Amber to Ashes (The Torn Heart #1) (22 page)

“Thank you for coming, Brittany,” Amber says, a sad, haunting smile touching her lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

Brit nods, her gaze remaining apologetic. “I’m sorry for what my mother said, Amber. It’s hard to control crazy. Please don’t let her comments offend you. It was the wine talking.” A shake of her head as she grimaces. “Not that that made it okay for her to say or act how she did, but it’s all I have to go on.” She casts me a look that speaks a thousand words, none of them audible, before looking back up to the group. “I’m going to head out now. Please have a safe trip home.”

Brittany grabs her purse and disappears around a corner. Once she’s out of view, I find it hard to look into anyone’s eyes, Amber’s included. I feel like a dick, shame cloaking me in a heavy, suffocating blanket.

Nobody knows what to do or say, so I suggest getting the bill. Everyone agrees, eager to break free from the filth of the last hour. Over Mark’s objection, I hand my credit card to the waiter. I know there’s money on the table—my father’s way of trying to look cool—but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let the asshole pay for jack shit.

Amber grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly, as I lead us out to my Hummer. Everyone seems preoccupied, still trying to wrap their heads around what just transpired as we all get in. It’s just as well. I can’t think of anything fucking coherent to say anyway. I’m so goddamn pissed off at my parents, so fucking hurt, but the more I think about it, I’m just as angry with myself. I knew it would come to this. I bite back a laugh as I ease onto the busy highway, realizing I’m the one who caused this shit. I should’ve stuck to what my gut was saying, insisting to Amber that it just wasn’t a good idea.

In the midst of trying to get my head outta my personal problems, I pick up on Mark telling a story about how he got Amber into fishing, and something about her being afraid of the dark—which I didn’t know. I knew my girl was scared of very few things, but the dark? She’d kick the dark’s ass.

After a few much-needed laughs, we drop Cathy and Mark off at the hotel, promising to pick them up after class tomorrow to go take them out for some crabs. Excited, they walk away, both waving as they enter the lobby.

I pull out of the parking lot and head toward my condo, my mind a Molotov cocktail of emotions as I weave in and out of traffic. Amber stays quiet, rubbing her thumb along my knuckles, letting me have my space but, at the same time, letting me know she’s here for me. If nothing else comes of this night, at least my girl sees the evil that’s created the monster I’ve turned into.

Once parked in front of my place, I cut the engine, pluck a joint from the glove compartment, and light it up, taking a long pull as I turn to the angel at my side.

She gives me a wide smile, swiping the mood enhancer from my fingers after I’ve hit it a few times. “God, I’ve been waiting for this.” She hits it once, twice, her body noticeably relaxing as she blows out a ring of smoke, handing it back to me. “No kidding. Tonight was—”

“As crazy as I told you it’d get,” I interrupt, pulling one last, long hit into my lungs.

Amber nods, her smile disappearing as I stub out the joint, slipping what remains of it into my wallet.

I lean over the center console, cupping her cheeks. “I’m not a good man, Ber,” I whisper, searching her face. “I have my share of inconsistencies, but I own them, wake up to them every morning, go to sleep fighting them every night.” I touch my lips to hers, praying nothing she witnessed will have her running from the twistedness that is my life. “But even though I’m not good through and through, I’ll
always
give you everything I am. Take care of you to the best of my ability.” I kiss her slowly, ingraining this moment into my memory, hoping this isn’t the last time I’ll get to. “So please, just chill with me a while, okay?”

Another nod, this one as she places her hands over mine. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says, sincerity clinging to each word. “I promise, so stop worrying.” It’s her turn to kiss me, her cherry-flavored gloss, and little moans causing my heart to beat faster than a drum.

Kiss slowing, we get out of my ride and step into the elevator. As the doors part, I pull Amber into my embrace, praying that any kind of feelings this girl’s developing for me, if any at all, will keep her hanging on to her promise.

Keep her hanging on to what could very well cause her some of the most confusing hurt she’s ever been through.

Me . . .

CHAPTER 9

Amber

“
T
HAT’LL BE FOUR
dollars and fifty cents,” the barista announces.

Standing in a Starbucks just off campus, I dig through my purse for my wallet. No luck. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I mumble. “I don’t have any cash or cards with me.” Exhausted, I bring my eyes to hers, an embarrassed smile on my face. “Can you put it to the side while I go . . .” I trail off, realizing the barista is my mute roommate, Madeline.

Considering our boyfriends are in
business
together, we’ve been forced to hang out here and there, but other than that, we haven’t spoken to each other since the night she told me about Brock.

It’s safe to say that the last two months have been nothing short of awkward.

“There are people who have
jobs
to get to,” some douche barks from the line behind me. I glance at him from over my shoulder and watch him stretch out an annoyed arm, impatiently checking his watch. “Can we get moving here?”

I take a deep breath, my muscles trembling from lack of sleep as I focus on trying not to lose my shit. I decide against telling him to
fuck off, rolling my eyes at him instead. Before I can note his reaction, I bring my attention back to Madeline and she’s . . . smiling.

Not a
you’re screwed
smile, but a genuine, understanding, sneaky half smile.

“It’s on the house,” Madeline whispers. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Aww. She doesn’t have any money,” a familiar feminine Southern drawl says, its overly sweet tone hitting my ears like acid rain.

I straighten and turn around, locking eyes on Hailey Jacobs. She casts me a snake’s smile. I don’t return it. Just seeing her after her most recent attempt to drive me insane makes my blood boil. Why bother pretending?

“Now, now, Madeline,” Hailey continues, the canny thrust in her words holding the proper amount of malicious amusement. With her hand buried in a Gucci purse—which I’m sure cost more than my car—she steps from the line, produces a leather wallet, and plucks out a ten-dollar bill. “You wouldn’t want to lose your job by
lying
for Amber, would you?”

Her statement comes out loud enough, making Madeline’s manager whip around, his brows furrowed in concern. Madeline’s face freezes, Hailey smirks, and I have a sudden overwhelming need to smack the bitch. With her fiery eyes promising retaliation, Madeline snatches the bill from Hailey and rings up my order.

“No!” I croak over the grumbling sighs in the background. “I don’t want her paying for me.”

“Just let her,” Madeline implores. “My boss is watching, and there’s a shitload of people waiting.”

Is this what I’ve been reduced to? Hailey Jacobs—an overprivileged snarky bitch who’s been stalking me since I started dating Brock—paying for my four-fifty Frappuccino?

I look at Madeline’s worried face and determine that, yes, I have been reduced to this. I grit my teeth, my scowl aimed in Hailey’s direction.

Hesitation burns my hand as I take the Frappuccino from Madeline and mouth,
I’m sorry
.

Madeline mouths back,
No problem
.

The reassuring look in her eyes tells me I haven’t done too much harm. Still, it doesn’t stop me from feeling bad. I turn, pathetically ducking past the line of aggravated, caffeine-crazed patrons. I’m sure the mob is about to pounce on me.

I feel Hailey’s wicked presence on my heels as I locate an empty table in the back corner. I take a seat, pull out an essay for biology class, and begrudgingly take a sip of my Hailey-Jacobs-bought Frappuccino.

It tastes sour.

As I scan the drivel I’ve composed, I can sense the snake-with-tits’ eyes on me. It’s making me uncomfortable. I can’t help but wonder why I’m not used to it by now. In the several schools I attended, I stumbled across her type more times than I care to remember.

Hailey’s the girl who’ll pledge you her undying friendship, then fuck your boyfriend behind your back. The kind of girl who’ll use your weaknesses to her advantage, making you feel beneath her when she’s truly the pathetic one. The kind of girl who’ll smile pretty in your face, but the second you turn around shove an axe into your spine, slowly exposing every secret you’ve trusted her with. Rotten to their decaying cores and traveling in hungry packs, girls such as Hailey Jacobs are scattered throughout every school across the globe . . . axes tight in their grips.

A split second before I decide to go somewhere else, Hailey approaches the table and slides into a chair across from me. My chest tightens.

“Amber,” she says, twisting her lips into a pout, “why can’t we just be friends?”

“This is a joke, right?” I swivel my head, looking for hidden cameras.

She gives a casual shrug. “Why would it be a joke?”

“Let’s see,” I say, trying to sound unaffected by this bitch’s vile attempt to gain anything from me. I cross my arms, my head dizzy from the list of reasons she’s not to be trusted. “Where should I begin? Let’s start with I know it’s you whose been slipping those
love
notes under my dorm door. What was it you called me? Hadley’s queen whore?”

“I heard about those.” She snorts, her smile smug. “I also heard the student board doesn’t know
who
it is because your perpetrator’s been dressed from head to toe in black every time one was left. Whoever’s been doing it is pretty smart too, since they’re using a stamp and not actually writing anything. Seems they have a few ups on everyone.” Her periwinkle eyes narrow as her smile widens. “I have
beautiful
penmanship, which I love to show off, and not even for you would I be caught
dead
in black. It’s not my color.”

“You think I’ve never been called a whore?” I lean forward, my eyes hardening. “Try being original, bitch. Think of something new the next time you give me one.”

“Oh, I’m more than
positive
you’ve been called it several times, and if we’re being honest, there’s no way to be original when it comes to whores like you. You’re all the same.” She mimics my pose and leans across the table, obviously amused. “Anything else you feel like blaming on me?”

“Yeah, there is,” I grit out, trying to maintain my composure. “You running me off the road.”

“I did
no
such thing,” she huffs, her perfectly waxed eyebrows rising. “I’m offended you would think I’ve done
any
of these hideous things to you.”

“You’re full of shit,” I hiss, my tone doubled up in anger.

Being that she’s the only student at Hadley sporting a custom cherry-colored Range Rover, there’s no mistaking it was her. Not to mention I caught a glimpse of her golden locks as my car all but careened into a ditch on the side of I-95 the night it happened. I wanted
to bang my head against the steering wheel when I failed to catch her license plate.

“Well,” she says, screwing her mouth into a sneer as she stares at her bloodred nails, “without proper proof, I’d say all of your accusations are worth not an ounce of anyone’s time.”

Though I’m shaking with adrenaline, I close my eyes, forcing myself to think of unicorns, puppies, and happy shit like that. Not the best coping mechanism, but if I don’t do it, I’ll be spending the night curled up on a wooden bench in the local precinct for attempted murder.

I open my eyes and take a deep breath, determined not to let her get to me any further. “What do you want from me, Hailey?”

She rests her elbows on the table, her voice sugary sweet. “So how are things going with you and Brock?”

“That’s none of your business,” I point out, convinced the girl is bipolar.

“Why not?”

“Do I really need to explain that?”

“I’m just trying to make friendly conversation.” She twirls her hair between her fingers as she leans back. “Considering it’s almost October, and he’s never been known to stay with a piece of ass past a couple of dates, one must assume things are going well. Still, a girl as naïve as yourself may find his . . .
employment
somewhat difficult to handle. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“You want to make sure I’m happy?” I laugh, so over her act. “Enough with the bullshit. I have a paper to finish. What the fuck do you really want from me?”

“I want to get to know you, Amber.
Really
know you.” She glances at her nails a second time, her voice sliding into huntress mode. “You come from a
very
tragic past, and I can’t help but find myself curious about a girl who’s seen such terrible, horrifying things.”

My every muscle goes taut, all concerns about spending the night
in the slammer vanishing from my brain. “How do you know
anything
about me?”

“I have my
close
 . . . sources.”

On a shaky breath, I spin over who could’ve said anything to her. Only Brock, Ryder, Lee, and Madeline know about my warped history. Brock may have told Ryder, but they’re best friends, and I know with everything in me that Brock would never say a word to this nut about my life. Never. I’m the guilty one who told Madeline and Lee. In a drunken stupor, I dished out my shit one night when I stumbled into our dorm room. Still, I can’t see either of them saying anything. They’d gain nothing from it.

However, Ryder would. Not once in the past month has he made a move on me, looked at me in a suggestive way, or spoken his usual smack. If anything, he’s been a total douche, ignoring my presence every time we’ve been around each other. Still, I thought I’d seen struggle in his eyes, felt it when we got too close. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

This must be his twisted way at getting back at me.

Hailey continues her mental fuck as she leans across the table, her tone dropping to a whisper. “So what was it like? Was there tons of blood everywhere? What was running through your mind when they closed their eyes for eternity? I’m thinking about doing a case study on sick psychos and their grieving little spawn. I figured you and your father would fit the bill
perfectly
.”

I swallow the hot bile bubbling in my throat, my body rattling uncontrollably with each breath I attempt to take. The ghosts from that evil day trample through my skull, but before I can react, I feel a soft hand on my shoulder.

“Leave her alone, you freak!” Madeline bellows, her brown eyes as wide as Hailey’s.

“How dare you talk to me like that!” Hailey jumps to her feet, her pissed-off lips curled over her fangs. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Frozen, I watch Madeline take a ground-eating step toward Hailey, their noses nearly smashed together. “I’m the bitch who’s about to beat you into the next millennium if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now.”

“I’m telling your boss!” Hailey spews in true kindergartener fashion. She shoves Gucci’s newest bag onto her arm and turns, running smack into the man I’m sure is about to fire Madeline. “Just the person I was looking for. Your employee’s threatening me!”

“And
you’re
harassing a patron of mine.” Though the steel set of his shoulders says he wants to take a good crack at her, Mr. Boss Man’s expression is eerily calm. “If you don’t remove yourself from my establishment within thirty seconds, I’ll be on the phone with the cops.”

Not only does Hailey’s mouth drop open, but so does mine.

“
Excuse
me?” Hailey’s eyes look like hula hoops.

“Do you need a hearing aid?” Boss Man crosses his arms, a cunning smile resting on his lips. “I thought I made myself pretty clear. Get out or go to jail. In my opinion, it’s not at all a hard decision.”

Hailey casts me one last glare, lets out a huff, and pivots, her body trembling as she pushes through the crowd.

“I apologize about that,” Mr. Boss Man says, extending his hand after the nutter exits the building.

I take it, completely confused. I thought for sure Madeline would be first in line at the unemployment office tomorrow morning.

“Once the rush let up, Madeline explained you’ve been having problems with that girl,” he adds.

“I have. Thanks for getting rid of it—I mean, her.” I give him a weak smile, my nerves starting to come down. “I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Madeline says, pulling out a chair across from me before readjusting her ponytail.

“Dad?”
I’m more confused than I was before.

“Yup,” Dad answers with a proud smile, smoothing a hand through
his salt-and-pepper hair. “She’s been calling me that for the last twenty-one years.”

Madeline grins. “I’m gonna take a quick fifteen, okay?”

He lays a quick kiss on the crown of Madeline’s head. “Take thirty. Maggie just clocked in, and I overscheduled Tim this morning.” He swings his attention back to me. “Nice meeting you, Amber.”

“You too.” As he walks away, I wonder if I’d have any kind of relationship with my parents if they were still alive. “I’m lost. I thought you and Lee are from California.”

“We are,” she says with a nod.

“But your parents moved here and own a Starbucks?” I crack a smile. “Was your mom
that
afraid of you leaving the nest?”

Madeline shakes her head and laughs. “No. My parents are divorced. My mother’s still back in Borrego Springs, and my father’s here in Davidsonville with his new wife. When Lee and I came to visit last summer, we decided to give the East Coast a try and settled on Hadley.”

“I see,” I draw out. “But why aren’t you living with him instead? Davidsonville’s pretty close, and room and board isn’t cheap.”

A wicked smile lights her face. “Daddy-o
owns
five of these here Starbucks, so he’s got a little cash to burn on the full college experience I so desperately requested. You know: drinking, partying, and tons of sex with Lee without having to answer to Pops.”

“Makes sense.” I grin, wondering why I didn’t catch that to begin with. “Your dad seems pretty cool.”

“He is,” Madeline says warily. “Caught you off guard with that. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

She shrugs, her eyes conveying what she doesn’t want to say.