Slate (Breaking the Declan Brothers #2) (17 page)

So, as not to hurt her anymore, I get dressed and I leave.

“You’re supposed to hit the bull’s-eye, Lurlene. Not the wall.” I laugh, before taking another healthy gulp of my beer. This is exactly what I need, a night out with my girls. I don’t need to think about Slate Declan. I don’t need to worry about what he’s doing right now. I don’t want to care. But, dammit, I do.

“I told you,” Lurlene tugs on her skirt, “I’m no good at this game,” her arm rears back, “and that I didn’t want to play!” She whips the dart, and it bounces sideways against the board before dropping to the floor.

“Hey.” Emmie comes walking up with another round of drinks. “Your aim’s getting better. Now just straighten it out.”

Lurlene stands up straight, squares her shoulders, and throws her last dart. It hits the neighboring dartboard. “Sorry,” she calls out to the guys playing on it and turns around. “I’m done.” She waves a hand, taking a seat on the stool. “You ladies are on your own.” She picks up her glass of wine, takes a sip, and then stands up, tugging on her skirt again. “God, Emmie, is every skirt you own this short? I’m afraid to sit down.”

“Oh, stop it. You look hot!” Emmie bounces her blonde eyebrows. “And, girl, you got the legs for it, so wear it like you own it.”

“Like I own it? Clearly, you can see that I don’t own it. My hips are wider than yours, and they keep pulling the damn thing up to my tonsils.”

“Lurlene, sit down.” I wave a finger at her. “We’re out to have fun and that skirt, it’s gonna help with that.”

“I’m not in the mood to chase guys tonight,” Lurlene says, slowly lowering onto the stool while holding the skirt in place.

“No?” I raise an eyebrow. “What’s the matter? Is Zeke Declan getting to you?”

“Oh-ho, he’d like to.” She winks at me with a sneaky little smile.

“So,” I put my beer down, “you’re making progress then?”

“Yes.” Lurlene sips on her wine, and from the short response, I know that’s all I’m getting out of her. So, I glance around the bar. It looks like a college bar with lots of young, buff studs. I look over at Emmie. “How’d you hear about this place anyway?”

“Melody,” Emmie says. “She’s supposed to meet us here with a couple of friends. She should be here any minute.”

“Sweet,” I say, “the more the merrier.”

“Ah, there she is now,” Emmie says, her mouth laying open for a tad too long. “Shit.” Her eyes flash to mine. “Sorry, I swear, I didn’t know that she was bringing her.”

The way she says
her
forces me to take a quick look behind me. Fuck! Okay. I take a deep breath. I can be an immature bitch, get up, and leave right now, or I can be an adult and deal.

Lurlene leans forward, glancing back and forth at Emmie and me. “Who’s her?”

“Krissy Sykes, the girl Slate cheated on Rayna with,” Emmie whispers, smiling over at Melody, Krissy, and some other girl I don’t know, as they get closer to our table.

“Oh shit,” Lurlene says under her breath. Her dark green orbs cautiously watch me.

“I’m good,” I say with a tight grin. “Hey, Melody!” I hold my smile, skim past Krissy, and nod to the other girl. I turn to my beer and pick it up, tipping it back for a much-needed mouthful.

“Hi, ladies,” Melody says, dropping her purse on the table. “You all know Krissy, and this is Beth. She used to work at JZS’s.”

I nod, indulging in another long gulp of my beer as Lurlene and Emmie take over the happy greetings and introductions. Love my girls. They always have my back. We sit at the table, shooting the shit about high school and talking about what we’ve been doing for the past six years. Krissy tries to smile at me and even attempts to strike up a conversation, but I can’t do it. And the bitch actually looks confused about my quick, hasty answers. Come on! Just because it’s been six years, does she really think that I’m over it. Despite what Lurlene thinks, I am capable of forgiveness but hell. This chick screwed my boyfriend, the guy who at one time in my life I thought that I’d marry. No, sorry bitch, but there’s no forgiving that shit.

I head to the bar to get the next round of drinks. Emmie slides in beside me, bumping my hip with hers. “Gotta give you credit. You’re being a big girl about this,” she says, trying to wave the bartender over. When he doesn’t come our way, she turns to me. “I can’t believe she had the balls to come with Melody.”

“Ya know, I was thinking the same thing, but maybe I’m being—”

“No.” Emmie grabs my arm. “She shouldn’t have come. What she did to you is against the girl code, and if you want to leave, we can. If you want to go over there and tell her to fuck off, that’s okay, too. I’m good with whatever you want to do. You just say the word and—”

“It’s all right.” I laugh, loving Emmie and her devotion. “All I want to do is get drunk tonight with my friends, and I’m not going to let Krissy Sykes, or anyone else, stop me from doing that.”

“You sure?” She squints at me.

“Yeah.” I smile. “I’m sure. Hey, how about after we get these drinks, we hit the dance floor?”

“Sounds like a plan.” She nods, turning back to the bar when the bartender appears to take our order.

After about a half an hour on the dance floor and another beer, it’s time for me to hit the ladies’ room. When I come out of the bathroom stall, Krissy is standing there; it’s almost as if the bitch followed me in and waited for me. I look at her. Not trying to hide my annoyance, I walk over to the sink and turn on the water.

“Rayna, I don’t get it. What’s your problem?”

I shut the water off, turn, and stare at her. Did she really just ask me that?

“I know we weren’t close,” she says, “but I thought we were at least friends.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I can’t believe her. What’s wrong with this bitch?

Her hands flip out in the air. “What did I ever do to you?”

I’m shocked, and so I do what I normally do in these kinds of situations, I burst out laughing. It’s either laugh or punch this girl square in her startled face. Damn, she does pull off being innocent well. She looks like she really doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Well, I got no problem reminding her exactly why she’s a bitch. “Krissy, you fucked my boyfriend. So, no, we’re not friends, and I don’t care how long ago—”

“Wait!” She holds up her hand. “What are you talking about?” Again, she’s a great performer when it comes to feigning innocence.

“I saw you in bed with Slate,” I say, but she’s just staring at me like I got a zillion and a half heads. “Before I left here,” I remind her, “six years ago...”

“Oh, my God!” Her eyes widen.

“Yeah, it’s coming back now, isn’t it?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I swear, Rayna, nothing happened.”

“Sure.” I nod my head. What kind of fool does she take me for?

“No, really, I went home with Zeke that night.” She rushes the words out. “I was with Zeke, and you know about his rules, no sleepovers. We were at Greg Diller’s partying all night. I went home with Zeke. After we...ah, well, when I snuck out of his room, I was still drunk, and I heard someone up. It was their grandmother. I got nervous because I didn’t want her to catch me, so I slipped into Slate’s bedroom. It was dark. I bumped into his bed, and I decided to lie down. I figured that I’d wait it out for a few minutes until their grandmother went to sleep. I must have passed out. Rayna, when I woke up and saw Slate sleeping next to me, I was mortified. I got up and left. Oh God, I thought that no one knew that I was even there, including Slate. I’m so sorry. I should have told you about it, but I was so embarrassed. I knew you and Slate were in love. He was yours. All the girls knew it. In fact, even after you left for that job in Michigan, we all thought you two were still seeing each other. He never acted as if he was available. It took almost a year before everyone in town learned that you two weren’t an item any longer and even after that, Slate still wouldn’t give any other girl the time of day. Oh, Rayna.” She touches her chest. “I’m sorry that you thought—”

“Hold up,” I say, rubbing the middle of my aching forehead. I suck in some air as my brain tries to register what Krissy just vomited from her mouth. Is she telling the truth here? I can’t tell. “So, you’re saying you slept with Zeke that night?”

“Yes,” she says with convincing desperation. “Nothing happened between Slate and me. He didn’t even know that I was there in his bed.”

Now, I know that’s a lie. Slate knew perfectly well that Krissy was in his bed because I was there. I caught them. This makes no sense. If what she’s saying is true, and the girl’s pretty damn convincing that it might be, then why, when I walked into Slate’s bedroom that morning, did he let me believe that he’d slept with Krissy Sykes.

There’s this feeling you get when the person you’re in love with is near. You even sense it when you’re sleeping. The air fills with their scent and their perfect aroma falls lightly upon your skin. It touches you, awakening your senses to their arrival. With closed eyes, lying in my bed, I know Rayna is near. I lift my heavy lids to the drab white walls of my room. I scrub a hand over my face, turn my head, and open my eyes. Rayna’s standing at my bedroom door. I smile and go to sit up, my smile waning when I see her watery, red eyes. She’s crying. Why is she crying? What the fuck!

I follow her teary eyes as they move to the left of me. I glance down. Shit! My heartbeat quickens. It’s the girl Zeke was with last night. I picked their drunk asses up from Greg’s after I left Rayna’s. What in the hell is she doing in my bed? Oh, fuck, Rayna must think... shit! She thinks I fucked this girl. I’m about to wake the chick up and make her explain herself to my girlfriend and to me, but in that one quick second, I make the rash decision to use this fucked-up situation to my advantage.

Rayna just finished college and she got an offer for a social worker position in Michigan. She refuses to take it. She doesn’t want to leave me. She knows that I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave the Bayou because I can’t leave my brothers. I’m not ready for that shit yet. Hell, I don’t know that I’ll ever be, but I refuse to hold her back from her dreams. She needs to go, or she’ll despise me for the rest of her life if she doesn’t. As much as she denies it, I know it’ll happen. She’s too young to sacrifice her dreams for me. I’m too young to ask her to do it. I need to let her go, even if I have to force her to do it.

I lift my eyes from the chick and stare at Rayna. Her eyes widen when I don’t try to defend myself, when I don’t jump out of the bed and go to her, when I just sit here, allowing her to think the absolute worse of me. Tears fall from her eyes as she stares back at me for a few long, hard seconds then she turns and walks away.

I fall back on the bed, grab the sides of my head, and gaze up at the ceiling, cursing myself for what I just did. I lie in shock over my hasty action as a few of my own tears slide down from my eyes. I feel the chick next to me move, and not wanting her to see my tears, not wanting to go off on her ass for crawling into bed with me for whatever reason, I roll over and pull the covers over my head. I listen as she gets up and leaves my room. I lie there curled in a ball feeling every shatter as my heart breaks apart in my chest, knowing, without a doubt, that I just lost the love of my life.