Until You

Chapter 1

6 Years Later …

The blood spills over my bottom lip and onto the floor like a long strip of red paint. I let it pool in my mouth until it dribbles out, since everything hurts too damn much to spit.

“Dad, please,” I beg, my voice shaking as my body shivers from the fear.

My mom was right. He’s a bad man, and I wish I’d never talked her into letting me spend the summer with him.

I kneel on his kitchen floor, shaking, with my hands tied behind my back. The itchy rope bites into my skin.

“Are you begging, you little pussy?” he snarls, and the strap whips my back again.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing, as fire spreads across my shoulder blades. Closing my mouth, I try not to make any noise as I breathe through my nose until the burning fades away. The skin on my lips feels stretched and swollen, and the slippery metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

Tate.

Her face flashes in my mind, and I crawl back into my head where she is. Where we are together. Her sunshine hair floats on the wind as we climb the rocks around the fish pond. I always climb behind her in case she stumbles. Her stormy blue eyes smile down at me.

But my father breaks through. “You don’t beg! You don’t apologize! That’s what I get for letting that cunt raise you all these years. Nothing but a coward now. That’s what you are.”

My head jerks back and my scalp stings as he yanks me by my hair to meet his eyes. My stomach rolls when I smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath.

“At least Jax listens,” he grits out, and my stomach shakes from the nausea. “Isn’t that right, Jax?” he yells over his shoulder.

My father releases me and walks over to the deep freezer in the corner of the kitchen and pounds twice on the lid. “You still alive in there?”

Every nerve in my face fires with pain as I try to hold back tears. I don’t want to cry or scream, but Jax, my father’s other son, has been in the freezer for almost ten minutes. Ten whole minutes and not making a sound!

Why is my father doing this? Why is he punishing Jax when he’s mad at me?

But I stay quiet, because that’s how he likes his kids. If he gets what he wants, maybe he’ll let my brother out. He has to be freezing in there, and I don’t know if he has enough air. How long can someone survive in a freezer? Maybe he’s already dead.

God, he’s just a little kid! I blink back the tears. Please, please, please…

“So…” My father walks over to his girlfriend Sherilynn, a crazy-haired crack head, and his friend Gordon, a fucking creepy ass lowlife who looks at me weird.

Both sit at the kitchen table enjoying whatever drug is on the menu today, not paying any attention to what is going on with the two helpless kids in the room.

“What do y’all think?” My father puts a hand on each of their shoulders. “How are we gonna teach my boy to be a man?”

I jerked awake, my pulse pounding in my neck and head. A drop of sweat glided over my shoulder, and I blinked, seeing my own room and walls come into view.

It’s okay. I breathed hard. They’re not here. It was just a dream.

I was in my own house. My father wasn’t here. Gordon and Sherilynn were long gone.

Everything’s okay.

But I always had to make sure.

My eyelids were heavy as fuck, but I sat up and hurriedly scanned the room. The morning light blared through my window like an air horn, and I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the painful rays.

The shit on my dresser had been shoved to the floor, but it wasn’t unusual for me to make a mess when I was wasted. Other than some disarray, the room was quiet and safe.

I let out a long breath and inhaled again, trying to slow down my heart as I continued looking left to right. It wasn’t until I’d made a full circle that my eyes finally rested on the lump next to me under the covers. Ignoring the ache between my eyes from the alcohol the night before, I peeled the blanket back to see who I was dumb enough—or drunk enough—to let spend the whole night at my house.

Great.

Another fucking blonde.

What the hell was I thinking?

Blondes weren’t my thing. They always looked like good girls. Not exotic or even remotely interesting. Too pure.

They looked like the girl-next-door type.

And who really wanted that?

But the last few days—when the nightmares had started again—all I’d wanted were blondes. It was like I had some sick pull to self-destruct over the one blonde I loved to hate.

But…I had to admit, the girl was hot. Her skin looked smooth, and she had nice tits. I think she’d said something about being home for the summer from Purdue. I don’t think I told her about me being sixteen and still in high school. Maybe I’d spring that on her when she woke up. Just for kicks.

I leaned my head back, in too much pain to even smile at the image of her freak out.

“Jared?” My mother knocked, and I jerked my head up, cringing.

My head throbbed like someone had stuck a fork in it all night, and I did not want to deal with her right now. But I hopped off the bed anyway and headed for the door before the girl next to me stirred. Opening it just a little, I eyed my mother with as much patience as I could muster.

She was wearing pink sweatpants and a long-sleeved fitted T-shirt—nice for a Sunday, actually—but from the neck up, it was a mess as usual. She had her hair stuffed into a bun, and her makeup from the day before was smudged under her eyes.

Her hangover probably rivaled mine. The only way she was up and moving around was because her body was a hell of a lot more used to it.

When she cleaned up, though, you could see how young she really was. When most of my friends first got a look at her they thought she was my sister.

“What do you want?” I asked.

I thought she was waiting for me to let her in, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Tate’s leaving.” Her voice was soft.

My heart started thumping in my chest.

Was that today?

And suddenly it was like an invisible hand prying open my stomach, and I flinched at the pain. I didn’t know if it was the hangover or the reminder of her leaving, but I clenched my teeth to force down the bile.

“So?” I mumbled, overloading on attitude.

She rolled her eyes at me. “So I thought you might get off your ass and say goodbye. She’ll be gone for a whole year, Jared. You were friends once.”

Yeah, up until two years ago…The summer before freshman year, I’d gone to visit my father and came home to realize that I was on my own. My mother was weak, my father was a monster, and Tate wasn’t a friend, after all.

I just shook my head before shutting the door in my mom’s face.

Yeah, like I was going to go outside and give Tate a hug goodbye. I didn’t care, and I was happy to be rid of her.

But there was a lump in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow.

I slumped back against the door, feeling the weight of a thousand bricks fall on my shoulders. I’d forgotten that she was leaving today. I’d been pretty much drunk non-stop since the Beckman party two days ago.

Shit.

I could hear car doors slamming outside, and I told myself to stay where I was. I didn’t need to see her.

Let her go study abroad in France. Her leaving was the best damn thing that could happen.

“Jared!” I tensed up when my mother called from downstairs. “The dog got out. You better go get him.”

Great.

Wanna bet she let the damn dog out to begin with? And wanna bet she let him out the front door? I pinched my eyebrows so close together that it actually hurt.

Throwing on last night’s jeans, I jerked open the bedroom door, not caring if Purdue girl woke up, and stomped down the stairs.

My mother was waiting by the open front door, holding up the leash for me and smiling like she was so clever. Snatching it out of her hand, I walked outside and over to Tate’s yard.

Madman used to be her dog, too, and he wouldn’t have gone anywhere else.

“Did you come to say goodbye to me?” Tate knelt on her front lawn near her dad’s Bronco, and I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of her delighted and uncontrollable giggle. She was smiling like it was Christmas morning, and her eyes were squeezed shut as Madman nuzzled her neck.

Her ivory skin glowed in the morning sun, and her full, pink lips were open, showing a beautiful row of white teeth.

The dog was clearly happy, too, wagging his tail with giddiness, and I felt like I was intruding.

They were a pair, loving on each other, and my stomach filled with butterflies.

Dammit. I ground my teeth together.

How did she do that? How did she always manage to make me feel happy to see her happy?

I blinked long and hard.

Tate continued yapping to the dog. “Oh, well, I love you, too!” She sounded like she was speaking to a child, all sweet and shit, as Madman kept nudging and licking her face.

He shouldn’t love her this much. What had she done for him in the past two years?

“Madman, come,” I barked, not really angry with the dog.

Tate’s eyes shifted up to me, and she stood up. “You’re being a jerk to the dog now, too?” She scowled, and it was then that I noticed what she was wearing.

The Nine Inch Nails T-shirt I’d given her when we were fourteen, and my chest swelled for some stupid unknown reason.

I’d forgotten she had it.

Okay…not really. I guess I didn’t realize that she still had it.

She probably didn’t even remember that I’d given it to her.

Kneeling down to hook Madman’s leash onto his collar, I twisted my lips up slightly. “You’re talking again, Tatum.”

I didn’t call her Tate. She hated “Tatum”, so that’s what I called her.

I fixed a bored, superior expression on my face.

I’d be happier without her around, I told myself. She was nothing.

And yet, I heard the little voice in the back of my head. She was everything.

She shook her head, the hurt in her eyes clear as she turned to walk away.

She wasn’t fighting back, I guess. Not today. The party on Friday night—when I’d humiliated her, and she’d punched my friend, Madoc, in the face—must have been a one-time deal.

“Is that what you’re wearing on the plane?” I asked, sneering.

I should’ve just walked away, but hell, I couldn’t stop engaging her. It was an addiction.

She turned back to me, her fingers fisting up. “Why do you ask?”

“Just looks a little sloppy is all.” But that was a bold-faced lie.

The black T-shirt was worn out, but it clung to her fit body like it was made just for her, and her dark jeans hugged her ass, telling me exactly what she would look like naked. With long, shiny hair and flawless skin, she looked like fire and sugar, and I wanted to gorge and burn at the same time.

Tatum was hot, but she didn’t know it.

And blonde or not, that was my type.

“But no worries,” I continued. “I get it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Get what?”

Leaning in, I taunted her with a smug grin. “You always liked wearing my clothes.”

Her eyes widened, and with her flushed skin there was no mistaking that she was pissed. It was raging all over her tough little face.

And I smiled to myself, because I fucking loved it.

She didn’t run away, though.

“Hold on.” She held up her pointer finger and turned to walk to the truck.

Digging under the front seat, in the emergency pack her dad kept there, she fished out something and slammed the car door shut. By the time she’d huffed back over to me, I saw that she had a lighter in her hand.

Before I could even register what was happening, she’d peeled off her shirt and exposed her perfect chest in a sexy ass sports bra.

My heart damn near shifted with the fucking pounding in my chest.

Holy shit.

I watched, not breathing, as she held up the shirt, flicked the lighter, and dipped the hem into the flame, bringing it to ash piece by piece.

Son of a bitch! What the hell was happening with her all of a sudden?

My gaze flashed to hers, and time stood still as we watched each other, forgetting the flaming material between us. Her hair danced around her body, and her storm-filled eyes pierced my skin, my brain, and my ability to move or speak.

Her arms shook a little, and her breaths, although steady, were deep. She was nervous as hell.

Okay, so breaking Madoc’s nose the other night wasn’t a fluke. She was fighting back.

I’d spent the past two years of high school making her life miserable. Telling a few lies, ruining a few dates, all for my own pleasure. Challenging Tate—making her a high school outcast—made my world go round, but she never fought back. Not until now. Maybe she thought that since she was leaving town, she could throw caution to the wind.

My fists balled up with renewed energy, and I was suddenly paralyzed by how much I would miss this. Not miss hating her or taunting her.

Just. Miss. Her.

And with that realization, I tightened my jaw so hard it ached.

Motherfucker.

She still owned me.

“Tatum Nicole!” her dad yelled from the porch, and we both jumped back to reality. He raced over and grabbed the shirt out of her hand, stomping it out on the ground.

My eyes hadn’t left hers, but the trance was broken and I was finally able to let out a breath. “See you in a year, Tatum,” I bit out, hoping it sounded like a threat.

She tipped her chin up and only glared at me while her father ordered her inside for a shirt.

I walked back over to my house with Madman at my side and wiped the cool sweat off my forehead.

Goddamn. I sucked in air like it was going out of style.

Why couldn’t I get that girl out from under my skin? Her hot little pyrotechnics weren’t going to help flush her out, either.

That image would be in my head forever.

Fear took root in my brain as I realized that she was really leaving. I wasn’t going to be in control of her anymore. She’d live every day not thinking of me. She’d go on dates with any asshole that showed interest. And even worse, I wouldn’t see her or hear of her. She’d have a life without me in it, and I was scared.

Everything, all of a sudden, felt foreign and uncomfortable. My house, my neighborhood, the idea of going back to school in a week.

“Fuck,” I growled under my breath.

This shit had to end.

I needed a distraction. Lots of distractions.

Once inside, I released the dog and climbed the stairs to my bedroom, digging my phone out of my pocket on the way.

If it were anyone else calling, Madoc wouldn’t answer this early. But for his best friend, it only took two rings.

“I’m. Still. Sleeping,” he grumbled.

“You still up for throwing a pool party before school starts?” I asked, switching on Buckcherry’s Crazy Bitch on the iPod dock on my dresser.

“We’re talking about this now? School isn’t for another week.” He sounded like half of his face was buried in a pillow, but it was how he talked these days. After Tate broke his nose the other night, he had trouble breathing out of one of his nostrils.

“Today. This afternoon,” I said, walking over to my window.

“Dude!” he blurted out. “I’m still dead from last night.”

And in truth, so was I. My head was still swimming from the liquor I’d tried drowning in the night before, but there was no way I could sit around all day with nothing but my thoughts keeping me company.

Tate going to France for a year.

Standing in the front yard in her bra, lighting fires.

I shook the images from my head.

“Then hit the gym and sweat out the hangover,” I ordered. “I need a distraction.”

Why did I just say that? Now he would know something was wrong, and I didn’t like people knowing my shit.

“Is Tate gone?” he asked, almost timidly.

My shoulders tensed, but I kept my tone even as I watched her come out of her house in a new shirt. “Who’s talking about her? You throwing a party or not?”

The line was quiet for a few seconds before he mumbled, “Uh, huh.” He sounded like he had more to say but wisely decided to shut his damn mouth. “Fine. I don’t want to see the same people we saw last night, though. Who are we inviting?”

Looking over at the Bronco pulling out of the driveway and the fucking blonde driver that didn’t once turn around to look back, I clenched the phone to my ear. “Blondes. Lots of blondes.”

Madoc exhaled a quiet laugh. “You hate blondes.”

Not all. Just one.

I sighed. “Right now, I want to drown in them.” I didn’t care if Madoc connected the dots or not. He wouldn’t push and that’s why he was my best friend. “Send out texts and get the drinks. I’ll grab some food and head over in a few hours.”

I twisted around when I heard the purest little moan coming from the bed. The Purdue girl—I forgot her name—was waking up.

“Why not come over now? We can head to the gym and then gather supplies,” Madoc suggested, but my eyes were hot on the bare back of the girl in my bed. Her squirming had nudged the blanket down to the top of her ass, and her face was turned away from me. All I saw was the skin and her sunshine hair.

And I hung up on Madoc, because my bed was the only place I wanted to be at right then.