Off the Hook: Faking it #3 Page 2
In fact, I always wanted to say yes to her. I wanted to please her, which was why I had put myself in the dangerous position of sleeping in her bedroom tonight.
How dumb did that make me?
Shaking my head, I drew myself from my thoughts and turned my face sideways. Immediately I was greeted with a shock of platinum blonde hair and eyes as blue as the Pacific Ocean.
"Hi," she giggled, twisting onto her side to face me.
"Hey," I croaked out, unable to stop myself from mirroring her actions.
"How are you feeling?"
"Andi, I told you I'm fine."
I balked when her hand snaked out and cupped my bruised cheek. "I hate that this happens to you," she whispered, touching me with tenderness. "I shouldn’t have asked you to take me trick or treating at the trailer park."
"You shouldn’t be down here on the floor with me," I changed the subject by saying, reveling in the feel of having her on the floor beside me. I didn’t like reminders of why I wasn’t good enough to be her friend. Sleeping in her mansion of a house was enough of a reality check without her bringing up the fact that I came from a trailer park.
"My bed's big enough for both of us," she shot back, innocent as always.
I swallowed deeply. "I'm not sleeping in your bed, Andi."
"Fine," she replied. "Then I'm not sleeping in it either."
Exhaling a sharp breath, I rolled onto my back and clenched my eyes shut.
This girl was going to be the death of me…
****
Several hours later, I woke on my stomach in a blanket of sweat, and with the weight of a tiny blonde pressing me to the floor. Andi's leg was sprawled over my back. Her head was snuggled into my shoulder and her arms were wrapped tightly around me.
"Damn, Andi," I moaned, struggling to sit up. "You tryna kill me, girl?"
"Sorry." She rolled off me and smiled up at me sleepily. "I didn’t realize I was squeezing on you so tight."
Shaking my head, I forced myself to ignore the way my heart was hammering in my chest before lying back down.
The minute I rolled onto my side, she did it again.
"What are you doing?" I growled, clenching my eyes shut when her leg brushed my thigh.
"Hugging you," she replied sweetly as she continued to snuggle into my back. "I like sleeping with you." She shimmied even closer and wrapped her small arm around my waist. "You're real comfy, Nathan Cole."
"You can't be hugging on me like this, Andi," I groaned, attempting to move away from her. It was no use. Every time I moved away, she followed me.
"Why not?" I felt her nose press against my back as she spoke. "You're big and strong and warm." She giggled and held me tighter. "Like a hot water bottle or a teddy bear or something."
"That aint funny."
"You can be my little spoon." She laughed harder. "I'll be the big spoon and take care of you."
"Nuh-uh. Oh, hell no." Twisting around like a maniac, I rolled us both so that I was the big spoon. "You're the little spoon round here, girl," I grumbled, pulling her close.
"Fine by me," she whispered, backing up against my chest. "I like being your little spoon."
Goddamn…
****
Andi
(Age 12)
WHAT HAD STARTED AS an argument over Jackson's football team losing their game this afternoon had ended in bloodshed.
My father, furious with my brother for not 'giving it one hundred and ten percent on the field' had gnawed at and goaded my brother until he snapped.
Jackson was only thirteen and no match for our father. The fact that his entire face was covered in blood only proved the truth. His face was all beat up and bruised and I couldn’t stop crying as I watched him curl up in the fetal position as our father continued to kick him.
"Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again, you little shit," Daddy snarled before kicking my brother once more in the ribs. "You better stay down, boy. If you know what's good for you..."
Please stay down.
Please stay down.
"Asshole," Jackson hissed as he struggled to get to his feet.
I wailed loudly at the sight of my brother's sheer stubbornness.
Why couldn’t he just stay down?
Fear was escalating inside of me. I knew I had to do something – anything – but I was scared.
I was a coward.
Just then, the sound of the front door slamming drummed through my ears.
I sagged in relief when I saw my brother's best friend walk into the lounge.
"Don’t," I whispered in horror when Nathan lunged towards my father. Wrapping my hands around his waist, I clung to his body like a baby monkey. "Please." I was sobbing now. Crying real hard and ugly. "Please don’t. He'll hurt you, too."
Nate clenched his jaw as he stared past me, glaring at my father. "Walk away, Jacko," he finally said, instructing my brother to back down. "Come on, man," he added, eyes trained on my brother who was clutching his ribcage. "Walk. Away."
"Quarterback," Daddy sneered, finally noticing Nathan's presence. "Good game today." He wiped the palms of his hands against his tailored suit pants before casually adjusting his tie. "You could teach my son a thing or two on the field."
"Jackson doesn’t need me to teach him anything. He played well today," Nate shot back coolly. "We lost because we're younger and they're better. Plain and simple."
"Yeah," my father sneered. " Well…"
"Give us a couple of years and we'll beat them," Nathan added in a deathly cold tone. "We'll fucking kill them when we're older." I could hear the menace in his voice, and apparently so could my father because he began to withdraw and simmer down a little.
Turning to my brother, Dad hissed, "Get your shit together, boy. You were an embarrassment to the Davis name out there today." Having said that, Dad turned to me and growled. "Get your ass up those stairs and into your bedroom now, Adriana," before retreating to his office.
The moment Dad was out of sight, I rushed towards my brother. "Are you okay?" I cried, wrapping my arms around him, only to cry harder when he flinched in pain.
"I'm gonna kill him," Jackson hissed as he wiped blood from his lips. His eyes were locked on Nate as he spoke. "One of these days, I'm gonna take that bastard out."
Nate nodded in understanding. "And I'm gonna help you."
****
Nate
(Age 14)
SOMETIMES, I REALLY WANTED to hit her back.
I knew that made me sound like a piece of shit son, but it was the truth.
Every time I stood in that trailer and took a beating from my momma, I wanted to snap. I wanted to fight back.
Tonight, I came this close to losing it.
It was bad enough when she hit me, but letting her deadbeat, loser boyfriend hit on me?
Fuck that.
I wasn’t going back there tonight.
Throwing a few things into my backpack, I slipped it on my shoulders and stalked out of my mother's trailer, hell bent on getting as far away from her as I possibly could.
There was only one place I could go this late at night; Jackson's.
Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I dragged my bicycle off the ground before quickly hopping on.
"Get your ass back here, boy!" my mother's voice came from behind me.
I pedaled faster.
****
WHEN I REACHED THE Davis's house and saw the car-less driveway in front of me, I sagged in relief.
Their parents weren't home again…
Pedaling up to the house, I pressed on the brakes and hopped off my bike, not caring when it fell roughly to the ground. I was too fired up to be gentle with anything right now.
Not bothering to knock on the door – it was late, and they never answered it anyway – I turned the door handle and let myself inside.
The foyer was in darkness.
Perfect.
With my bag on my back, I spent a good ten minutes just standing there, in
the black of the night, breathing in deep and slow, attempting to calm myself down.
Eventually, when I didn’t feel quite so homicidal, I crept through the unlit house with ease. I spent more time here than I did my own home. I knew the layout of every room and every piece of furniture.
When I reached the staircase, I slipped my boots off and walked up the steps in my socks, hoping I wouldn’t wake either of them.
I made an effort to be extra quiet when I passed her door; the thought of her seeing me like this driving me fucking crazy. I was bruised and bloody. She didn’t need to see it. She didn’t need to worry. I knew she already had enough of those of her own…
Jackson's room was empty when I slipped inside and his absence made my anger return. He was a real dick sometimes. Leaving his sister alone all night?
Goddammit…
"Nate?"
The light in the hallway flicked on.
"Are you okay?" I could hear the concern in her voice. "It's like two in the morning?"
"I just need somewhere to crash for the night." I couldn’t look her in the eye. I couldn’t see those blue eyes fill up with sadness. She had enough of that in her life already. "Go on back to bed." I didn’t turn around as I spoke. I kept my back to her and my eyes closed, willing her to do as I said. "I'll be out of your hair first thing."
The footsteps I heard did little to comfort me.
They weren't receding; they were drawing closer.
The moment I felt her hand on the back of my shoulder, I almost groaned out loud.
"Where does it hurt?" she whispered, trailing her fingers over the broadness of my back.
Everywhere, I wanted to confess, but I didn’t say a word.
Adriana Davis stood in front of me looking like all my Christmases rolled into one beautiful package. She was all skin and bones and blonde hair pillowing around her fragile frame. She had on a pair of pink flannel pajama pants and a matching long sleeved shirt. There was nothing sexual about her appearance in this moment, but my heart still slammed in my chest at the sight. "Where does it hurt?" she repeated, voice pained.
My heart…
Again, I remained silent, unable to tell her, unable to move a muscle from the sheer sight of her.
I loved her.
I knew that sounded dumb.
I knew I was too young to fully appreciate the meaning of the word, but it didn’t matter.
I honest to god fucking loved this girl like nothing else before.
My heart slammed against my chest as I watched her watching me. It caused me physical pain being this close to her. I almost couldn’t bear it.
I was supposed to stay away from Andi – her father had warned me as much. But I fucking ached whenever she was nearby. Being mad seemed to be the only way to stop myself from acting on my feelings.
And I was mad at her.
Mad at her for making me feel this way.
Mad at her for making me weak.
"Let me see," she whispered then as she reached for the hem of my shirt.
Instinctively, I pushed her hand away. "What do you think you're doing, girl?" my voice was thick and gruff, the feel of her hands on me too fucking good to comprehend.
"I’m checking you over," she replied innocently, reaching for the hem of my shirt once more.
This time I let her.
I didn’t push her away.
I didn’t have the strength to.
Instead, I allowed her to lift my shirt. Worse than allow her, I reached one hand behind my back and tugged it off, letting it fall to the floor between us.
"Oh my god, Nate," Andi said in a strangled tone, eyes locked on my stomach. "What did that animal do to you?"
Nothing that hasn't already been done before, I refrained from saying.
Her eyes trailed over my purple stained flesh and I cringed when I watched them fill up with tears. Seeing her crying hurt worse than the beating I'd just taken.
"Don’t," I warned her. "Don’t you dare cry over this."
"I can't help it," she whispered, fingers still trailing over my stomach. "When you're in pain, I'm in pain."
Why the hell did she have to say shit like that to me?
Didn’t she know she shouldn’t give false hope to guys like me?
"Come on," she instructed then, gesturing for me to follow her to her room. "I have some arnica cream in my room."
Bending down, I retrieved my shirt. "What are you doing with arnica cream, Andi?"
She smiled back at me. "You know how I bruise easily."
Oh yeah. "I remember," I replied as I trailed after her.
Which was why I needed to steer clear of this girl.
I had an unintentional tendency of breaking the things I loved the most.
****
Andi
(Age 14)
"WHO IS YOUR FATHER, NATE?" I asked as he walked me home from Kim's house.
I spent most of the evening babysitting Callie and I'd grown curious. The walls of his sister's home were ordained with tons of photographs and family pictures. I'd managed to identify every person in every picture.
All except his father…
It was a question I had spent nine years working up the courage to ask. I figured now was as good a chance as I would ever get.
"My father?" Nate frowned as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his red hoodie. "He was a ghost in the night, Andi. Didn’t stick around once my momma started showing – at least that's what Kim told me."
"Oh." Hurrying to keep up with Nathan's long strides, I wrapped my arms around my body, hugging myself. "And the guy in the pictures – the one in the army uniform. That's Kim's father, right?"
Nathan nodded in confirmation. "Corporal Jason Cole."
"What happened to him?" I watched his side profile as we walked.
"Who?" He looked sideways at me. "Kim's father?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Poor bastard was killed in Iraq," Nate explained. "It was his first deployment. My mother was never the same after that – or so I've been told."
I knew Kim and Nathan couldn’t have the same father, but it wasn’t something I'd ever put much thought into.
Nate sighed heavily before adding, "Kim's father was the one guy my mother actually loved."
"How come you have his name?" I asked, staring up at his face. "Is that allowed?" I blushed at my lack of knowledge. "I mean; can a woman give a child the surname of a man who's not his biological father?"
"They were married," Nate shot back gruffly, as if that was explanation enough.
It wasn’t.
Not to me, at least.
"So yeah, I've got the name of a dead soldier and he's not my father." Shrugging, he added, "Cole suits me better than Jones anyway."
"That's your father's name?" I asked, curious. "Jones?"
Nate nodded. "Dixon Jones."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"Not a clue," Nate admitted. "Never even met the guy." He slowed his pace then, giving me a chance to catch up – and catch my breath. "But I know he's got family out in Colorado." Nate scrunched his nose up in what looked like disgust to me. "According to Kim, he's got brothers and sisters there. One of them is a doctor… Max, I think she said his name was."
"Then we should go there someday," I announced excitedly. "And meet your family."
Nate cocked a brow. "And beg for scraps?" He shook his head. "No way. I don’t need shit from him." We reached the bottom of my street when he asked, "What’s with the twenty questions anyway?"
"Oh…" My cheeks burned red. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to know."
"Why?" he asked with a smirk as we reached the bottom of my driveway.
"Because I want to know everything about you," I explained lamely.
"You know more than most, Andi Davis," Nate shot back as he walked me to my door.
I did? "How'd you figure that?"
Stopping just outside the door, Nate shoved his hands back into his hoodie. "Because."
I waited expectantly. "Because?"
He was looking straight at me and the heat in his stare was making my stomach do somersaults.
Nate's brows furrowed. "Because… because you just do."
He seemed as confused as I was.
"You know me best, too, Nate," I whispered then, feeling the burn in my cheeks.
"Yeah?" His tone was gruff, his eyes darker than normal.
Instinctively, I took a step closer. "Yeah."
Nate continued to look at me with that heated expression for a long moment before finally shaking his head and taking a safe step back. "You should go inside," he finally said, voice thick and deeper than before. "It's getting late."
"Yeah, okay." Nodding, I bit down on my bottom lip and forced the disappointment down. For a moment there, I'd thought he was going to kiss me…
"Thanks for sitting for Callie tonight. Kim really appreciated it."
"It's honestly no trouble." I smiled brightly. "I love Callie."
"And she loves you right back," Nate shot back with a chuckle, following me into the foyer of my house.
I wish you loved me back, I wanted to scream, but of course, I didn’t. Instead, I said goodnight to my brother's best friend and retreated to my room where he would continue to haunt me in my dreams tonight.
****
Nate
(Age 16)
THIS WASN’T HAPPENING.
This couldn’t be fucking happening.
Callie wasn’t Trey's biological daughter.
She belonged to Clive Davis…
Pressing my fingers to my temples, I paced my sister's kitchen, feeling furious and fucking horrified. "How could you do this to Trey?" I roared, chest heaving. Kim's husband was a good man and she'd pulled a fucking trick on him. It was one of the cruelest things a woman could do to a man, and she fucking did it! "How could you not tell me?" I demanded, feeling hurt and thoroughly disgusted. It was bad enough to find out my sister had an underage affair with my best friend's father, but to find out she had a baby by him?