Blackout (5 page)

Kami studies me before a grin spreads on her pink lips. “Don’t feel so guilty. Darius is a big boy. He can take care of himself. Other than the youngest Tucker, those boys are all trouble. Sam spent the last twelve months in jail for possession. He said he was set up, like anyone would believe that.”

I hadn’t realized he did drugs, but I haven’t seen him or his brother Jackson in years.

“At the rate Jackson’s going, he’s heading there himself. Two years before you left, Darius got caught with the mayor’s son Rex joyriding in Tate’s pride and joy.” She must be referring to the sheriff’s El Camino.

“Rex wrapped the car around a telephone pole, but he got off with a slap on the wrist while Darius went to juvenile detention.”

“Rex was always a troublemaker.” But not Darius. What happened to him? “Sam kicked me once when I back-talked him, so Dare whaled on him. Sam gave him a black eye.” Sam had called me a baby, so I called him a scaredy cat for running from that bigger, older boy he’d fought with earlier that day. That never stopped me from liking Sam. He’s seven years older than Darius, and Jackson is right in the middle between them. The youngest Randy is a year behind me.

“The Tucker boys—all hotter than an August day in the swamps and slippery and dangerous as water moccasins,” she says. “Darius is fine to look at, and he’s more exciting than a game between the Chargers and the Tigers.”

The Tigers is our rival team, and often our games ended in brawls. High school was fun sometimes and other times terrifying. Paris was different—no blackouts, no drama.

Kami rolls onto her stomach. “But Darius is trouble. Tate has picked him up a few times.”

“For what?” Randy and he kept their noses clean.

“Drunk and disorderly, fighting.” She shakes my arm. “And what about what he did to you?”

“He never touched me that day. I told you that.” He’s the one part I do remember. I tried to tell her that several times, but townies didn’t want to hear my version. They wanted to think the worst.

“You did black out, and the cops must’ve found something to send him to juvenile detention.”

“I don’t know what that could be.” Years ago, Judge Kirkland questioned me en camera while a court reporter recorded our conversation. Only the three of us sat in his chambers while he spoke with me. He had this nervous tick in his eye and whiny voice that annoyed me.

I never said anything about Dare, other than he found me. Had they discovered something else? Am I wrong about him? Look at Dare now.

While the sun beats down on me, I let the warm sand sift between my toes and watch the waves curl onto shore. It’s a perfect day—warm, a slight sea breeze, and a few cirrus clouds sweeping the sky. The ocean relaxes me. When the kids picked on me, I’d come here and cook in the sun and breathe in the salty air.

Instead of reading Mama’s book, I drift off to sleep, the sun soaking me with its powerful rays. My thoughts eventually melt into dreams or rather nightmares—the swamp still fresh in my mind. A gator snaps and swishes its tail before splashing into the water. Snakes, hundreds of them, fill a small pond. I fall in, and they surround me and sink their fangs into my arms and legs. I cry for help, then it all goes red.

I hate it when I know I’m dreaming and I can’t wake up.

A hand shakes me. “You were having a nightmare. It wasn’t a blackout. I swear.” She gives me a tight grin. I told her how to recognize them. I either completely pass-out or it’s like I’m in a stupor, sometimes mumbling with my eyes wide open.

“What were you dreaming about?” Kami asks, chewing on her bottom lip and crinkling her brow.

I hate talking about my nightmares. The shrinks spent years analyzing them. “The swamp. It’s not important.”

Kami lifts her shades, diverting her attention up the beach. “Three o’clock coming in.”

I swivel my head in that direction. A clean-cut man, no tats, jogs on the sand, sweat glistening off his perfectly shaped pecs. When did guys get so hot around here? I try not to gawk because he’s gorgeous. His sunglasses prevent me from seeing where his eyes are landing.

“That’s Graham,” Kami says in a low voice. “He got accepted into Duke’s medical school.”

As Graham runs by us, he stumbles and almost goes down. He recovers, and his face colors to a deep crimson. He’s even cuter.

Kami giggles. “He was checking us out.”

He lumbers over to us, towering above and threading back thick ash-blond hair. He peeks out of his shades to show off long lashes and golden eyes. My kind of guy, then Dare pops into my mind with his surly expression. It must be handsome Sam I’m thinking of.

“You caught me looking,” Graham says, plopping down on the sand beside us.

“Hi Kami, and you are?” His hot gaze slides over my skin, and it’s my turn to blush, the heat rising up my neck and sticking in my throat.

I resist tugging my towel over my hips to hide my body. Don’t be different I chastise myself.

Kami slugs me. “The girl whose tongue was stolen is Teal.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that she didn’t say my last name. No one else needs to know about Blackout Betty. BB was my nickname, and I was hoping to change that perception.

“I know Kami’s going to Duke. What about you?” His hand glides over my calf, strong and sure. He’ll make a good surgeon, like his dad, and those golden eyes singe my skin.

“Duke,” I say, not wanting to add more and end up playing twister with my tongue. “I’ll need a roommate.” I nudge Kami.

“That may work,” she says.

Graham licks his lips, and the good kind of chill races through me. “There’s a beach party Wednesday night just north of here for Duke students only. You are officially invited, and you will be my guests.” He crouches so that he’s at eye level with us.

It’s nice that he doesn’t leave either of us out. His family is really nice and used to be good friends with my parents. Mama ruined that, and I don’t know why I think that.

Kami grins like she’s won the lotto. Why wasn’t she already invited? That’s where her boyfriend goes.

She scoots her chair toward me. “Ryan has plans that night, so we should go. You game?” She shakes my arm up and down, probably sensing my hesitancy.

What if Dare shows up at the party? We don’t need to keep butting heads. He isn’t a college student, but would he show anyway? The kids that harassed me two years ago may be there too.

Graham presses his hand on my naked knee. At first it startles me, but his hand is warm and a little sweaty, and the sensation is tingling and sweet. Maybe if I give Graham a chance he could work his way into my heart.

“It sounds like fun,” I say.

“Good.” He stands up and says, “See you lovely ladies later.”

His gaze drags along my body, and my toes curl. His interested stare almost causes me to cover my hand over my chest. I stop myself because I’d like to date a guy with ambition, and I need a makeover, less modesty and no blackouts. I’ll find a therapist here to stop the latter.

Graham runs down the beach. Both Kami and I watch his tight butt and muscular legs.

“Nice buns,” she says. “From what I hear, his girlfriend and he had a huge blowout, and from the way he was looking at you, he’s trolling for lady fish.”

“He would be a nice distraction.”

I check her phone. We’ve been out here for almost two hours. “I’m going inside for something to eat. Want anything?”

“No thanks.” Kami throws her tank top at me. “There are some new beach shops we can check out after you eat. You can buy a bikini, so you don’t embarrass me.” She gathers her things, and I do the same.

“I like my one piece.” Less modesty, I remind myself.

She turns up her nose. “I’ll see you in a half hour.”

“Okay,” I say, giving into the part of me that wants to be bolder.

Kami nods and plods up to her house, carrying her beach chair and bag.

Inside the house, Lulu has only moved to microwave popcorn and bring herself a bowl to munch on.

“Is it okay if I go to the store?” I ask, grabbing a few carrots from the fridge.

“Sweetie, if I need something, I’ll ask. Go have fun.”

I toss the beach bag aside, and the book tumbles out and falls open. I read the opening of part One—“The Lovers of Roissy.” The chapter title catches my attention.

I read a few paragraphs and then read a few more, my body tingling from the exploitation of the woman. In the taxi, the man in the story tells O to take off her panties and sit on the cold, vinyl seat. She enjoys the sensation. The more I explore the pages the hotter my chest flames and my cheeks burn, yet I cannot put it down.

I force myself to stop and flip back to the front of the book to see when it was written—1954. On the inside jacket, fancy cursive is inscribed inside the cover, and it’s in French.
To my amour L, I will cherish all those hot Parisian nights, François.

“What do you think the inscription in Mama’s book means?” I ask Kami as she drives us to the store in the early afternoon.

Kami grins and taps the steering wheel to the beat of Jason Derulo’s
Talk Dirty to Me
. “That she had a hot lover in France before your dad. Why would that surprise you? She was a beautiful woman.”

“Is a beautiful woman,” I correct Kami.

I’ve never thought about the life she led before Daddy. Supposedly while she lived in France, she met Daddy, fell in love, and married him. At one time, he spoke of that first encounter—their short courtship, the romantic nights touring Paris. He truly loved her. Those feelings disappeared when she left, and indifference replaced the love he once felt.

“You haven’t heard from your mother in years. Why would she just pick up and leave and never call you or her mother? That never made sense to me.”

“Lots of parents abandon their families. Daddy said she went back to Paris to paint. That she no longer wanted to be tied down. Maybe she met up with Francois.” I don’t really care. I didn’t when it happened ten years ago. The shrinks thought my lack of emotion for her was related to my damaged brain.

She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. A strange niggling works into my heart. Should I miss her? Is there something wrong with me because I don’t?

“Maybe your dad murdered her when she threatened to leave him and dumped her body in the swamp.” She adds a maniacal laugh.

A shiver cramps my sandaled toes. Unlike other parents I’ve seen in the Carolinas, Daddy never laid a hand on her. “No body was found, and they questioned Daddy and Lulu for days and the entire town. She’s gone, not dead, and she’s never coming back. Give it a rest.”

“I was just joking.” She pulls into a shopping center consisting of an ice cream shop, a clothier, and a gift store. “A scoop of Moose Tracks ice cream sounds awesome.”

“It does,” I say, glancing over the parking lot. My heart skips a beat when I see the black Shelby.

Probably to avoid door dings, it’s parked away from the other cars and underneath colorful tunnel kites on display and waving in the breeze. I scan the area to see if Dare’s around or which store he’s in, but I don’t see him.

“He’s here,” I say just above a whisper. “We should go.”

She looks over her shoulder at the mustang. “That’s Darius’s car all right. He’s probably not buying a bikini, so come on.”

I should avoid him. That’s what my dad wants, but my mind thinks otherwise. It works over the rough edges of Dare Tucker. He’s not a boy but a man and resembles his older brother Sam now. I should steer clear of him I remind myself. Our friendship disappeared on that day in the swamp. But if I knew what Dare knows, maybe that would help my condition.

I sling my bag over one shoulder. “Hope the credit card still works.” Hope she’s right about Dare. He doesn’t have any sisters to buy for, and his mom passed away when Dare was ten.

“I can float you a loan.”

“Thanks.” I don’t like to borrow, but I know I can pay her back.

The small shop is filled with sundries and at least a hundred bikinis to choose from. Some are tacked on the walls while mannequins are dressed in others. The thought of wearing one of the skimpier two-pieces on the beach colors my cheeks.

The lady running the shop says, “Hello ladies, if you need something, please let me know.” She inventories a rack of cover-ups with a tablet and stylus.

I pick up a purple and hot pink tankini. “What about this one?”

“That’s awful.” Kami picks out a thong and shoves it in my face.

I couldn’t possibly where one that skimpy, so I find a regular bikini. “Will this do?”

“You have terrible taste.” She flips through the rack and picks out a Brazilian cut two-piece.

Even though I let out an I-give-in sigh, I miss shopping with Kami and boogey boarding in the surf, throwing Frisbee, and watching cute boys stroll by.

Kami grins. “My taste is better. This bikini will barely cover you. More tan, less white.”

Her enthusiasm is catching, helping me let my guard down. It’ll be a different story when I put it on at home. “You’ve been trying to change me since you first met me,” I joke.

“There’s always room for improvement.”

I grin. “I thought I was perfect?”

“When your skin turns a golden brown to match that copper hair,” she shoots back. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thank you.” I gloss over her natural beauty, long legs, and short shorts. “I wish I had your legs.”

She throws another two swimsuits onto my arms. “You are beautiful.”

I scan the store for more suits. In the back near the dressing rooms, Dare watches me, a grimace curling his sensual lips. My stomach somersaults. What’s he doing here? After the first restraining order, I never saw him. It’s a small area. I can’t imagine how hard it was for him to avoid me. He’s not trying at all now, but currently, no order is in affect.

He leans against tiered shelves of clothes. His arms are folded across his chest. I don’t tear my gaze away but glare right back. A crooked grin coils around his mouth. My body heats ups, responding to him staring.

Kami whispers, “Are you having the big ‘O’? You are, aren’t you?” She smacks my arm.

I do my best to squash embarrassment from scorching my face. “No. I’ve never had one.” I wouldn’t recognize one if it shot me between my thighs.