BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (71 page)

He rocked me. “Whatever it is that’s got you like this, shit, I swear, I’ll fix it. I won’t leave you alone. Please, Dovey, talk to me.” He tried to tilt my chin and look at me, but I fought him until he sighed and gave up.

Not leave me?

What a lie. He’d left me once already, hadn’t he? And a leopard never changes his spots. Once you’re called the heartbreaker of BA, you’re always the heartbreaker of BA.

“Dovey, please tell me what’s wrong. Is this about Sarah?” Cuba asked. “Or that Barinsky guy?” Again, he tried to get me to look at him.

I shook my head frantically. No, no, no.

“Then, is this about Emma?” He held his breath, his body tense. “Because I’m —”

At her name, I squirmed out of his embrace and stood, my hands wiping at the wetness on my cheeks. I couldn’t tell him the whole truth, so I lied.

“It’s—it’s Spider. We had a fight.”

He rushed to his feet. “I’ll kill that bastard if he laid a hand on you,” he shouted.

“No, no that.” But, I guess that was debatable though.

“Then just a lover’s tiff?” A muscle in his jaw ticked.

I sniffed. “We kissed and then I—I called him your name.”

His eyes widened. “Oh. That sucks…for him.”

I ignored that.

“He hates you, you know. And it makes me angry that I ...” I stopped, afraid of what might slip out.

He briefly shut his eyes. “If he loves you, he’ll get over it.”

But, why hadn’t Cuba loved me?

I nodded, changing gears. “Tell me something, is that
someday
here yet? The one where you explain why you mind-fucked me?”

“Dovey,” he said, and then his voice softened. “Please, I—I don’t know where to start with this, but I’m sorry for everything,
especially
the way we broke up. I know I destroyed any respect or love you had for me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d give anything if you’d forgive me.”

My breath caught at his next words.

“I—I’m trying to be a better person because anything is better than what I am. Your forgiveness would help.”

He was trying for Emma.

I wanted to scream again.

Instead, I waved my hands in the direction of where the barn was. “One winter day last year, I fell in love with you inside that barn. And I thought you loved me too—but you
didn’t
. Why did you lie to me and make me love you? What purpose did it serve? Was it just to get your rocks off? Did you sit up at night and laugh about the stupid girl from Ratcliffe who fell for your bullshit?
What was it
?” My voice teetered on breaking, and I yanked it back.

Silence from him as he got still, like a frozen winter god.

But I needed this. Because we’d never had this conversation, real closure.

“Don’t leave me hanging here, Cuba,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ve pretended like I didn’t exist for an entire year. Why? Just tell me the fucking truth.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, his face completely blank, and I knew he’d shut down. I let out a jarring laugh. “Silence with you is never golden. I get it. The truth is too painful.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his head bowed. “I’m afraid that whatever I say will hurt you, and I’m sick of breaking your heart. You don’t deserve that. You need something good and sweet. I let you down last year, and I’d do it again. You need someone who’s not me.”

Not him? Would there ever be anyone else for me?

He rubbed his face with his hands. “Cara, my parents, and now you. I’ve hurt those who care about me the most.”

I glanced into the darkness, anywhere except at him.

“You’ll never forgive me,” he stated, sadness flickering over his face.

“I don’t know,” I said, and that was as much as I was willing to give right now. I pivoted from him, headed to my car.

“Wait,” he called out after me. “Where are you going? You know you can’t drive home in this right?”

“Getting a hotel room,” I lied. Ready to get away from him.

“Look, I have ten empty bedrooms.” He fell into step beside me.

“So?”

“So? I’m inviting you to stay at my house. I don’t want you on these roads, even to drive to a hotel. When I checked out your car, I noticed your tires were bald. What if you slipped off in a ditch?”

I hitched my bag up and kept on. “I have a cell phone. You drove here didn’t you? And why are you out this late?

He clammed up. “No reason.”

Oh, but there was, and it was probably Emma related.

“You play a deep game, Cuba.”

He grabbed my wrist, and we stopped in the snow. He drew me toward him, and without me even realizing it, I allowed it. Invisible wires connected us. Hadn’t they always? “You were
never
a game to me, do you understand. Not one time that we were together.”

Little puffs of smoke came out of his mouth, and as we stood nose to nose, the winter air between us mingled and it felt a lot like how our first kiss began that night at Vespucci’s. His gaze landed on my lips, and I felt them part, remembering the weight of his, remembering how perfect we’d been. His head came down closer, closer to me, as if he was going to…

No
.

I pulled my wrist out of his clasp and put more space between us.

It was dangerous being near him.

Because I still wanted him. I still...

No, not going there. Because he’d hurt me,
remember?

We continued our trek to my car, until finally its white-covered hood came into view.

Except there was one problem.

Cuba cursed. “Someone slashed your tires, Dovey.”

“
Someday I’d tell her
.”

–
Cuba

WHO WOULD DO this to her car?

“Spider?” I bit out as I checked out the flattened tires.

“Never,” she said, worry on her face. “Maybe a prank or a mistake. I don’t know.”

I stood. “Come home with me. I’ll call the garage and have them take care of this.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” she grumbled, tossing her bag in the back of the Porsche as I opened the door for her.

We drove to my neighborhood at a slow crawl. She’d gotten quiet, and when I glanced over at her, she was out, her head propped up by the window.

I was glad I’d found her.

Anything could have happened to her out in the cold on dark streets.

And Spider? My mouth tightened at the thought of her and Spider kissing. But she’d called him by
my name
. And that thought completely messed with my head. One side of me wanted to take her home, tuck her in, and then head straight back over to Spider’s and beat the ever-loving-shit out of him. Number one for kicking her out, and number two for kissing her in the first place. Not that I had a claim on her. I know I didn’t.

And hadn’t they probably done a lot more than that together?

On the flip side of that, another part of me, one that I didn’t allow to come to the surface much, got a hot thrill at the thought of her saying my name when she kissed a guy.

Yeah. Made me hard and pissed off all at the same time.

Pulling up in the circular drive, I noticed the front lights were on, which meant Dad was home. I parked, and it took some balancing, but I swept Dovey up in my arms and carried her to the side door next to the kitchen. Dad flicked on the porch lights and met me there, dressed in his plaid robe, wearing his wire glasses and holding a book.

Finally, I could tell him my news. Get it off my chest.

Since I had no available hands, he opened the door for me, wearing a frown.

“Who is she and where have you been?” he said in his steely voice, following me as I eased through the kitchen and down the hall.

I huffed. Really? He hadn’t been home in five days and I got this?

Dovey muttered something as I adjusted my grip. “This is Dovey, and I’m putting her upstairs. She’s exhausted. Can we do this in a minute? She’s kinda heavy.”

He gave me a short nod and tapped his book against his leg. “Come back when you’re done.”

I found the guest room nearest mine and lay her on top of the covers, remembering another time she’d stayed the night with me. She stirred around, her eyes blinking open.

“Nice digs,” she mumbled sleepily and stretched. Her pants shimmed off as she started undressing, obviously too tired to care that I stood there.

I backed up to the door, trying to be a gentleman but wanting to stay. “You need anything?”

She waved me on, but still I stood there, my eyes lingering on her exposed flesh.
Leave
, I told myself, but I couldn’t yet. Her face was too soft, probably from being tired, and she looked beautiful.

She turned to pull back the covers, and my heart thundered when I got a glimpse of her pink lace panties.

I groaned. I knew exactly what she tasted like under those panties. Hot and wet and sweet as honey.

Get the fuck out
, I screamed in my head. But, of course, I didn’t.

Is it bad I was tempted to slide under those covers with her? That I wanted to press my naked body against hers and forget our past. That I wanted to claim her with my mouth and wipe all memories of Spider’s kiss away. But I wanted so much more than just a measly kiss.

Hadn’t it always been like that with her? Hadn’t she always consumed my dreams, my deepest desires?

Because right now my body was aching for hers. I wanted to talk dirty to her and taste her core until she came, her hands fisted in my hair. I wanted to get behind her and teach her that my cock was the only one she’d ever need. Never Spider. Never that stupid ass Jacques.

But I couldn’t do that.

I’d nearly told her the truth about some things out in the snow. I’d been so tempted to let it out, to spill my guts to her. Good thing I hadn’t. I didn’t need complications right now.

She sighed as she burrowed into the covers, and I wanted to hear her voice once more.

“Dovey?” I said, and she answered me with a soft snore.

I sighed, wanting to stay with her, which was completely irrational.

But, Dad was waiting for me, and I couldn’t put this off any longer.

I went back downstairs, leaving her.

He was sitting by the fire in his study, sipping on what looked like bourbon and coke.

First thing he said was, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here on Monday.”

Yeah. I sat on the brown leather couch near the fire. “You’re not around much anyway, so it’s not like I expected it. I see the sitting service more than I see you.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I missed him, and I was angry at his absences.

Enough is enough.

He rubbed his forehead, drawing attention to his tired face and the black circles under his eyes. Her death hadn’t been easy on either of us. He’d loved her.

I scratched on the leather, making little lines. “Did you ever cheat on Mom?”

He blanched. “Never.”

“You slept in separate beds for as long as I can remember…” I drifted off. I don’t know why I’d even asked. “It must have been hard for you. Not having a real wife. Of course, if Cara had lived, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We’d be a happy family of four.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Cara was not your fault.”

Yeah, right. Same old conversation. “I’m your son. You’re supposed to say that.”

He stood and paced, stopping to stare down at a photo of the four of us. “Yes, she’s gone, but she’d have ridden her bike out into the road if her mother had been here, too. Or me. She was strong-willed, just like you, and she loved to be outside. When you’re a parent, you’ll know you can’t keep your eyes on them constantly. Perhaps it’s on me because I never put that gate up at the end of the drive. I’d been talking about it for months, but I got busy…” His voice tapered off, and I startled at the flicker of guilt I caught.
Is that what I sounded like?

He continued. “Perhaps it was Mary-Carmen’s fault for buying the bicycle or leaving her with a kid that didn’t understand the responsibilities. But most of all, the man who drove that truck was speeding. That’s what you should remember.”

“He hit her because I wasn’t
there.”
My hands balled up. “You don’t really blame yourself, do you?”