Trinity (Moonstone Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Trinity (Moonstone Book 1)
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And if I was honest, I wanted to know so I could go and beat the living crap out of them.

Pushing through the crowd, I followed in the direction she had fled, but I couldn’t see her. The crowd closed in and swallowed her up. Going to the large winding staircase I stood on the bottom step to get a better view. I saw Toby, the same girl over his shoulder, a bored expression on her face.
Drugs
. I recognized the look. The girl was as high as a kite.

“You seen Trinity anywhere?” I asked him, trying to keep my voice neutral.

He quirked an eyebrow. “The lead singer?”

I nodded.

A grin tugged at the edges of his lips. “Nope, sorry mate, haven’t seen her. She doesn’t usually come to Tony’s parties.”

“She’s here tonight.”

“Oh really?” Toby was amused. “You got a thing for Trinity hey? Well join the queue mate and be prepared to wait. She doesn’t date, doesn’t screw around at all. She might look like a proper rock chic but it’s all for show. Take her off the stage and she’s a completely different chick.”

I stopped scanning the crowd and focused my attention back on Toby. “You know her?”

He shrugged. “Sure. When she’s not strutting her stuff with Moonstone she’s serving coffee at The Bean near campus.”

I nodded.
Great
. That was good. If I lost her now I would have a way to find her. But I didn’t want to lose her now.

Suddenly I spotted the white glow of her blonde hair disappearing out the front door. Someone held it open for her and whispered something in her ear and she turned, smiling up at them. I imagined her giggling at whatever they said and remembered her giggle on stage. Even though she dressed tough, and sang in a rock band, and strutted her stuff like she’d give Gwen Stefani a run for her money, she did something amazingly sweet like giggled.

I wanted to hear her giggle again.

I wanted to be the one to make her giggle.

“Gotta go, mate,” I said quickly to Toby, pushing past him, “catch ya later.”

He chuckled but I didn’t spare him a look. I needed to wrangle my way through the crowd to her. A little voice inside my head told me to stop and hold back. I didn’t know this girl, and from what I’d seen of her tonight, the bruise, the band, the pile of shit in her run down car, she came with some baggage. I didn’t need that. Not when I had my own stuff to deal with. I should turn around, let her go.

But someone had hit her. Someone had
hurt
her.

I pushed through the crowd harder until I was outside, the music and lights fading behind me as I made my way down the lawn looking for the car I knew would be hers. An old Toyota that must have been red once, but was now a faded orange color, more rust than anything mechanical now. She’d parked at the bottom of the driveway, under a streetlight, where she wouldn’t be blocked in by other cars. Smart.

“Trinity wait!” I called out.

She stopped and turned around. I caught up to her and stopped a little way in front of her.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say,” I began and then paused. I had no idea what I wanted to say, I just wanted to talk to her and yet suddenly I couldn’t find any words. That amused me. I hadn’t been this tongue tied around a girl in well, possibly ever.

She raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to say what?”

“I just wanted to say sorry,” I began, “for intruding where it was none of my business.”

She stiffened, her shoulders squaring and her chin jutting out a little. She was trying to either
look
tough or
be
tough, but on someone who looked like her, was as tiny and fairy like as her she didn’t look either. But she looked adorable.

Fuck
. What was wrong with me?

Finally she nodded and turned away.

“It’s just,” I began again, “it’s just that I don’t like the idea that someone has hit you.”

She turned back and spoke slowly, carefully. “Your concern is touching, really. But nobody hit me. I fell during rehearsal, that’s all. You can ask anyone.”

She was lying. I was sure of it. But she was damn good at it. That made my stomach turn over. To be that good at lying about something like this meant she’d had practice.

“I won’t ask,” I assured her, “like I said, it’s none of my business.”

She nodded again and her eyes fell to the ground. “Is that all?”

“Yes. I mean no.” I cursed under my breath. I was a bumbling fool. “I mean, can I get your number?”

She blinked at me like she didn’t understand.

“Your phone number, “I clarified, wondering if there was another type of number I could ask for.

“Oh. I, um, I have a boyfriend.”

I stared at her. Right. A boyfriend. Of course. He was probably one of those meat heads back at the party, although I hadn’t seen her talk to anyone, but then I’d only seen her briefly. She might have been with him earlier, she might have been walking away from him when we bumped into one another, he might have … the words tumbled out of my mouth before I had time to stop them. “Did he hit you?”

Her eyes snapped. “No. I told you, I fell during rehearsal. We do some tricky dance moves on stage sometimes.”

I didn’t apologize for that comment. I knew she was lying. I suspected she was lying about the boyfriend too but I wouldn’t call her on that. If she didn’t want to give me her number I wouldn’t push it.

“I have to go,” she said eventually.

“Right. Bye.”

And I watched as she made her way across the manicured lawn to the shitty little Toyota. Climbing in, she snapped her seat belt on and then leaned back against the head rest staring up at the ceiling. Then she wiped her eye.

Fuck was she crying?

I made to walk toward her when she turned the engine on and reversed the car out. Then I watched as she drove out of my life.

Chapter Three

 

Luke

 

I couldn’t get her out of my head. Toby didn’t come home that night, which was good because I really didn’t need to listen to him and his girl going for it through the paper thin walls, especially when I had thoughts of a certain sexy lead singer dancing in my head. But as it was I was too wired to sleep anyhow. I just kept seeing her adorable little pixie face and the way she’d moved on stage. It was like she was two different people. I wasn’t quite sure yet which one I liked more.

The next day I got up early and went for a run. Adrenaline was coursing through my body and I’d barely slept. I needed an outlet for the extra energy, probably not the kind that involved running, but that would have to do for now. I ran for an hour and felt only slightly better when I returned. Toby was still out but there was a message from my mom reminding me about dinner tonight. It was Sunday and she always had a family dinner Sunday night. Tradition. And I was expected.

I rocked up early and spent some time chatting with my dad as he potted in the garden. My parents were into gardening and spent hours out in the backyard trimming and pruning. As a result it was a magical oasis and even though I didn’t get their passion for it, I did appreciate sitting out on the porch surrounded by tropical plants and flowers on a warm summer’s evening. I grabbed a beer from Dad’s outdoor bar and sat down at the patio table.

“No Melissa tonight,” my little sister Brooke observed, plopping herself loudly into the settee. Brooke was a little thing but she did everything loudly. She stomped around the house so that you knew exactly where she was at all times, and I swear her voice was a decibel louder than everyone else’s. Even as a little kid she’d been loud. And bossy. At sixteen she was still pretty bossy as well as way too interested in other people’s lives.

“No, we broke up,” I reminded her, patiently.

She grinned mischievously. “
You
know that and
I
know that, but does
Melissa
know that?”

“Not funny,” I frowned at her.

She ignored me and kept talking as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Because Melissa’s best friend has a cousin in my year at school and she said that you guys are just on a break. That it’s temporary and that you are still pretty much together anyhow.” She used her hands to show imaginary speech marks for “on a break” and “together.”

My frown deepened. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

She shrugged. “It’s not gossip if it’s true. It’s information.”

“Well that is not true so then it’s not information,” I informed her, “it’s gossip.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged again, and then examined her nails as if I was boring her. “So. Go out last night?”

“Hhhmmmn.”

She grinned again. “I know you did.” Then she leaned forward. “Shannon texted me and said that her older brother and his mates go to that dive across town and that
you
were there. And that afterwards you went to one of Tony Hurst’s parties.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. My sister was fast becoming the biggest gossip in town. “You know way too much.”

“So?” She ignored my barb. “
Did
you go to one of Tony Hurst’s parties?”

“Yes. And how do you even know who Tony Hurst is?”

She flicked her hair. “I know everything. But what were you doing over there anyhow? Mom would have a fit if she thought you were hanging out with someone like Tony Hurst. Did they have strippers? Orgies in the pool? Were there like thousands of people there?”

Her eyes were wide and imploring. I laughed at her. “Little sister you should just stick to school gossip. You’ll get yourself in trouble. And I went to check out a band, that’s all, I am not suddenly hanging out at Tony Hurst’s house so no reason to tell Mom about it.”

My mom barely tolerated swearing and couldn’t abide loud music or more than one glass of wine. There were quite a few things in this world that my mother frowned upon.

“Fifty bucks and I say nothing,” Brooke suddenly announced.

“Fuck off.”

“Twenty?” she tried, flashing me one of her smiles. “And I won’t tell Mom you just said fuck.”

“You just said it too,” I pointed out.

“Yeah but she knows I don’t swear.” She stuck her tongue out at me. How Brooke managed to keep my parents convinced that she was nothing but their sweet sixteen-year-old daughter I had no idea. “And besides, you’ve got nothing else on me.”

I reached into my pocket. “Ten. And no more gossiping either. You’ll end up in trouble.”

She took my money and shoved it in her jeans pocket. “Gossiping is good for you. I read in
Cosmo
magazine that it can expand your life by a whole thirty minutes.”

I smirked. “I’d rather die young.”

****

Mom had gone above and beyond with dinner. She had roasted everything. And there was my favorite dessert too, butterscotch pudding. Brooke prattled on and on during the meal, my parents listened to her patiently although I wondered if they actually heard what she was saying. She was talking about people and commenting on what she’d seen them wear, where they were going, who they were with. How on earth did my kid sister get to be such a mean little bitch?

“You know not everyone is as lucky as you are, Brooke,” I told her midway through dessert. She sounded like a spoilt brat and it annoyed me.

“I know that, Luke,” she snapped back, “but that doesn’t mean if you weigh more than a hundred and fifty pounds you should wear a short, tight mini dress. I mean, even poor people, or fat people should know what
not
to wear.”

I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped. I glanced at it.

“Who’s that dear?” my mother asked politely.

“Melissa,” I told her.

“Oh? Are you two back together?” she didn’t even bother to try and hide the hope in her voice. My mother had been almost as heartbroken as Melissa when we broke up. She’d cried and asked why over and over again, and told me I was making a big mistake. And that was my mother … not Melissa.

“No,” I told her for the umpteenth time, “but we are still friends.” That wasn’t true either. We were friends only because Melissa wouldn’t leave it be. I was happy to be friends with Melissa, after all, we had spent five years together and she’d been a big part of my life. My first girlfriend. My first everything. But she wasn’t handling the break up well, even now, two months later, and I was beginning to wonder if maybe we shouldn’t be friends for the time being, at least not until she was over it and had moved on. A while ago the idea of seeing Melissa with another guy would have made me as jealous as hell whereas now, well, now I think I would welcome it. At least then I might not get multiple texts and calls from her daily.

“Oh,” my mom replied, “that
is
a shame. I was hoping this was just a break. You know I spoke to Michelle the other day and she said that Melissa is just devastated. She loves you so much, Luke and really thought you had a future together.”

Michelle was Melissa’s mother. And my mother’s best friend. It all sucked sometimes living in a small town.

“These things happen,” I said and hoped she would leave it at that.

My mother got the hint and nodded politely before turning back to her food.

“So how’s the music going?” Brooke asked now in her booming
voice.

I felt my parent’s eyes on me again and I cursed under my breath as I glared across the table at Brooke.
Should have given me twenty
, she mouthed at me with triumph.

“Fine,” I told her, “the music is going fine.”

“Are you still going to class?” my father asked.

“Sure am,” I assured him.

“Good, because you know we’d hate for the music thing to get in the way of your schooling. It’s fine to have a hobby but not one that takes up all of your time.”

I’d heard this lecture before, countless times and knew better than to argue. An argument would only lead to more arguing and then my mother crying.

Glancing across the table I saw Brooke grinning delightedly. I couldn’t wait for the day she had something she didn’t want Mom and Dad to know. I was going to friggin’ love that day.

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