That she was dating Jared, my dad’s former friend—and a complete asshole—was. It really wasn’t what I had imagined when she had said that she might want to start dating again.
Jared had shown up for the funeral and hadn’t left. At first, he’d started as the kind and caring friend who ordered my mother around as a way to help. Then he’d become the guy who moved in, though I wasn’t sure exactly how that had happened.
I had moved out as quickly as I could, not wanting to stay under the same roof as Jared, but I hated leaving my mother and Cody behind. However, it was either leave or go to jail for murder. Given the way Jared and I fought, one day, it likely would have been murder. I would have killed the bastard. Wrapped my hands around that thick neck of his and never let go.
I hated how he treated my mother. Like she was staff. And the way he degraded my little brother for not liking sports or anything so-called manly.
Whenever I said something or tried to step up, my mother broke down just a little bit more. I hated it.
One day soon, Cody would come out to Jared, and I wasn’t sure what would happen then. I didn’t care what Jared did to me, but if he hurt my little brother? I would kill him.
My mother seemed to realize that, so she did her best to ease the tension between us—but that wouldn’t happen.
I cleaned up what I had been working on and turned on the water to wash my hands when Jared walked in.
“I said I’d deal with that, Isabella. No need to bring in the boy,” he growled. He wrapped his hand around the back of my mother’s neck and kissed her hard. She didn’t back away and didn’t look as if she hated it, so I didn’t say anything.
Images of me ripping Jared’s head off for how he manhandled her filled my brain.
“You done, boy?” Jared asked.
“Not a boy. And I pretty much am. The clog’s fixed.” Jared should have been able to do it himself, as it wasn’t that hard of a thing, but God forbid he get his hands dirty for anything other than playing with his dick.
“We’ll see. We’ll see. You headed out?” he asked, and I knew it wasn’t a question. I would be leaving, or Jared would make me.
“Boys.” Isabella wrung her hands in front of her. My mother was not a weak woman. She had raised two of us, practically by herself, and had dealt with the unending blow of losing my father. She had lifted her chin and continued to live—though she hadn’t thrived.
As soon as Jared walked in, I saw her shoulders hunch. She became a different person. Nothing I could say would fix that. She wouldn’t let me.
I hated Jared.
“I’m headed out, Mom. Love you.” I kissed her on the cheek, watched how Jared’s eyes narrowed at that, and then grabbed my things.
“Will we see you this weekend for dinner?” she asked, and I heard Jared muttering, rooting around in the fridge behind her.
“I’ve got work and class and schoolwork to deal with. I’ll call, okay? I want to see Cody.”
“Of course. I love you.” I leaned down, hugged her close, and inhaled the light perfume she always wore that reminded me of home.
“Just let me know if you need anything,” I added.
“I’ve got her. She’s not going to need anything from you, boy.”
I glared over my mom’s head at Jared, and his hands fisted at his sides as he took a step forward. My mother patted my chest and gently pushed me away.
She could have outright slapped me, and it would have hurt less. There was nothing I could do. She was happy. Jared didn’t hurt her. He just hated me.
I nodded at them both and then headed out to my truck. It was old and a little battered, but it got me through.
If I hadn’t had to send money back home or use it to pay for my astronomically expensive schooling, then perhaps I’d be able to afford a better truck, considering what I made while stripping.
However, the money didn’t stay with me.
I pulled onto the highway, dealt with the five o’clock traffic, and cursed myself. I hadn’t been thinking. I should have taken the side roads, but here I was, my anger mounting with each passing moment, sitting on the highway and letting my truck overheat even in the chilly weather.
Denver traffic was horrendous, and no matter what I did, I-25 at any corridor was Satan’s playhouse.
I pulled into the driveway and noticed mine was the only vehicle here. The guys were either at work or out, and I was a little grateful for that. Anger rode me. And, frankly, I felt a little mean right now. It was as if Jared’s nastiness rubbed off on me every time I was over there. I just needed to flick it off before I dealt with my roommates.
I hadn’t seen any of them since I’d run into Natalie at the club the night before, and I honestly wasn’t sure what to do if they saw me, and I realized they knew.
I shouldn’t be ashamed of what I did. It paid the bills, and a lot of people were strippers. Yet my friends didn’t need to strip for money to pay for their schooling. They had honest, hardworking jobs that didn’t have anything to do with the way they shook their hips or how their dicks filled out their booty shorts.
No, they all worked hard and didn’t have to be me. Didn’t have to do what I did.
I didn’t know why, but I hated myself just a little bit more because of that.
While I wanted to trust that Natalie wouldn’t tell them what she had seen—after all, she hadn’t told them about anything between us before—I was still worried.
Now that one person knew, everyone else might know, too. Wasn’t that the way it always worked? It was hard to keep secrets in our small group.
I made my way into the kitchen and frowned at the note on the fridge.
It wasn’t addressed to me per se, but it was still a to-do list.
Not things needing handyman skills in our house, considering Pacey’s family owned it, and he took care of it. No, this was for the girls’ house. Their landlord was a piece of shit and never took care of anything.
Anger mounting, I took the to-do list from the fridge and figured that since I already had my tools out, I should just deal with it.
Maybe Natalie would be there, and I could make sure she kept her mouth shut.
Or perhaps I could get my mouth on hers again.
I cursed at myself and headed to my truck. I could walk there, but I had more tools in the bed, so I would just deal with parking near their place.
I had a key to their house, just like all the girls had access to ours. Honestly, it was becoming a little too Brady Bunch for me, given how things kept overlapping. However, everyone was seeing one another, so I guessed it made sense.
As for Natalie and me? A few stolen kisses and some glances when no one was looking? That didn’t mean much.
She just wanted to cross those train tracks and figure out what it felt like on the other side. Maybe I would let her do it. Just to see.
It wasn’t fair that Natalie constantly filled my dreams and made my dick so hard it was difficult to walk in the mornings.
No, I wouldn’t think too hard about her. Instead, I would fix her damn house, make sure she kept her mouth shut, and pretend that I didn’t want her more than my next breath.
I knew who I was. I was the kid with no money, a shady past, and one who took his clothes off for a living.
I didn’t get the privileged princess—the one with the fancy bags and the nice car.