Control You (16 page)

“So, where am I taking you?”

“Calmount Apartments,” she answered as I unlocked my car doors.

When we climbed in, I cast a quick glance at her wrist in the dome light, and noticed the redness and slight swelling. Gritting my teeth together, I cut my eyes to the dash. Craig was going to get one hell of a beating when I got back.

When I started my car,
Wasteland
by 10 Years blasted through the speakers. I didn’t bother to turn it down. Paige didn’t seem to mind and I needed to blare some music right now. If not, I might have her wait in the car while I ran back to the house and did the inevitable.

After we drove a little while, I turned down the stereo and glanced at her. “You going to give me directions or what?” I grinned. She laughed and started naming off turns for me.

It was nearly midnight when we pulled into the parking lot of Calmount Apartments. I left the engine to my car running and turned the music down all the way. Neither one of us moved. We just sat in silence for a while, staring out the windshield.

“Thanks for the ride,” she whispered. “I’ll have Blaire or someone give me a ride back to pick up my car tomorrow. Please don’t tell Craig you gave me a ride home. I’m going to say one of my friends picked me up.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, not liking what she was asking of me, but agreeing to it anyway. “Okay.”

I didn’t care about lying to Craig about things; that didn’t bother me. What bothered me was that it seemed as though she was scared to find out what would happen if he knew I’d been the one who’d brought her home. A thought occurred to me then, one I didn’t like.

“When you said he hadn’t done anything like this before, were you lying?” I stared at her, waiting for an answer. I always knew Craig was wound a little tight, but I also knew he had one mean ass jealous streak. That was part of the reason he hated me so much.

He always seemed to resent the way his father cared so deeply for me and my situation. Two years after my parents’ death, he’d told me I needed to stop playing the pity card, snap out of my drug-induced haze, and grow the fuck up. Yeah, that didn’t happen.

“Nothing like that, no,” she muttered. Her words didn’t comfort me any. In fact, her tone seemed to have left a lot unsaid. “He’s gotten angry and jealous before, but nothing like that. Like I said, I think he just had too much to drink.”

I thought back to the things he’d said to me, how he mentioned he’d already told her more than once to stay away from me. Shit. And here I’d been instigating things with him the entire night when it came to Paige, because I knew it was getting under his skin. He was right when he’d said I’d been part of the reason this had happened to her tonight. A lump rose in my throat at this realization.

“Well, if it’s worth anything to you, I’m sorry for my part in this whole thing tonight.”

“You didn’t do anything. It was me.” She dropped her eyes to her lap, and reached out to grip the handle of her door.

My jaw tensed. I wanted to tell her not to blame herself for his fucked-up actions, but her cell phone started going off. She flipped it over in her lap and pushed a button to silence it while letting out a sigh. Her muscles had gone rigid and I knew who’d called.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, but did look up from her phone to meet my stare. “Yeah.”

“What are you planning on doing? You gonna avoid him for a while or break up with him?” I didn’t know why I’d asked. Okay, so maybe I did. There was a sick sense of wonder fluttering through my mind. I wanted to know, because I wanted her to myself. It was as simple as that.

Her doe-like eyes shifted to meet with mine, and I noticed the glistening tears waiting to fall within them. “I don’t know yet. Is that stupid of me?”

Telling her a flat-out yes would have been the easy thing to say—the selfish thing—but it wasn’t what she needed to hear. It was what she
thought
she needed to hear. Her mind was in a crappy place right now and telling her that would only make her doubt the reasons behind it. I’d been through this before with Eva, so I knew exactly what needed to be said, even if I didn’t want the words to spill from my mouth.

“I think you need to take time to think about everything that happened tonight and decide the answer to that question for yourself.”

Her lips twisted into a small smile and I felt my heart skip a beat. “Thanks. I’m sorry Craig thinks you’re such a bad guy. I don’t understand it.”

He’d told her I was a bad guy? My hands balled into fists. “He said that? Is that why he wants you to stay away from me?”

“Yeah, he said you were an addict and a bad guy. For whatever reason though, I didn’t believe him from the start about you.” She smiled.

With my attitude, tattoos, and hard-around-the-edges exterior, I was surprised she hadn’t believed him. I pulled a cigarette from my pack and lit it. Cracking my window a little farther, I met her stare. “I’m glad you didn’t, surprised, but glad.”

“Surprised, huh?” The playful tone to her voice sent chills along my spine, because I was so glad to hear it.

“Definitely.”

“Well don’t be. You’re a good guy; you just look all bad-boyish on the exterior.” She opened the door, but I stopped her by placing a hand on her knee for a moment.

“Can I see your phone first?” Reluctantly, I released my grip on her knee and held out my hand.

“Umm, sure.” She passed her cell to me with a questioning look.

Dialing my number, I pressed send and called myself quickly, then handed her phone back. “There, now you’ve got my number and I’ve got yours. If he gives you any shit like that again, you call me and I’ll come take care of him. I promise.”

Her eyes remained steadily on mine as a slow, tiny smile formed on her face. I could see something shifting in her eyes, but I had no clue as to what it meant or even what it was—relief, comfort? “Thank you.”

She closed my car door and I watched her walk away, waiting to see if she would turn around for one last glance. She did, just as her feet hit the sidewalk, and I felt an adrenaline rush from hell just from that simple look.

I waited until I saw her enter her apartment before I put my car in reverse and backed out of the spot we’d been sitting in. Cranking up the newest Seether song I’d downloaded the other day, I started toward Craig’s place to do what should have been done before I’d left—beat the shit out of him for what he’d done tonight.

PAIGE

A full week passed. I’d worn thick bracelets the entire time to keep the ugly bruise in the shape of Craig’s handprint hidden from everyone. Lauren had taken me back to Craig’s the day after so I could get my car, because asking Blaire would have meant answering too many questions regarding why my car had been left there and why I hadn’t spent the night like planned. I couldn’t come up with a good lie, not one she would have believed anyway. Lauren, on the other hand, was a little less pushy and easier to lie to. When I told her we’d had a spat and I’d decided to hitch a ride home with someone, she didn’t question me further. Blaire would have been an entirely different story.

While I’d been hiding my nasty bruise, I’d also been avoiding Craig. He’d blown my phone up with text messages and phone calls the entire week, stating his behavior had been a mistake and to please give him a second chance.  I couldn’t bring myself to respond or answer his phone calls. I needed time to think about what he’d done and how I felt about it. The moment with Cameron standing on the back porch were I’d thought
I can’t believe this is happening, I’m not that girl
had flashed through my mind a million times. Maybe my reluctance to reply was my way of proving to myself that I wasn’t that girl, because I was taking time to think things over instead of giving in and forgiving him easily. The way I saw it—I could forgive him, but I couldn’t forget. That was my problem.

I’d managed to toss myself into creating my store to avoid thinking on the subject too much. I’d gotten the keys to the place, gone through all of my clothes—as well as Blaire and Lauren’s—and came up with a few ideas for decorating themes inside the shop. Add all of that to working at Enticing Aroma, and I felt as though my plate were a little too full. So, I’d also dropped out of school to free up some time. My parents didn’t know yet, but I figured it shouldn’t matter, because in less than four weeks, it would have happened anyway. I was merely cutting out a step to our deal early.

“You do know you’re supposed to take a break from staring at computer screens about every one to one and a half hours, right?” Blaire flopped down on the couch beside me. “It’s for like fifteen to thirty minutes or you’ll strain your eyes.”

I’d been sitting in the same spot, staring at my laptop for nearly three hours now, trying to figure out the program I’d found online for organizing your small business accounting crap. It had been a free program with loads of tutorials and forums, but I still couldn’t make any sense of it. I was a hopeless techy.

“I know. God, I’ll never figure this out.” I hung my head back and moaned. “I swear I need an idiot manual for it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this confused in my life.”

Blaire laughed. “What are you trying to do?”

“Set it up.” I glanced at her. She was dressed in her scrubs, ready to head to work—something I should be doing right now. I had to be in at four for my shift at Enticing Aroma.

“Did you download and install it properly?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it is set up.”

“No,” I groaned. “I want it to be set up with all the pretty columns labeled with stuff I know I’ll need to input stuff into.”

“Why? You aren’t planning on opening for a while.” She grinned.

“Because, I want this part done with.”

Blaire patted my arm and then walked to the kitchen. “Think about your theme and prices first. Decide where you’re getting all your hangers and stuff. Heck, pick out a name for the place before you melt your brain trying to figure out the accounting aspect of it. Better yet, hire someone to do that part for you.”

She was right. There were so many other details—major details—I needed to be worrying about first. I just wanted to start this place off on the right foot, and I figured organization was the best way to do that. Maybe I needed to be organized in other areas first though. I exited the program and shut down my laptop.

“You’re right.” I sighed. “I have a lot of other areas to worry about first. So, are you free to help with any of those tonight? I’m calling in my two lifelines—you and Lauren. Girls’ night in? Wine, dinner, notebooks, and pens to brainstorm with?”

She scooped her purse off the counter and grinned. “As long as it’s some good cheap wine and none of that fancy crap you get from your parents’ place. Oh, and also if there’s chocolate involved.”

“Done and done.” I smiled.

* * * *

“This is exactly what I needed.” Lauren peeled the wrapper off another piece of chocolate and popped it into her mouth.

“Me too,” Blaire agreed. “A moment to sit around in sweats, drink some wine, and eat too much chocolate.”

Continuing to flip through the magazine I’d been looking at, I took a small sip of my wine. I’d gathered as many do-it-yourself magazines as I could find after work today, praying there would be some crafty ideas I could implement into the store myself. Saving money while fixing this place up was going to be another way to prove to my parents that I could hack this entrepreneur thing, and I was all about proving myself to them with this.

“What about this?” I pointed to a picture of some tiny, narrow shelves someone had made out of thin wood and painted a pale blue. In the picture of the finished project, there were small knickknacks arranged on it. “It looks easy to make and cute.”

Blaire glanced over my shoulder at the picture. “What would you use that for?”

I crinkled my nose. “I don’t know, but I really like the worn-out, vintage look it has going on.”

“How about for displaying earrings or rolled-up belts?” Lauren suggested while unwrapping another piece of chocolate. “Get these things away from me. I’ll eat the entire bag if you don’t.”

Blaire snatched the bag from her lap and grabbed a handful. “What was the layout of the shop again?”

Leaning forward, I sifted through some papers on the coffee table and pulled out the one I’d drawn the layout on. It wasn’t the best blueprint—heck, it wasn’t even to scale—but it gave the basic idea as to what shape the store was.

“Here.” I passed it to her.

“You actually could put something like that right here, if this spot isn’t a goof up in your sketch of the place, that is.” Blaire grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a goof up. There really is an angled wall there. Behind that is where the storage room for all of my off-season merchandise will be.”

“You could line the area with those shelves and get rid of the glass cases against the wall. Shelves would be more chic,” Lauren suggested.

“Good idea.” I ripped out the instructions for how to make the shelves and placed them on the coffee table.

After flipping through a few more pages, my cell went off. I knew who was calling without having to look at the screen—Craig. He’d only called me three times today, but it was three times too many. I still wasn’t sure what to say to him after the way he’d behaved. My eyes dropped to the thick leather bracelet on my wrist. The bruises were nearly gone, but I could still picture the haunting look in his eyes and feel the emotions from the moment flicker through me when I thought about it.

“Still not talking to him?” Blaire asked. She had that skeptical gleam in her eyes that I hated.

“Nope, not yet.” I went back to flipping through the magazine in my lap.

“And all of this is because he was flirting with another girl at his party last week?” she pressed.

“Yep.” I knew she didn’t fully believe the lie, but she never questioned it as I expected either.

“What about Paige’s Closet?” Lauren muttered. Her voice was a little slurred, and I wondered how many glasses of wine she’d consumed already.