Break Me Page 4

  He is staring right at me and I feel my cheeks flush. He makes something at the bar before he walks over to me. I don’t think my feet could move if I physically moved them myself. “I can’t believe you are here right now,” he says to me, still wearing his grin.

  I take the glass from his hand without even asking if it’s mine. I sniff it, finding rum and Coke. I chug it down as fast as I can and still look like a lady. When my glass is dry, I hand it back to Royal. “I can’t believe I’m here either,” I mumble out.

  “Why are you here?” he asks and something dark passes behind his eyes. It’s gone before I can see what it is, and that scares me a little.

  “Pierce and Annabella bailed on me. I need to get drunk,” I get out through my stiff lips. The alcohol isn’t kicking in yet but I know it’s only a matter of time.

  He bites his lower lip and I follow the movement with my eyes. “What really happened between the library and now?” Since Monday I’ve met Royal at the library on Wednesday and Friday. Which is today. Luckily he wasn’t pissed off I cut our session short on Monday night.

  “Nothing happened,” I lie and try to smile. The alcohol is starting to make me feel good, so it probably looks more real than it is. “Can I have another drink?”

  He eyes me up and down before slowly nodding. “Yeah, but you should slow down after that.”

  I roll my eyes and shove past him, finally able to move my feet. “You’re not my boss,” I spit out, suddenly pissed off. Why does he think he can tell me what to do?

  He chuckles that deep soothing chuckle and I want to punch him in the face. This is not funny. “Right, Duchess.”

  My breathing accelerates and I spin around to face him. “Excuse me?”

  He lifts his eyebrow and his lips move into a mocking grin, “I called you Duchess. Do you have a problem with pet names? Or are you one of those girls who think pet names are stupid?” He moves closer, about an inch from touching me. He bends down until our eyes are level. “I’ll have you know I thought long…and hard about that pet name.” He whispers the last part and his eyes travel down to my cleavage.

  Tingles spread throughout my body and I start to feel faint. “I bet you did. But you’re not getting in my pants.”

  He laughs softly before he moves and now we are touching. “If I wanted in your pants, Wes, I’d have been there already.” With those parting words he goes over to the bar and starts a conversation with Channing.

  I blink several times before I walk over to them. Royal hands me a new rum and Coke before I can even say anything. I snatch it out of his hand and walk out of the room. I find my way into the kitchen where I find a treasure trove. I grab a two-liter of Coke from the counter and then a liter of Captain Morgan’s coconut rum. I find glasses in the dishwasher and then head up a back set of stairs.

  I’m pissed off and seriously upset, so when I open the first door and realize it’s Royal’s bedroom, I grin widely. His room kind of reminds me of Bentley’s but only because of the guitars. I see a few Fenders and one badass red Gibson on the left side of the room. They either hang on the wall or have a stand sitting next to his half stack. His bed sits in the middle of the room, covered in a black bedspread along with two black nightstands on either side. There’s a black couch on the right side of the room, sitting in front of a black entertainment center.

  I set my treasure down on his nightstand and make myself a drink. Before twenty minutes have passed I’ve drank half the bottle of Coke and two-thirds of the rum. I’m fucking drunk.

  That’s when I lay down on his bed and start to cry. I cry hard and while it’s refreshing and I need it, it makes me feel even shittier. I don’t even want Royal to want me, but it hurt to be rejected. I’ve been getting rejected a lot lately. And by two people who should have stood by me at all costs. So what? I got a little sad my boyfriend died, I do believe I’m entitled.

  Hours pass as I stare at the ceiling and cry. When I start to feel more sober, I drink another glass. At some point I fall asleep. For once I don’t dream of Trey. I don’t dream at all.

  “Wes,” someone says softly. I think it’s Royal. When I slowly open my eyes, I see it is Royal. I must still be drunk because I sit up and hug his neck. And I sob, and then sob some more. His shirt is soaked at the shoulder before long.

  I can tell at first he doesn’t know what to do, but then his arms go around me and he rubs my back. Neither of us speak and I love it. For once someone is letting me just be.

  After a while he lays me down on the bed. He takes his shirt off before lying down beside me. I’m a little worried by that, but then I remember he doesn’t want me. He puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his chest. I’ve finally stopped crying, so it’s seconds before I’m fast asleep again.

  The next time I wake up, Royal is asleep and I’m still on his chest. I feel safe and warm…and not alone. That thought scares me so bad; I almost jump out of his bed. Instead, I quietly get out of his arms and off his bed. I’m still completely dressed, I’m even wearing my shoes, so I bolt.

  If I had looked back I would have seen that I woke him up. I would have seen my future in his eyes.

  I would have also seen that I started something that would break me.

  Chapter Six

  “So what did you do last night?” Annabella asks me later on Saturday. After I got home from Royal’s I took a long hot shower and washed the entire night from my body. Then my phone started ringing. Luckily it was only Annabella, never Royal. Apparently she needed a girl’s day. I think she is just starting to feel guilty for ignoring me for the past six months.

  I shrug my shoulders and walk around a young mother with a stroller going two miles an hour. “Nothing really. Watched Pride and Prejudice, then I went to sleep.”

  She nods before shoveling more ice cream into her mouth. “Pierce and I watched James Bond movies all night.” I scrunch up my face at her and she laughs. “This is why we didn’t invite you. What is your problem with James Bond?”

  I shiver in revulsion before explaining, “Well if he wanted to watch the ones with Daniel Craig, I’d be all over that, but he has to watch the ones with Sean Connery.” I pause before I quote an episode of Family Guy where Sir Connery said, “Fifty no’s and one yes, still means yes.”

  Annabella has to stop and double over with her laughter. “You are too good at that!” she exclaims between breaths.

  I grab her arm and pull her along, “Come on you big dork. I want to see if they have any new historical romances at Barnes & Noble.” Now it’s her turn to look disgusted.

  “How can you even read that junk?” She stops to toss her ice cream away and turns to face me. “Oh no, Duke Greyson, you can’t kiss me before our wedding!”

  I slap her arm gently and pull her along with me on my way to the bookstore. “Because they did things differently back then. It was all more romantic.”

  She rolls her eyes but comes into the bookstore with me. “I’m going to go look at the magazines. Come find me when you’re done.”

  We part ways and I make my way over to the historical romances. I find one by Kat Martin that I haven’t read and pick it up. I’m reading the back cover when I feel intense heat light up my back. I almost drop the book when Royal’s voice floats down to my ear, “You even read history for fun.” His voice is low and sexy, most likely on purpose.

  I square my shoulders and move past him before facing him. “These aren’t really about history. They’re just romance’s taking place in the past.” I shrug and turn to head to the register.

  He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I feel that heat up against my back again, before his warm breath hits my ear, “Look, I know you want to pretend nothing happened last night, but I need an explanation. You can’t just cry on my shoulder and sleep in my bed and expect me not to ask what’s wrong with you.”

  I face him, anger fueling my words, “What’s wrong with me?” I push his chest but he doesn’t budge. “You have no right to ask t
hat. So what? I had a weak moment. It’s not like I went looking for you to help me with my problems.”

  “See that’s where you’re wrong. I think you went looking for me. I think you’ve had enough of the shitty way your friends treat you, and you went looking for me. I’ve been nice to you, made you feel secure about something. I don’t know what that is, but I’ll find out Wes.” His face gets redder the longer he talks. I know he’s mad but I’m not about to tell him what’s going on. I don’t know him. I don’t trust him.

  Or is that all lies? He’s right about me going looking for him. A part of me wanted him to care, and when he showed me he could, I ran the other way. “You won’t find out, Royal. Simply for the fact there is nothing to find out.” Then my phone starts ringing. I look down and see it’s Trey’s mom calling.

  Damn.

  I answer without thinking, “Mrs. Gardener?”

  “Wesley! It’s lovely to hear your voice, sweetie.” She pauses and I know what she is about to say is going to wreck me. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, especially yesterday, but you have to understand.”

  “I understand Mrs. Gardener. I’ve been that way, too.”

  She sighs and I know it’s going to be bad. “We are moving in a few weeks. I just can’t stand to live in this house anymore. We were wondering if you wanted to get anything out of Trey’s room before we packed it up?”

  One tear falls out of my eye. When he first died I used to sit in his room for hours. His parents never knew I was there. I snuck in through his window. I haven’t been in a few weeks but now I don’t even have that option anymore. I choke out, “Yes, there are some things I want.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Can you come over on Monday? That’s the day they are coming to remove his stuff.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. See you Monday.” I hang up before she can reply. They are getting rid of him. How can they get rid of him? They are his parents!

  “Wes?” Royal whispers behind me, making me jump. I totally forgot he was here.

  “I have to go,” I spit out before dropping my book on the floor and running out of there. And I just keep running. Before I know it I’m at my car and I’m climbing in. I blare YellowCard’s “Only One” in my car as I drive.

  After an hour I find myself at Trey’s grave. The graveyard is empty, which is a true blessing. I park my car and get out. Once I’m at his gravestone, I lie down next to it. I brought my bag from the car, so I fish out my headphones and my phone. I hook the headphones up and pop them in my ears. Then I just hit play.

  ***

  Hours later, I’m still sitting there. Annabella’s called several times, but I always hit ignore. Royal has been calling just as much. I just let his ring. It just seems rude to hit ignore on him. I don’t care what Annabella thinks.

  The sun is just starting to set when I decide to leave. There’s no point in laying out here in the dark. That’s way too creepy for me. I could just imagine ghosts floating by my head or zombies coming up from the ground.

  That’s how I find myself running from the graveyard like the hounds of hell are on my heels. I drive home this time and pretend I didn’t just spend an entire afternoon lying with dead people. At least they don’t want to know what’s wrong with me.

  There is only one light on in the house, which means everyone is out. Bentley probably went out with his friends. The same goes for my mother. My dad is on a business trip. Or so he says. I know the truth. And sometimes I hate him for it.

  I use my keys to get in the front door and almost scream when I find said dad sitting on the couch watching TV. “Dad you scared ten years off my life. I didn’t think you’d be home until next week.”

  He gets up from the couch and walks over to me before he speaks. “Sorry baby bear. I’ve only been home for an hour. I just figured you were out with Courtney and Annabella. How’s life?” He throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward the couch. I glance at the TV and see Law & Order: SVU. He totally has a crush on Olivia. “How are you doing after yesterday?” he asks in a softer voice.

  I sit with him on the couch but I don’t really want to. I want to go up to my room and stare at my ceiling. But I don’t because, whether I like it or not, my dad knows me better than I know myself. “Yesterday was hard.”

  He rubs my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder. “I know baby bear. Sorry I couldn’t be here. I tried to get out of leaving, or at least leaving after yesterday but Barney wasn’t hearing it.”

  “Yeah, because mob bosses are so easy to ask for time off.” I spit out.

  He flinches and I instantly feel bad. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. And never say you’re sorry for something you’re not.” He tells me before I can even open my mouth to apologize.

  “I know you’ve been doing this since before Bentley and I were born. I need to learn to live with it.” I didn’t know my father was a part of the mob until after Trey died. Uncle Barney runs the Barceló family in Dallas. It’s actually not as bad as it sounds, but it’s still messed up. Before I found out about the mob, I was always told dad was a doctor. Which I guess was never a lie, because he is a doctor, he just works solely for Uncle Barney and his men. He makes bank, I’ll give him that.

  It was really funny how I found out. The guy who killed Trey ended up dead a few weeks after he made bail. I was thankful at first but then things started to come out. Like the fact that his death was tied to Uncle Barney. I had no idea he was a mob boss until I read the article about the drunk guy’s death.

  By the way, I do know his name, I just refuse to speak it out loud.

  Anyway, I found my dad in his office and shoved the paper in his face. He made me sit down and he explained that he’s worked for Uncle Barney since he was fifteen. Dad has an affinity for healing those around him, so Uncle Barney sent him to college, where he got his Doctorate in Medicine. And he doesn’t just work on the men who get hurt doing mob stuff. I have no clue what mob stuff is, that’s just what my dad says. He makes house calls to their families as well. He’s even helped birth all the babies in the “family” since he got his degree.

  My dad doesn’t look like he’s in the mob either. He’s short, skinny and balding on the crown of his head. His green eyes are kind and while his face has some wrinkles, it’s from laugh lines, not from having to see hard shit for most of his life.

  “You don’t have to live with it, baby bear. I got myself into trouble when I was fifteen. I was thrust into this life, more than I chose it. Now I can’t get out without being killed or you or your mother, or Bentley. I just don’t bring it home with me.” He sighs and turns the TV off. “Now what’s wrong?”

  I let out a frustrated sigh myself. “Why do people keep asking me that?”

  “Maybe because you look like you’ve been crying for hours? That would be my first guess.” He chuckles when I glare at him.

  “Royal Sanders asked me that today. I didn’t even know that boy could care enough to ask. I didn’t think he gave a shit about girls and their feelings.” Before I even knew him, I saw what he did with other girls. He wasn’t all that nice.

  He has this way about him that just makes you tell him things. I guess he’s good at his job. That’s one thing about my father I wish he would stop.

  He taps his chin a few times before he speaks. “Royal Sanders? Isn’t he friends with Channing Southerland?” He raises his eyebrows and I groan.

  “Yes. They are best friends. Though you can’t tell sometimes by the way they talk to each other.” Which is true. I have seventh period with both of them and they talk shit to each other all the time. I shift around until I’m sitting on my feet. “I don’t like him or anything. Well, not romantically. He’s actually a pretty cool guy. I’ve been tutoring him in World History. Pierce and Annabella have been ignoring me lately, and well…Royal’s been around. He listens to me when I talk and now he seems to generally care about my well being.”

  Dad laughs and gets up off the couch. “Well baby bear, all I have to
say is guard your heart,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “unless you want him to have it. I know his father; he’s a good kid. I’d approve. Besides I love your cousin but he’s about to get into some serious trouble with Annabella and I want you to stay out of that.”

  “Huh? What kind of trouble?” I ask standing up myself.

  He just laughs, “Not the illegal kind. More like the kind of the heart. I don’t want you in the middle of all that. We are going to have our hands full with Courtney and Donovan.” He winks before leaving the room.

  I knew Annabella and Pierce had something going on.

  Chapter Seven

  On Sunday morning at exactly eleven a.m., Royal Sanders knocks on my front door. He didn’t call first, didn’t text, just showed up. And who answers the door? My father. Can you say awkward?

  I am in my room, staring at the ceiling listening to music. My dad appeared above me and I pulled my headphones off “You have a visitor.” That’s all he said before he walked out and Royal walked in.

  I swear my mouth opened and closed like a fish for ten whole minutes. I wasn’t expecting him to walk into my room. But I went with it. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he and I have something. It’s in the beginning stages, a connection that hasn’t found its purpose yet.

  I take in my room through his eyes. I wonder what he thinks of my closet doors being open and showcasing all the junk in there; clothes, shoes, boxes, and a softball bat that I haven’t picked up in years. My bed sits in the middle of the room, just like his. It’s covered in a white bedspread and has a few hundred white pillows piled on it. My chest of drawers sits to the right and has a huge mirror mounted on the top. The surface is cluttered with jewelry, fingernail polish, and books. On the left side of my bed is a huge white bookshelf that holds all my books.

  “So…I brought you something,” he says after entering my bedroom. He lays a Barnes & Noble bag on my bed, right next to my feet. It’s full of paperbacks.