Unbreak My Heart (30 page)

“Take a deep breath, sweetheart, and calm down.”

“I hate this, Boone. I hate
her
.”

My stomach bottomed out. “I know. Where’s Mom now?”

“Passed out in her bedroom.”

“Take a picture of her and send it to me.”

Silence. “You don’t believe me! You think I’m just like her, lying to manipulate you and—”

“No, I don’t. Just listen to me.” I turned toward the wall, keeping Kyler and Hayden at my back. “We need proof of her fuck-up. Take pictures of anything drug related. And the booze. Take pictures of her passed out. Can you do that?”

She sniffled. “I don’t know what good it’d do unless you’re calling social services. And you know how I feel about that.”

“Fine.” Oakley lost her shit last time I’d brought it up. Not because she had a fucked-up dependency on Mom, but because she and Rock had spent a year in the foster system. It killed me I hadn’t known about it. “Can you get to town?”

“I’ve got my motorcycle.”

“Pack enough clothes for a few days and anything else you’ll need.”

“Boone. I don’t have any place to go.”

Frustrated by the way her voice broke, I almost punched the wall, but I managed a calm tone. “I’m calling the motel I stayed at last time and I’ll get you a room for a week. But you have to promise me you won’t let Mom know you’re there or let her stay with you.”

“I promise. But what if she calls and asks me where I am when she sobers up? What do I tell her?”

“That you’re staying with a friend. After that, don’t take her calls until you hear it’s okay from me. Promise me.”

“I promise. Thank you, Boone. I know this isn’t your problem—”

“You’re my sister, Oakley. If I can help you, I will.”

She was crying so hard when she hung up I couldn’t understand her.

I did an internet search, found the motel and called. “This is Sergeant Boone West. I stayed there a few weeks ago with my sister? You remember me? Great. Look, I’m in a bind. I’m coming to visit my sister again and I’m not sure what day I’ll be there, it all depends on the army clearing the paperwork.” I forced a laugh when the desk clerk commented about too much red tape. “That’s the government for you. Anyway, I’ll reserve a room starting tonight. My sister will be there shortly so go ahead and give her the key. I’ll pick mine up when I get there.” I hated to lie, but they wouldn’t rent a room to a minor. “You ready for my credit card?” I pulled my Visa out of my wallet. The numbers swam and I blinked twice but they remained a jumbled mess.

Fuck. Fuck. Stress made the dyslexia worse. And I’d had a stressful day before this. I’d have to swallow my pride and ask Raj to read me the numbers so I could repeat them to the motel clerk.

I turned around.

Sierra had just walked in. Her scowl morphed into concern when our eyes met. Then she was right there, close enough to touch. “What’s wrong?”

I said, “Can you please hang on a second?” to the motel clerk and hit the mute button. “Same old crap with my mom. I’m reserving Oakley a motel room, but I’m so…pissed off I can’t even read the numbers on my goddamned credit card.” My face flamed when I said, “Could you read them to me and I’ll repeat them to the clerk?”

“Of course.”

On automatic, I turned back around, away from my McKay cousins’ questioning eyes. I pushed the mute button again. “Sorry about that. I’m ready to give you the number now.”

Sierra spoke the numbers directly into my ear and I relayed them to the clerk.

After a little more small talk, I hung up, relieved Oakley would have a clean, safe place to stay for a few days. I returned my credit card to my wallet and my wallet to my back pocket.

Sierra kissed me, bringing my attention back where it belonged: on her beautiful face.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get out of here. This place has a bad vibe.”

We approached the table and Raj said, “What’s up?”

“Family stuff with my sister so I’ve gotta go deal with that.”

“Okay. Call if you need something. If not, I’ll see you at oh eight hundred.”

“Later.”

The McKay-kateers were strangely subdued as we walked away.

Once we were alone in Sierra’s car, I leaned over the console and kissed her, desperate for her taste to wash away the bitterness. Needing a reminder that my life and my future were with her. It was easy to get sucked into a dark place when a reminder of my ugly past literally came calling.

Her fingers were cool against my cheeks. “Sit back and close your eyes. Get your head together. We’ll talk after we get home.”

What did I
do once we got there?

Stalled.

I showered. A long, hot shower that wasted resources and time.

My phone rang with a call from Oakley as I entered my room, towel wrapped around my hips. “You all right?”

Oakley expelled a shaky sigh. “It’s surreal being in this hotel room alone. I’m better now. I promised I wouldn’t cry, but thank you so, so, so much, Boone.”

“I’m just glad I could do something. Heads up; the only reason they’re letting you stay there as an unattended minor is because I told them I was coming to visit. So if they ask you when I’ll be there…tell them you don’t know.”

“I hate how good I’ve gotten at lying.”

“Me too, Twig. I can’t believe I forgot to ask before…where’s Rock?”

“In juvie. This time it wasn’t his fault. But they locked him up for two weeks anyway. I think that’s why Mom got high; she felt guilty.”

“Mom got him shipped off?”

“Yeah. He took the car without permission according to Mom, but
she
gave him the keys. She didn’t remember that and she called the cops and turned him in. They found drug stuff in the car—which was hers. He passed the drug test or he’d be locked up longer. He’s better off there than here this week.”

She had a point. “It’s getting late. Get some rest. Let me know how you’re doing tomorrow. If you need anything just call me. No matter what time.”

After I hung up, I sat on the folding chair, hunched over with my forearms on my knees. My head pounded like fifty people were yelling inside my skull in fifty different languages.

Welcome back to dyslexia dysfunction, Boone! We missed you.

Turn it off.

Shut it down.

Drown it out.

I dressed in my running clothes and sent Sierra a text:

Went 4 run

Phone attached to my waistband, earbuds in, I slipped out the front door.

The housing developments were a clusterfuck so I pounded the pavement on the main thoroughfare. It’d be just my luck to get hopelessly lost tonight. With my music cranked I could barely hear the traffic.

So overriding the voices with louder noise worked.

Or maybe running myself ragged worked.

An hour and a half later I returned to the house. I’d erased all traces of Brooding Boone but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Would Sierra understand that? Or would she push?

Inside the entryway I kicked off my shoes and set my phone and earbuds on the catchall table next to BBD—the big black dildo.

The scents of vanilla and chocolate drifted from the kitchen.

I stood there debating what to do next, when Sierra appeared.

She sauntered across the tile, stopping in front of me close enough our thighs almost touched. Wordlessly she slid her hands beneath my T-shirt and pressed an openmouthed kiss in the hollow below my ear.

I closed my eyes.

Her cool fingertips traced the ridges of my abs. Stroking. Slowly exploring. I wanted to let my head fall back and beg her to put her hands all over me like this. With no agenda. No race to get naked so we could start fucking.

Whatever sound of pleasure I made pleased her because I felt her smile against my neck.

My arms hung by my sides like clubs. Needing something solid to hold onto, I latched onto her hips. Despite the temptation of her warm curves beneath my hands, I didn’t pull her closer.

She sighed over the damp spot she’d left on the curve where my neck met my shoulder. Goose bumps cascaded down my arms, my back and my chest and I shuddered.

So she did it again.

And again.

And again.

Sierra kept her face buried in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily, her fingers digging into my sides even as her thumbs lazily swept across the line of dark hair below my belly button.

As much as I wanted to ditch my shirt so no barriers existed between her stroking hands and my skin, I didn’t want to break the spell she was weaving around me, around us.

She inched her fingers up higher, stopping to caress the middle of my torso. First with the tips of her fingers, now warm from my skin, then she used her whole hand, flattening her palm and spreading out all ten fingers like a starfish. Finally she dragged the rougher skin of her knuckles across that same area, as if she needed to know all the different ways my flesh felt against hers.

While she touched me, her mouth sought the tender spots on my neck. Changing it up from a whisper-light brush of her lips, to a more aggressive suck, to a teasing lick.

I was utterly fucking lost to her. To this arousing tenderness.

She traced each individual rib. Her questing hands reached my chest and she mapped every cut of muscle. She ruffled the hair on my chest. A reverent finger followed my collarbone back and forth. She touched my nipples but didn’t pinch or pull, she just kept up the same maddening stroking until they pulled into hard, tight points.

I wanted her wet mouth there. Sucking. Using her teeth. Flicking her tongue over the tips. Blowing a cool breath across the friction-warmed skin. I growled with hunger, the image of her dark head bent to my chest, just like that first night, when she played with my chest in fascination.

“Boone.”

“Uh.” She’d rendered me monosyllabic.

“Go to bed. I’ll lock up and be right there.”

“Hurry.” My breath drifted across her ear and she shivered.

Her hands slowly moved down my torso and from beneath my shirt.

My eyes were still closed when Sierra stepped away.

I could barely put one foot in front of the other as I stumbled in a daze down the hall to her—
our
—bedroom. I stripped in the darkness and crawled naked between the cool sheets.

She kept the lights off and closed the door behind her.

The bed barely jiggled when she crawled across it. She tapped my hip to get me to roll to my belly.

That’s when I expected she’d end the night by massaging my back until I relaxed enough to talk—that seemed a very Sierra-like move.

But she continued with the loving touches. The soft kisses. The tender caresses. I hadn’t been aware of all the places on my back that were pleasure triggers. The zigzag of her fingernails down my spine. The pattering of her fingertips on the nape of my neck. Random swirls and circle eights across my lower back. Love bites as she outlined my shoulder blades with her mouth.

The erotic way she touched me…my cock should’ve been painfully hard, aching for relief. I should’ve been grinding it against the mattress seeking additional friction.

But the other parts of my body—flesh and muscle and bone, long denied this type of thorough, reverent contact, told my dick to stand down.

My last coherent thought was that I should roll to my back, so I could wrap Sierra in my arms like I did every night before we fell asleep. But I was so blissed out I couldn’t even manage a one-word answer when she whispered, “I’m
all fucking in
with you, Boone. Don’t forget that I’m here for whatever you need. Get some sleep.”

I had a
nightmare.

My mom locked Oakley in her room, screaming, “You want light? I’ll give you light!” as she set fire to the house and burned my sister alive.

Talk about a rude wakeup.

I attempted to level my breathing. I glanced across the gulf between us; Sierra curled up on her side of the bed facing away from me.

She’d been nothing but thoughtful and supportive, giving me the connection I hadn’t known I’d needed.

And how had I repaid her? By shutting her out.

Yeah, I was some great boyfriend.

Fuck. I needed air.

I managed not to wake her as I dressed and then snuck out of the bedroom.