Winning Me Over (13 page)

TWENTY-ONE

PAIGE

I
miss Colt. And I hate working with Bud. Sure, it's awful working with Jon, but I actually prefer it to this. Bud breathes down my neck all the time. I can't do anything without him micro managing me, or instructing me on how to do it better. Even though the kiss with Colt in the back room was seriously hot, I wish we hadn't done it. Then Jon never would've seen us and I'd be here with Colt instead of Bud. However, I'm sure Colt and I would've been caught kissing at some point. It was inevitable. We can hardly keep our hands off of each other.

A slight smile tugs at my lips. Just thinking about Colt's mouth on mine is enough to make me happy. God, what has this guy done to me? I never thought I'd end up being a love sick mushy girl. For months I teased Hadley for acting like this about Tripp. Now I feel kind of bad about it. At the time I had no idea what it felt like to fall for someone. I'm not even embarrassed that I feel like this about him. I don't care if I'm acting silly or stupid. It's worth it to be with him.

Besides, if it weren't for Colt this would be such a dark time for me. He's really helped me get through my mom's diagnosis. Not that Hadley hasn't been amazing, and it truly has been great that Macy's gone this time around. Even so, Colt offers me something no one else can. He can empathize, and he always seems to know just the right thing to say and do.

While I'm cleaning the tables following the morning rush, I hear the
bell on the door ring. When I look up, Jon is heading inside with a determined look on his face. Something about it causes alarms to ring out in my head. Bud pokes his head out from the back room.

"Good. You're here. Come on back." Bud looks at me. "Can you watch the shop for a few minutes, Paige? Jon and I need to talk in private."

I nod, wondering what the hell is going on. Jon doesn't even look at me as he moves toward his dad. Biting my lip, I wait until they are out of sight. Then I walk slowly, careful not to make any noise, to the counter. I step behind it and tiptoe to the wall. Standing against it, I hold my breath and listen. Unfortunately I can't make out what they're saying, but their voices are urgent, desperate. Frustrated, I'm about to push off the wall when I hear one familiar word.
Colt.
My mouth goes dry.

Why are they talking about Colt? What are they up to?

Does it have anything to do with me? Surely catching us kissing wasn't that big of a deal. Certainly not one to warrant private meetings.

Pressing my lips together I stay still and try to hone in on them. Again it's impossible to hear their conversation. It's obvious they are speaking softly
, which just makes me more suspicious. When I hear something about Officer James and missing money, my heart stops. I'm sure that this isn't about me and Colt kissing now. This is about the robbery.

Oh, no
. Could it be that Jon overheard my conversation with Officer James and now he suspects him?

My head spins. I have to set the record straight. I have to make this right. It's
all my fault. It's silent. Footsteps sound. I step away from the wall and scramble to the counter. Taking a deep breath, I pretend to be wiping it clean. Jon and Bud both file out of the back room.

"Paige, I need to talk to you a minute."

At Bud's words I break out in a cold sweat. With trembling fingers, I set down the rag. Pushing past Jon I head to the back room. Bud's office is located just to the left of where we hang our aprons. I follow him inside. There's no door to his office, just an open doorway. I find no comfort in this right now, though, knowing that Jon is out there within eavesdropping distance. I know that I had been doing the same thing, but still. Bud sits his tall lanky body down on the chair behind the small desk. A few loose papers litter the top and a computer sits in the corner. Bud sits forward, creating a triangle shape with his fingers.

Unsure of what to do, I just sit across from him and play with a loose thread on my jeans. Maybe it's not what I think. Maybe it's not a big deal at all. Exhaling, I force my gaze upward.

"Paige, I understand that you've been keeping something from me. Something about Colt?"

It feels like I've been punched. I fumble with my hands in my lap. "There's nothing to tell. It was all just a misunderstanding."

"I would hardly call a criminal record a misunderstanding." Bud's expression is hard.

"What?" The room sways around me.

"So you didn't know about Colt's criminal history?"

I shake my head, confused. His words float around me, mocking and taunting me.

"I thought you were dating."

"Um...yeah...kind of, I guess. But he never said anything..."
the words trail off, my head fuzzy. "What kind of criminal history?" Maybe it's just a mistake. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

"He was arrested
numerous times for petty theft and robbery. He's been to juvenile hall twice."

I can't breathe. I literally can't breathe. Grabbing my throat, I try to make it work. Everything spins around me.

"Paige. Are you okay?"

Choking, I
suck in a breath and nod. But the truth is, I'm not okay. Not at all. Why didn't Colt tell me?

"Jon said that he came in the night we were robbed," Bud says.

"Yeah, but he didn't have anything to do with it." I want to defend him still, even though at this point I'm not even sure why. He was so angry with me when he thought I didn't trust him, but he didn't trust me. Not enough to tell me the truth.

"We'll let the police figure that out. But he did take money last night."

"What?" I feel like I'm drowning. Bud's voice sounds so far away and muffled.

"A hundred dollars.
It was taken from the register, and he was the one who closed up."

"You're sure?"

Bud nods, a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm sorry about this, Paige. I really am. I liked the kid. But that doesn't change things." He pauses, studying me. "I should have run a background check on him, but I was just so desperate for someone to start. And for some reason I just trusted the kid. He seemed nice. So don't feel bad. He had us all fooled."

I freeze, letting his words sink in. Was that what happened? Did he fool me? Is he not the guy I thought he was? The thought is almost too much to bear. And to think I was starting to fall in love with him.

The bell on the door dings and a familiar voice pierces my heart. I stiffen, bile rising in my throat.

"What's going to happen
to him now?" I say when I find my voice.

"Obviously I'm going to have to fire him. And the police want to question him in regards to the robbery. I'm not going to press charges for the hundred. I can write that off."

Jon steps inside. "Colt's here. I'll send him back." When Jon turns around I swear I see the flicker of a smile pass over his lips.

"You can clock out now, Paige."

Unable to speak, I stand up on wobbly legs. With my head down, I slip out of his office and straight into a male's chest. Colt's familiar scent envelops me, and I have to fight back tears.

"Hey,
McAllistor." He runs his hands down my arms. Bringing his mouth down to my ear, he whispers, "Don't tell me we're still getting our hands slapped for our little indiscretion in the back room."

I can't even look at him. I want to throw up. Shaking my head, I shove him backward and stalk off. Then I do the one thing I shouldn't. I glance back over my shoulder. When our gazes collide, I see confusion and hurt inside his eyes. More than anything, I want to run to him. To throw my arms around him, to touch him, to kiss him, to tell him it's okay. Convince him that I don't care about his
past, that I only care about who he is now. Only I can't do that, because I don't know if it's true. So I turn from Colt and walk out of the shop, leaving him to endure his own fate.

TWENTY-TWO

COLT

I
guess I didn't have to wait too long for the other shoe to drop, huh? This day has pretty much been the shittiest one I've had in awhile. It was seriously humiliating to be fired for stealing. Not to mention the fact that Bud has absolutely no proof that I did it. If I took that hundred dollars, then where the hell is it? Because if I have it, then I sure as hell plan to spend it. Too bad, I don't. But what I do have is a criminal record, an arm covered in tattoos, and a face full of piercings. And that's enough to crucify me. It killed me to have to walk out of that shop knowing what they think of me. Knowing I can't go back.

Spending the next two hours being questioned at the police station was no freaking picnic either. But that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part of this whole shitty day was when Paige walked away from me. I can still feel t
he sting of rejection, sharp and piercing, when she shoved me. And here I thought we were in this together. I thought for sure we were being reamed out for kissing. In my mind we would take our punishment, laugh about it and then go right back to enjoying the act which we were punished for. Only she pushed me. She freaking pushed me and then walked away. I could've literally fallen over from shock. Wasn't it just last night when she admitted that she would fight someone to be with me?

But it was the look in her eyes
that really told me I had been wrong about her from the beginning. There was no loyalty in them, only judgment. It was a look I knew all too well. And it's one I hate. One I don't think I can ever forgive.

So, I've washed my hands of all of them. It's what I get for trusting any of them in the first place. I've had a lifetime of disappointments, of neglect, of lies and manipulation. I know better. Falling for a girl, getting involved with her family, allowing mysel
f to hope for a future with her was stupid. And it won't happen again.

When I finally get to Callie's I bust in and kick off my shoes angrily. They launch from my feet a little harder than I intended and crash into the wall.

"Colt!" Callie rushes in, worry etching her features. "What happened?"

I want to feel bad for worrying her. But I'm numb. I feel nothing at all, certainly not sympathy.
"I got fired."

"Oh, Colt.
I'm so sorry."

Her words are meant to be helpful, but they only succeed in upsetting me. I groan, running a hand over my head. "Don't. Just stop. I don't need pity, okay?"

"Why did you get fired?"

"For stealing," I say simply, not bothering to defend myself. I'm sure she'll think the worst too, and I don't care. Let everyone think I did
it. It doesn't matter. There was only one person that wanted to believe in me and she was the first one to turn her back.

"Colt?
Why would you do that?"

"Because that's who I am, Callie. Don't you know that? I'm a criminal. I'm a loser. I'm just like them!" The darkness is back, blanketing me, weaving around my heart. It should scare me, but it's comforting in its familiarity.

Callie backs away from me, trembling. Bristol cries from the back room. A tiny blur from the corner of my eye catches my attention. I look over to see Zander crying in the corner. Oh, shit. Shame burns through me.

"I just...I just can't do this. I'm sorry." I grab my shoes and leather jacket and race outside.

"Colt!" Callie calls from the doorway as I run down the street, shoes and jacket in hand, my sock clad feet slapping on the pavement. "Please come back."

But I can't. I can't bear to look at the disappointment in their eyes. I can't listen to their cries or accusations. As I get further down the street, it dawns on me that I'm doing exactly what I always said I wouldn't do. I'm turning into my parents.  How's that for irony? I guess it's a good thing I never made any promises.

When my socks are torn and blood coats the bottom of my feet, I finally stop. My fingers are covered in blisters from holding onto my shoes so tightly. The sun is going down, but it's still hotter than hell out here. If I thought I got funny looks before, I was wrong. Today was the worst. I'm sure I look like a deranged lunatic running down the street in his socks, holding his shoes in his hand. As I sit on the curb in front of some nice two-story home putting on my shoes, I start laughing hysterically. A young woman walking her dog looks over at me warily. She probably thinks I'm a drug addict or something.

I want to tell her that it's only a matter of time. If I plan to really follow in my parents' footsteps it'll happen eventually. But right now I just have to come up with a plan to get out of here. I can still work on making my original dream come true.
The one involving a house all by myself and hours of solitude to write. Never again will I hope for a future that involves people.

People only cause hurt
. And I don't plan on being hurt again.

After putting on my shoes, I stand up and shove my arms into my leather jacket. It may be hot, but I want to wear it. Something about it offers me comfort; makes me feel like me.
I don't have a destination in mind, but I'm not at all surprised when I end up on her street. Even when I want nothing to do with her, that girl has a magnetic pull on me. She has since the first time I laid eyes on her.

It reminds me of the stories I read as a child of the sirens who lured men to sea only to kill them. Paige lured me in the same way. Only she wasn't kind enough to just kill me. No, that would've been too humane. Instead, I'm still here
suffering without her. And I have to learn to live with the fact that she didn't stand by me when I needed her the most. I have to live with this anger and pain inside that threatens to poison me from the inside out.

When I reach her house, my heart stops.
Her car is out front, and I spot her multicolored hair in the upstairs window. Jumping back, I hide behind a tree across the street. The last thing I want is for her to spot me. Then she'll just add stalker to my list of criminal activities. I rake my fingers down the trunk of the tree. Hard, jagged pieces tear into my flesh, and warm blood trickles. But I welcome the pain. I always have.  When I was little I used to stab my hand with pencils, and when I got older I'd pick fights or slice my skin with a razor. Anything to feel outward pain. It made me forget about the inner pain, even if just for a moment. Physical pain is something I can control, emotional pain is more tricky.

Peeking around the trunk, I stare at Paige's house. Movement from the kitchen catches my eye. Mrs.
McAllistor is inside, and it looks like she's baking. A car heads down the street, so I duck back behind the tree. Heart thumping in my chest, I emerge from my hiding spot and walk swiftly down the street with my head bowed, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. I have no idea why I ever fooled myself when it came to Paige. She doesn't need me in her life. That was a lie. She has all she needs - a loving family, a best friend, money, stability.

A sick mom.
The thought flashes through my mind before I shove it down. I don't need to feel sorry for Paige right now. I'm the one who lost everything today. Just like I always do. When I round the corner and walk away from Paige's street, a sense of loss and disorientation attacks me. I have absolutely no idea where to go now. For the past month I've had only one destination, one goal, one purpose. Now that it's been taken from me, I'm empty and lost.

But I'll re-route. I'm like one of those stupid GPS machines. I remember riding
in the car with my mom once when she was borrowing someone's navigation system. Every time she turned the wrong way the robotic lady would say, "Recalculating." Even then I thought it resonated with me. That's what I'm always doing - recalculating. My life has never been stable. I've never been able to put down roots or feel secure.

I think about how just last week I actually put my clothes in the dresser in my room at Aunt Callie's. It's the first time in years I haven't lived out of a bag. For some reason I was starting believe I was staying. I should've known better.

No one has ever wanted me. Not my mom. Not my dad. Not my grandparents. Not any of my other aunts and uncles. Why had I been so hard up to believe it would be any different with Paige?