Untamed Page 10

  Joel shifts in front of me, running a hand through his hair. He looks over at me and I don’t recognize his expression. He’s someplace else in his head. “Why ya actin’ like such a bitch?”

  I sigh heavily, then say, “I’m only a bitch because you want something I won’t give you. Find someone else.” The burn of the wind in my eyes surfaces tears. I blink them away, holding onto the fact that maybe this won’t hurt forever. Of course, if anyone asks what’s wrong, I’ll simply blame the watering eyes on the bonfire smoke blowing toward me. Deep down, I know my heart’s still in such a state of flux. A state that causes me to go after the wrong sort of attention. It’s my defense mechanism that’s keeping me going. It’s all I know how to do.

  “Oh, bullshit. Ever since yesterday you’ve been actin’ crazy.”

  I won’t be that girl anymore. The one in the arms of liars, doing things I shouldn’t and being someone I’m not. Liars who will tell me how beautiful I am, how amazing I am, how perfect I am just to satisfy their own needs. They need me for that. For guys like Joel, I’m a scratch to their itch and then forgotten until the next need arises.

  “Ever since yesterday you’ve been actin’ crazy.” I guess there’s some truth there. This hasn’t seemed to bother me as much as it does now, until last night, until Grayer Easton sparked something more inside me. I can’t. Or I won’t be that girl anymore. I look over my shoulder to see if he’s still here. Eight Seconds gives me hope in those diamond eyes burning so bright.

  “Leave me alone, Joel.” Standing, I move away from him. I refuse to let guys like Joel destroy me anymore.

  Pouring clear liquid into mason jars, I kick back near the fire again with Clint Black blaring through the outdoor speakers. Despite my refusal, Joel comes to sit next to me. “Jesus Christ.” I throw my arms up in the air. “How do you not fucking get it? You’re like a goddamn dog. I told you no,” I remind him. “Go away.”

  Joel is cocky sometimes and it’s more of the high school football jock attitude than him being confident. He’s hot, and he knows it. With him being Jamie’s twin brother, I’ll admit that I’d had a thing for Joel, wanted more, until I saw who he was on the inside. He was the evil twin for sure. And for that, he doesn’t even compare to someone like Grayer Easton.

  Joel knows this and reacts accordingly when I tell him no and my eyes drift to Grayer.

  He knows this because while he’s begging me to go to his room, my eyes are watching Grayer.

  Knocking his hand to my knee, he gives a disgusted nod to Grayer. “You fuckin’ that guy now? Is that why?”

  I close my eyes and breathe slowly. I look at him, glowering. “You didn’t listen to anything I said, did you?”

  He’s not done playing with me yet. “You think he cares? He’ll be onto the next buckle bunny before you even swallow.”

  I want to drive my fist through his head, but I’ve punched a guy before. Third grade. Broke my damn hand. So I don’t and look to the one across the fire. Grayer’s glare shifts to Joel, the chaos in his head so very clear with his jaw set in anger. It’s easy to see Grayer’s pissed by his tensed body and the tightening of his jaw. There’s a condescending smirk on Grayer’s face, as threatening as it is promising. He looks at me, as if he wants to say something. He doesn’t. I chew on my lip as worry settles in my gut.

  I’m not looking for revenge with Joel. I’m looking for me and I’m never going to find that with Joel. I may not with Grayer either. But there’s something rooted deep inside me when I look at Grayer. It’s like a reawakening of something that’s been long gone, and I don’t know, it’s almost invigorating to be near him.

  My brain and heart are playing tug-of-war with my emotions. At one end of the rope is Joel, and the life I thought I was destined for. On the other end, Grayer, and the life I could have. One where anything is possible. And I’m getting yanked and pulled around at their reactions to each other.

  Leaning forward, Joel taps my leg, his arrogant glower shifting to Grayer because he knows it’ll conjure a reaction from one of us. “Should I fuck you against the truck? Let everyone around here see who you really belong to.”

  I’ll never belong to you.

  Squinting, my eyes drift across the fire to Grayer, only to whisper to Joel, “I don’t belong to you, Joel. You’re with Violet. She belongs to you. I have never ever belonged to you.”

  Words, my rebuttal, they mean absolutely nothing to him. Deep down I knew it all along, but every part of me wanted to believe he was like Jamie, because that’s who I was holding onto. Joel snorts, noticing my stare is inadvertently drawn to only one man. He notices the way Grayer’s looking at me, too.

  Grayer’s relaxed. At least it appears that way, but if you look closer, dig deeper, he’s not. He’s tense, uptight, looking for a fight. I know his kind pretty well by now. Lifting his cup to his lips, just about to take a drink of his beer, Grayer’s eyes land on Joel’s grip.

  Something changes in both their demeanors, like the shifting of the wind sparked a fire in both of them. I can see it, the flexing of their muscles, the change in their breathing, the crazy look in their eyes, it’s rage fueling tempers.

  Oh, shit. My eyes snap to the distance, where Haylee’s talking to some chick, but her attention’s on me and what’s about to happen. Everyone around us senses the tension rising.

  Joel, he loves to taunt people. It’s something he did with Jamie when they were little. Their mom always teased that Jamie cut off the circulation to Joel and made him mean. And it’s true. There’s so much anger inside him—he’s always ready to start a fight. Always looking to prove something. It’s like he has to prove himself when challenged.

  Joel’s hand goes higher, between my legs and cups my crotch over my jean shorts. “Come on, you know you want to. That’s why you showed up here tonight. Why else would you come here?”

  Standing, I dump my drink on him. “You touch me again and I’ll rip your fucking dick off.” I nod to Haylee, my eyes wide, ready to tell her we’re leaving. I take a step toward the house and Joel grabs my hand, glaring at the wetness covering his shirt. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

  I rip my arm away. “The fuck I can’t. You don’t own me.”

  Grayer tosses his cup into the fire and walks toward Joel and me, his eyes low and on the ground until he’s in front of me, and then they’re on mine and he lines up beside me. His eyes rake over me. I feel naked. My spine tingles when I hear his voice.

  “Let’s go, Maesyn,” Grayer demands, reaching for my hand, bloodshot eyes returning. He looks tired, sure, but it’s the pure vulnerability and anguish plastered across his face that has me taking his hand. It’s as if he wants to rescue me from myself. I want to take his hand and beg him to run away with me. I want to whisper, Save me from this life I can’t seem to escape. Take me far away from Ellensburg.

  Something breaks inside me. I want to curl against him and lose myself in his strong arms. Our eyes lock and with one look at him I want to ask a million questions I don’t want the answers to.

  “She’s busy,” Joel says, ignoring him. His hand moves and reaches for my other hand, tugging me toward him. “Get lost, stud.”

  Stud? What a brat.

  I don’t let go of Grayer’s hand. I can’t. I won’t. It’s too warm. I want to hold it forever. My lashes flutter and I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m embarrassed.

  “What’s the matter there, Easton . . . couldn’t stay on for more than eight seconds?” Joel asks, his body stiffening, but he finally lets go of my hand. Tipping his head toward Grayer in a cocky manner, he stands. “Must be why you came lookin’ for her again.” His dark eyes move over me, lingering between my legs. “It’s why I keep coming back for more. It’s pretty fucking good.”

  I watch Grayer, steady breaths and a strain not so discrete. Gritted teeth and desperate to remain unaffected, that remark doesn’t get Grayer to even look in Joel’s direction. It’s the next remark that yanks me closer to Grayer�
��s side.

  It’s when Joel asks Grayer, “Lookin’ for a re-ride or somethin’?”

  Grayer’s entire body tenses and he doesn’t make a move for a minute, an internal debate maybe. His dark side brings out the blackness in my choices. Shadows fill my empty heart.

  Letting go of my hand, he gives me a gentle push back away from them, and then takes a step toward Joel, who doesn’t even register the threat.

  With surprising speed, and an incredible display of fucking hotness, Grayer grabs hold of Joel and shoves him backward, hard. “Nothin’ to say now, huh?” Then, before Joel can respond, Grayer punches him square on the jaw and then again, but Joel turns his head and the punch lands on his eye. It all happens so fast even I don’t see the punch before Joel is struggling around, trying to get an angle.

  Grayer only gets another few swings in when the crowd pulls them apart.

  “Where ya think you’re going, fucker!” Joel spits blood to the side, running the back of his hand over his bleeding mouth. Shoving Danny aside, he tries to get back at Grayer.

  Grayer shakes his head. “Touch her again and I’ll break your fuckin’ face, you piece of shit. Leave her alone.”

  His nearness overwhelms. I’m rooted here, next to him, his harsh breathing the only sound filling my heart with a hopeful outcome I don’t deserve.

  “Who in the fuck do you think you are coming into town like you own her?” Joel shouts, reaching over Danny, and now Kade. “Her knight in shining armor here to protect her.” He laughs, looking to his buddies. They’re stone-faced. Expressionless as the one beside me.

  Grayer flicks his hand to me. His exhale deep, eyes searching. He holds my gaze, gauging my reactions. “Do you want him?” he shouts, eyes shifting, alight with anger. He waits, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head. He steps closer, shading me in his shadow. No sound, no excitement. He lingers, I burn. I capture his eyes, but I’m not quick enough to hold them. “I’m pretty sure I heard you tell him ‘no’ more than once.”

  I shake my head, tears pooling in my eyes.

  His face is expressionless. The weight of a thousand seconds pass between us. It’s his eyes that tell me a story and burst to life inside me. Oh, how I want this rush. But then the harshness of him returns. “Then stop hanging around here. I’m fucking serious. Stay away from him,” he spits, throwing his hands up and walking away from me.

  “I will,” I vow, unsure what to say, my voice lost in his dismissal. I want his voice, his touch, but not the reality of his words.

  I’m not sure what just happened and I’m not sure anyone else does either. He brushes past Haylee, who gapes at him with wide-eyes, just as unsure as me as to what just happened.

  I look to Joel, spitting blood and cursing the space Grayer filled. He watches me, his eyes a constant reminder of Jamie.

  “What in the hell did I miss?” Haylee asks, rushing over to me, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. I look past her, over her shoulder trying to see where Grayer is going, but I can’t make out his figure within the crowd. “I thought he didn’t want anything to do with jailbait?”

  I take her cigarette from her, inhaling, deciding on how I want to answer that. I take a breath, the voices of the party dying off. “Apparently, defending jailbait is different.”

  I don’t look at anyone as we leave and they’re definitely staring. It’s like walking through a crowd naked. “He thinks I came here with a purpose.”

  Her glossy eyes expand like saucers. “What?”

  My throat’s thick, words forced out and trembling. I look around, the air still filled with smoke and embers. I want to float away with them, get lost and vanish into oblivion. “To tempt Joel. He thinks I’m a slut.”

  “Hush your mouth. Are you serious.” I give her no doubt. I’m unsure myself. She stares, waits for me to tell her otherwise, then settles on unbelieving. “Whatevs. Did he actually say that?”

  “No. Not really, maybe . . . sorta.” I shrug. When we’re in the driveway, he’s gone. “Let’s go.”

  She waves toward her truck. “Oh, please. You can be at a party and not be a slut.”

  She has a point. I shouldn’t feel guilty about coming here. I never once gave Joel the indication I wanted him.

  Haylee and I leave the party and hit up our favorite late night taco truck. We can always count on tacos to cheer us up.

  “I’d like fifteen tacos, chicken, no hot sauce,” Haylee tells Ramirez, the cook we’ve befriended.

  Knowing she’s not serious, Ramirez smiles. “Chicka, you seriously gonna eat fifteen?”

  Haylee plays it well and motions to her so petite body. “Do I look like I can eat fifteen?”

  “Nah.” Ramirez leans into the stainless counter, winking at her.

  “Fine. Give me three.”

  With stares from bystanders, whistles and degrading comments whispered under their breaths, I order the same. We stand in line, waiting for our tacos. Around us, college boys watch and try to get our attention. Ellensburg on a Friday night is teeming with college kids, most of whom are looking for a good time. They don’t care whether you’re in high school or college, whatever. If there’s grass on the field, you’re fair game.

  Maybe it’s the thought of my age, but that’s when it really hits me how much Grayer’s getting to me. My heart aches, lives, lies with someone I just met. I lay my head on Haylee’s shoulder. “Dude, he rolls into town and bam, swoon me. Now I can’t stop thinking about him. Who the hell am I?”

  “I know the feeling.” She’s been here before . . . with Tucker. It’s tough to tell yourself you don’t want something when you know deep down, you’re out of control with want and scared to give your heart because it’s all you have. Laughing lightly, Haylee pulls out another cigarette. She doesn’t light it. “This doesn’t change anything, does it?”

  I force a smile, more for her benefit. “What? No. We’re still leaving the day I turn eighteen. I promise.” I gesture up the street to the Ellensburg Pasta Company where her mom works. “What’s your mom gonna say about you leaving town?”

  Haylee sighs, soul-tethered, heart-tugging. “She’ll be fine. She’s got college boys drooling over her now.”

  “Were her and your dad happy?”

  She doesn’t say anything. Not at first. You know that look people get when they’re remembering the beautiful parts of their life? The moments that made them truly happy? That’s the look Haylee has. She gets it whenever she talks about her dad, or remembers him. “They were.”

  “What do you think made her leave then?”

  “You mean after he died?” I nod. Haylee shifts her body, turning to face me. “After he died, I think she just realized they’d planned for a future and it was taken away from her. She just sorta freaked out and needed a fresh start.”

  I understood that. I hadn’t lost a husband, but I lost Jamie, and I knew what it was like to be so unsure about your future to want to run and see where it left you.

  I think back to Grayer at the party, and the look on his face when he said, “Then stop hanging around here.”

  Be careful, heart, you’re falling for baby blues and rough edges.

  When the chute gate opens on the left side (to the bull rider's left).

  I pull my hair. I hit my head with open hands. Why am I acting like this?

  Because you need to get laid. It’s been like a month.

  That wasn’t exactly avoiding her, was it?

  I’m a dad now. I can’t be getting wrapped up in the bullshit drama. Seventeen. She’s seventeen.

  I can remind myself of that repeatedly, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting her and the need to make sure she’s safe. It’s a draw I can’t explain.

  And I’m back to the need to avoid her. Goddamn her and those pleading innocent provoking eyes. I’ve never been able to resist that look.

  Pulling out of the Petersons’ place, I swear to myself that’s the last party I’ll go to. And I wouldn’t have even been here if it hadn’t
been for Dani and Kade convincing me to go see some of my old buddies.

  Four days and I’m gone. Out of this goddamn town. I blame Mel’s hole. I think I said I’d tell you a story about that hole in the ground, that I’d tell you later. That time is now. My first girlfriend. Tessa Lynn Sutter. I loved that girl, as much as any seven-year-old can love something and wish for it to be forever.

  One night, my brother Reid, and this kid we hung out with, Aryan, and I were out near Mel’s hole messing around, doing things boys do, like throwing rocks, sticks . . . you get the point. Anyway, I made a wish, a stupid one, that little Tessa Lynn would love me back. I don’t even know why I made the wish. Probably because she wanted nothing to do with me. I think I told you she was my girlfriend, but clearly the term “girlfriend” was only used by me because she wanted nothing to do with my ornery self. I wasn’t the nicest kid. I purposely did shit to piss people off just to see what they’d do.

  Anyway, I wished Tessa would love me and threw a rock in the hole. Reid laughed at me and said I was cursed now. Aryan said I’d be haunted by love my entire life. Motherfuckers were right.

  I was seven and refused to believe it, but that goddamn wish proved to be fucking true.

  Let’s forget about the I’m cursed part and focus on the present. I can’t get this chick out of my head. It’s like she’s rooted herself there and now she’s infecting my thoughts, her warmth swallowing me whole. It’s not her looks. No, I would have fallen with my eyes closed.

  I’m broken and it’s the way it is. It doesn’t stop me from thinking about her with a fistful of my bedsheets, whispering my name with pink cheeks and breathless curses I evoke within her. She’s too young. Too inexperienced, and I’m not going to be the man to ruin her. I’m reckless enough to believe I can stay away from her, but she’s so sure, so certain of the idea of us and undeniably innocent.

  In other words, I’m goddamn fucked. With an uncontrolled mind and unsteady resolve, I drive to my dad’s house and I sit in the dark. With a bottle in hand, boots scraping against the wood floors, I move through the living room and into the den where my dad spent most of his Sunday afternoons. I don’t bother turning on any lights in the house I grew up in because it’s for the better. I don’t even want to look at myself.