Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series) (5 page)

“Where the hell is she?” Tate asked as I put my foot down on the gas, and speed off campus.

I could feel Tate’s eyes on me again. I blocked him out, blocked everything out. My only thought was her, and getting her home. Safe. I maneuvered the truck through the evening traffic, trying hard not to lose control on my nerves. I pushed our way through the winding side roads, trying to navigate where I needed to be.

The traffic was light, but it didn't feel as though we were moving fast enough. My eyes stared straight out of the windshield and fixed onto the road. As long as I could remember the address she gave me, I knew my mind would take over and take me to her.

“Logan, will you just tell me where the fuck she is?” Tate asked calmly from the passenger seat.

The calmness in his voice sent my already shaky nerves up a couple of notches. How the hell is he so calm? I’m a fucking wreck and I haven’t even found her. I threw my phone at him. I needed him to listen in. I couldn’t do it while I was driving.

“Marriott Drive.” I grunted. “Tate, this could get pretty nasty. We need to call the cops.”

The thought of having to call the cops because we didn’t know what we were about to walk into scared the living shit out of me. We could get there and find her... No. Stop thinking, dipshit. I needed to concentrate on getting us there, and quick.

“I know,” he said softly.

That’s all he gave me before calling 9-1-1 on his phone. He placed my phone on speakerphone so we could listen to what's going on while he speaks to the cops on his phone. Letting them know all the information we have.

“What’s the matter, Neva? Too scared to take revenge on the man who killed your father? You’re just as pathetic as he was. Do it, Neva. Do it and lets see if it gets rid of your guilt.”

“Jesus,” I whispered as we pulled onto Marriot Drive.

Chapter Three

Neva

"Baby, get him off me. I can't breathe," Angel begged, his breath short and labored as he spoke. 

I suddenly froze, Angel's voice breaking through the dark, thick cloud that hung over my thoughts. I looked into his eyes, the eyes that once pulled me out from the murky depths of my depression and into the light. An involuntary shiver ran through my bones; his eyes no longer felt as though they could heal my pain, they felt like they could shatter me further.
  

"Please, baby. Help me," he gasped, his face was pale and his eyes less vibrant than before.

"Don't help him, Neva. He lied to you, he brought you here. He did this!" Jack bickered, turning his head towards me. 

He was right, Angel had done this, he had lied to me. But I had done the same, I had hid my past like a dirty secret.

"Stand up," I said, surprising myself. As much as Angel had lied to me, I couldn't let Jack hurt him any more than he already had. 

My knees screamed in pain as I moved my tight muscles. As I got to my feet, I realized I hadn't thought this through, Jack had a good foot height advantage over me and before I could think about what I should do, the knife was thrown across the floor.
 

I could hear Angel coughing and spluttering as he tried to sit up from the floor, but I couldn't see him. Jack was towering over my cowering frame with a determined grin on his face; it was only then that I could really take in his features. His jawline was tight and pronounced, chiseled and strong. His eyes were an unbelievable mixture of blues and gold, not quite brown and not quite blue. They were intense and frightening. They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul, but the only thing I could see was darkness, there was no light in his eyes, no flicker of hope. Nothing.
  

I screamed out in pain as Jack took hold of my welt-covered wrist, bending it painfully behind my back as he threw me down to the floor, hard. The collision of my body against the hard ground pushed all of the air out of my lungs painfully, but I didn't have time to think or feel. I quickly reached out for the knife discarded on the floor beside me, swinging it back and plunging down hard.
 

I felt numb, my whole body burned with adrenaline as my chest heaved with harsh breaths. It was as if I were no longer in my own body, it was as if I were floating above my own body and watching without a care or feeling. There was no pain, there was only the thundering sound of my beating heart that rang through my ears, painfully so. 

A scream pulled me from my hazy trance as I tried to grasp what the hell had just happened, I had no idea who screamed, was it me? Was I hurt? I opened my eyes truly for the first time in ten years, I thought nothing could petrify me more than what I went through with my father, but right now, I could feel the same terror as I watched blood trickle down the blade of the knife. The knife that was in my hand, the knife I had used.
 

"You fucking bitch!" Jack screamed, the pain in his voice making me turn to face him.
 

Oh. My. God.
  

Jack's right leg was pouring with blood, it was everywhere: his hands, his jeans, his boots, the floor. He desperately tried to stop the blood that was gushing from the knife wound on his leg. But I couldn't react, I couldn't think, I couldn't move.
 

I slowly turned my gaze to Angel, who now sat on the ground, propped up against the opposite wall. His breathing had evened out and color had come back to his defined cheek bones, but they were now covered in tears. He looked deflated, pained, and broken; he looked nothing like the man I thought I knew.
 

"Dad?" Angel whispered, his voice hoarse and shaky.
  

"This is your fucking fault! You piece of shit, you did this." Jack roared as he turned to his son. "You were never supposed to be born. What the fuck are you even doing here?"
 

Jack's face was multiple shades of red as he screamed at his son, trying to stop the flow of blood at the same time. All I could do was stare and watch Angel break further, not knowing whether the situation was breaking him or his father's words. Either way, Angel was shattering in front of me and no matter what he had done or what secret he had kept, I wasn't going to let my fallen Angel plunge into the darkness.
 

"Stop it! Just stop!" I screamed at Jack. "He is your son, how dare you speak to him like that!"
 

"What, are you serious? The fucker ruined everything, you are supposed to be bleeding out right now but instead it's me!" Jack screeched, the pain evident on his face as his lips formed into a tight line on his face.
 

"Say another word about him like that and I will gut you," I said in a slow determined voice.
 

 
I had no idea what had come over me or where the hell this confidence had come from, but I was grabbing it with both hands, I needed to protect him from his own demon.  

"Neva, don't." Angel's voice soft and smooth like velvet, despite the pain.
 

"Listen to your piece of shit boyfriend, princess." Jack smiled as he glanced at Angel, winking at him.
 

Rage hammered through my body at a furious pace, chipping away at the little restraint I had left. Suddenly, I was charging towards Jack, my steps hard and fast as my body twisted with every move I made. Jack's face was a picture of fear as I reared my arm back, tightening my grip around the knife, still covered in his blood. I watched as Jack's eyes bore straight through me as if waiting for the blow, he knew it was coming and wasn't going to hide from it.

Chapter Four

Logan

            
 
“Dude, the cops told us to wait for them!” Tate yelled as I jumped out of the truck.

             
“I’m not waiting, Tate,” I deadpanned.

             
I needed to find her. It was the only thing that was running through my mind, keeping me grounded, stopping me from running into an unbreakable fit of rage. Turning hard, I threw myself into a run. I Spotted the house she said she was at. I turned my head as I made my way up to the porch, spotting Tate sheepishly get out of the truck.

             
“Christ,” I whispered through panting breaths.

             
We knew who was in there, we knew who had threatened her. It was him, the man who fucking broke her by breaking apart her family. I could see the desperation on Tate’s face, he was torn. He loved his sister, she was the one thing that kept him firmly on the straight and narrow. I couldn’t count the times I saw his shoulders shudder with silent tears, he never even knew I was watching. But, I did, every time. His father’s death had broken them both, but what Tate had to deal with and witness when he was a child tore him in two.

He was reluctant to go in there and face the man who had broken everything, I understood it. But at the same time, he was clearly desperate to get to his sister.

I reached the door, but swiftly realized it was locked when I jiggled the handle. Shit. Scanning the house, I tried to spot an open window or a side door. I couldn’t see any. Running around to the back porch, I spotted the door that lead out to the back yard. Trying the door, I breathed a sigh of relief when I it click open. Thank fuck.

I was going through the motions in my head. Find her, grab her, and get her out. Nothing else was important. I knew the temptation would be there to kill the bastard hurting her, but she doesn’t need that. She needs to be taken away from it.

As I walked through the small kitchen, I listened for anything that would clue me in to where they were. I couldn't hear anything. I made my way through the hallway, peeking my head around the door of the living room on my way. There was no one in there, but on the coffee table sat three mugs of still-warm coffee. Someone was definitely here. Turning around, I took a step towards the staircase when something caught my eye. It’s a photograph. Standing with a beautifully put-together woman, was him. Angel. His eyes were just as blue, but they look sad and hollow.

"You fucking bitch!"

My heart hammered against my chest as I heard the fucker's scream. Scanning my eyes around the hallway, I spotted a door underneath the stairs. My entire body went numb as I threw open the door and ran down a set of stairs, crashing my body through another door at the bottom.

Jesus H. Christ.

My heart fell out of my ass. Neva was charging towards an injured man with so much damn assurance it’s frightening. She has a fucking knife, and the guy’s leg was spitting out blood through his fingers. Shit. I needed to stop her.

“Neva! Put the knife down,” I said in a calm but firm voice.

She froze, her whole body became rigid and tense as she whispers my name. I had to swallow the lump that suddenly made itself at home in my throat. Jesus.

“Put the knife down, baby.” I whisper in the voice that always has been for her. “Sweetheart, put it down. It’s okay.”

My heart shattered as sobs broke through her beautiful lips. Her body shuddered violently, the knife dropping from her fingertips as she all but fucking broke into tiny pieces in front of me. My legs moved of their own accord. Her fragile body weakened and started to fall. And I don’t think I was breathing.

She dropped down onto her hands and knees before I could get to her, the sobs breaking through the eerie silence in the room. I blocked everything out, my focus solely on her. She looked so small, so fucking breakable, as I dropped to my knees beside her. I gently wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her towards me; her cold, wet body softly lulls against mine. And this is where I am supposed to be. Wrapped around her, loving only her.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I love you, Neva. Fuck, I love you so damn much."

The words spill from my lips as the last of my control finally disappears. She's safe. She's with me. She's mine. The room quickly filled with cops and paramedics, but I heard them before I saw them. My eyes never left hers, not once.

“You came.”

Her voice was husky and sounded painful. Christ, what has he done to her? Her eyes were fluttering, as if she was falling asleep. I needed to keep her awake. I slowly rained soft kisses across her beautiful face, careful not to hurt her. Her body responded immediately to my touch, covering her head to toe in goosebumps. I trailed my lips from her swollen red cheeks to her ear, hoping to god she will understand me.

“I will always find you, Neva. Always.”

Chapter Five

Neva

Antiseptic. I could smell it, I could taste it, I could feel it. It's harsh and potent against my nostrils, stinging my eyes even though they weren't open. My eyelids felt swollen and heavy as if paralyzed by a weight that won't let up, keeping me suspended in the dark. I wanted to open my eyes, but the more I tried, the more the darkness pulled me under, casting its black blanket over my fragile body.