Scorch (Black Inferno Book 4) (6 page)

As I walk into Tate’s house, I think to myself that I really should find my own place. Living here with my brother is just plain awkward. I’m sure Ria and Paige feel the same, they’re living with Roxie and Mason and know they feel the same way as I do. Perhaps I should suggest finding a small apartment somewhere together? But then again, with Troy toying with me, it’s probably best for me to stay put for now.

I climb the stairs, wondering how hurt Booker must be feeling. I can’t believe I turned him down like that, I really want to be with him. And as much as I’m worried about Tate’s reaction and the rest of our friends, it’s not the real reason I said no to him. Troy is behind my reasoning and decision. When Joe hurt Booker, I was shit scared, and I don’t want anything like that to happen again. Maybe if I try to keep Booker away, he won’t be around if Troy becomes bored with his games and decides to come after me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Booker again.

“Shit.” I hear and the voice makes me jump, as I was too busy off daydreaming.

Standing at the top of the staircase is a woman who’s apparently been spending some quality time with my brother. Her hair is messy, her dress is thrown back on and she’s dangling her shoes from her fingers. She stares at me wide eyed, and I quickly realize I’m just another girl to her, she has no idea I’m Tate’s sister.

“Relax…” I assure her, walking past while trying to give her a wide birth, “…I’m Tate’s sister.”

Immediately she places her hand over her heart and heavily breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God!” Laughing, she descends down the stairs leaving me to walk to my bedroom in peace. Once I change into my baggy pajama bottoms and black vest, I make my way to the kitchen. Thoughts of Booker and Troy circle through my mind and begin to give me a headache.

Craving some coffee, I make a cup and wait for it to cool. While the coffee is cooling, I decide to make myself some toast. It’s passed midnight, but I’m usually hungry when I worry. As I take my first bite, I hear something from behind me and pause. I’m alone down here, all the lights are off and Tate’s in bed. Goosebumps spread over me as I sip on my coffee, and I repeat in my head that there’s nobody here but me. I’m just being silly.

I begin to think of Booker and wonder if he’s still awake like me. Probably not, because he’s a man. I laugh to myself and out of nowhere I hear the creak of a footstep. Turning quickly, I face the dark and I see the outline of a man. My cup of coffee mug drops to the floor, smashing as it hits and I scream.

“Crystal?” Tate’s soothing voice comes as he steps out from the shadows.

“Tate?” I gasp. “What the fuck are you hiding for?”

“I heard someone down here and thought Suzy was still here,” he explains with a frown.

“Suzy?” I ask.

“The girl I bought back,” he tells me.

So the girl I met at the top of the stairs was called Suzy.

“Okay,” I whisper, looking down at the mess I’ve created and for some reason my eyes start to blur. I bend down and begin cleaning up the broken mug so Tate doesn’t see my emotion, but there’s no use. Of course, he sees me, he knows me better than Booker even does.

“Crystal…” he bends down opposite me, “…are you okay?”

“Of course,” I sniffle. “Just don’t scare me like that again.”

“This isn’t about me making you jump, is it?” he asks, but Tate doesn’t need me to answer. The look on my face is all the proof he needs. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I insist, but he isn’t buying it. He places a hand over mine and a sob escapes. Tate immediately grabs me in his arms, the broken mug completely forgotten about as I cry. I let it all out, and these tears have nothing to do with Booker, but how sick I am worrying about Troy. Before I realized it was my brother, I’d thought it was Troy and I was petrified. The stress is now finally escaping me, and Tate is helping to hold me together.

By the next morning, I’m calmer and have it together. I did a lot of crying last night, but I didn’t tell Tate why, and when he realized that I wasn’t going to fill him in he soon quit asking and helped calm me down.

A knock on the door sounds before Tate walks in, holding a cup of coffee. “How are ya?” he asks me.

“Better.” I sit up and take the mug from him. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Booker sent a text in the middle of the night. He couldn’t sleep and asked if anyone wanted to go over the new tracks for the album,” he explains.

So I was wrong, Booker couldn’t sleep either, and for some reason that makes me feel a little better. “Have fun.” I smile.

“Oh no, I just got back.” He laughs. “I left as soon as you went to sleep.”

So I was all alone last night?

That doesn’t make me feel good, and I’m a little disappointed at Tate, which he can obviously see reflected by my face.

“Don’t worry…” he holds up his hands, “…after the state you were in, I asked Booker to come here, and we were in the studio all night. Booker’s in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” I panic.

“After I explained I wouldn’t be leaving you, he soon came over,” Tate adds.

“Did you tell him?”

“No…” he shakes his head, “…just said you were upset and I wasn’t leaving you.”

He turns and disappears out of the room and I jump up to get ready. I don’t want Booker seeing me in this state—baggy, unflattering clothes, puffy red eyes—it’s not a great look. When I make my way downstairs, Tate and Booker are sitting in the kitchen.

“Crystal,” Booker greets me. “You any better?”

“Yep.” I nod, but I don’t miss the confused look from Tate.

“Am I missing something here?” Tate asks. “Have you two suddenly become best fucking pals in the last couple of weeks?” He laughs.

“No…” I answer.

“Sort of,” Booker adds the same time as I speak.

“Okay.” Tate shakes his head, and slowly stands from his seat. “I gotta go check on Suzy.”

“Suzy?” asks Tate. “You still seeing her?”

“Seeing her?” I ask in shock and Tate freezes, a look of panic in his eyes.

“Not like that,” he shouts in disgust.

“Try telling her that.” Laughs Booker.

“Oh boy.” I giggle, and the look on Tate’s face is hilarious.

“Fuck! It ain’t like that,” Tate shouts again, looking and Booker and I as we laugh. “I have to keep her sweet.”

“Just go.” I watch Tate storm out the house. Wiping away my tears, I look to Booker, who still has a wide grin plastered on his face. “That was funny.”

“Yes, it fucking was.” Booker continues to laugh. “The best part of it, though, is the fact that it’s fucking true!”

“What?” I ask.

“This Suzy chick… she’s in love with your brother. We can all see that, but Tate doesn’t feel the same…” Booker begins, “…but he won’t let her down and keeps going back to her.”

“Typical Tate.” I shake my head. “He’s a good guy, but for some reason he can’t commit.”

“He hasn’t found the right woman.” Booker looks at me, and the way his eyes burn into mine makes me feel lightheaded. “And when he does, she’ll be his everything and he won’t let her go for anything.”

My cheeks burn and I smile, feeling like a teenager who’s sitting with her crush. But Booker means more to me than that. What he says about Tate is true, he’s a romantic and loves his women, but for some reason he hasn’t settled down. Ever! I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend, and he never speaks to me about anyone important in his life, other than the band and our friends.

“What happened last night?” Booker asks me.

“Nothing,” I reply quickly.

He then stares at me with his brows furrowed together and his fists clenched. “Crystal, your brother told me everything, and I know it either has something to do with me or your ex.”

His words bring my temperature down. “You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not.” He places a hand over mine, and when I look back up to him, tears very nearly fall from the sympathy I see there. From his angry face a few seconds ago, his expression has totally changed. His blue eyes aren’t as harsh anymore and are instead softer, and his brows are smooth, he’s not angered at all. “Crystal, tell me,
please
. What’s the matter with you?”

“It’s not because of you,” I reveal, and his face softens.

Booker holds me tightly. “Tell me…”

I really want to, I really do, but I don’t want him to think I’m stupid and weak. Booker’s hands warm me and I can feel myself weakening. I step back, but Booker grabs me, capturing me against him once more. “Crystal, I really fucking care about you. I’m done sneaking around and I’m finished with secrets. It kills me not being with you as much as I want. I want you, and I’m fucking tired of keeping it quiet.”

“Booker…” I sigh.

“No.” He shakes his head and kisses me, his mouth making me moan as he growls in return.

“I can’t,” I gasp.

Suddenly, Booker withdraws from me. Clenching his jaw, his fists tell me exactly how he’s feeling, and I’m not surprised. After all, I do keep turning him down. “Am I not fucking good enough for you?” he yells.

“It’s not because of that and you know it,” I insist.

“Do I really?” He laughs sarcastically, and the smile he wears isn’t a nice one at all. It’s mockery.

“Tate...” I begin, but Booker growls.

“I’m done with fucking hiding. I want you, and I won’t lie to our friends anymore. You wanna be my women, Crystal?” he asks. “I can’t keep away from you any longer.”

“I do,” I reply, tears rolling down my cheeks. “But Tate.”

“He
will
understand,” Booker insists, standing closer to me once more. “Trust me.”

“Book…” I begin, “…you were right. It’s my ex upsetting me.”

“I’ll look after you.”

“I haven’t even told you anything yet.” I laugh as he wipes away my tears.

“You don’t have to.” He leans in and gives me a loving kiss. “I’ll protect and care for you as long as I’m breathing. Will you let me?”

I nod, crying, as he takes my mouth with more passion than he’s ever shown me. There’s no going back now. Booker leans into me again, kissing my tears away and then taking my mouth. It begins as sweet, but it soon turns sexual and heated.