Текст книги "The Rocker Who Betrays Me"

Автор книги: Terri Browning

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

A small laugh escaped me, relieving the tightness in my chest ever so slightly. “Thanks, Mr. Niall. I would love to have some of Mrs. Niall’s homemade yeast rolls.”

His face brightened. “Good. Good. I’ll let her know. Be expecting Wroth to tell you what night.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I stood and walked around the desk so I could walk with him to the front door. “Drive carefully, Mr. Niall. Tell Mrs. Niall I said hi.”

“You’re a good girl, Annabelle. Don’t you ever change, honey.” He waved as he walked through the door and I watched long enough for the older man to pull out of the parking lot before turning back to my desk.

The pickup truck was the last scheduled appointment we’d had for the day. It was already two in the afternoon and we only stayed open until three on most Saturdays unless someone had scheduled a later appointment. Since I doubted we would have anything that would need my attention—especially since Noah was more than capable of dealing with any last-minute arrivals, I grabbed my backpack and went up to the apartment above the garage.

My dad, George Cassidy, had built the garage with his own hands when he was twenty-one years old. His grandparents had left him a nice little nest egg when they had passed away and he’d taken that money and invested it in the two-story garage, using the upper floor as his residence.

Even back then the county hadn’t had its own garage, forcing people to drive into Nashville to get any repairs done. Dad had known what he was doing when he’d provided a service that everyone had needed so desperately. He’d started out on his own, and then when Wade Cutter had moved to West Bridge, he’d taken him on, paying him with commissions instead of hourly. The two had made a great team.

When Dad had married my mother, she’d rushed to spit out a child for her husband so that he would buy her a house. She’d hated living in the apartment above the garage.

Even back then I was sure my mom had only married him because he’d been on the rise to making a good living. Not many people in West Bridge could afford my mother’s expensive tastes in alcohol, at least not in our part of town. And I was sure that the ones who had memberships at the local country club just outside of town didn’t think Mom was worthy of their time, let alone good enough to marry.

It might sound harsh, but I wasn’t blind. I knew that my mother liked to think she was a queen, but the truth was she was just white trash. She hadn’t helped dispute that label by marrying Jacob, either. The creep was racist and was the kind of guy who gave good ol’ country boys a bad name. I was pretty sure that Jacob was a member of a local hate group. Most of the folks in West Bridge hated him, and I was high at the top of the list of people who wanted to see the bastard swimming with an anchor tied to his feet.

The apartment was actually a nice place to live, in my opinion. It had a small kitchen with a small laundry room off to the side, a living room big enough to hold a large couch and loveseat plus the big-screen television that Noah had bought for it. The bedroom was a decent size, with a queen bed and dresser. The only bathroom was in the hall between the living room and bedroom, but it had a large tub/shower combo, not to mention the toilet was separated by a door that offered privacy to those needing to use the bathroom while someone else showered.

I tossed my backpack on the couch and dropped down on the edge of one of the cushions. I glanced around carefully, trying to imagine Noah and I sharing the apartment like he wanted us to do. The couch was long, but it doubled as a bed since it had a pull-out mattress folded inside. It should be long enough so that his long legs didn’t hang over the ends. Maybe we could make it work after all.

If our mother didn’t cause trouble, that is. Noah didn’t think she would because he gave her a monthly allowance from the profits we made from the garage. He’d threatened to make that disappear if Mom wanted to stick her nose in it. However, I wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t. She was a drama queen and was liable to stir shit up just for the hell of it. I was still sixteen for two more weeks, and even when I turned seventeen I wasn’t sure if she couldn’t get the cops involved because I would still technically be a minor.

Anxiety clenched in my gut at the thought of Noah being hauled away in cuffs because he’d wanted to take care of me. Jacob and Mom would probably have a good laugh watching Noah go to jail.

Oh, Christ. I couldn’t let my brother get in trouble. No way. He had a bright future ahead of him with not only the garage but with his music. Noah had an amazing voice. He could go far in the music world if he was able to stick with it.

Damn it.

I couldn’t let him risk going to jail over this. I couldn’t let him throw away his chances of doing something amazing with his life and his career. I couldn’t….

“You going to study?”

My head snapped up at the sound of Noah’s voice. He was standing in the doorway with grease smeared over his cheek and forehead. He looked tired, but I didn’t see so much as a sign of worry on his handsome face. Did he not understand what he could be losing if I stayed there?

“Noah, I have to go home.”

His lips tightened and he moved away from the door, slamming it shut behind him as he crossed to the couch and glared down at me. “Don’t start this again, Annabelle. Everything is going to be okay. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve already taken care of it, actually. Devlin, Wroth, and Z are going to pick up Chelsea and stop by Mom’s house. They are going to pack up everything you need and bring it over. I’ve told Mom what’s going to happen and what won’t happen if she doesn’t let you stay here with me.”

He dropped down on the edge of the couch beside me, a smug-ass grin on his face. “She tried to run her fucking mouth, but I shut her bitching up real quick when I told her she wasn’t going to get two dimes out of me if she tried to make a scene over this. I told her plain and simple that she had two options. One, you get to live with me and I still pay her the money she lives off of. Or, two, I call CPS, tell them what she’s been doing and allowing Jacob to do, and the money stops and she goes to jail for child neglect and endangerment. Either way I would still get to keep you since I have a stable job, my own place to live, and a bunch of other crap that would qualify me as a capable family member to look after you.”

“So she’s really going to let me stay here?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek to contain my hope.

Noah’s lips lifted in a sad kind of smile. “Yes, Annabelle. She doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She can’t do shit to make you go back.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, what sounded like a tortured breath leaving his chest. “I still can’t believe you were going through hell and I didn’t know.” He opened his eyes and met my gaze. “Don’t you know that you are all I have left, Annabelle? I’d be lost without you, sweetheart.”

I threw myself into my brother’s arms, not caring that he was covered in grease and grime and going to get me filthy. A broken sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh choked me as it bubbled out of my throat.

I was going to be safe, and Noah’s future wasn’t going to get thrown in the trash because of me.

Everything was going to be okay. We were going to be just fine.

 

C HAPTER S IX

Zander

The ride back to my house was a quiet one. Devlin and I both had our jaws clenched, our faces tight with determination. Noah had called Wroth’s house and we’d all decided we would be there with Chelsea when she went in to pick up Annabelle’s things. Honestly, with just Wroth there we knew Chelsea would have no problems getting the things that Annabelle needed, but I wanted to be there.

I fucking needed to be there.

Since Wroth was the one who had spoken to Noah, I had no idea how Annabelle was handling all of this. Wroth had simply told us that Noah wanted him to pick up Chelsea and grab Annabelle’s things. I was lucky to have gotten that much of an explanation out of the dude. Wroth wasn’t much of a talker; he said as little as possible most of the time.

I pulled into my driveway but didn’t move to get out of the truck. Devlin and I remind quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts as we waited for Wroth’s mother’s old Jeep Cherokee to pull into the driveway that separated mine from Dev’s. When it did, a normally perky Chelsea jumped out of the front passenger seat with a look on her face that seriously made me glad I wasn’t the one on the receiving end of her temper.

Devlin opened his door and I followed behind quickly. Glancing at my house, I saw my grandmother standing in the front window watching, and I shook my head at her. The look on her face told me she knew that whatever was going on in my fucked-up head wasn’t good. She put her fingers to her lips, concern on her wrinkled but still beautiful face. I waved once and jogged to catch up to Devlin and Wroth who were standing on the front steps of Annabelle’s front porch.

Chelsea stood by the door, her finger holding down the doorbell without letting up on it. From inside the house I heard Wendy Cassidy-Malcolm cursing as she stomped to the front door. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she yelled.

Chelsea didn’t release the doorbell until the door opened to a fuming Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm. “What the fuck do you four want?” she snarled before lifting a Dixie cup of what smelled like fruit punch to her lips.

We all knew that it wasn’t just fruit punch in that cup. She was notorious for loving her vodka and wine, and from the way her eyes were bloodshot, and with the way she seemed unsteady on her feet, we all knew she was more than three sheets to the wind. My guess was vodka was her drink of choice that night. Annabelle had told me that her mother loved to mix her alcohol with fruity juices, normally adding a third of the bottle to her concoctions.

Chelsea crossed her arms over her busty chest. She and Noah’s mother had never gotten along and neither had made a secret of that. Noah had started dating Chelsea our freshmen year and they had been connected at the hip ever since. The two might have fought like cats and dogs at least once a day, but they made up before either fell asleep every night.

Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm hadn’t liked Chelsea from day one because Chelsea wasn’t shy about her feelings for the other woman. That’s one of the things I liked so much about my friend’s girlfriend. You always knew where you stood with her because she told you straight to your face. She was a little spitfire. There had been more than a few occasions where she’d missed school over the years because of suspensions from getting into fights. Not all of them had been with girls, either.

“Noah told me he already talked to your drunk ass, so don’t act stupid, bitch. I’m here to get Annabelle’s things. These guys are here to make sure you and your fucking loser of a husband don’t get in my way.”

Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm took a long swallow from her Dixie cup. “Jacob isn’t here.”

“Good.” Chelsea went to walk into the house, but the older woman didn’t move aside.

I tensed, ready to step in if they started fighting. I would have paid good money to see Chelsea kick her ass, but I didn’t want to have to bail her out of the county jail when she got arrested for assault. Beside me, Devlin started to step forward just as I did, but Wroth was closer and much more effective. He stepped up behind Chelsea and crossed his arms over his chest. Something on his face must have gotten through to Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm’s drunken mind because she gulped and stepped back in the next second.

The three of us followed Chelsea through the living room and down the hall to Annabelle’s room. I went to the closet and pulled out a duffel bag and the only suitcase on the top shelf. Chelsea crossed to the dresser and started opening drawers, tossing in bras and panties while I took clothes out of the closet without taking them from the hangers.

As I put the first load of jeans in, my fingers brushed over a pair of soft panties and everything inside of me went white-hot and my body hardened. Muttering a curse under my breath, I tried to ignore the hard-on that was making it uncomfortable to walk—just from touching Annabelle’s fucking underwear, and helped to finish packing up her clothes.

Devlin produced a few boxes and he started tossing in the few things on top of her dresser and nightstand before taking the pictures off the walls. It took less than twenty minutes to pack up the room with the three of us working together while Wroth stood guard at the door. I grabbed the suitcase and the duffel bag while Wroth and Devlin each took a box and Chelsea had the small overnight bag she’d used to pack up the things Annabelle needed from the bathroom.

As we walked through the house, we found Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm sitting on the couch with a full cup of her fruit punch and vodka mixture, watching a rerun of a sitcom. She didn’t lift her eyes from the television as we left. We loaded everything into the back of my truck and headed to Noah’s apartment.

It took less than five minutes to get to the garage. Wroth pulled up behind me and he helped Chelsea and Devlin unload my truck. I just sat behind the wheel for several long minutes. I needed to man up and go up to the apartment and face Annabelle, let her have her pound of flesh for going behind her back the way I had.

Knuckles knocking on my window forced me to lift my head to find Devlin standing beside my door. He had Annabelle’s suitcase in one hand and her duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes said he had my back. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I stepped out of the truck and took the suitcase from him as he led the way up the back steps to the apartment that took up the top floor of the garage.

Wroth had left the door open for us and I swallowed hard before entering the apartment behind Devlin. The sound of the television greeted us and I quickly glanced around, searching for Annabelle. Noah was in the kitchen, pulling out slices of pizza from one of several boxes and loading it onto a plastic plate. Wroth was already sitting on the couch, but there was no sign of Chelsea or Annabelle.

Devlin dropped the duffel bag on the floor beside the old recliner. “Got any beer?”

“Yeah, there’re a few left over from Wroth’s last visit.” Noah grabbed a paper towel and folded it in half before picking up the paper plate. “Thanks for getting Annabelle’s things, guys. There’s plenty of pizza, so make yourselves at home. I’m gonna take this in to Annabelle. She’s not up for company right now. We can watch a movie or something.”

I dropped the suitcase beside the duffel bag and held out my hand for the paper plate. No way was I just going to sit out there when the only person I wanted to be around right then was in another room. “I’ll do that.”

Noah lifted a brow at me but didn’t say a word as he relinquished Annabelle’s plate of pizza. Clenching my jaw, I moved across the living room to the bedroom door and knocked twice before opening it. Annabelle was lying on the bed with her back to the door. The TV that sat on top of an old dresser was tuned to some old sitcom that I knew she liked, but from the way her head was pressed into the pillow I knew she wasn’t watching it. Chelsea was in the connecting bathroom, putting away Annabelle’s things but stuck her head out when I entered the bedroom. Like Noah, she lifted her brows when she saw me standing there but didn’t say a word as she pressed her lips together and left the room.

I waited until the door was closed behind her before stepping farther into the bedroom. As I stepped closer, I could hear her sniffling, and my stomach twisted.

She was crying. Fuck. Her tears were like daggers slicing through my chest.

Her back was still turned to me when I sat down on the edge of the bed and placed the paper plate on the nightstand. Her shoulders tensed and I knew she knew it was me and not her brother, but she didn’t lift her head to look at me as I kicked off my shoes and lay down behind her. A small sob left her when I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her back against my chest.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” Another small sob that left me feeling like I was being shot with a fucking machine gun escaped her and I tucked her closer. “Don’t hate me, baby. Please don’t hate me. I had to tell him. If anything happened to you I would lose what little was left of my fucked-up mind.” I pressed a kiss into the hair at her temple.

She moved so quickly I didn’t have time to react. One minute I was facing her back, the next I was assaulted by the bluest eyes in the world. Tears were pouring down her beautiful face, but she wasn’t glaring at me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and she buried her face in my chest.

“I c-couldn’t hate you, Z. Not ever,” she whispered brokenly.

Some of the tightness around my heart eased at her confession that she didn’t hate me and I stroked my hands down her back. “Don’t cry, Anna. Please, don’t cry.”

“I want to be m-mad at you, but I c-can’t.” She rubbed her face against my shirt. “I was so hurt that you broke your promise, but I understand. Really, I do. You’re tired of having to take care of me so much, and I’m sorry you’ve had to. If I’d known it would be so simple to just tell Noah and let him take care of everything, I would have told him months ago and you wouldn’t have had to deal with my crap.” She lifted her head, pushed away from me and finally sat up. A small, sad smile lifted the corners of her lips. “You can go back to doing whatever it is you do, Z. I promise not to bother you again.”

If her tears had been like knives and bullets, her words were like fucking grenades, eviscerating my heart with each syllable that left her perfect mouth. So that was what she thought? That I’d broken my promise to her by telling Noah because I was tired of taking care of her? Was she out of her fucking mind?

“Anna, that isn’t why I told him,” I began, but she shook her head, offering me yet another sad smile as another tear spilled from those baby blues.

“It’s okay, Z. Really.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, leaving me lying there, unable to find the words to tell her she was wrong. “I need a shower. Thanks for helping the others bring my things. I swear it’s the last time you’ll ever have to do anything for me.”

“Anna…”

She opened the bathroom door and glanced back at me over her shoulder. “I owe you so much, Z. I’ll never forget that. Maybe one day I can repay you for all the help you gave me.” She gave me another sad smile that made my stomach roll with nausea, and then she was stepping into the bathroom, leaving me alone.

All day I’d been stressing over how to deal with Annabelle’s anger, her possible hate of me for breaking my promise. Never once had I thought she would think I’d done it to get away from her. This… I didn’t know how to deal with this. She was beyond hurt. It was almost as if I had broken her heart.

And that just wasn’t acceptable to my fucked-up mind.

Annabelle

I waited for several long minutes until I heard the bedroom door close behind him. Then and only then did I let go of the tears I’d been desperate to hide from him. I’d been helpless to keep some of them at bay, but I’d be damned if I’d let him see me completely break down. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

I heard the soft click of the bedroom door finally closing and rushed to turn on the shower to drown out my broken sobs. I dropped down beside the tub and pressed my forehead against the cool tiles as the scalding tears flooded out of me.

I only had myself to blame. I’d pretended that Zander had let me climb through his bedroom window because he secretly loved me as much as I loved him. The night before had only driven that hope home for me. The way he’d treated me all evening and then held on to me so tightly as I’d fallen asleep… All of that hope had crumbled into a pile of ashes that morning when I’d realized that he was probably only trying to let me down easy.

Zander Brockman didn’t want to be my white knight. He wanted his life back and I couldn’t blame him. He was a great guy and he deserved to have the life he wanted.

It wasn’t his fault that my heart was shattered, that I couldn’t fucking breathe for the pain. I’d lost him…

No, I’d never really had him.

If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to face him again. I’d no longer be living next door to him so I wouldn’t risk running into him every day. He had to work and I still had school, so avoiding him wouldn’t be hard. That was the only way I’d ever be able to move on.

There was a tap on the bathroom door and I lifted my head as the door opened a few inches. My heart stopped, thinking it was Zander and my humiliation would be complete. When Chelsea’s dark blond head appeared around the edge of the door, I was able to breathe again, barely.

Her eyes landed on me where I was huddled up against the bathtub. Sympathy filled her dark blue gaze. She closed and locked the door before dropping down onto the bathroom floor beside me. Holding open her arms, I let her pull me against her and I bawled like a baby until my throat was raw.