by K. Webster
“Y-You,” Cuntingham chokes out.
I don’t give him a second to get his words out. With a growl, I snatch him by the hair and drag his pussy ass out of the party. He cries out like a bitch when I toss him outside and into the yard like yesterday’s trash. Turning on my heel, I head back into the party.
“Isaiah and Gunther?”
Two guilty as fuck dudes freeze. I don’t have to do anything except glower at them. They rush out of the house without argument.
Kayden easily calms the group like he was born to command people, much like his brother. He barks out a few orders and the crowd disperses.
“Renaldo sent you to babysit me because some Rockfords are here.” His jaw clenches, irritation present in every tick of his facial muscles. “I can handle a few fucking Rockfords.”
“I just do what I’m told.” I shrug. “Is Cunningham going to be a problem?”
“Nope. He owes me. We have a deal. He keeps his dad and the cops off our asses, and I keep him and his crew supplied.” His head cocks to the side, studying me with obvious distaste. “Are you going to be a problem?”
You better fucking believe it, asshole.
“Guess we’ll find out,” I say instead.
His jaw clenches. “I don’t need you here watching over me. I have this shit handled.”
I don’t sense any threats, so I’m sure as hell not staying. With a clipped nod his way, I turn on my heel and head out the door. I’ve barely made it over the threshold when baby Ramirez calls out to me.
“Stay away from my goddamn girlfriend or I’ll cut your throat,” he bites out.
He could try.
I offer him my finger and saunter away from his bratty ass.
“If I found out it was you who left those hickeys on her neck,” he yells after me, “I’ll make you pay.”
I reach my car and turn my head to look at him. He stands in the yard, a new gun in his hand at his side and a murderous scowl on his face. With all the hatred I can muster, I sear my glare into him.
He’s a fucking kid.
I will destroy him if I have to.
And seeing that he’s involving Roux in all his bullshit, I might just have to.
“You know I can’t stay away from her.” I lick my bottom lip, smirking a little. “She’s my best friend’s little sister.” I laugh. “I’m going to see her every goddamn day. All goddamn day. Hell, I might even bump into her at night on the way to the bathroom.”
He storms my way, raising his gun at me, pointing it right in my face like he actually has the balls to use it. I don’t flinch, just eye him up like he’s a piece of shit stuck to my shoe.
“Touch her, motherfucker, and see what happens. I don’t give a fuck what sort of agreement our brothers have,” he snarls. “I will kill you.”
Not if I kill you first, little boy.
“Bye, baby Ramirez.”
I climb into the car and peel out, sending gravel spraying all over that idiot. When he raises his weapon and fires into the sky, I laugh.
Then, cold dread settles over me.
This kid is an angry little shit and has his claws deep in my girl.
He’s a problem. A problem I absolutely need to deal with.
Roux
Charlotte’s mom, Kelsey, is like the mom I never had.
Sweet. Loving. Caring.
Of all the years I’ve known her, she has always been calm and collected. Not once have I seen her lose her shit. Until now.
“You’ve lost your damn mind,” Kelsey seethes, her body trembling as she shakes a finger at Charlotte.
Charlotte wears a bored expression as she yawns, her eyes darting to the clock. “It was just a party. Roux overreacted.”
Hollis snaps his head her way. “She didn’t overreact. That dickhead took advantage of you.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Charlotte snaps, tears welling in her eyes. “I love him. What we do in the bedroom is none of your damn business.”
“You’re seventeen, baby,” Kelsey says, her voice softening. “It’s absolutely my business.”
Charlotte turns her white-hot glare my way. “This is all your fault. Since when did you become a narc? I thought we were closer than that.”
Guilt hits me like a ten-ton pile of bricks. I shrink back from her words. It breaks my heart hearing her talk like this.
“I’m calling Dad,” Hollis says, cutting through the thick tension with a loaded statement of his own.
Charlotte gapes at him, her bottom lip trembling. “I thought you weren’t talking to him.”
“We talk,” Hollis grits out. “Just because I haven’t forgiven him for what he did when he found out I was gay doesn’t mean I still don’t want a relationship with him. He’s my dad too.”
“Don’t call him,” she pleads.
Kelsey nods her head at Hollis. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” she says to her daughter. “Maybe your dad can get through to you.”
I know of all the things Kelsey could do to her, calling Char’s dad is the worst. Not because he’d be mean, but because she’s a daddy’s girl. Even with him all the way in Vermont, she has him wrapped around her finger. She and Penny both do. Whatever they want, all they have to do is call and it’s suddenly theirs.
Charlotte starts to cry and I ache to go to her. Instead, I curl my arms around my waist, fighting tears of my own. Kelsey gives me a sad, knowing look. She knows what this is doing to our friendship.
“Dad?” Hollis says. “Yeah, I know it’s late. My stomach is fine.” A pause. “It’s Charlotte.” He pauses again. “Hold on. Let me put you on speaker phone.”
Charlotte shoots me a horrible glare. One that will haunt me in my dreams. She’s never looked at me with such hatred. My gut hollows out as tears leak freely down my face.
“Princess?” Garrett says, his voice tense with worry.
“Hi, Daddy.” A sob from Charlotte. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”
Kelsey sits beside Charlotte and tries to take her hand, but she swats it away.
“I have a boyfriend. We did some stuff. Now everyone is on my case. I’m sorry, okay? Can we just drop it?” Her bottom lip trembles. “I’m fine.”
“Is your mother there?”
“Right here,” Kelsey says with a tired sigh.
“I’m booking a flight and coming to visit,” Garrett states. “From the stuff Hollis told me this morning, and now this, I think my presence is needed.”
I shoot Hollis a questioning look. He shrugs it off.
“You have work,” Charlotte says sadly, though I notice the hopeful gleam in her eyes. She misses her dad so much.
“Work isn’t my primary concern, honey,” he says softly. “You are. I’m going to fly out there and we’ll work everything out. Okay?”
“Okay,” Charlotte croaks. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Garrett replies. “Just be good and stay with your mother until I get there. Can you do that for me?”
Tears race down her red cheeks and she nods. “I can. I miss you.”
“Miss you too, sweetheart. Hollis, take me off speaker.”
Hollis mashes a button and then disappears with his phone.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and shower?” Kelsey says. “We can talk after you’ve cleaned up.”
Charlotte tries to stand, but her legs give out. Kelsey frowns. My brows scrunch with worry. When Charlotte notices my expression, she goes off on me.
“Stop looking at me like that, Roux! Like you’re better than me! Like your boyfriend isn’t a damn gangster!” She swipes angrily at her tears. “Why are you even here? You’re not wanted. Leave. Leave!”
Kelsey tries to calm her shrieking. I stand up, stung by her words, and start for the front door.
“Don’t walk home,” Kelsey calls out. “Just wait for Hollis. I’m going to get her upstairs and into the shower.”
With Kelsey
to lean on, Charlotte manages to stand up. She may still be fucked up on drugs, but her anger cuts through the haze like a knife.
“I hate you,” she whispers. “So much.”
Kelsey shakes her head. “She does not. She’s just upset.”
“I hate her!” Charlotte shrieks. “She’s trying to ruin my life!”
Needing an escape, I turn on my heel and run out the front door. As soon as the warm air hits my face, I burst into tears. I sit down on the front step and hug my knees to my chest.
What’s happening to my life?
I don’t recognize it anymore.
It’s not fun or silly or hopeful.
It’s dreadful and scary and sad.
I cry until I hear the rumble of an engine. A navy-blue Camaro pulls into the driveway and the headlights cut off. The door swings open and Jordy climbs out.
Big, strong, loyal Jordy.
He takes one look at me and strides across the lawn on one mission.
Me.
I cry out when he grabs my arms, hauling me to my feet and into his arms. He hugs me tight, nuzzling my hair. At least if my world is going to break apart, Jordy can hold me together. Gently, he strokes my hair and whispers assurances that I feel more than hear. It isn’t until we hear the front door open, that he pulls away.
“How did it go?” Hollis asks, coming down the steps to stand beside us. I can feel the heat of his stare as he takes in how Jordy still grips my hands.
“Fine. I kicked Cuntingham out of the party. His loser friends too.” Jordy nods at the house. “How did it go here?”
“Dad’s coming,” Hollis replies.
“Same dad who ran you out of Vermont?” Jordy asks.
“Same one. He’s working on his issues,” Hollis says with an exhausted sigh. “Are you going to take Roux home? I wanted to talk to Mom about this stuff. But if you have somewhere to be—”
“I can take her,” Jordy grunts out, interrupting him.
Hollis sweeps his eyes over us once more before turning on his heel and going back inside. Jordy tugs me toward the Camaro. He opens the passenger side door and waits for me to get inside before closing it. As I wait for him to join me, I skim my gaze over the expensive interior. I’m not sure I want to know how he got this car.
Probably same way Kayden got his.
Sickness roils in my belly. Jordy gets in the vehicle and fires up the engine. The drive to our apartment at Mike’s is only a minute or so away. We remain in silence until he parks in the driveway.
“Come on,” he grunts out, reaching over to pat my thigh. “We’ll talk inside.”
I follow him up to the garage apartment. He makes his way into the kitchen and starts to rummage around.
“Grab a shower, Roux. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
I nod and escape his intense presence. Everything about Jordy is so heady and intoxicating. He makes me forget about all the bad stuff and only focus on him. Problem is, I can’t afford to forget about the bad stuff. I need to fix it.
After a quick shower, I pull on some of Hollis’s old sweatpants he gave me and a hoodie that used to be Roan’s. The clothes swallow me, but they’re comforting and warm. I find Jordy in the kitchen, at the stove, making something that smells too good. No one cooks anything good at our house. Mostly, we reheat whatever stuff Karen or Kelsey make and send our way.
Needing to touch Jordy, I make my way over to him, hugging him from behind. He’s tense at first, but relaxes in my arms. I love the way he smells. A hint of citrus mixed with a slight leather scent. Considering I’ve never seen him with leather or a bag of limes, I wonder if it’s just his unique smell. Regardless, it’s my favorite. I think it always has been.
“Whatcha cookin’?” I ask, gently running my palm along his hard abs over his T-shirt.
“Grilled gouda and tomato sandwiches.”
I scrunch my nose, pulling away to peek around him. “Did you rob a Whole Foods while I was in the shower?”
He laughs. “Nope. Surprisingly, your brother had this stuff on hand. Not sure why since all he knows how to do is make white people grilled cheese he probably learned from his old man.”
White people grilled cheese?
Jordy’s mom is Mexican, but their dad is white. He’s always claimed his Latino roots only while pretty much ignoring the fact he’s a product of both Hispanic and Caucasian parents.
“They’ve been working out a lot lately and have been eating strange things,” I admit. “But Roan still makes the best grilled cheese ever.”
Jordy rolls his eyes as he plates two sandwiches. I grab us a couple of cans of Pepsi from the fridge and sit down with him at our small kitchen table. The sandwich is rich and savory, something I wasn’t expecting. I groan because it’s really good.
“That was an mmmm,” Jordy says with a knowing smirk. “Told you.”
“Don’t tell Roan,” I say while chewing. “Keep this between us.”
His eyes darken, roaming down my face to my lips. “We’ll have to. Otherwise he’ll kill me.”
We’re not talking about grilled gouda and tomatoes anymore.
Conversation ceases to a halt as we eat our late dinner. My mind drifts to Kayden and how he scared the hell out of me. Then, how my fears ratcheted even more seeing Charlotte passed out with three guys around her.
“This was good,” I murmur as I stand. “Thank you.”
He follows me into the kitchen, also depositing his plate into the sink. I turn and face him, gnawing on my lip. His dark brown eyes skate down to my neck and his nostrils flare. Absently, I touch the tender spot that was worsened by Kayden’s brutal grip.
“About last night,” Jordy starts. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry. I was drunk, but that’s no excuse.”
“I liked it,” I whisper, stepping closer. “A lot.”
His jaw clenches when I tentatively reach up to press my palm to his chest. The thundering of his heart thumps against my hand. He rests his own hand over mine.
“It shouldn’t have happened for so many reasons, Roux. So many reasons.”
Stung by his words, I frown. “What reasons?”
“For one, you’re underage. I could go back to prison for what we did.”
Cold dread runs through my system. “We didn’t have sex,” I croak out. “Cuddling isn’t against the law.”
“No, but the things we did…”
“We didn’t even kiss,” I hiss. “Stop it. You’re doing it again. Retreating into yourself in an effort to save me. I’m sick of it.”
I start to pull away, but his hand flies to my hip, pulling me flush against him. His fingers thread into my damp hair and he tugs my head back.
“I can’t have you, Roux.” He leans down and presses the softest kiss to my lips. “At least not yet.”
He didn’t say never.
I part my lips, begging for more than a peck, but he pulls his head back. A storm of emotions brew in his dark eyes. I can feel how much he’s attracted to me by how his erection presses into me. But this boy has the strength of a saint and he doesn’t act on any of it.
“When?” I whisper.
“You know when.”
Eighteen.
March, not August.
I’ll die from want.
“I broke up with Kayden.” I study his face for a reaction. He gives off nothing aside from the flash of triumph in his eyes. It makes my heart flutter.
“He didn’t seem like someone who’d been broken up with when I saw him.”
I shudder, remembering what Kayden said to me. How he’d hurt me and told me we weren’t broken up. “He said no,” I admit. “A fight broke out and then I left.”
“If you want to break up with him,” Jordy growls, “that’s your choice, not his. What the fuck is his problem?”
“I don’t know, but he’s not the same guy I started dating in March.”
“Because he’s a fucking thug.”
“Which makes me scared for you,” I
breathe, my eyes burning with tears. “What if he…”
“He won’t do shit to me,” Jordy assures me in his usual arrogant tone. “I won’t allow it.”
I hope that’s true. I don’t want to worry about Kayden’s jealousy getting out of control and him hurting Jordy. I would die if something happened to Jordy.
“I love you,” I blurt out.
He grins, boyish and handsome. “Love you too, Little Hoodlum.”
But not like he thinks. I loved him growing up like he was a brother. Not anymore. The moment I saw him behind that glass at the prison, something inside me shifted. I haven’t been able to think of anyone, especially Kayden, since.
Only Jordy.
And when he showed up at the river, I’d been completely consumed by him. Waiting until I turn eighteen to see if we can pursue this burning desire between us feels like an eternity. I waited three years, though, for him to get out of prison. What’s seven more months to have him fully?
“Charlotte hates me,” I tell him, resting my cheek on his chest. “She told me as much.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“No, she won’t.”
He strokes my hair. “If your brother can get over the fact I nearly drowned his then-wannabe-boyfriend, then Charlotte can get over you trying to protect her from a gang of douchebags. Just give her some time.”
I think about going to school next week for my senior year and not having my best friends by my side. Without Charlotte and Kayden, everything will be like it was before the English family moved to Hood River.
Lonely.
Desolate.
Horrible.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I murmur, mostly to myself.
“You’re not alone. You have me. You always have.”
Jordy
The Haunt’s “Why Are You So Cold?” blares through the AirPods Cal gave me. I’m thankful to drown out the noise of the cooks at El Juarez, who have been talking nonstop about pussy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pussy man, but I don’t want to hear about it twenty-four-fucking-seven.
Especially when all I can think about is one girl.
And just how sweet her pussy will be.
One day.
