Recklessly (37 page)

“Char!” Wes said as he took the steps two at a time. “Charlotte!” He knocked on her bedroom door.

“What?” she called from inside.

“We need to talk. Now.”

“No. I’m tired.”

“Oh, I bet you are. You’ve been partying nonstop—”

“Ha! You’re one to talk. Have you seen this place lately, Wes? It’s a goddamn shithole.”

“Have
you
seen this place
lately
? ‘Cause we sure as hell haven’t seen you. Are you even really back in school?”

There was movement inside and then she was at the door. “You’ve seen me now. Happy?” She tried to pull the door shut again, but he blocked it.
Shit.
Wes’ heart slammed into his stomach as he took her in. Her pupils. They were as big as plates and she had squinted against the dim hallway light. And she was drowning in her baggy clothing.

Wes clutched her arm. “What the hell, Char? You
are
on drugs!”

“Let go of me!” Charlotte wrenched out of his grip, but he pushed past her and walked into her room. “Get out! Get out now!”

“This is
my
house, Char!” Wes spun to face her, horrified at how she looked as he scrutinized her further. Jesus. Charlotte really was doing drugs, and he’d barely noticed. Had Lana known about this since the Surf for Life party and not said anything specifically because she hadn’t wanted him to know she was in O.C.? And had she thrown the suspicion on him the night they were leaving for the awards show as a way of letting him know? Everything was spiraling, and he’d be buried beneath it all if he weren’t careful.

Charlotte stepped to the side suddenly to lean against the vanity, shielding his view from something she didn’t want him to see. It was clear she was trying and failing to make surreptitious movements behind her back, like shoving something into the pockets of her jeans. Wes walked toward her and jerked her hand forward, and they both froze as a baggie of a white powdered substance fell to the carpet.

He picked it up and stared down at it in the palm of his hand. “You brought this
shit
into our house? You brought drugs into our house, Char! What the fuck!” The sound of footsteps sped toward them and Abel was suddenly in the room too. Wes pulled Charlotte to her bed and made her sit. He spoke to Abel but he was scowling hard at Charlotte. “Buy her a ticket home.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said after scoffing. “How are you going to make sure I get on the plane?”

“I’ll waste the money and buy a ticket, too; I’ll walk your silly ass right up to the gate.” Wes looked to Abel. “Call Aunt Vicky.”

Charlotte smirked and laughed bitterly. “Oh, right…call my parents. They seem to always be the ones who have to handle your
fucked up
family’s problems.”

Wes was seething but he spoke calmly. This was still his little cousin, Charlotte, and she wasn’t herself right now. “I do a lot of dumb shit, but you’re way dumber than I am, so I’m going to let that slide, especially because I love you. Plus, I’ve had one hell of a week. You’re not gonna add to it more than you already are.”

“I knew I should’ve just stayed in Orange County,” Charlotte said. “They’re fun over there…and really nice. You just seem to be the only person Brody isn’t nice to.” Charlotte stood up, a spiteful smile settling on her lips. “He’s
really
nice to Lana. All the things he does to her…I mean,
for her.
Oops.
Really
nice—”

“He’s having a bad week and you say shit like that, anyway?” Abel shouted. “Yeah? You like it over there so much? Then get the fuck out of our house.” 

*

Even with just under fifty people inside the pre-party at Shore Club, the new beachfront lifestyle entertainment center in San Clemente, it was out of control. And the exclusivity was meant to intensify the excitement of the crowd waiting outside for the official unveiling to the public. Wes, the other members of the Reaper Crew, and many other surfers from around the world were there for the nighttime opening ceremony for the venue, which included restaurants, bars, a nightclub, pools, a stage for musical acts, and two wave machines (that Wes was theoretically excited for) simulating surfing in the ocean. The surfers in attendance were going to be the first to try it out before they let the crowd experience it.

Ironically, even though he and Abel had been throwing parties the past two weeks, Wes wasn’t really feeling sociable. He was still miserable without Lana, and a constantly festive home was helping to dull the pain. Abel was probably sick of it, but he was indulging Wes, much like Wes had when Abel was initially heartbroken over Jamie. Maybe sometimes
the twin thing
was great.

Sloane pulled Wes against her as they moved on the small dance floor, concern pressing into her features as she watched him down a can of Lava Energy. “How many of those have you had in the last hour?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sleeping very well. So I’m pretty dead during the day. It helps. No lecture.”

“Fine. Any word on Charlotte?”

“No, once I calmed Abel down that day, we told her she could stay until her parents got there, but she left anyway. My aunt called later and said Charlotte had denied everything we had told her. Apparently, she said she’s staying at her apartment, but she’s not. At least they are still making plans to come out. I just want to know for sure where she is when they arrive.”

“…And Lana?”

Wes shrugged. “What about her? It’s over.” He did his best to keep the sadness burrowed within his core from reaching the surface, but it was wearing on him much more than he was letting anyone know. “But I’m not trying to get with you though, Sloane—”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it, Deuce…?” she said, but she smiled kindly; though, her expression quickly dimmed. “She and Brody—”

“You heard they were back together?” he interrupted.

“No, but they’re talking right now… Well, he’s trying to talk to her and she’s ignoring him.”

“Good for them,” Wes said, cringing internally.

“Then why do you look like you just walked in on someone shaving your cat?”

“‘Cause you’re dancing like an old lady. Shake something, girl!” Wes spun her around and pressed her back to his bare chest, guiding her hips to the music. He clenched his teeth and shook his head.
If one more person asks me about her…
Mentioning Lana was too much of a buzz kill, too much of a kick to the chest for him. It was bad enough so many of her things were still at his place, and he couldn’t seem to wash her scent off his sheets.

“Deuce!” Christian yelled to him from a cabana on the other side of the pool when the music died down. “They need us, man!”

“Reaper! Reaper! Reaper!” The outside crowd’s chants shifted to cheers when the spotlight shined on Wes, Abel, Brody and Christian as they walked on the stage, and a large screen filled with their images. Once the gates of the venue opened, Wes was engulfed in screaming fans as he stepped down, and he plastered a passable smile on his face when the cameras flashed. The music kicked up again and the place went completely dark. Suddenly, a bright light shined down on the wave pool, and Wes took the chance to search the crowd for Lana now that some of the faces where visible again; He hadn’t seen her since that shitty ass day in the parking lot. And as angry as he was, all he wanted to do was hold her, bury his face in her hair and tell her he loved her.

The wave machine blasted to life with a rush of water, and the crowd exploded into enthusiastic hollers when the announcer gave word that the surfers were preparing to take it for a ride. When the Reaper Crew went into the private clubhouse to change into their surfing attire, Wes approached Brody, hesitant, humiliated, desperate and needing to ask him about Charlotte and where she was. As much as he wanted to beat the shit out of Brody for Lana and for the drugs he’d found on Charlotte, there would only be undesirable consequences. Like never finding out what he knew about his cousin’s whereabouts.

“Swift, I need to talk to you. I want to know if you’ve seen my cousin, Char. She’s blonde, petite, looks exactly like me and Abel. She’s been to your house and she was at the Surf for Life party with you and…Lana.” Wes swiped through the pictures on his phone for one of Charlotte; it was one they had taken when she first arrived. Man, how things had changed since then.

Brody looked at it in earnest. “Nope. When Lana and I are together, it’s usually just us, Deuce.
Juuuust
us.”

Fist. Face. Repeat.
So easy.
But Wes only sighed. “Good to know.”

Brody’s maniacal smile stretched as he gazed longer at the image. “But…”

“But…”

“Now that I think about it, she
does
look like someone I might have put my dick in once or twice—”

Rage slicing through him, Wes shoved him hard against the lockers and raised his fist, drawing the attention of the other surfers, but he dropped his hand just as quickly. He pushed Brody out of the way and walked outside to join Abel at the wave machine.

“Uh oh…” Abel said, flicking his eyes up to the crowd and tapping Wes on the shoulder.
Lana
. Of course she was beautiful as she smiled and chatted with Grayson, their arms linked.

But Wes clenched his teeth.
She’s not even fucking upset.
“It’s all good, dude…” Wes assured him, though, without the slightest of confidence. He feared his brother would spot it in his eyes, so he turned his focus to the surging water in front of them. “Abel, dude, you can’t go out there. This thing is a legit barrel. You’ve been taking it easy. Haven’t you?”

“What the fuck,
mom
? Plus, you haven’t seen me surf in a while, and I know it’ll put a smile on your face...since you’ll be witnessing real talent. And remember
smiling
? You used to do that.”

Wes bared his teeth to mimic a smile. “Fuck you, Mr.
Real Talent
.”

Abel grabbed one of the mini surfboards and headed into the manmade, forty-mile-per-hour, ten-foot barrel at the call of his name by an announcer. A frenzy pulsed through the crowd as everyone marveled at Abel’s aerial twists and flips, and Wes tried to watch, but Lana had completely captured his attention. Where had she been? Was she with Brody the entire time? Why hadn’t she answered his calls? Lana’s eyes passed over the horde and found him, they took each other in for a moment, but he broke away after he waved at Grayson.

“Deuce!” Abel called as he jogged out of the churning water and signaled for him to join. “Elliott magic, baby!” Wes grabbed a board and went out to chants of his nickname. He and Abel coordinated their moves, doing aerials over each other’s heads, performing the same stunts simultaneously, and mimicking each other’s tricks, much to the crowd’s delight. The exhilaration was certainly a mood enhancer, and Wes was soon shedding his bad feeling.

He hopped out to get another board, went back into the wave with it, performed the
Wes Reverse Roll
and maneuvered so that he switched boards while in the middle of an aerial and touched down clutching the original board. The pandemonium pressed past its previous peak when he landed the trick, and he swiveled around, beaming beneath cheers. But his mood careened back to irritable when his gaze fell on Lana and Brody talking right in the front of the crowd. He doubted they were really together, but it still hurt like hell to see them; it still felt like a betrayal every time. Maybe she was right, and maybe this was an issue wedged too deep for him. Still, as uncomfortable as it was watching them, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Oh shit! Deuce! Move!” Abel screamed in terror, but Wes didn’t have time to react, and Abel toppled down onto him and they were pulled into the swirl of water together. Alarm spread through the crowd, and the wave machine rumbled to a stop as an anxious murmur of voices rose.

“Always the showstopper!” Abel shouted out with amusement, and everyone’s mood quickly swung back to its jovial tone as Wes got to his feet, but Abel was gripping his shoulder, the (formerly) healing rotator cuff one, as he moved to his haunches from his crumpled position on the floor of the contraption.

Way to go, Wesley.
“Abel? Fuck…I’m so sorry…” Wes said, immediately swamped with intense guilt. “Are you all right, dude? Fuck…”

“Yes...” But Abel winced as Wes and Christian helped him up. “You totally broke my fall, bro. Thanks.” Abel clenched his teeth and continued gripping his upper arm.

“Fuck! We should get you to the ER or something. Sorry, bro, I shouldn’t have been standing there…”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Abel joked. “I’m really okay…” But he trailed off as Brody approached just as Lana worked her way to the barrier separating the crowd from the wave machine.

“Brody, stop!” she yelled.

“You know, I can’t tell which Elliott I enjoy seeing on their knees more: you…or that cute little cousin of yours…”

“This is exactly why I finally told the Olins to be done with you,” Lana screamed.

“Charlotte? You know where she is?” Abel asked. “Is she in Orange County?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,” Brody said. “You should know by now, fucking with you is pretty much my favorite pastime.”

“You are such a douchebag,” Christian said.

“It’s only by the length of a hair, but I like my money and freedom more than I’d probably like punching you until your nose was on the other side of your skull, so I’m gonna walk away now…” Wes said, as he and Christian led Abel off the wave machine.

“Wait. Charlotte’s missing?” Lana asked. Wes walked by her without saying anything or even looking in her direction. “Wes! Wes!”

If I hadn’t been so fucking distracted…

Handle your shit,
his brother had told him in Teahupo’o.

Time to handle your shit, Wesley.

*

Hey.

The single text from her came in the middle of another mostly sleepless night in the living room, and he ignored it. He loved her, he still loved her just as strongly, but it was combined with so much pain, too entwined to separate, both feeding off each other’s strength. So, he let the text simmer then fester in the back of his mind for three days without responding as he focused on surfing and a few local Lava-related work obligations, still downing more Lava to get through the days, as the nights seemingly became more sleepless than before she had sent the text.