The Bad Boys of Summer (7 page)

H
ow the hell
did this keep happening to me? Seven years ago, I could understand it. I’d been naïve. A virgin. A girl who’d concocted a whole
Romeo & Juliet
scenario around a boy she was forbidden to love. Seven years ago, I hadn’t known any better.

But now, today? That was a much different story. I’d known, in my heart of hearts, who Slade Jarvis was.
What
he was. But I’d let my guard down anyway, all because I’d wanted to believe. Believe that he’d changed, or that what happened back then was a misunderstanding. Believe that he hadn’t just used and abused me, and that all the things we’d done—the things that
I
had done—had meant something more than a way for Slade to get his rocks off. I thought I had seen something in his eyes. Heard something in his voice when he was drunk and felt like he was being accused of raping me.

I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. And so fucking stupid, too. He was probably just worried about getting in trouble.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

It had seemed so enticing at the time, though—especially after I’d spent so much time feeling lonely after he’d gone, how I’d envisioned him spending the night with some bar slut just before he came home. He’d looked so sexy with that cut on his lip, so rugged. And I was worried about my brother. I needed the comfort. And then he seemed so vulnerable. That should have been my first clue. Slade Jarvis, vulnerable? Right. But that’s what I wanted to see.

Which Slade probably knew. He always knew. He was like a bloodhound that way, searching for vulnerable, unsuspecting girls to put his dick into. He’s a master at figuring out the exact right thing to do or say that will entice a girl into spreading her legs.

Dear God, I was my stepbrother’s fuck-toy, his personal, living, breathing Real Doll. I’d invited trouble into my bed because… why? Because I haven’t been fucked in a year? Because Slade knew just what to do to turn me on? How the hell had I let that blind me? Now he was gone—he’d gotten his and left me all alone to deal with the consequences.

Again.

It could’ve been worse,
I reminded myself as I chucked a TV dinner into the microwave and set it for three minutes.
At least this time, your family doesn’t know what a stupid whore you are.

That was something, I guessed, but it wasn’t exactly making me feel better about myself, and especially not when I heard my phone ring and realized my stepfather was calling me.

For a moment, irrational terror gripped me.
Shit. How did he know?

He couldn’t have. Could he? It wasn’t like Slade would just run off and tell him. Then again, Slade had said some pretty shitty things not too long ago. What if this was round two of him fucking with me, ruining my life, my reputation amongst our family?

Thankfully, I was just being paranoid, because when I picked up, he cut me off with news before I could even say “hello.”

“Kellan called.”

I blinked, hard, and my heart fluttered with hope. Shakily sitting down at my kitchen table, I whispered, “Really? He did? Oh, Dad, that’s such great news—”

“Not really,” he gruffed and immediately that sinking feeling washed over me again.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Iris. Well, as ‘fine’ as a drug addict can be, I suppose.” Dad sighed. I could envision him running his hand through his thinning hair, graying at the temples after all he’d been through with the three of us. First me and Slade, fucking like rabbits who also happened to be related to each other, and then Kellan, running off with his junkie friends to God knows where to do God knows what. I felt so guilty sometimes—at least two thirds of his problems had to do with my side of the family.

“He didn’t say much about how he was doing, honestly,” Dad continued. “You know him—he wouldn’t give anything away. Not until he wants to be found. Instead, he called to warn me, and he wanted me to pass the message on to you. He wanted you to know that your stepbrother was in town.”

I bit my lip. What was I supposed to say to that? I guessed that depended on what Kellan had told him, which of course, I had no way of knowing. Fuck. I hated lying. I hated playing games centered around who knew what. I’d had my fill of that shit over the past seven years. I put my face in my hand and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“He is?” was all I could think of to say.

“Apparently,” my stepfather answered, “Kellan saw him the other day, and the two of them got into it. I wanted to be sure you knew. After what he did to you, and in our house, no less, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came calling. My son, unfortunately, knows no shame. Kellan wanted me to warn you, wanted to make sure you locked your doors and kept safe.” He paused, as though he didn’t even want to consider the possibility, then asked, “You didn’t tell Slade to come here, did you? After the argument we had about it the other day…”

“Why would you think that?” I said quickly, but nearly choked on the words. My mouth was dry. I stood up and fumbled in my cabinets for a glass. “I mean, I don’t even know his number…”

“Of course. You wouldn’t do that,” my stepfather murmured as I filled it up from the tap. “You’re a victim in all this. You wouldn’t put yourself at risk, after what that bastard did to you.”

“Dad…” I took a sip of water before starting again. “We’ve been over this, haven’t we? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but what happened back then in that pool house was…”

“Monstrous,” my stepfather interjected. “I knew my son had his issues, Iris, but I swear, I never imagined he’d take advantage of you.”

But he did,
I added inwardly.
Twice, now.
Maybe my stepfather was right. Maybe Slade was some kind of monster.

No, that wasn’t fair. And it reminded me of what Kellan had said to Slade right before he’d punched him in the mouth.

“Is that why Kellan called you, Dad?” I asked him, dreading his response. When he didn’t give me one, I pressed him. “I mean, why else would he be warning you Slade was here? Why else would he want you to make sure I knew?”

“Kellan knows the truth,” he finally replied. “He knows that bastard forced himself on you.”

I felt all the blood drain from my face. Slade was telling the truth about that part, at least.
Forced
himself on me? “Dad, that’s not even…” But I knew it was no use arguing that point. He’d never believe his sweet, innocent stepdaughter had asked for it—literally begged for his son’s cock. Instead, I asked, “Why would you tell Kellan that? Why, when you worked so hard to keep it a secret? When neither of us ever wanted him to know?”

“He was asking questions, Iris,” my stepfather said, his voice sounded wearier by the minute. “He was angry with me for kicking Slade out, and he never stopped blaming me. By the time he was sixteen, Kellan had gotten it into his head that I hated him, and that the only reason I’d sent Slade away was to make him miserable. He said I was jealous of Slade, of their relationship. That Slade was smarter than I was, and I felt weak in comparison. I took his outbursts for a while, shielded your mother from them, but finally, I had to tell him the truth. He needed to know that the man he looked up to was a selfish bastard who nearly tore our family apart on a sadistic whim. He needed to get over his… fixation with your stepbrother.”

So that’s why Kellan ran away this time. And that’s why he hadn’t been back. Because my stepfather had lost his temper. My hands were shaking.
What the hell?

“It wasn’t just Slade, though, Dad,” I said softly, shaking my head. “I was just as much to blame for what happened as he was. Okay, maybe I didn’t know what he was planning that day, but I didn’t exactly tell him no. It was my choice.”
And my biggest mistake.

My stepfather snorted derisively. “You may think that, Iris, but I know what an effect an older boy can have on a young girl. I know how manipulative they are. You didn’t choose him, honey. He just gave you the illusion of a choice. I hate to hear you blame yourself.”

As usual, my stepfather refused to accept the truth. I shook my head again. “This is why Kellan ran away, isn’t it? After you told him, that’s when things really got bad.”

My stepfather sighed deeply, like the weight of the world was rushing out of him along with his breath. “I never told you because I was… ashamed of how I’d handled it. I never should have told him, Iris. I did it out of anger, and I’m… I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

But was it? Because the more we talked, the more it seemed like really, it was all mine.

I was the one who’d fallen for Slade’s tricks seven years ago. I was the one who hadn’t been smart enough to see through him. And I was the one who’d gone running back to him, thinking it would help, when all it did was dredge up the most painful memories of Kellan’s whole life, reminding him of the betrayal he’d suffered—how the person he’d looked up to most in all the world had turned out to be some… monster. A
rapist.

I felt sick. My stepfather might’ve been the catalyst for all this, but I was sure as hell the reason everything was going wrong now. Slade Jarvis really was the biggest mistake of my life—and I’d made it twice.

A
irports
, by their very nature, were loud.

It was hard to even think over all the sounds of people talking in the cavernous halls, their echoing voices filling my ears again and again. People of all shapes and sizes rushed by me, hustling to and fro between the ticket counter and the path that led to their chosen terminal. As I stood there I felt an enormous weight on top of me, particularly as I watched the men and women working the ticket counter.

I had spent the previous night at a cheap motel just inside of the city limits of my hometown, and the moment I’d woken up, I was dead set on making a break for it. The wounds from the night before still felt fresh, and I knew deep down that leaving would be the right thing to do.

But then why did I feel so terrible about it?

If this was the right decision, why was I so conflicted about buying that ticket? I knew what would happen if I stayed, if I dared to even imagine a relationship with Iris—there would only ever be pain. I knew in my gut that the right decision for me would be to just stay out of her life. Who knows, maybe Kellan would eventually grow up and head back home after he realized how much of an idiot he’d been. Maybe their genuine hatred of me could bring them back together and turn them into one big, happy family.

But what if it doesn’t
? I asked myself, feeling the weight of the bag in my hand pulling down on me like an anchor.
What if something happens, and I was the cause
?

And then there was the deep sense of responsibility I felt for the havoc I’d caused my friends and family. I wanted to forget, go back to the days where I didn’t care about the feelings of others and could shrug off women like a jacket I’d worn for too long. I wanted that sense of freedom from my own worries. I wanted to feel nothing again.

Especially when it came to Iris Walker.

Iris fucking Walker, the sweet girl I’d used and run out on—twice, now. The girl who everyone assumed I’d raped. I’d done a lot of fucked up shit in my time, sure, but rape? That was never something I’d even considered. My stomach lurched at the thought.

If that was what everyone thought of me, what was the point of trying to change their minds? Obviously, I’d fucked up so bad they thought of me as a violent offender, as a
criminal,
as the kind of animal who’d violate a woman just to get his way.

My heart nearly froze in my chest as I realized that from anyone else’s perspective, that may actually look an awful lot like what I’d done to Iris, and as I dwelled on it, the most painful thought of all came crashing into me:
What would Mom say? What would she think of the way you turned out?

No. I couldn’t handle thoughts like those, just like I couldn’t handle everyone’s eyes on me, judging, condemning. Let them go on thinking Slade’s the big, bad bogeyman hiding under their beds. Fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all. I know what I am. Let them think what they want.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. At first I was annoyed, but then I saw Iris’ name scrawled across my screen. My chest tightened. Could I handle talking to her after what we’d done the night before?

Against my better judgment, I swiped my thumb over the green “answer” icon on my phone and put the speaker to my ear, my eyes closed.

“Iris,” I said, trying to be as curt as possible.

“Where are you?” she asked, though for some reason I couldn’t get a good read on her tone. She didn’t sound angry, at least not at me, and there was something else mixed in to her voice. Something like concern.

“I’m at a bar,” I said, figuring that would be the best excuse for all of the noise going on around me. If she knew I was leaving, then this conversation would go downhill real fast. It was better if she didn’t know. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to you,” she said, a frustrated sigh crackling through the phone. “It’s about Kellan… and Dad.”

“You’re not giving me much of a reason to keep talking,” I grumbled, giving heavy consideration to just hanging up. I hated even
thinking
about my father, let alone actually bringing him up in conversation.

“Be an adult for two minutes, please?” Iris asked, her exasperation with me now in full swing. “Dad called me earlier. Apparently, after you went to see Kellan at that house, he called Dad to warn him that you were back. He told Dad that I needed to be kept safe from you. But he kept calling you my
rapist
.”

“So, everyone thinks I’m a rapist but you, huh?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “What do you want me to do about that? No one here has any interest in anything I have to say.”

“That’s the point of this discussion, Slade,” she snapped, silencing me pretty damn quick. “It was my dad who sent Kellan on this spiral.”

I scrunched my face. “But why? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Because of you, apparently,” Iris said. “Kellan always talked about you, even after you’d left, and even blamed Dad for ‘pushing you away.’ Apparently, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back with him, and he told Kellan everything—but altered more than a few details, like the fact that he thinks you raped me.”

“Just more proof that coming back here was a huge mistake,” I muttered, massaging the bridge of my nose. “I knew staying would only make everything worse off than it already was. I knew I should just leave.”

There was silence over the phone for a moment, broken only by the soft sounds of Iris’s breathing. I knew the moment I’d said it that I’d given too much away, shown my hand when I should have played it close to my chest.

“So, that’s what you’re going to do? Just up and leave like you always do?” Iris let out a snort. “Christ, you’re at the airport, aren’t you, getting ready to cut and run—
again?”

Doesn’t she get it
? I thought, holding my head in my free hand.
All of this would be so much better if I wasn’t there
.

“This is what’s best for everyone, Iris,” I said. “With me gone, everyone can get back to their lives again, and Kellan and Dad can get back to hating me -
together
.”

“It’s better for
you,
maybe,” she shot back. “But then again, it’s always been about what’s best for Slade. After all, you never really considered how everyone would
really
feel after you were gone. You’re so concerned with your own needs that you always put them first, justifying that everything you do is for the best for everyone else. Just like when you left me seven years ago.”

My stomach clenched. I had hoped to God she would avoid it, just like I had all this time, that it was too painful for her to even speak of. My heart started to race as I tried to think of a way to get out of this, some way to avoid what I’d been trying to hide from for the better part of a decade.

“You need to face up to your problems,” Iris said, frustration laden in her voice. “You’ve got to stop running from—”

I smashed my thumb against the red “end call” button, cutting her off from finishing her undoubtedly long lecture on my responsibilities. I knew what I had to do the moment I hit that button.

I stepped up to the ticket counter, waiting for the clerk to finish with whatever complicated computer work she was engaged in. I could still hear my pulse in my ears, thumping like a drum to the beat of my own panic attack. This was the only way that this could end, with me going somewhere far, far away.

“Good afternoon, sir. Are you going to be flying with us today?” the young lady asked, finally turning her attention toward me. She was blonde and pretty, exactly the kind of girl I would have fucked in a heartbeat. It even crossed my mind to seduce her right there and convince her to go for a round while I was waiting for my flight. But even as I thought of it, I knew that it wasn’t the least bit appealing to me. Not today.

“Yes,” I said, trying to afford her the faintest hint of a smile. “I just need a one-way ticket.”

“Where to, sir?” the attendant asked, the same bright and cheery smile on her face that had been there when I’d walked up. I almost didn’t understand what she was asking, at first.

“I’m sorry?” I said, frowning as I tried to pry myself out from my thoughts. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I asked, where are you going to be flying today?”

“Home,” I answered, without really thinking about how vague I was being. That was all I wanted, to be home where I was safe. But the more I thought of that word, the less and less it reminded me of where I’d been only a few days before—the hospital, my apartment, all the nurses who hated my guts.

“Are you able to be a little more specific, sir?” the attendant asked, her smile faltering. Clearly I wasn’t making her job any easier. “I can’t really sell you a ticket for ‘home’ unless you tell me where ‘home’ is.”

Where
was
home?

I hadn’t really felt at home since my mother died. To me, home had always meant
with her,
and after she was gone, there was no place left for me to feel like I belonged. The past couple days, though, spending time with Iris—that was the closest I’d come to feeling like I was at home. As silly as that sounded, it was true.

Being with Iris made me feel like I was where I was supposed to be, but I knew that feeling was dangerous. The second I got angry, the second anyone got too close, I’d lash out and hurt someone again. I’d hurt
Iris
again. I’d proven that to myself already, with how I’d treated her this morning.

But what else was there for me? Every time I thought of the word “home,” I saw my stepsister’s pretty face.

As I let the idea stew in my mind, I began to realize that where my job was had never been home—not even when I first left my father’s house. None of the places I had lived had ever really been
home
.

Then it hit me all at once:
this
was home. Even after all this time, this town had never once stopped being my home. Everything that I’d ever really cared about in my life was settled right in this place, and all I’d been doing since that day seven years ago was running, like some scared little kid. I was okay with them thinking I was some kind of monster because it was
easy.
Because I felt like, after what I’d done, I didn’t deserve a home anymore. I didn’t even deserve to be near my mother’s grave. And facing up to what I’d done, seeking redemption for it, had all seemed too big. Too hard. An insurmountable task to accomplish.

Like some little kid, I had been running away from home for the past seven years.

I couldn’t leave. Not again. I couldn’t leave
her.
Not when I had so much to atone for. Not when doing that might finally stop my demons from chasing me around the world.

“I’m really sorry,” I said, snapping out of my torpor. “I actually don’t need to go anywhere today. I’m right where I need to be.”

“All right, sir, if that’s what you’d like,” she said, not at all sharing my enthusiasm over my revelation. “Now, if there’s nothing else that you need here, then I’d appreciate it if you’d let the next person through and exit the line.”

I smiled and turned around, hoisting my bag up onto my shoulder as I made my way back through the crowd of impatient people waiting for their turn at the ticket counter. I almost cursed myself for already returning my rental car, but it would only cost a few moments and a couple of dollars to get myself a new one.

My thoughts were only of Iris, of apologizing for everything I’d done over the last few days—hell, for the last few
years
. I’d spent so much time running from the idea of hurting anyone that I didn’t realize that staying away was hurting her—and me—more than anything else. She’d opened herself up to me again, even though she had no reason to. I sure as hell hadn’t given her one, had I? I’d been an ass right from the start.
Again.

I needed to make up for that now. If this was going to be my home, if I was going to accept that being with her was exactly where I needed to be, I was going to have to put my foot down and start fixing some of the damage I’d caused.

I just hoped I wasn’t too late to save whatever it was that we had.