Текст книги "Bastard"
Автор книги: J. L. Perry
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 30 страниц)
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carter
Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that? I don’t know what just came over me. Sure, from the moment I saw her, I wanted those lips on mine, I’ll admit that. But, never did I think I would act on those feeling. Never did I think it would actually happen. And never did I think it would make me feel what I just did. Fuck.
I’m well and truly screwed.
After she walks into the house I continue to stand there. I can’t seem to get my legs to work. My middle leg is working just fine. That fucker is standing proud. It’s so fucking hard it actually hurts. Why did I go there? Why?
When the blood eventually leaves my cock and flows back into my legs, I drag my arse towards the house. I don’t bother going through the front door. I head straight for my bedroom window. I can’t face my mum or Fuckwit right now. My head is all over the place. What am I going to do? As much as I’d like to, I can’t go there with her. I just can’t.
••••
After a sleepless night, I rise early and head for my car. I have no idea where I’m going, but I can’t hang around here today. I can’t risk running into Indiana. That kiss is still haunting me. What I need to do is stay the hell away from her. She makes me feel things. Things I don’t want to feel.
It’s taken me twelve long years to build this barrier around my heart. My protective shield. The one that blocks out all feelings. If you can’t feel, you can’t hurt. Right? That’s my logic anyway.
It has only taken her days to put a crack in the foundation I worked hard at erecting. Fuck her and her sunshine and rainbows. Fuck her and her light that’s trying to penetrate my darkness. I don’t need it, and I sure as hell don’t want it.
I end up at a park, miles from where I now live. I’m not even sure of the suburb. Who fucking cares? It gives me what I need: distance, time to think, time to process. Time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about Indiana-fucking-Montgomery. Why is she worming her way into my heart?
Stubbing out my cigarette, I light up another. That’s not helping either. Reaching across to the passenger seat, I slide my hand underneath and pull out my sketchpad. It’s been months since I’ve drawn anything. Maybe that may calm me the hell down. It’s worked in the past.
Flicking through the pages, I study some of my other drawings. They’re pretty dark; skulls, demons and snakes, shit like that. It suits my personality I guess. Retrieving a pencil out of the glove compartment, I start to draw. When I’m done, I stare down at my work.
Usually I get into the zone and let my hand draw what it wants. Of course today it chose to draw her. Those big eyes framed with long, thick, dark lashes and those beautiful plump lips that taste like fucking heaven. Christ she’s beautiful. Damn her.
Tearing the drawing from the sketchpad, I screw it up and toss it on the floor. Grabbing my cigarettes, I get out of the car and walk across the park, eventually settling under a tree.
I open my pad to a fresh page. This time I make sure I control what my hand does. No fucking kid. It ends up being a picture of a skull with a snake coming out of the eye sockets and black roses wrapped in its tail. That’s more like it. Placing it on my lap, I light another cigarette and I sit back and admire my handiwork.
“Hey, buddy. Got a light?” someone asks. I look up to see a guy approaching covered in tattoos. He has a huge silver spike piercing through his eyebrow and one-inch ear plugs in his lobes. I don’t mind the odd piercing, but stretching your earlobe seems extreme to me. It’s not like you’re gonna be wearing plugs in your ears when you’re seventy years old. What are you gonna do with those huge-arse fucking holes then?
“Sure,” I say throwing it to him.
“Thanks. I left mine at the shop.” He leans forward and passes it back once his cigarette is lit. “Hey, did you draw that?” he asks looking down at my sketchpad.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“That’s pretty good. Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out,” I say handing it to him. I’ve never shown anyone my work before, but I don’t know this guy, so who cares what he thinks? I don’t.
“That would make a fucking awesome tatt. Ever thought of selling these?” he asks.
“Nah. I just do it for fun.”
“I own the tattoo parlour across the road,” he says pointing across the park towards the line of shops on the other side of the street. He flicks back through some of the other drawings. “Fuck, these are wicked.”
“Thanks man,” I answer. I’ll admit I’m pretty stoked that he likes my work.
“I’m serious. I’d love to buy some of these. I’m always looking for new designs. You wanna sell them?” I shrug. Do I? I’m not really sure. It would be kind of cool to know my drawings were inked on someone permanently. I’ve even considered getting a few myself when I can afford it. Tattoos don’t come cheap. “Do ya wanna come check out my shop?”
“Sure, why not,” I reply, standing. I’ve got nothing better to do.
“Jax,” he says extending his hand to me.
“Carter.”
I walk with him across the street. His shop’s pretty cool. It doesn’t look like much from out in the street, but inside the setup is wicked. My eyes dart around before landing on the girl behind the desk. She has a full sleeve tattoo on both arms and hot pink hair, but believe it or not it suits her. She’s pretty hot. She has a nice rack, too. I’m guessing she’s in her early twenties.
“Candice, this is Carter,” Jax says as we approach her.
She makes no attempt to hide the fact she’s checking me out. “Hi handsome,” she winks.
“Hey,” I say with a flick of my head.
“Check out these drawings,” Jax says giving her my sketchpad. I know my drawings are good, but I’m uncomfortable about her seeing them for some reason.
“Wow, these are amazing. Did you do these?” she asks making eye contact with me. I nod. “They’re great. Oh I’d love this one on my arse,” she says pointing to the image of a skull laying across a bed of roses. Her comment makes me smile. I bet she’s got a nice arse, too.
“I’ll give you a hundred and fifty dollars,” Jax says suddenly. I shrug.
“I guess.” I still can’t believe he wants to buy them.
“Alright.” He flips through the book and counts how many drawings there are. “Fifteen,” he says leaning over to pick up the calculator off the counter. He presses some numbers into it. “That’s … two thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars,” he adds. “You happy with that?”
“You’re paying me a hundred and fifty dollars per drawing?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yeah. Did you think it was one fifty for the lot?”
“I did.” I feel stupid now. Jax laughs and shakes his head at my naivety.
“These are good man. I’ll make more than my money back in one sitting. They’re going to sell well. I already know a few guys that are gonna love these.”
“Shit,” I say, smiling as I shake my head. Who knew a few little drawings could make me that much cash? I’ll be able to get those parts I put on hold for the car now.
“I’ve got a client coming in shortly. I’ve gotta go set up. Candice will fix you up with the cash. It was nice meeting you man,” he says shaking my hand. “If you have any more drawings you wanna get rid of, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” I reply. I’m still shocked. This is fucking awesome.
“No, thank you. Catch ya on the flip side,” he says walking towards the back rooms. I like him. He’s a cool guy.
Candice opens the register and starts counting out the cash onto the counter. “There you go, handsome.” She gives me a flirtatious smile when she hands me the money.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the money and shoving it into my pocket. I watch as she carefully tears out the pages with the drawings on them before picking up a pen and writing something inside the cover of my pad.
“Here. I wrote my number inside. If you ever want to hook up give me a call. I’d like to see what else you can do with those hands of yours.” I chuckle at her comment as I reach for my sketchpad. I like a woman who knows what she wants.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say with a wink as I turn to walk out of the shop. Usually I’d be all over that, but I need to sort this shit out with Indiana first. Fuck me.
I decide to get something to eat. Since I left the house so early I haven’t even had breakfast. There’s café a few doors down, so I head in that direction.
Once I’ve eaten I head back to my car. It’s not even midday and I have no plans to go home yet. If I can avoid seeing Indiana all day, I will. Now that I’m cashed up I guess I can do whatever I want.
••••
It’s dark by the time I sneak back into my room. Indi’s bedroom light is off. She’s probably already asleep. Fuck knows what I’m going to do about school in the morning. I’m not sure if I want to give her a lift. Having her near me isn’t a good idea. I need to get these feelings I have, sorted out first.
“Carter, are you in there?” my mum asks knocking on my door.
“Yeah, Mum. Come in.”
“Where have you been all day? I’ve been worried,” she asks, concern etched on her face.
“Just went for a drive. That’s all.”
“Are you okay?” she says, coming to sit beside me on the bed. I recognise that tone. She’s worried. I hate making her worry.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I reply, forcing out a reassuring smile.
“You’re not happy living here, are you, Carter?”
“I’m fine with it, Mum. I just wanted to get out for the day. Honestly.” That’s such a fucking lie. I hate it here, but the thing is, she doesn’t. I can tell she’s happy. All I want is to see her happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m not going to ruin this for her.
Pretending to be happy here is the least I can do for her. I’m sure I’ll be able to stick it out for a few more months. I hope.
“You sure? I’d hate to think that you weren’t.”
“I am, Mum. I like it here.” Another lie. I hate lying to her, but I’m doing it to protect her, so I guess that makes it okay.
“Okay. I’m glad,” she says placing her hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze before she rises from the bed. Leaning down, she kisses my forehead. “Night, baby. I love you,” she adds, gently caressing the side of my face.
“I love you too, Mum.”
After a quick shower I jump into bed. A few minutes later my phone dings. I reach for it in the dark. Fucking Jen. She wants to know if she can come over. If I knew losing myself in her pussy would help I’d say yes, but I know it won’t. Last time I was with her, all I did was think about Indiana. I place my phone on the bedside table, ignoring her message.
When I open my eyes, I look at the clock beside my bed. It’s 7:00am. Fuck I don’t feel like going to school today, but I have to. I think I’ll head off early so I’ll miss Indiana. I’m still not ready to face her after that kiss.
My mum has breakfast ready for me when I walk into the kitchen. I like spending this time with her. Fuckwit has already left for work, so it’s just the two of us. Just like old times.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with Ross next door,” she says placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me.
“Yeah. He’s helping me with my car. He knows all about that kind of thing.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad he’s helping you. I must thank him next time I see him. You know John would help you if he knew about cars, don’t you?” she says like she actually believes that bullshit. Who’s she fucking kidding? That arse wouldn’t help me. Christ he really does have her fooled.
“Yeah,” is all I say, struggling to swallow the food in my mouth. I guess I’d rather have her think he’s nice to me. The alternative would only upset her.
When I head back to my room to grab my backpack, I see Indi sneaking out the gate and hurrying down the side of her house. She must have the same idea as me. Why does that piss me off? I was willing to sneak off without her, but now I know she’s doing the same, I’m not happy about it. Not one fucking bit.
CHAPTER NINE
Indiana
I hear a “Hey,” as I rush down the side of the house. Crap. I want to keep walking, but I can’t. I guess I’m busted. Stopping, I turn around. Carter is hanging out of his bedroom window frowning. I sigh when I see him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snaps.
Is he serious?
I’m pissed with him and I can’t even tell you why. Okay, I can. I laid in bed for hours the other night reeling over that kiss. I didn’t know what to think or do about it. Then yesterday morning, I heard his car start up at the crack of dawn. I ran to my window just in time to see him backing out of the driveway.
He didn’t come back until after 9:00pm. He was gone for over fifteen hours. Did he stay out all day to avoid seeing me, or was it something else? Or should I say someone else? Why that thought bothers me I can’t say, but it does. A lot. So many scenarios went through my head as the hours ticked by and he didn’t return. The later it got, the more worried I became. Was he with Jen? Or worse, his ex-landlady?
“I’m going to catch the bus,” I snap, folding my arms over my chest in annoyance.
“Like hell you are.” He jumps out of his window and makes his way towards me. I turn and start heading for the street. “Hey,” he says reaching out to grab my arm when he catches up to me. “What’s up your arse?”
“Nothing,” I say, trying to free my arm from his grip.
“Well why are you sneaking off then?” I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s hurt. Turning around, I face him. Shit. He is hurt. It’s written all over his face.
“Where did you go yesterday?” I ask. It’s none of my business, but it’s been eating at me all night. I’m not his mother, and I know one short, incredible, hot-as-hell kiss certainly doesn’t make me his girlfriend, but damn it I want to know.
“Out,” is all he says. I’m tempted to say, I know you went out, dumbass, but I don’t. I narrow my eyes at his evasiveness.
“Where?”
“For a drive.” Well that tells me a lot. Not. “Is that what’s this is about?” he asks.
“No,” I answer, because suddenly I’m feeling like a fool for even being upset about this. He doesn’t have to answer to me.
“Liar.”
“I am not,” I snap, placing my hands on my hips.
“Yes you are. You’re upset that I went out, aren’t you? We share a kiss and now I’m not allowed to go anywhere without you. That’s a little unreasonable don’t you think?”
“If that’s what you think, then you’re even more full of yourself than I originally thought.” I turn and walk away. Not because I’m angry at what he said, but I’m embarrassed by the way I’m carrying on. He’s right. I am being unreasonable. I have no right to be angry with him. Real smooth Indi. He’s going to think I’m like that crazy bitch in fatal attraction. He probably thinks I’m going to cook his rabbit. Well, he would if he had one.
“Get back here,” he demands. Ignoring him, I keep walking. I only make it to the sidewalk before I’m lifted into the air and flung over his shoulder. He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. After he fishes out his key from his pocket, he opens the passenger side door and deposits me inside the car.
Somebody kill me now.
Silent. That’s how we remain all the way to school. That’s a good thing. I’m humiliated for acting like a spoilt child. I guess the name kid suits me now. “Be here this afternoon when it’s time to go home, or so help me,” he says in a warning tone once he parks the car. His ridiculous command almost makes me want to laugh. Almost. Instead, I’m relieved the car is no longer moving. Time to make my escape and get as far away from him as humanly possible.
••••
“Spill,” Meg says as I approach my locker. I avoided her calls all day yesterday. “Nothing to tell,” I say, pushing her aside so I can put my bag inside.
“Indiana Isabella Montgomery.” She always uses my full name when she’s upset with me. Damn her. She’s not going to give up until I tell her everything. Closing the door, I lean my head against the locker and exhale an exasperated breath.
“We kissed. That’s it. Are you happy now?”
“Oh. My. God. I knew it. I was worried when you didn’t take my calls, but then I thought maybe you were spending the day with your hot-as-hell neighbour,” she says excitedly.
I wish.
Ignoring her I walk away, heading towards my first class. “Indi,” she calls out to my retreating back whilst running to catch up. She reaches for my arm pulling me to a stop. “What has gotten into you today? Are you angry at me or something?”
“No,” I reply turning to face her. The worry I see on her face brings tears to my eyes. Maybe everything that’s happened since he kissed me is the real reason I’m upset. I’m guessing that’s what it is.
Without saying a word, she drags me down the corridor into the ladies room. “What’s going on?” she asks when we’re away from prying eyes. I have no words. Placing my hands over my face, I start to cry. “What the hell?” She pulls me into her arms, holding me tight. “What did that bastard do to you?”
“Nothing,” I eventually say. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she pushes me back so she can see my face.
“Bullshit. In the twelve years we’ve been friends, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen you cry.” When a few other girls walk in, she pulls me into a stall, locking us in. I’m grateful for that. The rumour mill is rife in this damn school. If it gets out that I’m crying in the toilets, people are bound to make shit up.
I end up telling her everything. From the kiss, to him going MIA yesterday, and what happened this morning. “Babe, I think you’re reading too much into this.”
“You think?” I ask, because I really need her thoughts on this. My mind is all over the place.
“Yes. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. I see the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you, Indi. I can’t see him hooking up with someone else when he has feelings for you.” I shrug. Does he have feelings for me? Or does he just want to get in my pants, like Brad?
Once I’ve pulled myself together, she lets us out of the stall. I splash some cold water on my face before we leave. I’m going to try and put it out of my mind for now.
Carter Reynolds has messed with my head enough.
I manage to avoid running into Carter for the rest of the day. I did see him from a distance at lunchtime. Well, I saw his back as he stormed out of the lunchroom. Brad decided to come and sit with us today. I’m not sure if that had anything to do with it.
Since I gave Brad the brush-off, he hasn’t left me alone. I guess he doesn’t like being told ‘no’. I’m probably the first girl in history to ever turn him down. He can try all he wants, but I can assure you this is one pair of panties he won’t be getting into.
Following orders, after my last class I make my way to the car park. Carter is looking ridiculously hot leaning up against his car as I walk towards him. I try my best not to check him out, but my traitorous eyes seem to have a mind of their own. Ugh!
“Like what you see, kid?” he asks. God his cockiness annoys me.
“Whatever,” I retort, rolling my eyes as I make my way towards the passenger side. He chuckles as he climbs in. Neither of us speak for the first few minutes of the drive.
“Are you going to continue with the silent treatment?” he asks. I don’t answer. “Are you going to tell me what I’ve done to upset you, or are you just moody because it’s that time of the month?”
“What? Ewww. No. I can’t believe you just said that.” He throws back his head and laughs. It’s one of those rare moments. He’s absolutely breathtaking when he laughs like that.
“Well, at least I got you to talk to me,” he says all smug.
I let out a deep regretful breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks glancing over at me.
“For my behaviour. It was uncalled for.”
“Are you going to tell me what upset you?”
“No. It was dumb. Just forget it,” I confess.
“Already forgotten,” he replies smiling as he reaches over and places his hand on my outer thigh. “For what it’s worth, if it was me that upset you, I’m sorry, too.” Wow. Did he just apologise? They’re two words I never thought I’d hear come out of his mouth.
Removing his hand from my leg, he places it back on the steering wheel. I find myself wishing he hadn’t. “I noticed Brad sniffing around you today,” he says a few minutes later.
“Yeah. I think I wounded his pride by telling him I wasn’t interested.”
“You told him that?”
“I told him last week. I’m guessing by his actions today he didn’t take me seriously.”
“Want me to have a talk to him?” he offers turning his head in my direction.
“No,” I laugh. “I can just imagine what you’d say. I’m a big girl. I can handle him.”
“You’re a big girl?” he asks sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. He’s suppressing a smile though, so I know he’s joking. “Do you have mirrors in your house?”
“Ha ha,” I reply as I reach over and playfully punch him in the arm. We both start laughing. I still have no idea where this thing is going between us, but I’m glad we’re kind of okay again.
When he doesn’t take the turn-off leading towards our street, I’m surprised. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’ve got to pick something up. I thought maybe we could grab a burger while we’re out.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him. It both pleases and surprises me that he’d want to hang out with me.
We pull up outside the place we ate at the other day. We even sit in the same booth. “You want the same thing again?” he asks. “I still can’t believe you ate all of that last time. Do you have hollow legs or something?”
“No,” I shrug. “I’ve always been a big eater.” He smiles and shakes his head.
“I don’t know where you put it. There’s nothing of you.”
While waiting for our food to arrive, we fall into easy conversation. Nothing dreary like last time, thankfully. When he’s not being a douche he’s actually quite funny. This would have to be the best we’ve ever gotten on.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I say a while later as we leave the restaurant. “You’re actually not that bad when you’re being nice,” I joke, although I’m deadly serious. He drapes his arm over my shoulder.
“You’re pretty alright, too, for an annoying little kid,” he laughs. I playfully elbow him in the side. “I’m just messing with you. Hanging with you isn’t as painful as I thought it would be.” I smile because I know in his twisted sort of way that’s a compliment. He leads me towards Mr. Gregory’s shop.
“You’re not going to put more parts on hold are you? Don’t you think you should wait until you can afford the other ones first?” I ask.
“Actually, I’m here to pick them up,” he replies.
“I thought you didn’t have the money for them.” It makes me instantly suspicious.
“I didn’t. Let’s just say I happened to come into a little bit of money yesterday,” he says winking. My heart drops. I was right. He did go and see that whore-bag, his ex-landlady. I feel like I’m going to be sick. He promised me he wouldn’t go back there.
“Do you mind if I go and wait in the car?” I ask, trying my best to play it cool.
“Sure. You okay?”
“Yeah. I think I just ate too much,” I reply, forcing out a smile. He chuckles.
“You certainly can eat a lot for a squirt.”
“Ha ha,” I say sarcastically, holding my hand out for his car keys. Tears burn my eyes as I leave the shop. I take a few deep breaths to will the tears away, but a few manage to spill over. I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand. I can’t believe he went back there. At least before he was doing it for his mum, for rent and for food. To sell your body for car parts though, that’s shameful.
Once I’m seated in the car, I pull my iPod and earplugs out of my bag. I need a distraction otherwise I might do something incredibly stupid, like burst into tears. I’m hurt. Maybe I have no right to be, but I am.
Flicking through my playlists, I find what I need. Placing the plugs into my ears, I press play. The first song booms to life. This playlist, funnily enough, is called ‘Distraction’. Perfect for what I need right now.
It has no sad or sappy songs on it, nothing that would make me sad or possibly cry. I actually made this list up last year. Every year on the anniversary of my mum’s death, or her birthday, my dad goes MIA. They’re the only two days of the year I cannot count on him for anything. He locks himself in the bedroom he once shared with my mother, with a bottle of scotch, and I don’t see him again until the next morning.
That’s where my ‘Distraction’ playlist comes in. As night falls and my dad’s bottle of scotch has been consumed, and the heartache of missing my mum settles in, he starts to cry. It breaks my heart. It’s the same thing every year. I wish more than anything I could take his pain away.
I’m sure he doesn’t realise that I can hear him, but I can. I usually lay in my bed and cry too … for him, for my mum, for our family. Last year I decided I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I can’t stand to hear him falling apart. He’s usually so strong and put together. I guess he’s allowed those two days a year to reflect and be consumed by his loss, hence the playlist. I listen to it until I fall asleep, trying hard not to think of my dad falling to pieces in his room.
A few minutes later there’s a tap on the window. Turning my head I find Mr. Gregory standing there, smiling. Pausing the music, I wind down my window. “Hello Indi,” he says.
“Hi, Mr. Gregory. How are you?”
“I’m good, and you?” he answers.
“I’m fine thanks.” Which is a lie. I’m far from fine.
“Well I just wanted to say hi. Best be getting back to the shop.”
“Goodbye,” I say, forcing out a smile.
“Bye. Tell your dad I said hello.”
“I will.” When he walks away I quickly put my earplugs back in and press play. If I continue to listen to the music on the way home, I won’t have to talk to Carter.
Leaning my head back on the headrest, I close my eyes. I don’t hear Carter get in the car because of the music, but I feel him. I know his eyes are on me, but I don’t look in his direction until I feel his hand tap my leg. Removing one of my earplugs, I turn my head to face him. “You feeling okay?” he asks.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Before he says another word, I reinsert the earplug and close my eyes again. That’s how I stay for the remainder of the drive. I feel his eyes boring into me a number of times on the way home, but I don’t dare look his way.
When we pull into his driveway, I remove my earplugs and reach for my bag on the floor. “You sure you’re alright? You’re acting weird,” he says as my hand grasps the door handle.
“Yep. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll see you later,” I answer glancing at him. Bad move. He looks hurt and that makes me feel like a bitch for the way I’m acting. His pleading eyes search out mine. I know he’s probably wondering what’s got into me.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say breaking his stare. I hear him sigh, but I ignore him. That makes me feel even worse.
••••
I feel the first tear fall as soon as I walk through the door. Twice in one day he’s made me cry. I’m not usually an emotional person. What is he doing to me? My dad’s at work at the moment, so I’m all alone. I’m used to it. It doesn’t usually bother me, but today it does.
Retrieving my phone out of my pocket, I call Meg. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” I ask as soon as she picks up.
“Are you crying, Indi?” I can hear the concern in her voice.
“Can I stay or not?”
“Of course. What’s wrong, babe?”
“I’ll talk to you when I get there,” I reply wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I feel stupid for crying.
“I’ll get my mum to come and get you. We’ll be there in five minutes,” she says.
“Thank you.”
