Текст книги "Falling Away"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Her chest rose and fell in silence, up and down, up and down, and the heat of her mouth was right on my lips as she stared at me, shocked.

Her soft lips.

Her fucking soft lips were panting and moist, and I stared at them, wanting to bite. Her hot cunt warmed my stomach, setting me on fire, and I loved how easy her body was to handle. “You’re a pretty little thing, K. C. Carter,” I whispered into her mouth, “and I like looking at you.”

“Oh, G—,” she moaned, but I cut her off, slamming my lips down on hers.

Three fucking years.

Three fucking years of desire for this girl, and I wanted that shit I claimed I didn’t want days ago. I still wanted to pin her against the lockers at school. I still wanted her riding the shit out of me with her tits in my mouth.

And I still wanted to wipe the sneer off her face and see her smile.

K.C.’s full lips moved against mine, kissing me back, and while her mouth felt soft and moved fluidly like water, it also nipped and nibbled, bit and sucked.

She was good, and I gripped her ass in both hands, pressing her into my body so hard I could feel her heat through her clothes.

Her hands pressed into my chest again, and chills fanned against my skin as she pulled away. “Stop,” she gasped.

Fuck no.

I gritted my teeth and slammed my ass down in the desk chair with her straddling me. Grabbing her wrists, I held them behind her back and jerked her chest into mine, forcing her fierce green eyes down on me.

“Say it,” I ordered.

Her teeth were bared. “No.”

Tough little shit.

I smiled, my lips threatening hers. “Your breath is shaking. You’re scared to look at me.” I sucked in air through my teeth. “And I know you feel me between your legs, don’t you?”

Her eyebrows arched together, making her look even more vulnerable.

I jerked her into me again. “Don’t you?”

And then she looked down, nodding quickly.

I swallowed, licking my dry lips. Old K.C. would never have been that brave.

She raised her timid eyes, speaking low and husky. “I liked your mouth on me in the weight room. And in the car.”

My fucking head was floating, and I couldn’t remember when I had wanted something so badly. Releasing her arms, I brought her hands in between us and then cupped her cheek, trying to get her to look at me.

My dick wanted me to bend her over every desk in this room, but my head liked her in my lap. I wanted her to be comfortable, so I let her ease into me.

Her throat moved up and down, and I saw that she was rubbing her thumb over the scar on her wrist.

“You think I tried to kill myself, don’t you?” she asked, and I blinked. She’d changed the subject pretty damn fast.

“You noticed the scar at some point and assumed.” Her eyes met mine, and she lifted her chin. “Well, I didn’t, okay? I wouldn’t try to hurt myself.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. I had definitely referred to her wrist the other night when I said she’d been desperate to get out of her own skin, and even though I had no idea why she was bringing that up now, I sat back and let her talk.

“How did it happen?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t that. I hate when people make assumptions about me.”

I held her thighs. “Okay. Tell me what K.C. stands for, then.”

She smiled, gesturing around the room. “I’m sure you have the capability to figure that out, don’t you, Jax?”

Moving my hands up to her hips, I gripped her tight and eased her into me. Nipping at her lips in short, soft kisses, I glided my tongue along her top lip. “Tell me,” I whispered, hearing her breath quicken again. “Or I’m going to lay you on my bed.” I dug my fingers into her skin. “And eat your pussy so hard the whole damn house will hear you screaming.”

I kissed through her excited little breaths.

“Katherina Chase.” She pulled back, breathing hard. “It was my sister’s name.”

“Why do you have your sister’s initials?” I asked quickly, trying to take my mind off her hands on my stomach.

“Because,” she started, looking as if she didn’t know where to begin. “Because she’s dead.”

I leveled my gaze on her, waiting, even though her weight on my cock was getting me so hard I could barely pay attention.

She swallowed, meeting my eyes. “My sister died before I was born. I was conceived shortly after. From what I remember, things seemed fine for a while, but then when I was four my dad was sent away to a hospital. A mental hospital.”

I ran my hands down her thighs and up again, letting her know that I was listening. Truth was I cared more that she was opening up than about what she was telling me.

I already knew it all anyway.

She continued. “He’d been battling with coming to terms with my sister’s death, and he finally started to lose his grip. He stayed in there for years. Winter of senior year, I went to visit him the same way I did every month. He freaked out, grabbed a pair of scissors, and slashed me.” She ran her thumb down the long, diagonal scar on the inside of her wrist.

I stilled. “Why?” I asked, not remembering her wearing any bandages then. But it was winter, so long sleeves would’ve covered up the injury.

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

I sat up straight, pulling her closer to me. “So, why do you go by your sister’s initials?”

“Well, that’s how we knew my dad was wigging out.” She nodded. “He started calling me K.C., thinking I was my sister. We tried to correct him, but it was more trouble than it was worth. So my mother called me K.C. in his presence to avoid his outbursts.”

Fucking four-year-old little girl having to go through that. She must’ve been so confused.

“And then so did the rest of the family,” she continued. “And eventually it started happening at home as well. My father would get a little better, come home for short spells, and we’d carry on the charade there. The practice eventually just became habit.”

I ground my teeth together.

K. C. Carter was a dead little girl, and the woman in my lap was still living that lie. It pissed me off. She could’ve been someone different. Someone who knew herself and didn’t follow what her boyfriend or her parents wanted. Instead K.C. was fearful, timid, and unsure. Until recently, anyway.

“What’s your real name?” I pressed.

She grinned. “You’re going to laugh.”

The corner of my lips tipped up. “I won’t ever laugh at you,” I assured her. “Ever again, I mean.”

She rolled her eyes and then let out a tired sigh. “Juliet.” She winced, looking at me through embarrassed eyes. “Juliet Adrian Carter. My father liked Shakespeare, so he named my sister after the heroine in The Taming of the Shrew and me after … well, you know.”

I dipped my head into her neck. “Juliet.”

I felt her body shake with a shiver, and I threaded my fingers into her hair, nibbling her skin and eating up her scent.

“Jax, I can’t,” she breathed, placing her hands on my chest. “I … ,” she stammered, “I don’t exactly dislike you anymore, but this isn’t a good idea. As much as I’d like to give in, I can’t be that girl.”

“What girl?”

She stared at me. “A one-night stand.”

My fists tightened around her shirt. So that was what she thought I wanted?

My voice hardened. “What makes you think you’d be a one-night stand?”

“Because you’re Jared Trent’s brother. Because you’re young. Why would you want more?” she asked, her tone light. “I’m not trying to be prissy, okay? You get to me. I like the way you feel. I’m just not ready for this.” Her lips pursed, and she started to rise, but I pulled her back down.

“Ready for what?” I bit out, getting seriously fucking annoyed at her assumptions and the fact that she compared me to Jared. Two minutes ago she’d had her arms and legs wrapped around me.

Her eyebrows shot up, challenging me. “This,” she spat out, and dug into my pocket, pulling out my knife. “It’s been digging into the back of my thigh since I sat down. Why do you have so many computers? Why do the cops let you get away with anything? What do you do to make a living? And why do you carry a knife, Jax?”

My chest filled with delight at her anger. She was getting ballsier by the minute.

I shot her a smirk. “Because it’s quiet.”

And I almost laughed at her arched eyebrow. She was asking why I carried a knife, and I just answered why I carried a knife instead of a gun.

She averted her eyes, but I caught the annoyed expression as she raised the knife up to her face, studying it. She hit the button, and the blade shot out right between us.

I had only a moment to wonder what the hell she was doing before I reared back, seeing her jab the knife into my space.

“You think you scare me, don’t you?” she taunted, holding the blade to my neck, playing with me.

I sucked in a few quick breaths and let out a startled laugh as my heart slammed against my ribs. Well, this was new.

I swallowed, meeting her triumphant little smile and leaning into the blade, feeling the sharp, cool steel bite into my neck. “You want to play? You don’t know how to play my games, Juliet.”

And I snatched the knife out of her scared hand and brought it down to the hem of her shirt, slicing it up the middle.

“Jax!” she screamed, fumbling with her now useless T-shirt as I threw the blade onto the floor. “What are you doing?”

Grabbing her around the waist, I stood up, whipped her around, and planted her in front of the window looking down onto the backyard full of partiers.

I wrapped my arms around her shaking body and growled into her ear from behind her, “God, Juliet. You think I just wanna fuck? You think I wanna keep myself hidden and mysterious, because it’s my play to get women into bed? Huh?” I pressed. “No, baby. I could fuck ten different girls tonight if I wanted to. I don’t want to do that.”

Her chest shook, and she squirmed against me, probably scared that we could be seen out the window.

“So, what do you want?” she cried. “If not a one-night stand?”

I closed my burning eyes, and buried my lips in her hair. “I want to terrorize you,” I confessed. “I want to cut you without drawing blood. I want to break you.” I pulled her into me. “And then I want to fuck you.”

From the moment I laid eyes on her, I had wanted to break her out of her shell. I wanted to see her undone, and I wanted to take her over. For how long, I didn’t know, but I knew it would be for more than one night.

I also knew it wouldn’t be forever.

Her breathing slowed, and she stilled, staring out the window. I straightened behind her and peeled off the T-shirt she was holding closed.

“Jax,” she whimpered, turning her face to me. “They can see us.”

Reaching around, I turned her chin back toward the window. “They can’t see you. The window’s tinted.” The shirt, sliced up the front, fell down her arms and spilled to the floor. “But you can see them, Juliet,” I pointed out, gently running my hands up her bare arms. “They drink. They laugh. They have meaningless conversations about what’s trending on Twitter.” I paused and dug my fingers into her hips, pulling her ass into me and breathing into her ear, “And I’m so jacked up I want you so bad.”

My cock grew and swelled with the feel of her. The silk of her skin in my hands, the shape of her ass pressed to my cock, and the reflection of her hands covering her tits. She was so sweet and timid.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a virgin.

And she couldn’t take it any more than I could. Dropping her hands, she turned her head to nuzzle into my chest, and I was tempted to slice off her shorts, too.

But I didn’t. Instead I skimmed down her tight stomach and slid my hand into her bottoms, finding her hot, wet center.

I closed my eyes. She was fucking soaked. Her panties were wet, too. How long had she been like this? Since we got into the room?

Swirling my fingers around, I rubbed over her clit, feeling her body squirm against mine.

Slipping a finger inside her folds, I rubbed her small entrance in circles, alternating between that and massaging her clit.

“Jax,” she gasped, crashing the palms of her hands against the glass and breathing hard. She leaned forward, and I bit down, clenching my jaw with the pressure in my jeans as she stuck her hips back at me, inviting me in.

Jesus. “That’s it,” I encouraged, taking my hand out of the front of her shorts and slipping in at the back instead.

I rubbed her pussy, stroking my hand forward and backward, forward and backward, my groans mixing with hers.

So wet. And so smooth.

She was clean-shaven. Or maybe waxed, because she was softer than any other girl I’d ever touched. And with her wetness it was as if my finger was touching silk.

But if she’d broken up with her asswipe boyfriend more than two weeks ago, why was she still keeping that area waxed? I didn’t like the idea that she might be hooking up with someone else at all.

Arching her back, she moaned, “Yes.”

And I closed my eyes as I bent down to kiss her naked back, my teeth grazing her skin. Reaching around with my other hand, I cupped and massaged her breasts, smiling through my kisses as she squirmed against me. I rolled her clit between my fingers, and her back jerked against my mouth.

“Fuck, Juliet,” I breathed out. “No fucking way would you be a one-night stand.”

Circling my arm around her, I pulled her back up against my chest and growled into her ear, “I’d need a lot more than one night to do everything I want to do to you.”

I stuck my middle finger into her wet heat and held her tight as she gasped in sweet pain. Withdrawing it, I swirled her come over her clit and then dived back into her again, plunging the tip of my finger inside her.

Damn, she was tight. My finger wouldn’t slide out easily, and the friction of her folds and skin along with her wetness had my dick jerking with need. I reached down and adjusted myself, feeling too fucking uncomfortable right now. She had to be able to feel me pressed against her back.

But I couldn’t take her to bed now. Not with my house full of people.

We faced the window and saw everyone milling about the party, and it was such a turn-on to have Juliet reach behind and snake an arm around my neck and move her ass into my hand. She wanted this. She might even let me fuck her right now, but I couldn’t take the chance. Not yet.

It would be in a bed. And in a fucking empty house where she could make as much noise as she wanted. Not tonight, but it was definitely going to be soon. Real fucking soon.

My hand fell to her tit, and I continued pumping her pussy with my finger faster and faster.

“Jax,” she whimpered. “Jax, please. I can’t.”

I turned her around and pushed my body into hers against the wall perpendicular to the window. “Yes, you can,” I said, staring into her eyes and moving my hand to the front, continuing to finger her.

I could feel her nipples pressing through my T-shirt, and I looked down to admire her. Everything below my stomach swirled in a storm of raw energy.

Damn, she was nice to look at. Her breasts were slightly bigger than average, and on her frame they were probably bigger than they should be.

“No.” She shook her head, her eyes fluttering with what my finger was doing. “I can’t. I can never come, Jax. Not with someone else.”

I plastered my body to hers, forcing her mouth up to mine as I whispered against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about your asshole ex. You hear me?” And then I narrowed my eyes, looking down on her. “Wait. What do you mean ‘someone else’? You can come by yourself. Is that what you meant?”

Oh, Jesus. Add that to the list of things I wanted her to do when we were in the bedroom.

She looked away out the window, but she didn’t stop fucking my hand.

“Look at me.” I pulled her head back to face me. “What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

Her eyes fell to the side, out the window again, and I could tell she was still loving the feel of my finger in her. She watched the people below us and grabbed my waist, continuing to grind into me.

“You like having them right there, don’t you?” I asked, following her gaze outside. “It’s okay, you know? There are no rules, Juliet. A pane of glass separates you from them seeing everything. It’s okay if that gets you off. Now tell me, what do you think about when you finger yourself?”

Her eyes shot to mine. “Jax.” She shook her head. “I …”

“Say it.” My lips tightened. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

“I think about you,” she rushed out, breathless. “I think about if I had let you give me a ride home two years ago, but you didn’t take me home.”

I closed my eyes, letting my forehead fall into the wall by her head.

“Jesus, keep going,” I begged, rubbing her clit. “I want to see if your fantasy matches mine.”

I’d thought about that night a lot over the years. I’d been disappointed when she wouldn’t let me drive her home, and I definitely hadn’t gone back to finish what I’d started with the two girls. I’d let them crash, and I went to shower and jerk off to the fantasy of K.C. peeling off that white summer dress in the backseat of my car.

I circled the hard nub of her clit faster and faster, feeling the pulse tap, tap, tap against my fingertips.

“You told me that you were going to kiss me,” she started. “Just one time before I left for college, and I wanted you to,” she whispered, her breaths shaky as I slid my finger into her pussy and came out to work her clit. “I wanted it so bad,” she continued. “But I couldn’t talk. The next thing I knew you took me to the falls. And you kissed me. Between my thighs.”

Fucking hell.

Her voice grew stronger, bolder. “You lifted up my dress, Jax. And your tongue licked me up and down,” she whimpered, sucking in a breath. “And I held your head there, because I didn’t want you to stop.”

She cried out and I knew she was coming. Her hips thrust into my hand, and she moved her hands up to my shoulders, digging her nails in.

I put my lips against her hot cheek. “And then what did I do to you?”

She let her head fall back as she moaned. “You turned me over the hood of the car onto my stomach,” she cried, “you yanked up my dress, and then you fucked me.”

Her mouth fell open, her eyes squeezed shut, and she cried out, moaning and gasping. I plunged my finger back inside her, feeling her body tighten and release around me, throbbing her quick pulse on my finger.

“Jesus,” I groaned, kissing her forehead and absorbing her body shuddering and shaking.

Her head fell into my chest, and I held her as her breathing slowed down.

“Jax, I—” She sounded nervous.

“Shh. Relax,” I said, even though my heart was still pounding like crazy, and my dick still hadn’t come down.

I pulled my shirt over my head and slipped it onto her, since her shirt was useless now. Sliding her limp arms in, she didn’t protest when I picked her up and carried her into my room.

“No more fun tonight.” I tried to keep my voice gentle, but they were the hardest words I’d ever had to utter. I wanted to strip, crawl under the sheets with her, mold my body to hers, and bury myself deep in her warmth all night.

“I don’t prey on girls that just ended five-year relationships, okay?” I said. “You’ve got time before I really start trying. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Great,” she mumbled, sounding sarcastic but cute.

Laying her down, I shut off the light and kissed her lips. “Go to sleep. I just have some things to take care of, but I’ll be back up soon.”

Her eyes closed, and the two ever-present little wrinkles between her eyebrows disappeared as I watched her drift away.

“Jax!”

Someone pounded on my door, causing me to jerk. “Jax, you in there?”

CHAPTER 10

JULIET

I shot up in bed, fisting the sheet, as Jax strode for the door, whipping it open.

Looking over, I saw a young guy, nicely styled black hair, tattoos scaling down both arms, with several facial piercings. He peered around Jax, taking notice of me, and I immediately pulled the sheet up, embarrassed. I was fully clothed, but I was still trying not to be “that girl.”

Yeah, I needed to get over that.

“A couple of the guys have someone cornered downstairs,” he said to Jax. “Apparently someone saw him putting something in a girl’s drink. You want to deal with this?” he asked Jax, and then looked at me again. “Or you want us to handle it?”

Meaning Jax looked busy.

This guy wasn’t being snide or suggestive. He was asking Jax as though looking for orders. I turned away, shaking my head.

“Juliet, stay here,” Jax commanded, and I jerked my stunned gaze over to him just as he slammed the door shut.

Um, what? My eyes burned like light sabers at the closed door, and I clenched the black sheet. Was he serious?

Yeah. No. I wasn’t following orders like Jaxon Trent’s latest toy.

Throwing off the covers, I went to the mirror and smoothed my messy hair, pushing away the delicious burn of him pulling it earlier. Then I tucked in the front and back hem of his T-shirt so it wouldn’t make me look as though I had nothing on underneath. It wasn’t particularly baggy, but it was long as hell.

I turned to leave but stopped, noticing two pictures peeking out from underneath a wooden box on top of his dresser. I reached over and pulled them up, studying the women in the images. One picture was old, an actual photograph of a girl—maybe sixteen or seventeen—wearing a defiant look on her face and a Cure T-shirt. Next to her sat an older guy—early twenties—with a cigarette in his hand. He had Jax’s eyes.

The second photo was a rack card, advertising a club in Chicago that held some kind of show. The woman in the images was dark and beautiful, dressed in a black corset and top hat. She was hanging in the air above a full crowd, but I couldn’t tell what was holding her up.

I looked between the two pictures, seeing the resemblance between the women.

I quickly stuffed the photos back where I found them and walked for the door.

Stepping out of the room, I turned the corner and descended the stairs. The party was still going strong—it was only a little after midnight after all—but the crowd had thinned. I didn’t see Shane, Madoc, or Fallon anywhere, and I was little pissed off about that. My cousin, at least, should’ve checked in with me before she ditched me.

A few people lingered around the pool table, in the foyer, and I could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Everyone seemed heavily relaxed as they barely noticed me.

Five Finger Death Punch’s “Battle Born” droned out of the speakers, and I walked out the front door in my bare feet, ready to just go home, when I reared back, planting my footstep back where it came from.

Holy shit!

“Jax! Whoo!” someone cheered, and I sucked in air and pinched my eyebrows together in horror.

Jax’s naked back faced me as he hunched on the ground, slamming his fist into some poor guy’s face. Well, not poor guy if he was the one slipping drugs to an unknowing girl, but poor guy because he was obviously down, and Jax wasn’t stopping.

His arm shot back, the muscles in his triceps and back bulged, and his fist hammered down right on the guy’s face. Again and again, and I fought against the pitching sensation in my stomach.

When Jax brought his fist back again, I saw blood, and I raced down to the walkway at the bottom of the steps, thinking it might be his.

Wiping his bloody fist on his jeans, he stepped up, bringing his victim with him by the collar.

I veered around the crowd that had gathered and hugged myself against a chill that didn’t come from the air. Jax dug in the guy’s pocket, bringing out a few small vials of liquid, and handed them to the same guy who’d come to Jax’s room.

The dealer wobbled back and forth, blood dripping down his lips and chin, and Jax hovered down on him, damn near pressing the guy into the ground with the anger in his eyes. His lips moved, and he whispered something in the dealer’s face, but I couldn’t hear it. I doubted anyone could, and I knew there was a reason for that.

People shouted threats they never intended to keep. Others whispered threats they didn’t want witnesses to hear.

Dropping his hands, Jax talked to Tattoo Guy while everyone started to disperse. Then he turned around and locked eyes with me.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” His voice was quiet but hard and annoyed.

I dropped my eyes, trying not to see all the blood. “I think I’ll go home. I’m not even sure I want to know you right now.”

Some girls may want a tough guy. An alpha dog who pushes them around. Someone who beats up drug dealers on their front lawn. It struck me that I’d simply like someone who didn’t attract drug dealers in the first place.

“You already know me. Intimately.” He smirked.

Several bystanders laughed, and I glared at Jax.

“That doesn’t mean you know me,” I bit out.

He stepped into my face. “And witnessing me pummel a nineteen-year-old guy who gave a sixteen-year-old girl GHB so he could do who knows what to her body doesn’t mean you know me, either, K. C. Carter.” He drawled out my sister’s name, trying to piss me off. “You can leave now.”

“Ohs” filled the air around me, and I stared at Jax as I ran my tongue along the back of my teeth, fuming.

I could say it was the fight that had pissed me off. Or I could say it was the plethora of questions without answers that had made the bug crawl up my butt.

But it wasn’t either one.

If he had come up to me and put his arms around me, looking at me as if I were the Christmas present he’d been waiting for as he had done in that room, I would’ve folded. I wouldn’t have cared that he got into fights or that he was a complete mystery.

What shut me down was the fact that I was disposable to him. Just like to my mother. To Liam. To most people who looked through me as if I were a piece of glass.

Fuck him.

I walked past him, not saying a word as I headed toward Tate’s house.

“Are you okay?” Fallon rushed up and touched my shoulder. “I just came out and caught the tail end of that. Anything I can do?”

I nodded, still walking. “Yeah. Get Madoc’s car keys, and get Shane. We’re going on a midnight run.”

Homicides occur more frequently during the summer. Little-known fact, but it’s true.

The irritation of the heat drives people to lose their cool—no pun intended—and they end up reacting in ways they might not in more temperate conditions. Sunshine blinds you, sweat trickles down your back, and your body heat rises, making you uncomfortable. Given the right circumstance—the right person getting in your face—your brain is pushed beyond the breaking point, and you snap.

All you want is to feel better, and all it takes is a twist of the screw to drive you over the edge.

Well, all I wanted was to feel.

Not feel better or feel good. Just feel something. And while I definitely wasn’t itching to kill anyone, I could understand how a little thing like the weather drove people to do things that were out of character.

It might’ve been Jax who got my blood pumping again, or it might have been being on my own, without my mother or Liam. All I knew was that something was twisting my brain tighter and tighter, and I couldn’t not react anymore. Almost as if it was all out of my control.

“How many times have you driven a stick?” Fallon asked beside me as we both bobbed forward in Madoc’s car.

I licked my lips, tasting the sweat on my upper lip and Jaxon Trent still in my mouth. My stomach growled again, but I ignored it, punching into fourth gear.

“Shut it,” I warned, joking. “I’m still learning.”

“Madoc’s going to kill me,” she complained, and I saw her cradle her forehead in her hand out of the corner of my eye. “You should’ve let me drive, K.C.”

“Leave her alone, Fal,” Shane piped up from the backseat as I rounded onto my street. “And her name’s Juliet.”

I glanced at Fallon, who looked over at me, her light brown hair fanning around her eyes. “Juliet?”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “No jokes,” I ordered. “It’s my real name.”

“Why don’t you go by it?” Fallon asked.

A smile played at the corners of my lips. “I do now.”

Pressing in the clutch and downshifting, I cruised to an easy stop in front of my—my mother’s—brick Colonial. Looking past Fallon out the window, I found it hard to believe I was only here this afternoon.

“So, what’s the plan?” Shane asked.

“You don’t have to come in,” I explained. It was too much to ask them to get involved with this. “I just need to get my journals out of my room. It’s more than I can carry in one trip. If you’re willing, I thought we could all do it quickly,” I said as more of an apology but quickly added, “But you definitely don’t have to. My mother will be a pain the ass.”

“Ooooh.” Fallon rubbed her hands together, smiling. “Pain-in-the-ass moms. My specialty.”

“I’m down.” Shane leaned over the seat, looking at me. “Let’s do this.”

I inhaled a deep breath and tucked my chin down to calm my nervousness. Climbing out of the car, I stared at the dark house as I waited for Fallon and Shane to follow me out and then started around the car toward the front lawn. I smiled to myself, kind of liking the feeling of them behind me. Kind of as though they’d catch me if I fell.

It reminded me of Tate, and I wished she was here.

“How’s your dad doing?” Tate asks me as we walk home from school.

I shrug, holding on to my backpack straps. “The same. Sometimes he remembers me. Sometimes he doesn’t.”

It’s Monday afternoon, and we’ve just finished our last class, freshman PE. And thank goodness for that! If I had PE earlier in the day, my mother just might show up to ensure that I showered, and then she’d bring me a freshly pressed set of clothes. At least this way, I can just come straight home, shower, and never have my friends find out what a spaz my mom is.

“It’s hard to think of you as Juliet,” Tate teases. I’d only just told her about my dad and the deal with my name a week ago.

“Just stick with K.C.,” I tell her. “It’s what I’m used to.”

“Out of the way!” someone growls, and we both jump, huddling together, as Jared Trent zooms past on his dirt bike. He stands up, pedaling and scowling back at Tate. His deep brown hair blows in his eyes, but you can still see the hatred blazing out of them.

“Jared Trent!” I belt out. “You’re so dumb you’d trip over a cordless phone!”

I hear Tate snort, but then she chides, “Don’t piss him off. He takes it out on me.” But then her eyes dart up. “Oh, crap.”