that would date you in a heartbeat. Mature women that aren't still in high school and who can give you what you want and what you deserve. They come without the baggage that weighs me down. They're normal,” I whisper.

  Something flickers in his gaze and he gives me a level look. “The age difference doesn't bother me. You're more mature in some ways than most people your age and I don't think it's even relevant. Second, I could care less if there are other women out there that would date me in a heartbeat. I've dated on and off for years and I have yet to find a woman my age that actually interests me in the way that you do. I don't care that you come with baggage because you're worth it. And Blayre, you are normal, you just have a past that holds you back.”

  My eyes widen at his declaration. “I'm not ready for what you want, Noah,” I say. “I might never be.”

  “Then I'll wait,” he says steadily. “You're worth the wait.”

  “No, I'm not.”

  “You are wrong and I will prove it,” he says determinedly.

  ***

  The next day, I am sitting at the kitchen table after school doing homework when Tate comes home a little after four. I knew he was uncomfortable with the short hour that I was on my own from three to four, but it couldn't be helped because Noah's classes went until five today and then he worked tonight. I'd assured Tate I'd be fine and promised that he'd find me sitting at the table doing my homework.

  When the door that connects to the garage opens, I look up and see my brother in his police uniform, looking as intimidating as ever. “Hey,” he greets as he sets his holstered gun on the counter top and kicks off his shoes.

  “Have you ever shot anyone?” I ask curiously, my homework now forgotten.

  “Yes,” he says as he picks the gun up and enters the kitchen.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, no, I haven't killed anyone. Let me go change and then let's talk food. I'm starved,” he says before he heads down the hall to his own bedroom.

  Tate has an obsession for pizza so I stand up and dig out the phone book from one of the drawers and look up his favorite pizza place. I grab the cordless off the counter top and order a large pizza with his favorite toppings. Then I set the phone down and turn around to find Tate entering the kitchen in a pair of jeans and an old tee.

  “Who was that?” he asks as he heads for the refrigerator and grabs his usual—a beer.

  “I ordered pizza.”

  “Thanks,” he says as he pulls the top off a bottle of beer and takes a long drink before focusing his attention on me. His green eyes widen when they fall on my tee-shirt. “Tell me you did not wear that to school today.”

  I'd been in the mood to bait him today so I'd pulled on my newest thrift shop tee. After the past few days, I wanted to lighten things up. “If I had, school would have probably called you.”

  Tate shakes his head. “Go change.”

  “No way,” I say with a laugh.

  “If you want to check my oil, wrap it in foil? Seriously, Blayre?”

  “It promotes safe sex,” I say innocently.

  “I'm not talking to you with that in my face,” he says as he heads for the patio doors. “Go change and then come outside,” he says over his shoulder before he heads out to the table.

  I frown and look down at the words written across my chest. I like the tee and I'd spent five dollars on it. I'm going to continue wearing it whether he likes it or not. I head for the fridge and grab a can of soda before going outside. The temperatures are staying in the lower to mid-sixties and today I've opted for jeans. I walk over to the patio table and sit down across from him.

  He frowns at my shirt.

  “How can promoting safe sex be bad?” I tease.

  Tate shakes his head. “When you're at school sometime I'm going to get rid of it.”

  “It's replaceable. You should see all the other ones they've got there.
”

  “No thanks,” he says as he takes a drink of his beer, his eyes studying me as if there is something on his mind.

  “Out with it,” I say warily, knowing it likely has to do with Cole.

  “I did a little more digging on Cole Randall.”

  “Not surprising,” I mutter as I grab my soda and take a drink.

  “His brother, Ethan Randall, has quite the record. Were you aware that he's been in and out of jail for drugs and assault?”

  I sigh. “Paige warned me about Ethan and I was careful to avoid him.”

  “You spent most of your free time with Cole, which means you were around Ethan and that crowd since Cole lives with his brother, correct?”

  “Yes,” I say reluctantly.

  His eyes bore into mine. “Was Cole into drugs, Blayre?”

  Ah, crap. I look away because I know where this is going and it's about to get ugly.

  “That answers my question,” Tate says a bit tightly. “Did Cole pressure you to try any drugs?”

  Again, I refuse to answer him.

  There's a long moment of tense silence.

  “You did drugs with him,” he says with quiet realization, disappointment evident in his voice.

  “I'm sorry,” I say softly.

  “Look at me.” Reluctantly I look up at him and his eyes are angry and frustrated. “What were you doing, Blayre?”

  “A little of everything.”

  “Were you messing with hard-core stuff like cocaine?”

  “Once.”

  He looks away, his jaw clenching as he stares moodily at the house. “How the hell did this happen?” he says as he looks back at me accusingly. “You were supposed to be safe and sheltered with Julie and Steve. You were supposed to learn right from wrong and not get yourself drawn into stupid shit like you've been doing since you got here. I thought you were smarter than this.”

  “I guess not,” I say flatly as hurt seeps through me.

  “Obviously,” he agrees as he stands up and stalks into the house. The sliding glass door slams shut behind him—making me wince.

  I'm left alone and I stare dejectedly at the seat he'd just vacated. I deserve his anger because hard-core drugs were addicting and if I'd kept going in the direction I'd been heading, I would have become a junkie. I get his anger and I understand it. I just feel bad that I've disappointed him on so many levels lately. I've made so many bad decisions and it's only fair that I pay for them as well.

  There's a part of me that wants to go upstairs and pull out my razor but I force myself to stay put and not do what I'm itching to do. Noah's right, I need to find a way to stop doing the cutting but I wasn't going to a rehabilitation center to do it. I'd somehow find a way to figure it out myself. And secondly, cutting with Tate in the house is the worst thing I could do.

  So I sit and stare at the water, not moving.

  When I hear the sliding glass door open a bit later, I tense slightly.

  Tate moves into my line of vision and takes the chair again, his expression full of regret. “You didn't deserve that and I'm sorry.”

  Surprise flickers across my face and I stare at him.

  “I shouldn't have said the things I said. You aren't stupid and I have a feeling a lot of the things you did was due to Cole pressuring you,” he says quietly.

  “As much as I'd like to pass off the blame to him, I can't. In the end, I made the decision to do drugs and to stay with him, Tate,” I say honestly.

  “I know.”

  I fall quiet.

  “I just feel like I failed you somehow. I left you with Julie and Steve thinking that you'd turn out better than you would if I'd brought you here with me. Yet, you still got into this mess with Cole and I wish I could have somehow prevented it,” he says with a sigh as he rubs his jaw.

  “You didn't fail me,” I insist. “You did what you thought was best. Tate, you were eighteen and you had your own life to finally start living. That's what I'm trying to do, I'm just currently making a mess of it but these are my mistakes to make and learn from.”

  “Are you learning from them, Blayre? I sound like an ass but I need to know you're not going to get involved with Cole again.”

  “Cole and I are over. I swear,” I promise.

  Tate's gaze searches mine and he looks relieved. “The drugs. How drawn to them are you?”

  “I'm not addicted, Tate. Go search my room if you want.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “No, I believe you.” Then he looks at me intently. “I have to ask, is there anything else you are keeping from me?”

  Alarm shoots through me and I fight to keep it off my face. Noah... No. He wouldn't. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you kept the abuse from me and the fact that you got involved with drugs. Is there anything else I should know about, because now’s the time to lay it all out.”

  “There's nothing else,” I lie.

  “Alright. As long as we're hashing this shit out, can we revisit the topic of a restraining order?”

  “No.”

  “I'd feel better, Blayre.”

  “You would but I don't need one. Cole's not going to come after me, Tate.”

  He shakes his head, his expression grim. “I just have a bad feeling about him.”

  “I think you'd have a bad feeling about anyone I dated,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

  He hesitates and then gives me a wry smile. “True. After everything that's gone down lately, you're not dating again until you're twenty-five.”

  “Yeah, right!”

  “I'll scare off every guy that comes sniffing around you,” he says as he rises to his feet. “C'mon, pizza showed up about fifteen minutes ago.”

  We head inside and I can't help but wonder what Tate would think if he knew Noah was interested in me. Would he be angry or would he be okay with it since he knew Noah? Considering we've already messed around, I think he'd probably lean more towards anger.

  Tate pulls out some paper plates and we set up the pizza on the island counter. “How's school going?” he asks before he starts devouring a slice of pizza.

  “It sucks just as much as it did last week.”

  “Has Cole approached you?” he asks casually.

  “No,” I lie.

  “Good.”

  ***

  That night, as I get ready for bed I find a business card taped to my toothpaste in the medicine cabinet. I pull it off with a frown and study it. It's a hot-line number for self-harmer's.

  Noah.

  I flip it over and see his masculine hand writing on the back. Just think about it. With a soft sigh, I crumple up the business card and toss it in the garbage. I should have known he wouldn't let it be. It is irritating but I also know he's doing it because he cares. After years of being abused, it's amazing to feel cared about.

  My eyes lift to the mirror and I take in my bruised face. I still look pretty bad but it's my eyes that have changed. What used to look haunted now look determined. I am going to somehow make this life of mine work. I still have no intention of coming forward about the convenience store robbery but somehow, in some way—I am going to make it right. I have no idea how, but there has to be something I can do. If I could bring back Sean or even take his place, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

  But life doesn't work that way.

  I would have to figure out what comes next on my own.

  Turmoil

  Disorder in life when things should be

  more pleasing

  By Friday, my mood is upbeat as I get ready for my evening with Noah. Not even the bruises still marring my face could bring me down.

  Well, not that much anyway.

  I managed to cover a lot of them with makeup and I was wearing a light coating of lipstick to try to hide the cut on my lip. I definitely look better than I had at the beginning of the week. I pick up my brush and run it through my long hair one last time before deciding I'm ready.

  Now, all I have left to decide on is which shoe
s to wear. I head for my room and go to my closet. The boots Cole bought for me are there, along with a couple pairs of wedge sandals. I'm wearing a cute flashy silver tank top that is on the large side, over a tight black tank and a short black skirt with a slight ruffled flair around the bottom. The boots would look the best but since Cole bought them for me, I find myself a bit hesitant to wear them.

  Then my mind shifts to the last time I'd worn them for Noah. It had been the night I'd ended up in his bed. Those boots had some good memories so it didn't seem fair to toss them in the garbage because my ex had bought them for me.

  I grab them and slip them on before I change my mind.

  Speaking of Cole...I'd been a little worried this week, fully expecting him to approach me again but he'd left me alone. It had been a relief and the rest of the week had gone smoothly. Well, at least as smoothly as it could for someone like myself.

  I head downstairs and find Noah out on the patio smoking a quick cigarette as he waits for me. The rest of the house is silent due to the fact that Tate's working a late shift tonight and I'm thankful for that. If he saw me all dressed up and heading out with Noah, he'd assume it was a date.

  I knew it bothered Noah that he'd kept his interest in me a secret but after what had gone down last weekend, I think even he knows that Tate would be against us dating. It wouldn't matter to my brother that Noah is his best friend. He'd made it clear earlier in the week that he didn't want me dating anyone anytime soon.

  As I step into the cool night, I scan Noah's attire. He's wearing designer jeans that had the well-worn look and a dark burgundy short sleeve shirt that hugs his chest and shoulders in all the right places. He catches sight of me and immediately puts his cigarette out in the ashtray on the patio table. His gaze slides over me from head to toe. “I'll have to keep a close eye on you tonight,” he says lightly as he walks over to me.

  “Why?” I ask with puzzlement.

  He grins. “If I don't, some other guy will try to steal you from me. You look really good.” His eyes drop and focus on my boots. “I've never been into the boot-look but I have to say you wear them well.”