Текст книги "Unspeakable"

Автор книги: Michelle K. Pickett

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

I stood at my window, overlooking the street, waiting for Brody to drive up. As soon as I saw his Jeep, I hurried out of my bedroom and slipped out of the sunroom door. I jogged to his Jeep and hopped in.

“Hey you,” he said, with a smile. Jeez, he could stop hearts with that smile.

“Hey back.”

“Wanna go to my aunt’s property? I want to show you something.”

“Sure.” I didn’t tell him that I’d go just about anywhere with him if he asked.

He pulled into the field and parked in the same place he did the night he brought me there to watch the movie. Grabbing a blanket out of the back of the Jeep, he opened my door to help me out. Again, I was perfectly capable of getting out myself, but I wouldn’t give up the chance for him to touch me. Even an innocent touch sent my body into a frenzy, creating feelings I’d never felt before. Feelings that confused me, but felt oh, so good. And I greedily took as many as he was willing to give.

He gripped my waist to help me down, and I put my hands on his arms. His biceps flexed under my hands, and I nearly groaned out loud. He pulled me close to him, and our faces were so close that I had to remind myself to breath. It was heady, heart stopping, and made me feel completely off balance. And I wanted it. I wanted it all. I wanted him.

Is he trying to torture me?

When he set me on the ground, we stood there, our bodies touching, looking in to each other’s eyes. He reached up and placed a lock of hair behind my ear before grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the Jeep.

He spread the blanket on the ground and sat down on it. “Wait until you see this. You’ll love it.” After he pulled me down on the blanket next to him, he laid down on his back. “Lay down.”

I eased myself next to him. “What am I looking for?”

“Just look up,” he whispered.

“It’s beautiful.” The sky was so black, not like in the city where the lights turned it into a murky gray. Stars were sprinkled across the inky sky, bright and beautiful, twinkling like they were winking at us. “I’ve never seen so many stars.”

“You can’t see them in town with all the lights.”

“It’s amazing.”

“I come here sometimes to think. It calms me,” Brody murmured.

“Thank you for bringing me.” I looked at him. He stared at the sky. I took my time looking at his profile, my eyes roaming over his face. He hadn’t shaved and a day’s worth of stubble covered his cheeks, giving him a sexy, rugged look.

He reached out and threaded his fingers through mine. I turned and gazed at the stars. It was perfect, lying with him in the dark, the stars shining above us. I wasn’t sure how long we lay there silent, holding hands. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours—it didn’t matter. I could have stayed there all night with him. It felt right.

“Why do you stay with him?” Brody asked quietly.

I opened my mouth to answer, but closed it and shook my head. My eyes filled with tears. I didn’t have an answer to give him. Not a good one—not the truth, anyway.

Brody rolled to his side and wiped my tears away with the pads of his thumb. “You’re not happy with him. Anyone who pays attention can see that. And I swear on my life if he hits you again, I’ll kill him.”

“Jaden doesn’t hit me.” I tried to pull away, but Brody held me in place.

“Willow, I’ve seen the bruises. Everyone has.”

“He’s never hit me. He’s a jerk sometimes, yeah, but he’s never hit me. I’m just clumsy, and I bruise easily. I’m fair-skinned, so they look worse than they are.”

Please, please just let it go.

Brody shook his head. His hand fell away from my face and he reached down, pushing up the sleeve of my shirt, looking in my eyes. “You can’t hide them all with big bracelets and long-sleeves.” His fingers lightly traced the bruises circling my wrist. His touch was so gentle.

“I… I stumbled and—”

“You said you’d never lie to me. Don’t lie for him. These marks are the perfect imprint of a hand.” His voice was hard, and I flinched.

What do I say? How do I get him to leave it alone? The truth? Can I tell him the truth? I want to tell him, tell somebody.

“It’s late. I need to get home before they miss me.”

Brody sighed and let go of my hand. “Okay.”

We picked up the blanket and climbed into the Jeep. Brody was silent as he drove me home, stopping a few houses away from mine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turned and smiled at him. “Thanks for tonight. It was… perfect.”

He didn’t smile back. “Willow, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

Tears pressed at the back of my eyes. “Yes, it does,” I whispered before climbing out of his Jeep. I ran to my house, slipping through the door with tears staining my face.

I wish you were right and things could be different. But wishing gets me nothing. He knows what she did. What I did. She could’ve gotten to him. But she didn’t even try… neither did I. Jaden has his hooks in me until I can leave and get as far away as possible.

Breathe. Just breathe. This won’t last forever.

Friday night, my favorite night of the week. Or not. I sat on the bleachers right behind the players and watched the football game. Exactly where Jaden told me to be. I didn’t get to spend time with Jenna or Tim or any of my other friends. He didn’t even want me getting up and leaving to go to the concession stand alone. Karen followed me. I felt like a fugitive.

At least I was going to get to see Brody for more than just an hour that night. I was staying over at Jenna’s house. Jaden wasn’t pleased, but I told him he could go do something very naughty to himself that involved an ‘F’ and ‘you.’ Something I didn’t generally say, but it fit the situation and Jaden just brought it out in me. He took the hint, for once, and gave in without too much of a fight.

Jenna was all for Brody and me spending the evening together. She even had the logistics of how I’d get in and out of her house all worked out. I loved her. I just had to wait for the game to end and for Jaden to shower, blow dry his freakin’ hair, change, and then take me home. By the time he did that, it would be two hours after the game ended. Jenna and I planned to meet up three hours after the game. She’d pick me up and then drop me off at Brody’s house.

It was planned out perfectly. But there was a saying about the best-laid plans. They rarely worked out. Jaden didn’t bother showering. He just changed and met me in the car. He wanted to go to Jamieson’s party. He knew I was supposed to be at Jenna’s that night, so my curfew wouldn’t be an issue. When I pitched a fit about having to go to the party, he told me to tell Jenna to meet us there.

“She doesn’t want to be at a party with all your skanky friends any more than I do,” I snapped. That earned me a smack on the mouth.

“Check the attitude, Willow.”

“Take. Me. Home. Now.”

He drove to the party, despite my demand to be taken home. I expected no less. When we got to Jamieson’s, I rummaged in the kitchen drawers until I found a phonebook to find a number for a cab.

Jaden ripped the book out of my hands and grabbed my cell phone. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Calling a cab to take me home,” I said, reaching for my phone.

He held my phone over my head. “You’ll leave when I do,” Jaden said, tossing my phone at me.

As soon as Jaden walked away, I texted Jenna and asked her to pick me up. She was there in twenty minutes—it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.

We were halfway home when I saw a car that looked a lot like Jaden’s Mustang in the side mirror. I turned in my seat to get a better look and could see the cherry red paint when it drove under a streetlight. I was sure it was him. “Crap. Jaden’s following us.” My voice cracked.

“What do you want me to do?” Jenna glanced at me.

I faced forward and sighed. “Just take me home so I can grab my stuff, and come get me at ten like we planned.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him. He’s been drinking, and he’s pissed off.” Jenna shook her head.

“Everything will be fine. I won’t be alone with him. My mom and Ralph will be there, remember?”

“Yeah, we both know Ralph won’t give a rat’s ass what Jaden does.”

Jenna’s comment surprised me and I glanced at her, fumbling for something to say. “My mom with be home. It’ll be fine. You’ll be right back to get me.”

“Yeah. Be careful.” Jenna dropped me in front of my house. “I’ll see you in an hour,” she said before she drove away.

Jaden was out of his car before the tires finished squealing in my driveway. And he wasn’t happy.

Me: Is your mom home?

Brody: No. Why?

Me: Just asking. Gotta go.

Brody: Everything ok?

Me: Yeah. See you later.

Brody: K.

Jamming my phone in my pocket, I slipped out of my bedroom. I crept through the house and out of the sunroom door. If I rode my bike to the field between our subdivisions, I could cut through the yards and get to Brody’s house quicker than if I stayed on the roads.

I rode my bike to the field. There was a trail carved out where neighborhood kids rode their bikes, jumping off ramps made out of cinder blocks and old plywood. I flew down the trail, dodging the bike ramps. My teeth clamped together when my bike jumped over the bumps and ruts in the ground. Thank goodness, I had a mountain bike. Nothing else would have been able to handle the wicked trail. When I got across the field, I dumped my bike against a fence before jumping it.

I darted through the backyard, jumping over toy cars, pails, and shovels littering the ground next to a sandbox. When I came to the road, I turned right, making my way to Chestnut Trail and taking a left. I ran to the end of the street where a beautiful Victorian house sat. Climbing the stairs to the large wraparound porch, I bolted to his door, sagging against it. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, blinking back the waves of nausea and dizziness washing over me. I felt like I’d been on a tilt-a-whirl a few hundred times. I could barely walk straight I was surprised I’d made it to his house at all.

I was still propped against the door when the porch light flickered on. I took a big step backward just as Brody pulled the door open. He stood there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

Oh, this wasn’t a good idea. He’s half-naked and looks so much better in person than in my fantasies—all of which involve him.

“Willow? What’s wrong?”

I stepped into the light streaming from the door. Brody’s face hardened. I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“I’m gonna kill that sorry son-of-a-bitch.” He reached out and pulled me gently into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. “What happened?”

I started to cry. Not little tears. I sobbed. Brody wrapped me in his arms, my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath my ear. The warmth of his skin enveloped me, and I lost myself in him. He held me like that for a while—I don’t know how long—smoothing my hair from my face or running his fingers up and down my back.

When my sobs turned to soft sniffles, he led me to the couch. “Sit down and tell me what happened,” he said and sat next me, angling his body toward me.

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He caught my hand in his when I stood.

“Brody, I really need to use the restroom first.” He let go of my hand. “Will you text Jenna and let her know I’m here?” I asked over my shoulder as I walked into the hall bathroom.

Splashing cool water on my face, I wiped the running mascara from my eyes. Then I stood and stared at the face looking back at me.

My eye had a jagged cut above it. Dried blood was smeared over the side of my face. Pieces of hair were stuck in it. The top lid on my eye was already turning a deep purple and swelling. My lip was bleeding where I bit down on it when he hit me, but so far, it wasn’t swelling. I didn’t look half as bad as I felt.

I finished in the bathroom and walked into the hall. The room tilted to the left and the lights blinked on and off. I felt like I was twirling around and around like I’d done playing as a child.

“Brody?”

He was there in an instant. At least, it seemed instantaneous. But then again, I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. One second I called out to him and then I turned, realizing I was lying on the floor in his arms.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“You passed out. Let’s go. I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

“No!”

“Willow, you have a gash on the back of your head. Your hair is matted with blood. You probably need stitches. You need to see a doctor.”

“No. I’m not going to the hospital. I can’t. I came here because I thought I could trust you.”

“You can trust me. You can always trust me, but I really think you need to see a doctor.”

“No.”

Brody sighed and helped me up. “Are you still dizzy?”

“Not as long as you’re holding me up.” I smiled at him.

“Let’s go upstairs. I think there’s a first aid kit up there.” Brody helped me up the winding stairway and into the master bath. “Sit here.” He pulled out a small bench covered in pink brocade.

“I can’t sit there. I’ll get it dirty.”

“It’s fine. Sit.”

“Stop being so bossy, Ace.”

“Then stop being so damn pigheaded and let me take you to the hospital,” he snapped.

His arm darted out in front of me, and I flinched away.

“Shit, Willow, I was just turning the sink on. You’re not scared of me, are you? Because I’d never—”

“No, I’m not scared of you. You make me feel safe. That’s why I came.”

Brody straddled the bench next to me and cupped my cheek in his hand. He rubbed his thumb lightly over my skin. His eyes never left mine as he leaned forward. Our mouths were so close that I could smell his minty breath. I dropped my eyes from his and turned my face away.

He sighed and kissed the area in front of my ear lobe. I tried to hide the shiver that coursed through my body at the feel of his lips against my skin.

He nudged my face so I was looking at him. “You’re so beautiful.”

I let out a half laugh, half sob. “I’m mangled.” I was crying again. How could he think I was beautiful? I was damaged. Inside and out.

Brody shook his head, his hand still cupping my face. “I’m looking at a beautiful girl sitting in front of me, one that has driven me wild since the day I met her. You’re so freakin’ amazing and somehow, you’ve missed the memo. You’re kind, funny, intelligent, and so damn gorgeous. You’re perfect, Willow, every part of you.”

“I’m not perfect,” I whispered.

“You’re perfect for me.”

Breathe. You’re strong. Brody makes you stronger. Breathe.

Looking into his eyes, I smiled. I could feel butterflies filling my stomach—the colorful kind. Beautiful and graceful. No one had ever made me feel as beautiful as Brody did, as wanted, as loved.

“You’re so cute when you blush.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb over my pink cheek. “Come on, sit next to the tub.”

“What are we doing?”

“I want to clean the cut on your head and see how bad it is,” he said, throwing towels on the steps leading up to the jetted soaking tub.

“Wow, this is an awesome tub.”

“Do you want to take a bath and wash the blood away?”

“Um…” I bit my bottom lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“I meant you could take a bath. You. Alone. By yourself.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Not that I wouldn’t take a bath with you, you know, if you asked me. You’d have to ask real nice.” He laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head, stretching his arms.

Watching his muscles stretch made all rational thought drain from my head. Seconds ticked by, and Brody gave me a concerned looked when I didn’t answer. I forced myself to look away and concentrate on the conversation. “No, that’s okay. Thanks though.”

“Can’t blame a guy for askin’. Here, sit on this step, lean back against these towels, and rest the back of your neck on the edge of the tub.” Brody sat on the tile ledge and turned on the water. He pulled the retractable bath-head out and ran the warm water over my hair. “Is that okay? It’s not too hot? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Mm. It’s great.” I watched his face as he sprayed the water over my hair.

“I’ve never done this before. Are you sure it’s okay?” He looked into my eyes as he drizzled some shampoo on my hair.

“I’ve never done this either.”

I let my gaze wander over him. His arms flexed as he moved the water over my head. His rippled abs were just a finger space away. I let the tip of my finger run across his skin, watching as the muscles contracted and goose bumps covered them. His gaze darted to mine.

I looked up at him as he gently shampooed my hair and then applied conditioner. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked, like he did when he concentrated on school work. When he glanced down, he caught me staring at him and smiled. He wiped the blood from the side of my face and above my eye.

“Is this okay?” he asked again.

“It feels good.”

Wrapping a towel around my hair, he squeezed the water out before wrapping it in a dry towel and helping me sit up. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead before brushing a droplet of water off my face. “Dizzy? Do you feel okay?”

“I’m good.” I smiled.

“Nothing started bleeding again. That’s a good sign.”

“See, no doctor required.”

“I still think—”

“No.” I shook my head, immediately wishing I hadn’t when pain sliced through it.

“Hurts, huh?”

“Don’t be smug. It’s not a good look on you, Ace.”

Brody helped me stand. I ran a brush through my hair while he grabbed the towels and threw them in a corner—typical guy—then he helped me back downstairs to the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” He set a plate of fresh vegetables and hummus in front of me.

“Hummus?” I smiled.

“Yeah, someone told me it wasn’t a gross as it looked. Turns out, she was right. You trying to change the subject?”

“Can you just let me stay here for a while?”

“You should know the answer to that,” he said, sitting on the barstool next to me. He put his elbow on the counter and rested his cheek in his upturned palm.

I turned my head slightly and looked at him through my eyelashes. “Okay, then can I stay without talking about… things?”

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and nodded. “If that’s what you want.” He studied me for a moment before saying, “Willow, look at me.” I angled my body toward him. He stared into my eyes. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I looked down at my plate, pushing the hummus around with a carrot stick.

Brody sighed and stood. “You want to watch a movie?” He held his hand out to me. I threaded my fingers with his. “Come on. Bring the hummus with you.” He started climbing the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“I was watching a movie upstairs when you got here.”

“Oh.” I walked with him upstairs, to a room at the end of the hall. He walked inside. I hesitated at the door. “Your bedroom?”

He nodded. I stood just inside the door and looked around. His room was twice as big as mine was. The walls were painted a silvery gray, and the curtains and bed linens were navy blue. A flat-screen television hung on the wall across from his bed. One wall held a dresser and a desk with an open laptop on it. The other had built-in bookcases crammed full of books.

Wandering over to the bookshelves, I set the plate of hummus down on the bedside table. I fingered some the books, reading the titles. Some recent titles I recognized, while others were older, classics.

“I have an e-reader now, but I can’t part with these,” he said behind me, his breath skimming my neck.

“I didn’t know you liked to read so much.”

“Yeah. Like you,” he said.

I turned and looked at him. He was standing so close I could feel his body heat, and I became acutely aware of his lack of shirt. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but they had little minds of their own and wandered down his chest, taking in his broad shoulders, defined—very well defined—chest, tight, rolled abs, and oblique muscles as they disappeared into his low-riding sweatpants.

Ugh, I think I’m going to hyperventilate. At least if I faint, I can blame it on my head. But holy shiznet is he ripped.

I shook my head and tried to remember what we were talking about… books, yeah, books. “Um… how do you know I like to read?”

“I pay attention.” He shrugged one of his totally orgasmic shoulders. “You’re always taking books from the library.”

I, however, was not paying attention. Not at all. Not to what he was saying, anyway. I was paying a great deal of attention to how he looked, and he looked amazing. Like an underwear model, Greek god, and any other extraordinarily good-looking guy I could think of—but since my thinking was severely limited by the sex rolling off his body, I couldn’t come up with any more men to compare him to so I settled for, oh holy hell is he hot.

Reaching up, I skimmed my fingertips over the tattoo circling his left bicep. It was an intricate tribal design. I traced it with my finger. He inhaled through his teeth, and goose bumps dotted his skin. I pulled my hand back.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’ve just wondered what it looked like since I saw it in class one day.”

“It’s okay.” His voice came out huskier than normal. Reaching out, he took my hand. “Let’s watch the movie.”

I perched on the edge of the bed. Brody threw pillows against the headboard. “Come here. You’ll be more comfortable sitting against the headboard.”

I scooted next to him. “What are we watching?”

That was the last thing I remembered.

Brody woke me at four in the morning. “Willow, wake up, darlin’”

“Is the movie over?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You fell asleep.”

“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes, wincing. Dropping my hands, I looked at him. “Did you call me darlin’?”

“Just tryin’ it out,” he said with a grin.

I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “Nah.”

“I didn’t think so, either.” He smoothed the hair from my face. “I need to take you to Jenna’s before her parents miss you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I climbed out of bed and followed him downstairs, grabbing my shoes. “Hey, do you think we could swing by the field and grab my bike? I rode it over here last night.”

“Sure. What’s it doing in the field?” Brody asked as he pulled on his Nikes.

“I left it there when I jumped the fence.” I looked up when he didn’t say anything. He was staring at me. “What?” I asked.

He smirked. “Very badass.”

“I just jumped a fence, jeez. You’re easily impressed.”

“Everything you do impresses me.” He skimmed his hand over my hair.

“Well, Ace, the feeling happens to be mutual. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” Brody tilted his head, his brows furrowed.

“I’m not impressed that you woke me up so early. That sucks.”

“You can go back to bed when you get to Jenna’s.”

“Are you kidding? Do you even know Jenna? She’ll want to know everything. Everything. Every single second will need to be accounted for. I’ll never get back to sleep.” I sighed.

“Poor baby,” he said, grinning.

“I see you’re completely torn up over it.”

Jenna was waiting for me at her front door when Brody dropped me off at her house an hour later. She put her fingers to her lips for me to stay quiet—like I was gonna sing and dance—as we made our way to her bedroom. As soon as she closed her door, she swung around and pointed her finger at me.

“Spill. Now.”

So much for sleep.

“Ok, but can we have some caffeine first?” I asked.

She ran downstairs, came back with two Red Bulls, and shoved them at me. “Now talk. I want to know everything. Starting with what happened to your face.”