Wildflower (Colors #4) (29 page)

“Oh my God. You
tattled
on me?” I griped at a chuckling Derrick. “How old are we now?”

“Too old to be barging into parties, raring to rip a bunch of kids new assholes,” Noah shot back from his place just outside the house Ethan was in, arms crossed over his chest, looking all aggressive and sexy.

“Then
you
don’t have to go in there,” I snarked. “But I’m getting Ethan. First the car, now sneaking out of the house? This shit has to stop.”

“Not disagreeing with you, wildflower. I’m just here to make sure you don’t do anything that could end the night with
your
ass in a jail cell. I might not be anything to you, but you’re carryin’ my child. That means I’m not gonna let you do anything stupid.”

The sweetness that came with the sound of my nickname on his lips quickly turned sour at the reminder of what I’d done to us.

Well, technically, I guess there wasn’t an
us
anymore. I’d seen to that, and from the look of anger he was wearing, it didn’t look like he’d be forgiving me any time soon. I pushed down the pain I felt as the cracks in my heart grew longer and wider.

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t do anything stupid. Can we just go get Ethan? I’m exhausted.”

“Lead the way,” Derrick answered, humor heavy in his voice as he waved me forward. I led the three of us up the walkway and shoved the front door open without so much as knocking.

At the sight of me standing in the open concept living room with two large men at my sides, a million eyes went wide—maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but whatever.

“That’s right, you little hooligans!” I shouted to the room-at-large. “The po-po’s here!” My arms started waving around as I pointed out what I was seeing. “Derrick, I see underage drinking, minors smoking what looks like pot, and… oh, for the love of God, Harry!” I yelled at one of the senior boys from my third period class. “You better pray that girl sucking on your neck is of legal age!”

“She’s eighteen, Ms. Prewitt,” the scared, pale boy replied as he and the girl on his lap scampered off the couch.

“Good,” I said with a nod before turning back to Derrick who was standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well? Do your job. Sic ‘em.”

With a deep laugh, he looked at Noah. “Did your woman just tell me to ‘sic ‘em’?”

“Not my woman anymore.”

I felt that. And it seriously fucking hurt.

“She’s carryin’ your baby, she’s your woman,” Derrick spoke, the humor having left his voice, and I was surprised to see his face was a mask of seriousness as his eyes burrowed into Noah. I didn’t have time to wonder what was up with that before Noah spoke again.

“Whatever,” he grunted. Then he addressed the room in a loud, booming voice. “If you’re one of my boys, I suggest you get your asses outta this house in the next five seconds or you’re gonna wish jail time was your punishment by the time I’m done with you!”

They all began moving toward the front door in one massive wave. Mutters of “Sorry, Coach” from various boys hit my ears. It was somewhat surprising to see the level of respect these kids had for Noah. I was hit with a sense of pride and a twinge of regret all at the same time. The room was almost empty, with no signs of Ethan, when Noah reached over and grabbed a hulking kid, almost the size of him, by the arm.

“Where’s Prewitt?” he asked.

“Uh, in the bathroom, Coach,” the nervous giant answered.

“What’s wrong with him?” I waded in as concern for my brother overwhelmed the million other emotions running rampant inside of me.

The kid looked almost shy as he struggled to meet my eyes. It was strange to see that reaction from a person that could snap me like a twig if he was so inclined. It spoke volumes of the level of respect Noah instilled in his team.

“Um, he’s sick, ma’am.”

“Sick?”

“Yes, ma’am. Had too much to drink.”

“All right,” Noah said, calling the boy’s attention back to him. “Get outta here, Lawson. And you better make sure none of those boys gets behind the wheel if they’ve been drinking. If I find out anyone gets hurt, I’m holding you responsible as team captain.”

“Yes sir,” the boy—or should I say, Lawson—captain of the varsity football team—answered before heading out the door.

The room cleared out as Derrick spoke up. “I’ll make sure the other rooms are clear. You go find her boy.” Then he was gone.

Noah took my arm and started leading me further into the house. “Come on.”

We were making our way down a long hall when I caught sight of someone I recognized, hurrying in our direction, obviously a straggler that was rushing to leave the party.

Shannon
.

“Hey,” I stopped her. “Where’s Ethan?”

Her face paled as she opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Um… I’m not… I don’t know. I-I didn’t come here with him.”

My eyes lowered into pissed-off slits just as a boy I didn’t recognize stepped up behind her. “Come on, babe. This party’s a bust, let’s get outta here.”

My body went tight and I tried my best to melt her face off with my eyes. Was it ridiculous? Absolutely. But this girl had been something to my brother, and seeing her with another guy meant she could have potentially hurt him. And
that
was something I would not tolerate.

“Well, don’t you move on fast,” I said venomously.

I felt Noah’s heat at my back before he spoke. “Easy, tiger,” he breathed in my ear, the close proximity causing goose bumps to break out across my skin. “We got bigger fish to fry.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest as I stared
Shannon
down.

“Get gone, Shannon. And you’ll be lucky if I don’t tell your folks about this.”

At Noah’s thinly veiled threat, skanky Shannon and her latest boy-toy took off past us.

Three doors down, we finally found Ethan. And sure enough, he was completely blitzed, hugging the toilet as he groaned in agony.

“Shit,” I whispered as Noah pushed into the bathroom and crouched down on the ground.

“Go get Derrick. I’ll need his help getting Ethan out of here.” he instructed.

“I can help,” I replied, stepping into the bathroom, immediately gagging at the pungent smell of vomit.

Noah’s voice was suddenly soft as he met my eyes. “He’s too big for you to move, sweetheart. Go get Derrick so we can get him out of here.”

I did my best to ignore the tears burning my throat at Noah’s sudden change in demeanor as I rushed down the hall in search of Derrick.

If nothing else, this night had proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just how much I had lost out on by being a coward.

It took two men and ten minutes to get Ethan into the back of Noah’s SUV since my truck didn’t have a back seat. As soon as we were finished, Derrick took off, his carefree demeanor having long since returned.

Noah followed me back to my house and helped get Ethan up the stairs—and by help, I mean he basically carried the brunt of my brother’s massive weight and dumped him on the bed. I pulled off his shoes and moved the covers over him while Noah got the trashcan from the bathroom and placed it beside his bed.

Once done, we moved back down the stairs in silence, stopping at the bottom near the front door.

An unexpected flood of sadness overcame me at the thought of him leaving. I opened my mouth to say something when he beat me to it.

“Well, I better get home. He’s gonna be feeling this in the morning. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I…” I trailed off. I wanted to say something… anything to get him to stay, to make things right between, but nothing I thought up sounded good enough. Finally, I asked, “Did you get my messages?”

That softness I’d seem back at the party disappeared as hardness overtook his face. “You mean that bullshit text that you missed me?” he asked with barely-contained fury. “Yeah, I got it. Sorry I didn’t respond. Not really in the mood to play fucking mind games, you know?”

“No…I…” My voice broke as a sob worked its way up my chest. “That’s not what I meant,” I said quietly.

“Well, you’ll have to forgive me if that’s how I took it. After all, you
are
the one that ended things. Excuse me for not being sensitive to how
you’re
feeling right now.”

“I-I sent another one,” I whispered brokenheartedly, the image of Noah in front of me blurring from tears.

“I didn’t read it.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and heaved out a huge sigh. “Look, I’m tired and you probably need to get some sleep yourself. I need to go. I’ll see you at school, okay?”

“I… yeah. Okay,” I agreed weakly, knowing I’d already lost. Watching him walk out of my house was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to live through. And I was suddenly hit with the realization that the agony I was feeling at that very moment was the same thing he’d experienced all those years ago.

I called in to work the next morning, knowing good and well that there was no way Ethan was going to be able to go to school, let alone move. Seeing that as an opportunity to say what needed to be said, I stayed home and waited for him to wake up, no doubt with the mother of all hangovers.

I didn’t have to wait too long. About a quarter after eight, he came stumbling down the stairs, looking like death warmed over.

“How are you feeling?” I asked conversationally from my stool at the kitchen island.

He emitted a pitiful groan and moved to the coffee maker. “Don’t talk so loud. I think my head’s about to fall off.”

I lifted my own mug and took a drink—mine being decaf, of course. “Yeah, well, I’m not feeling all that sympathetic this morning. You’ll have to excuse me.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, his back to me as he grabbed his now full mug. “I’m going back to bed until I feel like a normal human being. See you later.”

He took two steps when my mug hit the countertop with a loud thud. “Sit down,” I ordered in a voice so angry, his eyes shot to me.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture—” he back-talked, but I wasn’t done.

“That wasn’t a request. Sit. Down.
Now
.”

Obviously seeing the seriousness that had stiffened my body, Ethan wisely walked over and took the stool next to me.

“I’ve let this go on long enough. You’re constantly disrespectful. You took a car without permission and crashed it into a pole. You snuck out of the house when you were already grounded and got drunk at a party you shouldn’t even have been at! What the hell is going on with you? You’ve never been this rude or uncaring, Ethan, and I’m not letting you get up until I get some answers.”

“Nothing’s going on,” he mumbled sulkily.

“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. This all started a few weeks after the funeral. Is that why you’ve been so upset lately? Is it because of Grammy? I miss her too, bud. If you need to talk about it that’s what I’m here for.”

His eyes remained unmoving from his coffee cup. His shoulders were slumped. Everything about his posture mirrored his sullen demeanor.

“It’s not about Gram… well I mean, it kinda is, I guess.” His back rose and fell with a heavy breath as he turned his head slightly to look at me. “Look, just forget it, okay? Can I just go back to bed please? I feel like shit.”