Wide Open (34 page)
Authors: Shelly Crane
One
It was a case of mistaken identity.
The worst kind.
The kind that ended with appalled, parted lips and evil glares.
The girl was cute enough. Cute wasn't the problem nor the solution for me. I needed to blend and be invisible in the most plain-as-day way and girls like this, girls who just walked up to guys because they had hope somewhere deep inside them that I would fall for that pretty face, were the opposite of plain-as-day. Those kinds of girls got guys killed. At least the kind that were on the run.
She had mistaken me for a normal guy.
And this girl who approached, who could see that I was already surrounded by two, which was more girls than I knew what to do with, must've thought I had a hankering for something sweet. Because when she spoke, her words were soft and almost made me want to get to know her instead of send her packing. But I couldn’t stay in this town. It was better to hurt her now when she wasn't invested than it would be to leave one day without a trace.
The girls who were currently soaking up my attention - that they thought they had - they'd move on to their next prey and forget I ever existed. But sweet girls got attached and asked questions.
Don't stop running…
I swallowed and stared bored at her as she finally made her way to me from across the hall. She tucked her hair behind her ear gently and smiled a little. "Hi, uh, can I just-"
Showtime. "Honey, that's real sweet, but I'm not interested." I slid my arm around one of my groupies. I didn't even know her name, but they were always within arm's reach. "As you can see I have my hands full already, but thanks for offering."
She scoffed and looked completely shocked. I took her in, head to foot. She
was
cute. She had a great little body on her and her face was almond shaped. He lips looked…sweet. She was not the kind I wanted within ten feet of me. She was still standing there. I had to send her packing.
I grinned as evilly as I could muster and felt a small twinge of guilt at the vulnerable look of her. I looked away quickly. I didn't even want to remember her face. "Run along, sweetheart. Go find a tuba player, I'm sure he's more your speed. Like I said, I'm not interested."
She didn't glare, and that was a first. Most of the girls who approached a guy were confident, I mean that was the reason they thought they had a chance, right? But she looked a little…destroyed. When her lips parted, it was in shock, it was to catch her breath. I continued my bored stance, though at this point, it pained me in my chest.
But I was doing the best thing for this and any other girl. People who got involved with me were collateral damage when Biloxi came around. He was a ruthless bastard and if he found me and knew someone cared about me, or worse, that I cared about someone, he'd be all over them.
So when she turned without a word and swiftly made her way down the hall, I was thankful. I probably saved her life, though she had no idea. She thought I was an ass, but I was really looking out for her. That's what I told myself as I watched her go. That I had hurt her feelings for a reason, and that she'd get over it.
A slender hand crawled over my collar.
"What's this from?" she asked in a purr and slid her thumb over the long scar from my ear all the way to my chin. "Mmm, it's so sexy."
It followed my jaw line and it was not sexy. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time some girl had said as much and it pissed me off to no end that they thought that, let alone said it out loud.
It was my reminder of what happened when I let my guard down and it was anything but sexy.
I bit down on my retort and sent her a small smile that showed her I was listening, but she had to work for my attention. "Is that right?"
"Mmhmm," she said and kissed my jaw. "I have a little scar, too." She pointed to the place between her breasts. "Right here. Wanna see it?"
I managed a chuckle. "Is there really a scar there?"
"Pick me up tonight and you can find out," she purred, making her friend giggle.
"Don't think so. Busy."
"Ahhh, boo." She pouted and let her other hand hook a finger into my waistband. "Well here's something to keep you company tonight."
And then she pulled me down by my collar and kissed me. I tried not to cringe away, but her lip gloss was sticky and sweet. When she tried to open my mouth with her tongue I pushed her away gently with my hands wrapped around her bony arms.
"Let's keep this PG, honey. Settle down."
She giggled. I knew she would.
It was the last week of school. It was my last week to pretend that I was still
in
high school. The next time I made a move to evade Biloxi, I'd enroll in college because I was getting too old to be a high-schooler. I didn't know where I was going. I would have graduated from high school years ago, but at the rate I was going, I didn't know if I would have
actually
graduated or not. School was not a place of learning for me, it was a cover, a place to blend in and be normal until Biloxi found me and then I'd be gone to the next place.
This was my life. No time or want for girls, no parties, no movies, no parents.
This was my life, but it wasn't a life at all.
Two
Six months and one lonely birthday later…
College sucked.
The big one.
I had only been going to class for a couple of days and was already dreading the long classes. It was part of my cover. I practically chanted those words in my mind as I trudged everywhere I went. But one thing remained the same. Desperate girls ran rampant and I still wasn't interested. Every once in a while, they were good for a distraction if need be, but mostly…not interested. There was this one chick, Kate, who would not take no for a answer. She'd 'found' me over the summer when I was apartment hunting and hadn't 'lost' me yet, no matter how hard I tried. To get her to go away one time, I'd even given her my phone number. I was going to ditch it in a couple weeks anyway when I undoubtedly had to move again, so it didn't matter, right?
Wrong.
The girl was as annoying as a Chihuahua all hopped up 'cause there's a knock at the door. The texting and come-hithers in text code were nonstop.
And now, as I stared out into the dark rain to see a POS car sideways in the road, I knew the world hated me, had to, because someone had just smashed her car into my truck.
I got out and braced myself. It wasn't easy to pay cash for new cars every time I needed to skip town. It was hard living when you couldn't be who you really were. Finding people to pay you under the table was almost impossible these days.
I groaned and glared at the beauty standing at the end of my truck. "Look at that!"
"I'm so sorry," she began. I could tell she really was, but I was beyond pissed. "I'll call my insurance company right now."
That stopped me. "No!" I shouted and she jolted at the verbal assault. "No insurance."
"Well," she pondered, "what do you mean? I have good insurance."
"But I don't."
She turned her head a bit in thought and then her mouth fell open as she realized what I was saying. "You don’t have
any
insurance, do you?"
"No," I answered. "Look. Whatever, we'll just call this even-steven, because you did hit
me
."
"Even-steven my butt!" she yelled and scurried to jump in front of me, blocking my way.
"And what a cute butt it is."
Even through the noise of water hitting metal, I heard her intake of breath. The rain pelted us in the dark. I hoped no one came around the corner. It would be hard for them to see us here in the middle of the road. She might get hurt. Then I wondered why I cared.
"Look, buddy," she replied and crossed her arms. It drew my eyes to her shirt. My eyes bulged 'cause that shirt…well, it was see-through now. She caught on and jerked her crossed arms higher. "How dare you! You're on a roll in the jerkface department, you know that!"
"My specialty," I said and saluted as I climbed in my truck. "Get your pretty butt in your car and let's pretend this never happened, shall we?"
Because if cops and insurance were brought into this, I'd be on the run sooner than I thought.
She huffed. "Excuse me-"
"Darlin'. Car. Now." She glared. "Like right now."
She threw her hands up in the air and yelled, "I knew chivalry was dead!" before climbing in her car and driving away. She didn't know it, but I was being as chivalrous as they come. I made sure she got out of the rain and back into her car, even though she didn't like the way I did it, and I got her as far away from me as I could.
In my book, I deserved a freaking medal for being so chivalrous, because people that stuck with me didn't live long.
Just ask my mom.
Oh, wait, you can't. She died long, long years ago saving my life. I refused to bring anyone onto this sinking ship with me. If it finally did go down, I was going down alone.
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