Consumed (31 page)

“I ruined the dress.”

He
did not
just say that. I look at Blade, his face is unreadable, but he embodies anger just by the way his body becomes tensed. I open my mouth to speak—to tell him that Seth is lying, that he didn’t ruin the dress and he’s just trying to get a rise out of him, but Blade’s angry growl forces me to clamp my mouth shut. “You motherfucker!”

Before Blade has the chance to approach Seth, Jackson is pushing on him, trying to drive him away. Seth steps forward and I throw myself at him. Underneath my hands his muscles are tense and ready to go.

“Relax,” Jackson shouts while Blade thrashes against him.

Jackson can easily control Blade. He’s not bigger than Seth, but he is a hell of a lot bigger than Blade. Innocent bystanders walk by quickly, unable to peel their eyes from our predicament. We have to get out of here. Someone is bound to call the cops any second now. I don’t know much about Seth’s tournament, but I do know a fight of any kind won’t sit well with them.

“Let’s go,” I hiss at Seth, pulling on his arm. He takes no notice of me and so I elbow him in the ribs.
Still nothing
. I elbow him again—harder this time and he grunts, finally giving me attention. “I said let’s go.”

“C’mon, Jackson.” Seth calls offhandedly, walking around to his side of the car.

I waste no time in opening the door and climbing into the car. I need to get out of here. I can’t stomach seeing Blade’s disgusted/depressed expression for a second longer. Jackson straightens his black tee and heads back toward the car. I drop my attention down to my legs not daring to make eye contact with Blade.

“Sorry,” Seth apologizes. I look at him and he gives me a guilty, almost sad smile. “I shouldn’t have provoked him.”

“Save it. You're not sorry at all.”

Like I expected, a cocky smile tugged at his lips and I scowl at him. The back door slams and Jackson sticks his head between our seats for the third time.

“Can you believe the balls on that guy? Jesus. He was gonna to try and take the both of us.”

I scoff. “He wouldn’t have done anything.”

Seth quirks an eyebrow at me. Did I say something weird? 

“You’re defending him?” Jackson sneers, leaning back against the seat. “Unbelievable.”

“Shit,” Seth grunts. “Maybe he does have a magic dick.”

Jackson snickers, but I don’t find it funny at all. Not in the slightest.

“He doesn’t have a magic dick.” I spit. “You two are just being immature. Poor guy. I was trying to return his gift and make it as easy for him as I could.”

“Did he make it easy for you when he cheated on you God knows how many times?” Seth’s voice is hard.

“No, but I—”

“But nothing. You don’t owe him anything.” He runs his hand over his face, exhaling heavily. “If I wasn't in this God damn tournament I’d drop him just for using that aggressive tone with you. He’s a piece of shit. You deserve better than that.”

Something in me triggers, sending my anger meter sky-rocketing. “You mean I deserve someone like
you
? Someone who I know nothing about and has no quarrels with fucking me, but a huge issue with relationships? Yep, I got everything I deserve right there.”

After a few seconds and a few long, deep breaths I realize I might have been a little harsh. I rub my forehead, regretting everything I said. I feel sorry for Jackson. Serious talks are something that should be kept private, not shared. He must be so uncomfortable right now.

My hands and legs shake nervously all the way home. Not once do I look in Seth’s direction even when I feel his gaze on my face. When we pull up outside my house, I say a quick goodbye and slide out of the car. I’m barely at my steps when I hear another car door close. Of course he’d follow me when I’m not in the mood for his attitude. I stop walking and turn around.

“You’re not getting away with that shitty goodbye.” He calls, stalking over to me. 

“What do you wan—”

His hands circle my waist and his mouth compresses against mine, literally taking my breath away. He’s warm—he’s always warm. When he pulls away and lets me go, I almost stumble backwards. The kiss was
that
intense.

“I’m sorry for making things harder for you, but I’m not sorry for putting pressure on that douchebag.” He smiles and you’d swear I didn’t say a word to upset him. “Now I have to go to training, but I’ll be back tonight.”

Feeling rather defiant, I put my hands on hips. “What if I’m doing something?”

He flicks his brows once, cockily. “You will be.”

I arch an eyebrow. 

“Me.” He adds with a wink. “I’ll see you later.”

I watch the car from the base of my steps until it disappears from sight. Just like that the frustration I feel toward Seth is gone. All it took was one kiss and I’ve forgiven him. I’m like putty when it comes to him and he knows exactly how to mold me.

***

It’s T-minus four hours until I see Seth again and I’ve run out of things to do. I cleaned, had a shower and watched a movie. I peel myself from the couch and enter my room. A nap sounds good. I approach the bed and kick my toe on my travel bag.

“To the wash.” I exhale, picking up the bag and dumping its contents on my bed.

The first thing to fall out is one of Seth’s hoodies. He’d forgotten about it and left it on my floor. I remember stuffing it in my bag just in case Dad saw it. He didn’t and he didn’t suspect anything the next day either. Not that he would mention anything about hearing his daughter have sex... that’d be awkward. I take my phone from my bedside table and dial Seth’s number. No answer. I call my dad next. I should be able to get Seth’s address off of him—assuming he has it. Will Seth mind if I show up at his house to drop off his hoodie? Am I imposing? I can’t imagine I am after everything we went through in Concord. I know I can wait until he gets here, but I don’t want to. I want to see him.

“Hey, Olly?” Dad answers.

“Yeah Dad, it’s me. Hey, do you have Seth’s address?”

“Yep, let me get my files.”

I hear the sound of the filing cabin rattle and bang in the background. “It’s one-zero-three Promenade Way.”

“Really? Like the Promenade Way up on the hills?”

Promenade Way is a thirty minute drive and it’s slightly out of town. I’ve been up there twice and if I thought Selena’s house was amazing, it has nothing on the prestigious palaces up there.

“That’s the one. I gotta go sweety, two men are about to brawl over the rowing machine.”

“Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid and get someone to help yo—”

He hangs up.

“Love you, too.” I groan throwing my phone onto my bed.

I frown. How does Seth live on Promenade Way? I know the amateur tournament is paying him for every win, but I don’t think it’s enough to cover even a quarter of the cost of the houses up there. My curiosity is too strong to not go and take a look for myself so I slip into my pair of tennis shoes and throw a thin, white jacket on over my white tank top. I wouldn’t normally wear a pair of light pink cotton short-shorts out of the house, but the weather is quite warm today and the mere thought of wearing jeans chaffs me.

I grab Seth’s jacket, head out the door and get in my car. While I drive, I try calling him again.

Still no answer.

The closer I get to his house the more I think this is a bad idea. Seth is a very closed off person...he isn’t going to appreciate me showing up like this. But, as much as I want to turn around, I can’t take my foot of the accelerator.

Soon, I pull up in front of house one-zero-three and my mouth drops open. Surely I have the wrong address. I survey the huge, two-storey house and its beautiful dark chocolate bricks. On the second floor, there’s a small white stone balcony with small white outdoor furniture. The house looks dead quiet and absolutely peaceful. I’ve never seen a house so... breathtaking. It’s like it belongs isolated and surrounded by gorgeous, lush mazes. Forcing my eyes from the house, I grab his jacket, slip out of the car and slide my keys into my pocket. The front lawn is huge and green and I curl my toes in my shoes against the urge to run barefoot over it. There’s no fence blocking outside intruders from coming in—not that this place would have people like that, I suppose. My shoes stick to the pretty chocolate stepping tiles and past the blooming garden. I stop to look at the flowers, there are so many colors and all of them contrast well against the brown bricks.

“Can I help you?” A husky, womanly voice asks.

I jump, clenching the jacket to my chest. When I see a beautiful, mature aged woman sitting in a wide, cane chair I relax a little, but when her espresso dark eyes glower at me, the tense feeling returns.

“Hi,” I say as politely as I can. I step closer. “Does Seth Marc live here?”

“Have you come for sex?” She takes a drag of her cigarette and my attention is on the red ember that flares brightly as she does so.

What the hell kind of question is that?

“No...I'm just—” I hold up the hoodie slightly, but she cuts me off. 

“What’s your name? Tiffany? No, you look like a Natasha.”

I know I’m not imaging the slur attached to her words. I shake my head and she rises from her chair. She straightens her beautiful, caramel dress-suit and struts down the steps to tower over me.

“I’m Olivia.” I state.

“And have you come for sex, Olivia?”

My lips part as my senses and every inch of my skin flood with nervous heat. “I most certainly have not. If you let me finish what I’m trying to—”

I hold the hoodie out and she cuts me off again. “So you haven't had sex with my son?”

“No—well, I—we—wait. Did you say son?”

“I did. Seth is my son.” She flicks her cigarette onto the pretty grass and stamps it out with her heel, leaving a black mark in the otherwise perfect lawn. His mother is definitely intimidating and the more I look at her the more of Seth’s features I can see—the chocolate eyes, the height, the beautiful cheek bones. She’s swaying slightly, completely drunk out of her mind and I’m scared.

“I only came to return his jacket... that’s all.” My voice is quiet.

“And why do you have it?”

“He leant it to me when we were in Concord.” He actually left it on my bedroom floor, but I’m not telling her that. Her face falls.

“You’re the girl he’s been spending all his time with?” 

I half shrug, half nod. 

“He took
you
to Concord with
him
?”

I nod again. Tears well in her eyes and I reach out to touch her—to comfort her.

“Olivia?” There's no mistaking that voice and I take my hand back before it connects with her shoulder. It’s Seth’s and it sounds spine tinglingly chilling. He comes out of the elegant front door and towers over us from the top of the stairs. His hair is a little flat on one side and his eyes are a heavy. Shit. We woke him up. 

“Seth, I—” 

His Mom snaps her attention to him. “You took her to Concord, but you couldn’t return my calls?”

Randomly, she starts to cry that drunken, over the top cry and Seth cringes. Is this why he keeps me so separate from his home life? Because of his mother?

“You know why I don’t answer your calls God damn it, now get inside.” There’s no remorse in voice. He doesn’t care that his mother is upset. I see his chest begin to rise and fall rapidly.

“No!” She screams and then her tears dry up. Gone and all at the drop of a hat. “I’m having a chat with my new friend here. Come,” She extends her hand to me. “Let’s go inside and have a drink.”

Seth tenses and I know I’m not welcome here. I politely decline her hand. “No thank you, I’m fine. I’m just here to return his jacket.”

“And you’ve had enough.” Seth adds on the end.

“You’re going to tell me what to do? After everything I’ve done for you and your sister?”

Seth licks his lips agitatedly. He doesn’t seem to like what she’s saying, but he doesn’t want to correct her in front of me. His mom hunches over a little and clenches her mouth. I think she’s going to puke. I step forward and place a hand on her back, her body rocks with heaves underneath me. 

“Go home, Olivia.” He almost growls it at me and I take a step back, fighting against the urge to clench my chest. Touching his mother seems to have offended him. His voice isn’t polite or caring. It’s rough, hard and dangerous.

“But she’s—”

“I said go fucking home!” He snaps.

His voice is sharp and cold, stabbing me in the stomach like a knife. Something prickly twists in my chest and I drop his jacket on the ground and turn away. My feet move as quickly as they can as I storm to my car, hoping to appear more pissed off than heartbroken. I throw myself into the driver’s seat and speed off, leaving the sound of screeching tires behind me. A few feet down the road and my chest heaves as sadness chokes me, but I don’t stop driving… not until I pull into my driveway.