Devil May Care: Boxed Set (135 page)

Jacob was playing with my hair, Mike had just slapped my ass, and Adam was squeezing my boob when suddenly, before I could react, Wes appeared in the doorway. His eyes turned stormy, and he jumped forward and grabbed my arm. “Fuck off. She’s mine.”

I’m his?

My cheeks were hot. From the guys groping me or from Wes saving me? I was so flustered I couldn’t think straight, although the drinks might be helping with that. “Uh…thanks,” I managed to say as he pulled me out of the room and into the crowded hallway.

“They’re pigs. I just wanted to help you out. You all right?” He glanced at me, eyes glazed over.

He was so far gone he didn’t even recognize me.

It was enough to want me to slap him and walk away, but he was the reason why I came in the first place, and who knew how long it would take him to realize who I was. Might as well have a little fun.

“You do look hot. Not that that excuses them.”

“Thank you for rescuing me.” I smiled at him, wanting to laugh.

“Of course.” He leaned closer. “Just how would you like to thank me?” Wes brushed some of my hair back.

He’d done that earlier with me, when he hadn’t been drunk off his rocks, and it had affected me more than I should’ve let it. But now, it didn’t mean so much, and it took away from earlier too. Wes did it with all the girls. I hadn’t seen him do it to Lizzy during lunch, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t yet or that he wouldn’t in the future.

So all I did was smile at him, offering nothing else. “How would I like to thank you? By saying thank you. Which I already did.”

“So you did. Do you find my company better than theirs?”

“Yes, but that’s not saying much,” I teased.

He laughed. “You didn’t want them to touch you. Do you want me to?”

A dangerous question. One I should say no to. People here knew who we were, that we were related.

Wes tilted his head, staring at me. “You’re familiar. And cute. And you smell good.”

“All the compliments.” I grinned.

He looked me up and down. “And you look too fucking good to be at a party like this.”

I was buzzed and freaking out a little, but I hated feeling that way. I wanted to cut loose. He was flirting with me, and I wanted to flirt back, so I said, “You look pretty good yourself. I bet…” I bit my lower lip, hesitating.

“What do you bet?”

“I bet you look even better without any clothes on.”

Did I really just say that?

“You took the words out of my mouth.” Wes touched my cheek, and I leaned into his hand. “I could say the same about you.”

“Too bad I’m a prude.”

“Or else…”

“Or else I might be tempted to show you how I look without any clothes on.”

Okay. That was definitely the alcohol talking. I thought I might be slurring a little too. I never had this much to drink before. Just a few sips here and there.

“We could always get out of here,” he suggested, “but I have the feeling you won’t leave with me.”

“Nope.” I shook my head and had to hold onto his arm to keep me from falling down.

“But I also have the feeling that you’d let me kiss you.”

I held my breath and didn’t move.

Wes closed his eyes and leaned down, and then we were kissing. Even though we were both drunk, it was amazing—as he would probably say, fucking amazing—and in seconds, I felt myself getting wet. His tongue brushed against my lips, and I parted them, letting him inside, giving him more access to me and my body.

The guests, the music, the noise, all of it faded away as we made out. He was working on my neck and making my toes curl when someone started to call his name.

“Wesley? Wesley!”

Of course. Lizzy. Just my luck. I was finally giving in, having a little fun, a little spice, and she had to be the one to ruin it.

“Wesley, come on! You promised to do a line with me!” she called from a nearby room.

I pulled away from him.

He sighed and shrugged. “I’m sorry. Please wait here a few minutes for me.”

Feeling numb, I nodded. What else could I do?

Wes walked into a room farther down the hallway, and I trailed behind him. He headed straight over to Liz, who had a several shots on the table. Wes took three shots, boom! boom! boom! and then a line of coke on the countertop with Lizzy. Everyone around us cheered as Lizzy grabbed Wes and kissed him deeply. The next moment, his hands were up her shirt, and he was putting her on the counter.

I couldn’t watch anymore. I ran through the house, shoving and pushing and elbowing my way through the throng of people. At least I made it outside before I vomited. Feeling betrayed, and like a loser, I hid behind a tree and called Aunt Caro. Then I sat there and sobbed until she drove up.

Aunt Caro didn’t press me with questions, and I really appreciated that. A few blocks from my house, she said, “If you ever want to talk about what happened, you can always call me. I’ll never judge you, April. And if you need someone to get a blow to the kneecap, I know a guy.”

I was so shocked I laughed a little, but even her joke couldn’t get the images out of my head. I just watched over and over as Wes took the shots, the coke, and then Lizzy. I needed a shower. I felt disgusting, grimy, like a whore.

I hated Wesley.

But I hated myself more.

Wes

Fierce banging on my door startled me awake the next day. I cracked an eye open and looked at the clock. Seven in the morning. You had to be kidding me. It was Saturday. My day to sleep in. So what if it meant skipping breakfast? I wanted to lounge around and do nothing. Especially after such a wild time last night.

“Wesley, get up right now,” Walter bellowed through my closed door. “Your job is about to start.”

Job? What job? Oh, yeah, totally forgot about that. Damn it. Why couldn’t it start next weekend? My hangover was unreal, probably the worst I’d ever had. I barely slept.

You know what? There was an easy way out—feign illness.

“I’m awake,” I called but not too loudly and not with any gusto.

I waited until his loud footsteps weren’t audible anymore. Then I dashed to the bathroom—well, more walked there since moving too fast didn’t agree with my stomach—and rinsed with mouthwash to hide the alcohol scent on my breath.

All the way down the stairs, I coughed painfully and found Walter and Roslyn at the dining room table in front of mostly empty plates. I coughed one more time for good measure.

Walter didn’t look happy. “What’s wrong with you?” he grumbled.

Another cough. I did my best to look as pathetic and sick as possible.

“Oh no. It must be the flu. It’s been going around lately,” Roslyn said. “Wait here.” She left the dining room and returned a minute later. She gave me a single warning look—she didn’t buy it at all—but she rubbed my back and handed me a painkiller. “You should go back to bed.”

Thank you, Roslyn.

Without her, no way would Walter have bought it, but no way was I going to go to work today either, no matter what he said. I dragged myself upstairs—that wasn’t an act—and slept for another six hours. I got up, stretched, and felt a little better. Time for a shower. I felt dirty and disgusting.

As the hot water poured over me, I thought back to the party, at least to what I could remember, which wasn’t much. Most of it was a blacked-out haze. I vaguely remembered meeting an incredible girl…and fucking Lizzy. Why the hell did I do that? I didn’t want her, never wanted her. Damn.

Well, it was in the past, and I couldn’t do anything about. It was a one-time mistake, and it sure as hell wasn’t ever going to happen again. God, she was going to be all over me even more now when I went back to school. I’d just have to put her in her place somehow without alienating her. Should be a piece of cake. Not.

At least I had the day off. That was going my way. And the painkiller and sleep definitely helped my hangover. What could I do?

Better not sneak out. If Walter found out, he’d be pissed, and while I wasn’t scared of him, I didn’t want to get on his bad side. He was a bastard as it was. So that meant something inside the house.

Ah, I knew it! I’d go mess with April and see if she’d watch a movie with me.

I knocked on her door. After a long moment in which I wondered if she wasn’t in there, the door opened.

“Wesley.” She didn’t sound happy.

“What happened to calling me Wes?” I asked with a grin. “Mind if I come in?”

“I do mind actually.” She stood by the door, blocking me.

What the hell? I didn’t like her tone. She’d never talked to me like that before.

“All right, fine.” I held up my hands and winked at her. “Don’t trust yourself with me alone. I get it.”

April didn’t say anything. She didn’t look pleased to see me.

“What did you do last night?” I asked, trying to figure out what was bothering her.

“Nothing special.” She shrugged and glanced away.

“Why not?”

“What did you do? Or should I be asking a different question?” She crossed her arms.

“What are you talking about?” I scratched my head. Was I being slow, or was I missing something? She sounded so disgusted, so condescending. “You didn’t go to the party last night, did you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “A party for drunks and druggies and go-for nothing—”

“Hey now.” I was getting pissed. Sure I’d told her I wouldn’t be going, but she shouldn’t be so damned judgmental, and I wasn’t going to take any shit from her, or anyone else. “You—”

“April, Wesley.” Jacqueline walked over to us from the staircase. I hoped she didn’t overhear us. Actually, who cared if she did? Her opinion meant nothing to me.

April’s did, though, which was why I was so pissed right now. Because she knew or suspected I went, and those insults were geared toward me.

“I was hoping you could run an errand for me,” Jacqueline continued.

Nope. Not a chance. I covered my mouth and coughed.

Jacqueline shook her head. She didn’t look annoyed at me, but her face wasn’t the easiest to read, and I was about to waste time in an effort to try harder to figure out what she was thinking. She handed April a piece of paper. “The both of you. Please.”

“Fine,” April said. She didn’t look at me as she walked around Jacqueline to the stairs.

Ugh, whatever. Being trapped in a car with a confusing girl was still better than painting houses while hung over.

In her car, we were silent. Didn’t matter what station April put on, I swore every single one was playing love songs. We bickered on and off the entire time we were in the store. After she paid, I grabbed all of the bags for her.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, hurrying to walk beside me.

“Not a problem.” It was so much nicer when she forgot to be mad. Still didn’t understand why she was offended though. Something obviously happened last night. Maybe she got in a fight with one of her friends. As far as I knew, I hadn’t done anything that she be upsetting her so much.

During the car ride home, she kept glancing at me.

“What is it?” I finally asked.

“Dad wants to send us on a youth mission trip,” she said in a rush.

“What the hell?” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut even though I knew this wouldn’t go over well. “Do you know how fucked up this family is?”

“You’re one to talk,” she said coolly.

Okay, now I was really pissed off. “Make a right here.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it. Take me to the car dealer.”

“Why?” she repeated.

“Because I asked you to.”

“Say please.”

I exhaled loudly. “Please.”

“I don’t like your tone.” She drove past the turn.

Seriously? She was being so childish!

“Turn around and go to the dealer, or else I’ll jump out of the car,” I threatened.

She glanced at me. “You wouldn’t.”

I put my hand on the door handle. “Watch me.”

“Fine!” April turned the car around.

As soon as she parked, I got out of the car. She didn’t follow. Good. I didn’t need a babysitter.

Mickey came out of the back as I walked inside the garage. “What can I help you with?” He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t wreck my girl already, did you?”

“’Course not.” I laughed. “Actually, I’m here for a different reason.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” He had a small oil stain on his shirt, and his jeans were worn. I appreciated the fact that he worked as hard as his workers.

Hopefully I’d be joining the ranks of those workers.

I cleared my throat. “I was hoping…do you think…can I intern here? Or work for you?”

Mickey grinned. “Did Walter send you?”

I forced myself not to scowl at the mention of my step-father. “No. I’m here because I want to be.”

“Good boy.” Mickey clapped me on the back. “And an even better answer. Yes. You’re hired. We can work out the details later.” He held out his hand.

I shook it, a little dazed that everything had fallen into place so easily. “Thank you.”

My smugness must’ve been evident in my stride back to the car, because April frowned fiercely at me as I got back into her car. “What did you do?” she asked suspiciously. “Isn’t it enough that you’re hiding a bike from Dad?”

“For once, I’m excited to talk to him.” I grinned and rubbed my hands together. “I found my own job.”

“Here?” She sounded worried, but I didn’t care. Walter wanted me to have a job. I found one that I actually wanted. No way could he try and ruin this for me. Not when I was working for a friend of his.

April drove us to the house and parked. Before we climbed out, I held up my hand. “I wanted to thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For not being completely awful.”

“That’s easy.” She laughed it off.

“Not for everyone in the house.” I nodded toward it through the car window. “Your mom’s not bad. Not sure about mine. The kids…the baby’s cool, but the boys can…”

“They’re a handful.” She laughed easily.

“That’s putting it mildly,” I muttered. “Yvonne—”

“I can guess your opinion of her,” she said dryly.

“And my opinion of your dad?”

She bit her lower lip. I doubted she was going to say anything, but then she nodded. “He’s a little controlling.”

“Little?” I snorted. Major understatement but I guessed I should be glad she realized that much.

“He’s likes orders and discipline,” she said slowly.

“Not necessarily bad things, but he takes it too far.”

I was shocked when she nodded again. Progress.

“You mentioned his anger. And his punishments,” I said. “What have they been in the past? What does he tend to dish out?”

“No food if you miss a meal, but that can used for other things too.”

I grimaced. Since I’d been in so many houses where food had been lacking, I thought that was an especially harsh punishment. “Just spend time in your room, then?”

“Oh no. You sit at the table and smell the food and watch everyone else eat.”

“That’s…” I glanced at her. Maybe I shouldn’t let on what I think about it.

“It’s cruel. Only happened to me once.”

I could trust her. I shouldn’t treat her like a spy. “What else?”

“Paddling.”

Not surprising given how fanatical he seemed.

“Repenting on the front lawn,” she added.

“Repenting?” I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“You know, wearing a sign that states your sin.”

“I…” I gaped at her and shook my head. “People do that?”

“In this household they do. P and P have to do it the most.” She shrugged.

I suppressed a shudder. “He’ll never make me do that.”

“Don’t give him a reason to, then.” She stared out her window.