Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series) (13 page)

“Tate and Asshat One and Two will be there. No party. Just a chilled out night.” he said with a smile.

“Dude, that sounds as good as taking a hammer to my cock.” I laughed.

Tate and I hadn’t been the same since our argument, and the twins, as funny as they are, can drive me fucking crazy. I've known the guys since fifth grade, expect Ace, all of them as crazy then as they are now. Tate was the quiet one, he kept mostly to himself, but he was my best friend. Zane and Colt? Jesus, they caused trouble anywhere they went. They were identical twins, and when I say identical, I really mean it. Most people can’t tell them apart, much to their own amusement. And Ace? He was the tall, bulky one who would scare most of the other kids, sometimes even the teachers.

“Look, I have kept my mouth shut for most of this, man. I know what she means to you, Logan. I may take a couple of blows to the head every week, but I’m not fucking blind. I get it. You walked away from the woman you love, and now you don’t know which way is up. Trust me, I get it more than you know. I know why you did it, but you need to live too. You need to heal just as much as she does. Life isn’t all farting puppies and rainbows, it’s hard. But it will be even harder if you don’t suck it up. You will help her more if you are strong.”

And… I’m speechless.

Ace’s eyes are hard and fixed on mine, but I could see emotion lying in them. He gets it. The words he had spoken rang truth to my ears. I need to suck it up, I’m not going to do her any good by moping around like some lost puppy. There was no denying that I missed her, damn, I miss her so much. But Ace was right, I needed to be strong for her.

“Thanks, man,” I said, slapping Ace on his shoulder.

“Ouch.” He laughed, mocking me as he rubbed the shoulder I hit. “You, me and the guys. My place. 8pm.”

He watched as I tried to convince myself that I should go. Neva’s words suddenly flashed through my mind.

‘I need to keep you safe, from me.’

I needed to let her heal.

“8pm.” I smiled.

“Good.” He laughed, turning and walking away. “You still hit like a bitch, White!”

I laughed as I walked into the building, making my way up to my dorm room. These past couple of months have been damn heavy. I had been so focused on trying to help Neva heal, I hadn’t focused on me. I was lost. I had been in love with my best friend’s sister for ten years, a woman who deserved to be treated like a queen, but had been treated like glass. She was fragile, but strong. Quiet, but loud. Broken, but she is fixable. She is the woman who tore my heart out, but is the one who holds it in her hands. I love her, and it’s about damn time I showed her just how damn much.

Chapter Fourteen

Neva

            
 
My head hurt. I could feel the low throb as I pried open my eyes. Light suddenly blinded me, and I instinctively closed my eyes again. I moved my hand to my head, moving the hair stuck to my face. I could feel a hard surface against my back, it was cold. Moving my palm, I reached down and felt the cold, smooth tile beneath me. Okay, I was on the floor. Opening my eyes again, I squinted as the light above me shined so bright against my delicate vision.

             
I looked around me, and clearly I was in my bathroom. I must have passed out after I threw up so much. Then I remembered the letter. Slowly, I pulled myself up to my feet, using the sink for support. Once I finally regained my balance, I made my way to my bed. At first, the letter was nowhere to be seen. Then, thankfully, I spotted it on the floor, its edge poking out from underneath my bed. Still feeling groggy, I sat down on the bed and found the envelope. I couldn’t read the letter again, it’s too painful.

             
Angel had clearly gone through hell, his father chipping away at him. Little by little, his dad broke him, completely tore him apart.

             
I gently picked up the envelope sitting in the middle of my bed, noticing a small note tucked away inside. I gasped. I didn’t know if I could read anything else about that man, I didn’t know if I could read the clear torture he was put through to get to me. Instead of putting the letter back into the envelope, I pulled out the smaller note instead.

            
 
You’re probably wondering why I left you Betty Black.

             
I can’t tell you how many times I longed to hear you sing again, to hear you play again. Your voice is soft and pure, but filled with pain and hurt. It’s beautiful and you should use it.

             
I’m giving you Betty Black because you deserve a guitar that understands you. Betty has been through some rough times with me, she has sat quietly on my lap while I played the cords until my fingers bled. She understands pain, she understands hurt, she understands betrayal.

             
I can’t apologize enough for what I did, and I just hope, maybe someday, I will hear you play and sing once again. Play her like she's your own, because now she is.

             
I love you.

             
Angel.

            
 
At some point while I was reading, my hand had covered my mouth. Angel had given me Betty Black, the guitar that was given to him by his mom when he was just a child. I couldn’t understand why he gave it to me, he loved that guitar.

             
Suddenly my phone chimed, alerting me to a text. I wiped my eyes quickly, and walked over to my dresser. Picking up my phone, I slid my finger across the screen to reveal a text from Low.

             
I miss you, coffee? x

             
Something was wrong. Low is the happy one, the one who's always positive. This was not a positive Low. Something was going on and I had been so wrapped up within my own shit I hadn't even noticed. I'm such a shitty friend.

I needed to find out what the hell was going on with my best friend. Grabbing my leather jacket, I slipped on my Chucks and head out the door. The coffee shop wasn’t far from campus or my mom’s house. It takes twenty minutes to walk there, but after ten, my hands had already started shaking. What if she brings up Angel? Or worse, Logan. I didn’t think I could talk about it yet. Dr. Marsh had been trying to get it out of me a couple times now, but I'm just not ready.

              Rounding the corner, I spotted the coffee shop. It’s the same one I met Angel at all those months ago. Visions of us sitting outside under the sun sharing a heated kiss flashed before my eyes; I could feel the tears building. No, I couldn’t think about it, couldn’t think about him. Taking a deep breath, I made my way inside.

             
It’s just like it was when I was here last, small and beautiful. The smell of coffee filled my lungs and I almost wretched. He tasted like coffee. I quickly threw my hand over my mouth, trying to stop the bile from rising. I tried to suck air into my lungs but I kept smelling coffee. I needed to get out of here.

             
“Neva?” Low’s soft voice penetrated my anxiety.

             
Turning to her, I watched as her eyes widen. I could see the shock register on her face as I tried to hold down the bile that was quickly rising to the surface. If I didn’t get out of here now, I would throw up on the damn floor.

             
“Air. I need air,” I said, my hand muffling my words.

             
Low quickly sprang into action and threw her arm around my waist, guiding me out of the coffee shop and to the middle of the sidewalk. Air. I sucked it in hard, trying to fill my lungs with as much as they could take. A tear escaped from my eye as I pulled in every breath. Jesus, it felt good to breathe.

             
“Jesus. Are you okay?” Low asked as I bend over, placing my hands on my knees.

             
My head was all over the place. Flashes of Angel’s eyes penetrated my mind, tearing through my soul and breaking my heart more. He had fucking tricked me, and now I couldn’t walk into a damn coffee shop without thinking of him. Then I remembered the broken expression on his face as his father all but suffocated him. Everything was so damn fucked up. The words from his letter gutted me, but the betrayal sliced me right open.

             
“I … I’m fine,” I said with a shaky breath.

             
Standing upright, I looked Low in the eyes. She was looking at me like I had a damn disease she could catch any moment. Jesus, did everyone look at me like this? I was finally starting to see just how much I was treated like porcelain: fragile and weak. And I was sick of it.

             
“Low, stop looking at me like I'm about to fucking fall apart. I am fine,” I said with determination.

             
She put her hands up in surrender, clearly confused. I knew something like this would happen. I was here to find out what the hell was wrong with her, and now she was studying me and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. Placing my hands on my hips, I smiled. It didn’t quite reach my eyes, but it'd have to do. I needed my game face on for this.

             
“Can we go somewhere that doesn’t make me want to vomit?” I said, trying on a laugh.

             
“Sure. Where do you want to go?” she asked.

             
“Ugh. Let’s just go to my mom’s. Everyone sells coffee, and it's just making me want to throw up.”

             
We walked in relative silence back to my mom’s house. Something was definitely eating at her, and it was driving me crazy not knowing.

             
“Low, what’s wrong?” I asked, stopping mid-stride.

             
The seriousness in my voice stopped her walking. She turned, looking like a deer in headlights. What the hell was going on with her? I took in her appearance; she looked exhausted. Her hair wasn't styled into the perfect long, blonde waves like usual. Instead, it's piled high on her head in a messy bun. Her makeup was barely visible and she looked as though she hadn’t slept in weeks.

             
“I’m fine. It’s just … shit, I feel so damn guilty,” she whispered.

             
She didn’t look at me. Not because she won’t, it’s because she can’t. What the hell did she feel guilty about? She didn’t do this to me.

             
“Why do you feel guilty? You have nothing to be guilty about.”

             
“I pushed you onto Angel because I thought Logan was a douche-bag-man-whore who couldn’t keep it in his pants. I’m so sorry.”

             
Suddenly she was sobbing, tears rolling from her eyes as if the flood gates had opened. What the hell? She thinks this is her fault? Oh god. I wrapped my arms around her and we fell to the ground. Pulling her knees up, she folded into me like a child.

             
“Hey, shh. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault,” I said over and over again.

             
We sat there for at least an hour. I held onto her tightly, just so she understood I was right there with her. Her tears long since stopped, but her body still shook and she was hiccupping with sobs. My own tears fell. I was hurting for my best friend, who thought all this mess was her fault. It’s a vicious circle. My own god damn demons were still hurting people, and I couldn’t take it.

             
Sighing, I lifted Low’s chin from my shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Listen to me, this isn’t your fault. It was my decision, my past came back to haunt me. So, don’t you dare take any of this onto your shoulders, Low. This isn’t your fault.”

             
“I just …”
Hiccup
. “Hate myself …”
Hiccup
. “For pushing.”
Hiccup.

             
“Don’t you dare say that! Low, this isn’t your problem. I promise you. I am the only person I blame for this fuck up. Okay?”

             
I watched her as she nodded softly. God, I missed my best friend. We had known each other since we were kids. She has been through everything with me. The thought of her taking any of this weight on to her shoulders hurt. I needed to get some god damn control.

             
“Do you want to come inside and talk about this?” I asked.

             
“Yeah, I think I could do with a girly day after blubbering all over you.” She smiled. There’s my best friend.

             
I hated that my best friend was hurting and I'd had no idea. Hated it. Angel hadn’t just broken me, he had hurt my friends and family. Jack had gotten his claws into me, but he would not get them into them.

             
We walked the rest of the way back to my mom’s house. Our conversation was light as we walked through the door. After pulling off my jacket and shoes, we went into the kitchen. My mom wasn’t there, she must have been called into work.

             
“Are you really okay, Neva?” Low asked as I searched around the refrigerator for something to eat.