The Damned Page 7

  “Until now,” Nick insisted. “That’s better than your brother ever did for either of you. Remember that.”

  His words made me flinch. My eyes zeroed in on his back as he climbed the stairs to help my sister. I couldn’t help thinking how right he was.

  CHAPTER TEN

  EMORY

  Sunday was spent in teenage hell, but I guess I deserved it. My mother woke me at the crack of dawn to get ready for an early service at church and then to help with the bizarre. Church was the last place I wanted to be, considering I had been up half the night partying and the other half crying. Apparently, the excuse of me coming down with something she had used last night at her book club meeting would work for this morning as well. People looked like crap when they were sick, so I was believable. In fact, one or two of her friends said they would pray for me to feel better soon. I bit my tongue, flashed them my sweetest smile, and said thank you—exactly like my mother wanted me to. I was polite, if nothing else, in public at all times.

  The rest of my day was spent cleaning the house from top to bottom as part of my punishment for sneaking out, but also in preparation for my dad’s evening arrival.

  When I was younger, my father coming home had always been something wonderful and exciting. Then, as I got older and my sister began to rebel against our mother, his visits grew jaded. They were always the same. My mother would bombard him at the dinner table with stories of how Chelsea had messed up during the time he was gone. Eventually, the two of them would argue, my mother blaming him for never being available to help keep Chelsea in line and my father claiming she was the how-to queen and should have it under control. Chelsea would scream and lash out with her words, and I would end up eating at the dinner table alone, wondering what I could do that would make my parents happy again.

  Sometimes I thought my father detested the weeks he spent with us, because there was never anything positive to come out of his time at home. Every second was filled with complaints from my mother. How the woman could appear to be so cheerful, pleasant, and ideal to the outside world, but then transform into someone so negative and callous behind closed doors was beyond me.

  I was positive my father could see this about her. My theory was that was why he chose to work as hard as he did. For all I knew, he had a second home that was picture-perfect someplace better and only came here when enough time had passed for him to become suspicious in my mother’s eyes. There were times when I would let that daydream take hold and envision him coming home just to scoop me up to live with his second family, because I was just as perfect as they were and would blend right in.

  “Did you dust in the sitting room?” My mother’s voice floated from somewhere in the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” I answered her as I continued to wipe down the coffee table.

  Dusting the house was the one job I actually enjoyed. Lemon-scented Pledge had to be the best scent ever.

  “No, I mean really dust?” She appeared in the doorway. “Take all the books down off the shelves and dust. Did you do that?”

  I clamped my lips together tightly in an effort to keep in the string of harsh words that wanted to spew from my mouth. How would my father know whether I had dusted behind each book? How would anyone? And more importantly, who would care?

  “Nope, I sure didn’t.” I knew the second the words left my mouth there was too much sass in them.

  “You’re being punished, Emory. Do I need to remind you of all that you’ve done to deserve this and more?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  I dropped my eyes to the coffee table. “No, ma’am.”

  “Actions have consequences, that’s what you need to walk away learning from this moment.” She quickly darted from my sight, repeating her words under her breath. I knew she was most likely heading straight to her office so she could jot down the sentence on a Post-it note for future inspiration.

  I pursed my lips together and headed for the floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with paperbacks, all of which my mother had read, to begin pulling them down one by one and dust.

  An hour or so later, after I had finished the grueling task of those hellish shelves, I was standing in my parents’ bedroom, vacuuming the floor. A light from the top drawer of my mother’s nightstand caught my attention, and I took the vacuum along with me to check it out. It was my cell phone. I had been wondering where she stashed it after she confiscated it last night as part of my punishment.

  I glanced at the bedroom door to be sure she wasn’t standing there watching me before I reached into the drawer and pulled it out. I had seven texts and three missed phone calls. Scrolling through quickly, I noticed the majority of them were from Tara, each of them ranging from panicked to pissed about why I hadn’t responded and why I was ignoring her calls, but then there was one from Sam.

  Can I see you today?

  My stomach quivered as the answer I had to give him formed in my mind.

  I got caught sneaking back in last night. Now I’m seriously grounded. I don’t know if it’s going to be possible to see you again anytime soon. I’m sorry. ~ Emory

  I hit send and moved the vacuum around to appear as though I was still doing what I was supposed to. My cell screen lit with Sam’s response half a second later.

  Oh. Well that blows. So, no sneaking out anytime soon for you then, huh?

  A half-smile formed at the corner of my lips as I typed out a response.

  Nope. Maybe not even for the rest of my life, considering how mad my mom is right now. ~ Emory

  How about I sneak in to see you?

  My heart hammered in my throat as I reread his words. Never had I snuck a guy into my room before. Never. While the idea was tempting, I had witnessed the storm of the century that blew through the Montgomery house when Chelsea had been caught with a guy in her room afterhours once. With everything else I had already put my parents through this year, I wasn’t sure what they would do if I were to get caught in that scenario. Besides, what would we do once he was here? The only thing I could think of wouldn’t be anything I wanted either of my parents to walk in on, that was for sure.

  I don’t think that’s such a good idea. My dad is actually coming home from a long trip tonight. If we got caught, it would be bad. ~ Emory

  I moved around to the other side of my parents’ bed while keeping my eyes trained on the door and my cell clasped in my hand. The screen lit with another text from Sam.

  I can be quiet. Promise.

  A tremble slipped through me as I thought of all the things he could do to me while remaining quiet. Any resolve I could muster faded after I read his next persuasive text.

  I can be good, but Emory, I’m telling you now that I’m at my best being bad in the dark.

  Holy hotness. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? There was only one thing.

  Eleven. Don’t be late, because I don’t enjoy being kept waiting. ~ Emory

  The thrill that coursed through me from not only sending the text, but also because I was purposely going behind my mother’s back to do something she wouldn’t approve of. It made me feel more alive than I ever had before. Maybe Chelsea had it right. Maybe being good all the time was lackluster.

  See you then, cupcake.

  Cupcake? Sam was the first boy to call me by any pet name. I couldn’t wait to hear him say it in person.

  Side note, I’m not supposed to have my cell, so don’t text me again until I text you. ~ Emory

  He responded back with lightning speed.

  Got it.

  Swiping my thumb across the screen, I deleted all the texts from Sam and moved on to answer the ones from Tara.

  Got caught last night and now I’m grounded like never before. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ignore you. Mom took my phone. ~ Emory

  The second I hit send, the vacuum shut off on its own.

  “Having fun cleaning, dear?”

  Tensing up, I slowly turned. My mother was standing in the doorway, holding th
e cord to the vacuum in her hand.

  “I’m sorry, I know you took this from me, but Tara was blowing my phone up, wondering if I had made it home okay last night. I had to let her know I was all right,” I insisted.

  “Oh, Tara, huh? She was there with you last night?” Mom folded her arms over her chest, her eyes never wavering from mine. “Was she drinking too? I bet her mother would love to know all of this.”

  Closing my eyes, I sighed. “Don’t, Mom, please. Tara wasn’t drinking. She was there, but she was driving everyone home. She was being responsible.”

  “Because sneaking out of her house in the middle of the night and convincing her friend to do the same is responsible. Emory, I’m sorry, but I’m not buying that.” She dropped the cord and walked toward me. After taking the phone from my fingers, she took a few steps back, creating a large berth of space between us. “If she was drinking and driving, the least I can do is let her parents know. What if something happens later on down the road to her? I would feel guilty for knowing and never saying a word.”

  My blood boiled. There was no reason for her to call Tara’s parents and get her in trouble too. If my mom really cared, she should use my phone right now to call Tara directly and talk with her. Speaking with her parents wouldn’t solve anything. It would only get Tara in trouble, causing a rift between her and her parents, and tick Tara off at me.

  “Don’t,” I pleaded. “Please don’t get her into trouble.”

  “Emory, it’s exactly like I just told you. If something happened to her the next time she decides to sneak out and drink and drive, I would feel horrible for not saying something to her parents. I would expect any of your friends’ parents to do the same for me. I’m not trying to be the bad guy here. I’m trying to help.”

  “She doesn’t need help, Mother. Tara wasn’t drinking and driving.” I ran a hand through my hair. This entire situation felt entirely out of my control. I hated feeling as though things were out of my control. “Why don’t you believe me?”

  She looked me square in the eye when she said her next words. “Why should I? Lately you’ve given me no reason to. Not with your lying, sneaking out, and did I mention getting pregnant?”

  I inhaled sharply, and then let the first thing that came into my mind slip out. “You lie. You can’t tell me that you don’t. Everything about you is one big freaking lie. And sneaking out, so what? You probably did the same thing when you were my age at least once. As for the getting pregnant, how dare you throw that in my face again? You were pregnant at eighteen with Chelsea, which is only a year older than I am right now. Besides, how can you continue to bring that up when you took care of my mess up so quickly without even giving me a say?” My heart pumped hard and fast in my chest, causing a lightheaded sensation to shift through me and icy tendrils to spread through my chest.

  My mother’s features tightened. “You left me no choice in the matter. What was I supposed to do? Let you become a teen mom?”

  “Yes! If that’s what I chose to do on my own, then yes!” I shouted. Rarely did I ever raise my voice to her, to anyone. I was always calm and composed, but right now, speaking my mind in a loud tone felt freeing and the best way to get my point across.

  “Well, I couldn’t. I know firsthand how tough it is being a teen mom, Emory! I’m sorry if not wanting my own daughter to go through the same struggles I did makes me a bad person in your eyes. I thought I was doing the right thing for you.” She left the room without another word.

  I stared after her, blinking rapidly and refusing to cry. Did she just tell me that she wished she had never had my sister? That being a teen mom had been too tough for her? Really? My mother, the parental how-to guru, thought parenting was hard?

  I wanted to scream. The anger that was swelling inside of me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was thick and strong, to the point of burning the back of my throat. I stalked across the room and jerked the plug off the floor. After I crammed it into the wall, I pushed the vacuum around the room with more force than necessary, taking my aggression out on the carpet. A tiny smile came to my face when I was nearly finished with the room as I suddenly remembered that I had agreed to let Sam sneak into my room tonight. Take that, Mom.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  COLE

  The last vehicle I remembered Nick having was a crappy car he’d gotten from his piece of shit father. The vehicle he and Julie picked me up in was definitely not that car. Somewhere along the line, Nick had been able to purchase a sleek black four-door truck. It was all chromed out and shiny as could be.

  “Damn, nice ride.” I hoisted the section of my box spring I was holding up higher.

  Nick grinned. “Thanks. What are you driving nowadays?”

  “My board still.”

  We laughed and lifted the heavy box spring into the back of his truck as gently as we could manage. It hung over the edge just a bit¸ but once we put the mattress on top and tied the two down, everything would be good. Swiping my hand across my shorts, I weaved around Julie carrying a trash bag of my clothes, and headed back inside.

  In forty minutes, all of my stuff was crammed into Nick’s truck and my bedroom was seriously bare. Pretty much the only thing left was my crappy dresser that most likely wouldn’t make it through the move. Julie said we could pick me up one at a thrift shop when we got to Baycrest. I was fine with that.

  “Did you get everything you wanted?” Julie had come up to stand beside me as I leaned against the frame of the front door, glancing into our shitty-looking living room.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  Her hand reached out and touched my shoulder. I looked down at her. Sometime over the last two years, I’d grown nearly a foot taller than her.

  “It’s strange, I know, but you’ll realize soon that leaving here was the best thing for you,” she whispered.

  I wasn’t just leaving though. This wasn’t some curse of the eighteenth year like her and my brother had fallen prey to; this was a forced move. I had no other choice but to leave. This was different.

  “Maybe.” The word fell from my lips, twisted with hope and anguish.

  Sweeping my eyes one last time through the living room of my childhood home, I chewed at the inside of my bottom lip. Julie’s hand slipped off my shoulder and I heard her walk to where Nick was. When I glanced at the two, they were standing side by side, staring at the house across the street.

  I guess it wasn’t just a shitty day for me, but one for both of them too.

  Closing the door behind me for the last time, I walked down the little pathway to the driveway and scooped up my board. Opening the back door of Nick’s truck, I slipped inside and breathed deeply.

  Baycrest, here I come, whether I like the idea or not.

  * * * *

  “This is the part that never gets old, the way the scent of salt lingers in the air.” Julie beamed from the passenger seat as we crossed over the main bridge and into the coastal town of Baycrest, North Carolina.

  The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I stared at her. I had rarely seen this side of her. She was happy, so fucking happy that it made me envious.

  Would this place be my salvation as well?

  Pushing the sleeves on my shirt up, I shifted my gaze from my giddy sister toward the scenery passing by. The ugly mark I’d made the other night glared at me from out of the corner of my eye. It was just the reminder I needed to know that I was more fucked up than Julie was. The move to Baycrest might be too little, too late when it came to saving me, especially in saving me from myself.

  A permanent scowl crept onto my face as we made our way through the streets of the quaint, little town. It became apparent to me after seeing people crowding the sidewalks that I would not fit in here. My usual dark attire would make me stick out among the sea of bright colors these people wore. I chuckled as a thought passed through my mind. The dark cloud that is Cole Porter has arrived, fuckers.

  “That place has the best
chai latte I’ve ever had,” Julie muttered. “Oh, this is the strip where everyone hangs out. I always see kids your age walking on my way to work. There are some really cool cafés and shops.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t even looking out the window anymore. Right now, I didn’t care about taking note of all the cool places these beach bum kids hung out.

  In fact, that was the last thing on my mind.

  The reality of this move, of how my life in Harper was now over, came crashing down on me while tasting the salt water in the air. What the hell had happened? One minute I was pissed that I had to listen to my mom and my biology teacher go at it like rabbits, and then the next I was sitting in the backseat of my brother-in-law’s nice ass ride, heading to live with the sister I hadn’t spoken to in freaking forever.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Nick turned down another street and paused at a red traffic light. His eyes shifted to mine in the rearview mirror. I exhaled the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding and struggled to place the indifferent mask I usually was so good at into place. Nick had seen the broken me before I was able to hide it though; I could tell. There was a glimmer of sympathy reflected in his eyes.

  Pulling my gaze from his, I looked out my window. I knew Nick’s stare had gone back to the road, because the truck was moving again, but I kept the indifferent expression in place all the same. We were pulling into a residential area now. The houses were all cookie-cutter replicas of each other. The beach grew farther and farther away, but my sister still seemed to love the air here. I could hear her heavy inhales and exhales as though she were meditating in the front seat.

  My anger toward everything simmered down. Julie was probably just glad to be home, glad to be away from all the hellish memories Hilton Street held for her and her husband. I couldn’t blame her.

  After another fifteen minutes or so of driving, we turned onto a street with houses that finally lost the cookie-cutter look and each house seemed unique. My stomach sank to my toes as I wondered if Nick and Julie lived in one of these places. Clearing my throat, I smoothed my palms across my shorts. This place was definitely not for me. I didn’t belong here. How the hell could my sister believe that she did?