Sweet Insanity (Sweet Series Book 1)

by Desiree Adele

  His eyes close tightly as he releases a disdainful chuckle. “Really?” He shoves his face into mine, his voice low and angry. “Well, I think this is the perfect place. In fact . . .” He calls out, gaining the attention of the twelve seasoned fighters in the class, “Why don’t we have a little demonstration, huh?”

  The middle of the room clears as everyone backs away, almost forming into a perfect circle. My teeth grind. He’s throwing my words back in my face.

  I move to stop this. “Zack—”

  He cuts me off, pinning me with a harsh glare. “What? Doesn’t the whole world know that Dahlia Anastas never backs down from a fight?”

  No one else notices the insult. No, they stand back and nod, completely unaware of the example Zack is trying to make of me.

  Suddenly I go from angry to enraged. He has the fucking nerve to show up here, bitter and pissed off at me after he came home piss-drunk with cocaine in his pocket after three days of me being worried sick about him? He wants to fight? Fine, let’s have a fight.

  Jutting my chin out, I make my way to the center of the circle to face him. His expression doesn’t waver, but I spot a small trace of fear behind his eyes as we take our stances.

  He jabs with his right fist and I sidestep to dodge, preparing my counterstrike, which he blocks with his forearm. He wraps his hand around my wrist to pull me into his body.

  “I wasn’t going to use,” he says, holding tightly so I can’t pull away. “I didn’t even know the drugs were there. But you would have known that already if you would have simply asked me instead of assuming they were mine.”

  Yanking my wrist back but keeping hold of his arm, I duck under his shoulder and twist his arm behind his back, making him bare his teeth and inhale on a sharp hiss.

  Leaning into him, I say, “So you mean to tell me that some magical coke fairy dropped it into your pocket? I’m not that stupid, Zack.”

  He arches his head down, giving me his profile. “It was a streetwalker in Delford.”

  Red. All I see is red clouding my vision, and I push his back to get him away from me. He was in Delford with a fucking hooker?

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask bitterly as I thrust my heel into his gut.

  Since he’s not wearing any protective gear, it knocks the wind out of him with a grunt, but he recovers quickly and regains his footing. His expression is still filled with stone-cold determination, yet his form says otherwise. It’s like he’s fighting against himself in some way.

  “What would you do if I said something did happen with her?” he says.

  My entire body seizes up, my breathing hard and erratic, but he’s not done as he advances toward me.

  “You’d do the same thing you’ve been doing for months.”

  I throw another jab, but he blocks it.

  “Run,” he says before his upper lip curls into a snarl. “That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? What if I told you she had her hands on me and I didn’t push her away, hmm . . . ?”

  My fists quake as I struggle to hold up my guard.

  He goes on until his words cut me to the bone. “What if I wanted them on me?” I’m frozen as he presses his lips against my ear. “She tasted so good.”

  He may not have hit me, but I feel as though every ounce of air has left my body. I lunge forward to take him down, but he grabs my shoulders and sweeps my legs out from under me, sending me to the mat while he falls over me, his arms bracketing either side of my head. Pinning me with his body and his sapphire stare.

  “Nothing happened,” he claims in a harsh whisper. “The fact that you would think I would betray you like that tells me all I need to know about where I stand with you.”

  I don’t say anything, just stare at the man who, for a brief time, made my heart feel full to bursting. But now he’s tearing it to shreds.

  “You didn’t even give me the chance to try to explain.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Would it?” His eyes soften the barest amount. Whether with hope or forfeiture, I’m unsure.

  God, I want to believe him. So badly. But drugs turn clever people into conniving, manipulative sociopaths. They’ll pretend if they have to. Do anything to get what they want, to feed the insatiable monster clawing at their insides no matter how steep the cost.

  Keeping my eyes on his, I shake my head, because I refuse to be placated. Not again. And I won’t nail myself to the proverbial cross for someone else’s sin.

  He shuts his eyes. “So that’s it then.” He pins me with a glare. “Doesn’t matter what I say or what we’ve been through. Doesn’t fucking matter that I could lose my father. You’re just going to turn your back and walk the other way, fleeing like a fucking ghost afraid to fight her demons, afraid to fight for us.”

  My throat works on a swallow as I try to find my voice. “I can’t do this again.”

  I can’t risk everything I’ve done in my life to erase the past only to watch someone else I love stumble onto the same path and drag me along with them.

  His jaw clenches so tightly I can hear his teeth grinding, a vein popping from his temple. He leans down with hooded eyes, almost as if he’s going to kiss me, but stops short of my lips and utters words that send my heart straight into oblivion.

  “Then what makes you think you’re any different from your mother?”

  I shove him off me onto his side. “Get out.” When he doesn’t leave, I scream at the top of my lungs, not giving a shit what the other students hear, “Get the fuck out of my studio!”

  He has the grace to look ashamed and gives me a once-over, anguish darkening his features. I sit on the blue mats with my hands just barely holding me up.

  “All I’d ever wanted was your heart.” He turns and walks toward the door. “It’s just a shame you don’t have one.”

  WHEN I MAKE IT BACK to my place, the door slams, the force rattling everything nearby to include Keith and the redhead he has propped up on the kitchen counter while he stands between her legs. Their heads snap up toward me, Keith looking mildly annoyed at the interruption, while the girl has a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

  I don’t know if it’s the red hair, even though it’s not the same shade, but all I see when I look at her are Dahlia’s eyes. Her blue eyes blazing with ferocity while the soft curves of her face sharpen and contort with pain.

  I did that to her. I spat out more hateful things than I’ve ever said to the one person I need now more than ever.

  The drive back from Dahlia’s studio was mostly a blur, pure adrenaline pumping through my veins as I held the wheel in an iron grip, my lungs burning with the need to breathe. But halfway back, my grip loosened and my chest became heavy as horror struck me like a bolt of lightning. The realization of what I’ve done stole over me.

  It’s not what I intended to do when I went there. But as I stared at Dahlia through the window, looking so normal and unaffected—like she hadn’t abandoned me, like she didn’t even fucking care—something inside me snapped. She didn’t leave me in the same way my mother did, or my father could, but that makes it worse. When Dahlia left me, she did it with purpose and resolve.

  Whether it was because of the drugs or something else, I feel like she was waiting to leave. Like the fighter she is, Dahlia always has her next move lined up. She’ll do anything to walk away victorious, anything to keep herself safe because it’s all she knows how to do. A hard lesson she took away from her childhood.

  All I wanted was to change that. To be the one to make her feel safer than her cold indifference ever could. But the truth is, I can’t. I never even had a fucking shot. I’ll never be enough. Why should I think I’d be enough for Dahlia when I wasn’t even enough to keep my mother alive?

  Maybe Dahlia has it right. Tuck all of your feelings away and lock that shit up tight. Put up an impenetrable shield. Let your heart harden until nothing and no one can break through, then you’ll always be safe. Life cannot kill what is already dead.r />
  And that’s exactly how I feel as I amble over to the refrigerator. The glare Keith shoots in my direction doesn’t affect me in the slightest while I retrieve an energy drink and sit on the couch.

  I hear an exasperated sigh and the rustle of the redhead sliding off of the kitchen island. I don’t give a shit that I interrupted him. All he had to do was take it up to his fucking room for once.

  The front door opens, and the chick smiles at Keith the way I would at Dahlia. As though she was the only thing that mattered to me. And she was. Too bad this chick is destined to suffer the same cruel fate as me. Sure, Keith will return her smitten looks and bright grins, but only until he’s gotten what he brought her here for. Then she’s out the door just as another walks through.

  Smacking her lightly on the ass, he shuts the door before turning back to glare at me. “You know, you need to work on your timing, Z.” He throws himself on the nearby armchair. “I can already feel my balls turning blue.”

  I snort. “With as many times as you’ve busted those things in random girls, I’m surprised they haven’t shriveled into prunes.”

  “What crawled up your ass and died?” he asks snidely. “I swear, you used to be fun until Chun Li came into the picture.”

  Pain slices through my chest. It must be written all over my face because Keith, thankfully, doesn’t press further.

  He walks over to the liquor cabinet by the fridge, pours two shots of Jack Daniels, and walks back, holding one of the glasses out to me. “Bottoms up, man.”

  He clinks his glass with mine, and I toss it back, welcoming the spreading warmth in my throat and belly. It washes over the throbbing ache in my chest, numbing it for a moment before the pain returns. So much for not binge-drinking anymore.

  We throw back shots until I can’t feel anything and my fingers fumble over the buttons of the controller while we play Call of Duty. Keith passes out before I do, and I use the controller to shut off the console. My vision lags as I look toward the stairs. No way in hell I’m going to make it up there on my own. Grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch, I huddle up, resting my head on the arm, and close my eyes. I try desperately not to think about the last time I fell asleep here, with Dahlia’s hair tickling my nose and her warm arms wrapped around me.

  The potency and amount of whiskey I drank has me dead to the world in seconds, whisking me away into an oblivion I wish I never had to leave.

  But hours later, much to my dismay, I wake up feeling a thousand times worse.

  “GIRL, ARE YOU GETTING THE flu again? You look like death,” Lexi chirps as she slides into the bench next to me with a tray full of food.

  I snort, staring at the mutilated sandwich on my plate. I haven’t taken a single bite, just sat here and picked away at the bread so it looks as though a family of rats got to it.

  “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

  “Like what?” I mutter before bringing my bottled water to my lips.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you and Zack broke up?”

  Ugh, so it’s just as I feared. The whole fucking campus knows that Zack and I fought.

  She shoves a chip in her mouth, the crunching sound nearly driving me insane. “Word does get around fast.”

  As if I wasn’t already aware of that fact.

  “So talk to me.”

  My fingers dig into my burning eyes. “It’s complicated.”

  I hope she’ll let it go, but of course she doesn’t. “And I’m a psychology major.” She shrugs. “I think I can figure it out.”

  I throw my hands up and slap my thighs. “I really don’t want to discuss it right now, okay?” I don’t mean for that to come out as harsh as it does.

  She pauses in a chew, her eyebrows high. “Yeah, okay.” She tosses her cutlery onto her tray, swinging one of her legs over the bench. “Asking my best friend to confide in me. What was I even thinking, right?”

  Sweet baby Jesus on fire, I’m just on a fucking roll today, aren’t I?

  I turn to her before she can leave. “Lexi, I’m just—” I sigh. “I’m still trying to process what happened, okay?” My voice breaks as tears burn the backs of my eyes.

  Her eyes flick toward the doorway, but she sits back down, wrapping an arm around me and tugging me close. “I just want to be here for you, D. That’s what people who love each other do.”

  With that, the dam breaks and I burst into tears in the middle of the dining hall. People glance at me while huddling together and sharing curious whispers as I sob into Lexi’s bright yellow sweater.

  Yes, that’s what people do when they love each other. That’s what I should have done for Zack and that’s what my mother should have done for me. But we didn’t, and we both let down the people we love the most.

  “I’LL BE THERE, POP,” I tell my dad after he gives me the date of his bone scan.

  “It’s just a precaution. Try not to jump to conclusions, okay?”

  Yeah, just like Mom went in for a routine check-up and walked out with a cancer diagnosis. It’s sad that my dad is the one comforting me when I’m the one who should be comforting him.

  I pick at a hangnail on my thumb, peeling the skin away until it’s raw and bleeding. “You’ll tell me if you need anything, right?”

  He chuckles. “Of course, Son. Your brother took a temporary leave from work to stay at the house. I plan on putting his ass to work as payback for never calling me.”

  I snuff out a laugh, feeling a little better knowing Finn is there. I’m prepared to drop classes if I need to, but that would jeopardize my spot on the team. And knowing my father, he’d lay into me if he found out I got kicked off the team. Even if it was to help him.

  “By the way, I had to hear from Keith that you’re seeing a girl? What’s her name?”

  Fucking fat-mouthed Keith.

  I suck the blood pooling on my thumb. “Actually, we aren’t seeing each other anymore. It didn’t work out.”

  Because protecting herself matters more than being with me. Not that I can say that to Dad.

  “Ah, well, that’s too bad.” He sounds much more disappointed than I would have expected. “I met your mother in college, you know.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. She hated me at first, believe it or not. Spent my entire sophomore year trying to talk to her.”

  Sounds eerily familiar to my situation with Dahlia. As much as I loved making her smile, it was too much fun to press her buttons and see the sexy little scowl before she let me have it.

  “She was worth it though. I loved her very much. Still do.” He sniffs, and it breaks my fucking heart.

  “I miss her too,” I say, fighting back my own emotions.

  “There are no guarantees in life. If you really want something, you need to give it your all. You need to fight for it. Fight for her, Son.”

  Fight for her? I fucking fought like hell, giving her my heart that she shattered into a million pieces.

  Yes, I gave it my all. I was prepared to lay myself at her feet, give her my everything and more. But it means nothing when she won’t do the same for me. I’m no expert on love or relationships, but I know that kind of love needs to be reciprocated. And the second things got a little tough, Dahlia ran like a deer in the woods. Back into hiding where she’s safe. How can I fight for her when she can’t be bothered to fight for me?

  “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you,” he says. “I’ll see you next week?”

  “Promise, Pop.”

  I press the end call button as Keith strides into the living room with a bright orange sports drink in hand.

  “Your dad doing okay?” he asks, twisting the cap off the bottle.

  “As well as can be expected.”

  He nods, swallowing as he looks at the hockey match on TV. “I know you haven’t been much of a partier the last few months, but we need to fucking celebrate being in the playoffs. Kickass music, top-shelf booze. Get your mind off your troubles.”

>   He’s referring to my dad. Keith doesn’t pay a lick of attention to the gossip birds, so he probably has no idea about Dahlia and me. Hell, if he did pay attention to all the shit that was going around, he’d be shocked to hear what people say about him. Actually, no, he wouldn’t. Ninety percent of it is the truth. Keith just cares about what people think even less than I do.

  And even though having a party is the last thing I want, he does have a point. Despite everything working against us this season, we still made it to the fucking playoffs, and that’s reason to celebrate. Maybe hanging out with the guys and letting loose a little bit is just what I need.

  I’M HAPPY TO FINALLY BE home and away from the prying eyes of the campus vultures. Each passing stare felt as if it was tearing tiny bits of flesh from my bones, and I walked home beaten, battered, and exposed. I can’t even imagine what they’re saying about me. Breaking down in the dining hall with Lexi earlier this week certainly didn’t help matters.

  I miss being able to walk through the hall without being stared at by people who obviously need to go get lives of their own. When Zack and I were together, snide glares and sneers followed me everywhere I went. As if I was some lowly peasant they deemed unworthy of their king.

  At the time, I didn’t care about the way they looked at me. I only cared about Zack. And he looked at me as though I was the only thing that mattered to him. Except for a few days ago, when he pinned me with a stare so sharp, it took my breath away. As though he’d just realized they were all right about me.

  “Paidí mou?” Christos calls from the kitchen. “In here,” I say from the hall as I slip off my flats and toss my bag on the floor.

  Walking into the hallway, holding a pale green dish towel, he takes one look at my puffy eyes and red cheeks and tosses the towel back into the kitchen. He closes the distance between us in a few short strides. “What is wrong, Dahlia?”