Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1) (28 page)

I
flip him off. “Fuck you, man.”

Denise
giggles. “I figured you’d be too busy working at the cookout, so you won’t
really have time to eat until later. Besides, I wanted to pay you back for the
breakfast in bed.”

“I
think this more than pays for that.” I glance at the TV. “Gotta say, you two
are the first girls I’ve met who actually like watching cartoons.”

The
girls raise their eyebrows in unison.

“You’re
kidding, right?” Adrienne says. “Who the hell doesn’t like cartoons?”

“The
dull girls, apparently.” I laugh.

“Dom’s
right,” Chris says. “I mean, I’ve had tons of girls think cartoons were too
childish and immature.”

Adrienne
rolls her eyes. “Well the hell with them. They don’t know good quality TV when
they see it.”

I’m
liking Adrienne more and more. She’s turning out to be cool people. No wonder
she and Chris hit it off so well.

I
check my phone. “It’s ten thirty, guys. I need to head out and help set up.” I
slide off the armrest. “Denise, if you wanna ride with Chris and Adri, that’s
cool.”

Denise
scrunches her face and stands with me. “Whatever. I’m going with you.”

I’m
a little taken aback, then eye Chris and Adrienne, who both wink at us.

I
love this girl.

Chapter 30

Colorful pop-up tents and the smell of burning
charcoal greet us as we arrive at Cal Anderson Park around eleven. I park my
bike with the rest of my club brothers’ and, taking Denise’s hand, make my way
to the big main tent where rows of tables and chairs are set up. Shane and
Marco are manning the grills, while Jason is setting up the cash table. Gregg,
Darryl, and Alonzo are setting up the last row of folding tables and chairs.
Charles is putting the finishing touches on a huge sign of a blown-up
photograph of Troy’s little girl, Ashley, with a handmade cut-out of her name
sprinkled in glitter underneath it. Plastered beside the photograph is a
hand-drawn goal meter. Troy is talking with some vendors, who are setting up
their tables and tents along the walkways surrounding the main area, and Matt
is helping a group of workers do a sound check on a small raised platform near
the big tent.

It’s
hard to believe that the few of us can organize something so huge. But Troy has
a lot of connections, one of the reasons he’s the club’s president.

Troy
spots me and waves. Like me, he’s wearing his motorcycle vest, which is also
covered in various patches with our club’s colors and emblem on the back. I
wave back and walk over to him with Denise in tow.

“What’s
up, Genius?” he says. We do our special handshake.

“Yo,
Wolf.”

His
eyes scan Denise, who looks amused. “And who’s this pretty lady?”

I
let go of her hand and wrap my arm around her waist. “This is my girlfriend,
Denise.” I pause, realizing it’s the first time I’ve ever referred to her as my
girlfriend. But the word just came natural to me. I look sideways at her, and
she doesn’t look the least bit offended by it. “Denise, this is Troy, but we
call him Lone Wolf. He’s the club’s president.”

“Hi,
nice to meet you.” She smiles and extends her hand.

Troy
shakes it, grinning broadly. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine.”

“So
are we pretty much set up now?” I ask, looking around the rest of the park.
People already start trickling in our direction. It’s almost eleven thirty.

Troy
rubs his chin. “Yep, just waiting on the deejay. He’s running a little late.
That’s my fault for calling him on such short notice.”

I
look to the platform, where Matt and the workers are running wires to four
speakers set up around it. “Damn, a deejay, too? You went all out.”

“What’s
a cookout without some good music, eh?” He pats me on the shoulder. “All right.
Looks like the crowd’s coming. Better get to your station.”

I
give him a thumbs-up.

He
turns and hustles toward the big
tent.

I
look to Denise. “Hey, you should walk around and check out the vendors before
the crowd comes.”

She
scans the various tents and tables and looks thoughtful for a moment. “All
right. I’ll be back, okay?”

“I’ll
be manning the raffle table.” I point out the table set next to a vendor’s
tent.

We
kiss, and I watch her wander off. I rush to the unmanned raffle table and pull
out the rolls of red and blue tickets and a locked tin cash box from under it.
As I pop up a sign on the table, I notice the vendor next to me. It’s an older
lady. Another one of Troy’s many connections. Dozens of different types of
jewelry decorate her cloth-covered table.

She
looks back at me and smiles. “Hi.” She cranes her neck and squints, perhaps
trying to get a glimpse of the name patch on my vest. “Genius?”

“Hello,”
I say politely, nodding.

“I’m
Marcy. Looks like we’re tablemates today, hmm?”

“Looks
like it.” I scan the jewelry. Each piece is unique, and they’re not something
I’d find in one of those expensive stores in the malls.

“I
made all these,” Marcy says, as though reading my mind.

“They
look nice. Different.”

Marcy
beams. She picks up a handful of pieces and shuffles in the narrow space between
our two tables. “These are my newly made ones. What do you think?” She holds
them in her hands.

I
really don’t care to look at jewelry, with the crowd starting to filter our way
as they peruse the vendors. People are already lining up under the big tent,
and I notice movement at the platform, but the crowd blocks my view. But I try
to be polite and look at her works of art, which she’s obviously proud of. One
piece catches my eye. It’s a pair of silver-studded earrings in the shape of
the
fleur de lis
.

“How
much are those?” I ask, pointing to the earrings.

“Forty.”
The corners of Marcy’s eyes wrinkle as her smile widens.

I
fish in my back pocket for my wallet and purchase the earrings. Marcy wraps
them up in tissue paper and places them in a cute little box, securing it with
a coily red ribbon. I hide the box under my table for now. I haven’t gotten
Denise a gift like this before. It’s about time I did.

* * *

By four o’clock, the club ends up raising close to
twenty thousand dollars. Kevin even surprised us all by making an appearance
and providing musical entertainment. The crowd thins as the club and volunteers
start breaking down tents, stacking chairs, and cleaning up garbage. Denise
helps me fold up the raffle table. I swipe her present from under the table and
hide it in my pocket for now. We tote the table and raffle items toward the
main setup area. With most of the crowd finally gone, I spot Kevin on stage
packing up his deejay equipment. I turn to Denise. “C’mon. Let’s go see my
brother.”

Denise
and I run to the stage and surprise Kevin as he’s slipping a record in an
unused sleeve.

“Yo,
Kev! I can’t believe you made it out here,” I say, slapping him on the back.

Kevin
looks up and grins. “You know I wouldn’t miss this for nothin’, li’l bro.” He
sets the record in a crate, and we do our secret handshake. Then he nods to
Denise. “Hey, what’s up, Denise?”

“Hey,”
she says, smiling. “Loved the music. I think my crazy girlfriends loved it
more.”

Kevin
laughs. “I aim to please.”

I
begin to help him pack away his equipment, but he stops me. “No, Dom. You’ve
worked enough today. Take a break and go somewhere with your girl.”

I
furrow my brow. “But I don’t mind—”

Kevin
gives me a stern look. “Go. Get outta here. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Denise
tugs my arm, and I turn to her. With a tilt of her head, she gestures for me to
follow.

It’s
almost five o’clock by the time the club finishes cleaning and packing up.
After I say my goodbyes, I return to my bike with Denise in tow.

“Let’s
ride somewhere,” she says.

I
beam. “Cougar Mountain again?”

Her
eyes light up. “Ooh! Yes! I love those winding roads.”

“Me
too.” I stop in mid-reach for my helmet, and slip my hand in my pocket for the
box. “Before we leave, I wanna give you this.”

She
carefully takes the tiny box and looks at it curiously. “Dominick? What did
you—”

“Just
open it,” I say, shaking my head.

Slowly,
she tugs the ribbon free and opens the box. She peeks inside and gasps. “Oh!
Dominick, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” She hugs me tight.

I
return the hug and indulge in a deep, loving kiss. “Just a little something to
say that I love you.” I take the earrings from her and help her put them on.
Afterward, I stand back and admire her. “They look perfect on you.”

She
grins and then kisses me again. “I have something for you, too.”

I
raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I
know it’s a little late, but … ” She fishes through her purse and pulls out a
quarter.

Laughing,
I take it. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” I say, pocketing the coin.

“How
can I possibly forget the first time I met you?”

I
lean in and kiss her deeply.
Yeah, I’ll
never forget, either.

We
gear up and leave the park. Denise’s arms are wrapped tightly around me. No
piece of jewelry in the world can ever express my true love for this girl. It’s
crazy how fate can bring two people together. Or was it destiny?

Maybe
that’s why Denise is so special to me, and I will cherish it forever.

There
was
a light at the end of that
tunnel, and that light was her.

Kevin Anderson lives the high life as a deejay and prospective
pro-basketball player. But it’s timeout for that life of fame when he meets Trinity
Brown. Upon learning her secrets, Kevin must decide if it is worth risking his career—and
his life—to help the woman he loves …

Please see the next page for a preview of

Scratched

An Excerpt of
Scratched

Chapter 1

I pull up to the driveway of Dominick’s duplex and
wait while he and Denise get out. I’m mad about what went down last night. But
fortunately, Dom was there to save her from that shit. If I see that guy
William again, I’ll kill him for Denise
and
for my baby brother, who had to experience the mental trauma all over again. I
know Dom. As tough as he thinks he is, his mind is still fragile. He must’ve
suffered one of his recurring flashbacks when he rescued Denise at the party.

Where
she was almost raped.

I
wish I could have taken a good, clean shot at William, too, that fucking
bastard. But it was Dom’s fight.

Dom
taps the driver-side window, shaking me out of my thoughts. Rolling down the
window, I’m met with a light breeze of the mild Seattle night that kisses my
face. I stare at my brother, concerned and hoping tonight’s ordeal doesn’t send
him off the deep end. He’s got a lot of anger boiling inside after putting up
with our father’s abuse for all those years. It’s a miracle I’ve been able to
help him keep it under control for this long.

But
still, he’s like a ticking time bomb, and it worries me, especially with Denise
there. She’s been through enough, and she doesn’t need his “issues” on top of
what she already has to deal with. I know Dom likes her—
loves her
—but I don’t think she knows what he’s gone through.

“Thanks,
man, for all this,” Dom says.

I
scrutinize the two of them. “You sure you two will be okay?”

Dom
nods. “Yeah, man.” He looks over his shoulder at Denise, who smiles in return.

She’s
got a beautiful smile. There’s a glow about her that brings out the best in my
brother. I hope she can help him quell his demons.

“All
right,” I say then stare out the windshield at nothing in particular. “I got a
call while I was waiting at the hospital for you guys. Got this huge gig at a
radio station down in Portland next Wednesday, so I’ll be gone. But I’ll be
back by Friday.”

Dom
grins. “Wow, Kev, that’s great! I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.”
I look back at him. “Take it easy, li’l bro, okay?”

He
nods, his smile fading. “You, too.”

I
reach out the window, and we do our secret handshake that we’ve been doing
since we were kids. Back then, it reminded us that we were inseparable no
matter how bad it got.

I
drive off into the night, glancing in my mirror to see Dom and Denise head
inside the house. I won’t see my little brother for a few days, but that
doesn’t mean I’m not going to call and check up on him.

* * *

Sunday night, I pack and head south on the interstate
toward Portland. It’s less than a three-hour drive, and I could’ve just left
early on Tuesday, but I want to meet up with some of my deejay friends on
Monday, some of whom I’ll most likely crash with.

And
there are other things that I need to take care of as well.

Twenty
minutes into my drive, I detour east to Renton to a place I hate going back to.
It’s been a little over six months since I last visited, and the guilt inside
me says I should stop in and at least say hello. I pull into the driveway of a
little blue house that sits back among a cluster of trees. My headlights shine
on the back of a white SUV parked in front of me.
Uncle Adam’s here.

Getting
out the car, I slip on my earbuds and start up the music player in my back
pocket. House music fills my ears, calming my nerves. A narrow, pebbled,
flower-lined walkway leads up to the front door of the decades-old home. The
scent of azaleas—Mama’s scent—fills my nose, and I pluck a blossom and twirl it
between my fingers. Each time I return, this place seems so new to me. So
foreign. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trying hard to forget the past. All
that’s left of “home” is pain. And my mother.