Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2) Page 11

  I say nothing.

  “What were you dreaming about?”

  I don’t wanna talk about this. But she won’t talk to me unless I talk to her, and I’m hiding a lot from her already, so fuck it. “Foster care.”

  Just two words. There. Was it easy? Nope. I feel as if I’ve just had to break two of my teeth and spit them out.

  I don’t talk about my nightmares to anyone. Ever. Not even to Seth who happens to be the one to wake me up every time. Or to Zane who has given me all I have. So why am I telling her?

  Her hands stop their massaging. I frown, but before I turn to look at her, she slips her arms around me and rests her cheek between my shoulder blades.

  “What happened to you there?”

  My heart hammers in my chest. I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry. “I don’t…” My throat clicks. Oh shit. I so don’t wanna talk about this. What was I thinking? “Nothing happened.”

  “A nothing that gives you nightmares?”

  My jaw clenches. “Yeah. Like the nothing that makes you scared of Seth.”

  I hear her sharp intake of breath. After a few moments pass, she exhales. “Touché.”

  But it doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me feel worse that I threw her words back at her. She doesn’t deserve this. She saved my life, Shane’s life. Probably more. She’s a strong person. Whatever happened must be still scaring her, stopping her from talking about it.

  And because that means my past is scaring me, too, I force myself to talk about it. “It was hell,” I say.

  Her hands shift, splaying on my stomach. I expect her to ask something, but she doesn’t. Leaves the ball in my court.

  “We were all dumped together in this big old facility.” I lick my lips, desperately trying to wet them. “Some of us, the newer ones, slept on the floor. We had to fight over food. Some of the kids there formed a gang and stole all the food, then beat up everyone who resisted.”

  She still says nothing, and the words come with difficulty. I’d never talked about all this before. “They raped the girls, even some of the younger boys, and I couldn’t…” Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow convulsively. Shit. “I couldn’t stop them.”

  Can’t do this, dammit. I get up, shaking free of her arms, and pace the room. Shoving my hands through my hair, I stop at the window. It’s dark outside, and my reflection stares back at me. I look like roadkill, face pale, eyes wide, short hair standing on end.

  In the reflection, I can see Ev sitting on my bed, hands in her lap. She looks sad and small. Shit, my outburst must have scared her. Hell, I don’t blame her. I turn around and walk back to her. I sit beside her and reach for her hand. She slips it into mine and gives me a smile, but it’s strained.

  Fuck. “Ev? I know my past isn’t that good, and hell, I have nightmares and shit, but I’d never hurt you.” I take a deep breath. “You know that, right?”

  She squeezes my hand, and her smile turns real. “Of course I know that. I’m not worried.”

  Okay. I don’t know what else to say. She’s a lovely puzzle that I can’t solve—shy and bold, innocent and sexy, unafraid and scared, running and still standing still.

  Unpredictable. Startling. Addictive.

  “It’s just that…” She glances at me from under lowered lashes, and her pretty mouth twists. “Your words reminded me of my own failures.”

  “Failures?” I don’t understand.

  Her hand trembles in mine, and she looks away. “I’ve let people down, people who depended on me.”

  Still don’t get it. “Your parents?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m sure I’ve let them down, too, but they’ll survive. No, that’s not what I mean. People I helped on the street and didn’t manage to save.”

  My heart thumps too fast against my ribs. “Like who?”

  “A couple old people. You wouldn’t know them. They usually were close to home, not around here.”

  I want to ask her if she remembers me at all—if she remembers a man who was sick, a man she saved. But she doesn’t mention me, and I don’t know if to feel relieved or disappointed. Don’t know if to just throw caution to the wind and tell her the truth or wait until I know the cause of her fear.

  Yeah, isn’t this just great? Turns out I can’t even predict myself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  EVANGELINE

  Leaving Micah in the morning is hard. It seems to get harder every day. Sleeping in his arms is the best place in the world.

  But now reality crashes down on me. I have several missed calls on my cell, from Mom, Joel, even Dad. Oh shit.

  I call Joel first, figuring it will be easier to deal with him, but boy was I wrong.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Evie?” he demands, his voice sharp. “Where are you?”

  “I’m an adult now,” I say through gritted teeth. “I don’t have to give a report to you.”

  “Is that right?” His tone chills me. “You really don’t care that we’re worried about you?”

  “What do you have to be worried about? I told you, I stayed with a friend.”

  “A friend? Are you sure? Because Blake told me you were wandering the streets again and talking to shady people.”

  “Shady people? Are you kidding me?” Anger rolls through me like fire. “Blake followed me and threatened to hurt anyone I’d talk to on the street, and you listen to him?”

  “Oh, come on, Evie. Blake wouldn’t do that.”

  “So now you’re saying I’m lying.” My eyes burn. “I don’t lie, Joey. He’s scaring me.”

  A silence greets my words. Then Joel says, “Blake isn’t like that. You know that. He saved your life, Evie. He’s the one who called the ambulance for you, you—”

  “I know, all right? But how did he know where to find me?”

  “What? You’re being paranoid. He just happened to be there!”

  “I don’t trust him, Joey.”

  “Dammit.” He sighs. “Mom and Dad want to have a serious talk with you.”

  Crap. “I can’t do this anymore. Having to explain my every action… I need out.”

  “What do you mean?” Quiet. Resigned. I think he knows what I’m about to say.

  “I need to move out.”

  This time the silence stretches far longer.

  “Evie…” He grunts, and I hear a sound as if he’s kicking something. “Will you be careful?”

  “I’m always careful,” I say. “I didn’t cause the accident. You know that, right? It could have happened to anyone.”

  He sighs again. “I know. Can’t help worrying about you, sis.”

  This makes me smile. “I worry about you, too. Hey, did you finally ask that brunette out yet?”

  “What brunette?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about, Joel Kingsley. The girl working on campus, in the library. Ethel?”

  “Ellen.” He chuckles. “No progress on that front.”

  That’s my brother. I missed him. Before Blake and the accident, things were always like this between us: easy.

  “I’ll talk to Mom and Dad,” I say. “After work today.” I tug on the sleeve of my jacket. “Will you be there?”

  “Maybe.” He tsks. “What will you give for me to be there?”

  It startles a laugh out of me. “You’d extort your own sister?”

  “To get you to bake me those chocolate brownies of yours? You bet. At least two dozens, sis.” He’s still chuckling as he disconnects the call.

  Bastard. But I’m grinning as I head to work, patting down the new jeans and blouse I bought yesterday with Cassie. I refuse to acknowledge the swarms of butterflies in my stomach.

  This is me, getting my life back. Finding happiness. Finding me.

  ***

  “Micah works at Damage Control?” Cassie’s cheeks flush. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” To say she’s reacting strangely is the understatement of the year. “Why?”

  “Oh nothing.�
�� The blush turns crimson. “Nothing.”

  “Who else works there?” I lean toward her, curious in spite of myself.

  “Just this guy I’ve met a few times when I go out with the girls. His name’s Jesse.”

  “And he’s hot, huh?”

  She giggles, then claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh God, this is so stupid. He doesn’t even know I exist.”

  “Then talk to him.”

  “I can’t.” She fans herself. “He’s got girls all over him, like, every night. He’s just cute, that’s all. Now stop talking about Jesse and tell me about Micah!”

  I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know where to start. “He’s great. He’s just…” Familiar heat floods my face.

  “Oh God, you’re in love with him, aren’t you? I knew it.”

  I don’t know where to run and hide. “I’m so not.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Good.” She still looks worried, but she smiles. “You can’t fall in love so quickly, Ev. It’s dangerous, especially with these gorgeous ones. They change girls like socks.”

  I make a face. Micah doesn’t seem that kind of guy… Does he? I mean, he is gorgeous but…

  “Which is why you should go in with your eyes open,” she goes on, eyes bright. She really believes this stuff. “Have fun, but don’t be exclusive.”

  Not be… I blink. I realize with a jolt I don’t really know Cassie at all. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. The main thing is, is he good at sex?” Cassie asks, her face serious.

  I gape at her for a good five seconds. In the end I give in. “Yeah, he’s…” I wave a hand.

  “Big?”

  I can’t help it. I start laughing.

  “What? It’s an important question!”

  “Yeah, I guess he’s big. God, Cassie.” I wipe at my eyes. “Don’t tell me. You’ve checked Jesse’s package out already, haven’t you?”

  She shrugs, a glint in her eyes. “I won’t lie to you. It’s pretty much outstanding.”

  I laugh again. I can’t believe this discussion. “You blush like a little girl when you talk about Jesse, but have no trouble talking about his size. Isn’t there something wrong with this picture?”

  “Size, sex… These things are normal. It’s just that…” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Well, Jesse, he’s…”

  “He’s what?”

  She sighs. “I don’t know. Hard to read, I guess. Joking about, fucking all those girls…”

  I wince. “Uh-oh.”

  Cassie goes on, seemingly oblivious. “Every night he has a different girl, and I kinda know if I approached him he’d sleep with me, you know?”

  Do I? This all sounds so strange to me. If Micah slept with other girls… Just the thought makes my hands curl into firsts, even though I know realistically that he must have had girls before he met me. After all, he seems to know what he’s doing.

  “And normally I wouldn’t mind,” Cassie says.

  I struggle to follow. “You wouldn’t mind being a one-night stand for Jesse?”

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t mind.” Her voice has gone a little husky, and her eyes glitter. I can’t read the emotions in them. “But I can’t. Not with him. There’s something about him that won’t let me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he’s cracked, like a glass that looks whole, but if you press it too hard it will shatter,” she whispers, and a shudder runs through me.

  Because Micah also seemed ready to break this morning, and the things he said about his past are lurking in a corner of my mind, waiting for me to examine them. Darkness, pain, sorrow. It hurts to know he’s been through that, and yet I’m happy he trusted me enough to tell me.

  I want to see him again this afternoon. Tonight. I want to talk to Asher’s mom about working with homeless youth. I’ve checked the site of the National Runaway Switchboard online and I can start as a volunteer, then later take courses and work there. I want this. And I want to put Blake and the accident behind me.

  “I want to move out of my parents’ house,” I blurt out.

  “Whoa. Moving in with Micah already? Isn’t it too soon?”

  “No, not with Micah.” Although the thought sends a thrill through me… But he hasn’t asked, and it’s way, way too early to even think about something like that. “I just need to move out.”

  “I see. Looking to share an apartment? ’Cuz I may have something.”

  “You do?”

  “One of my friends is looking for someone to share her apartment with. She’s great. You’ll love her. She lives close by.”

  I smile. It’s a good sign, isn’t it, if luck is smiling my way. “Let me talk to my parents, and I’ll let you know.”

  ***

  My parents stare at me in disbelief when I break them the news.

  “You want to move out? For heaven’s sake, why?” my dad roars.

  Oh, crap, it’s going worse than I thought it would, and Joel is nowhere to be seen. I could use the support right now.

  “I need my space,” I say quietly. “I have—”

  “Why, so you can sleep around? Or to spend time with all the losers on the street and spend every penny until you become one of them?”

  “John,” Mom says. Even she sounds horrified at his words.

  Not more than me, though. My stomach hurts as if he’s punched me there. “Is that how you think of me?”

  “Come on, Evie.” He rolls his eyes and gives me a withering look. “If you don’t want people to think of you that way, then act responsible. Like the adult you pretend to be.”

  Ow.

  “Listen to your dad, Evie,” Mom chimes in. “He wants what’s best for you, and you’re not doing anything meaningful with your life.”

  “Oh, for chrissakes. I finished school. I got a job. I almost never go out. What are these ‘adult things’ you expect from me?” My voice cracks and all I want is to run out of the room and hide. There’s a lot of hurt inside me. No matter what I do, it will never be enough for my parents. “What else do you want?”

  “I want you to stay home where it’s safe for you,” Dad says, and tendons stand out in his throat. “To think seriously about what you want to do with your life and start doing it.”

  “I have thought seriously about what I want to do.” I’m leaning forward in my chair, every muscle taut. My jaw aches from the tension. “I want to work with homeless youth. There’s someone I’m going to talk to—”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Dad snaps, just as Mom mutters, “This isn’t going to end well.”

  “This is what I want! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “There’s lots wrong with that. Lots!” Dad gets up and looms over me. “This isn’t what your mom and I worked our asses off for, so you could have a nice house, and nice clothes, and a chance to go to college. You’re throwing away all our efforts, all these years lost—”

  “I’m not throwing anything away.” I inch back in my seat, but anger pushes down my fear. “I just want to do what makes me happy. I’m not going to feel guilty about that.”

  “You listen to me now, young lady…” Dad bends over me and jabs a finger at my chest. I flinch and fear returns. He’s a big man, and I’m tiny, like Mom. I’ve never been afraid of him before, but he’s so angry spit flies out of his mouth, and my blood runs cold.

  Dad won’t hit me, I tell myself. He never has. But when he grabs my arm, gripping me painfully tight, I can’t help but think that Blake also never hit me, and yet he’s held me like this, bruising me, forcing me to stay when all I want is to leave.

  “John, stop it,” Mom says, and I think I hear fear in her voice, as well.

  “Dad, let her go right now,” a male voice says.

  Dad jerks and releases me so that I fall back in the seat, my breath leaving my lungs.

  Joel is standing there, a hand gripping Dad’s arm. His blue eyes glitter with anger. “Don’t you tou
ch her again.”

  “You don’t get to order me around, Joey,” Dad mutters, but he walks away from me and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black pants. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

  “You already have,” Joel says and glances at me uncertainly.

  “I’m okay,” I say, my voice small, but the truth is, I’m not. Not because of the ache in my arm, but a deeper one.

  I can’t stay here a moment longer. But when I try to get up, my legs refuse to take my weight, and I sink back down.

  Joel holds out his hand. “Come on, Evie.”

  He helps me up, and I stand by his side. Dad is giving me his back, and Mom is staring at me with tears in her eyes as if I’m dying or something.

  “I’ll visit you,” I say, mostly because I can’t stand to see her so sad. “I’m not going far, Mom.”

  She says nothing.

  “She’ll be fine,” Joel says. And with that, he pulls me out of the room and into the cold night air.

  ***

  Joel doesn’t say much else that night. He drives me to his apartment, which he shares with his ever-absent friend Jethro, and throws some folded sheets on the couch.

  “You take my bed,” he says, “I’ll take the sofa.”

  He must be kidding me. I don’t even want to know what action his bed has seen since he moved out of our parent’s house three years ago. “I’ll be fine on the couch, Joey.” I see a new frown forming on his face and grab the sheets to forestall an argument. “Honest. Thanks for standing up for me and taking me in. I wanted…”

  He’s staring at me, and suddenly I don’t know what I want to say. The reality of it all hits me. I’ve left home. I’m on my own for the first time ever.

  “You can stay for a while,” Joel says. “Jethro won’t mind.”

  Since Jethro is never here, he probably won’t even notice. I clutch the sheets to my chest. I’ll have to return home at some point and grab my things—clothes, shoes, books, knickknacks.

  Oh my God, I’ve left home. I sink heavily on the sofa, my knees knocking together. Which is ridiculous. I’m nineteen, for chrissakes, not twelve. Others leave the nest much earlier.