Until You (Fall Away Series) (17 page)

My first party this year when she screamed, “Cops?” Did I tell him to put his hands on her?

I narrowed my eyes on him. “I think you go above and beyond. You mess with her without me telling you, so why do you care?”

He smiled and let out a nervous laugh, brushing me off. “This isn’t about me. I never wanted to make an enemy of that girl. She came outside last night like she was ready to back us up. She’s hot, athletic, tough, and she can handle a gun. What’s not to like?”

Every muscle in my shoulders and arms flexed. I didn’t like that Madoc was veering away from how I wanted people to see her, and I fucking hated that he drooled over her.

I came back down the stairs, my boots pounding on the tile almost as hard as the blood pumping in my veins, and bore down at my best friend.

“Stay away from her.”

He held up his hands and smiled like he was trying to calm me down. “Hey, man, no worries. She broke my nose and kicked me in the balls. I think that ship’s sailed.” He narrowed his eyes and looked confused. “But if you don’t want her, why can’t anyone else have a shot?”

Why, indeed?

The shit I’d pulled on Tate over the years could be chalked up to hate, anger, need for control.

But not letting other guys near her? That wasn’t a game.

That was about me not being okay with anyone else’s mouth or hands on her.

And I needed to let that shit go.

“I’m not standing in her way anymore,” I said calmly. “If she wants to date and screw every guy in school, she can have a ball. I’m done.”

“Well good,” Madoc said, stretching his fat mouth into a wide grin. “Because word is she went out with Ben Jamison last night.”

The walls closed in. Madoc got smaller and smaller.

Ben and Tate? No, no, no…

My long-sleeved black thermal was suffocating me, and for the first time since last fall I actually felt inclined to rip off the goddamn sleeves again just to breathe.

“That’s fine,” I clipped out, barely unscrewing my jaws to speak. “I couldn’t care less. They can all have her.”

But I never, for a single second, meant it.

Tate and K.C. got into it at lunch again. I could see them eating lunch at the picnic tables outside, and both were talking intensely, Tate looking away, shaking her head, and K.C. looking apologetic.

While I told myself that it would be worth it when it was done, I still felt like shit. K.C. wasn’t telling Tate about using me to get back at her boyfriend. If she did, they probably wouldn’t be fighting. Not that Tate would be okay with it, but she probably wouldn’t be barely eating her lunch and scowling so much.

No, Tate thought K.C. and I were hooking up.

Telling the school she had genital warts or lice had been mean but still funny. Trying to steal her best friend was cruel. It would really hurt her.

Exactly what I wanted
, I told myself.

But day after day I caught myself mesmerized by her every move. The methodical way she’d sharpen her precious pencils, the way her hair fell over her shoulder when she’d lean down to grab something from her messenger bag, or watching her body bend as she’d sit down or get up. Every bit of skin, every smile, and every time she licked her lips had a lightning storm shooting downwards from my stomach to my dick, and I almost wished she was back in France.

At least I could hate her and not want to fuck her every second.

Madoc called it hate-fucking. He told me once that he’d never loved anyone, but he’d had sex with someone he really hated once, and it was the best he’d ever had.

Passion, punishment, anger—it sounded like an attractive but dangerous mix.

I let out a breath and straightened my shoulders as I walked into my last class of the day—the class I shared with Tate.

“Leave.”

I heard Tate’s voice as soon as I walked in the door, and I snapped my attention to Nate Dietrich leaning on her desk, crowding her space.

“That’s your last warning,” she continued, looking angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“Jared’s right,” Nate grumbled and stood back upright. “You’re not worth it.”

And I was on his fucking ass. “Sit down, Nate.”

He spun around, eyebrows raised and looking surprised as we stood in between the rows of desks that were quickly filling up with students.

“Hey, man, no offense.” He held up his hands. “If you’re not done with her…”

My arms tensed with the need to haul this guy out of here by his balls.

If I’m not done with her?

And just then, I felt like crawling inside of myself to hide.

My throat tightened.

What the hell?

I wanted her to hurt. I didn’t want her to hurt.

I hated her. I loved her.

I wanted to violate her body in a hundred different ways. I wanted to keep her safe.

There was no limit to how fucking confused I was right now, but one thing was for certain.

She wasn’t trash.

Over the years, she’d endured a lot of harassment because of me. People are easily manipulated. They want to be accepted, and gossip is taken as gospel. Tell people that someone has their clit pierced or that they eat dogs, and you just have to sit back and watch the school flood with talk.

However, by junior and senior year, my childish rumors were about as effective as a broken condom. I’d wanted to keep guys away from Tate, but that wasn’t working so much anymore. They saw she was beautiful, and now, after the locker room incident, they saw her as a slut, too.

And for the first time, I wasn’t getting any peace from tormenting this girl. I just wanted to wrap her up in my arms and see her smile.

My eyes narrowed, and I wished for a perfect world where I could toss darts at this guy’s dick. “Don’t talk to her again,” I commanded. “Go.” And I jerked my chin off to a corner he should go fucking hide in.

Was I better than him?

No. But I’d deal with that shit later.

Tate let out an aggravated sigh as Nate walked off, and I turned my eyes on her in time to see her lips tighten. I saw the scowl, knew it was meant for me, but didn’t even have a chance to figure out why when she spoke up.

“Don’t do me any favors,” she sneered. “You’re a miserable piece of shit, Jared. But then, I guess I’d be miserable, too, if my parents hated me. Your dad left you, and your mom avoids you. But who can blame them, right?”

I stopped breathing, and the room shrunk in on me.

What the fuck did she just say?

I stared at her, feeling torn apart and dead, knowing that it was completely un-Tate to say something like that but knowing she spoke the truth.

I didn’t forget to breathe. I just didn’t want to anymore.

It felt like every eye in the room was on me and people were whispering behind their hands, laughing at me. I was exposed, and everyone knew my shit.

But when I glanced around, I realized no one was even paying us any attention.

My eyes sharpened on her, and I remembered exactly why I hated her.

She was packaged up to look like a good girl, but make no mistake—there was a bitch in there.

“Okay, class,” Mrs. Penley called out, walking through the door.

I said nothing and continued to my seat.

“Please take out your compasses and lookup your East. When I say ‘go’, please take your materials and sit next to that person for today’s discussion. Feel free to move desks side by side or face to face. Go.”

I sat there, and Ivy Donner was on me before I even had a chance to pull out my compass.

But I barely heard her chatter.

Tate was joining Ben Jamison, and they were moving their desks face to face.

Strange thing was, I felt nothing looking at her. Like I was numb. The need I felt two minutes ago to hold her and tell her I was sorry was completely gone now.

And what’s more? I didn’t even feel angry, either.

Tate was lost to me. I didn’t care.

I was shit. I didn’t care about that, either.

She looked at me every once in a while. I didn’t want her. I didn’t hate her.

I. Just. Didn’t. Care.

“Stop!” K.C. laughed. “You’re cheating!”

“I don’t cheat.” I stood there, smirking and leaning on my pool cue. “I made the shot. I get another one.”

K.C. and I squared off across my pool table in the family room, and her frustration actually had me itching to laugh.

K.C. the Pool Shark. Who would’ve thought?

After school, and the episode with Tate, I’d cooled off at work and then headed home.

As I’d pulled into my driveway, I’d noticed a black Lincoln parked next door at the Brandts’ and had immediately groaned.

Tate’s grandmother.

Normally, I would’ve been pissed that Tate now had an adult around, interfering.

But that wasn’t it.

Her grandmother was in everyone’s business and always tried to talk to me when she came to visit. I should’ve known she’d come to stay with Tate being on her own right now. I just hoped she didn’t stay long.

K.C. had come over around eight, and we were going on our fifth game of pool.

“You called the six,” she argued. “Not the six and the ten! You can’t put two balls in the pocket at the same time. You have to make the shot you call.”

“It’s called being awesome.” I shot back.

She scowled at me and twisted her lips up in frustration.

Her frustration was kind of cute, and she was a beautiful mess tonight. Her long brown hair, a shade lighter than mine, was in a loose ponytail, and she had on no makeup.

If there was ever a clearer sign that a girl wasn’t into you, this was it.

“Fine.” I shrugged and put my hands up in the air, feigning annoyance. “Take your shot.”

Her eyes lit up as did her bright smile, and she leaned down over the table to take her turn.

Even though it was getting on to ten o’clock, I wasn’t in any hurry for her to leave.

She won four out of the five games we played, and I thought I’d have to go to the ER to get my balls reattached. I was interested in knowing how an uptight girl who couldn’t touch a single thing in Freshman Biology without saying “Ew” learned how to be a hard-nosed pool player.

We walked towards the living room, and I put my arm around her neck, gently pulling her in.

“So I have to ask you something?”

She let out a long sigh. “Yeah, me, too.”

I looked down at her. “You first.”

Plopping down on the couch, she stared at her hands in her lap. “I know you’re using me to get to Tate, Jared. To make her angry, or…” and she looked up at me, “jealous.”

My legs stiffened, and I didn’t sit down. Crossing my arms, I walked to the rain-splattered window and, out of habit, looked up to Tate’s darkened bedroom windows.

Don’t.

“Jared,” she continued, “I’m using you, too. I’m not even sure if I want Liam back, but I want him to know I’m not sitting at home waiting for him, either. That’s why I took you up on the offer to come here tonight. Tate said she was busy, and I didn’t want to stay home.”

I turned around and cocked my head to the side, peering at her. “You could’ve used any guy to make Liam jealous, K.C. Why me? You knew that it would hurt Tate if she thought you were hooking up with me.”

I could almost see her melt into the couch. Her face fell, and she slowly brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

“My mom is…,” she almost whispered, “overbearing.” She shook her head, like the word “overbearing” was too simplistic. “She picks out my clothes, checks my phone, picks my classes, and she even …” But her breath caught, and she choked back a dry sob.

My mouth went dry, and I stilled.

Jesus.

What wasn’t she saying?

Using her thumb, she caught tears as they fell. “Anyway, after Liam, I’m just sick of being me. Sick of being weak and pushed around. I thought Jared Trent would get under Liam’s skin like no other.”

The corners of her lips turned up slightly, and I understood what she was saying.

We both wanted control.

“But you knew it would hurt Tate,” I restated, still searching for a reason why she would hurt her so-called best friend.