Twisted Sins: A Dark High School Romance (Twisted Pine Academy Book 2) Page 12

  "Yeah, we should probably head back."

  "I was thinking of something else."

  Still holding my face, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. It's just a kiss but when he pulls back, I suck in a breath, surprised at how much my body reacts from just his kiss. I should be used to it now but I'm not.

  "You okay?" he asks, noticing my reaction.

  "Yeah. I just wasn't expecting that."

  "You still want to go home?"

  I answer by kissing him while slowly climbing over to his seat. He grabs my hips, helping me the rest of the way until I'm on his lap. He reclines the seat, then yanks off his shirt.

  "I can't get enough of you," he says, his hand slipping under the waistband of my shorts. "I didn't plan this. I swear."

  "I did," I whisper in his ear. "I was hoping this would happen."

  He cups my ass and I grind into him, softly moaning as I feel the hard length of him against me. I reach between us and undo my shorts. He yanks them down, then quickly undoes his jeans. His cock springs out, rubbing along my panties. He shoves them aside, but stops before sliding inside me.

  "Shit," he says, tipping his head back.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I didn't bring anything."

  I sigh and lay my head on his chest. "So I guess we're done."

  "Hold on." He tries to sit up. "Check the glove compartment."

  I lean over to open it, then rear back when I see the gun,

  "You have a gun?" I say, panic in my voice. "In your car?"

  He laughs. "It's fake. It's from one of my dad's movie sets." He reaches over and grabs it. "See?" He holds it out to me. "It's much lighter than a real gun."

  I push it away. "I don't want to hold it. Why do you have a fake gun in your car?"

  "In case I need to make someone think it's real. If someone tries to rob me and I take this out? I guarantee they'll think it's real. The prop people are freaking amazing. They can make anything look real."

  I get off him and move back to my seat, grabbing my shorts from the floor. "Can you put it away, please?"

  "Sure." He tosses it in the glove compartment, then raises his seat back to normal. "Were there any in there?"

  "I don't know. I was too distracted by the gun." I yank on my shorts.

  He reaches in front of me to the glove compartment, moving stuff around. "I think it's gone."

  "You used it?" I ask. "Recently?"

  He gives me a kiss. "Not since meeting this hot girl from New York who stumbled into my life and made me forget all about other women."

  "Yeah, right." I smile as I put my seatbelt on. "Like you never look at other girls?"

  "I may see them but I'm not looking at them. My mind keeps thinking of you. Wanting to see you again." His hand moves down my leg. "Touch you." He leans toward me, pushing me against the seat. "Kiss you."

  He kisses me and I want him so bad I can't stand it. Coming that close and then not getting it? Pure torture.

  I push him back. "You sure you don't have a condom hidden somewhere else?"

  "If I do it's too old to use. We could go get one and come back."

  "I can't be gone that long. I'm sure Brock's already pissed that I left. I swear he wants to keep me a prisoner at the house." I sit up straight as an idea hits me. "What if it's because of my dad?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "What if my dad is here in town somewhere and Brock doesn't want me running into him?"

  "Your dad could just go to the house and see you."

  "Yeah." I let out a breath. "You're right. Never mind."

  "Rumor, I'm serious about finding your dad. I'll do whatever it takes if you really want to track him down."

  "I do."

  "Then I say we start by going to his apartment. You know where he lives, right?"

  "I have his address but he could've moved."

  "We'll start with what you have and go from there. I could ask my dad to find out who Devon's agent is and give him a call. See if he's heard from him."

  "You said you don't talk to your dad."

  "I will if I have to. If that's what I need to do to find your dad."

  I smile at Jackson, thinking that maybe I really do love him. Nobody else would do this for me. Nobody else would care. Jackson's cared about me since the day we met. My heart was falling for him back then but I didn't listen. I couldn't. I didn't trust it.

  I'm still afraid to listen to my heart after it betrayed me with Axl. But maybe it's right this time. Maybe this time I've found someone I love who loves me back.

  Please, heart. Please don't betray me again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I get back to the house, Trystan is gone and Braden and Brock are still in his office. I go in the kitchen and see my note is still there. Brock probably didn't even see it.

  Back in my room, I attempt to do my homework but end up falling asleep, not waking up until later that night when I hear Brock at my door.

  "Rumor, are you awake?"

  "Yeah," I say, gathering my books around me so it looks like I was studying.

  Brock walks in, exhaustion covering his usually perfect face and his hair looking like he ran his hands through it over and over.

  "What do you need?" I ask.

  He comes over to my bed, sitting across from me. "I just want to make it clear that you are not to discuss anything to anyone regarding this issue with Braden."

  "You mean the police thinking he killed Andrea," I say to see how he'll respond.

  "Braden is innocent," he snaps. "And he's your family. You need to support him."

  "Yeah. Got it." I pick up my literature book.

  Brock snatches it from me. "Listen to me." His eyes lock on mine. "Braden is innocent. I don't care what anyone tells you or what evidence appears. He's innocent and that's the story we will tell. ALL of us."

  "Story?" I cock my head. "Aren't stories usually made up?"

  He sets my book down and does that thing where he breathes through his nose and lets it out. "That is the statement," he clarifies, "we will give to whoever asks. Braden is innocent. That's all you need to say. Any questions?"

  "Yes, but not about Braden."

  "What is it?"

  "I need to take driver's ed. I need to start this week."

  "You said you didn't want to."

  "I changed my mind."

  "Then sign yourself up. I'm sure you can find a place online. Sign up and I'll pay for it."

  "You're really letting me drive?"

  "Why wouldn't I?"

  "You never want me to leave the house."

  "Because you're grounded. Have you forgotten you punched a girl?"

  "About that. If I play along at counseling, will you cut the time I'm grounded for?"

  "If you're referring to the counselor I'll be sending you to, then yes. As for the school counseling sessions, you need to do as I said and find a way out of that. I don't want you seeing someone who's inexperienced."

  "That won't be a problem. I'm good at getting kicked out of stuff."

  "Hopefully that doesn't include school. How are your classes going?"

  "Okay. I heard Ms. Pruitt comes back on Monday so I'm sure that'll suck."

  "Just keep quiet and do your work. And sit in the back. I've heard her eyesight is failing. If you sit in the back she might forget you're there."

  "I already sit in the back, but good to know about the eyesight thing."

  He gets up to leave, then turns back. "About the card. I know you took it."

  I keep quiet as I try to figure out how to respond. He doesn't seem angry. There's some other expression on his face. I'm not sure what it means. His lips are turned slightly up, his eyes dark and intense.

  "Did you try the number?" he asks, his lips turning up even more.

  Why is he smiling? Does he think hiding my dad from me is funny? If so, he has a sick sense of humor.

  "He's not there anymore."

  "Is that so?" he says with
a laugh.

  "Why are you laughing? He's missing. That's not funny."

  "He's not missing. He's on one of his many binges. He always does this after getting out of rehab."

  "Why didn't you tell me he was out?"

  "Would you rather think he's in rehab getting help or out on the streets with the other addicts?"

  "I want the truth," I say, glaring at him. "I expect my own uncle to tell me the truth and not lie to me."

  "I did what I thought was best."

  "The day I moved here you said you saw him. Where did you see him?"

  "He was still at the facility back then. I went there and assured him I'd do my best to care for you and that I'd enrolled you at Twisted Pine."

  "Why were you mad at him?"

  "I wasn't mad."

  "Then why wouldn't you talk about him? I asked about him and you refused to talk about him."

  "I was frustrated with him, not angry. He wasn't putting forth effort in his rehab. I was paying a fortune for him to get help and he wasn't even trying."

  "You paid for it?"

  "I've paid for all of them. You think your father has money for that? Do you have any idea how much those places cost?"

  "No. Are you saying he's out of money?"

  "Out?" He lets out a laugh. "He's never had it."

  "He's had jobs."

  "And as soon as he gets paid, he spends the money on alcohol or drugs."

  "What about his rent?"

  "I pay for it, along with his other expenses."

  Brock pays all that for my dad? I didn't know that. I didn't think he did anything for my dad. I thought taking me in was the first favor he's ever done for him, but I guess not.

  "How long have you done this?" I ask.

  "Ever since I could afford to." He walks back over to me. "I know you want your father back in your life, but if you knew the man he really is, you'd want nothing to do with him."

  "Do you know where he is now?"

  "No, and I'm not going to invest time looking for him. When he's in need of money he'll show up again." Brock pats my shoulder. "I strongly suggest you stop searching for your father and focus on finishing up school and moving on with your life."

  When I don’t respond, he finally leaves and I grab my phone to call Jackson.

  "Hey, where have you been?" he answers. "You didn't text me back."

  "I fell asleep. Just woke up. Brock came in my room and I told him what I found out about my dad."

  "About seeing him on the beach?"

  "No, about him leaving rehab. He made it sound like my dad does this all the time. He goes to rehab, leaves, and goes on a binge. He said he'll show up again when he needs money. Brock said he's been paying for all my dad's expenses, even rent. You think he's lying?"

  "Probably not. Your dad hasn't worked in years, and even when he was working, his parts were too small to pay much."

  "So what does that mean? That Brock's not as bad as I thought he was?"

  "Paying for shit doesn't make you a good person."

  "I know. I'm just surprised he'd help him like that. I didn't think they got along."

  "Are you still going to try to find your dad?"

  "I think so. I still want to talk to him."

  "I'm not sure when I can get you to LA. Between football practice and school, I don't have much free time. And now I've got the cops wanting to talk to me."

  "There's no rush. We can figure out a time later. Or maybe I could get a car. How much would a rideshare cost from here to LA?"

  "A lot. And I don't want you going there alone. You might not like what you find. I want to go with you."

  "Okay," I say, my heart warming at his offer.

  "Oh. I got some bad news."

  "What is it?"

  "That guy I had fixing the footage from the security cameras?"

  "Yeah? What about him?"

  "He got fired today. One of the other security guys caught him doing it and he got fired on the spot."

  "They caught him?" I say, panicking. "They're gonna tell Brock! He's gonna know about us!"

  "It wasn't Brock's footage. It was some other guy he was doing it for. A guy who was sneaking out to cheat on his wife."

  "What if they go back and look at what else he did?"

  "They won't if they want to keep Brock as a client. They'll keep it quiet and pretend it never happened. They don't want to deal with the lawsuits that would happen if they told the truth. But the bad news for us is that you can't sneak out the back anymore. And I can't sneak in."

  "So what are we going to do? I can't go without seeing you."

  "Maybe we can do like we did today. I meet you at the end of the street. Rumor, the guys are here. I have to go."

  "What guys? The team?"

  "Yeah. We're going to dinner and then going to the field to practice. Hey, what's the news about Braden's knee?"

  "I don't know. He's acting like he's fine but he's not walking right. I caught him limping earlier. And when he tries to walk normally, he cringes, so he's definitely in pain."

  "Do you know if he's still going to practice?"

  "No, but I could ask."

  "Let me know what you find out."

  "I will. See ya, Burt." I laugh.

  "Have a good night, Trudy."

  I like our fake names. I think we should keep them even when we no longer have to hide our relationship. I wonder if that day will ever come. I'd have to be out of Brock's house for that to happen, which means almost a year has to pass before we could tell anyone. I don't want to wait. I'm already tired of hiding it.

  Sunday I spend all day in my room, doing homework and trying to find a driver's ed place. I find one and sign up, but even if I hurry and complete the course as fast as possible, all I can get is a learner's permit, which I have to have for an entire year before I can apply for a real license. Now I wish I'd just taken the stupid driving class back in New York.

  At six, Brock comes to my room asking if I want to go to dinner with him and Braden. I tell him no, but when they leave I regret not going. It would've been a chance for me to find out more about the Andrea investigation. I also could've got an update on Braden's injury. He was supposed to meet the team at the gym tonight but didn't go. He'd have to be really hurt to skip the gym.

  Around ten, when I'm getting ready for bed, I hear music blaring from the patio. I go out there and find Braden in the hot tub, his head tipped back, eyes closed, his muscular arms draped over the sides.

  "Could you turn your music down?" I yell, standing beside him. "I'm going to sleep."

  He slowly opens his eyes and looks up at me. "It's doctor's orders. Have to soak my knee."

  "Then do it in the tub. In your bathroom. Or turn the music down." I turn to leave but he grabs my leg. "Braden, let me go."

  "Stay." He looks up at me. "I'll turn the music down if you stay."

  "And keep it down?"

  "Yeah. Go change, then come in here and join me."

  I don't want to be in there with him but it'll give me a chance to ask him questions about his leg and the team, and maybe even about Andrea. I know I should forget about that and just accept it was an accident but I can't do it, especially now with the case being looked at again.

  "Be right back," I say, hurrying to my room. I grab the black bikini from my drawer, quickly put it on, and return to the patio. "Music is still on," I yell.

  He turns it down, watching me as I approach the hot tub. He continues to watch me as I get in the water.

  "You look good."

  "Thanks," I say, his comment making me uncomfortable. The way he's looking at me is also making me uncomfortable. It isn't the way you look at your cousin. It's how you look at someone you want to have sex with. "So what do you want to talk about?"

  "We don't have to talk. I just got sick of being alone out here."

  "You could've made Trystan come down here."

  "He's asleep. He's meeting some guys at the gym at five."

&nbs
p; "Why so early?"

  "It's not early. It's when we always go."

  "Then why are you up so late?"

  "I'm not going tomorrow. Coach is making me take a few days off. I'll be back to training on Tuesday. But I'll be back at practice tomorrow."

  "That must mean your knee is better."

  "It's not a hundred percent but it's getting there." He comes around to my side of the hot tub, a smile on his face. "You were worried about me, weren't you? When you saw me on the field and I didn't get up."

  I shrug. "I knew you'd be fine."

  "You were worried. I looked up and saw you in the stands."

  I pause. "I was sitting with Alyssa. You used to date her, didn't you?"

  His body stiffens. "I never dated her. Did she tell you I did?"

  "I guess I just assumed. Don't football players date cheerleaders, or is that a myth?"

  "I never dated her," he says, sounding angry. "If she's saying that shit, she's lying."

  "She didn't say it. I just assumed." I glance at him. "Would you want to date her?"

  "She's Kade's girl. I don't take some other guy's girl."

  "I thought they weren't together anymore."

  "They're not now, but they will be. They always break up and get back together."

  "Like you and Andrea."

  He turns to me, his dark eyes looking directly into mine. "Stop bringing up Andrea. Don't even say her fucking name. I've had enough of her shit. The bitch is dead and still making my life hell."

  "She's not doing it. The police are."

  "Because of her. She fucking falls over a railing and I get blamed."

  "Who's blaming you? You weren't charged with anything."

  "I was accused. Same thing. And now it's happening again. I don't need this shit. I need to focus on football, not waste time at some fucking lawyer's office."

  "Why do they keep accusing you? Just because you dated her?"

  "Because she made a damn scene when I told her we were over. She wouldn't shut up. The whole damn town probably heard her screaming at me."

  "Why was she so determined to get back with you? Wasn't she dating that other guy?"

  "She wanted ME. She never wanted Novak. She only went out with him to piss me off, which it did. There was no way I was taking her back after that. I don't know why the hell she thought I would."