Noah reaches out and touches my arm gently so that I reluctantly look at him. When I do, he says, “If you seek the help you need, Tate and I will be right beside you the entire way. Whatever you need during that time, we'll do. We'll help you get there and we'll be here when you get out. I promise.”
I pull away, my mouth now dry with fear and anxiety. “I can't,” I say as I rise to my feet.
“You mean you won't,” Noah says quietly, his eyes full of disappointment.
“Don't look at me like that. I've had enough of that in my life,” I snap before I grab my banana and walk away.
***
When Tate takes me out to dinner that evening, I am beyond nervous. We end up at a burger joint near the mall and even though it's in the fifties, we choose to sit out on the back patio. Because of the lower temperatures, the patio is practically deserted and I appreciate it.
Once we place our orders for burger and fries, Tate relaxes in his chair and his green eyes scan my face intently. My bruises have faded so they were now easier to cover up with makeup, but I knew he saw them even through the foundation I'd put on.
I reach for my soda and take a sip as a soft breeze stirs my hair. “How's work?” I ask lightly.
“Interesting enough. Still mad at Noah?” he asks bluntly.
“Are you?” I counter back.
He sighs and rubs his jaw, staring off at some of the decorative shrubbery on the patio. “Yeah, I am.”
“He's your best friend. You should go easy on him.”
“I did,” he says dryly. “You think I put all my force into that punch? He's deaf, I don't need to blind him as well. Ah hell, he saw it coming and could have easily blocked it but didn't. I feel like an ass but I have every right to be mad.”
“You do,” I agree. “But part of the blame falls on me too, you know.”
“I'm well aware of that.”
“Good. You need to talk to him.”
“When I'm good and ready,” he says simply, reaching for his beer.
I sigh inwardly because my brother could be just as stubborn as I can be.
“Can I ask you a question?” Tate asks, his eyes on mine.
“Depends on the question.”
“If I would have come to visit you in Minnesota, do you think you would have told me?”
My heart sinks. I had known he'd likely bring it up but I'd been hoping he'd give me a break before trying to delve into the mess that resembled my life. “I don't know,” I say honestly.
He nods, not looking surprised. “Will you at least meet with Bryant, the attorney I know? Just because you meet with him doesn't mean you have to file charges or a lawsuit. It would be nice if you knew your options, Blayre.”
“There are no options,” I say, shaking my head. “They're out of my life. End of story.”
Tate's expression turns grim. “If you won't go after them, then I will.”
“Tate...”
“No, you can't talk me out of it. I'm not going to do anything illegal if that's what you're worried about. I'm a cop, I have a ton of resources at my disposal and I'm going to start digging and dissecting their life. If there's any way at all that I can legally cause problems for them, I will,” he says flatly.
“Let it go, it's not your fight,” I point out with irritation.
He glares at me. “No, it's your fight but you won't fight for yourself. Now it's mine because I refuse to let them get away with what they did to you.”
Frustration flows through my veins as I shake my head and look off into the distance. I can see the busy intersection near the mall between two shrubs on the patio.
“Blayre, you're strong and you're a fighter. Why won't you do something?”
“Because I don't want to. I don't care about them,” I snap back.
“What about yourself? I'll pay for counseling or rehabilitation, whatever you are willing to do. Will you let me help you?”
“If I wanted your help, I'd ask for it,” I say darkly.
Tate pinches the bridge of his nose with frustration. “Damn it, Blayre.”
“Damn yourself for being pushy.”
“If pushing is what it takes,” he says, dropping his hand and looking at me intently.
“For the millionth time, I am fine. You and Noah act as if I'm going to flip out and cut my wrist or something!!”
My brother's green eyes drop to the scar that is on my forearm and I quickly jerk my arm off the table and out of sight. “I think you've taken a lot of chances and one of these days you're going to go too far,” he says tightly.
“It was an accident!”
“So that makes it okay? What happens when the next accident happens to be when someone isn't home?”
“Tate, this conversation needs to end or I am leaving,” I warn.
His mouth opens to say something but our waitress walks up with our order. We both fall silent as she sets out our meal and smiles widely at Tate before sauntering back inside.
I reach for my burger and arch an eyebrow at him. “She thinks you're hot. You should get her number.”
Tate's eyes shift back to the door the pretty blonde had disappeared through. “She's kind of young,” he muses.
“She's older than me,” I point out.
“By what? A year?”
“So. You need to get out and have some fun.”
“What you really mean is you want me to be distracted by a woman so that I'll leave you alone,” he says dryly as he picks up a burger and takes a huge bite.
“Congratulations, you can put one and one together and come up with two. I'm proud of you, Tate.”
“Ha-ha. You're a brat,” he says with a laugh before his expression sobers. “I'm leaving for Minnesota tonight,” he says bluntly, putting an end to our light banter.
I choke on the bite of burger I'd just tried to swallow and wave my hands in the air with panic when it lodges in my throat. Tate looks momentarily alarmed before leaning over and slamming his hand on my back hard enough to bring up the food I'd choked on. I'm surprised I didn't cough up a lung or two as well. The chewed up piece of burger falls with a splat on my plate as I cough and draw in a couple of deep breaths of precious oxygen.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I ask hoarsely as I wince. My ribs were still sensitive and now my back ached.
“I was saving your ass. You okay?”
“Yeah,” I mumble as I grab my napkin, pick up the wad of burger I'd just choked on, and wrap it up into a ball. Ick. I look around and finally just set it next to my plate.
“The least you can do is thank me for saving your life,” Tate teases now that the drama is over.
With a roll of my eyes, I say, “Thank you, Tate.”
“You're welcome.”
My appetite has disappeared as I study him. “You're really going to Minnesota?”
“Yes,” he says as he reaches for some fries. “My flight leaves in a couple hours and I'll be back Sunday afternoon sometime.”
“You said you weren't going to do anything stupid,” I protest.
He finishes chewing and meets my gaze before saying, “I'm not. I'm going to have a little talk with them, that's all.”
“You'll lose your temper,” I argue.
“Not if I bring Bryant with. He's the voice of reason right now.”
***
I'm so bored I feel like I'm going to go out of my mind. I'm no longer mad at Noah but that doesn't mean I quit avoiding him. If all he's going to keep talking about is counseling or rehab, then I am going to continue treating him like he's got the bubonic plague.
Out of sheer boredom, I walk outside and get the paper before settling down on the couch and reading the news. The robbery is now old news and it wasn't getting as much news coverage as it did when it had first happened. I feel like total shit knowing that the odds were in Cole's and my favor. We were going to get away with it but that didn't exactly make me feel better. It just made the guilt worse sometimes.
My eyes fall o
n the want ads at the end of the paper and it finally dawns on me that it's time to get a job. I'd been here eleven weeks and if Tate didn't want me to go insane, he was going to have to agree that it was time for me to start supporting myself. Not to mention getting a job would relieve a lot of my boredom. After partying all the time with Cole, it's next to impossible to just sit around at home. That first week after the beating, I'd been relieved to hide out to some extent. But now I need to focus on something. Something positive.
I quickly jump up from the sofa and hurry to the kitchen, my mood suddenly perking up. I spread the want ads out on the island counter and search for a black marker. Once I have one in hand, I sit down on a stool and begin circling all the possibilities.
“What are you doing?”
My marker jerks across the paper as I start suddenly. My head swivels around to glare at Noah, who is standing directly behind me. “Wear a bell or something. God, you're sneaky sometimes.”
He smiles. “Sorry.” His eyes fall to the paper and he frowns as he moves to the counter to peer at the ads I've circled. “What are you doing?”
“I want a job.”
“As a stripper?” he asks a bit hoarsely.
“What?”
He points to an ad I had circled. “What do you think that is?” he asks, looking back at me intently as he watches my lips.
I frown and peer at the ad. “It's an ad for a lingerie store. Isn't it?”
“No, that's the name of a local strip club.”
“But they don't have anything that flat out says exotic dancer. All it says it they are looking for an outgoing, fun employee that is open to possibilities and moving up in the business,” I point out.
“Trust me. It's a strip club.”
My eyes swing to his and I look at him curiously. “You seem awfully sure. Been there have you?”
“Yes, for a bachelor party.”
“Hm.” I peer down at the ad and study it before turning back to him, my expression turning a bit mischievous. “You don't think I could make it as a stripper?”
His eyes darken as he meets my gaze. “Oh, you would. If you have a need to strip, my bedroom door is always open,” he murmurs before his eyes narrow. “However, Tate will likely kill you for even considering a strip joint for a job, so please tell me you're just messing around with me.”
I laugh. “I'm messin' around.”
He nods and then turns serious. “I think you should wait on the job.”
“Why?” I ask as I pick up the marker and put a large X through the stripper ad.
“Don't you have enough on your plate right now?”
I sigh and set the marker down before turning back to him. “Noah, I need this. I can't sit around the house day after day. It's driving me nuts.”
“But what about school?” he points out. “You are scrambling to do extra credit whenever possible to get your grades up. Getting a job will take time away that could have gone into doing your homework.”
“I can handle both.”
“I think it's going to be too much pressure for you,” he says simply.
“I am not going to break!”
“You're already on edge, Blayre, even if you don't know it yet.”
“I am going out of my mind with boredom. You want me to start cutting just so it gives me something to do?” I ask with irritation.
He gives me a hard look. “That is not funny.”
“I'm going crazy!” I exclaim with exasperation.
Noah sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “You're that desperate?”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine,” he says with resignation. “Soloman's has a waitress position available right now. It's part time and it's close to the shift I work. I can't guarantee you'll get it, but I'll take you there and vouch for you.”
“You're serious?”
“Yeah.”
I fling myself at him and hug him tightly with excitement. His arms wrap around me and he hugs me back before I pull back, bouncing on my feet. “What do I wear? Do you think they'll interview me today?”
Noah thinks it over. “Go wear something nice. They'll be shorthanded today, so they might rush the interview process and hire you immediately if they like you.”
***
It turns out that all it took was for Noah to put in a good word for me at Soloman's. The manager, a frazzled looking man in his forties interviewed me almost immediately and said the job was mine. On Sunday, I worked my first shift and it was a short one. Only about four hours but it was something and I felt good having something to focus on. At the end of the shift, I was given my schedule for next week and I saw that Noah was right, my shifts lined up with his. I wouldn't see him much though since the bar was in a separate room. However, knowing he was just on the other side of the restaurant would be nice.
By the time I pull up in the driveway Sunday evening, my feet ache but my mood is decent. The job wasn't high paying, but I'd made some tip money today. As I walk up to the house, I scratch the back of my neck where the white collar of the polo shirt itches the back of my neck because it's stiff and scratchy. I have a bag full of uniforms in my hand and they are all going in the wash immediately. At least the skirt wasn't half bad. It's black and almost knee length with a tiny little slit in the back. I'd worn my black wedge sandals with the uniform today and I knew I was going to have to find a different pair of shoes. The manager didn't care what the waitresses wore for shoes, just as long as it matched the simple uniform.
When I enter the house, I find Tate standing in the living room, arms crossed. I take one look at his irritated expression and grimace. After shutting the door, I drop the bag to the floor and look at him warily. “You said two months and it's been eleven weeks. What's a week matter?”
“With everything that is going on right now, the last thing you need is a job.”
“It's not a big deal, Tate! It's like four to six hours, three or four days a week. I need something to do.”
He shakes his head and motions for me to sit on the couch. He waits until I sit down before he sits near me. “Blayre, you can't just pretend that nothing has happened. Avoiding your issues is only going to make it worse.”
“You can't force me to get help if I don't want it,” I say stubbornly.
“I'm aware of that. But I'm not going to cater to your ignorance of it, either.”
I lean back against the couch and cross my arms. “Well, where does that leave us?”
“I don't know,” he says tiredly.
“How did it go in Minnesota?” I ask, deciding to switch the topic.
My brother is silent for a long minute. “It went,” he says, not giving anything away.
“What do you mean, it 'went'?”
“That's all you need to know.”
“Fine, whatever,” I say before I note that Noah's not around. I turn back and look at him expectantly. “Did you talk with Noah yet?”
“No.”
“I'm worried about your friendship with him. The longer you put it off, the more damaged your relationship will be.” I hate that they're in this funk because of me.
“I haven't spoken with him yet, but we're good, Blayre. Don't worry about it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. But it really pisses me off you guys kept it a secret. I get why you did but it still makes me mad,” he says pointedly.
I nod. “It's not going to happen again.”
He gives me a knowing look. “I've seen the way you look at him. Deny it all you want, but you like him just as much as he likes you. Just be careful. I don't want to see either of you hurt.”
“I've been completely up front with Noah from the start.”
Tate shakes his head. “I wish you were that upfront with yourself.”
Defeat
Overcome with defeat
I thought life was complicating enough when I unloaded all my emotional drama on Noah. That was nothing compared to my brother knowing most of my di
rty little secrets. He kept leaving me packets to find that contained information on rehabilitation centers. He'd made it clear to me on a daily basis that he didn't approve with my method of dealing with my past and he refused to make it easy on me. He insisted ignoring my issues would make it worse in the long run. I knew he was right but as a legal adult, I still refused to sign myself away to rehab.
And I had thought Noah was bad with all those little hot-line cards.
Thank God for my job at the time. I swear, during that time, it was the only thing that kept me sane. At least when I was working my mind was busy and there was no chance of it wandering into dangerous territory.
As for Cole...well, surprisingly enough, he left me alone. It wasn't long before I noticed he had a pretty new girlfriend, a sophomore. I saw them in the halls and the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. It bothered me that he had moved on so fast but I tried not to let it get to me.
I realize now that Cole had been an addiction. He had been from day one. I didn't need him in my life anymore because at that point, I had managed to finally break that cycle. That didn't stop me from snooping though. His girlfriend, Jenna, was a little petite cheerleader who came from a good Christian family.
I knew what he was doing.
He was going to corrupt her slowly until she needed him like she needed to breathe. It's what Cole does. That's his high—his rush. He likes to destroy people and that's all I had been to him. I'd been someone to conquer, someone to push to their limit. In a way, I'd been his drug of the moment.
I wanted to warn Jenna. I wanted to do something—anything—to save her the pain he'd cause her. But I didn't. I figured it was pointless. Paige had repeatedly warned me right from the start and I ignored all her warnings. Jenna, with all those stars in her pretty blue eyes would ignore any warning I gave. She would learn what Cole was the hard way.
I remember wishing I could do more but I had my own problems to deal with.
Unraveled (Twisted Series) Page 15
