grocery bill had to have been way more than mine typically costs because all of this stuff is the freaking healthier version! My dad is going to murder me and I’ll never make it to the party now.
A few weeks ago, I caught the tail end of my mom packing up all of her things and throwing them quickly into a beat-up old suitcase. A fancy black car pulled up out front and my mom rushed inside without even a second glace my way. I don’t care where she went or even why she left, but I do care that I’m getting the short end of the stick yet again. Ever since that day my dad has been strung tighter than usual and flying off the handle in the blink of an eye.
I quietly step into the house, relieved to see he isn’t home yet from the farm that he works on when he’s sober enough to show up. I might actually have a chance to get out of here unscathed. My dog, Chuck, saunters over with his tail wagging to greet me. Chuck, who we think is some kind of cattle dog, is the only loved member in this house. Everybody loves Chuck. He found us last year and never left, and thankfully he did, because he’s my only saving grace in this godforsaken house.
“Hey buddy,” I say while scratching behind his ear. “I gotta leave again soon, but I’ll be back later.”
I rush through my shower and put on the makeup Mrs. Thomas passed down to me a while back. Right as I’m slipping my feet into a pair of sandals, I hear my dad’s truck backfire out front. Quickly, I open the window in the bathroom and slip out into the knee-high grass. I can’t let him see me right now. Once he gets a look at those groceries, he will blow a gasket from the amount of money I ‘wasted.’
Just as I’m rounding the corner, I hear the old screen door slam open, loudly crashing into the metal siding. Before I can hide somewhere, he’s grabbing me by the arms. Coincidentally, it’s in the same exact spot Jace held me not even two hours ago, except this is nothing like how Jace touched me. This is malicious and meant to leave a mark.
“Just who do you think you are, and why the hell do I see a bottle of whiskey on my damn counter that cost more than I make in a month?” I have no words; they’ve all dried up. “You think you’re better than me, girl? You’re too fucking good to buy the cheap one? You gotta go and waste my money?”
“The store was having a sale,” I manage to squeak out, without looking up at him.
“You think I’m some kind of idiot?”
Just then, Mrs. Thomas steps out of her trailer with a broom in hand. “Knock it off, Lee!” she hollers over at him.
Mrs. Thomas is about sixty years old, but I wouldn’t underestimate her and what she can do with a broom. When my dad hears her, his grip loosens a fraction, and he turns to glare at her for interrupting.
“You’re out there on your damn porch with that nonsense. I haven’t called the cops on your shit yet, but that don’t mean these other people won’t,” she says, pointing out our inquisitive neighbors.
When he realizes we have an audience, he reluctantly releases me. All the blood rushes back to my upper arms, and they begin to tingle from the return of blood flow. I immediately step away from him and head toward the bus stop at a clipped pace.
As I’m walking away, I hear his deep baritone say, “You can bet your ass we’ll talk later.”
I have roughly two hundred and eighty-three days until I graduate. On day two hundred and eighty-four, I hope to have at least a thousand miles between us.
“Dude, did I just see you molesting some chick on the side of the truck?” Jaxon asks with an irritating laugh, as he climbs up into the passenger seat.
“I don’t think you can call it assault when she’s a willing participant,” I defend.
“Damn man, you had Mrs. Jones blushing. I had to distract her on the other side of the store to get her away from the window. Looked like you were into her, whoever she was.”
“She was hot, right?” I ask, as I pull the truck out of the parking lot.
“I couldn’t see her since you were too far down her throat. I did see her leg hiked up though… whoo… wait until mom hears.”
“Don’t,” I growl.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, she won’t be hearing it from me.”
Shit, the last thing I need is someone hounding me about the mystery girl I was practically screwing up against my truck. Mom will be the worst. I typically never show interest in girls, at least not publicly. So far, every girl I’ve come across has been… dull, un-yielding, and just plain pushy. I don’t have the patience for that crap.
Holy hell though, Audrey made the blood begin pumping in my veins again. She lit me up the way a defibrillator re-starts a heart, providing a much-needed shock to my system.
“I want to meet this chick. She has to have a golden pu--”
Instantly, my fist slams into his bicep before he can finish that statement and victoriously, I watch as he sucks in a harsh breath of air and grabs his arm. I know it wasn’t my hardest blow because it wasn’t coming from a decent angle, but I’m glad it inflicted pain.
I point right at him and say, “You’ll stay away from her, and shut the hell up about her body.”
I hear him whistle while shaking his head. “Man… I need to meet this girl. I mean, you don’t hook up with chicks EVER, and this one had you practically marking your territory for all to see.”
“You make me sound like a damn virgin,” I complain.
“Might as well be,” he responds drily.
“Just because I don’t screw every girl that walks past me and in public, I might add, doesn’t mean anything.”
“That chick last weekend was fine as hell and you know it,” he says, grinning.
I don’t even answer. Sometimes I feel that if I respond in any way at all, he thinks it justifies his actions. Ever since dad died last year, Jax has been uncontrollable. Mom said he’s going through his own grieving process, but in my opinion, it’s getting out of hand.
Last weekend, he hooked up with a girl from our school at a party, right outside on one of the pool loungers for everyone to see. Granted, it was pitch-black outside and most of the party was inside, but they still gained a small audience. The weekend before, he got in a fight when Grayson Jones accidently bumped into him at a party and spilled his beer. A couple days later, he beat Kyle Martin’s face in when he thought the dude had touched his Camaro, which it turned out he hadn’t. Jax has just become a loose cannon.
“So on a scale of one-to-getting-arrested, how crazy are you going to be tonight?” I ask as I pull into Cole’s driveway. He called earlier asking for help with set-up, so I’m dropping Jaxon off to pull our share of friend- duty.
He tugs the door handle and scoots out of the truck. “Hmmm….” He rubs the scruff on his chin, being his typical asshole self as of late. I put the engine into reverse because I don’t have time for his bullshit. “Chill dude, I’ll be good tonight.”
I have no idea what his idea of ‘good’ is anymore. “I’ll be back later. I need to run all this stuff back to mom.”
I arrive at the party later than I wanted to, because mom had me running around doing all the errands Jax was supposed to do weeks ago. I should have just told her I met a girl and I needed to leave to be here before she arrived, but I didn’t feel like playing twenty questions with her tonight.
The street around Cole’s house is packed so I have to park on the next block over. There’s no way Audrey could miss this place, and I can feel my blooding pumping faster in anticipation of seeing her again. Now I just need to locate her, but it shouldn’t be hard to find a stunning, long-legged brunette with the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
When I walk in the door, I immediately spot my idiot brother standing toe-to-toe with Mike Bailey and see that they’ve drawn a crowd around them. I already know what this is about. Jaxon slept with Mike’s girlfriend yesterday at the lake and he must have found out; girls talk too damn much. And did I mention Jax has been an asshole lately? I’m sure he can handle himself with Mike, but I decide to stay in close proximity in case I need to
