Bad Wolf Read online

  Keep the bullies at bay.

  If the boy is alone, bonus points. It means he won’t show off to his buddies by picking on you, won’t gang up on you.

  This boy seemed perfect. Though not new to the school, he was a loner, and living in my neighborhood. We took the same bus, got off at the same stop.

  He wasn’t bad looking, either.

  Okay, so he was frigging hot. Which made it all the weirder that he never had any following as he hoofed it home from the bus.

  Well, except for me. I was his most loyal follower.

  I took notice of everything about him—how he limped sometimes, how his eyes tracked everything, how his lip curled when someone stood in his way.

  Just… hot.

  And now he flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking—well, the joint, I can smell weed as well as the next person—and turned to look at me.

  I froze and did my best not to show it, barely slowing down. I smiled instead.

  His expression did something weird. It stilled, though his eyes seemed to darken. He stumbled a little, almost coming to a stop.

  Taking advantage, moving before I thought about it too hard, I crossed the street and joined him.

  “Hi,” I said, “I’m Gigi. What’s your name?”

  He kept walking and didn’t say anything for a long while, not until we were almost at my house, his hooded eyes flicking sideways at me all the way.

  And right before I skipped away to a promise of warm lunch and an afternoon listening to music and doodling, he said, in his deep, rough voice, “Jarett.”

  I think I’d fallen for him already, from a distance, but that one word, his name, sealed it. I didn’t know it then, but this was the boy who would one day break my heart.

  The club is so full we push through people as Sydney pulls me after her in an unknown direction.

  “Syd, stop.” What’s going on tonight? Why does everyone think they can drag me around like a rag doll, like I don’t have a say in any of it? “Jesus, stop. What’s the matter with you?”

  We stop near the bar, and she turns to face me, her face a mask of guilt. “Sorry, I…”

  But my mind is not on her right now. I turn in a circle, trying to see above the heads of the people, but even in my stilettos I’m not that tall. “Dammit.”

  “What is it?”

  “That guy I was with. Can you see him?”

  That’d be a long shot. Goes to show how out of my wits I am right now. Sydney is much shorter than me, high heels or not.

  I start back the way we came. “I need to find him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” And I halt.

  Because he looks like Jarett. The first boy who ever got my attention. My full attention. And never returned it.

  But that’s not what the other guy called him. He called him Fen.

  Was I mistaken?

  “Gigi?”

  “Never mind.” I rub my hands up and down my bare arms, shivering despite the heat inside the club.

  It has to be Jarett. Maybe Fen is a nickname. Jarett’s brother’s name was Seb. Sebastian. The coincidence is too much.

  And it shouldn’t matter to me. Just because he pulled his brother off me and took me out to the alley to get fresh air, that doesn’t mean anything.

  “You think I want you?” So amused.

  I bet in his eyes I’m still the silly girl who ran so desperately behind him years ago and blabbered on about every stupid thing going through her mind.

  Still I’d have loved to talk to him, ask him how he’s been. The urge to go looking for him, to take his hand, is a physical need, an ache in my chest.

  To know if it is really him.

  Instead, I turn back to Sydney. “Talk. What’s going on?”

  She lifts her hands, eyes wide. “Look, I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. I got stressed, you know? Later I went looking for you but couldn’t find you. Where were you?”

  Her lie leaves a sharp bitterness behind. I can taste it on my tongue, like a crushed pill. “You sure that was why you abandoned me there?”

  “I didn’t abandon—”

  “Yes, you did.” I hate that we have to shout to be heard over the music. “Syd, I saw you in that back alley.”

  She pales. Even in the bluish flashing lights, I can tell. “No.”

  “Those were drugs, Syd. Were you buying? Are you using?”

  “No, you don’t understand. It’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it like?”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t tell you right now.”

  “Why not?” But maybe she doesn’t want to shout it all out, even though nobody’s paying us any attention. “Listen, we can go home and talk. You can stay over. I’ll make us hot chocolate—”

  “I can’t tell you, Gigi.” She won’t look at me. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

  “What does that even mean? You were getting drugs for who, one of your boys?”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “Come on, Syd…”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll take you home.” Her voice cracks, and I don’t know what to do with that.

  I can’t stop thinking about the guy that may or may not be Jarett, and about seeing Syd in the alley with the drug dealer, and when did this evening turn into something out of Black Mirror? It’s like an alternate reality.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” I hear myself reply, my voice distant in my ears. “I’m done with partying tonight anyway.”

  Predictably, two hours later I’m lying in bed, covers up to my chest, unable to sleep, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling. I have my headphones on, plugged to my cell phone. “Born to be Wild” by Steppenwolf is playing.

  I can’t stop rewinding the events of tonight in my mind, over and over, in dizzying loops. Faces, voices, words spoken. Sensations.

  Sebastian’s bruising hold on my wrist.

  Jarett’s deep voice in my ear, his spicy smell.

  Syd buying drugs in the darkness.

  Jesus. I’m in shock, okay? Syd and me, we’ve never kept secrets from each other before. Right? Ever. At least I never have. Well, except for that one thing only Merc knows, but that doesn’t count. That’s old news.

  And this… this is big. This is awful. I’m scared for her.

  Maybe it’s these boys she’s circling around. Maybe they aren’t good for her. This isn’t good for her. Are they pushing her to try drugs? If the drugs are for one of them, why is she the one in the back alley, buying?

  How long has this been going on?

  My attempts to get her to talk to me during the ride home were met with silence. And she didn’t even ask me anything else about Rett. Like, why I was talking to this random guy. Who he is. Why I was upset she dragged me away.

  Nada.

  This isn’t good, not at all.

  I twist and punch my pillow before lying back down. I’ve always felt safe at home, my brother Merc sleeping on the other side of the wall, and Mom two doors down. My sister’s kids—well, my brother-in-law’s kids really, from his late wife—are not staying with us tonight. My older sis, Octavia, is still pregnant. Hugely pregnant. I can’t wait to meet the new baby.

  Yeah, I’ve always felt good here, like the world could never invade this bubble of warmth and love.

  Tonight the bubble is too thin, though, its glass walls showing cracks. Sydney has been my family, too, since we moved here to St. Louis from Destiny. And if she’s in trouble, then this isn’t safe, this little world I’ve constructed. The spell is broken, the illusion gone, and it all reverts into the house of cards it’s been all along.

  I fight a bone-deep shiver. Wiggle my bare toes under the covers. Nod my head to the music.

  No, everything will be okay. This is just a passing tremor, a tiny earthquake. My little world is strong, it will wither this small shake. Here it is safe, and what was in the past, is in the past. No more bullies.

  No more being afraid to
walk in the street.

  And Sydney will talk to me. We’ll figure this out. I’ll get her counseling, if needed. Will make sure she doesn’t go looking for chemical relief again, for herself or her friends. It’s dangerous. Jarett made it clear by the way he hauled me away.

  Rett. That’s what I used to call him.

  It has to be him. No boy ever sparkled so darkly in my eyes quite like Jarett… no other boy ever meant anything to me.

  Why didn’t I recognize him right away? How could I not see who he was from the moment he appeared, when I’ve been thinking so much about him all this time? Replaying in my mind the things I told him, his brooding profile, his limp that got worse when the weather turned cold and that he refused to talk about, his dark outline behind his attic bedroom window.

  His sudden, rare smiles that turned my heart inside out.

  But I guess the different name threw me off. That, and Sydney’s weird behavior.

  Okay, so it’s more than that. He changed, I think. There’s something profoundly different about him, and it’s not the way he looks. His hair is shorter, sure, his shoulders broader. I think he even grew a few inches taller.

  His eyes are the same, though. His mouth. But his expression was harder when he looked at me. His smile sharper. His eyes darker.

  I frown, rising up on my elbows, the song coming to an end. I hit stop on my phone playlist and frown harder.

  He lied for me.

  He told his brother my boyfriend was looking for me. He came to rescue me. What would his brother have done to me? What a screwed-up brotherly relationship is that? It was like… like he’s used to stopping his brother from doing something awful, smoothing his ruffled feathers and nudging him back into line.

  What was it he’d said to him?

  “Plenty of chicks around. Take your pick.”

  Yikes.

  God.

  Also, it finally strikes me as I lie back down, hitting play on “The Boys are Back in Town” by Thin Lizzy, this is the first time ever that I’ve heard him string so many words together. Back when I knew him, he almost never talked.

  What else about him has changed? I wonder…

  Chapter Four

  Jarett

  The girl in my bed rolls over and yawns, stretching her thin arms over her head. The covers fall down, revealing her tits and nipples.

  Annoyed, I look away and lean out of the window, sucking on my cigarette and blowing smoke out into the chilly morning air.

  “Morning,” she calls out from behind me, way too chipper for my darkening mood. “Got any coffee?”

  “Ran out,” I say flatly.

  “Can I bum a smoke off you?” She wanders up beside me, naked. I wonder if the neighbors across the street get an eyeful. Should I care?

  Nah, I don’t give a damn.

  “Here.” I pass her the smokes and the lighter. “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  I give her a clinical look as she lights up. She’s too skinny. She also looks a bit like Gigi, I think randomly, and cringe.

  Ah fuck. That’s not why I picked her last night… is it? Jesus Christ. That’s an asshole move, Rett, and you know it. Even if I didn’t end up fucking her.

  And especially since I can’t fucking remember her name. Why did I bring her home? What was I thinking?

  Nothing coherent, probably. I was drunk off my ass. Happens a lot lately. I like how it knocks me out afterward. Blackout. No dreams that I can recall.

  She blows out smoke and looks at me from kohl-smudged eyes. They’re blue, but much paler than Gigi’s.

  And that should be a relief, that she isn’t so similar from closer up, but it only serves to annoy me more. Fuck, what’s wrong with me?

  “So, hot stuff.” She smirks at me. “Won’t you offer me breakfast?”

  “Fridge is empty.”

  Her face scrunches up. “That sucks. Hey, did we fuck last night?”

  “No.”

  “But I’m naked.”

  “You insisted on taking off your clothes. Feel free to put them back on.”

  “Whatever.” She snorts and tucks one arm under her tits. “How about a round two?”

  God, can’t she take a hint? “I said, we didn’t fuck last night, and I got to be somewhere. Finish your smoke and get out.”

  She lifts her penciled brows. “Seriously? You’re kicking me out?”

  She’s the first chick I’ve brought home in months, and now I’m starting to think it was a huge fucking mistake.

  “Yes,” I tell her calmly. “Get lost.”

  “Wow, you’re a jerk.”

  I shrug. Not gonna argue about that. “Don’t forget your purse. Not gonna come after you to return it.”

  She throws the cigarette out of the window, glares daggers at me and stomps back to the bed, hunting for her clothes. “Well, aren’t you a piece of work? I should’ve listened to the rumors.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, turning away from her bared ass and putting out my burned-out cig in the ashtray I’ve got there. Grabbing the lighter she left on the windowsill, I light up a new smoke. “You should have listened.”

  “Joanna told me you like to pounce on girls and take them home for a quick fuck and a kick in the butt.”

  I raise my brows. Apart from the fact we didn’t fuck… who the hell is Joanna anyway?

  “That you like fucking them against the wall in the back of bars and clubs, like an animal.” She’s on a roll. She kicks at the bed, and I wince on her behalf. “You are an animal, Rett.”

  Sure.

  And she came with me hoping to experience the thrill?

  “Your purse,” I remind her. “And your phone. I’m not opening the door if you come later looking for them.”

  “Asshole.”

  Yeah, yeah. I know. “Close the door on your way out,” I mutter.

  God, I need a drink. It’s too early, but fuck that—only I’m not sure I got anything left over here at home. Damn.

  I stare out at the waking city and lick the bitterness of tobacco off my lips.

  Good thing I have a shift at the bar later today. Suzie and David, the other bartenders, won’t mind me having a few shots behind the bar.

  Yeah, I drink a lot these days.

  And since last night, I can’t stop thinking about Gigi. About seeing her, talking to her, about her face, her curves, her voice. Can’t stop imagining her.

  How she’d sound, moaning my name.

  How she’d look, pinned underneath me.

  On her knees, in front of me.

  Naked.

  Writhing.

  Coming on my dick. Jesus. Just thinking about her, I’m getting hard so fast I’m dizzy, and the girl I brought home last night still hasn’t left the room.

  I wanted Gigi three years ago, and I want her now.

  More than ever.

  Three years ago, I’d jack off to fantasies of her, in her short skirt and knee-high socks and wide mouth. But fucking her was an impossibility. She wasn’t my girl, and I wasn’t even sure why she hung around me. I was a mess. For a while there I thought she wanted Sebastian.

  But she kept talking to me. Touching me. Driving me insane with need.

  Now it’s worse. Now it’s out of the question. Too dangerous for her.

  And it’s all I can think about. Not my brother’s safety, nor Mom’s health. Not the rent, or the drugs Sebastian takes.

  Gigi.

  She appeared out of nowhere once more, taking over my thoughts, a bright spark in the dark. That first time, she vanished just as my world imploded, and that crushed me just as much as everything else that happened back then.

  Can’t let her do that again.

  Somewhere in the apartment, the front door slams closed. I don’t turn around to see if the girl’s gone. If she took all her goddamn things with her.

  If she picked the apartment clean before leaving.

  I don’t give a fuck.

  Cursing, I push down on my hard-on th
at’s tenting my briefs and head to the bathroom to shower and throw some clothes on.

  I just need to fucking stop thinking about Gigi. Chances are, I won’t see her again, anyway.

  If I’m lucky.

  It’s late, after I finish work at the bar, and I take out the key to open the front door of the building when Sebastian walks out of the shadows and flicks away his cigarette.

  “What a bust,” he mutters.

  Willing my racing heart to slow down, I unlock the door, trying to keep my cool. “What happened?” I enter, tensing as he steps in right behind me. “Girlfriend kicked you out?”

  “Fuck you, Fen. And don’t change the topic.”

  Passing the bag to my other hand, I press the button for the elevator. “What topic was that?”

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” He shoves me aside when the elevator arrives and steps inside first. “The deal that fell through the other night, are you dense? I needed that fucking money.”

  My jaw is clenched so tightly my teeth grind together. “What for?”

  “What do you need money for, dickhead?” He punches me in the shoulder, and the force of it sends me into the mirrored wall, my bad knee twinging. “To buy stuff. What did you think?”

  “Cool it, Seb.” He’s high, I tell myself, holding my own fists back with difficulty. Don’t punch his motherfucking lights out yet. “You got money, dude. You got paid two weeks ago for that deal you helped with. What did you do with that, spend it all on drugs already?”

  “None of your business. That wasn’t enough dough.”

  “What the hell do you need it for?”

  “You’re such a fucking idiot,” he mutters as the doors open, and walks out. “Girls, bro. Cars. Good clothes, not these…” He tugs at the lapels of his leather jacket with a sneer. “These cheap pieces of shit. This hellhole of a place. The junk I’m driving.”

  “How about a job instead, huh? A real life? You ever thought about that?”