Live for You (16 page)

“
I didn’t hurt her,” I say
through gritted teeth.

“
Right. You just found
her, slicing into her own arm and called 911.”

He’s a damn genius.
“Pretty much. Maybe you should offer to do some consulting for one
of those CSI shows.”
Asshole.

Apparently, Ford doesn’t
find my suggestion helpful or funny. He yanks my hair, snapping my
head back and slams my face into the wall again.

My knees threaten to give
out. “
Shit
!” I
blink, my mouth opening wide as I work my jaw.

“
Leave him alone, Brett,”
my mother wails. “If you ever cared anything about me, you’ll let
him go.”

What the hell? Ford eases
the pressure he’s put on my arms, but he still locks the handcuffs
around my wrists.

He spins me around and I’m
shocked beyond reason to see my mother lurching toward us, broken
bottle in one hand. She shakes it at Ford and not me. She’s fucking
defending me. “Get those damn handcuffs off my son, or so help me
God, I’ll cut you.”

“
Jesus Christ, Crystal.
The house’s a wreck. You’re both covered in blood and he’s got a
mile long rap sheet. What did you expect me to think?”

Crystal advances a few more
steps, blood dripping on the floor as she moves. “I expected you to
ask questions.” She staggers to one side and braces her shoulder
against the wall. “It was an accident. I cut…myself while…
cooking.” Her words are less pronounced now. “Can’t make…me press
charges.”

Ford runs a shaky hand
through his buzz cut. His mouth twists.

The wail of sirens grows
louder. Tires crunch over gravel. My heart’s racing, because I have
no idea what my mother will do, what Ford will do, or what will
happen to me. I’m all my little sister has. Parker’s coming around
less and less while Crystal can’t be trusted to stay, much less
feed and clothe Kelly.

“
Have it your way,” he
says, releasing me from the handcuff and I rush to Crystal. She
drops the bottle and falls into me. I sink to the floor with her,
stroking her head and saying God knows what.

“
Oh my handsome boy has a
booboo?”My mother kisses my finger and wraps a band-aid around the
minuscule scratch. “Better?”

I shake my head and hold
out my arms.

“
Need some extra love,
baby?” she asks and I nod. A gentle smile curves her lips and she
sits down in the floor with me, holding me close while smelling of
perfume and booze.

Crystal gazes up at me, her
skin white around her lips. “I saved your ass. Tell me where the
money is.”

I’ll say anything just to
keep her talking. No matter how much she continues to hurt me. No
matter how much she continues to prove that she’s still selfish as
hell. I don’t wish death on her. “Kelly’s room, inside of the bear
Miss Violet gave her.”

Her eyes flutter close.
Ford lets in the paramedics. Just as they reach us she leans up and
whispers, “Get out of my house.”

The last pieces of my heart
that were reserved for Crystal crumble to dust. Flashing a smirk, I
stand, then head to my room, pack up what’s left of my shit and
leave.

Chapter
Sixteen

Violet

“
You have a visitor,” Nana
says as she pokes her head into my room. She’s beaming from head to
toe.

Joy bubbles inside of me.
It’s Cole. He’s come to apologize or take me out. I close my
laptop, pause at the closet mirror to straighten my clothes and run
a quick hand through my hair. A dash of cherry lip gloss and I’m
practically running down the hallway—

And straight into Lacey
Evans. My new smile falls away and I slow my pace.

Tonight, she’s wearing a
t-shirt with a Wrigley’s Gum slogan and a pair of pants so loose
that they resemble a long skirt. The socks on her feet are striped.
Had she roller skated down here again?

Nana gently pats Lacey on
the arm. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. Need to pack up for my
trip.”

I wait until she disappears
before I even dare to speak. “Did I leave something in your
car?”

Brown eyes water as she
stares at a point over my shoulder. Her lower lip trembles and I
shove my hands into my pockets so I won’t hug her. She seems so
lost and alone…a little vulnerable, and I’m all too familiar with
those emotions.

“
I came by to apologize.
Again,” she says with a gulp.

“
You’re forgiven,” I say
while feeling the exact opposite of benevolent.

Thick bangs fall in her
eyes when she shakes her head, but she doesn’t try to move them out
the way. Maybe it’s her version of armor. “I’m sorry for hurting
your feelings, Rae. I’m sorry for not taking you home, too.” She
pauses and her nose scrunches a bit, like she’s trying to remember
what she’s supposed to say next. “I’d like to do something again.
Maybe something you would like doing. What do you like
doing?”

My brows raise. I can’t
help it. My anger is slowly ebbing away and a rush of sympathy is
replacing it. She came to all the way here to apologize. The least
I can do is try again. It’s not like she’d shouted what she’d found
on the Internet to the entire restaurant.

“
Oh I don’t know…maybe get
our hair or nails done. Go shopping. Go to the movies. Out to eat.”
I let a smile curve my lips, the thought of actually doing things
with a girl my age making me happy. “I know! We could drive to
Charlotte and go to the mall.”

Lacey steps back, her eyes
wide and her face pale. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she repeats,
more firmly this time. Her hand comes up, grabbing a hunk of auburn
hair and wrapping it around two fingers. “I don’t know. I don’t
know. I don’t—” She smashes her lips together and marches to the
door, not saying good-bye.

What did I say?
“Lacey?”

She turns around and
marches back to me, one arm swinging. “Nails. I like having my
nails painted.”

“
Then that’s what we’ll
do.”

“
This coming Friday, at
three. I have to be at work at five. My nails will be dry by then.”
Letting go of her hair, she looks at me, straight on this time.
“Next time, give me less choices. Can I take home one of your new
kittens? I love animals.”

I blink at her. The change
in topic makes my head whirl. “S-sure.” I was planning on putting
up an ad at the Piggly Wiggly the next time we went, so one less
free
kitteh
to a
good home was a good thing.

We stand there for a few
more minutes, Lacey once again staring at the wall behind me while
I look around the room.

“
Should we go to the barn
and let you pick out a kitten?” I finally ask.

She nods and follows me
outside. After spending a few minutes with the momma cat, Lacey
picks out a black one and rubs her cheek against it. “Soft like
Wyatt’s hair,” she whispers.

I grin. “I don’t think
Wyatt would like to be compared to cat fur.”

She rubs the kitten again.
“He wouldn’t mind.”

No, he probably wouldn’t.
“Are you sure Wyatt’s not sweet on you?” I tease when we walk back
to the house.

“
Wyatt is my best friend,
Rae.”

“
Mmm-hmm.”

“
Sometimes, I want
more.”

“
Then what’s stopping
you?” I ask, then recall what Cole had told me about Wyatt’s
parents.

“
I’m not normal. Wyatt
deserves normal.”

In that moment, I feel a
kinship with Lacey and almost like I understand where she’s coming
from. Both trying to hide the real us. “Honey, none of us are
normal. We’re all just trying to get by, without going over the
ledge.”

Lacey pauses, still
cuddling the kitten to her face. “And some of us are holding onto
the ledge with our fingertips and it’s been raining for
days.”

Slowly, I slip my hand into
hers and squeeze gently. For some reason I feel like I can trust
her. Or at least try to.

I let go and follow her to
the front porch, before saying good-bye.

*** *** ***

Cole

There’s only one rule of
bartending that I live by. Well, other than don’t overcharge the
patrons of The Double Deuce.

Anyway, back to rule number
one: Don’t get drunker than your customers. But that rule is fucked
all to hell and back tonight.

I take another shot and
shove a wedge of lemon into my mouth. Some hot blonde offered to
let me lick salt off of her boobs, but I declined and licked my own
arm—at least I think it was my arm.

Anyway, if my mouth is
going to be on some hot girl’s tits, her name better be Rae and she
better have short blond hair tipped in purple. A glossy pink mouth
made for kissing me and hands that like to grip my shoulders when
I’m making love to her against the wall of the shower.

The room spins.
“
Shit
,” I
mumble.

There’s nothing I’d like
more than to go to Rae, but blood is still on my hands and under my
skin. I can’t wash it away. “Can’t touch her with these,” I say as
money is waved under my nose.

I look down at the money,
then up at the guy holding it. Well, hello again, long coat dude.
“Back for another round of getting the shit beat of you.” Not a
question. I
will
beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Again.

He smirks. “Hundred bucks
says you can’t go two rounds with my friend.”

I roll my head to one side,
looking around long coat guy. His friend is standing to the side,
head shaved, neck tats to his chin and ear gauges bigger than mine
in his lobes. Nodding, I smirk. “Let’s go.”

Parker suddenly shows up,
grabbing my arm. His green eyes, all four of them, gleaming with
concern. “Don’t do it. You’re drunk off your ass and we’re slammed.
I don’t have time to have your back tonight.”

I grab my brother in a
loose headlock, rumpling his hair. “Love you, Park.” Yeah, I’m
actually a nice drunk. A nice, feeling-the-love,
can’t-turn-down-a-bet drunk. A total source of hilarity with my
friends.

Parker slips out of my hold
and pushes the two fifties back at long coat dude. “Sorry, not
tonight boys.”

“
I got your boys right
here, son,” Baldy snarls, grabbing his crotch.

“
You have small children
tucked in your pants?” Did I mention that I’m a sarcastic drunk,
too? “That’ll send you to jail,
son.
”

My head hits the shelves
behind me, bottles falling and crashing. I wince and rub the back
of my head. My eye’s killing me now.

“
Sucker punch?
Oh hell, no
,” Parker
says, jumping up and over the bar.

Next thing I know, my
brother’s on top of Baldy, pummeling the dude for all he’s worth.
Long coat dude is circling the duo, watching and waiting. I shake
my head, room spinning, blurring and sort of coming back into
focus. I climb on top of the bar and crouch down.

The crowd cheers. Parker
stops for half a second to look around.

Long coat dude sees his
chance and pounces.

So. Do. I.

*** *** ***

Violet

It’s Monday night and I’m
all alone.

This morning Nana left for
a week long cruise with a group of ladies that graduated high
school with her. Their once a year tradition.

A part of me misses her
company, but a larger part of me is glad she’s not here to see me
mope around and generally feel sorry for myself.

Though I’d never gone to
high school due to my touring schedule, I had thought I might have
something similar to look forward to with Callie, but sleeping with
your best friend’s boyfriend tends to strain a relationship. At
first I was hurt, then after our argument at Club Blue, I hated
her; and when I was broken and bleeding, I only wanted her by my
side.

Callie never
came.

Now it’s as though we were
never friends, never knew each other and giggled over boys and
clothes.

I heat up a plate of
homemade spaghetti and meatballs. While it’s spinning in the
microwave, I fix a side salad and grab the cheese toast from the
small toaster oven on the counter, then take all of it to the
living room.

Barely tasting the
delicious food, I channel surf, find nothing but some woman gushing
over my ex in an interview—he’s branching out into films. I make a
face and click off the television, wishing I had someone to talk
to.

Calling Lacey is out of the
question, since I still haven’t gotten her number. I haven’t spoken
to Cole since Saturday night. Not that I’m keeping time or
anything. Maybe this is how things go down in the real
world?

More importantly, nothing
else has been reported about my
miscarriage
on the Internet. Ha!
Miscarriage implies a woman loses a baby through no fault of her
own. No one made me get in that car and drive, not that I’m aware
of, though that text to a cab company will haunt me for the rest of
my days. Why didn’t I wait for it?