Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1) (6 page)

When I moved her to the back to play darts, I was just trying to get away from Hank and his disapproving looks. I saw her checking me out, then turning pink and shy when I caught her. I should have left then, but I was up for a challenge. She was the opposite of the kind of girls I would normally take home and thoughts this could be fun.

The game of darts turned out to be the most entertaining game I ever played. She was terrible. Not one dart made it to the board. I watched her face grow red with frustration. She was getting so worked up over a game of darts. When I pushed her closer to the board, she gave me a look of shock. I couldn't help but laugh at it. She was really too good to cheat at a bar game. We couldn't be any more different.
 

When it became obvious she wasn't walking out of there on her own, I tried to find out how she would get home.
 

"Where do you live, sweetheart?" I asked close to her ear so she could hear me. I felt her shiver. I didn't like how much I liked to feel her shiver.

"Far," she slurred and stumbled closer into me.

"Do you have someone that could pick you up?" I asked her.
 

She grabbed my arm to balance herself. I stared at the contrast of her white, dainty hands on my dark, tattooed arms. Her perfectly manicured nails and sparkling rings looked even more delicate against my toughened, weathered skin.
 

"Nope. I'm all alone," she said, turning serious. I saw the sadness and grief behind her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes glazed over.
 

How could she be alone, have absolutely no one to love her? She is the kind of girl that boys fight over and then ask her father's permission for her hand in marriage. She is the kind of girl surrounded by friends and family who all fawn over her. A girl whose parents carry a photo of her in their wallet just to pull it out and brag about it in line at the bank.
 

I pulled her up straighter and walked her out of the bar. I couldn't leave her there. The big brother in me needed an ass-kicking. I held her upright as I guided her out to the parking lot. I struggled to keep my hands from drifting to explore the rest of her. She looked prim and proper on the outside, but my intoxicated mind wondered what she looked like under the dress.

Her dress did little to hide the perky chest and toned body under the thin fabric. Having her cling to me was testing my resolve. I could smell her sweet scent and feel the softness of her skin. As we walked down the street, I clenched my jaw in restraint. If she wasn't so wasted, I would be trying to keep her pressed up against me like this all night long.
 

I knew I should have stayed away from her the moment I saw her sitting on that barstool. Girls like that didn't need guys like me. Guys like me didn't need girls like that. She was good, pure, and everything I was not. In my experience, it was never a good idea to be a good girl's idea of rebellion, either.
 

Walking into work late this morning didn't help my day too much either. Travis followed me all the way from the parking lot to the office, barking at me for being late. I ignored him and tried to keep my temper in check while I looked at my to-do list for the day. I still had to finish Mr. May's Ford.
 

"Were you out drinking all night again, Brooks?" Travis accused, grabbing my shoulder to stop me. If he wasn't an old man, I would have knocked him on his ass.

"Dude, I'm here. Lay off," I said, brushing him off. He stormed out of the shop, grumbling to himself.

I popped the hood of the Mustang and started finishing up the blower we were installing. My head popped out when I saw Travis lowering a car down from the tow truck. I wasn't aware of any pickups today, and we don't normally get many emergency calls out here.
 

I started to wipe the grease off my hands and arms as I came out from under the hood. My sister came bouncing in with an apologetic look. Behind her, Miss America dodged puddles of oil and looked around in disgust. I could see the worry in her eyes over her expensive shoes, and then the shame in her face when she saw me. At that moment, I remembered why I never liked her kind before.

I took a good look at Kallie's car. I shouldn't have been surprised she drove a Mercedes. It was in great condition for its age. The engine overheated and cracked the cylinder head. Oil and antifreeze soaked everything under the hood. The whole motor was probably toast. You need to turn off a car when it's overheating to avoid serious damage.
 

A Georgetown parking pass was stuck to her windshield. Not only was she rich, but she was smart. People in this town were lucky to graduate high school. Scarlett was enrolled in community college, and I couldn't be more proud of her for doing something with her life. Just another reason this lost girl didn't belong around me.
 

Explaining the car fiasco to the Princess only upset her. I tried not to get angry with her and remember the privileged were used to getting their way. She was young and probably not used to being told "no." That's what I told myself to keep my temper in check when she threw a little tantrum about waiting weeks for her precious car.
 

This was probably her beater car, anyway. We had clients here that were loyal, and more importantly friends, and that meant more here than her money and power. I knew money wasn't a concern for her; she just wanted this done as soon as possible. I wanted her gone as well, but I couldn’t pull a rare engine out of my ass.
 

When she stormed off across the street, Scarlett gave me a look that could kill. Ever since we were toddlers, we could communicate with just looks. We chalked it up to a weird twin thing. Scarlett could give a look that could scold you more than my mother's screaming ever would. I shivered and looked away from her.
 

I watched in confusion as she stormed out of the garage to watch Kallie, where she was sitting on a bench across the street. Scarlett knew me better than anyone. She knew I didn't have relationships, and I wasn't the nicest guy, either. Watching Kallie, I could see she was shaking from crying and I almost strode across the street to comfort her. I stopped by Scarlett and leaned up against the wall next to her, trying to look causal.

"What's her deal?" I asked.

"Don't know. She doesn't seem to want to go home, but has no where else to go," she answered.

"And no way to get there, either," I added.

Scarlett mentally slapped me across the face, and I stepped back from the fierce look. She turned and went across the street to sit with Kallie. Scarlett was always the caring one. She was the one with feelings and a heart. My mother used to say we were both one half of a perfect person. I was the bad half, and she was all the good.
 

When Scarlett led Kallie back to garage, I had her sign the paperwork to start the job. The two girls left without telling me where they were going. I didn't bother asking them, though. Maybe Scarlett was taking her home. She could send her chauffeur to retrieve the car in a few weeks.
 

A quick search online proved the engine would be harder to find than I thought, and I knew it wouldn't be easy. The few I found were overseas and would cost more than the parts just to ship. I was sure money was not the issue for her, but explaining to Travis to pay for it up front wouldn't be easy. I printed up the listing and decided to talk to Travis about it later. Maybe the Princess would pay a deposit.
 

I went back to working on Mr. May's car for several hours. I texted Scarlett a few times to see where she was. I never got an answer, which was odd for her. She always had her phone glued to her hand. She must be really mad to ignore me.
 

I buried myself in my work, trying to keep my mind off the brokenhearted look on Kallie's face when she left the garage. I knew nothing about her and didn't need to. She was better off leaving her car as scrap and never looking back. This town eats you alive, and you will never walk out of it unscathed.
 

My phone started ringing and I quickly grabbed it out my pocket, hoping it was my sister. I was shocked to see Logan's name on the screen. He rarely called, mostly texted. I quickly answered the phone, waiting for an emergency.

"Yo," I answered, wiping grease off my hands and arms.

"What's up, dude?" he asked, sounding casual.

"Not much. Working. Everything okay? You never call," I asked.

"Well, if you didn't ignore my texts, I wouldn't have to call," he snapped.

"Whatever," I brushed him off.

"Bonfire at my place this weekend. You guys should come out," he told me.
 

Logan's fires were legendary around here. Everyone who was anyone would be there. We would light pallets and furniture on fire, making flames almost two stories high. Scarlett and I went to every one since we were freshman in high school.

"I don't know, man," I mumbled. The last bonfire I went to turned into the worse night of my life. I didn't know if I could ever go back there without thinking about that night.

"Oh, come on. You guys gotta come," he whined. "You only call me when you need a ride home after drinking, which is happening a shit load lately, and it's not fun for me."

He was right. He was always there for me whenever I needed him. I called him up too many times to count already this summer, wasted and needing a ride. I’d known Logan since the second grade, and since then, the two of us, along with Scarlett, were inseparable. I couldn't just blow him off because I was miserable. Most importantly, I didn't have a clue how to talk myself out of it to Scarlett.
 

She would know immediately something was wrong. I would never skip one of his parties. It was always my duty to light the pile. It was a tradition. I was also not the kind of guy to turn down unlimited amounts of alcohol. She would know I was avoiding his place for a reason. A reason I never wanted her to know about.

"We'll be there," I finally told him.

Logan was finally satisfied and let me off the phone. I finished up Mr. May's car just in time for him to pick it up on his way home from work. After handing over the keys, my phone buzzed in my pocket again. I pulled it out and saw red.

Kallie is staying with us for now. Be nice. Shut up. - S

Kallie

We pulled up to the parking lot and we grabbed my bags from the trunk.
 
My heart was racing with the anticipation of seeing Ryder. I had no idea how to act around him. I had only ever been with Carter, so awkward moments with strangers like this never happened to me. I took a deep breath and followed behind Scarlet to the stairs leading to their apartment.
 

I figured if he was going to act like nothing happened, then I would do the same. He obviously wanted nothing to do with me, so I would stay out of his way. I would keep my head down and get out of this town in one piece as soon as my car was repaired. Since Ryder wants me out of town just as bad, he will most likely rush my car along.
 

I dropped my bags on the floor once we entered the apartment. Scarlett gave me a quick tour of the place. There was a small kitchen to the right with a breakfast bar that opened into the living room. The living room had a small plaid couch, a large recliner and a big-screen TV. Scarlett motioned off to Ryder's room, which was through the French doors off the living room. I blushed thinking how intimately I already knew that room.
 

Scarlett's bedroom was smaller and on the opposite side of the living room. There was another bathroom next to her room. The bathroom had a beach-themed shower curtain and was decorated with seashells and shades of tan and blues. The counter was littered with hair products and makeup.
 

"This bathroom is pretty much mine. Ryder never uses it," she explained when she caught me checking out all girly stuff.

"I can tell," I laughed.
 

"Anyways, that's it. Make yourself at home," she told me, flopping herself onto the recliner.
 

Sitting on the weathered couch, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. My body sank into the cushions. The couch may have looked like it had better days, but it was probably the most comfortable piece of furniture I’d ever sat in. I closed my eyes and tried to push away all the questions and worries flooding my mind.

A door closed, startling me, and I jumped up off the couch. Ryder was in the kitchen dropping keys on the counter and giving me a quizzical look. I looked around the living room and realized Scarlett was no longer there. I must have dozed off. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to come up with something to say to him.

"Oh good, you're home," Scarlett said, saving me from any further embarrassment.
 

"I am," he grunted back at her. "I see our house guest is here, too."

"Yep," she chirped. I couldn't tell if she was ignoring the tension, or was completely unaware.
 

I decided it was time that I finally spoke and stepped up the bar. "How much do you guys want for me staying here?" I asked. I didn't need him to think I was a leech.

"This isn't a hotel," Ryder grumbled while grabbing some beers out of the fridge. He slid one over the counter to me. I shook my head and slid it back. I didn't need a repeat of last night.

"We can figure it out tomorrow," Scarlett offered, glaring at her brother and taking the beer I denied. "So, what should we do for dinner?"
 

"I'll cook," I said stupidly.
 

"Oh great! Are you a good cook?" Scarlett asked, leaning across the bar like she was in suspense.
 

"Um," I was reaching for words.

"You can't cook, can you?" Ryder said, giving me a knowing smile.

"A little," I said, starting to google recipes on my phone. I didn't have any idea what I was looking for.