Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1) (2 page)

I nodded, conveying my thanks with a quick peck.

Two hours in a darkened theater had helped clear my head, but when we got back to his truck, I dreaded going home.

“Let’s go back to my place. I can always take you home later.” Justin started the truck.

“Thank you,” I said, not giving a damn about curfew.

It was a short drive from the theater to where he lived with his aunt and uncle. His mother had dropped him off there when he was six and never returned. They’d taken him in, but lately they’d been riding him pretty hard. Always on his case about breaking curfew or his slipping grades. Justin never had seen the value in school.

I tilted my head the second we pulled into his driveway. “What is that about?” I asked, eyeing the pile of boxes on the porch. I returned my focus to Justin, who killed the ignition. Even in the dark I could see his face crumple and his Adam’s apple bob up and down slowly. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and if it had been brighter in the cab of the truck, I would’ve seen moisture hit his eyes.

“No fucking way,” he said and jerked the truck door open, stomping to the front door.

He kicked a pile of boxes out of the way and shoved his key in the front door’s lock. The porch light illuminated his shock when he’d turned it three times and it didn’t work.

“What’s going on?” I asked, gently touching his forearm.

He didn’t answer, instead he pounded on the door.

I held my breath as I heard the lock click and then watched the door slowly open. His uncle stood with his arms crossed in a pair of blue flannel pajamas and his aunt sat on the stairs behind him, her hair disheveled and her eyes red. Normally this is where I’d make small talk, but the lump in my throat didn’t allow for it.

“Uncle Kyle?” I’d never heard Justin’s voice so shattered, so vulnerable.

His uncle shook his head. “We told you, Justin. You had one last chance. You break our rules one more time and you’re done. And you had
one
thing to do tonight.
One
. To stay here and prove to us that you were capable of being part of this family.”

Justin took a step back, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

The look in his eyes, complete and utter hurt, forced me into action. “Mr. Hobbs, it was my fault. I called him in a panic tonight. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”

“He did,” his uncle cut me off, his tone sharp. “He’s known for months now that we weren’t going to stand for this much longer.”

I swallowed hard. I knew Justin had stayed with his friends on occasion for the entire weekend without checking in, even got caught drinking a few times, but what teenager hadn’t? I never thought they would kick him out over it. I looked down, surveying the boxes. Some of them weren’t even taped up. His clothes were wadded and tossed in there like they’d been packed in a hurry. “It was my fault,” I said again.

His aunt sighed from the stairs but remained silent.

“No, Blake. It wasn’t. Justin knew the consequences of his actions tonight. He has disrespected us for the last time.” He fixed his gaze on Justin. “You hear me, boy? You’ve been so ungrateful after everything we’ve done for you, and I’ve had it. Take your stuff and get out of here.”

Justin’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to get any words out. “Where am I supposed to go?”

My chest tightened. They were the only family he had left.

“Why don’t you go to one of those deadbeat friends of yours? The ones who are so much more important to you than us.” His uncle shut the door.

The sound the lock made could’ve had a microphone next to it. The click was so final.

Justin turned and sank to the porch, his head in his hands. I sat next to him, squeezed between his tall, lanky frame and a stack of boxes. After several agonizingly long minutes with nothing but our breath coming out in cold huffs, he looked at me.

Lost and broken. That was the only way I could describe his eyes.

“I’ll make my parents let you stay with us. This was all my fault,” I’d said and placed my hand on his back.

He’d shook his head, the weight on his shoulders sinking them lower around his frame. “No. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Justin’s fist came down on the kitchen counter again, the sound snapping me to the present.

“How selfish can you be, Blake?” He glared at me. The look was so different from the broken eyes I’d seen that day five years ago. And though my heart shattered all over again for the boy who had lost everyone in his life, my anger over the word
selfish
burned my sympathy to ash.

Instinctively my mind conjured up scenarios in which I too had sacrificed things for him over the years. Like the time I’d used the money I’d saved for a down payment on a newer car to bail him out of jail because he’d neglected to pay three speeding tickets. How I never forgot his birthday and had to continuously remind him of mine. Or the fact that for years I had tried my hardest to patch things between him and his family, and when that didn’t work, I’d done everything in my power to make him happy every day since.

“If you feel that way about me, maybe we really shouldn’t be together,” I said, my voice cracking.

Justin’s eyes went from slits to as wide as saucers. He opened his mouth but shut it quickly. He looked me up and down. There he was, the broken boy. And again, I was the cause for his pain. Guilt clenched my stomach, but the battle between us seemed never ending.

“You want to break up?” he asked, his voice softer.

“I want us to make a new life here.” I sighed. A life without the constant, exhausting fighting and making up we did.

“You want to leave me over this?” Justin was back to practically growling. “You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve got. I can’t
live
without you.”

“You’re not even willing to move two hours away for me. You obviously could live without me, Justin.” I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop the tears. I’d been contemplating this for a while now. We’d been clashing more and more, the once easy camaraderie we had when we were kids faded with each passing day.

I heard a small click of metal and returned my gaze to him. My heart stopped as if I’d fallen through a frozen lake.

He had the tip of his pocket knife pressed against the soft part of his wrist.

“What are you doing?” My stomach plummeted like the floor had disappeared beneath my feet.

His eyes were wild as they locked on mine. “Live without you?” he screamed. “I
won’t
live without you, Blake. Won’t!” He glanced down at the knife and flexed the hand holding it. He hissed as the blade nicked his skin and blood slowly welled from the cut.

“Stop it!” I yelled, rushing to him. I gently grasped his forearm and tugged away his hand. I held my thumb over the wound, his blood warm and slick against it. I used the end of my shirt to wipe the blood away, thankful the cut wasn’t deep. Cold fingers clutched my spine and icy pinpricks made my skin tighten.

“You see what you do to me?” He yanked his wrist away and held it to his chest. “You can’t leave me, Blake. I’ll die without you.”

Three Years Later

MY CHILDHOOD HOME
smelled somewhere between chocolate chip cookies, freshly baked cinnamon rolls, and a hint of something spicy. I walked through the entryway, allowing the familiar scents and sights to soothe the anger pulsing inside me.

Justin had forgotten about me. Again. He’d promised to take me out on my lunch break since it was the first day of a new semester. I’d waited on campus half an hour. He hadn’t even called.

I heard Mom in the kitchen and I turned down the hallway. She stood in front of the stove stirring a huge pot of homemade pasta.

Everyone said my mom and I looked nearly identical—with long brown hair and the same dark brown eyes—except for our height. She was a foot shorter than me and often was mistaken for my sister as opposed to my mother. I gave her a side hug. “Smells great.”

“Thanks, honey. I figured after classes you’d head over here since you never keep any real food at that apartment you insisted on renting.”

“That apartment has the sweet perk of being right across the street from campus.” In fact, before heading over here I’d walked home to let my English bulldog, Hail, outside and then grabbed my car. After the blow-off by Justin, I craved Mom’s company and comfort food. That and she was right about the “no real food” comment. All I had at my place was turkey and crackers. I seriously needed to go to the store, but I’d worked all week.

Mom scraped the pasta from the skillet into a large pale-green bowl and set it on the table. She returned for the bread as I grabbed our plates. She filled them before she sat down.

“It’s not that I’m not grateful you decided to go to college closer to home,” she said, handing me a full plate, “but I really wish you would’ve at least stayed with me. Think of all the money you could save.”

I sighed, shoving a huge bite of pasta into my mouth. This was a commonly repeated conversation, but I never budged. “Do you feel like you don’t see me enough? Because I’m over here every week.”

“Yes, here or with Justin. You never go out and do anything else.”

“I work.”

Mom stirred her pasta. “Sure, you’re really living it up.”

“So are you upset that I’m over here too much or too little? Because it sounds like both.”

“Neither, honey. I’m trying to express the need to explore things outside of your norm, but I’m not sure Justin would ever let you do that anyway.”

Mom usually hit the mark closer than she ever realized. I’d never told her the real reason I’d decided to attend Oklahoma University instead of Tulsa. That the threat Justin made on his life had made my decision not to move. But he didn’t control everything I did; I simply didn’t have much time between studying, classes, work, and him.

“Anyway,” she continued, taking a sip of her iced tea, “how are your classes looking?”

“Great. I’m finally getting into the upper level meteorology courses. I’m really excited about this semester.”

“And I’m guessing since you’re here, Justin didn’t meet you for the date he’d promised?”

I huffed, making a mental note to stop divulging all my plans to her in the future. “No, Mom. He didn’t. And
I’m
guessing you bet on that, since you cooked enough food for me as well.”

She glanced down at her plate. “I told you not to fall in love with that boy.”

Those were the first words out of my mother’s mouth after she’d met Justin all those years ago. Her opinion of him hadn’t changed.

“Where is all this coming from?” I asked.

“Nowhere. It’s the start of a new semester for you, and each time you start something new I have the hopes that you’ll
experience
something new. I’m your mother. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you going through what I did.”

I pressed my lips together. My father had cheated on my mother after years of struggling with their marriage. Justin had been my rock during that time, allowing me to cry into his shoulder, making me laugh when no one else could. The comfort of that stability had vanished over the last three years, but the memory conjured up the evidence that those feelings were real at one point.

“I am happy, Mom,” I said, smiling in an attempt to reassure her.

“Are you really?”

I swallowed the piece of garlic bread in my mouth harder than I’d meant to. Sometimes I swore the woman could zero in on the days I was questioning my relationship better than a heat-seeking missile. I don’t know how she managed it, but I knew it wasn’t something I wanted to get into. Ever.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ve got to get back to campus,” I said, standing quickly and kissing her on the cheek.

“Anytime, honey,” she said.

I closed the door behind me, hoping the next time I returned she’d let the subject drop. I was grateful I had a mother who cared and was perceptive to my moods, but that didn’t mean I wanted to defend my relationship at every meeting. And lately, defending my choices when it came to Justin was becoming harder and harder.