Текст книги "Ruin"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Chapter Seven

Note to self, when a girl’s smile makes you forget your own name — you’re in some deep shit.

Weston

“This way.” I grabbed her hand and led her down the street. “So, tell me about yourself, Kiersten.” Lame. My first question was so unoriginal I wanted to punch myself. That was what freshman orientation did to a person.

“I’m eighteen.”

“No, I didn’t—” I turned and found myself under the full force of her green eyes penetrating mine. “That is, yes, I’m glad you’re over eighteen, I don’t want to get in trouble for holding your hand or anything.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t strike me as the type of guy who just holds hands.”

“You’re right.” I exhaled. “But I’m a fan of hands, or maybe it’s just yours, Lamb.” It was true. I liked her hands. Everything about her screamed innocence. I almost felt bad for corrupting her, for wanting her. Almost being the key word.

“And there’s the nickname.”

”There it is,” I agreed, then squeezed her hand more. We walked across the lawn and down to the sidewalk in silence. As we passed a few cars, the silence stretched out even further, then finally, beneath the second street lamp, she stopped, tugging her hand back.

“Look…” She shifted nervously from foot to foot, her innocent eyes darted from the ground to my face. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here. I appreciate your help and stuff today, but…”

Amused, I raised my eyebrows. “But?”

“I’m not like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“That.” Her cheeks were stained pink. “I don’t hook up with guys.”

“Oh, that.” I grinned at her embarrassment. “I don’t either.”

“Huh?”

“Hook up with guys. I’m not like that. So now that we’ve had that particular conversation, we can be friends.” I reached for her hand again.

“I, uh—” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, because one of my teammates had the worst timing in the universe and just happened to drive by.

“Michels!” he shouted out his window. “Party at Kappa tonight!” He honked his horn and peeled out.

“Friends?” she asked.

“Worse.” I chuckled. “Teammates.” I stopped walking and touched her arm lightly. “You want to go to a different party?”

“I should probably get back—”

“Come.” I pulled her closer to me. “Just for a few minutes. I’ll introduce you to some upperclassmen, get you some milk, and have you tucked into your bed safely by midnight.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Fine, I’ll have you tucked in alone. As in, without me.”

Kiersten looked down the street. “Fine. Thirty minutes and don’t think I won’t use the rape whistle!”

“Please,” I whispered. “Then when you return it I’ll know exactly what it feels to have your lips blowing across mine.”

She flinched. “You can’t say things like that to me.”

“Why?” I tilted her chin toward my face. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Fine.” I sighed.“I’ll just think them and look longingly in your direction every few minutes, sound good?”

She laughed. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Whistles.” I nodded. “And redheads.” I reached for her hand again. “Virgins.” Interesting, her blush deepened as her hand clenched mine tighter. I was good at reading people and I’d bet my entire fortune she’d never even been kissed. It was why it made her uncomfortable. “Virgin lamb…” I sighed. “I may just sacrifice you on the altar.”

“I’d rather not be sacrificed.”

“You never know.” I gave her a cocky grin, “You may like it.”

“You never know.” She sighed dreamily. “I may stab you.”

“Fair.” I chuckled. “Now, let’s go. People to see, milk to drink, freshmen to corrupt.”

Chapter Eight

Things are never as they seem – ever.

Kiersten

I’d never been to a frat house. My only experience in even knowing what they looked like could be traced to the movies. You know, guys partying, people drinking, cups littering the lawn.

What I didn’t expect was actual order.

The music was loud, but the spread was insane.

Alcohol was everywhere, food was everywhere, people were dressed like movie stars, and every single guy looked like he’d just stepped from a magazine.

“Guys,” Weston put his hands on my shoulders and urged me forward, “This is Kiersten.”

“Hey,” a few of them mumbled in greeting and smiled. They didn’t look like your typical jocks. In fact, most of them were sipping their drinks and discussing football, while the girls around them were happily chatting about classes.

“Oh…” Weston tugged my hand. “And those guys over there who just walked in…” He pointed in the direction of two pretty big guys. One had black-rimmed glasses and a goatee, the other was at least six-foot-seven and lanky. Both appeared to be in their mid-thirties. “They work for me. Or my dad. However you look at it. You have any issues? Anyone bothers you here? You run towards them with the whistle, got it?”

“Uh, sure, but why would anyone bother me?”

Someone chuckled behind me. “Fresh meat.”

“Need I say more?” Weston groaned. “Meet Drake.”

“Hi, Drake.” I swallowed, trying really hard to not meet his predatory gaze. He had dark brown eyes and sandy blond hair.

He nodded. “‘Sup.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

Weston introduced me to tons of people, none of whom really cared who or what I was. Mainly they were polite, but that was it. After a few more introductions, he took me into the kitchen. “Lets’ get you a drink.”

“Oh, I’ve never drank before.” I held up my hands.

“I know.” Weston chuckled. “Which is why you and I are on a mission of sorts. First frat party, first drink, first time with a senior—”

“I’m good.” I shook my head at the cup he held out to me.

“Not yet you’re not. One sip, and then I can die happy.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, as he held out the cup and waited.

“Ugh, peer pressure. You know, you’re the worst RA I’ve ever met, right?”

He shrugged.

The liquid sloshed in the cup. It was dark and smelled like rotten bananas. “What is this?”

“Beer. One sip. Go.”

I plugged my nose. He laughed, but I didn’t care. It tasted like bitter bananas and mold, and after one sip, I was done. I coughed and gave him back the cup.

“See?” His smile was contagious. “Was that so hard?”

“It was awful!” I smacked him on the arm.

“What did I tell you? No whistle! See, I’m safe, promise.” He laughed and then stumbled a bit on his feet. With a curse he grabbed the counter.

“Are you okay?” I rushed to Weston’s side.

He jerked away from me and blinked a few times. “Yeah, fine. I just… I need to go grab something from James. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t follow anyone upstairs and no drinking anything, not even water.”

“Yes sir.” I saluted, trying to make him laugh. Instead, he looked like he was going to puke as he walked slowly out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

“Interesting,” a female voice said a few minutes later. “You his new project?”

I turned around. “Project?”

The girl was gorgeous. Her legs went on forever, she had a tight white dress on, and her black hair hung in loose curls around her chest. “Yup, project.” She grabbed a cup of beer and drank. “He picks a freshman every year.”

“He does?” Dread filled my stomach.

“What can I say? He gets bored easy. Believe me, by Christmas he’ll have forgotten your name and moved on to the next girl. Let me guess, small town? Innocent? Everything a powerful guy like Wes is attracted to, but nothing he would actually go home to if you get my meaning. He saves as many as he can, and then parties with the ones who actually give a shit about him and his life. So enjoy it while you can. I know I did.” She took another long sip and laughed just as Weston walked back into the room.

The minute his eyes fell on the girl I could have sworn he snarled. “What. The. Hell. What are you doing here, Lorelei?”

“I was invited,” she purred. “You should be happy to see me. It’s good press. You and I talking like nothing happened.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “But it did.”

“Says who?” She threw her head back and laughed. “I was just getting to know your new little friend here.”

“And we were just leaving.” Weston grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him.

“Remember what I said, freshman.” Lorelei eyed me one last time and waltzed out of the room. I exhaled and followed Weston as he steered me out of the house. The two guys he’d pointed out earlier trailed us a few hundred feet behind as we walked down the same street we’d just come up.

“I know you don’t know me.” Weston’s words were clipped as if all his joy had just been sucked out of him. “But you can’t trust anything that girl says. She’s trouble. Let’s just put it that way. She’s not even supposed to be within ten miles of me, let alone ten feet.”

“Is she a student here?”

“Nah.” He laughed without humor. “Graduated a year ago. Our parents were close.”

“Were?”

“Yeah.” His head jerked down as he cursed and bit down on his lip. “Until everything went down last year. They still think I did it. Doesn’t help that Laurali’s a struggling actress. The one and only time I ever saw her succeed in selling a part was when she was trying to put me in jail for something I didn’t even do.”

“I’m sorry.” My heart clenched in my chest.

Weston sighed. “Don’t be. What’s done is done, right?”

“Right,” I murmured.

“I’m not feeling very well.” He stumbled a bit. “I think I may be catching something, so I’m going to walk you nicely to your room and then say goodnight.”

“Have it all planned out, do ya?” I teased.

He actually laughed. Wow, his face lit up when he was happy. I wanted to be the reason he laughed even though I knew it was ridiculous. I hardly knew the guy and what I did know told me he probably wouldn’t be the best person for me to hang out with.

“Kiersten?”

“Yeah?” The party was still raging by the time we walked into the building and got on the elevator.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” My breathing seemed erratic as his eyes focused on my lips for a few seconds before looking back toward the elevator doors.

“For believing me.”

I reached for his hand. What was I doing? I clenched his fingers in mine. “Until you give me a reason not to trust you, I’ll always believe you. It’s what people do.”

“Blindly trust complete strangers?” His focus was elsewhere. His eyes had glazed over and he looked really pale.

“Nah.” We walked down the hall to my room. “Make friends and believe them when they tell the truth.”

“Kiersten…” Voice gruff, he leaned against my door. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Oh.” I hated how my stomach dropped to my knees, like he’d just told me he hated Christmas and wanted to burn every last romance book on my Kindle.

“More,” he whispered, and this time I could feel the heat from his lips on my ear as he talked. “With you, I think I’ll always want more. But—” He sighed and held out his hand. “I’ll settle for friends, that is, if the offer still stands.”

Fingers tingling, I reached for it and shook. His smile lit up my world. It shattered my previous existence, and again the same eerie feeling washed over me. Like I was running out of time, or maybe like the darkness was coming again. I tried to pull free but he held me there.

I hated that feeling of losing control. Usually the meds helped, but right then it was like his eyes were asking me to jump into the blackness with him and I wasn’t so sure I was ready for that.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, taking a piece of my hair from the ponytail and examining it.

“What is?”

“Your first day of class.” A sad smile crossed his face. “What else would I be talking about?”

“Oh, you know… life,” I joked, trying to get his other smile back.

“Right.” His smile faded as he swallowed hard. “Well, sweet dreams, Kiersten. Think of me.”

“And your eight pack?” I offered.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Wow, I needed that. Thanks. Friend.”

“Anytime…” I fought to keep myself from touching him “Friend.”

“I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had.” He didn’t move. Instead he watched me, and his eyes seemed to take in every detail about me as if I was going to disappear or something.

“That’s a good thing right?”

“I wish I knew.” He pointed down the hall. “My room beckons me, as does a five a.m. practice. Night.”

Chapter Nine

A gift? A curse? Who knew… but time was running out.

Weston

I groaned over the toilet, losing all my breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the protein shake I’d just choked down. I hated throwing up. It made me feel like a little kid all over again. My mom had always been there when I was sick.

Now it was just my dad.

And he sent people to do his dirty work. Not that he didn’t love me, he just had bigger things to deal with than his son tossing up his cookies. I was glad I was sick all night. It meant I was getting it out of my system before practice. Even on my worst day, I was still better than half the guys out there.

I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard, especially after the new round of meds, but I’d wanted to help Kiersten. Her innocence called to me, just like her darkness. Damn, but I could almost see the dark cloud billowing over her head. I’d lived through that and more. Sometimes her smile was fake, other times she was so damn concerned with what others thought about her that I wanted to shake her. Maybe from the outside it didn’t appear that way, but her eyes, the way they would focus on everything almost as if taking too long to stare at something might bring attention to her. It was weird, seeing a girl who physically screamed look at me, cower into herself.

Friends? Hell no. I was probably the worst idea for her, the worst friend in the entire universe. I’d end up breaking her heart regardless. So I knew I may as well make it as painless as possible. Since I was clearly lacking in the self control department, I’d be the best damn friend she ever had. I just couldn’t attach myself romantically. I wouldn’t do that to her. After all, she had a full happy four years of school left, whereas I was done in a few months.

I threw on my practice jersey and grabbed my keys. I hated walking to practice. It was wet in the mornings; the university was right on the Pacific Ocean, meaning it was always cold this early.

With a sigh, I made a stop at Kiersten’s dorm room and slid a note under her door.

“And so begins the friendship,” I whispered. Maybe I could help her crawl out of that damn cocoon. Maybe it would be enough to leave a smile on my face when I left for good.

Chapter Ten

Maybe the darkness wasn’t closing in like I first assumed. Maybe, I just invited it without knowing?

Kiersten

The alarm jolted me awake. The first thing I realized was that my nightmares hadn’t been as terrible last night. In fact, I didn’t wake up screaming. I wanted to jump into the air and thank God. The medication had been giving me nightmares for months now, but it was worth it if it helped me power through the day.

I turned off the alarm on my phone and shuffled to the door. I was thankful that I had been put in a suite with Lisa. We shared a kitchen and living room with two other girls who were pre-med. Which meant it was like living alone. They didn’t watch TV, they apparently didn’t eat, and when I asked if they were on Facebook I got judgmental looks from both of them.

I yawned and went to start making coffee in the kitchen just as Lisa tumbled out of her room, swearing. “Too early!”

“It’s seven.”

“My point exactly.” She ran her hands through her blond hair and sat at the table. “Where were you last night? I came home and you were already in bed.”

“I was, uh…” I busied my hands pouring the grounds into the filter. “With Weston. He took me to another party and—”

“Whoa!” she croaked. “Another party? Where at?”

“Kappa.” I said.

“NO way!” she screamed. “They have the best parties! Only upperclassmen are invited! Did you meet anyone hot? Were they nice? Did they have drugs? I’ve heard they have drugs. Holy crap, are you going to go back? Should you go back? We need Gabe.”

“You done?”

She inhaled and exhaled twice before nodding. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good.” The coffee started brewing. “Everything seemed normal. It was just a few gorgeous people drinking, eating, and—” I left out the part about Lorelei.

“And?” Lisa scooted closer to the table. “And what? He kissed you? You’re having his love child? He wants to marry you and I get to live above the garage?”

“No.” I laughed. “To all of the above. He wants to be friends.”

“Friends?” She tapped her mouth with her fingertip. “With the hottest guy on campus? Why does that rub me the wrong way?”

“Because you want in his pants.”

Lisa snorted. “Honey, I’d be his pants. That’s how desperate I am. But why friends? Why not more?”

“He’s not into freshmen.” I shrugged.

“Ri-i-i-i-ight.” Lisa nodded. “But he is male and you’re hot. That means one thing.”

“You’re living above his garage?”

“I wish.” She pouted and looked toward the door. “What’s that?”

“The door?” Seriously, did she drink last night?

“Thank you.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Not that.” She pointed at the door. “That.”

A piece of paper was folded on the floor. It had my name on it. Holy crap! My name, in really nice handwriting.

“It’s not like it has anthrax in it.” Lisa bent down and picked it up. “Read it.” She thrust it in my face. “Come on! I’m curious.”

The coffee pot dinged. I snatched the paper and went to pour us both cups of coffee. Once seated, I tore into the note and read.

People don’t write letters anymore… such a shame, don’t you think? Day 1. Your mission, if you choose to accept it: Make two new friends, you know, people other than your roommate and her cousin. I don’t count either. Be sure to smile really big and raise your hand at least once in class. I’ll see you at lunch.

Your friend—Wes.

My smile couldn’t get any bigger if it tried. I re-read the note again and again, each time I read it, my heart pounded harder in my chest. It was the first morning in two years that I wasn’t thinking about my past. In fact, I hadn’t thought once about my parents’ accident. I was too happy, too excited to think about anything but the fact that a guy had written me a letter.

“Well?” Lisa asked. “What’s it say?”

“I’m getting married!”

“WHAT?” She screamed.

“Kidding,” I said, laughing as I held out the note. “Here, it’s from Wes.”

“Oh, so now it’s Wes?” Her eyebrows arched.

“Uh…” I looked away. “I meant Weston.”

“Right,” she grumbled and started reading. Her smile grew just like mine had, and by the time she was done she looked up, tears of excitement in her eyes. “He wrote you a love note!”

“It’s more of an instruction card.” I waved her off. “Clearly he’s trying to push me out of my shell.”

“Well, you are kind of like a hermit. And you did grow up in—” She paused “What’s the name of that rock you lived under? The one with one store?”

I sighed. “Bickelton.”

“Right. There.” She shook her head. “You need to get out and live. Methinks that Weston Michels thinks so too…”

“But—” I didn’t want to sound lame. Insecurity won over, making my voice shaky. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” She threw the letter onto the table. “You’re beautiful and you sparked his interest. Does there have to be a reason?”

“There’s always a reason,” I explained. “Guys like that don’t just pay attention to girls like me.”

“Girls like you are the reason guys like him exist.” Lisa smiled warmly. “You don’t see yourself how others see you. Maybe he sees more than you do when you look in the mirror. Whatever it is, don’t brush him off. He’s making an effort, and if I were you, I’d say thank you to God in my prayers tonight.”

I smiled. “Maybe I will.”

“Great.” She stood abruptly and stretched. Something glittered beneath her shirt – was that a belly ring? “Now, let’s get ready for our first class!” She did a little dance and ran off to her room, leaving me with my coffee and my note.

Chapter Eleven

Drugs suck. Getting hit by a three hundred pound lineman? Yeah, sucks way harder.

Weston

“Michels!” Coach Jackson yelled. “Where’s your head this morning, huh? Focus!”

Right. Focus. Stop thinking about red hair and mega-watt smiles and what that smile would feel like if it was directed at me again, and that red hair again running through my hands, and—

“Michels!” The football snapped just in time for me to grab it and finish the play. I seriously needed to stop getting so distracted by her. What the hell was wrong with me?

By the time practice finished I had enough bruises to last me a lifetime, not the best sign for a quarterback.

“Where were you today?” Brad asked throwing off his clothes and jumping into the shower.

“Not present,” I grumbled doing the same.

“Right.” He snorted. “Better get present if we want that bowl game this year.”

I hated talking about the future. What was the point anyway? I nodded and gave him a gruff. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Once I was done showering, I went to one of the many school coffee shops and grabbed a protein shake. Two classes and then I could see Kiersten. She would have read my note by now, so she was either pissed or smiling. I hoped she was smiling. In fact, I hoped that when she woke up and read the note, she’d forget all about how to frown.

****

“Lunch.” I pushed a pile of food toward Kiersten and watched for a minute as she examined it with distaste. “You have to eat.”

“Not hungry.” She pushed the tray away and crossed her arms over her stomach.

“Bad first few classes?”

She glared.

I held up my hands. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I can’t.” Her face flushed as she looked around the cafeteria. Most everyone was staring at us as if we’d just announced we were going to adopt one of Brad Pitt’s twenty children.

“I’ll take care of it.” I sighed and sent a quick text to James. He hated covering for me, but at least it got people to stop gawking. I watched him across the cafeteria. He looked at his phone, scowled, and then threw his newspaper onto the table. In an instant he was walking toward us, after two or three strides he collapsed onto the floor.

Everyone gasped.

“Okay, so now they aren’t staring.” I nodded to Kiersten, “What happened in class?”

“Is he all right?” She pointed at James.

“Low blood sugar.” I looked away for a brief moment and cleared my throat. “So class?”

“Should we, like, call someone?” She pulled out her cell. I grabbed her wrist and shook my head. “He’ll be fine in about ten minutes or as long as it takes for you to tell me your story.”

“O-okay.” She kept staring at James but at least she was talking. “I raised my hand in class, but the professor reprimanded me for correcting him.”

I winced.

“And I made two new friends.”

I smiled.

She didn’t.

“Let’s just say they’re a bit more friendly than you.”

I swear I saw two deaths by my hands. “Who were they? Did they touch you? Hurt you? I’ll kill them, seriously. I’ll—” I stood and started frantically looking around the cafeteria for any punk freshman that was staring at her cross-eyed.

“Sit down.” She pulled me to my seat and shook her head. “I told them I had a boyfriend, case closed.”

“I meant friends who were girls.” Blood roared in my ears. “Not guys.”

“Well?” She threw her hands into the air in frustration. “They were the only two people that approached me.”

“I bet they were,” I grumbled.

“Wes?”

She called me Wes.

I could die happy.

Most people called me Wes. I hadn’t told her it was okay. It seemed natural. It’s how I’d signed my note.

I was turning into a chick.

My smile grew as her eyes narrowed.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Just happy.”

“That I failed at your little list?”

“No failure.” I shook my head. “You tried and that’s what counts. You need to get out from underneath the cloud.”

Her nostrils flared as she grabbed her bag and stood. “I gotta go.”

“Sit.”

“No.”

“Sit.” I jerked her down to the seat and softly held her hand in mine. I could feel her pulse in her wrist; it was erratic, angry. “I’m not sorry.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You remind me of my brother.”

“Huh?”

“Coma. Died,” I explained. “Overdosed.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said through clenched teeth.

I pushed back the dark thoughts of my brother’s demise, barely holding it together by a thread. “Depressed, talented, awesome, my favorite person in the world… he was all those things. And you – you remind me of him. I don’t know why, but you just do. So yeah, I’m pushing a little, but I think you can take it. Tell me you’re strong enough to take it.”

“You don’t know me.” Her voice was hard. It had an edge to it that I wasn’t used to hearing from girls.

“I do.”

“You. Don’t.”

I released her hand. “Better than you realize. Look, I don’t sugarcoat things, and I sure as hell don’t have time to be that guy. The one who waits for weeks to finally crack all your defenses. I’m different. Maybe I’m too intense. I get that. My methods are crazy. But I’m drawn to you – and honestly, you need me.”

“I don’t need anyone,” she whispered, sounding like she hardly believed herself let alone was capable of convincing anyone else.

“You do,” I said. “And I’ll wait until you say it to my face if that’s what it takes for you to realize it.”

With that, I got up from my seat and left her. I’d keep writing my notes. I’d keep pushing her.

Maybe if I could save her – I let out a rugged breath… maybe in saving her I’d be saving him. I couldn’t then, but I can now.