Until You

  She saw everything that made me a loser.

  And that’s when I knew what she was doing. She was playing a game with me. Looking at me, getting me to nearly lose it.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned away to walk out. “No one else is complaining so why don’t you shut up and leave it alone?”

  “Leave the key,” she shot back, and I stopped.

  I exhaled a bitter laugh. “You know, I underestimated you. You haven’t cried yet, have you?”

  “Because of the rumor you started this week? Not a chance.”

  Yep, she thought those pictures were my idea.

  “Please, like I even have to resort to spreading rumors. Your cross-country pals did that. And their pictures. Everyone drew their own conclusions.” And I walked back over to her and got in her face. “But I’m boring you. I guess I have to step up my game.”

  The threat hung in the air between us.

  Her lips pursed, and her eyes must’ve burned. They were shooting flames.

  She was ready to lose it. In 3-2-1…

  “What did I ever do to you?” she screamed.

  I shrugged my shoulders, not willing to tell her the truth. “I don’t know why you ever thought you did something. You were clingy, and I got sick of putting up with it is all.”

  She wasn’t clingy. She was dishonest and unreliable.

  “That’s not true. I wasn’t clingy.” She choked on a breath. “You were over at my house as much as I was at yours. We were friends.” She looked at me with such sadness. Her face was tight, and tears pooled in her eyes.

  All a fucking lie.

  I smiled, but it burned with more anger than amusement. “Yeah, keep livin’ the dream.”

  “I hate you!”

  And there it was.

  “Good!” I shouted, bearing down on her, my heart beating wildly. “Finally! Because it’s been a long time since I could stand the sight of you.” And I slammed the palm of my hand against the wall near her head.

  She flinched, and my heart did a nosedive straight to my stomach.

  Shit.

  I’d scared her.

  Why the hell did I just do that?

  I backed off an inch.

  I’d wanted to hit something but not her. And I didn’t want her to think I’d even come close to doing that. Ever. I’d never hit a girl and would never hit one in my life.

  Goddamn it. She wasn’t looking at me now.

  Things were never this bad between us.

  She used to turn-tail and run. Before France. Or before she knew she was leaving for France, anyway.

  And when she’d bow out, I’d power down.

  I could be satisfied.

  But now…now, I wasn’t the stronger one. She was meeting going head to head with me and taking the challenge.

  We both stood there, and she finally looked up to meet my eyes. Something passed in the blue ocean of hers. Despair? Regret?

  And finally, resolution.

  My eyes were still trained on her, waiting for her to say something, when she turned around to look out the window.

  “Oh, look. It’s the police,” she said in a light voice. “I wonder why they’re here.”

  I looked over her shoulder to see two black and whites, lights flashing and parked in front of my house. A couple of officers climbed up the incline into my yard, looking around at the chaos.

  Son of a bitch.

  There was no time to call them when I entered her house. She must’ve filed a complaint earlier.

  Right now, you’re looking at her like you want to tie her up and give her a big, fat spanking.

  Madoc’s stupid assessment was true. She definitely deserved a huge spanking.

  “I promise you will be in tears by next week.” I was going to do what I had to do. My tone was calm, decisive, and final, and I left the room, already making my plans.

  “Leave the key,” she shouted after me.

  But I never do what I’m told.

  After I cleared everyone out of my house, the cops wrote me a huge ass ticket and called my mother.

  But it all affected me about as much as war in the Middle East.

  Trouble with the cops? Old news.

  Getting squeezed for cash I didn’t have? Child’s play.

  Jax and Madoc helped me clean up the house before my mom got home, and then I showered and went to bed, letting Jax crash in the spare bedroom.

  Tate was the only thing on my mind right now. Any inkling that what I was thinking of doing might be going too far was shoved out of my head. Did she really set out to hurt me? No. Was I setting out to hurt her? Definitely.

  But it was all a game.

  She didn’t care, and anything we shared years ago was nothing to her. Every time I pushed her, it wasn’t really about making her feel bad. It was about proving to myself that my head and heart weren’t in her control.

  And if I could rip her from my head and my heart, kill everything good I felt about her, then I was strong.

  “Hey, K.C.?” I walked up to the concession counter at Spotlight Cinemas where Tate’s best friend worked. “How’s it going?”

  She looked up from her book and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk to me, Shit-For-Brains.”

  “Ouch.” I smiled and gave her a condescending nod. “Good for you.”

  K.C. was Tate’s best friend. Her only friend, really. Winning her over, possibly seducing her, would tear Tate apart, and I was ignoring the voice in my head that kept screaming at me to stop this.

  This was going too far.

  I was about to use someone to hurt a girl I once loved? Who the hell did I take lessons from in pettiness?

  Tate’s arrival back home brought ups and downs. My ups were better than I’d felt in a year, but my downs had me clawing at the fucking walls again. K.C. was collateral damage.

  I could do this.

  “Can I have a large popcorn and a Coke, please?”

  K.C. rolled her eyes and walked toward the food.

  I strolled down the stand to where she was shoveling popcorn into a bucket.

  Here we go.

  “So, are you heading to the Loop tonight with Liam?” I asked about her boyfriend.

  Without lifting her eyes from her task, she shook her head. “How often do you see me there, Jared?” she asked, annoyed. “A bunch of little boys moaning and groaning about the size of their dicks—oh, excuse me—I mean, the size of their engines, and I’m supposed to find that fun?”

  “Take it easy.” I held up my hands. “I just thought that since Liam was racing, you’d be there to support him.”

  Now she looked up. “He’s racing?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my tone nonchalant. “He’s racing Nate Dietrich. He didn’t tell you?”

  Lifting her chin, looking none too pleased, she slammed the popcorn on the counter and turned around to get the soda.

  Her boyfriend, while a pretty nice guy, was also pretty damn pathetic. He’s the type of guy that would give up top secret information in the first five minutes of torture. I had no respect for him.

  And with all of his weaknesses, I also found out one more. Several weeks ago at the Loop one night, I saw that he had a girl on the side.

  And that was my ticket in with K.C. Break up her relationship, get her in my corner, and piss off Tate.

  “Sorry,” I offered. “He probably knows it’s not your scene. It gets pretty crazy out there. Some girls love it. Some hate it,” I mumbled, trying to sound like the conversation bored me. But on the inside, I was laughing. I couldn’t have predicted K.C.’s reaction better.

  She handed me my food, refusing to speak, and I gave her a twenty and collected my change.

  Grabbing the shit I didn’t intend to eat and walking towards a theater I didn’t intend to stay in, I turned around and lifted my—hopefully—innocent looking eyebrows.

  “K.C.?” She looked up when I said her name. “You live on Evans, right?”

  “Yeah.”

>   “It’s on my way. I’d be happy to give you a lift if you want to surprise him tonight.”

  My hands were sweaty, or maybe it was the condensation from the drink cup, but I was actually nervous. If she refused—or called Liam to confirm the race—I’d be up a shit creek.

  “I don’t think so.”

  My stomach sunk, but I shrugged my shoulders and offered a tight smile anyway.

  “It’s just a ride, K.C. Tate and I have an unusual relationship. I’m not like that with everyone, and you know it.” I held her green eyes, seeing the wheels turning. Should she or shouldn’t she? She was thinking about it, and that was a good sign. “But okay,” I relented, “see you at school.”

  Walking away, I could almost hear K.C. make up her mind.

  “What time are you heading out?” she called after me.

  Coming to an abrupt stop like I hadn’t expected her to change her mind, I turned around. “Leaving about seven-thirty.”

  “All right.” She nodded, her tone a little nicer. “Seven thirty. It’s 1128 Evans,” she clarified.

  “A thank you would be nice,” I teased.

  “Yeah, it would.” And she returned to her duties.

  Once inside the theater, I handed my food to some pre-teens and headed out the back exit.

  “What?”

  K.C.’s shriek was probably picked up on Russian sonar, and Madoc and I just stood back to watch the show.

  “K.C.!” Her boyfriend—or maybe ex-boyfriend now—squirmed his way out the redhead’s arms and rushed up to his girlfriend.

  We’d made it to the Loop right on time. I even had Madoc go ahead of me to text and confirm that Liam was at the races tonight and with his side piece.

  “Are you kidding me?” K.C. yelled.

  “Please—” Liam started, but Madoc cut him off.

  “It’s not what it looks like?” he finished for Liam, laughing.

  “Shut up, goddamn it!” Liam barked at Madoc while my friend laughed even harder.

  Liam reached for K.C., but she pulled away. “Don’t touch me. I trusted you!”

  “Dude, hands off.” I stepped in.

  Liam wouldn’t look at me but kept his hands to himself now. “Why are you here?” he stammered at K.C.

  But K.C. ignored the question. “Who is she?” she looked at the redhead leaned up against Liam’s Camaro.

  “Please,” the redhead, who didn’t seem fazed at all, pleaded sarcastically. “We’ve been seeing each other for two months. Not so bright, are you?”

  K.C. was about to lose it, so I took her gently by the crook of her arm and led her backwards, out of the mess.

  “Would you take me home, please?” Her breathing was ragged, and she looked embarrassed and heartbroken.

  I’m a dick.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, all of a sudden feeling really shitty. “I have to race first, but Madoc will let you sit in his car while you wait, okay? Give me ten minutes.”

  I nodded to Madoc, who rolled his eyes, probably wondering what the hell I was up to.

  After the race, I drove K.C. home, probably not feeling as badly as her but definitely not feeling good.

  Nothing about what I was doing was right, but fuck me, it was the only plan I had to shatter Tate’s world.

  “K.C., I’m really sorry.”

  “Did you know about this?” She used her fingers to wipe away the tears and mascara streaks.

  I almost felt like throwing up. “Absolutely not,” I lied. “If I did, I wouldn’t have told you. Sorry, it’s a guy code.” And that part was the truth. Unless the girlfriend of a friend is also your friend, then you don’t interfere.

  “Ugh,” she grunted, more angry than sad now.

  “Hey, look. Believe it or not, I am really sorry you’re hurting,” I offered, pulling up in front of her house. “Go eat chocolate or binge shop online. Whatever girls do to feel better. And I promise to kick his ass in a race next weekend. You can even come along to watch if you feel up to it.”

  But my joke didn’t lighten the mood. “You think you’re so much better than him?”

  And even though I knew she made a valid point, I did think I was better than Liam. I don’t know why. Maybe because I saw Liam as spineless. If I lied, it was for a good reason. Not just because I was too weak to let go of what I no longer wanted.

  But I was, wasn’t I? I couldn’t let Tate go.

  “Yes,” I finally answered. “I don’t cheat on girlfriends, because I don’t give the impression that I want a relationship. Look,” I started, taking off my seatbelt. “I may go through girls faster than gum, but it’s not because I feel that they’re worthless or disposable, okay? It’s all me. I know I’m not good for anything more, so why let people in?”

  And for once, I wasn’t playing a part for K.C. I told her the truth.

  I wasn’t trying to get into her pants, and I didn’t care about her or what she thought about me. For the first time in a long time, I was totally comfortable being honest with someone.

  Her gaze was fixed out of the window. “I guess you’ll never know,” she almost whispered, as if to herself.

  No, I do know, I thought to myself. I know very well what happens when you let people in.

  “You should try letting go,” I suggested, clearing my throat. “There’s no reason to cry over someone that wasn’t thinking about you when he was with someone else. You deserve better.”

  She sat there for a moment and finally offered me a tight smile.

  “You’re still a dick,” she conceded as she got out of the car, but I caught sight of a small grin on her face that told me she was just joking.

  Over the next two days, I slowly weaseled my way into K.C.’s life, shooting her concerned texts and trying to appear sincere. I wasn’t sure if she was disclosing our communication to Tate, but it was only a matter of time before I made sure Tate found out anyway.

  “Thank you for the ride.” K.C. unfastened the helmet and smiled down at me.

  It was Monday night, and I’d just picked her up from work after she’d texted, asking for a ride.

  When I got there, though, she started acting unnaturally affectionate. Rubbing her fingers through my hair, touching my arm. Familiarity we hadn’t gotten to yet.

  I looked behind her, before she climbed on my motorcycle, and spied her ex with some of his friends inside the theater lobby, watching us.

  And that’s when I knew what she was doing.

  I smiled, pretty proud of her for using me, actually.

  And interested.

  Tate had been giving me the evil eye today, and if I could continue to get under her skin while helping K.C. make her boyfriend jealous—without actually having to go that far with her—then I was comfortable.

  I took the helmet out of her hands and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

  She let out a tiny sigh with her smile.

  K.C. was a good girl, and the knots in my stomach settled.

  Firing the engine on my bike, I put on my helmet and sped off, not sure where.

  I never wanted to be home anymore.

  Or maybe I always wanted to be home.

  Tate was alone next door, and I couldn’t help where my thoughts traveled. We were both kind of on our own—her dad out of the country, and my mom leaving me by myself most of the time—and my damn dirty mind always entertained ideas of shit I couldn’t have with Tate. Every night we’d fall asleep less than fifty feet from each other, and the gnawing sensation in my head had me ready to scream.

  All that wasted time.

  After spending a couple of hours at the garage where I worked, hanging out with Madoc and doing some maintenance on my bike, I was finally satisfied that Tate was probably asleep. I wouldn’t have to look at her bedroom, warmed by the bright light, and wonder what she was doing in there.

  Or what she was wearing.

  Stopping at a red light, I checked my rearview mirror and did a double-take.

  Is that…
?

  A Honda S2K was behind me.

  A white 2005 Honda S2K.

  Shit.

  My heart climbed up my throat.

  I knew these guys, and I clenched the handlebars, trying to steady my nerves.

  Idiot Vin Diesel wannabes from Weston that didn’t know how to lose gracefully. I’d raced the owner of the car at the Loop last week and beat him. He’d made a big show about it being an unfair race, and from the looks of it, he hadn’t gotten over it.

  They were the only car behind me, but they’d given me a wide berth.

  The light turned to green, and as soon as I laid on the gas, the Honda did as well.

  Dammit. I shook my head, my fears proved true. Not tonight.

  Slipping my phone out of the front pocket of my hoodie, I dialed Madoc.

  “Hey,” I said, glancing in my mirror again, “are you home yet?”

  “No.”

  Slowing down for the stop sign, I spoke quickly. “Turn around and head to my house. Got a tail of the Fast and Furious variety. May need some back up.”

  “I’ll be there in five.” And he hung up.

  Fumbling, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. As I laid off the clutch, I revved the gas and sped off around the corner. A cold rush of wind hit my face, and I strangled the handlebars to keep my body glued to the bike.

  Shit.

  My heart was damn-near pounding through my chest, but I didn’t take my eyes off the road, even to look behind me.

  I wasn’t in a hurry to get there without Madoc backing me up, but I didn’t want to risk that they’d start some shit with me still driving my bike, either.

  They were in a car. I was the vulnerable one.

  Racing up my driveway, I twisted my head around in time to see the Honda speeding to a screeching halt at my front curb.

  Ryland Banks, the short, buzzed-cut driver and owner of the car, got out right away.

  Tate.

  I darted my eyes to her house, fear gripping my insides, and I gritted my teeth with the urge to hit myself.

  Why had I led them back here?

  Tate was alone, and now, she was unsafe. Who knew what kind of weapons these guys carried?

  Yanking off my helmet, I charged down the lawn, cutting them off before they got any closer.