Twisted (7 page)

“When a guy ditches me on the
first date, I cut him loose,” I lie boldly. This could totally backfire on me
and if it did, I'd be disappointed. But I need to do this or Cole would
continue treating me like a door mat.    

Something shifts behind his
green eyes. “Let’s start the night over and see what happens.”

I hide my sigh of relief. “I
want to dance.”

“I'll meet you in the other
room. I need a beer.”

After studying his expression
for a second, I duck under his arm and walk away. I can feel his eyes burning
into my back until I turn the corner. Once I am back in the main room, I make
my way through the crowd and carve out a little spot to dance. Cole shows up a
minute later, an open beer bottle in hand. He pulls me close, his free arm
wrapping around my waist. I hadn't wanted to rub bodies with anyone earlier,
but I certainly do now.

As we dance, Cole finishes
his beer and tosses the bottle aside carelessly as his hands reach for me and
wander over my body. I'm drunk and don't care. My drink is long gone and I
enjoy touching Cole back. I find myself getting acquainted with those broad
shoulders and the feel of his rock hard abs. He's so damn hot. There are a
couple times where our faces are so close that Cole should have kissed me but
he doesn't. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know he's still playing games.
I'm having too much fun to be concerned though. To be honest, I kind of liked
the way he kept me off balance. It was fun not knowing what would happen next.

A few times during the
evening someone would come up, trying to get Cole's attention. They were mostly
male and obviously clients. Cole would simply say, “Not tonight,” and ignore
them, his attention focused solely on me.

When the party finally winds
down, I realize I am disappointed when Cole leads me through the front door. As
we make our way down the porch stairs, I trip over a beer bottle. Cole quickly
steadies me and then he chuckles as he swings me up in his arms. “Doesn't take
much to get you drunk, does it?”

I wrap my arms around his
shoulders and nuzzle his neck, enjoying his sharp, bold scent. “I don't usually
drink,” I say truthfully before I grin widely and add, “I had no idea what I
was missing.”

Cole walks towards his
motorcycle and carefully sets me on my feet before frowning with concern. “You
going to fall off on the ride home?”

“I'm fine, I swear. The
room's not spinning anymore and look, I'm standing on my own two feet,” I say,
pointing to my feet and wiggling my bare toes in my flip-flops.

“Then I guess we're good to
go,” Cole muses as he sits down and I readily climb on behind him, my arms
wrapping around his waist. The ride goes by fast and when we pull up to my
brother's house, Cole pulls up at the curb instead of parking in the driveway.
I note that the lights are off and assume Tate is still working and Noah might
be in bed already.

Cole cuts the engine and
shoves the kickstand down before I climb off. Then I watch as he swings his leg
over the bike so he's sitting on it sideways, his legs splayed slightly. “Come
here,” he says, his eyes focused on me intently.

He doesn't have to tell me
twice because I've been waiting all night for this. I move closer and the
second I am near him, he pulls me between his legs. I find myself pressed
against his chest, his lips on mine. His arms wrap tightly around me as his
tongue sweeps into my mouth like he owns it.

This is my first kiss and
it's ridiculously good. I had no idea Cole has a tongue piercing until I feel
the little metal ball sliding against my own tongue. Kissing is also a lot more
enjoyable than I ever thought it would be. I feel Cole's hand slide up to the
back of my head as he devours my mouth. The kiss is deepening and hotter than
hell. I can't seem to get enough of him and my hands slide up his shoulders to
clasp behind his neck.

“
Blayre
Gallagher, get your ass inside now!”

My lips tear away from Cole's
as I jerk back to find my brother standing there in nothing but a pair of
jeans, his chest and feet bare. His expression is livid and I feel Cole's arms
drop away from me.

Tate glares at Cole with
disapproval. “Go home.”

I glance at Cole, still not
believing this is happening and see that Cole doesn't look the slightest bit
intimidated by the pissed off bald man before him. His eyes shift to mine.
“Later,” he says simply before he swings his leg over the bike, shoves the
kickstand up and then roars off down the street.

I spin on Tate with
astonishment. “That was rude!”

“Inside
now
,” he says
flatly, ushering me across the lawn and to the front door. I notice that the
living room light is now on and Tate slams the door loudly once we are inside,
making me wince. He steps closer and inhales deeply, his eyes widening with
shock. “Are you
drunk?
”

“No,” I say sourly. “Are you
going to give me a Breathalyzer test? Or maybe make me walk a line?”

“Don't tempt me. Do you have
any idea what time it is?” he demands, crossing his arms over his bare chest as
he stares me down.

“No. Why, is it late?”

“It's two-thirty in the damn
morning. I thought you were home until that motorcycle woke me up!” he
practically shouts.

It's two in the morning?
Crap!
Tate had never brought up any
house rules but I was betting he would be tomorrow. “I lost track of time,” I
say lamely.

Tate rubs his hand over his
bald head, looking disgruntled. “Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning,” he says
abruptly.

As if I'm going to argue with
that. I quickly high tail up to my room without a backward glance.

It's not long after I go to
bed, that I find myself waking up soaked in perspiration with my heart pounding
erratically. I can't remember the nightmare but I have a good idea what it was
about. The same nightmare has been haunting me for years and it always leaves a
bitter taste in my mouth.

My stomach churns.

I sit up and with shaking
hands, grab a small razor out of the nightstand drawer before heading to the
bathroom across the hall. I quickly lock the door and then shimmy out of my
panties and boxer shorts I'd slipped into for sleeping. Then I step into the
tub and sit on the ledge.

My breathing is still a bit
uneven and I know I won't calm down until I make myself feel better in my own
twisted way. I peer down at the line of scars marking my pelvic region. There
are more around my inner thighs and a few on my feet and ankles. I'd been doing
this for years and as long as I never wore a bikini, no one would ever know my
secret. I had ready lies on the tip of my tongue if anyone ever asked about the
thin, barely noticeable scars on my feet or ankles. But really, who pays
attention to one's feet? It's nothing I've ever had to really worry about.

Anticipation floods me as I
pick a new spot and brush the pad of my finger ever so gently across the blade.
For a brief second, I enjoy the bite of the blade before I turn and very
carefully draw the edge across my delicate skin. I can't help but savor the
rush while watching intently as the blood appears and begins to drip into the
tub. After inhaling deeply, I begin to calm down as I bring the razor back to
my skin one more time, making another shallow cut next to the one I'd just
made. My eyes flicker shut and a smile of satisfaction curves my lips, even as
the cuts finally begin to sting with pain.

I find myself experiencing my
first hangover the next morning when I wake up. My head throbs painfully as
memories of last night run through my head. The party last night was a bit of a
blur but I do remember having a good time. I also remember Tate catching me
kissing Cole in front of the house. A groan escapes me as I sling an arm over
my eyes. I wonder what Cole thinks after
that
fiasco.

Cole.

I shove back my sheets,
wincing as my head protests. I scan my room, searching for my cell phone. I
spot it on my dresser and I quickly get up and grab it. My heart sinks with
disappointment when I see that there are no new text messages or missed calls.
That's when I remind myself that it is only nine in the morning and Cole only
just dropped me off six and a half hours earlier.

My thoughts immediately shift
to my brother and I chew my bottom lip and debate over just getting the
confrontation done with. If I did it now then it would put a stop to the dread,
and the fact that I was currently worrying about worst case scenarios—as
usual.  

I quickly take a shower and
then head downstairs, wincing slightly as I take the stairs. The fabric of my
panties is rubbing against my fresh cuts, even though I have a Band-Aid over
them. I have a high tolerance for pain but dealing with it all day was going to
be annoying. Whenever I cut, the first initial rush of bleeding and pain was
enjoyable but after that...the cuts became a minor irritation. It didn't help
that I'd cleaned the cuts in the shower and now they were raw and chaffing
against the Band-Aids.

When I enter the kitchen, I
find my brother and Noah are already there as usual. I learned early on that
the men in this house like to congregate where the food is located. Tate is in
the middle of talking to Noah when he spots me and his expression immediately
tightens. “Outside, now.”

I sigh, noting Noah's
eyebrows rise at the change of Tate's expression. His eyes follow us and I give
him a cheeky wave before having no choice but to follow my brother outside. The
morning is absolutely beautiful, and the patio looks downright cheerful
compared to my brother's expression as we sit down at the table.

“I don't like him,” Tate says
flatly.

“Who, Noah?” I ask lightly,
trying to lighten the mood.

“Don't blow this off,
Blayre
.  I'm very disappointed in you.”

“I wasn't watching the time
last night. I'm sorry.”

“Were you drinking?”

“A little.” He levels me with
a look. “Okay, so I had a lot. Well, not really since I only had two drinks.”

Tate snorts. “I bet those two
drinks were fifty percent hard liquor.”

“I wasn't trying to get
drunk,” I say defensively. “I just wanted to have a little fun.”

My brother sighs and seems to
choose his words carefully. “I know. I should have expected this,” he says
quietly. “I partied pretty hard after I graduated and moved out. After all the
strict rules, it was nice to let loose and have fun for once. I went a bit
overboard that first year.”

“It is nice,” I agree. “Julie
and Steve never let me do anything fun.”

“I want you to enjoy life,
Blayre
, but do it in moderation and be smart,” he says
seriously. “I get that you want to drink like everyone else, but if one of
those parties gets busted, you could get arrested for underage drinking. You do
not want something like that on your record.”

“I'll be careful.”

Tate's eyes narrow. “I'd
prefer you not to drink at all.”

I fall silent, because I
won't make promises I can't keep.

“Who was the asshole on the
motorcycle?” Tate suddenly asks, his tone darkening.

“He's not an asshole,” I
reply with a scowl of my own. Figures. The first guy I ever go out with and my
brother already hates him.

“He brought you home at
two-thirty in the morning. Apparently, he doesn't care if he gets you in
trouble.”

“I
am
eighteen.”

“And you're still in high
school,” Tate points out.

There's not much to say to
that, so I find myself studying one of the large pots of flowers on the patio.
I want to argue with him but instead I am going to keep my mouth shut. I just
arrived here and the last thing I need to do is piss off my brother.

“I can't believe these words
are coming out of my mouth but here goes. If you live under my roof, you follow
my rules.”

“I hear you,” I mumble, my
eyes lifting to Tate's.

He nods at me. “Good. Curfew
is eleven during the week and on weekends it's midnight.”

“Fine.” 

Tate hesitates briefly. “I
know you don't want to hear this, but you just met this guy. Take things slow,
okay.”

I can't help but stare at
him. Was he referring to sex?

My brother clears his throat
awkwardly.

Yep. “Okay.”

Tate looks relieved to have
that part over with and we both look up when we see the patio door slide open.
A man I've never seen walks out. “Noah said you were out here. I can go wait
inside though if you want,” he offers.

Tate looks happy to see him
and grins. “Nah, we're good.
Blayre
, this is Vince.
Vince, my sister.”

“Hi,” I say to the good
looking, dark haired man with friendly blue eyes.

He smiles down at me from
where he stands next to our table. “Hey, there.” He looks at Tate
questioningly. “We heading out?”

Tate turns his attention on
me. “I'm going out of town with some friends to go see a band. I'll be back
late. Stay out of trouble,” he orders as he rises to his feet.

Once Tate leaves, I make
myself some breakfast and check my phone one more time. I know I'm being
pathetic, but I can't help it. There are still no messages from Cole and with a
roll of my eyes, I shut the phone off.

There.

I am not going to be one of
those girls that waits by the phone until a guy calls.

A while later, I sit down by
the pool and drop my legs into the water, letting them sway gently back and
forth out of boredom. I'd tried reading a book that I'd checked out from the
school library but after re-reading the same page twice, I'd tossed it. Now I'm
gazing at the water lost in thought when I hear the sliding glass door open and
I look up.

Noah steps outside, looking
casual in a pair of khaki shorts and a red tee. He catches sight of me and
walks over, pausing as he looks down at me questioningly. He's holding up an
ashtray, lighter, and cigarettes in one hand. “Do you mind?”

“Go for it.” Honestly, I've
always had an aversion to smokers but I wasn't going to tell Noah that. I’m not
sure if he knew about my past or not, and I sure as hell wasn't bringing up the
fire and the pack of cigarettes that changed my life forever.

He sits down next to me, his
legs sinking into the water as he slips a cigarette between his lips and lights
it. He takes a deep drag, turns his head and blows out smoke before turning
back to meet my eyes.

“I'm a little curious about
something.”

Noah sets the cigarette on
the ashtray before looking at me with interest. “Shoot.”

“If you are into eating
healthy, why do you smoke?”

Noah shrugs. “I do it more
out of habit now but not as often.”

“Do you mind if I ask
why?” 

He's silent for a long
moment.

“You can tell me to mind my
own business, I don't offend easily,” I offer.

“Nah,” he says before he
grins, flashing white teeth. “I don't mind talking about it. Most people just
automatically assume it's off limits.”

My eyebrows arch. “Smoking?”

“No,” he says with a laugh.
“The accident. I started smoking right after, it was a good stress releaser,”
he says lightly.

“What happened, if you don't
mind me asking?”

His expression turns serious.
“It was right after high school graduation. I was headed to a party when a car
in the opposite lane suddenly veered towards me and we hit head on.”

“Drunk driver?”

“An old man had a seizure and
couldn't control the car.”

I study the man sitting
beside me and his demeanor stays casual and relaxed. If I thought the topic
bothered him, I'd drop it. “What happened to him?”

Noah looks at me oddly. “You
know, you're the first person to ask that. Most people only care about what
happened to me.”

“Does it bother you that I
asked?”

“Not at all. The old man
didn't make it.”

Slowly, I nod and study my
feet, which are immersed in the cool chlorine filled water. Then I turn back so
he can focus on my lips. “What about you? How severe were your injuries?”

“Not too bad. A broken leg
and the head injury were the worst of it. I was in a coma for about three
weeks. When I woke up, my hearing was gone. The doctor's initially thought that
my hearing loss was temporary but weeks later they confirmed it was permanent.
It was a rough time,” he says with a shrug.

“I bet. Are you originally
from around here?” I ask, deciding to switch the topic.

Noah reaches for his
cigarette and takes another quick drag before turning back to me. “No. I'm from
a little town in Vermont.”

“And you ended up all the way
on the opposite side of the United States? How did you come to that decision?”
I ask with interest.

“I always wanted to move to a
warmer state, winters aren't really my thing. I started doing some research and
I found that the university here in Sacramento offered everything I was looking
for, so I applied.”

“What about your family?”

“I don't have much family.
All my old friends started acting awkward around me after the accident, so I
finally decided to pack up and start over,” he says simply.

“That's too bad for them.
Their loss,” I say as I feel a slow burn of anger develop within. How could
someone let a disability affect their friendship with Noah? The guy is deaf but
here I am having a completely normal conversation with him. He'd obviously been
friends with the wrong kind of people.

“I agree,” is all he says on
the topic.

We both fall quiet for a long
moment.

“Tate's told me a little bit
about your aunt and uncle. Sounds like they were tough to live with,” Noah
comments.

It's hard not to stiffen up
at the sudden appearance of a topic I consider off limits. However, I'd just
nosed around in Noah's life, I couldn't blame him for turning the tables. I
shrug, trying to look unaffected. “They were stricter than the average parent.”

“Tate's always felt bad for
leaving you there. At the beginning when he'd get drunk, he'd go on and on
about what a piss poor brother he felt he was.”

“Really?” I ask with
surprise.

Noah nods. “I'm not going to
lie. Your brother was a bit of a mess but it didn't take him long to get his
priorities straight. He wanted you here,
Blayre
, but
even he knew he had nothing to give you at that point. He was just learning how
to take care of himself and how to manage his own life. He couldn't have
handled a thirteen-year-old.”

“It's not a big deal. I'm
here now, right?”

Noah gives me a crooked
smile. “That you are. And if I went by the expression on his face earlier, he's
met his match, hasn't he?”

“Someone's got to keep him on
his toes,” I joke.

“Looks like you're doing a
good job.”

I can't help but laugh.

Out of sheer boredom, I end
up at the mall that afternoon in hopes that Paige is working. Turns out she is
and since it is Saturday, the mall is packed. It takes five minutes of waiting
in line before I can buy a cinnamon roll and a full half hour before Paige has
enough free time to carry on a conversation with me. As she leans a hip against
her side of the counter, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear that
has escaped her ponytail. “How'd you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get Cole to put you before
his business last night.”

I shrug as I tear off a piece
of my cinnamon roll. “I danced with another guy and pretty much let Cole know
that I wasn't going to wait around for him,” I admit, before popping the gooey
confection in my mouth.

Paige looks at me
approvingly. “Good for you.”

“I don't know,” I sigh. “I
haven't heard from him at all today, so it might have backfired.”

“Doubt it. He doesn't ignore
business for just anyone. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen him turn away
business before. Last night was a first.”