Wrong Side of Town

Thankfully, we’d reached the outskirts of Penthill, and it only took a couple of minutes before Vincent was pulling up outside the community center. We’d gotten here pretty fast, despite Vincent’s best efforts to stick to the speed limit. I was pretty sure if I hadn’t been with him, he would’ve broken the speed limit within a minute of starting the bike.

When I hopped off the bike and took off the helmet, I was surprised to find that Vincent was also getting off and removing his own helmet.

He rested his helmet on the seat and ran a hand through his hair, trying to remove all signs of helmet hair. I preferred it when he let his hair hang loose instead of plying it with gel and smoothing it back. Either way, it highlighted his cheekbones like crazy. He had amazing cheekbones.

“So, listen.” Vincent blew out a breath, looking uncomfortable. It was pretty obvious he was having a hard time communicating or talking about his feelings. It was kind of cute, actually. “I get why you don’t wanna come back and tutor Dylan. I was a total asshole to you, and I probably said things I shouldn’t have said, but you kinda pissed me off when you said that Dil was scared of me.”

“I know and I’m-“

“It’s just that I try so fucking hard, Stelle. I try so hard to give Dil the life that me and my brothers never had growing up. But I keep screwing it up. I keep making mistakes and I can’t make it right.” Vincent paused, breathing hard. His eyes drilled into me and an electric current shot up my spine. “I know you don’t think much of me. You made that pretty clear the first night we met. But I’m telling you the truth; I’m doing every damn thing I can to make that kid’s life better.” Vincent’s voice cracked, and he buried his head in his hands, tendrils of hair falling over his face.

Without really thinking about what I was doing, I stepped forward and brushed the loose strands of hair off his face before placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. It was difficult for me to see his tough guy exterior crack. Obviously, Dylan’s well-being meant a lot to him.

Vincent jerked up, his eyes wide and startled as he stared at my hand and then at me, as though trying to deduce whether I’d lost my mind. I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t. I mean, I had just tried to console a Madden for the second time in a week!

There was something very wrong with this picture.

Heat assaulted my face at Vincent’s reaction, and I took a hasty step back, feeling like the most moronic person in the world. I was mentally slapping myself over and over again for doing such a stupid thing.

Just because Vincent was upset didn’t mean that I could console him. We weren’t friends; we barely put up with each other. And, he was a Madden. A freaking Madden! I had to remind myself of that any time I let my feelings get the better of me.

I’d let myself get carried away again. The distance between us had to stay intact. I couldn’t just go around touching him all the time because I felt bad for him.

“Uh, um, yeah.” I stammered, at a complete loss for words. Vincent was still staring at me like I was a space alien, so I had to fill the excruciatingly awkward silence somehow. “I-uh-see that you’re being genuine ab- about wanting the best for Dylan, but-“

Before I could continue, Vincent reached out and took my hands in his. And you know what happened? My heart stopped. It freaking stopped. I mean, it didn’t literally stop; I could still feel it beating rapidly in my chest, but in some weird way, it stopped.

“Please, Stelle.” Vincent’s voice was low; his eyes burned into me, and his skin was blazing against mine. “I know you couldn’t care less about me if you tried, but Dylan needs you. If you stop coming over, it’s gonna kill him in a way you don’t understand. You’re not doing this for me; you’re doing it for him. Don’t let him walk away from this thinking that his circumstances make people treat him differently.”

There was so much sincerity in Vincent’s voice that I felt my defenses beginning to crumble. He was right. Dylan depended on me. In a couple of weeks, we’d formed an attachment, and I couldn’t break his heart like that. I would hate for him to go down the same path as his brothers, knowing that I could’ve made a difference in his life.

Exhaling, I nodded, and watched as Vincent’s expression changed from desperation to relief. “You’re right; it’s not his fault he was born into this.  I’ll continue to tutor him, but I have conditions.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was about to object, so I hurried on. “No swearing, no alcohol, and no drugs around Dylan. You’re trying to set a good example for him, right? Setting a good example starts with becoming a good example.”

I held my breath, watching as the muscles worked in Vincent’s jaw, expecting him to reject my offer. But when he gave a curt nod instead, I felt like I had just entered a dream state. I had just negotiated with a Madden and lived to tell the tale.

“If you think that’s gonna help him then I’ll go along with it.” Vincent brushed his fingers against my knuckle, and my heart soared. Breaking eye contact, he stepped away from me, putting distance between us. “I gotta go.”

His abruptness confused me, and I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ears in an attempt to find something to do with my hands now that Vincent had released them. “Yes, uh, I should go, too. I have to start prepping for dinner.”

“Prepping dinner?” Vincent cocked a brow.

“Yes, for the homeless.” I resignedly shoved my hands into my coat pocket to stop fidgeting. “A hot meal really gets their spirits up on a freezing night like this one.”

“Huh.” He was silent again, his eyes searching as they studied my face. Finally, he broke his gaze, and headed back to his bike. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Okay, sure,” I said, but I didn’t start walking to the community center, even though I knew I should. Something was tugging inside of me, curling itself around the wall I always kept in place when I was near Vincent—sympathy.

I felt sympathy for Vincent. And that notion was terrifying, that I felt sympathy for this guy who was so different from me that there weren’t enough antonyms in the world to compare us.

“Vincent.” He turned when I said his name, and I swallowed, bunching my fists inside the pocket of my coat. “I do care about you.”

I didn’t wait to see his reaction—a part of me didn’t want to know how he would react.

I simply walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

Vincent

There was a pounding in my ears as I watched Estella walk away.

I didn’t know what to think. She’d just told me she cared about me. No one had ever told me they cared about me and meant it.

Ruby had said something along those lines to me many times, but she was always manipulative with her words. With Estella, it was different. It was different because she actually seemed genuine about it.

And she’d touched me again. She’d fucking touched me. I figured the girl couldn’t stand to be near me, but she’d actually touched me. And I’d touched her back. Because I’d wanted to. Because I didn’t want her thinking that I didn’t want to.

My logic was so screwed up.

Swearing under my breath, I turned to grab my helmet, and that’s when I saw him.

Conor sat on his bike, across the road, in the parking lot of The Penthill Grill. And, he was staring right at me. Even from here, I could see the smirk on his mouth as he watched me like he’d just found out an amazing secret.

My body tensed as a sick feeling filled me up. Conor was the butt boy of Troy, the leader of the Allbrook gang. Troy was always sending Conor out on little recon missions to try and dig up something on me so they could use it as an advantage against me in a fight.

It’d been three years and they’d still had no luck. Those assholes were dreaming if they thought they’d ever