Текст книги "Crash"
Автор книги: Nicole Williams
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
“Is Jude here?” I asked, immediately wanting to whip myself for asking. If she didn’t already believe I was a desperate loser, that question just certified that presumption.
“Not sure,” she said, taking a drink from her cup.
“Home with the baby?” It was an honest question that came out sounding every kind of bitchy.
“No,” Holly stiffened, her bright blue eyes flashing. “My mom’s babysitting tonight.”
“Holly, I’m sorry,” I said, wishing now I had stayed inside so I wouldn’t be having this conversation from hell. “I’m not trying to be a bitch—”
“It just comes naturally?” she filled in, giving me a fake smile.
“I deserved that.”
“Yep,” she agreed, taking another sip.
We were silent for a while, for so long I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me to say something or if she was having a tough time getting out what she wanted to say.
So I blurted out something neither of us was expecting. “Is he a good dad?”
She looked as surprised by my question as I was. “I’m sure he will be some day.”
A nasty case of realization whip lash hit me. “Wait,” I said, turning towards Holly. “Did you just say some day, as in not present day?”
She bit her lip, thinking something over. “I don’t know how much of this I should be the one to tell you, but—”
“Tell me everything,” I interrupted, scooting closer. “Because no one else will.”
She looked at me under her lashes. “That might be because you drew your own conclusions before asking questions.”
I’d held the same breath now for a solid minute.
“Are you ready to ask questions now?” she said, leaning back on her hand. “The right questions?”
I nodded.
“Ask away,” she said.
Did I want to go down this road? Did I want to have assumptions confirmed or denied at this stage in the game? When a face eclipsed my thoughts, one with a long scar and silvery gray eyes, I had my answer. “Is Jude your baby’s dad?” Might as well get the first one out of the way.
“No.”
Oh my god. The guilt was as sudden as the relief. “Do you and Jude have some sort of relationship together?”
“Yeah,” she answered, taking a sip. “He’s been my best friend since we were in first grade.”
Again, I wanted to slap myself across the face at the same time I wanted to jump and holler for joy. “And that night I followed him to your place,” I said slowly, trying to process everything. “He brought diapers and formula and you guys hugged and you said you had big plans for him and you hugged.” I was reliving the scene, but seeing it with different eyes. Eyes that were less likely to draw conclusions without asking questions.
“And I thought Jude had trust issues,” she muttered, looking at me like she kind of wanted to wring my neck. “I called him earlier that day because I was out of money and the baby was going to be out of food and diapers in about twelve hours if I was lucky. Jude’s been a support from the very beginning since little Jude’s real father wants nothing to do with him.”
I swallowed, remembering the things I’d thought and the things I’d said to him that morning after. I understood why he ignored me the way he did now.
“We hugged because, come on, we’ve been best friends our whole lives.” Holly was counting things off on her fingers, looking at me like this was a childish game. “The plans I had for him that night including fixing up a crib I’d found at a yard sale that day, and yes, he did stay the night,” she said, arching a brow. “On the couch, in case your jump-to-conclusions little mind’s already going there.”
I let everything Holly’d just said sink in. “Why didn’t he tell me about you?” I whispered. “Why didn’t he deny everything when I approached him the next morning?”
She dipped her toes in the water, skating them across the calm surface. “Because I asked him not to tell anyone about little Jude. He knows who the father is and the piece of shit father knows who he is, but I didn’t want anyone else to know the real reason I dropped out of school. The rumor spreaders at Southpointe would have had a field day with that juicy tidbit,” she said, smirking at the night. “And only Jude can speak for why he didn’t tell you the truth about us that morning. Maybe because you wouldn’t have believed it even if he did tell you.”
All I could think about was the look in his eyes that morning I confronted him, telling him I trusted Sawyer over him. The pain and betrayal that darkened his face. “I’m the worst person in the world,” I said, more to myself than anything.
“I thought that too that day Jude came to me, looking like you’d just pulled the heart out of his chest, and told me what happened,” she said, not looking at me.
“I get it now,” I said. “I get why he hates me.” I deserved to be loathed.
Holly chuckled; it was dark and throaty. “You really are a clueless bitch, Lucy,” she said, dumping the rest of her drink into the water. “Jude doesn’t hate you. That man, against everything he knows and I tell him, still loves you.”
There was only one explanation. I’d just crossed into an alternate universe. “He still loves me?” I whispered.
“Still and always will,” she said, shaking her head.
I needed to get up and find Jude. I needed to apologize and beg his forgiveness and find out if what she was saying was true because, even though I’d tried to bury it six feet deep, I still loved him too.
“Thank you, Holly,” I said, meeting her eyes.
She lifted her shoulder, looking out into the lake. “I didn’t do this for you. I did it for him, so no need to feel all indebted to me.”
I smiled at her—the girl I’d assumed was Jude’s lover, the girl who was, in fact, his best friend, and the girl who had set all the facts straight.
“Holly,” I asked, setting my pop to the side. “Who is little Jude’s dad?”
Her breath caught, like I’d caught her off guard. It wasn’t any of my business, and I was expecting her to tell me to go screw myself when she sighed.
“Well, if it isn’t two of the most lovely ladies to have ever graced the halls of Southpointe High.”
Sawyer’s voice cut down the dock, making me groan and Holly go all stiff and silent. The dock creaked beneath his feet as he came towards us, dressed in his standard flat front khakis and name brand polo.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, bending down to kiss me. His breath was rank with alcohol and cranberry juice. “And Miss Holly,” he said, staring down at her. “Always a pleasure to be in your company. How’s the little bastard,” he covered his mouth, his eyes amused, “I mean baby?”
She bolted up, glowering at him. “You’ll never know as far as I’m concerned,” she said, shoving him to the side and jogging off the deck and disappearing into the crowd.
“You might want to be mindful of who you hang around with, Lucy,” he said, sticking his drink free hand in his pocket. “Girls with her reputation don’t help girls with your old reputation.”
“Sawyer, we graduate in a week. I’m not concerned about my reputation,” I said, getting up because I didn’t like the way he was looking down on me with that drunk smile. “And that was a shitty thing to say to Holly. Where do you get off calling her baby a bastard?”
Raising his cup, he said, “Takes one to know one. It’s in the kid’s blood.” Taking a drink, he drained the cup and tossed it into the lake.
“Nice,” I said, crossing my arms. “Aren’t you in fine form tonight?”
“I’m just wound so damn tight, Lucy,” he said, pressing into me and tightening his arms around me, molding his hands around my ass. “I need a release.” Sliding my hair over my shoulder, he ran his lips over my collar bone. “And from the way you’re dressed for me tonight, something tells me you’re finally ready to help me with that.”
“What the hell, Sawyer,” I said, shoving him away, harder than I’d planned, but not as hard as he deserved. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or my super human strength, but Sawyer stumbled back, right into the black lake.
“Damn it, Lucy!” he yelled, kicking to the surface.
“Have a nice swim,” I said, stomping down the dock.
“Lucy! Get back here right now!” he yelled, making a raucous splashing through the water.
“Have a nice life, jerk-off,” I said to myself, grabbing Taylor’s shoes and jogging for the house.
The party had grown and it was now standing room only. People could be amazingly creative when there wasn’t a spare surface to spread over. I was about to grab Taylor from Morrison’s lap so I could get her home and tear the town apart looking for Jude when something too tempting to ignore jumped to mind.
I wound, dodged, and leapt over bodies as I went up the stairs to the second floor. Sawyer’s room was at the end of the hall, probably the only room in the house that wasn’t being used since Sawyer had a key lock installed to keep parents out and horny teenagers from shagging on his bed when he threw these kinds of parties.
However, as his girlfriend, he’d entrusted me with the location of where he kept the spare key, probably hoping I’d one day lock myself in there as a birthday surprise. I’d never been happier I’d said no to a good looking guy before.
Getting on my knees, I crouched beneath the bench at the end of the hallway, sliding the key out of its location. Getting up, I turned the key over in the lock and shoved the door open.
“I thought you’d never ask,” one of the defensive lineman slurred, staggering up to me.
“Yeah,” I said, sliding behind the door. “I could never get that drunk.” Slamming the door shut, I locked it and ran to Sawyer’s bathroom. Standing in Sawyer’s room, fresh from dumping his sorry ass, I couldn’t recall what I’d seen in him. Surely something should pop to mind after spending almost six months with a guy, but there was nothing.
Nothing but a stream of regrets and relief I’d figured it out sooner rather than later.
I pulled the hand towel from the metal ring, sliding the bottom drawer of his bathroom sink open. I didn’t have to fumble around the mass of male hygiene products to find what I was looking for. It was right on top.
Rushing out of the bathroom, I went to his desk and grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote my parting words. I wasn’t even trying to stifle my smile. I rolled up the towel before laying it down on the center of his bed, then propped the lubricant next to it, and stuck the note over the almost empty bottle. I stepped back, admiring my handiwork.
Sawyer was going to lose it whenever he sobered up enough to read words again. I wished I could see the look on his face.
I was turning to leave the room, for good, when I heard it whisper open almost as quickly as it closed. Spinning around, I found Sawyer, dripping wet with key in hand, looking at me like I’d just tripped his trap.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, locking the door behind him.
Other than being a horny bastard, Sawyer had never done anything to make me feel threatened or unsafe or scared. I felt all of those things now.
“What’s this?” he asked, crossing the room towards his bed. “A present?”
I didn’t reply—every instinct in my body was firing, telling me to get out of this room. I slowly started side-stepping my way for the door.
Peeling the note from the bottle, Sawyer’s eyes squinted. “Have fun releasing yourself,” he read, a slow smile stretching over his mouth. Dropping the note onto the bed, his head whipped to where I was making my way towards the door. “Oh, baby, I plan to.”
It was right then, the look on his face even more than his words, that kicked my adrenaline into high gear. I gave up on slow and sprinted towards the door. I wasn’t fast enough.
“Where are you going?” Sawyer said, grabbing me from behind. Damn, he was strong for a stumbling drunk. The icy swim in the water must have sobered him up. “You just got here.”
“Let me go, Sawyer,” I warned, trying to free my arms where he’d pinned them at my sides.
“Or what?” he taunted, dragging me back to his bed. “You going to cry to your could-care-less bitch of a mother, or maybe your wouldn’t-know-if-the-room-was-burning-down father? Or maybe all your friends that were mine before they were yours?” Reaching the side of the bed, he threw me down on the mattress, hovering over me. “Be a good little bitch and behave.” He looked purposefully at his nightstand where I knew he kept some kind of handgun. He’d explained it was to ward off intruders, but apparently it was also handy to threaten a girl into doing whatever he wanted. “Or I’ll have to make you.”
“God, Sawyer. Who the hell are you?” I said, grabbing the bottle rolling on the mattress and lobbing it at him. “You really had everyone fooled, didn’t you?”
“Not quite everyone,” he said, stretching his wet shirt above his head and tossing it into the corner. “Holly and Jude pretty much have my number, but look what that knowledge did to their reputations. If I were you, after tonight, I wouldn’t go crying in the streets to the townsfolk I’m some kind of monster.” He grinned down at me, his eyes wide with excitement. “Because, sweetie, they ain’t going to believe your story over mine.”
I scooted to the side of the bed, calculating how much time it would take me to get to the door, wondering if I could get there faster than Sawyer could get to me. Since he was standing between me and the door, the odds were not in my favor. “Why now? Why after months of being a ‘patient’ boyfriend are you doing this now?”
“Because I can,” he answered, his hands working over his belt. “And because I want to. That’s all the justification I need.”
I had to try. I had to make a run for it, because either way, Sawyer wasn’t going to stop.
“So your brilliant plan is to rape the girl you just had a fight with in front of witnesses, with two hundred people around?” I was trying to appeal to his intelligence, what little he had in his drunken, crazed state.
“No, my brilliant plan is having consensual sex with my girlfriend who’s going away in the fall and wants to have one last romantic night before we part ways,” he said, pulling his belt free and tossing it over with the shirt.
Shit. He’d thought this through. And I knew in a court of law, his story would be the one that would stick. Now was the time to run.
Scrambling across the bed, I dashed for the door and made it three strides before I took a clothesline to the neck. I fell to the floor, coughing, feeling like I was choking on my own throat.
“I wouldn’t recommend trying that again,” Sawyer said, standing over me, his hair leaking drops of lake water on my face.
Turning my head away, I tried to get my breath back. “One day, Sawyer Diamond,” I said between clipped breaths, “someone is going to stand over you the way you are me and kick your ass. And I’m going to have a front row seat.”
He dropped down on me, pinning me with his weight. Shoving my legs apart with his knees, he ran his tongue up my neck to the tip of my ear. “Maybe tomorrow,” he breathed into my ear, “but not tonight. No one’s coming to your rescue tonight.”
Wiggling my legs, trying to free them from his grasp, I lifted my head. “No, Sawyer,” I said, just outside his ear, “no one’s coming to your rescue.” And then that self-defense class my parents forced me to take when I was thirteen paid out its weight in gold. Sinking my teeth into his ear, I wiggled one leg free and planted my foot once, twice, and a third time into his crotch.
He roared in agony, one hand grabbing his ear and the other grabbing his assaulted manhood. Scrambling to get the rest of me from beneath him, I slid along the carpet, knowing if I didn’t make it to the door before he made it to the nightstand, no number of self-defense classes would matter.
Then the door I was crawling towards burst open, part of the jam splintering off. Bursting through the door, Jude took one look at the scene playing out on the floor and went into a rage. Rabid beasts had better self-control than the fury that flashed in his eyes.
Not a word spared, Jude threw himself on top of Sawyer, his fists going to work on him before Sawyer knew someone else had joined us. Flipping Sawyer on his back, Jude straddled him, focusing his fists and fury on his face.
Each hit landed with a crack—each one released a little more blood. Deciphering if Jude’s grunts or Sawyer’s groans were louder was impossible. When it became obvious Jude was not planning on teaching him a lesson, but taking his life, I pushed myself off the floor and stumbled towards them.
“Stop, Jude.” My voice wavered almost as badly as my legs. “Stop.” Reaching out, I rested my hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t stop, but his punches grew slower and less frequent.
“Yeah, you might want to listen to her,” Sawyer said, spitting blood from his mouth onto the carpet. “Unless you want to find yourself locked up again. Who’s going to be here to watch after Lucy when I corner her in some other room then, Ryder?” Sawyer looked up at Jude with a bloody smile, challenging him like he had a death wish.
Jude’s muscles rolled beneath my hand, his breaths lifting and lowering his shoulders half a foot each time. “I told myself the next time I heard about you doing this to another girl, I was going to rip your dick off and stuff it down your throat. But since the girl I found you with was Luce,”—he looked back at me, his whole face lined, before leaning down so his face was an inch from Sawyer’s—“I’m going to kill you.”
And the scariest thing that had happened so far tonight was that threat. Because it wasn’t a threat; I could tell by the tone of his voice that he meant it.
Instead of crawling to them, I was crawling away from them, positioning my body in front of Sawyer’s nightstand. I doubted Jude knew if and where Sawyer kept a weapon, but I also knew he’d look, and the nightstand would be the first thing searched.
Shoving up, Jude stood over Sawyer, seething down at him. “Luce,” he said, keeping his eyes on Sawyer, “mind moving away from there so I can finish this son of a bitch?”
I swallowed—he already knew. “No,” I said.
“Luce, this is between him and me right now,” he said, his back quivering. “Move.”
My fight had shifted from keeping Sawyer from raping me, to keeping Jude from punching the shit out of him, to now keeping Jude from murdering him. I should have hit my exhaustion point about one busted door ago, but I was a girl with a lot of fight in her.
“No,” I repeated, my voice stronger.
“Damn it, Luce,” Jude shouted, “he deserves this!”
I rose, taking a step toward him. “I know,” I said, taking a few more steps until I could wrap my hands around one of his. I waited for him to look at me, and when he finally did, I saw the conflict in his eyes. “But you don’t.”
His eyes closed, the rage still rolling off him. “I’m going to get locked up for good one day, and I can’t imagine a better reason for serving a life sentence than for taking out a bastard like him. I don’t care, Luce.”
Lifting one hand to his cheek, I tilted his face towards mine. “But I do.”
He looked at me, thunder rolling through his eyes, and then down at Sawyer. His entire body stiffened again. “I want to kill him, Luce. I want to kill him more than I’ve wanted anything.” A ripple ran down his back. “I don’t know how to walk away.”
“Let me help you,” I said, waiting. I’d wait however long it took—I wasn’t walking away until he walked away with me.
Below Jude, Sawyer chuckled, spitting another spray of blood. “The felon and the slut riding off into the sunset together,” he laughed. “We won’t have to hold our breath for that happily ever after.”
Jude flinched, but I wouldn’t let him go.
“Don’t waste your life on this bastard,” I said, refusing to look at Sawyer because I was good if I never had to look at that face again. I smiled at Jude. “Why don’t you waste it with me instead?”
The lines smoothed from his face as he held my stare. And then finally he smiled. “I’ll take that deal.”
Nodding towards the door, I pulled on his hand.
Another laugh came from Sawyer. “At least someone’s going to be getting a piece of that ass tonight.”
I groaned—Sawyer had no sense of self-preservation.
Grabbing him by the shirt collar, Jude pulled him up. “You just don’t know when to shut up,” Jude said, drawing his fist tight. “Let me help you.” He drove his fist square into Sawyer’s mouth, sending him crashing back down on the floor.
“Luce.” Jude looked back at me, his face composed. “Wait for me in the hallway,” he said. “I’m not going to kill him,” he added, answering me preemptively.
“Jude.” I wasn’t going to leave him alone this Sawyer.
“Look at me,” he said, waiting for me. “I’m fine. I won’t kill him.” And then, he looked all meaningful at me. “Trust me.”
This was my chance. My chance to show him the trust I’d denied him. The trust he’d deserved that I’d felt he hadn’t. How could I say no and expect us to ever have a fighting chance?
I didn’t want to, I didn’t like it, but it was necessary. “Okay,” I agreed.
That grin I hadn’t seen on his face in so long I thought had disappeared for good appeared. “I’ll be right out,” he said. “Could you send Holly in? She’s waiting in the hallway and I think she’s going to want to see this.”
Trust. Trust. Trust. “Okay. I’ll wait outside,” I said. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Heading for the door, I smoothed my dress back into place, trying to do the same with my hair.
Propped against the wall, Holly had obviously been placed there to make sure no one tried to interrupt Jude and the ass beating he dealt Sawyer.
Her eyes ran down me, her face shadowing. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I answered, coming up to her. “Jude’s asking for you in there.”
She nodded, shoving off the wall. Turning to me, her hands found mine. “Are you all right?” she asked again as a silent exchange took place between us. On a very base level, I got it, I got her, and she got me too. We were like the sisterhood of girls Sawyer preyed on and, although it wasn’t a common denominator to be proud of, it was a bond to be proud of.
“Yes,” I answered, looking her in the eye.
Giving my hands a squeeze, she headed for the bedroom. “You are one tough cookie, Lucy Larson,” she said, looking down at me from the doorway. “I get what Jude sees in you.”
Going against every urge to run back into that room, I didn’t. I hadn’t trusted Jude, I hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt before. I would now.
I earned a few sideways looks from a couple of girls sitting at the top of the stairs, but the second floor was mostly empty. Either the party was winding down or Holly knew how to redirect traffic.
Fiddling with the conundrum that was the dress I had on to pass time, I gave up. No amount of tugging and smoothing would magically create more fabric to cover the parts of my body I preferred to keep covered, and it looked like I owed Taylor a new dress because, thanks to Sawyer, it had a slit up front to match the one on the back.
Another minute went by and I assured myself everything was fine because no blood-curdling screams or gunshots had gone off in the room down the hall, but I was still anxious as all hell. So I grounded some of that nervous energy by pacing the hallway like a caged lioness.
On my fifth turn at the stairs, Jude and Holly marched out of Sawyer’s room, Jude’s expression unreadable, but Holly smiled to herself.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, rushing down the hall to meet them.
Jude glanced over at Holly. “It is now,” he said, opening his arms for me. I curled into him, feeling like parts of me were melting into him. Six months of not feeling right went up in smoke.
“What happened?” I asked against his chest.
“Vindication,” Holly answered, patting her oversized tote. “I’m out of here. I’ve done what I came to do and mom’s going to be pissed if I stay out all night.”
“We are too,” Jude said, tucking me under his arm and steering us towards the stairs. “I need to get Luce home.”
“Wait,” I stopped. “I drove with Taylor. I’m her DD tonight.”
Jude groaned. “Hey, Holl, you mind hunting down Taylor Donovan and giving her a ride home?”
Her face twisted. “If you’re referring to the woman who called me every name in the female book of cattiness, then yes, I do mind,” Holly called back at us, winding down the stairs. “But since you’re the one asking, I’ll put on my big girl, very not bitter panties and drive the bitch home. I’m not walking her to the front door though.”
“You’re a saint,” Jude said, guiding me down the stairs, shoving a guy who almost spilled his beer on me to the side.
“Has anyone seen a raving bitch with nice hair?” Holly shouted at the bottom of the stairs.
Everyone who heard her pointed a different direction.
“Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me,” she said, diving into the crowd. “See you guys later.”
“Hey, Hol!” Jude shouted after her.
She peeked back, almost out of view.
“My compliments on your handiwork up there.”
She flashed us a rock on sign and disappeared into the crowd.
“Come on,” Jude said, keeping me close, “let’s get you out of here.”
Walking out the front door, I realized I’d never been to such a one wrong thing after another party, but as Jude led me down the stairs, I also knew I was glad I came. Slut-tastic dress, awkwardly enlightening conversation with Holly, and Sawyer trying to take advantage of me aside, I had Jude beside me, holding my hand like he was never going to let it go again.
I’d endure a lot worse to hold this hand.
“So what handiwork were you referring to back there?” I asked, pulling Taylor’s keys from my purse.
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, God. How bad is it?” I wouldn’t even let my imagination go.
“Nothing less than he deserved,” Jude said, opening the passenger door for me and taking the keys. “She just put a warning label on him.” He shut the door and took his sweet time coming around the front of the car.
“What kind of a warning label?” I asked as soon as the driver door opened.
Clicking his seatbelt into place, Jude gave me a sheepish look. “The kind that’s tattooed to his groin with a list of the STDs he has.”
I choked on my saliva. “What? You’re not serious.”
Turning the key over, he looked at me with an expression that bled serious.
“Oh, my god,” I breathed. “Crap, does he have an actual list?” I had even more to be thankful to Jude for.
He lifted a shoulder. “Another girl will never have to find out,” he said, whipping the car around and heading down the driveway.
“Anything else?” I asked, fearing the answer.
The corners of Jude’s eyes wrinkled. “We might have Krazy Glued his hand to his dick and glued the index finger of his other hand up his nose.”
My mouth fell open. It was as shocking as it was funny, so I laughed. I visualized the whole event, tattoo start to Krazy Glue finish, feeling totally . . . vindicated. Holly had said it best.
“Can’t you guys get in trouble for that?” I asked when I calmed myself.
“Probably,” he said, his own laughter dimming, “but there’s no way in hell Sawyer will report it.”
Sawyer’d always struck me as the kind who was the tattle tale in class growing up. “Why not?”
“Because Holly threatened to tell his parents that little Jude’s his son and then that would turn into a bonafied scandal,” he said, gloating. “A family like the Diamonds can’t afford to take a public hit like that if they hope to keep selling overpriced minivans and shit.”
Holly hadn’t had the chance to tell me, but I’d figured it out. The silent exchange in the hall told me everything I needed to know about who fathered little Jude. “You two had this all planned out.”
He answered with a half-hearted shrug.
“How are you?” he asked, covering my hand with his.
“After almost being forced to have sex with my boyfriend? Or after finding out said former boyfriend is not only an ass, but a dead beat dad? Or after finding out I’d been all wrong about you and you didn’t speak up to tell me otherwise?” I wanted to blame someone else, or circumstance at the least, but the only person to point my judgey little finger at was myself.
“How are you feeling about all of it?” he asked, his voice gentle, such a contrast to what I knew he was capable of. “Give me a median score.”
“I feel like shit,” I answered, and then I looked over at him. I didn’t know if it was just for tonight, or just as a friend who had my back, or as just a bit more than what he’d been to me these past six months, but he was here. “And I’m kind of great too. How about you?”
He looked at me, his eyes light and warm. “I’m kind of great too.”
Turning off Sunrise Drive, he pulled Taylor’s car up to the cabin. We both stared at the dark structure, waiting. It might be forward, it might be in bad taste, but this woman was grabbing what she wanted and not looking back.
“You want to come in?” I swallowed, expecting an acceptance as much as a rejection.
He paused, his eyes inspecting the place like it was heavily guarded. I knew that guy look of concern.
“My parents aren’t home,” I said. “Mom had some work trip she dragged my dad on.”
Jude opened his door. My heart lurched.
“Your mom got your dad out of the house?” he asked, when I stepped out of the car.
“After lacing his eggs with some hardcore narcotics,” I answered, walking up to where he waited for me.
He was staring at the cabin again, chewing something out on his bottom lip. I also knew that man look: hesitancy.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to,” I said, waiting beside him. “I understand.”
“I want to, Luce,” he said, looking at my bedroom window. “I’m just not sure if I should.”
The man who could kick anyone’s ass with his hands tied behind his back. The same man who didn’t care if all of Southpointe announced to the world he’d slept with every single and some not so single woman in the state. The same man who was deliberating coming inside a parentless house with me.
He was a walking dichotomy.
“Well, I am sure, so my certainty overrules your uncertainty.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him up the stairs. “Right this way.”
He sighed, but let me lead him up the porch and through the front door. The floorboards whined beneath our feet, echoing through the silent home.
“Do you want anything?” I asked, flipping on the kitchen light.
He shook his head, his eyes now joining the hesitant game.
Wanting to get him a floor above the most convenient exit, I pulled him towards the stairs, not about to let go of his hand.