P.S. I Hate You, page 9
“Ellie was holding the signs,” Troy adds, and I scowl. I’d rather not be remembered as the girl in the hideous American flag bikini.
But Robbie’s eyes glitter over. “Oh yeah.” He throws his head back, sucking down the last of his drink. “That was an off night.”
Troy laughs. “Yeah, because you got your ass kicked.”
Robbie elbows him away. “Shut up, man. I’d like to see your skinny ass go up against Wilder instead of those pansies they match you with. Besides, the guy cheated.”
My pulse picks up speed. I don’t know anything about MMA, but from what I saw, it looked like Jace beat him fair and square. “Cheated how?”
“Guy’s full of so much HGH, I’m surprised he hasn’t turned into the Incredible Hulk.”
I look up at Troy. “HGH?”
Jarett answers first. “Human growth hormones. Word is, the coach feeds Wilder full of ’em. That’s how he stays undefeated.”
“And hot,” Cora chimes in, and the other two girls giggle.
“Yeah, if you’re into poor rednecks,” Pete adds with a laugh, but I find nothing about this conversation amusing.
I cross my arms, holding my cup against my chest. I should do something about this information, but what? Should I confront him about it? Say something to Cindy? I’m not exactly a fan of Jace Wilder, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him endanger himself.
“Speak of the fuckin’ devil,” Ben mumbles.
We all turn toward the direction of his stare. A gasp rattles in my throat. Jace’s pickup careens into an opening on the other side of the clearing, followed by another, then another. One by one, they all appear, Hell's Bend kids tumbling down from dusty cabs, cranking wild rock and roll over the sound of smooth country.
Adrenaline courses through my blood. I step behind the wall of Troy’s friends, hoping to go unseen, but it’s too late. I feel his gaze through the fire, so hot I swear it burns. We lock eyes, but I look away first. “We should go.”
Troy gives my hand a squeeze. “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah,” Pete says. “Long as they stay on their side where they belong.”
Yeah, except this is not The Outsiders and I’m not Cherry Valance. These groups may be oil and water, but I’m the one who has to pay the price. While they get to go back to their quiet lives on the edge of town, I’m the one tormented day in and day out with no reprieve.
I take a strong sip of my beer and swallow it down, a little liquid courage to get me through the night. It isn’t long before I find myself holding an empty cup. Troy gets me a refill, then another. Fingertips numb, my head light, I allow my worries to evaporate into the air like the smoke from Jace’s cigarettes.
The humid night prickles my skin. I lean forward, letting my hair waterfall down to twist it into a knot atop my head. A cold trickle hits my back. I snap to attention, my gaze darting around the surrounding area. The blurred view of my safety net looks farther away than it should. My pulse picks up to the deafening beat of loud rock music. I hear the blood in my veins pump hard and fast. I somehow crossed over to the other side, toeing the line between security and certain death, and they pounced the moment I breached.
Beer drips into my shorts, but I reel back my urge to punch Darla’s ugly face into meat. I’m surrounded by her friends, one of me versus all of them. “I’m not looking for trouble tonight. Why don’t we just go back to our sides and stay away from each other?”
“You hear that, guys? Barbie’s not looking for trouble,” she whines, stomping her foot in a mock tantrum.
My gaze travels to Jace, silently begging him to step in and save me, but he merely takes a pull off his cigarette, watching me quiver in fear. A puppet master pulling Darla’s strings for his own amusement. “What is your problem with me? You worried I’m competition for you?”
Callous laughter ripples around me, but Darla’s lips quiver with rage. She throws a bottle blond curl over her shoulder in a huff. “Competition? Please.”
“I’ve done nothing to warrant this kind of hatred from you. If you got to know me —“
“I don’t want to get to know you, bitch!” Her voice echoes, then suddenly, I’m on the ground.
Hands tear at my hair as my back is dragged against the hard dirt. I kick my legs, holding my skull to keep from being scalped. My foot makes contact with something. I hear a grunt, then a thud, but my fight-or-flight response doesn’t take a minute to survey the damage. I scramble to my feet and run.
Troy’s voice echoes after me, but the adrenaline pumping in my veins propels me forward. I don’t care about anything else right now. All I want to do is get away.
But a strong hand pulls me back. I twist on my heel, jamming the butt of my palm into my assailant's nose. Once I’ve blinked the fog from my brain, I realize what I’ve done. “Oh my gosh.”
Troy doubles over. I lift my arms to comfort him, but he shrugs me off. “What the fuck, Ellie?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“I followed you out here to make sure you were okay.” He stares at his fingers to make sure there’s no blood. “You obviously can handle yourself.”
My anxiety melts away, and embarrassment blooms in its place. I press my hands to his cheeks. “Are you alright?”
He rolls his eyes. “Are you?”
I nod, but tears brim in my eyes like an unstoppable force. They breach the dam and pour down my face. The more I wipe, the more appear. “Except I hate it here, and I want to go home.”
Troy’s expression softens. “I’m sorry. I know, it’s been a lot for you.”
Twigs crunch under my feet as I turn away. “No, you don’t know. You have no idea. They torture me. I’m a target for all the vitriol they spew. I want to be strong. I try to rise above, but look at me.” I pull what’s left of the knot from my hair and smooth it down. “I’m not strong enough to withstand this kind of hate.”
“El…” He takes me in his arms, his heart beating in my ear. “No one is. Coming here was my bad, alright? We don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”
“Can we just stay here for a minute?”
“Of course.” His voice mumbles at the crown of my head. He drops a kiss on my part, then leads me to a fallen tree so I can sit.
“The worst part is, I thought I’d be able to feel her presence lingering, but she’s not here. She must have taken it with her when she left.”
Troy cocks his head. “Who?”
“My mother.” I use the hem of my shirt to wipe my face, then meet his gaze. “She grew up in Hell's Bend. She’s one of them.” I say it as if the taste of the word is bitter on my tongue.
He blanches. “Seriously?”
“I just wanted to learn where she came from, but this place …”
Another round of emotion gets lodged in my throat. Troy touches my face, thumbing away my pain as it falls. Far from the clearing, the sounds of the party give way to the trilling of insects. Moonlight shines down on Troy’s sandy hair and picks up the color in his eyes, darkening it to a mossy green. He lowers his head and finds my lips.
A sharp breath hits my lungs. His tongue slides over my teeth, looking for entry between them as his gentle hold slides to the back of my head.
A small moan breaks from my chest, but it doesn’t feel right. A first kiss is magical. It’s supposed to light you up with dancing fireflies behind your closed lids, but Troy’s sweet assault on my mouth is nothing like that. It’s a good kiss, yet it doesn’t set my heart ablaze the way I’d hoped.
When his hands dip below my shirt, I push them off, but he doesn’t take the hint. He comes at me harder, pressing into me with his heavy weight, the remaining tree branches poking into my back.
The remains of the beer still flood my system. I claw at his back, but he seems to misunderstand my actions for want. He doesn’t let up. His hands roam my body in places I’m not ready to be touched.
I slip my arms between our bodies and push. He flies backward as if I’m the star of a ninja movie. Confusion sets in, but as I collect my senses, I realize it wasn’t me that pushed him off at all.
Troy lies in the leaves as a dark figure hovers over him, his massive chest expanding. “Jace?”
His name flutters off my tongue and gets caught in my belly, a ramble of wings beating about. He turns toward the sound, his eyes shining like diamonds in the night. “Are you a fucking dumbass?” He swings around and takes a step in my direction, his fists balling at his sides and his expression twisted with ire. “You tryin’ to get fuckin’ raped out here? No nevermind. If you’re stupid enough to come out here by yourself, then you get what you deserve.”
For the first time, I notice the girl huddling in the background. He snatches her by the hand, stares down at Troy, and gives him a solid kick to the ribs before stomping off into the blackened woods.
I push from the trunk and cross my arms over my chest. “I want to go home.”
Troy offers an incredulous look before rising to his feet. “That’s all you have to say about what just happened?”
I jerk my head back. “What am I supposed to say?”
A trickle of blood leaks from his lip. He swipes it away with the back of his hand. “Your boy Jace swoops in like a goddamn werewolf, then screams in your face, and you have nothing to say?”
I narrow my gaze. “First of all, Jace is not my boy. Second, he’s not wrong. You were pushing me too hard.”
A dark cloud passes over his face. He stomps toward me. “Pushing you too hard? Have I made a single move on you before now?”
My stomach flips. I swallow the saliva building on my tongue. “No, but…”
“But what?” he snaps. “You wanna take things slow. I’ve respected that, have I not?”
The fight drains out of me. “Yes.”
He lowers his tone and takes me by the arms. The sweet Troy I’ve gotten to know returns before my eyes. “I’m sorry if you found me aggressive. You make it really hard to hold back.”
Guilt clogs my throat. He’s taken me out, showered me with gifts, and never expected anything in return. Most guys would have dropped me after day three — trust me, I speak from experience — but Troy has been patient and kind. I don’t want to fight with him.
“I’m sorry, too.”
When he pulls me in, I sag against his chest, but it offers little comfort. Tonight was a disaster on so many levels, and it’s not over yet. It’s time for Jace and me to have a little chat.
***
The crunching gravel outside my window alerts me of Jace’s arrival. I swipe my phone screen to check the time. It’s 2:00 a.m. Rubbing my eyes, I kick my legs over the edge of my bed. I’ll never get any sleep if I don’t get this off my chest. Every time I close my eyes, I can't get his face out of my mind. His eyes roiled with lust and hate, but something peeking beneath their piercing gaze offers more questions than answers: jealousy.
The back door creaks open as I pad out into the hall. Jace steps quietly into his room. I’m not looking for confrontation or a fight. I’m merely searching for answers, yet my stomach tightens as I stand on the other side of his door. Jace is unpredictable. I could be walking toward the guillotine if his mood is wrong. With my heart in my throat, I knock.
Tingles sweep down my spine when the door swings open. In the time it took me to get from my room to his, he managed to take off his shirt and swap his jeans for a pair of nylon shorts. “What do you want?”
The last remnants of tonight’s buzz still swim in my veins. I shuffle from foot to foot, smothering the fire slowly brewing deep within. “Can we talk?”
He lifts his arm and leans on the doorframe. “About what?”
I blow out a heavy breath. “Can I come in, or do you want to come out?”
Without giving a verbal answer, he pushes the door open and steps farther into his room. I take it as an invitation.
“What was that tonight?”
A low growl rattles in his chest before rippling up in the form of words. “What was what?”
My knees tremble in his presence. I’ve never been great at conflict, but things can’t continue the way they’re going. I lean against the wall and cross my arms over my chest, shielding my heart from I’m not sure what. “Are you on drugs?”
The question catches him off guard. For a split second, he stands quiet, his lashes flapping over crystal-blue eyes. “What are you? A narc?”
I square my shoulders. “That guy Robbie. He said you’re taking HGH to win fights. Is it true?”
A band of laughter snaps between us. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” He steps toward me, cocking his head, his eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, princess, but no. I don’t need ’roids to beat pansies like Robbie. But if you’re interested in illegal pharmaceuticals, maybe you should talk to your dipshit boyfriend.”
He turns his back to me, but I’m not finished. It’s been weeks, and nothing has changed. I’m tired of being afraid and tiptoeing around him. It’s time to lay it all out and let the chips land where they may. “Troy told me about your history. You were friends once.”
When he whips in my direction, his razor-sharp gaze slices clear through me. “I was never friends with that piece of shit.”
“He said you robbed him.”
A look of amusement crosses his face. "Robbed him? What the fuck could that rich bitch have to offer me? I don't need shit from him, and I sure as hell don't need your accusations." He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. "For your information, princess, he was the one stealin’ shit from his folks. I was just the scapegoat."
"Is that true?"
A dash of hurt streaks through the anger clouding his gaze. "What's it matter to you? You fuckin’ rich people stick together, and you’re all the same. You think your money gives you the right to do and say whatever the hell you want with no fault for your actions while the rest of us pay the consequences.”
“You don’t even know me. How dare you make a snap judgment based on how I was born? I would never do that to you.”
"Bullshit, Ellie. You did, and you know it. Did you see the shit you wore the first fucking day? You had wealth written across your forehead and couldn’t fucking wait to show it off. Now you’re cattin’ around with that shit-for-brains daddy’s boy, lettin’ him fill your head with lies while you eat ’em all up with your silver spoon.”
"You know what you are? A hypocrite. You judging me because I came from money is the same thing as them judging you because you don’t. You’re no better than anyone else, Jace."
I’ve seen the ugly side of wealth—I lived through it—but I never considered myself one of those airhead socialites who define themselves by what they have. I’m a good person, and I’m not going to stand here and allow myself to be stereotyped as one of those heartless few with money to throw around.
“You’re so fuckin’ blind.”
I throw my arms open. “Oh yeah? Then open my eyes.”
He invades my space. The riot in my chest only grows louder the closer he gets. He grasps my shoulders and pushes my back against the wall. Heat falls off his body in waves, his breath beating against my lips in violent whisps. “Mark my words: Troy’s a predator, Ellie. Don’t be his prey.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?” My voice comes out as a wavering whisper. I press my palms to the wall to keep from sliding down and puddling at Jace’s feet.
The smell of smoke wafts around him, but my eyes fixate on the burning flame in his steely gaze. A messed-up mix of hate and rage, lust and longing that makes me shiver. “It’s your funeral,” he growls, his mouth so close I could rise to my toes and taste it if I wanted to.
“You know what I think?” I press my lips together to steady the tremble before continuing. “Your anger is a mask. You’re just as bad as Troy, except instead of using money to get what you want, you use fear.”
His nostrils flare. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, letting my head fall back so I can meet his blazing stare. “But I’m not afraid of you, Jace. You’re just a big mamma’s boy crying on the inside because the big kids don’t want to invite you to play.”
“I ain’t interested in playin’ ’less I know I can win.” His snarl is low and evil. It radiates through my body, turning it to liquid. He wraps his long fingers around my neck, stealing a gasp from my lungs and replacing it with a feral need so fierce I can taste it. He wants me to be afraid. He gets off knowing I find him intimidating, but instead, he lifts a brow, watching me as I come undone. He leans in, hot breath feathering my ear as his free hand glides up my thigh. “You still a virgin, princess?”
“That’s none of your business.” I square my shoulders, trying to seem bold, but my feisty exterior crumbles the moment his thumb sweeps across the apex of my thighs. Chills slither down my spine, but the rest of me is so warm I’m boiling.
“I bet ole Troy hasn’t seen you tremblin’ like this, has he?” Another brush and my knees buckle.
I wrap my hand around his wrist. “Please stop,” I beg, but my hips arch against his knuckle.
He skims his nose up my cheek, his smile growing against my skin. I hate myself for letting him get to me like this. I’m a panting fool, melting against his light touch like an ice cream cone in the sun, and he’s lapping it up with delight.
But he listens to my plea and drops his hold, yet keeps me caged in by his thick arms on either side. Conflict streaks across his face. For the first time, I see it head-on—desire.
A wisp of cool air blows across my burning skin as he steps back. I sag against the wall to catch my breath. “Go back to your room, Ellie.”
Anger swirls in the lust fogging my vision. Why is he trying so hard to push me away? I don’t understand. “We’re not done.”
A sinister expression twists his features. “I’m not only done talkin’ to you, I’m tired of lookin’ at you. Everywhere I go, there’s fuckin’ Ellie! I can’t even sneak off to get laid at a party without you gettin’ in my way.”
Hurt clenches my heart, as he shakes his head and turns away. I try to make sense of what just happened, but his heated gaze turns into something twisted and ugly. A hard, mean exterior marring the face of the guy I know he’s hiding inside. He’s fighting a secret battle within himself, and I just can’t figure out why.
