Destroy Me (Crystal Gulf Book 1)

DESTROY ME

CRYSTAL GULF BOOK 1

Shana Vanterpool

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2015 by Shana Vanterpool

DESTROY ME by Shana Vanterpool

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Published by Swoon Romance

Cover design by Hunter Blue

Cover copyright © 2015 by Swoon Romance

For those who fear stepping beyond what they’ve been given and risking wanting more, and to those people who love us even when we’re lost.

To my Mom, because every word I write is better because of her.

And apple pie lovers, never be ashamed to want what makes you happy.

DESTROY ME

“In that moment, where Bach’s crying out my name and I’m coming apart in his arms, I fall completely, disastrously, in love.”

-Harley Evans

Chapter One

Bach

“Dude. You’re what?”

I kick the empty beer bottles off the coffee table to make room and prop my feet up on it, pausing to stare at him.
Did I hear him right?
My jaw drops in shock. It usually takes a lot to shock me. I’ve done, heard, and witnessed too many things in my life to be impressed by the little stuff. But I’m fucking shocked.

Dylan leans back on the couch, sighs heavily, and then moves to run a hand through his hair out of habit. Except his hair isn’t there anymore. He hacked it off a few weeks ago. I inquired about it then, but only out of curiosity. He skirted around the question, the same way he’s been skirting around me for the past year. And since I hadn’t cared anyway, I’d let his choice of haircut pass without further attention. What Dylan did with his hair wasn’t going to keep me up at night. There were enough things out there worth my attention that were far more interesting.

Women were the most interesting, and on most nights the only thing I spent my time focusing on. Alcohol was a close second. I took Justine home last night again. But it didn’t have to be Justine I took home with me at night, tonight, any night; we didn’t even have to make it home. It could be any woman. As long as they were willing so was I. I brought Justine back because the girl I wanted ended up drinking too many watermelon Jell-O shots and fell into some other asshole’s lap. We’re all assholes. I know it. So should everyone else. It makes doing the things we want to do a hell of a lot easier when you know you’re an asshole while you’re doing it. It’s the liars that can’t look themselves in the eye.

My eyes are gorgeous. It would be a shame if I couldn’t look in to them.

Dylan and I used to be assholes together. Had been ever since we were kids. Then last summer he got thrown in jail for a DUI, and now he’s a “changed man.” We went from destroying Crystal Gulf to Dylan cleaning it up. He volunteers to clean up the beach on the weekends when he’s not walking old ladies across the street and pretending his past never happened. That’s where he met his girlfriend. Another drastic “change.” I’ve seen Dylan do things to multiple girls at one time that even I wouldn’t do. Now he has one girl. One!

“Bullshit,” I say. “What the fuck do you mean you’re going to Afghanistan?”

“I enlisted last summer. After I got out of jail.” I stare dumbly at him. “Before I met Harley,” he added, probably hoping that would make more sense.

It doesn’t. “Does she know?” I ask, playing it cool.
Does your perfect girlfriend know you’re not perfect after all?

He doesn’t answer. It’s as good as saying yes in my book. Having nothing to say is worse than saying something offensive. At least that’s what I tell myself when I have something messed up to say. I have to say it, or I might explode. The female population of Crystal Gulf wouldn’t know what to do with their selves if I, Bach Bachmen, exploded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you enlisted in the army? Don’t you think that’s something you should tell your best bro? We live together,” I continue. I hate being lied to. I lie all the time, so I know how much of a shithead you have to be to do it. “How long are you going to be gone? Who’s going to pay the other half of the rent? I can’t pay it all on my own. You’re a real dick sometimes. What gives you the right—?”

I knock his fist away before it can reach my face. Laughing, I throw my own jab, knowing Dylan’s not quick enough to escape it. No one is. I learned how to fight the hard way. The sound of my fist on his jaw gives me extreme satisfaction, and I need some damn satisfaction after hearing this news. I was expecting him to say he cheated on Harley and needed some advice. Who better to ask for advice than me? Or he had a strange rash on his balls he needed me to look at. We’ve all been there. Strange rashes come with the territory when your dates guzzle down watermelon Jell-O shots like water. In fact, I should check my own balls. Watermelon Jell-O shots have been happening a lot lately.

“I had to!” Dylan growls, rubbing his jaw. “What do you want me to do? Stay here with you forever? Screwing a different girl every night and drinking like a fish? Where are you going in life that I want to come, Bach?”

Ouch. I don’t want to sound like a chick, but I know I’m going to. I can feel it coming. “We used to be going there together!” I screech, channeling my ex. She has a thing for theatrics. Throwing shit, biting. I didn’t mind the biting part, but my walls still have holes. “You said you’d do anything if I asked. How could you lie to me?”

Dylan shakes his head. “Answer me, Bach. Stop screwing around. Where are you going in life? You’re going to end up in jail too if you keep this shit up. And it won’t be for a DUI. It’ll be for something messed up, like an underage girl messed up.”

I don’t entertain his underage girl fantasy. I screw women. If they can’t buy their own drink, I’m not buying them one. I’m not stupid. In fact, I’m highly aware of my intelligence. “I don’t know where I’m going. But I do know when I get there they better have a fucking bar.”

“Cut the shit, Bach. You’re so full of it I can’t take it anymore. Harley’s right, you’re not good for me. Look at this place. Is that weed in the fish tank? Weed! And what happened to my fish?”

I scratch my junk and yawn. “Ask Jona.” I knew his girlfriend was bad news. She’s probably been whispering spoilers in his ear like someone who’s already seen a movie you can’t wait to watch. I’ve only met her a couple times because Dylan keeps her away from me. He’s probably worried she’ll find out who he really is. Dylan used to make me look good. Now I make him look bad? The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“I’m leaving in a week. I’ll find you a new roommate. Seriously, Bach. Get your shit together. I know you’ve been dealt some pretty shitty hands, we both have, but it’s time to play with what we got.”

“You read that on your girlfriend’s bumper sticker?”

“Screw it!” He walks past me, knocking his shoulder into mine on his way by. “I’m going to Harley’s.”

“Let’s go out later when she leaves you. It’s been a while since we got shitfaced together.”

He pauses with his hand on the door. When he turns around I don’t know who the hell this guy is anymore. “You don’t get it do you, Bach? This isn’t a game. The choices you make can either give you a future or take it. Right now your future’s fading away.”

“Is that a yes on going out? Let me know now. Jona’s having a party later and I promised I’d host it.”

I grin at the door when he slams it behind him. In the past year, he’s gone from pouring drinks down my throat to taking the bottle away. I want to know what happened. Either his girlfriend changed him, which I think is bullshit, or something else has crawled up his ass. Men don’t change. Women say it all the time. It’s their personal mantra.
You’re never going to change, Bach.

“Bach?”

I turn around. Justine’s leaning against the wall wearing my black shirt. It barely covers her hips. “Go back to bed.”

“Is he really in the army?” she asks.

Of course she was listening. Girls like Justine always listen. “Apparently. And stop listening in on my conversations. If I wanted you to hear it I would’ve woken your ass up.”

She rolls her sexy brown eyes. Justine knows she’s hot, so I let her think her body can control me, because it’s fun as hell when she tries.

“Well is he?”

“I guess,” I answer. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” She shrugs. “It’s just that I know you two are like brothers. I figured you’d be upset. But I forgot. Bach Bachmen is an emotionless a-hole. Huh?” She beams at me, knowing she’s asking for it.

I don’t bite. Instead I go into the kitchen and yank open the fridge, sticking my head in. I need a drink. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“No,” she purrs, pressing against me from behind. “Let’s be emotionless, Bach. I need the personal contact.”

I smirk and rise, wrapping my arms around her, my desire for a drink momentarily forgotten. “You’re needy. Last night wasn’t enough?”