Wrong Side of Town (12 page)

And, here I was running away with my crazy thoughts when there was no logical reason for me to be having these crazy thoughts about Vincent. It was never going to happen. I would never let it happen. And, besides, I doubted that I was even his type. He was the kind of guy who made a move when he liked a girl, and obviously there was no interest on his part. 

Therefore, I should stop thinking about how firm his stomach muscles felt beneath his shirt. Yes. I. Should. Stop. Now.

Thankfully, we’d reached the outskirts of Penthill, and it only took a couple of minutes before Vincent was pulling up outside the community center. We’d gotten here pretty fast, despite Vincent’s best efforts to stick to the speed limit. I was pretty sure if I hadn’t been with him, he would’ve broken the speed limit within a minute of starting the bike.

When I hopped off the bike and took off the helmet, I was surprised to find that Vincent was also getting off and removing his own helmet.

He rested his helmet on the seat and ran a hand through his hair, trying to remove all signs of helmet hair. I preferred it when he let his hair hang loose instead of plying it with gel and smoothing it back. Either way, it highlighted his cheekbones like crazy. He had amazing cheekbones.

“So, listen.” Vincent blew out a breath, looking uncomfortable. It was pretty obvious he was having a hard time communicating or talking about his feelings. It was kind of cute, actually. “I get why you don’t wanna come back and tutor Dylan. I was a total asshole to you, and I probably said things I shouldn’t have said, but you kinda pissed me off when you said that Dil was scared of me.”

“I know and I’m-“

“It’s just that I try so fucking hard, Stelle. I try so hard to give Dil the life that me and my brothers never had growing up. But I keep screwing it up. I keep making mistakes and I can’t make it right.” Vincent paused, breathing hard. His eyes drilled into me and an electric current shot up my spine. “I know you don’t think much of me. You made that pretty clear the first night we met. But I’m telling you the truth; I’m doing every damn thing I can to make that kid’s life better.” Vincent’s voice cracked, and he buried his head in his hands, tendrils of hair falling over his face.

Without really thinking about what I was doing, I stepped forward and brushed the loose strands of hair off his face before placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. It was difficult for me to see his tough guy exterior crack. Obviously, Dylan’s well-being meant a lot to him.

Vincent jerked up, his eyes wide and startled as he stared at my hand and then at me, as though trying to deduce whether I’d lost my mind. I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t. I mean, I had just tried to console a Madden for the second time in a week!

There was something very wrong with this picture.

Heat assaulted my face at Vincent’s reaction, and I took a hasty step back, feeling like the most moronic person in the world. I was mentally slapping myself over and over again for doing such a stupid thing.

Just because Vincent was upset didn’t mean that I could console him. We weren’t friends; we barely put up with each other. And, he was a
Madden
. A freaking Madden! I had to remind myself of that any time I let my feelings get the better of me.

I’d let myself get carried away again. The distance between us had to stay intact. I couldn’t just go around
touching
him all the time because I felt bad for him.

“Uh, um, yeah.” I stammered, at a complete loss for words. Vincent was still staring at me like I was a space alien, so I had to fill the excruciatingly awkward silence somehow. “I-uh-see that you’re being genuine ab-about wanting the best for Dylan, but-“

Before I could continue, Vincent reached out and took my hands in his. And you know what happened? My heart stopped. It freaking stopped. I mean, it didn’t literally stop; I could still feel it beating rapidly in my chest, but in some weird way, it stopped.

“Please, Stelle.” Vincent’s voice was low; his eyes burned into me, and his skin was blazing against mine. “I know you couldn’t care less about me if you tried, but Dylan needs you. If you stop coming over, it’s gonna kill him in a way you don’t understand. You’re not doing this for me; you’re doing it for him. Don’t let him walk away from this thinking that his circumstances make people treat him differently.”

There was so much sincerity in Vincent’s voice that I felt my defenses beginning to crumble. He was right. Dylan depended on me. In a couple of weeks, we’d formed an attachment, and I couldn’t break his heart like that. I would hate for him to go down the same path as his brothers, knowing that I could’ve made a difference in his life.

Exhaling, I nodded, and watched as Vincent’s expression changed from desperation to relief. “You’re right; it’s not his fault he was born into this.  I’ll continue to tutor him, but I have conditions.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was about to object, so I hurried on. “No swearing, no alcohol, and no drugs around Dylan. You’re trying to set a good example for him, right? Setting a good example starts with becoming a good example.”

I held my breath, watching as the muscles worked in Vincent’s jaw, expecting him to reject my offer. But when he gave a curt nod instead, I felt like I had just entered a dream state. I had just negotiated with a Madden and lived to tell the tale.

“If you think that’s gonna help him then I’ll go along with it.” Vincent brushed his fingers against my knuckle, and my heart soared. Breaking eye contact, he stepped away from me, putting distance between us. “I gotta go.”

His abruptness confused me, and I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ears in an attempt to find something to do with my hands now that Vincent had released them. “Yes, uh, I should go, too. I have to start prepping for dinner.”

“Prepping dinner?” Vincent cocked a brow.

“Yes, for the homeless.” I resignedly shoved my hands into my coat pocket to stop fidgeting. “A hot meal really gets their spirits up on a freezing night like this one.”

“Huh.” He was silent again, his eyes searching as they studied my face. Finally, he broke his gaze, and headed back to his bike. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Okay, sure,” I said, but I didn’t start walking to the community center, even though I knew I should. Something was tugging inside of me, curling itself around the wall I always kept in place when I was near Vincent—sympathy.

I felt sympathy for Vincent. And that notion was terrifying, that I felt sympathy for this guy who was so different from me that there weren’t enough antonyms in the world to compare us.

“Vincent.” He turned when I said his name, and I swallowed, bunching my fists inside the pocket of my coat. “I do care about you.”

I didn’t wait to see his reaction—a part of me didn’t want to know how he would react.

I simply walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

Vincent

There was a pounding in my ears as I watched Estella walk away.

I didn’t know what to think. She’d just told me she cared about me. No one had ever told me they cared about me and meant it.

Ruby had said something along those lines to me many times, but she was always manipulative with her words. With Estella, it was different. It was different because she actually seemed genuine about it.

And she’d touched me again. She’d fucking touched me. I figured the girl couldn’t stand to be near me, but she’d actually touched me. And I’d touched her back. Because I’d wanted to. Because I didn’t want her thinking that I didn’t want to.

My logic was so screwed up.

Swearing under my breath, I turned to grab my helmet, and that’s when I saw him.

Conor sat on his bike, across the road, in the parking lot of
The
Penthill Grill
. And, he was staring right at me. Even from here, I could see the smirk on his mouth as he watched me like he’d just found out an amazing secret.

My body tensed as a sick feeling filled me up. Conor was the butt boy of Troy, the leader of the Allbrook gang. Troy was always sending Conor out on little recon missions to try and dig up something on me so they could use it as an advantage against me in a fight.

It’d been three years and they’d still had no luck. Those assholes were dreaming if they thought they’d ever find a weakness in me. I’d been trained by the best; I’d been trained by Ryder, and he allowed no weaknesses. Not after what’d happened to him. Not after he’d been weakened for life. No one knew about Ryder’s weakness except me and Tyson, and we were sworn to secrecy, bound by something more powerful than what bound our gang—we were bound by blood.

Still, the smug expression on Conor’s face made my stomach sink. Why the hell did he look like he’d just seen something that’d made his day? There was nothing—

Then my heart sank into my stomach.

Fuck.

He’d seen me with Estella. There was no other explanation for it. He must’ve seen her brush aside my hair, and seen me holding her hand.

Anyone who knew me knew I didn’t do shit like that. Yeah, I kissed girls, touched girls, and screwed girls, but I never held their fucking hand. I’d taken things way too far with Estella—I’d let her in—and now that asshole, Conor, had seen us together. Even if he told Troy, I didn’t really know what they’d do with the information.

I was holding a girl’s hand; so fucking what?

Still, I didn’t want Estella getting dragged into the middle of the chaos that was my life. It’d been hard enough convincing her to stay for Dylan. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be giving me many more chances.

I just hoped Conor hadn’t seen her face properly before she’d left. It worried me that I’d unknowingly exposed her to the Allbrooks.

Shooting Conor a look of indifference, I flipped my middle finger at him and climbed onto my bike. A broad grin spread across his face, and he gave me a thumbs up before pulling on his helmet and riding out of the parking lot at high speed.

Asshole.

***

That night, I got drunk with the boys.

We sat by the creek behind our house, celebrating Ryder and Tyson’s return. Dylan wasn’t feeling too great and I hadn’t wanted to leave him home by himself, so we’d decided to stay on the property instead.

The guys were all talking around me, but I was only half-listening to what they were saying. My mind kept drifting back to Estella and why she affected me like this. It kept drifting back to Conor and how much he’d seen this afternoon.

I finally paid attention when Cohen started talking about Allbrook’s new fighter; some young guy who was slowly working his way up the ranks and being trained by Troy himself. Normally, Troy let his thugs coach their fighters, so if he was getting involved then he probably thought this new kid had a good shot at beating me.

“He any good?” Harris asked, taking a swig of his beer.

Harris was the oldest in the gang—he was thirty-one—and he always got to the point. That’s what I liked about him—he didn’t play games, he didn’t mess with you; he just gave it to you straight.

“They’re saying he is, but I haven’t laid eyes on him yet,” Cohen said with a shrug. Cohen was our recon guy. He found out all the dirt about the rival gangs, but especially the Allbrooks. “All I know is, they reckon this new boy could beat Vin.”

Everyone turned to gauge my reaction, but I didn’t even react at the news. I had other things on my mind; like why Estella had touched me like that. And why the hell had she said she cared about me?

“Then they’re fucking idiots.” Ryder’s voice broke above everyone else’s, loud and clear. “No one can beat Vincent, and those Allbrook fuckers know it.” He gave everyone a hard look as if daring them to contradict him

No one was stupid enough to disagree with Ryder. At least to his face.

Then Ryder’s eyes shot to me and a cold smile formed on his mouth. “No one can beat you because you don’t have a weakness, isn’t that right, little bro?”

To everyone else, it might’ve seemed like Ryder was showing his confidence in me, but I knew better. That’s not what he was doing. He was exercising his power over me.

When I spoke, my mouth felt dry. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Ryder gave me a curt nod before his eyes snapped back to the other guys. “This is such a cock-fest. Let’s get some pussy down here.”

The guys cried out in agreement, and I watched Todd and Tyson pull out their phones and start texting furiously. They were usually the ones who knew the easy girls that got a thrill from hanging out with bad boys. These girls wanted to be seen with us; they wanted to be associated with power, that’s why they came to us.

An hour later, about ten girls had shown up. You had to give Todd and Tyson credit—they knew some pretty hot girls.

A few of them had bee-lined straight for me. They knew who I was and they wanted to connect themselves to me somehow, even if it was just through a one night stand.

The only problem was they were kind of pissing me off tonight.

About three or four of the girls had tried to unsuccessfully strike up conversation with me, but had eventually wandered off to the other guys when they realized they weren’t going to get anything from me.

I sat in a chair close to the dock, staring out at the creek, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. Maybe I was sick. Maybe I had brain damage. There was something not right with my head.

My thoughts kept drifting back to the day I’d been here with Estella and how good it’d felt just to hold her. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with me.

Before I could try and diagnose my sickness, a girl planted herself in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Viiiiinceeeent! I haven’t seen you in soooo long!” she slurred in an irritating high-pitched tone.

Shit. It was Sarah, and she was one of the clingiest girls I’d ever had the misfortune of sleeping with. Don’t get me wrong. She was hot as hell—long legs, tanned, big boobs—but she wanted way too much from me. She wanted a relationship from me even though I’d made it clear that there was never going to be anything between us apart from sex.

Taking a gulp of my beer, I shot her a look of disinterest. “Not long enough.”

She tilted her head back and let out a roar of laughter, swatting at me with a hand. “You are suuuch a tease, Vin!” Her eyes were too unfocused and her words were jumbled together. She’d been having something other than just alcohol—that’s why she was acting extra crazy tonight.

“What are you on?” I muttered, trying to push her off me, but she held on.

“I’m on you.” She lowered her voice, probably in an attempt to be sexy, and planted a kiss on neck where my ‘M’ tattoo was. “And I want you.”

Her lips felt good against my skin—she knew how to turn me on—but it was also annoying me. I pushed her away again and stood up.

Sarah almost tumbled to the ground, but managed to grab onto my arm before she lost her balance completely. Straightening up, she shot me an annoyed look. “What the hell is up with you, Vin? I’ve been calling you for two weeks and I don’t hear anything back.” She placed her hands on my chest and leaned in. “That’s two weeks wasted that you could’ve been fucking my brains out.”

I rolled my eyes and took her hands off me, placing the beer bottle on the chair. “I’m sure you found someone else to keep you busy.”

“Don’t call me a whore, you asshole!” Sarah tried to push me, moving sluggishly, and I easily grabbed her hands, finally paying attention long enough to see how red her eyes were. She’d definitely taken something before she’d gotten here; that’s the only reason she had the guts to talk to me like that.

“Sarah,” I said, surprised by how calm my voice was, “you’re talking crap right now. You’re drunk and God knows what the fuck you’ve been shooting up. When you calm down, and you want to go home, let me know and I’ll give you a ride.”

As I turned, I saw that everyone was watching us, like we were some sort of fucking spectacle. For a few seconds, I stared around at everyone in disgust—they were all drunk, drugged up, and the girls were happy for the guys to do whatever they wanted to them. It made me sick.

Estella was right. We chose this life for ourselves. We didn’t have to do any of this, but we did. There was no way I wanted Dylan to become like us.

“Vin, I’m sorry!” Sarah clung onto my arm, her nails digging into me. “I’m sorry! Let me make it up to you! Let me make you happy!”

Her idea of “happy” was to proceed to undo the zipper of my jeans. And, yeah, it probably would make me happy, but what the hell was I going to get out of a girl who was so drugged up, she didn’t care about giving me a blowjob in front of thirty other people?

That was a huge turn-off.

“Look, stop.” I forced Sarah to her feet and zipped up my jeans. “I’m not doing this with you in front of everyone.”

Sarah glanced around, her eyes glazed, and giggled as though she’d only just noticed everyone around us. She leaned in to whisper to me. “Then let’s go somewhere quieter. Maybe your room…”

I jerked away from her, pushing her back. “You need to find someone else to annoy, because there is no way in hell I’m taking you back to my room tonight.”

Ignoring her cry of protest, I turned and began walking past the other guys. My eyes locked with Ryder’s, and his expression was hard as he watched me. I didn’t bother trying to figure out what was running through his mind. I was pretty sure everyone was wondering what the hell was wrong with me tonight. I’d spend a good amount of time trying to figure out the same thing.

Weaving my way through the trees, I finally ended up at the clearing behind our house and trudged up the dirt path, going into the house through the back door. Once I was inside the house—leaning up against the wall in the kitchen—the noise from the creek was faint. At least Dylan wouldn’t be able to hear most of what was going on.

Turning out of kitchen, I walked down the hall and knocked on Dylan’s door.

“Come in.”

When I pushed the door open and walked in, I found my brother sitting on his bed surrounded by books. God, my brother was a saint. That’s what was so great about him; he went into his room and lost himself in his books.

He seemed surprised when I took a seat at his desk chair. “Why aren’t you at the creek?”

I shrugged. “Dunno. Not in the mood.”

“Oh.” Dylan began placing his books into a neat stack. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Kid.” I leaned forward, wondering what was bugging him.

“Do you think Estella will really come back tomorrow?” His expression was serious as he regarded me, biting his lower lip.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, not really sure what to say. It seemed like Estella would come over tomorrow, but I didn’t want to get Dylan’s hopes up only for him to be disappointed if she didn’t show up. He didn’t need another woman coming into his life and messing it up.

“I don’t know.” I stared at the floorboards, feeling like a total jerk for not having a better answer to his question. Why give him hope only for him to be let down over and over again?

“I think she’ll come,” Dylan stated, picking up his books and walking past me to put them on the desk. “She’s my friend.”

Hearing him say that Estella was his friend made me cringe. Yeah, she was a nice girl, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to let him down. “That’s great, Dil, but that doesn’t mean that she’s gonna see you tomorrow. I don’t want you getting excited for nothing.”

The truth was, I didn’t want to see how devastated he’d be if she didn’t show up. But after what’d happened with Ryder, I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Sometimes I wanted to get away from this life too, but it was too late for me.

“Vin, why don’t you trust anyone?” Dylan asked, returning to the bed and sitting on the edge.

I didn’t know what to say to that. There were so many things wrong with me that I couldn’t even begin to explain them to a ten-year-old kid. So instead of answering his question, I stood up and headed to the door.