Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) (26 page)

“Yes. I’ll help you, I will. I’ll make her
want you more than me. I’ll be a right cunt to her, make her hate me. She’ll be
crying on your shoulder and begging for your forgiveness.”

“How will you do it?”

“I’ll humiliate her, tell her she can’t
suck dick, I’ll even tell her she makes me soft, whatever you want.”

“Do it in front of other people. Totally
humiliate her. Make her cry like she made—” he cut himself off, probably going
to say like she’d made him cry. “If you do that, I won’t shoot Jasper.
Or
your
dogs.”

My face dropped, what he’d done the other
day returning. “Where are my dogs?” I asked, worried he’d hurt them.

“The dumb mutts are out back.” He snorted.
“They’re not dead, just ate some sedated meat I threw them.”

“If they—”

“Are fine, but they won’t be if you don’t
follow through on your promise.” He smiled. “Actually, maybe I’ll shoot them
instead of Jasper. I wouldn’t go to jail for that. No one will care but you—”

“And my dad.”

“Yeah, you like to use him for leverage,
but my dad’s just as tough as that psycho bastard you’re related to. In fact,
he’s more powerful, cos he has men who’ll gut your father on his orders. So,
once you get outta hospital, you’ll do as I fuckin’ say.”

Another
hit came down on my head. A second later, I wished it had knocked me out as
Happy Meal started kicking the living shit out of me.

***

I woke up to bright hospital lights. I
lifted my arm to cover my eyes, grunting as someone grabbed it.

“Thank Christ!” my father said, his voice
cracking. “I wuz terrified you weren’t gonna wake up.”

He rose from a chair, looking both upset
and happy, the latter probably because I was still in the land of the living,
although I felt like death warmed up. He bent over and pulled me into a gentle
hug, treating me as though I was fragile, probably afraid he would hurt me, and
I did feel pain, but not because of him. My body ached all over, the beating
Happy Meal had given me making me feel like I’d been hit by a tanker.

He let go of me a moment later. “Who did
this to you?” he asked, his face hardening. I didn’t even have to imagine what
he would do if I told him it was Happy Meal.

He’d kill him.

“A burglar,” I lied, not wanting him doing
time for murder—or put in danger, because Happy Meal’s father would definitely send
men after him. “He attacked me when I entered the house. Are the dogs all
right?”

“Those useless mutts can’t guard shit,” he
grunted, sounding like he didn’t realise they’d been sedated.

Jasper pushed through the room’s double
doors, pulling my attention away from my father. He clumped across the lino
flooring, stopping next to my bed. He was dressed in ripped jeans and a black T,
with a leather jacket partially hiding his fat gut.

“Good to see you awake,” he said, looking
like I was in hospital for a papercut, not a severe beating. “What happened?”

“A burglar,” my father answered for me.
“Dante walked in at the wrong time.”

Jasper frowned. “Where were the dogs?”

“Sedated,” I replied.

My father’s head snapped to me, his
expression surprised. “They were?”

“Yeah. The burglar told me he drugged them
with sedated meat right before he kicked the shit outta me.” I grinned, even
though it hurt the right side of my face. “Though, I busted one of his teeth,”
I lied, not wanting it to look like I’d just laid there, taking Happy Meal’s
crap. “And I could’ve beaten the bastard if he hadn’t been armed. At least I stopped
him from stealing our stuff.”

“So, you can identify him?”

I shook my head, but stopped as quickly as
I’d started, the movement hurting like a motherfucker. “He wuz wearing a balaclava.
Other than bein’ a massive cunt, I couldn’t ID him if my life depended upon
it.”

My father grunted, looking upset, probably
because he had no target for his bloodlust.

I indicated to my bed. “Can you raise the
back of the bed? I wanna sit up.”

He nodded, adjusting it as I pushed into a
sitting position.

“Did he break anything?” I asked, my torso
killing me. There were lots of bandages underneath my hospital gown, as well as
around my head.

“You have a fractured rib,” my father replied.
“But it wuz the bang to your head that concerned the doctor the most.”

“What ’bout my face?”

Jasper snorted. “You get the crap beat
outta ya and all you’re concerned ’bout is your pretty boy face?”

“It’s not pretty, it’s hot as fuck.”

My father barked out a laugh. “Not so much
now. You’re all bruised and swollen, but it’ll be fine. The doc said you’ll
heal completely.”

“Damn, I wanted a cool scar.”

A mean smile pulled at Jasper’s lips.
“It’ll ruin your modelling career if that happened.”

I shot him a glare. “I’m
not
modelling, so shut it.”

My father shook his head. “I’m glad you
didn’t go to that interview. I don’t want no boy of mine prancing about like a
girl. If you become famous, it’ll be as an All Black, not a bloody model.”

“In your dreams, cos soccer’s my game.”

My father grunted. “I knew I shouldn’t
have let your mother get you into that girls’ sport.” His face saddened, no
doubt his thoughts going to my mum.

“It’s not a girls’ sport, it’s the most
popular game in the world, and can you get me some pain relief?” I asked,
wanting to distract him, my father not having gotten over my mother’s death.

“Sure. I’ll go grab the doc, plus he needs
to check you over. You’ve been out for four hours.”

“
Four
hours?”

“Yeah, you scared the shit outta me, boy.
I even rang your
baba
and
dida
—”

I perked up. “Are they here?”

“Not yet. They’re on their way with the
twins.”

Despite the pain, I smiled, excited I was
going to see my little brother and sister, who lived with my grandparents up
north.

My father grimaced. “Yeah, smile away,
while my balls shrivel at the thought of seeing that banshee,” he said,
referring to my grandmother. “Your
baba
is gonna blame me for this, like
she blames me for every bloody thing that goes wrong.”

“You had nuthin’ to do with it.”

“That won’t stop her. I’m the root of all
evil with that woman.”

“I’ll tell her it wuzn’t your fault.”

“It won’t make a difference.” He pushed up
from his chair. “Anyway, I’ll get the doc for you.” He headed out of the room,
leaving me alone with Jasper.

Wishing I’d asked him for a drink, I
glanced around, looking for some water. My bed was only one of two in the room,
the other bed empty. On the cabinet next to me, there was a large flask of
water, along with plastic cups. I went to ask Jasper to pour me some, but
stopped at the furious expression on his face.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t
believe a word you said ’bout it bein’ a burglar.”

I grimaced at him. “You calling me a
liar?”

“Nuthin’ wuz stolen.”

“As I said, I interrupted the cunt.”

“So, he kicks the shit outta you, knocking
you unconscious, but doesn’t take anything?”

“He wuz pro’bly upset I busted his tooth.
I would’ve left too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Gettin’ your brains bashed
in has obviously affected your ability to lie, cos it sounds like total
bullshit to me. Not only that, I saw Happy Meal walking down our street the day
you were jumped.”

“It wuzn’t him.”

Jasper’s hand whipped out, slapping me
across the face.

I yelped, instantly bringing my hand to my
face. “What the fuck!” I winced, in too much pain to retaliate.

Jasper bent over me, making me raise my
arm, afraid he was going to hit me again, but instead he just glared down at
me. “If you keep tryna cover for that bastard you’re gonna be in a shitload
more pain than a bitch slap,” he growled. “And not cos of me, so stop lying and
tell me the truth.”

“It wuzn’t him.”

He yanked my arm down. “Bullshit! And I’m
gonna make that cunt pay for this, make him suffer, then I’m gonna riddle his
body with bullets.”

“Are you nuts?”

“No!” Jasper yelled making me jerk in my
hospital bed. “I’m the only sane one here. He’ll keep comin’ after you until
you’re a shell of yourself or worse,
dead
. And I
won’t
let that
happen.” He pointed a finger at my face. “So, grow some balls, cos once you’re
outta hospital, we’re gonna finish things with him.”

“No!”

Jasper stuck his face in front of mine. His
eyes were burning, anger fuelling them. “You don’t have a fuckin’ choice,
bitch. I call the shots, not you.”

“Fuck you,” I spat back, “you can’t tell
me to do shit.”

“You wanna bet?”

“What are you on? Crack? Cos you’re
delusional.”

“The only delusional one here is you,
Dante, so get your head outta your arse, cos by the end of the term, Happy
Meal’s gonna be dead and Phelia will be mine, and
you’re
gonna help me
whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not helping you start a war.”

“We’ll see ’bout that.” He turned and
stalked towards the door, the gang insignia on the back of his jacket causing
my eyes to widen. He’d been patched in, Jasper now a fully-fledged gang member...

...and a murderer.

Because the only way to become a full Skin
was to kill someone, blood now on Jasper’s hands.

25

CLARA

I tossed and turned all night, fearful of
the coming morning, knowing I would have to face Dante at school. I still
couldn’t believe we’d kissed. Even worse, I’d put my hands down his pants! If
that gang member hadn’t interrupted us, we probably would’ve had sex. The
thought in itself was horrifying, because what we’d done was bad enough without
doing more. Worse still, I had liked it. No, I’d loved it! Our kiss had been hot
and passionate, so much so that I’d gotten carried away, becoming the
aggressor. The thrill that Dante had instilled in me was beyond anything I’d
experienced. It was dangerous, scary, wrong in so many ways, yet right at the
same time ... just with the wrong person.

My alarm buzzed in my ear, snapping me out
of my thoughts. Feeling exhausted and fretful, I pushed out of bed, worried that
someone would find out what I’d done. I ambled out of my room, considering
calling in sick. The smell of whiskey instantly hit me as I entered the lounge.
My gaze shot to the Jack Daniels bottle lying in front of the wall cabinet. It
was still on its side, with half of its contents soaked into the carpet. I
hadn’t bothered to clean it up after Dante had left, too shaken over what we’d
done. I’d just prayed that his father hadn’t smelled the whiskey on Dante’s
breath. I touched my lips, the taste of whiskey from his kiss not having
bothered me. Instead, it had gotten me...

I yelled out, furious with myself for my lewd
thoughts. Here I was, a married woman, thinking about a fifteen-year-old boy in
such a lurid fashion. It was not only wrong, it was disturbing. He was a child,
one I was meant to tutor, not sexually molest.
But
... he had started
all of this, not me. He’d kept pushing and pushing until I’d snapped. And with the
way he looked, was it any wonder I’d done the wrong thing? He’d also said he’d
been with other married women.
He
was the seducer, not me, using his
looks to get what he wanted. Still, I shouldn’t have responded. Instead, I
should’ve sent him home. Now, I had to suffer my conscience, which was soaking
up misdeeds faster than the carpet had soaked up the whiskey.

I let out a shaky breath, my actions
weighing heavily on my mind ... but not as much as the possible consequences from
them. That scared me more than what I’d actually done, making me wonder whether
I would’ve had sex with Dante if there was no fallout. The thought disturbed me
even more, because I knew the answer would’ve been a resounding yes.

I walked over to the spill and picked up
the Jack Daniels bottle, taking it to the kitchen. I poured what was left down
the drain, then put the bottle into the recycling bag that was hanging on the
water-heater’s doorknob. Wiping my hand on my shirt, I grabbed the phone off
its wall holder and walked back into the lounge, needing to make sure that Dante
hadn’t told anyone. I slumped down onto the couch and grabbed the phone book, looking
for his number. Once I’d found it, I dialled through, hanging up a moment later
as his father answered. Though, the man probably wouldn’t have recognised my
voice if I had spoken, especially since I sounded younger over the phone.
People constantly asked if my mother was home, which always reminded me I no
longer had one.

I put the phone on the coffee table and
leaned back into the couch, again contemplating what I was going to do, whether
to phone in sick or turn up to work. I started concocting all sorts of
scenarios in my head, the main one starring me being escorted out of school by the
police. I went to dial the principal’s secretary, intent on calling in sick. I
needed the day off to clear my cluttered mind, and work out a way to fix what
I’d done. I also needed to build up the courage to face Dante again. I could
still see his stunned expression, shocked that I’d put my hand down his pants. Also,
the wide-eyed look on his face when we’d pulled apart wouldn’t leave my head.
It made me feel even dirtier. Or maybe I was thinking too much into it, because
he had been hard. And he definitely wasn’t inexperienced, what he’d done with
that girl in the toilets proof of that. Plus,
he’d
propositioned me.
Instead, maybe he’d liked what we’d done, just hadn’t expected the raw passion
he’d evoked. Regardless, I needed to prepare what I was going to say to him. I
had to work it out in advance, cutting down the risk of getting flustered and blurting
out the wrong thing, which was a distinct possibility around him, especially since
he had an innate ability to scramble my brain.

I put the phone back, coming to the
conclusion that I couldn’t afford to take a day off. It had nothing to do with
money, but everything to do with the fact I needed to face Dante as soon as
possible. I had to make sure he wasn’t going to tell anyone, because if he did,
I was done for. Resolute over what needed to be done, I headed for the shower
and quickly washed. Within no time, I was dressed and on my way to school,
parking in my usual spot upon arrival.

I jumped out of my Volkswagen and walked briskly
to my classroom, self-conscious that people would know what I’d done, the
adrenalin pumping through my veins heightening my senses. But despite my paranoia,
the teenagers in the hallway didn’t act any differently. Friendly hellos were
thrown my way, along with some wolf whistles, but that was nothing out of the
ordinary, just a normal day at Wera High.

Relieved, I pushed through my classroom
door, getting similar reactions from my students. No one laughed or said vile
words to me, which boosted my confidence. Because it meant that Dante hadn’t
bragged about his exploits.

“You look really nice today, miss,” Lindy
said. She was sitting behind her desk, giving me one of her shiny, metallic
smiles.

I glanced down at my clothes, realising I
was wearing a garment I usually reserved for formal occasions, something that
was far too nice to wear to school. It was a soft blue dress that cut off just
above my knees. It had a few pearl buttons, which matched my earrings. I didn’t
even remember pulling it out of my wardrobe, let alone slipping it on. I’d
dressed on autopilot, my mind more concerned with what I was going to say to
Dante than the task at hand.

“Thank you, Lindy,” I forced out, giving
her a fake smile. Although she’d said something lovely, I couldn’t be happy, the
previous night drowning out everything. Someone could tell me I’d won Lotto and
I was sure I’d feel the same way, because no amount of money would absolve my
sins.

I rounded my desk, throwing a quick glance
at Dante’s desk, finding it empty. I felt a strange mixture of relief and
trepidation, the contradicting feelings not improving my mood. I was relieved
that I didn’t have to talk to him, but worried that I
needed
to talk to
him, my future now in his hands.

Trying to ignore my escalating anxiety, I
started calling out the roll. When I got to Dante’s name, Jasper answered for
him.

“He’s in the hospital, miss,” he said.

“What? Why?” I spluttered.

“A home invasion. He wuz beaten up pretty
bad.”

“Is he all right?” I asked, now panicked
for a different reason, all thoughts of my indiscretion forgotten, only concern
for Dante remaining.

“Yeah, he’ll live. He’s just gonna be fuckin’
sore for a few days.”

“Watch your language.”

“Sorry, miss. I’m just relieved he’s gonna
be all right. He’s bloody lucky he didn’t get killed.”

“When will he return to school?”

“Next
week, I think.”

***

As Jasper had said, Dante returned to
school the following week. He walked into the classroom with a slight limp and
a slow gait. “G’day, miss, how ya doin’?” he asked, giving me a cheeky smile,
contradicting his beaten-up state. He had bruises all over his face; though
they were less pronounced than what I’d expected. I’d imagined him looking a
hell of a lot worse, especially considering he’d been hospitalised. But then
again, he’d taken off quite a few days, plenty of time for any swelling or
darker bruising to diminish and pale.

“More like, how are
you
doing?” I replied,
my concern for his health again eclipsing everything else. I had rung his
number after finding out he’d been beaten up, getting a drunk woman, her words
badly slurred. I’d pretended to be a school friend of Dante’s, asking if I
could speak to him. She’d told me I couldn’t, that he was resting up at a
relative’s place, then had hung up on me.

“Is anything broken?” I added.

“My ego, but in my defence, I wuz jumped.”

“Jumped?”

“Ambushed. Got hit across the head when I
walked through my front door. Had no clue someone wuz there. Next thing, I wake
up with a gun in my face. Though, I got a good punch in when he started beating
on me, knocked one of the bastard’s teeth out.” He showed me his pearly whites,
which were perfectly straight, a dentist’s dream. “He got none of mine.” He turned
to the class and pumped the air with a fist in a victory salute. His friends
let out a cheer, treating him like a returning war hero.

“Well, see me after class so I can give
you the work you missed,” I said, wanting to make sure he was going to keep
quiet about our ‘kiss’.

He grinned wide. “I’ll be happy to.” He slowly
headed to his desk, Jasper getting up to let him in. Dante settled behind it,
wincing as he sat down.

Phelia jumped up and shooed Jasper out of
his seat, sitting down next to Dante. She placed a hand on his arm, asking how
he was. I narrowed my eyes at her, annoyed she was touching him again, the girl
a menace. Or maybe my dislike for her was more to do with the fact she was
allowed to touch him, although I wasn’t so sure about the ‘allowed’ part, since
Dante was scowling at her.

He yanked his arm away from her hand,
wincing as he did it, the movement obviously causing him pain. She moved her
hand to his face, brushing his hair back, murmuring something to him.

He jerked his head away from her touch,
snapping, “Stop it.”

“Why are you so mad at me?” she asked,
looking confused.

“Phelia, return to your desk,” I said,
cutting off Dante’s reply.

She turned to look at me. “I’m allowed to
sit next to him.”

“No, you’re not, that’s Jasper’s desk.
Plus, you’re here to learn, not to socialise.”

“I wuz just asking Dante how he wuz and
Jasper let me have his desk.”

“Because you forced him to move, so return
to your own please.”

“But I wanna sit next to Dante, he’s my
boyfriend.”

“No, I’m not,” Dante spat.

Her head snapped around to him. “But I
thought—”

“Wrong. Just cos you sucked my cock once doesn’t
make you my girlfriend.”

The class burst out laughing, causing the
girl’s face to flare. “But you said you-you li-liked me,” she spluttered out,
looking close to tears. “And that you wanted us to go-go out together.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” she wiped her cheek, “you
said it when I vi-visited you in hospital.”

“I don’t remember you visiting me.”

“I brought you a box of chocolates.”

“I didn’t get chocolates.”

“I ate them,” Jasper piped up, looking
pleased with himself. “And what she said is true; though you were off your face
on...” He glanced at me, giving the impression Dante took something he wasn’t
supposed to. “Pain meds,” he added, no doubt lying. “Every time someone came to
visit, you gushed ’bout how great they were, and that you really, really liked
them. You even cyanided that frumpy nurse you thought wuz ugly.”

“I poisoned her?” Dante asked, looking
confused.

“No, you sung her a love song.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “That’s
serenaded
,
and you’re having me on.”

I went to tell them to stop talking, but
Jasper got in before I could. “No, you really did,” he sniggered. “You shoulda
seen her face when you ended the cy— serenade by cupping your cock, saying she
made you hard. I almost pissed myself laughing. She grilled me ’bout what you
took. I blamed it on your meds, saying you’re a lightweight.”

“I’m not.”

“She didn’t know that.”

“Whatever.” Dante returned his gaze to
Phelia. “Which means I don’t like you, so fuck off.”

She screwed up her face. “Not until you
tell me why you’re bein’ so horrible.”

“Cos I’m sick of you harassing me, and
stop ringing my damn phone. My dad said you kept calling and hanging up.”

I tensed, realising he was talking about
my calls.

“But I only called you twice,” Phelia
said.

“Bullshit,” Dante replied, his expression
disbelieving. “Just go back to Happy Meal and leave me the hell alone. He’s
your boyfriend, not me.”

Bursting into tears, Phelia grabbed her
bag and bolted for the door. She disappeared through it, making me feel bad for
her. Although I didn’t like her, Dante had gone too far, his words cruel and
over the top. I understood she was a nuisance, but he could’ve told her off in
private, rather than in front of a class full of sniggering kids. Not only
that, I felt responsible, my calls having inflamed the situation.