My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) (31 page)

“Home sweet home.” I’m exhausted. I sit on the bed and find that it’s soft. Before I know it Becca is shaking me awake. “What?” I sound half asleep.

“It’s Sophie. She called to check on you and told me Sam’s covering your shift tonight. You don’t have to come in.”

For the first time in days I feel relieved. I sit up and push my hair out of my face. “What time is it?”

“Four.”

“What is this place?” I whisper so only she can hear.

“They’re good people.” She smiles reassuringly at me. “You want to go out tonight? Claire’s taking me to a new nightclub downtown.”

“I don’t know what I want. I think I’ll start looking for an apartment. Get a job,” I order. “It smells like cats.”

She lies down on the mattress. “You think you can get me a job at Oblivion?”

I smile a real smile. “That’d be so cool. Wayne would love you. I’ll ask.”

“This is only temporary,” she promises. “We can get a new place and move on with our lives.”

“Move on with them how? Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. That’s the beauty of it. Live a little. I’m going to go shower. Can I borrow some of your clothes?”

I shrug. “Where’s yours?”

“In your car, buried under all your crap.”

She sits on the floor and rifles through the few garbage bags I managed to bring in. Picking out a pair of black skinny jeans, she sighs. “This is a good thing. We’re starting over. Think of it as a fresh start.”

Fresh starts aren’t supposed to feel like the end.

When she’s in the shower my phone chimes.

Sophie: Kent’s here. He’s looking 4 U. OMG he looks so bad.

I don’t answer her.

Sophie: He’s talking 2 Sam.

Witch.

Sophie: She’s touching his arm.

Troll.

Sophie: He’s coming my way.

I raise my eyebrow at my phone, pretending I’m not waiting for her reply. But of course I am. And of course it doesn’t come. She wants me to text back, to engage in her game. I refuse. This is a new start; a start without Kent Nicholson.

My phone chimes again.

Sophie: Kent got arrested for beating the shit out of Wayne.

I close my eyes in agony. There goes my job. I text furiously back.

Me: Why didn’t U stop him?

Sophie: Where’s the fun in that?

Cunt.

I break down and call her.

“Hello?” she answers sweetly.

“What happened?”

“Kent, the sexy beast he is, came in here looking like hell. Drunk off his ass, bloody, and with a broken heart. He wanted to know where you were, so he started to hassle the waitresses, specifically Samantha. She went and got Wayne and Wayne tried to get him out of Oblivion, but Kent wasn’t having it. He wanted to know where you were. I think he thought you were hiding. Anyway, the man was pissed. He begged me for your phone number. How come the man doesn’t have your phone number?”

“And then what?”

“And then,” she drawls. “Kent beat Wayne up. Like bad. Like Wayne’s going to the hospital bad.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Sophie laughs. “You are killing him.”

“You know my life isn’t a soap opera for your enjoyment, Sophie.”

“Oh yeah? I’m texting him your phone number. I’m sure he’ll be even more pissed by then.”

“Sophie, no!”

“Oops,” she says, sounding more evil and less apologetic. “Too late.”

“How do you have his number?”

“He gave it to me so I could give you his. Now that you two aren’t an item maybe he and I can start talking? This is my chance. I rarely miss an opportunity.”

“Be my guest.” I refuse to acknowledge her betrayal. She wants a reaction. What did Kent say about her? I still can’t remember. Somehow I feel like this was her plan the entire time. That’s why she called Kent that night at Sam’s, why she puts me in his path, and why she made it so I was in Trevor’s arms when Kent came home. She didn’t want me to have Kent. She wanted to have Kent. “I hope you enjoy the couch. You know, the same one he fucked Sam on, and every other girl before her. The same one he’s going to do you on. I bet you think you’re different.”

“I am. You’re not, though. He told you so last night. I bet you thought because you finally got Kent to notice you, you were somehow different. Well guess what, little Miss Raina, you’re just a whore like all the rest of them. Gotta go. It’s crazy here at Oblivion.”

There’s a new knife stuck beside Kent’s. They’re both twisting, cutting, slicing apart. This one doesn’t sting as much as Kent’s. I’ve never been a fan of pain, though, and right now I am writhing in it.

I head back to the car and start grabbing my things, managing to bring most of them in before the sun sets. We’re not in the best neighborhood, and there’s a man across the street watching me as if he knows I’m dragging my panties across the lawn in garbage bags. Creep. Men are such creeps, I think, searching for my sheets. I watched Becca rip them off the bed and know they’re in here somewhere. When I find them I make my queen sheets fit the twin bed as best as I can. I find my pillows and stack them up, and then drape my quilt so it falls slowly over the bed. There. Now it looks like home, if I can ignore the cat in my windowsill and the smell of cigarette smoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Becca inquires, coming in and drying her hair with a towel. “What’s wrong now?”

I imagine my face is pinched. “Kent got arrested. Sophie, the good friend she is, informed me thus.”

“Do I even want to know what for?”

“No, but I can guarantee you I don’t have a job anymore.”

“What did he do? Go there looking for you? He told me to get you away from him. What could he possibly want?”

Can’t be me. I’m not different. “Who knows with him?” I want to know. I want to know everything Kent Nicholson has to say.

Becca purses her lips. “What are we going to do? You need to talk to your boss.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” I’d rather not face him after Kent. Embarrassment moves through me. I can picture him on one of his rampages, roughing everyone up to get to me. And for what? He doesn’t need me. He wants me. He’s a spoiled brat who wants something he can’t have. “Jackass,” I mutter. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe you can get your old job back?”

“I’ll check.” She sits on the floor and grabs my purse, coming away with my hairbrush. “You look like shit.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better. What would I do without your kind words?”

“You’re always such a smart ass.”

My heart twinges. “You know what? I will go out. I’m going to get shitfaced and forget he ever existed.”

Becca smiles at herself in my compact. “Not too shitfaced.”

I am determined to forget Kent tonight. Tomorrow night is a different story. I’ll probably have to do it all over again. The idea exhausts me, but I don’t see another choice at this point. Is this what Kent did as he tried to forget Willow?

Becca’s applying the final touches to her face when I close the door behind me, showered and damp. She’s stunning, with green rimming her eyes and bright red lips. She looks beautiful and dangerous.

“Do my makeup too?” I ask, sitting down with my towel wrapped around me. She makes me beautiful and dangerous too. “Are you going home with anyone tonight?”

She smirks. “I don’t know. We’ll see how the night goes.”

“How do you give a man a piece of you knowing he doesn’t care about it?”

“I’m not giving him anything. He’s giving a piece of him. It’s really not that serious. You’re not giving men anything unless you want to.”

“It’s unsafe.” I gave so much to Kent when we had sex. I couldn’t imagine giving that to another man.

“That’s why you always have condoms. Don’t fall for their shit.” She starts mimicking male voices. “
It feels better without it. I’m too big. It’s not going to fit. I’ll pull out, I promise
. Never fall for that last one. They never pull out.”

I laugh at her. “How could you?”

“Trust me, some women do. Did you and Kent use protection?”

I look down at my hands. “Yes.”

“Condoms?” she checks.

“Yes.”

“Every time?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. At least he had enough sense to do that. Now get dressed. You can’t even tell you’ve been crying for the last twenty four hours.”

I stick my tongue out and pick through my clothes. My phone starts to ring on the bed. Becca looks at me and I look down. It rings again while I’m putting on a pair of shorts. I put on a cute white top and then rummage through my stuff for my pair of wedges. I comb my hair and tie in a ponytail. The entire time we ignore my ringing phone.

“Leave it here,” Becca orders when I reach for it. “We’ll stick together tonight. You won’t even need it.”

I peek at it. Ten missed calls. Ten new messages. I can’t see who they’re from on my way out but those ten missed calls haunt me. We meet Claire in the living room.

“Taxi’s almost here,” she announces. “Let’s pregame. I don’t have money to waste on ten dollar shots.”

I raise my eyebrows but take the proffered shot of tequila.

“That’s why you get men to pay for it for you,” Becca points out. “I’m sure Max won’t mind.”

“Max won’t mind what?” a deep male voice wonders.

I turn around and spot a large muscled mass of a man. My jaw drops at his size. He’s huge. His buzz cut and kind brown eyes offset his strong jaw and handsome face. He smiles at my shock. He wraps Becca in a bear hug. She makes a strangled face and pats his back awkwardly. I’m probably next, so I shimmy around to the bottle and pour myself another shot. I don’t want a bear hug from a man right now.

“Nothing,” Becca assures him. “Max, this is my sister Raina. Rain, this is Max. My ex-boss.”

“Nice to meet you,” I mumble. I can see tattoos tracing his massive neck and words on his knuckles.

He grins at me, a wide sweet smile. It confuses me. A man this large should probably be growling and snapping his teeth. Not smiling sweetly. “The Raina O’Connor. Your sister’s been talking about you since I met her. She’s a cutie,” he says, nodding at Becca, who agrees with a nod of her own. “You’d better watch her tonight. I hear that club’s for the tougher crowd.”

“I’m tough,” I argue, indignant.

“You’re cute. That’s what you are. The men there aren’t going to want a kiss on the cheek and chaste dance. Maybe you should stay home.” He reaches for Claire and plants a huge sweet kiss on her lips. “Are you going to miss me, babe?”

She looks up at him, completely and utterly in love. “Like crazy, baby.”

I look away and take another shot. Their love is torture.

“So yay on hanging out with me tonight?” Max reaches over and taps my shoulder with his meaty hand. Beside him Becca and Claire are trying not to laugh. “I’m going to go get a new tattoo. You want to come? My treat.”

I gulp. “A tattoo?”

“Yeah. Let’s toughen you up.” He grabs my hand. “Come on, sweetheart. We’re going to go get a tattoo.”

“Becca,” I whine.

“I love you, baby. We’ll be home later tonight. Be safe and have fun,” Max calls over his shoulder.

Becca and Claire are too busy laughing at me to be much help. Max scoops me up and suddenly I’m in his arms. I fell weightless in his grip. He opens the door with one hand and marches me over to a large black 4X4. The entire time he’s grinning down at me. I am so confused I can’t think straight.

“Put me down,” I order sternly. He sets me down immediately. “Did the girls put you up to this?”

“They think you need something to take your mind off of whatever’s got you all whacked. Rebecca trusts me, so who better to take you to get your first tattoo?”

“I don’t want a tattoo.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the friendly giant. “I want to get drunk.”

“Becca’s like my sister. So you’re like my sister. I know you don’t have a dad, or brothers, or any men in your life to take care of you so I’m going to do that. You’re not going to that club to get drunk and put yourself at risk. You’re too sweet. Becca and Claire can handle it. We both know you can’t.”

Who does this man think he is? “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Please come with me? It’ll be fun. Bec’s worried about you. I care about her. I don’t want her to be worried.”

For some reason he makes me cry. Maybe because I think he does care for Becca and I don’t know a single man that cares for me.

“Don’t cry,” he begs. “I can’t stand it when girls cry.”

“How about this? We wait for them to leave and then I go back inside and cry all night. Trust me. I’m going to do it anyway. You may as well let me do it in peace.”