TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (12 page)

“Fine,” Rebel says, nodding, “but go back to school.
 
Move on.
 
You don’t want to work for me the rest of your life.”

Mick just drops his head down low.

Seconds tick by.
 
Maybe a whole minute does before Colin clears his throat and starts talking again. “Listen, man … I’m sorry about giving you sh … crap.” He leans forward in his seat, looking directly at Mick.
 
“You’re just such a sanctimonious prick sometimes, it’s hard for me to just not bust your ass once in a while. I care about you, dude.
 
Brothers for life.”
 
He holds out a fist.

Mick reaches over and hits it with his own, but doesn’t look at his brother while he does it.

“What about you?” I ask Colin, trying to keep my voice even.
 
“Why do you demand so much of Mick but not of yourself?
 
Don’t you think that’s hard for your family to deal with?”

Colin’s mouth drops open and he stares at me.
 
My heart spasms a little as a wave of guilt comes over me.
 
I feel like I’ve been a traitor to him for some reason.

“
Boom
, goes the honesty,” says Teagan.
 
“Excellent question. Take him down to the mat.”

“Ka-chow,” Quin says, her voice soft.
 
“Do
not
piss off the pregnant lady, people.”

“Answer the question, man,” says Mick, bringing up his head and settling back into his seat.
 
“I had to.”

A mutinous expression takes over Colin’s face.
 
“Fine. Whatever.
 
So I like to fight.
 
Who cares?
 
Ain’t nobody’s business but my own.”

“No fair taking the easy way out,” says Quin.
 
“You have to share your feeeeeelings.”
 
She’s grinning way too hard.
 
She’s totally enjoying getting under his skin.

I kind of feel the same way.
 
It’s strange but also exhilarating to see such a strong rebellious guy forced to reckon with his emotions, especially when he spends probably eighty percent of his day pretending like he doesn’t even have any.

“Nah. That’s all I got to say.”
 
He leans back, his body language showing a carelessness and complete lack of regard for what we think.
 
Too bad his face keeps twitching and giving him away.
 
This means a lot to him; maybe more than anything else he has going on.
 
Interesting.

“You asked me what I would change about my brothers,” Rebel says.
 
He looks at Colin.
 
“If I could change one thing about Colin, I would bring him peace.
 
He just needs some peace in his life.”

I feel like I can’t breathe.
 
I both ache for him and for me.
 
The irrational thought flits across my mind that a pregnant girl or a new baby is the last thing a guy needing peace would want in his life.
 
It’s the most ridiculous thing on every level.
 
Why do I keep inserting myself into his world like that?
 
What is wrong with me? Don’t I have enough pain in my life as it is?

“Man … I have peace.”
 
Colin rests his head on the chair back behind him and looks at the ceiling.
 
“I’m all about the zen.”
 
His arms rise up slowly and come to prayer position in front of his face.

“
Shhh.
 
Right,” says Mick. “You’re all about the fighting and hell raising. You’re pure trouble, or have you forgotten?”

Colin doesn’t even lift his head to respond to his brother.
 
His arms drop onto the sides of the chair.
 
“Fuck off, Hellion.
 
You’re no angel yourself and you know it.”

“Insulting each other is not helping here,” I say, taking up the mantle of therapist to help ease myself past my own hurt feelings.
 
“Why do you think he doesn’t have peace in his life?” I ask Rebel.

Rebel looks at Mick first and they exchange some kind of silent message.
 
Mick nods and then Rebel looks at Colin.
 
When he begins to speak, the entire room goes dead silent.
 
Even the birds outside seem to stop chirping as they listen for the words Rebel shares so sparingly.

“Colin’s got a big heart.
 
Too big sometimes.
 
He loved our mom with everything he had.
 
He loved our sister like she was a part of him.
 
She got hurt real bad and he wasn’t there.
 
He takes that on himself, even though he shouldn’t.
 
When they died, he decided for some reason he had to do penance for the rest of his life over it.
 
I wish that he’d let that go and move on with his life.
 
Stop taking everything on his shoulders and let something else in for a change.
 
Something … lighter.”

Colin swallows over and over.
 
And then he jerks himself upright and stands.
 
“Man, this is bullshit.
 
Bullshit!” he yells.
 
“I’m outta here. Have fun with your therapy session, assholes.”
 
And then he storms out of the room.

No one says anything for a few seconds until Quin breaks the silence.

“Holy furry bat balls,
that
went well.”
 
She grins at me. “Good job, Alissa.
 
You’re awesome at this, you know?
 
You should change your major to psychology.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

MOVING DAY IS FINALLY HERE.
 
Colin has made himself scarce over the past few days, and he’s definitely not talking to me.
 
I thought before that my life was lonely and boring, but now it’s even more so.
 
I hadn’t realized before how a simple conversation with him would brighten up my day so much.
 
I am such a mess.

I’ve packed all my things into a single trash bag and it’s not even half-full.
 
When I left my parents’ house I hadn’t taken anything but my makeup and toothbrush.
 
With the few maternity outfits I got at a thrift store, I can’t even fill one drawer.
 
I guess that’s a good thing since I don’t even own a chest of drawers.

The rental place is in a much better part of town than the Rebel Wheels shop.
 
I breathe a sigh of relief as we pull into the driveway.
 
The house is white, has two floors, and a pointed roof; it looks like it belongs in the northeast somewhere, not Los Angeles.
 
I love it immediately.
 
I can picture myself in my own room again, the one right there in the front of the house looking out over the lawn and the street.
 
I’ll be able to see people coming way before they get to the door.

“Alissa? Hello, Earth to Alissa.”
 
Quin is staring at me through the back window of the car.
 
She’s standing out on the driveway.
 
“You gonna help us get this crap unloaded or what?”

“Oh, yeah.
 
Sorry.”
 
I struggle to get out of the back seat.
 
Seems like it’s always difficult to get up from a seated position or pretty much do anything these days.
 
Everything on my body is swollen, and I break into a sweat just thinking about moving a single muscle.
 
On top of all that, the baby has decided she’s going to be a gymnast when she grows up.
 
She’s super good at the triple flips.
 
She practices all day long and even during the night too.

“Here, take your bag and this box of dishes and you’re done,” Quin says, handing me the two items I could easily carry with one arm.

“I have to do more than that.”
 
Out of the corner of my eye I see Rebel and Mick carrying in a sofa.
 
Their muscles are bulging and I silently thank Mother Nature for making it hot out today.
 
They’re both shirtless against the heat.
 
I might be pregnant, but I’m not ready for the nunnery yet, apparently.

“Nope, this is all you’re allowed to do.
 
No one wants amniotic fluid on the new floors.
 
Just go up to your room and decide where you want everything to go.”

I snort.
 
“That’ll take me all of three seconds.
 
I only have one bag.”

“That’s what you think,” she says, winking at me.

Quin has been way calmer around me since our big therapy session.
 
Everyone has been.
 
I guess it was a good idea that we did it; except for the fact that Colin probably feels more alienated now than he ever did before.
 
I have huge regrets over that. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.

I mount the stairs with heavy feet as I remember his angry words and lonely departure.
 
He didn’t deserve to feel that way.
 
He’s a good person, and all he’s ever done is try to help me.
 
I should have been more loyal to him, maybe.

When I reach the room I know to be mine from the description that Teagan gave me, I push open the door.
 
I’m too stunned by what’s inside to move any farther.

The room is painted a pale pink with white crown moulding.
 
There’s a double bed, a big dresser, and a tiny white dresser with a matching crib in a small alcove in the corner.

I rest my palm on the door jamb as the bag of my clothes falls out of my hand and hits the floor.

“Like it?” Quin asks, coming up the stairs behind me.
 
She stops near my back.
 
“Pretty sweet, eh?”

“Who … ? How …?”

“We all chipped in.
 
I didn’t have any dough to contribute so I just painted.
 
I kick ass at staying in the lines, believe it or not.”

I shake my head slowly, trying to take it all in.
 
“I don’t believe it.” It’s surreal.
 
Their generosity is making me lose my mind.
 
I’ve been nothing but annoying to them, and yet all they do is forgive me and then give me more.
 
Who
are
these people?

“No, it’s true. I know, I’m not generally a stay-in-the-lines kind of girl, but when it comes to painting, I have a knack for it.
 
That’s my OCD rearing it’s ugly head, I guess.”
 
She points under my arm to the dresser.
 
“You could put a diaper-changing pad on that if you want.
 
Or just use the bed. We used the bed for Jersey ’til he took a massive shit in it one day.
 
Holy stinky radioactive green goo alert.
 
After that we got a diaper changing pad. They have plastic covers so they’re way easier to clean.”
 
She’s still chuckling as she moves down the hall.

I finally step into the room, almost thinking the whole decor and furniture thing will fade away into nothingness as my hallucination disintegrates.

But no, it’s still there even when I’m all the way inside.
 
I reach out and touch the nearest wall.
 
The pink.
 
The baby furniture.
 
It’s all real.
 
My eyes fill with tears.

I wander over and sit down on the edge of the bed, letting the sadness come.
 
It wasn’t supposed to be near-strangers being kind to me.
 
It was supposed to be the boy I loved.
 
The boy I trusted.
 
The golden boy who was going to be the center of my universe for the rest of my life.

Teagan finds me in the room a couple minutes later and sits down next to me. “Do you hate pink? I’m not a fan of it either, but we figured with the baby…”

I shake my head and wave her concerns away with a few flicks of my hand.
 
“No, no, it’s not that. I love pink.”

Quin appears in the entrance of the room.
 
“She freakin’?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure what about.”

I shake my head, afraid I won’t be able to speak properly.
 
But I have to try because they deserve some sort of explanation.
 
“It’s just … overwhelming.
 
I thought … I thought …”

“You thought what?
 
That we’d blow you off?” Teagan supplies.

“No.”
 
I shake my head vigorously.
 
“I know you guys wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what?
 
What’s so upsetting that you’d sit in this glorious pink room and cry?
 
Hell, it’s like a fairy queen ate too much cotton candy and then vomited all over the place.
 
What could be prettier, I’d like to know.”
 
Quin comes in and sits on the other side of me, putting her arm around me.

I can’t help it.
 
I rest my head on her shoulder.
 
“I just thought it would be someone else doing it for me, that’s all.”

“Your boyfriend?” Teagan answers.

I laugh.
 
It’s not a pretty sound.
 
Picturing Charlie being kind like this makes me feel like I just swallowed a mason jar of acid.
 
“Yeah, right.
 
God.
 
No.
 
Don’t even say that.”

Quin pats me on the head awkwardly as my tears drip all over her shirt.
 
“Sounds like a real piece of shit, that guy.”