Scorch (Black Inferno Book 4) (3 page)

When I wake the next morning, I decide it’s time to go back to my brother’s house. Roxie wanted me to stay at hers last night, she kept a close and caring eye on me, but we didn’t talk anymore about Troy or Booker. Mason kept looking at me, curious to know what the matter was. No doubt that now I’ve left, he’s quizzing Roxie over what went down yesterday. I trust her to tell Mason what he needs to know, without giving away too much information or mentioning Troy’s name.

As I’m walking the twenty-minute distance to Tate’s house, I spot Booker.

“On your way to Mason’s?” I ask, stopping as we stand in front of each other.

Booker smiles a little and shakes his head. “Not now that I’ve seen you.”

“I guessed that.” I roll my eyes.

We stand for a couple of seconds, and then break out in nervous smiles. After a long talk with Roxie this morning, after I’d calmed down, I came to a decision that I would talk with Booker. However, I was hoping that I wouldn’t see him so quickly after coming to that realization. It appears that I don’t have very much luck lately, so I guess there’s no time like the present.

“Look, about yesterday—” I begin, but Booker cuts me off.

“Forget about it, I have.” He brushes it off.

“Really?” I ask. “I was going to—”

But Booker cuts me off again. “Don’t say you’re sorry, you shouldn’t be.”

“In that case, it’s all gone.” I smile.

“Probably not too hard for you anyway.” Booker laughs.

“What are you trying to say?” I accuse playfully.

“Nothing…” Booker laughs, “...Little Acorn.”

My eyes widen at the nickname. Tate used to love picking on me when we were younger, and his favorite nickname for me was Little Acorn because he said that was the size of my brain.

“Hey!” I playfully slap his arm and straight away Booker flinches. “Oh my God! I’m sorry.”

Booker looks down at his arm, smiling, but I can see the pain on his face. “It’s fine.”

“What’s the matter? Is it the bullet wound?” I ask him, concerned that I might have hurt his injury. Horrible images of what happened to him flash back—Booker lying on the floor in pain, clutching his shoulder and blood pouring from the wound.

“No, it’s okay,” he assures me.

“Liar.” I frown.

“Fine.” He sighs. “It’s still sore and stiff to move.”

Immediately I feel like shit. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Booker wriggles his arm around a little and smiles down at me. “It’s fine.”

“Have you played the drums yet?” I dare to ask him.

When he came out of surgery, the doctor told him not to play the drums until he was informed otherwise. He could badly damage it, and if it’s that bad, he could ruin his chance of ever playing the drums, as well as he does now, for the rest of his life.

“Not yet, and it fucking kills me,” he grumbles.

“Book…” I reach out and touch his other arm.

“I have a follow up in a couple of weeks. They should let me know then if I’m healed enough to play,” Booker tries to reassure me, but I see that he’s severely bothered.

“Let’s go and get a drink,” I offer.

“At your brother’s?” he asks, looking surprised.

“Maybe it’s better if we go to yours…” I offer again, “…but I’ll get the drink.”

“Come on.” He holds me close. “Let’s go and get that drink.”

After Booker poured a drink for himself, we went into his garden.

“Are you worried about the check up on your shoulder?” I ask him, and by the look on his face, I know that he is.

“Not really,” he lies. “I’ll just wait to hear what they have to say.”

“I’ll come with you if you want?” I offer.

Booker looks honestly shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Why not?” I laugh.

“Because Tate will want to know why.”

Booker’s right, this will make my brother wonder why I want to go with him.

“I’ll think about that when it comes to it…” I scoot closer to him, “…but I want to come with you.”

“You still care?” Booker asks quietly.

I look up at him as he sits beside me, frowning to his handsome face. “Of course, I do. I never stopped.”

Booker places his drink on the floor and turns to face me completely. Silently, his hand reaches up and softly caresses my cheek, I close my eyes for a few seconds leaning into his hand. His touch so familiar, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

“Crystal,” he whispers against my lips. When I open my eyes the intensity that shines through his shocks me. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I whisper back, afraid to speak too loudly.

Booker looks down at my lips. “I want to kiss you.”

Swallowing down my nerves, I answer him, “Then do it.”

Without a second of doubt, Booker leans close and claims my mouth as his own. With both hands he secures me against him, kissing me like we are forever lovers. I moan against him, and he growls deep within his throat in return. My hands reach for him now, holding onto his arms because I’m afraid to fall. I feel so lightheaded I’m not sure I’m still sitting down.

I return back to Tate’s, still feeling a little lightheaded from the kiss Booker, and I shared last night. It was hard to stop and remove my mouth from his, after all this time I’m blown away at how good a kisser he still is. I stayed over, though, how could I not after that? But we didn’t remain in the same bed, I slept in the spare bedroom. But oddly I still felt hyper aware of Booker sleeping in the bedroom down the hall. Wondering how he was sleeping? What he was wearing, wondering if he slept nude?

I bet he does,
I think to myself.

The now new image of Booker lying naked on his bed, the many tattoos on show, makes me hungry and not for the food in the refrigerator. I’m guessing Tate’s in bed, with a woman by the looks of the bright pink bra on the living room floor.
Nice.

Wanting a shower, I make my way to my room upstairs, and as I close the door behind me my cell phone rings in my bag. It’s a blocked number, and I think for a couple of seconds whether to answer or not because I don’t like to answer blocked ID calls. So I decline and throw my phone onto my bed, removing my jacket and shoes. My cell rings again and it’s a blocked number, just like before, but I decline again. I run the shower, letting the water warm as I brush through my hair, but I hear my cell alerting me to another phone call. Before I even look at the screen, I know it’s a blocked number again. Thinking it might be an emergency, I decide to answer this time.

“Hello?” I reply, closing the door to my en-suite to cancel any noise from the shower. There’s a second of silence before ‘
Chasing Cars’
by Snow Patrol begins to play down the phone and chills spread all over my entire body. I used to love this song before Troy made it our song, and then I came to hate it. It reminds me of all the bad times and what he did to me. “Hello?” I repeat, but apart from the song, there’s no noise. I begin to feel sick and scared, so I quickly hang up and turn it off before Troy can hear my cries. I don’t want to chance him calling me again. Troy used to love seeing and hearing me cry after he abused me. It was like an athlete receiving a trophy after his victory, and my cries were his reward.

Why is he torturing me? Why can’t he just let me go and live my life free of him?

You’d think he would be satisfied after everything he’s already done. I may be a stronger woman now, but Troy’s still able to undo me. When I first met him, I was not the same as I am now. My friends now see me as strong, but back then I wasn’t. I was quiet and weak, I must have been to continue to live with the shit I was handed.

Even now I think back and ask myself,
why didn’t I leave him sooner?

Why did I ever stay with an abusive man?

If it wasn’t for Booker, I’m afraid I’d still be living that life, but then I laugh.

Aren’t I still scared and running away from Troy?
I may not be living with him, but I’m still terrified of him and what he can do.

There was a time when I was with him that I thought he’d stopped, and he began treating me the way I believed I should be treated, that was when I’d forgive him.

What a joke!
I can never ever forgive Troy. There only so many punches a woman can take before she realizes she’s worth more, and for me that realization didn’t materialize from Troy’s fists, but in the arms of Booker.

When I ran for the safety of my brother, Tate, I found Booker. His flirting and compliments made me see myself for who I really am. I saw through Troy’s lies, his insults and brainwashing. He may not know it, but Booker saved me, and I will forever be grateful for that. The way Booker looked at me, and even though he may have been sweet talking me to get into my underwear by just speaking to me in a different tone than Troy did, something inside me snapped.

Troy would always talk down to me and use a nasty tone, but Booker was always sweet and in some ways, loving. So when I returned home and reunited with Troy in the house we shared, he gave me a shit storm of a story about how he’d changed, but I heard the tone in his voice. It didn’t match Booker’s, and his eyes never looked at me adoringly like Booker’s had. Even though I accepted Troy’s apology, I didn’t believe him. It was different that time, he didn’t hit me as much, but mostly instead, he tried to emotionally hurt me by getting inside my head.

However, this time, I was more aware. I was already planning my escape because I wasn’t stupid. Knowing I couldn’t just run away as I needed money to survive, and Troy had a lot of it, so I saved little bits here and there with a goal to running away. I realized if I went home to my parents, Troy would only come after me and find me, but if I went with Tate, there was a lesser chance of him catching up with me.

I never told Troy that I was related to a rising rock star—it was before Black Inferno got their huge break—so I didn’t want to ring Tate and alert him to my struggles. As a matter of fact, I didn’t want anyone knowing what I’d been hiding and feeling sorry for me, especially not with my new found pride. It’s the reason Tate and nobody else knows about Troy, except Roxie, and if she hadn’t seen me crying that night she wouldn’t have known either.

That night
. I can’t believe I went to meet him after everything he’d done. If he hadn’t threatened my brother, I wouldn’t have gotten myself upset. As soon as I showed up, I felt like the timid girl I used to be and I couldn’t have that. All he had to say was he wanted me back, and when I said I wouldn’t, he went crazy. He threatened me, my family, and my friends. He said he had connections and knew how to get to me, and that if I didn’t go with him, it would be the end of me.

His letters and now phone calls are becoming too much for me to handle, and after what Roxie had gone through with her creepy stalker Joe, I don’t know what to do. I think I should tell Tate, but if I do he might do something stupid and get himself into trouble.

If I ignore Troy, he might get the hint and leave me the fuck alone.

At least, that’s what I’m hoping.

Crystal had already gone when I woke up and I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m a little pissed because I wanted to impress her with some breakfast, but she hasn’t given me a chance. The first thing I did this morning was check in on her, after last night I didn’t know how it would be between us. It was fucking hot, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I would rather be Crystal’s friend than not be in her life at all. However, when I approached the room she slept in, the door was already open, and it was empty. The bed wasn’t made, which actually made me laugh.
Messy bitch.
As I stepped inside, I could smell her sweet scent and breathed her in. If only she wasn’t my friend’s little sister and we hadn’t had sex, he might just forgive me, but we’ve gone too far. We haven’t slept together for a while, probably around a year, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about her. I think about Crystal every day, and I’m not even sure I know what that means.

I get ready, and by the time I’ve showered and dress I notice I have a text. It’s from Tate, and he’s asking about Crystal. Reading his text, I discover he stayed out last night and can’t get hold of his sister. Frowning, I dial her number and it goes straight to voicemail. Her phone has most likely died, but I still put on my boots and make my way to Tate’s. Deciding to walk because it’s a beautiful day and Tate’s place is only ten minutes away, I think how much Crystal can’t enjoy living with her brother. Seeing him with girls and returning from his late nights of fucking, it’s got to be awkward as hell.

Maybe she would prefer moving in with me? Or I could, at least, offer her the room for whenever she needs a break from the house. Somehow, I don’t think she’ll take me up on my offer, though.

I key in the code to Tate’s private gates and knock on the door. There’s no answer, so I knock again, and when Crystal doesn’t open the door, I decide to let myself in. I have my own key, but it’s not needed because the damn door is open.

“Crystal!” I shout, my voice echoing through the house.

“Book?” I hear her voice floating down from the top of the stairs. She’s standing in tiny jean shorts and a tight black shirt, her long bright red hair falling down either side of her shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

Her voice sounds off, and I notice her eyes look a little red. “What’s the matter?”

Crystal stands stiff. “Nothing.” She begins to walk down the stairs, not giving me any eye contact, but it’s no use because I know she’s been crying. “Why are you here?”

“I came to see you. Tate can’t get through to your phone and neither can I.”

Crystal snaps her face toward me. “Tate’s upstairs.” She frowns.

“No, he’s not,” I correct her. “He’s on his way home, though, but he’s worried he can’t call you.”

Crystal’s eyes dart around the place. “I thought he was here.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask, reaching out to touch her arm, but she flinches. “Has something happened?”

“No…” she shakes her head, “…my cell died, that’s all.”

The house phone rings, and she physically jumps. Her eyes are wide again, and she’s biting damn hard on her lip. “Crystal?”

“Can you get the phone?” she asks, sounding a little shaky.

“Sure.” I nod. I don’t care what she says, there’s something definitely wrong and I don’t like it. Watching her carefully as I walk across the room, Crystal is watching me just as hard. “Hello?” I answer the phone.

“Booker?” I hear Tate’s voice.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I answer, and I don’t know if I’m seeing things but I’m pretty sure Crystal looks relieved. “I came to check on her. Seems her cell has died.”