Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1) (8 page)

BOOK: Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1)
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Scarlett wore a short black mini skirt and a white tank top. She wore biker boots and the only color I could spot was in the tattoos running down her arms. Her hair was in a braid going over her shoulder and she wore spikes in her ears. She put on heavy black eyeliner and dark eye shadow. She reminded me of the gothic group in high school that I avoided. I wondered if all the people I pushed away could have meant as much to me as Scarlett did to me now, if I had only given them a chance.
 

"Ready?" she asked, looking at me in the mirror.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I admitted.
 

She nodded and I followed her out of the apartment. We walked past her car and to the street. I figured in this little town, anything could be walking distance. I followed her down the sidewalk, hoping my feet would hold up for the journey. The town looked different during the night. The streets, that looked alive during the day with neighbors and old time friends, were dead in the darkness. All the buildings were dark and the sidewalks were deserted. Eventually, I spotted the only light on that shone down on the vintage sign.
 

"Hank's?" I asked incredulously.
 

"Only place we can go around here, babe. Unless we plan on driving," she explained. I didn't want either one of us driving. I lost enough due to driving.
 

Walking into the bar with Scarlett was different from when I walked in here a few nights ago alone. Everyone stopped to see who was entering, but then went back to their business. A few eyes lingered on our bodies a little longer, but it wasn't because we were so out of place. Scarlett confidently led us straight to the bar. The older man, I remembered as Hank, stood behind the bar and waited for us to approach.
 

"You again?" he asked me.

"You remember me?"

"It's not often we get someone new in here, sweetheart," he said with a friendly smile. "I thought you were just lost."

"Well, now I'm a little stuck," I said as I looked around nervously. All hopes of blending in or hiding behind Scarlett's shadow were shattered. Without asking, he made me a mojito like the ones I was drinking the other night. I smiled back at him and took the drink to distract myself.

"Scarlett?" he asked.

"Shots. Tequila," she said, motioning to the two of us. She slapped down a wad of cash and two shot glasses replaced the money. She took one and handed the other to me. I hesitated with panic; I'd never taken shots before. "To first shots," she said, giving me a huge grin.

I watched her put the glass to her lips and dump the golden liquid down her throat before she slammed it back on the bar. Empty. I learned not to smell if before, so I followed her lead and tossed my head back, swallowing all the liquor in one gulp. I shook my head and bounced on my heels to rid the burn that ran through me. We both laughed together, like someone just told a joke.

"What are you two doing here?" a deep voice interrupted. I looked up to see Ryder glaring down at his sister. He was wearing jeans and a black, tight tee shirt. His arms and hands were still covered in grease stains. I took a sip of my mojito and got ready to watch the exchange.
 

"Hanging out. Mind your own," Scarlett snipped, putting her hand in his face and turning it away from us.

"Looks like trouble to me," he said with his eyes on me. I felt them travel from my toes, up my bare legs, and then to my face, lingering on my chest longer than needed. My body was warm everywhere his look touched. I squirmed to rid my skin of the unwanted heat.

"Someone being a protective big brother?" I teased to break the tension.

"Please, four minutes doesn't count," Scarlett said, waving off my comment. The shot was already in my blood because I laughed harder than I should have. "Keep them comin', Hank."

Two more shots appeared in front of us and I took it without thinking this time. I used the mojito to cover up the burn in my throat, which was a genius idea on my part. Ryder took a stool next to his sister, but didn't try to stop us. He drank his beers and ignored the loud drunk girls next to him. Shortly after, we wandered over to the jukebox.

"What you wanna play?" Scarlett asked with slurred words. Hank honored her demand and kept the shots coming for us.
 

"You pick," I said, leaning up against the machine for support. The alcohol was making me feel warm and light inside. I forgot what I was doing here in the first place.
 

"Maybe we don't need to pick a song," Ryder's voice came from behind us as he put an arm over each of us. We both leaned into his strong body as he led us back to the bar where we started. When we were both plopped on stools, he spun Scarlett around to look at her. "What's eating you?"
 

"Nothing," she said, shoving him back and grabbing my hand.
 

She pulled me off my stool before I could even catch up with their conversation. She stopped in between a few tables, lifted my hands above my head, and started moving to music I could barely hear. I moved with her and swayed my hips to the beat as well. Finally, the music was turned up louder.
 

I closed my eyes and danced to the music. Scarlett never let go of my hand and I couldn't tell if I was protecting her, or the other way around. Anytime someone came to join our little circle, we would move away. After a few dances in our own little world, large strong hands grabbed onto my shoulders.
 

"We need to go," a voice rasped in my ear. I could feel Ryder's breath brush down my neck and back, making me shiver.
 

"I don't wanna go," Scarlett whined. "You can't make me."

"Yes, I can, and you don't want me to do that. Now, lets go," Ryder growled.
 

I nodded and pulled the oblivious Scarlett towards me. She stumbled into me and I almost went down with her. Ryder reached down and held us both steady. He led us both out to the front door where a black SUV was parked and waiting.

"Yo! I know I said call me whenever you needed a ride, but it's been almost every night for the last few weeks, dude," the driver hollered to us.

"Shut the fuck up," Ryder growled as he shoved Scarlett into the back seat. When he reached for me, I stepped back out of instinct. He put his hands down, so I stumbled my own way to the car and pulled myself in next to my new best friend. Ryder closed the door behind me and got into the passenger seat.
 

"Logan," the driver said, reaching his hand back to me.

"Kallie," I responded, placing my hand in his. He reached it up to his lips and placed a kiss on the top of my hand.

"Whore," Scarlett blurted from her fetal position in the seat next to me. We laughed and Logan pulled out of the bar's parking lot.
 

Before I knew it, we were already at the apartment. Logan got out of the car and climbed in the backseat to help Scarlett and I get out. Once we were both perched up against Ryder, our driver got back in his car and pulled away. Ryder helped both of us up the steps to the apartment. Both of us girls were laughing hysterically every time we missed a step, which was a lot. Ryder was patient and the trip up the steps took longer than it took for us to walk to the bar. We both flopped on the couch, laughing at each other and a clearly annoyed Ryder.

"What? We can't have some fun, too?" Scarlett asked sarcastically. "You get plastered on a daily. For being my twin, you sure are an ass."

"Just hush," Ryder waved her off while he went to the kitchen. He came back with two bottles of water and the bottle of pain pills. "You should take these now."

I nodded and took one of the bottles and swallowed the pills. Memories of waking up on the floor in his bathroom came flashing back to my mind. I really hoped I didn't feel like that again tomorrow morning. Scarlett got up from the couch and stumbled toward her room.

"Good night," she slurred and flopped belly first on her bed, the mattress squeaking under her. I snickered and shook my head at her. The movement made my head hurt a little and I held my head in my hands.

"You good?" Ryder asked, touching my knee. I just shook my head. "You gonna be sick?"

"No. I don't think so, anyway. Head hurts," I answered, looking back up into his face. I could see the concern there. His brown eyes were clear and locked on mine, looking for answers.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed?" he asked. I raised my eyebrows. "I mean, I can take the couch. You would be closer to a bathroom."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," I said and leaned my heavy head back against the couch. "I will be just fine."

"Okay, if you say so. Yell if you need anything," he said, patting my knee again before heading to his room.
 

That man was a walking contradiction. At least with the buzz I had, my mind was quiet. I wouldn’t think about how the concerned look on Ryder's face reminded me of the way Carter would look at me. I used to get so stressed out over finals that I would pace the room constantly. Carter would watch me with that same look, then finally grab my shoulders and tell me I was going to do great. I would instantly believe him.
 

I would need to talk myself down from the ledge on my own now. That thought terrified me, but I had no other choice. Having no choice is a familiar feeling for me, I should be used to it. Maybe being down here, alone and away from everyone I know, would allow me to get better. I could get better for myself and not because everyone was looking at me, expecting me, to carry on.
 

Tickling on my upper thigh made me stir. I heard shuffling and felt movement on the couch that made my eyes pop open. Light streamed in the windows behind me and burned my eyes, making me groan loudly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you," Ryder said in a raspy voice, looking down at my thighs. "But your dress was getting dangerously high." I followed his stare and he was right. My already short dress was riding up my legs and another shift would have had me flashing him my panties.

"Sorry," I muttered, pulling the thin fabric down a little lower. Ryder's eyes grew dark as he watched my hands. I stared at his throat as he swallowed hard. Heat bubbled deep in my stomach and my skin tingled where his eyes were roaming. I felt naked and exposed laying on the couch next to him like this.
 

He coughed and got up to go to the kitchen. I let myself catch my breath and waited for my pounding heart to slow down before sitting up. I pulled the blanket over myself, trying to gain some composure. I hated how my body reacted to him. My body must have good memories from our sleepover a few nights ago that my mind didn't.
 

"How are you feeling?" Ryder called from the kitchen while pouring coffee.

"Not great, but okay enough," I answered. My head was aching and my feet were sore. My hands were shaking, but I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or waking up to Ryder and the way he made me feel. He strolled into the room easily and handed me a mug. I gratefully took a huge gulp of the hot liquid. "Thank you. How is Scarlett?"

"She's fine. Already off to work. You going to be okay here by yourself today?" he asked, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.
 

"Yeah. I will be fine," I nodded. What other option did I have?

We drank our coffee in silence and finally Ryder retreated to his room. I heard his shower kick on and I decided to go back to bed. I was never one to sleep in late, but I had been nothing like myself, so why go back now? I woke up hours later, well into the afternoon. I dragged myself into the shower and scrubbed the night away. I dressed and decided I needed stronger coffee to shake this hangover.

I walked down to the main street and looked both ways. Deciding which direction I thought the coffee house was, I started walking. The day was warmer than it normally was in early June. People bustled around the old fashioned town, walking and riding bikes on the sidewalks. The main street was lined with benches with flower pots in full bloom on each side. Cars slowly cruised by, and I enjoyed the slow and quiet pace.
 

I grew up in the suburbs and was not entirely thrilled at the thought of moving to D.C. It was Carter's dream, so I had always agreed when he talked about moving to the big city. The idea of big buildings, congested traffic, and the lack of a big yard bothered me, but I just wanted to be with him.
 

Being a politician's wife never mattered to me as much as it mattered to my parents. They would constantly remind me that every impression I made was important for when I became his wife. I was constantly trying to be perfect and worrying about what everyone thought of me. The thought of being in the limelight, for everyone to judge, was terrifying, but I would do it for Carter. I just wanted to be by his side and nothing else mattered to me.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

Kallie

I pushed the doors open to the familiar cafe and spotted the same kid that served me a few days ago.

"You're still here?" he asked, obviously checking me out.
 

"Yep. Large Mocha Latte. And can you add an extra espresso shot, please?" I asked and slid my bank card across the counter.
 

"Sure thing. Anything else?" he asked. I looked into the case of pastries and considered a muffin. "I just baked some brownies. My own special recipe. It'll be on the house," he said, giving me a big smile.

"Sure, thank you." I gave him the best smile I could. My body still felt weak and I was hoping the coffee would bring me back to life. He swiped the card and went to make the coffee. He came back, handing me the cup and a little brown bag. I told him thank you again and left the coffee shop.
 

I let the fresh air whip across my skin. The sun was warm on my face and I enjoyed the coffee on the short walk back to the apartment. I let myself in and found the place was still empty. I paced the small living room before realizing what I was doing. I forced myself to sit at the breakfast bar and tried to finish the coffee without any nervous tendencies. I pulled out the brownie and munched it down to keep myself busy. I left the other one in the bag for later.
 

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