Текст книги "Dirty English"

Автор книги: Ilsa Madden-Mills

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

AN AVALANCHE OF emotions slammed into me as I watched her weave through the quad. Running from us. She’d rejected me, just as if she’d reached in my chest and squeezed the fuck out of my heart.

So much for putting it out there on the table and taking a chance.

She was falling in love with me too, but the kicker was she didn’t want to.

I knew it. She knew it.

I watched her until she got to the street, her lonely figure hunched over as she checked the crosswalk and then crossed hurriedly, headed for the carpark. She moved like the devil was behind her, and dammit, I didn’t want to be the person who put that freaked-out look on her face.

I’d just wanted to see where we could go from here.

I wanted her in my bed at night and every morning.

I wanted her in my skin.

I wanted her in my soul.

And I wanted in hers.

Yet …

She was afraid because of Colby Scott. Fucking rapist. My anger skyrocketed, my blood racing through my veins when I thought about him.

I was going to kill him. Slowly and with my bare hands.

Fuck. I rubbed my hair, my hands tugging on the ends. But it wasn’t just Colby keeping us apart, was it? There was the fighting, and no way in hell was I giving up my dream. I lived and breathed by my fists. My gym meant everything to me, and maybe I’d even shoot for a UFC stint when I got settled.

With a heaviness in my chest, I stalked back toward the cafeteria and people shuffled to go around me on the sidewalk. Considering the mix of what I was feeling, there was no telling what was on my face.

Dax had come outside and walked toward me. He pulled up next to me, a wary look on his face. “Where’d she go? Did you cock it up?”

I exhaled, trying to let go of the lingering frustration. “She went home, and no, I didn’t cock it up for your information. I told her I wanted more, and she told me to stay away. Oh, she also said I was nothing but a fuck to her. Nice little conversation.”

He opened his mouth, but I held my hand up. “Not now. I don’t want any bloody questions. She told me how she felt, and I am officially finished.”

His mouth tightened. “I just want to help. I like her and I think she’s good for you.”

“Yeah? She doesn’t want me, brother.”

But she’s afraid, a voice reminded me. So? I had my bloody pride too.

He let out a sigh. “It’s just—there’s something about the two of you…the way you look at her…bollocks, I don’t know. You should go after her. Don’t give up so soon.”

Leftover anger flared again. “Great. Romance advice from the guy who’s never had a serious relationship. Thanks but no thanks.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Don’t be a nosy parker,” I snapped. “You don’t know what the bloody hell you’re on about.”

“You’re my twin. I can read you like a book. You’re halfway in love with her already.”

I barked out a laugh. “Maybe if you did read a real book, you’d pass your classes.”

“Knobhead. You don’t know when to shut your gob do you?”

“Back to the name calling? Very mature,” I said with gritted teeth. “You best take a step back, brother, and think about what you’re doing.”

We faced off with each other, our eyes glaring as the moments ticked by.

Suddenly he relaxed his stance, his shoulders dipping as he took a step back and surveyed me critically. He waved his hands at me. “This. This is how I know you’re in trouble when it comes to Elizabeth. Your fists are clenched, you’ve got this crazy look in your eye, and your hair looks like squirrels are living in it you’re pulling on it so much. You’re in deep shit, and you don’t know how to handle it.”

I rubbed my temple, my anger cooling rapidly. I shouldn’t be angry at him. This wasn’t about Dax. This was about her.

His eyes went to something behind me. “Bollocks. Here comes more trouble.”

I turned to see Nadia approaching at a fast pace, her hips swinging as she crossed the quad and came to a halt in front of us. Her voice was slightly breathless. “Hey, I saw Elizabeth running away from you from inside the cafeteria. Is everything okay?”

“Stalker,” Dax muttered.

Her green eyes hardened as she swiveled toward him. They’d never really got along; mostly because she’d been jealous of the closeness he and I shared.

I gave her my noncommittal shrug and made to walk off from both of them when she grabbed my hand. “Wait. I—I need to tell you something about Elizabeth. Remember us talking about our mutual friend Colby? I talked to him yesterday, and he told me the truth. She’s got an absolutely terrible reputation in Petal—”

I jerked back from her as if she scalded me. “Shut up, Nadia, you don’t know jack,” I snarled. “Don’t ever say his name again. He’s a—” I caught myself when her eyes flared wide. I couldn’t betray Elizabeth.

“He’s a what?”

“Nothing. Just stay away from him—and me.”

She gasped but quickly recovered. “Why? You can’t just say that and not follow up.” She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. “Is he not who I think he is?”

Dax smirked and raked his eyes over her. “Is anyone? Sometimes you have a girlfriend who says she loves you but then she screws a Ninja Turtle.”

She reddened, her eyes glaring. “Stay out of this, Dax. I’m talking to Declan. Not you.”

He nudged his head at me. “Look at him, Nadia. He isn’t thinking about you or your shit. He was over you the day you cheated. He wants Elizabeth. Scoot on along now little slag.”

Her lips tightened. “I know what that word means.”

“Indeed,” he smirked. “That was my intention.”

She flicked a strand of hair and huffed, but he wasn’t done yet, and I wondered if it was because he’d never seen me this worked up over a girl.

“By the way, I hadn’t had a chance to say anything to Declan yet, but I ran into one of your sorority sisters at the Tau house last week. I flirted a bit—as I usually do—and suddenly we were involved in a deep conversation about you. She just so happened to mention that your mum is not at home these days, but is in fact currently on a two-month-long cruise around the world. Interesting. It must be hard to get chemo out on the ocean.”

She paled, her eyes flaring wide. “Wha—What? Who told you that? She—she’s home.”

He smiled. “Then why are you stuttering? The thing is, I’m guessing you made that story up so Declan would talk to you again so you could manipulate him into feeling sorry for you and eventually taking you back. It needs to stop, Nadia.”

Several seconds went by until finally her shoulders dipped in defeat. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She turned to me, a pleading look on her face, and I read the truth there. I expected her lies to bother me more than they did, but the truth was I hadn’t loved her enough, and the only feeling left was pity.

All my emotions were too wrapped up with Elizabeth. She was all I could think about.

I exhaled heavily and walked away.

I didn’t have shit to say to either one of them.

I just wanted to be alone.

And later? I wanted to fight.

I HATED THE color pink, any shade of it.

The soft pink like you’d see on a baby blanket, the hot-pink shade of lipstick that Mama sometimes wore, and even shades of maroon pricked at me. For two years now, the mere idea of wearing that color made my stomach churn. My prom dress had been a glittery, delicious pink, the shade of strawberry ice cream, with sparkles.

But as Shelley and I walked down Freemont Street on our way back from my meeting with Sylvia Myers for my jewelry interview, I came to a complete halt in front of a consignment shop window. I’d been in the store before to hunt through their old books or to look for good quality used clothing. The artist in me loved the unique and eye-catching window displays the owner put together.

Today, the display blew my mind. Everything was pink.

Shelley stopped next to me, her fashion designer eyes raking over the ensemble inside. “You like the dress? Kinda dated for you, don’t you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my eyes running over the window. At the ceiling were pink papier-mâché clouds with a crystal chandelier hanging in the middle. Below that was the only mannequin, a tall blond wearing an empire-waist dress with heavy lace dripping from the sleeves and the tea-length hem. It was romantic and pink, and nothing I would ever wear—yet something about it called to me.

Next to the mannequin rested a pink and white distressed desk with an old typewriter and a collection of books on top of it, their spines facing outward, giving me a clear view of the titles. Pride and Prejudice was right on top. Darcy came to mind … then Declan.

I sighed, my eyes taking in the dress, part hippie chick, part vintage—and probably out of your budget, I reminded myself.

“It looks like someone vomited up cotton candy everywhere,” she said. “Besides, I thought you boycotted pink?”

True. “I wonder how much it is?”

“This place is reasonable. Plus you’ve got some money now.” She grinned widely and leaned in to give me another excited squeeze. She’d been bouncing along beside me since we’d left the interview, and her enthusiasm was contagious. I smiled back. I had to admit, I was giddy myself considering Sylvia had just offered me a thousand dollars for three of my jewelry drawings which she’d then hand over to her artisans in Ashville to recreate.

Letting go of those designs had felt like a small step on my way to finding the artist inside me again, as if I’d climbed a hill and reached the top. It wasn’t quite the mountain, but I knew if I kept putting one step in front of the other, eventually I’d get to the summit.

And then I thought of Declan. Again. What if he was everything I’d been unconsciously searching for these past two years? What if he was the one I was meant to love—right in my hands—and I was letting him slip away? Emotion swelled in my chest. Telling him to leave me alone had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, and I hadn’t been able to sleep or think about anything but him for the past two days. His face. His eyes. His cocky grin. God, his kindness.

Before I knew it, we’d stepped inside the shop and were met by a sales lady.

“Can I help you, dears?” the older lady asked.

“I’d like to look at the dress in the window,” I said.

She showed us how to get up to the display through some rickety steps to the left of the window. “Go on up there and have a look, everyone does. It’s a small space, but you can move around. Just be careful.”

We nodded and went that way.

“Best we can estimate, the dress was manufactured here in the US. It’s a hundred percent silk with a lace overlay,” she called out from behind us as we stepped into the brightness of the window.

We checked the price tag. One fifty. Pricey.

I fingered the soft lace at the sleeve.

Why did I even want it? Where would I wear it?

“Try it on,” Shelley said in a hushed voice, which was odd, yet it was as if we both sensed the precipice I was standing on.

Without thinking too hard, I found myself whisked into the dressing room by the saleslady while Shelley followed to help me into the dress.

The material slid over my neck and arms, and when I turned to look in the mirror, the girl I saw there wasn’t the same one from Monday, the one who’d told the most beautiful guy he was only a one-night stand. This girl—she was almost radiant. Happy.

“What do you think?” I asked, and I heard the uncertainty in my voice.

Shelley’s face lit up in a big grin. “You’re gorgeous in it, of course, but you’d need to give it to me so I can do my thing. Maybe chop off the length—but keep the lace—and bring in the waist so it isn’t as loose.” She sighed heavily.

“What?”

“Pink always was your color …” I figured she was remembering the day we went shopping for our prom dresses and no matter what store I went in, I always gravitated toward the pink ones.

“Buy it, Elizabeth. And then fucking wear it—heck, even if it’s just to class. Prove to yourself that Colby doesn’t matter anymore, that he may have taken something precious from you, but he didn’t ruin you forever.” A mist covered her eyes.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Shelley. I adore you. Thank you for being my friend through all of this.”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes, a rueful grin on her face. “God, I’m so stupid. Sorry. It’s just—seeing you walk into that interview today with your head held high and now you’re trying on this dress? I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to see this moment.”

Emotion welled, and I hugged her hard.

I realized it was time to stop being a coward.

KNOWING AND DOING are not the same thing. I spent lonely nights in my bed, wishing I’d have a nightmare so Declan would come wake me up. Hold me. I was pathetic, and if I was a drinking girl, I would have used alcohol to make it better.

Declan was doing exactly what I’d asked him to do: leaving me alone.

The night after I’d bought the dress, I invited Blake over, mostly because I was jittery about Colby. We went out to the balcony to sit for a while, and Declan had been out on his, his elbows propped up on the railing, his bare chest glistening in the moonlight. I’d said hi. He’d nodded his response and stalked back inside. Later, after Blake had left, I’d heard a girl’s voice coming from his side of the wall, and when I’d gone out to take the trash to the dumpster, I saw Lorna from Lit class leaving his place. She’d flounced past me on the stairs with a knowing smirk on her lipstick-smeared face. Sharp pain knifed into me at the thought of him kissing her the way he’d kissed me.

Had he already moved on to the next girl? Was that how little I meant to him?

You did this, I reminded myself.

By Friday, I walked into Lit class determined to confront him and make him talk to me. He was already sitting next to Lorna, both their heads bent in a low conversation. Today, I told myself, talk to him. Tell him how you feel. And, God, I wanted to tell him—but my insecurities and fear needed him to show me he still wanted me first.

Dax sat next to me and poked me on the arm. “Hiya, girl. You okay? You look odd—well, you’re always odd—but you look stranger than usual today.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s just I hate seeing Declan with her,” I whispered as I nudged my head to the couple behind me.

He flicked his eyes to the couple and then back to me. “Yeah? If it bothers you, then do something about it. It has to be you now.” His eyes studied mine. “You feel me?”

I nodded and then Dr. Feldman came in the auditorium. I pushed Declan out of my mind and focused on Darcy instead. At least a fictional character couldn’t hurt me.

ON SATURDAY MORNING, I tried to psych myself up to approach Declan, but he wasn’t home. I knew because I constantly watched for his Jeep in the parking lot. By lunchtime I was restless, so I drove by his gym. His car was there, but then I couldn’t bring myself to stop and go in.

While I was driving home, an idea struck.

With determined steps, I went into the extra bedroom. I unpacked my jewelry tools from their boxes and spread them out on the desk, running my fingers across the cold sheet metal.

A shift occurred inside me, small yet significant, something that had been building for the past few weeks. I let go of the constant control I kept over myself, and suddenly my fingers itched. To create.

I looked deep inside myself and asked tough questions.

Where was my power?

Where was my belief in myself?

It was here all along, a small voice said.

Using 18-gauge sheet metal, I measured one of the bigger ring sizes on the metal that I thought would fit him. Without thinking too much about the significance of it, I etched one of the dragonfly designs I’d drawn earlier to what would be the inside of his ring. After that, I used my saw to cut out the band, filed it, and then used my butane torch to make the metal more pliable. I pickled the piece with vinegar and hot water, getting rid of some of the oxidation on the surface. Next, I used my pliers to shape it into a circle and then soldered it with my torch to connect the edges. After pickling it again and filing and sanding down the seam, I slipped it on a metal rod and began the hammering process, the tinkling sound echoing through my apartment. The last step was to toss the ring in my jewelry tumbler and let it roll around, getting polished. I took it out and set the ring down on my nightstand to dry.

I stared at it with deep satisfaction. He’d have a small piece of me even if he didn’t want my heart anymore.

My phone pinged, reminding me that I had dinner plans with Blake and Shelley. Shelley had said a band was playing, so I spent extra time getting ready, putting on my newly altered pink dress and a pair of silver strappy heels. It was a bit overboard for the restaurant, but I didn’t care.

That dress was my armor, proof I was changing a little bit every day.

At the last minute, I ran back to the bedroom and straight to the jewelry box, I found a chain, slipped Declan’s ring on it, and clasped it around my neck.

Perhaps I would never give it to him, but I wanted it against my skin.

When I walked out, I saw his Jeep in the lot. Before I could second-guess myself, I knocked on his door. Emotion was clawing at my chest, and I was teetering on the edge of—what?

What was I going to say?

Was I going to beg him to give me another chance?

Maybe.

But he never answered.

“WHOA, LOVE,” SAID a male voice. “You better slow down there or you’ll fall.” Strong, tattooed arms reached out to steady my momentum as I stumbled walking inside Cadillac’s.

I’d know that husky voice anywhere.

Declan.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him here. It was Saturday night, and if there weren’t any frat parties, this was the place to be. He wore jeans and a nicer shirt than usual, and I found myself remembering how he’d looked in his gi pants with his chest bared and scars showing.

Heat curled in my core. This was the first time he’d touched me since the day on the quad.

He raked his eyes over me in a leisurely fashion, a slow perusal that started at my heels and worked its way up to my dress. “You look nice,” he murmured.

I nodded. “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking at his face, devouring his chiseled jaw and full lips. I squirmed, remembering that mouth on my body.

I peeked over his shoulder into the dining establishment. Was he alone?

Ah. Dax and several of the fraternity little sisters sat at a large round table toward the back, near where the band was setting up. Lorna was there, of course.

I let out a long breath.

“I’m here with friends. What about you? You with Blake?” His voice had snarled that last bit, and I stiffened. Blake had actually cooled it with the pressure and I wasn’t sure why, but part of me wondered if he was afraid of Declan.

“You’re not saying anything.” He leaned on the wall to get out of a patron’s way, putting us closer together. His finger reached out and traced a line across my cheek. “I know this look. You’re worried.” He paused, his brow wrinkling. “Colby?”

And I heard it then, the slight slur in his voice, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

My heart stuttered. I reared back. “You’ve been drinking?”

“I’m twenty-one. Would you like one?” He held up a bottle of dark beer, and I felt stupid I hadn’t even noticed. I’d been too busy taking in the rest of him.

“I don’t like it,” I snapped.

“Good thing I’m not with you then.” He tipped it up to take a sip.

We stared at each other as the seconds ticked by, that familiar zing between us tugging at my heart. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t want him so much. Even knowing he’d been drinking—I didn’t care!

“I came to your apartment tonight, but you weren’t home. There was something I wanted to give you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You ready for round two already? I didn’t think you did that, you being strictly a one-time shagging kind of girl.”

My chest rose. “Don’t be a jerk. Don’t you think I’m hurting? I’m going crazy thinking about you—”

Blake and Shelley stepped inside the door, laughing as they came over to us. Blake gave me a gentle hug and sent Declan a glare.

Declan sent me a conflicted look as if he had more to say, but then he straightened up from the wall, his muscles rippling and flexing. “Good to see you. I need to get back to my friends.”

Such cool politeness.

And then he stalked away to join the boisterous group at the back. As I watched, Lorna immediately got on one side of him and another girl on the other, both of them vying for his attention.

See, people are never who you really think they are. He’s just like all the rest, the rules girl said in my head.

“You okay?” Shelley asked, her voice tentative.

I shook my head. My chest felt like it was caving in. We weren’t even friends anymore. “I can’t stay here and watch him.”

Blake nodded. “I agree. Let’s go back to your apartment and order in pizza. My treat.”

I nodded and glanced down at my pink dress. I wanted to get it off as soon as possible. “Just get me out of here.”