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Authors: Vera Calloway

The Bad Boy's Dance (14 page)

BOOK: The Bad Boy's Dance
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              “Are you screwing him?” his voice was quiet. He was always angriest when he was quiet.

              “No! How can you ask me that? I would never do that to you, baby, please!” Why wouldn’t he believe me? I’d proven to him how much I loved him time and time again, but he insisted that I would someday leave him, that I didn’t love him at all- or not as much as he loved me.

              “I’m just friends with Kyle. You know he’s a flirt. He’s like that with everyone.” I inched towards him, my hands held up in surrender. He was standing stock-still, eyes vacant and hands hanging loosely at his sides. I’d give anything to be able to read his mind, understand why he reacted the way he did to the most insignificant things.

              I laid my hand on his chest-and he snapped. His cool façade was replaced with blind rage, and the next thing I knew, his hands had balled in my hair and he was crushing me to him for a bruising, rough kiss.

              Struggling, I shoved away from him. “No, don’t touch me when you’re angry,” I panted, wiping at my mouth and terrified to find a trail of blood seeping from my lip.

              “Would you rather it was him? Kyle? Do you wish he was the one touching you?” his voice broke, and he slid to the ground. Approaching slowly, I kneeled besides him, resting my head tentatively on his shoulder.

              “Only you. It’s only you.”

 

             
My knees crumpled, and Asher’s grip was holding me up now. “Ivy?” Alarm colored his tone as tears flooded my cheeks.

              “Let go. Please,” I whispered.

              He released me instantly. I swayed for a minute, but righted myself. Swiping at my face, I hurried past Asher, ignoring his perplexed and remorseful expression.

              Henrietta’s cheerful smile wavered when I descended. Asher insisted that we didn’t have time for breakfast, so she’d made us paper bags with sandwiches in them. “Are you alright sweetie?” she inquired concernedly.

              Forcing a smile on my face, I waved off her worry. “Great! Thank you so much for your hospitality. It probably saved our lives. How can we ever repay you?”

              She patted my arm affectionately. “Nonsense. It’s every citizens duty to lend a helping hand when it’s needed.”

              Bidding the kind old woman goodbye, I accepted the paper bags and headed to the rusty red Chevy parked in the front. Gerard was sitting behind the wheel, adjusting his faded uniform. Climbing into the back seat, I pretended I didn’t notice him staring at my red eyes from the rearview mirror.

              A few minutes later, Asher slid in the front seat. Henrietta waved at us from the front as we drove away. The car trip was silent. I tried to absorb myself in the scenery, but my mind kept rewinding to that scene in the hall. It wasn’t Asher’s fault that I had so many emotional triggers. So many things that sent me hurtling back to the darkest phase of my life.

              When Gerard parked in front of a little gas station with a row of phone booths, I was ready to leave. “Thank you so much for everything. Send my regards to Henrietta,” I thanked Gerard and hopped to the ground. Asher was preparing to follow me, when Gerard grabbed his arm. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Gerard talked? Next you’ll be telling me mollusks ran the FBI.

              I was curious to know what Gerard had said, but Asher brushed it off when I asked him. “It’s not important.”

              Harumphing, I followed him to the phone booth. That’s when Asher stared at the phone, complete frustration on his face.

              “What’s wrong?”

              He ran a hand through his hand and sighed. “I don’t know who to call. My friends won’t be up at this hour, the fluffs at school aren’t smart enough to get here without getting lost themselves, and I don’t even know where we are anyway.”

              Did he refer to the Plastics as ‘fluffs’? If they weren’t his friend’s, who were? An image of tattooed, hulking men invaded my mind, and I shoved it aside. I wouldn’t be asking him to introduce me any time soon.

              When it was clear he was out of options, I knew it was up to me. “Dang it,” I muttered sullenly, picking up the phone. Inserting 75 cents and punching in a number I knew by heart, I listened to the phone ring with trepidation.

              “Hello?”

              “I need a favor.”

 

 

              Approximately two hours later, during which I drew cartoons with the dust on the windows and Asher did some deep brooding, a Toyota skidded to a stop in front of us, kicking up dirt everywhere.

              They really should vacuum more. Then again, they were in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t clean either.

              The car honked, and I motioned for Asher to follow me. “Sit in the back. Trust me, you’re lucky it isn’t my other brother picking us up,” I murmured to him, hopping into the front seat.

              I knew Asher was completely mystified at the morning’s events and that it was bugging him to no end, but now wasn’t the time. We had a different crisis to handle.

              Spencer took in my appearance. Disheveled hair, slept in clothes, and dark circles of exhaustion under my eyes.

              Then he twisted in his seat, leveling Asher with a glare so cold I’m surprised it didn’t cure the polar ice caps problem right there.

              “I swear to God if you’ve laid one hand on her, I’m ripping your dick off.”

              To say I turned every shade of red known to a Crayola box was an understatement. Asher only allowed himself a second of surprise before masking his expression with cool disdain.

              “Yours not doing the job right?” he leered.

The testosterone level was choking me. Then, as if it couldn’t get worse, Asher had to go and ask, “Why the hell would you think I touched her? We’ve been walking through the woods for a day, dumbass. She’s not gonna look like America’s Next Top Model.”

              I lunged across the seat in time to keep Spencer from crawling over the console to Asher. My brother was in good shape and everything, but Asher would wipe the floor with him. It was Paul he’d have a challenge with, and this would be so much worse if it was Paul here.

              “Don’t call him a dumbass,” I scolded Asher, and he scowled at me like a sullen child.

              “And you,” I shook Spencer’s shoulder to break him from the stare-down he was having with Asher. Good thing Asher hadn’t whipped out that handy little pistol, because then the poo poo would really hit the roof. “Stop being so mean to him. He didn’t do anything to me.” Well, not on purpose, anyway. “He’s my dance partner. Now take us home!”

              Spencer seethed throughout the ride home while Asher drummed his fingers on the glass every so often, just to annoy my brother. I had half a mind to slap both of them with a trout, but there were no fish markets nearby to accommodate me, unfortunately.

              Things didn’t get better when Spencer pulled up to Asher’s mansion, of course. Asher was now definitely on Spencer’s radar.

              Asher got out of the car quickly and leaned in through my window. “Walk me to my door,” he said, snatching his finger away when Spencer tried to roll the window over it.

              Ignoring Spencer’s warning glare, I exited the car and walked Asher to his door, still taking a few minutes to ogle the amazing landscape. I’d give up my first born babies for this place.

              “Would you now?” Asher commented with a chuckle. Whoops! I hadn’t meant to let that slip.

              “What are you going to do about your car?” I asked instead.

              He shrugged, totally nonchalant with leaving an Aston Martin in the middle of the woods. “I’ll call someone to pick it up.”

              Suddenly, he took a step closer to me, tugging me in the shadow of the awning, away from my brother’s sight.

              “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened this morning, but I’m sorry. Does it have to do with why your brother apparently hates me based on the fact that I’m within ten feet of you? Usually I go out with the girl before they try to gut me,” he joked, undisturbed by the gory visual.

              I rolled my eyes. “Get over yourself, Grayson.”

              I could tell from his shrewd gaze that he had picked up on the fact that I’d completely bypassed his apology on this morning. I didn’t want to acknowledge it, and after a second, he let it go.

              “We still have three more movies to go. Think Knut will give us an extension?”

              Spencer honked, long and loud. Overprotective turd.

              “Who knows, the woman’s nuts. Get it? Knut?” Wow, I needed to be shot. That joke should’ve warranted a lightning bolt at my head.              

              Asher rolled his eyes and unlocked his door. I heard a clattering noise from the inside, and Asher’s face hardened.

             
Time to retreat!

             
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow!” I called, walking backwards towards Spencer’s car, praying I didn’t trip and land on my butt, thus making even more of a fool of myself.

              Asher disappeared behind his door at the same time I hopped into the passenger’s seat.

              “Your dance partner is Asher Grayson?!” Spencer hollered the minute my seatbelt clicked.

              His phone was open on his lap. Ah, modern technology.

              “You can’t tell Mom and Dad! Or Paul!” I shrilled. “Asher’s not a bad guy.”

              Well, that depended on your definition of ‘bad’. He didn’t seem like he was cruel or sadistic, but those late night meetings, car chases, and guns didn’t slot him as normal, either. And that’s not counting the other offenses I wasn’t there for.

              “Are you crazy?” Spencer was trying to glare at me and watch the road at the same time. “He’s been in juvie! The guy’s a freaking delinquent.”

              “Don’t be so judgmental, Spence. You don’t even know him,” I snapped, coming to Asher’s defense for a second time. It was bothering me that everyone had him pegged as a flashing neon danger sign. I’d been that way too, and I felt guilty for the way I treated him based on his reputation.

              Then again, he’d been about as receptive as the love child of a porcupine and cactus.

              “I know enough to know that he’s dangerous. And that mansion! What did he buy that with, Spanish gold?”

              Groaning, I opted to ignore my annoying brother for the rest of the ride. A light bulb went off in my head, and a Dana- worthy Cheshire cat smile spread over my cheeks. “If you spill the beans about Asher, I’m telling Mom how the china cabinet
really
broke,” I threatened.

              “You wouldn’t!”

              “Wouldn’t I?”

              Spencer shook his head with grudging admiration. “You’re the devil, Ivy.”

              Winking at him, I hopped from the car and zoomed up to the house. Spencer had thrown a huge bash a few months ago that resulted in some drunkard smashing into our china cabinet and ruining it. He’d lied to Mom and told her I tripped and fell through the glass, which was believable considering I don’t notice where I’m walking most of the time.

              Opening the front door, I crept inside cautiously. Maybe Mom and Dad weren’t home. Maybe I could get away with-

              “IVY DESIREE ROBELLO!”

              Spoke too soon.

              My piss-head brother drove away after giving me a sympathetic shrug. Yay for sibling solidarity, huh?

              “Where have you been?!” Dad shouted, followed closely by a furious Mom.

              To Dana I leave my laptop and Minnie Mouse teddy bear. To Paul I leave my measly savings and my car. To Caleb I leave-

              “Ivy!”

              Swallowing hard, I shifted from foot to foot, hands knotted together behind me and head bowed, the picture of remorse. “My dance partner and I were watching a movie when this deer ran in front of the car. He swerved to avoid it and we ended up lost in the woods.”

              Glossing over the parts where Asher and I spent the night in the same room and anything that would evoke that bulgy red vein In Dad’s neck, I retold the story. I hated lying about how we’d gotten lost in the first place, but I couldn’t very well tell them the truth.

              My parents were speechless. That was most certainly a first for them. “Um…well…we’ll decide how to punish you properly later?” Dad said uncertainly.

              “Okay! Take your time, no rush.” Beaming at them, I gave each a peck on the cheek and made a beeline for the staircase. I was on my bed in record time, burrowing under the familiar sheets contentedly.

              A putrid odor of dirt, sweat, and BO wafted its way up my nose. Gross! That shower needed to happen, like, yesterday. Ugh, I was surprised Asher didn’t get a nosebleed from the smell.

              I’d missed school, but the attendance office was indifferent. They just wanted a parent to call, and then I was done. After showering, I sunk into the cocoon of my comforter and slipped into sleep.

             
Asher’s hands were on my hips, walking us backwards until I was pressed against a wall. Hefting me up, he wrapped my legs around his waist, and then suddenly, we were in his mansion.

BOOK: The Bad Boy's Dance
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