Bad Boys Page 2

  “Nothing, Dad!” She turns her heat-filled stare on me. “Go.”

  Maybe I am a little crazy.

  I turn back to Major and hiss, “Stay put” under my breath. His ears swivel toward me, but that’s the only sign he gives that he heard. I couldn’t expect any more from the stubborn jerk.

  Lacey’s window is a good five feet off the ground thanks to the raised foundation of the old cottage. I jam the toes of my boots in tight against the weatherboards and then push down hard on my elbows to hoist myself higher.

  “What on earth are you doing now?” she growls through clenched teeth.

  I flop halfway into the house, my legs in the air behind me. “Coming in.”

  “Tuck,” she grumbles all throaty and firm.

  I crane my head back to flash her a winning smile and then walk my hands along her floor to drag in my legs. My boots make a louder smack against the boards than I was hoping. The two of us freeze and listen for any sign that we’re sprung.

  “Get your arse back out that damn window before I get in trouble.” Lacey sets her small hands on my shoulders and shoves.

  I push to my feet regardless and pull the girl into my arms. She resists at first, her body stiff as a fucking board, but softens. “Don’t you think that’s better?”

  Her words are mushed into my chest. “I suppose.”

  “I turn up to your house to take you out for the night and find you crying, of course, I’m gonna want to hug the shit out of you to make you feel better.”

  She snorts a laugh into my shirt and then tentatively slips her arms round my waist. “Thank you.”

  With a kiss to the head, I ease up on her. “Any time, baby.” She leans back, her face tipped up to mine. “Now what are we gonna do about this situation, huh?”

  Lacey shrugs. “Not much I can do.” She slips away, retreating toward where her bags sit half-packed on the bed. “I don’t get a choice.”

  “Lacey. Are you sure you’re okay down there?”

  “Can’t I make a damn phone call in peace?” She gives me a wide-eyed shrug as though to say, “What else should I have told him?”

  Heavy footfalls grow louder as they approach her bedroom.

  I dive behind the bed that sits parallel to her door.

  The handle turns, and the door swings open. I stare at the steel-capped boots through the gap under the bed and grimace. Don’t fancy having those up my arse.

  “Who were you calling?”

  “Maggie,” Lacey lies. “She wanted to know why Mum made her leave.”

  Her father sighs. “Fine. But no more calls until later, okay?” He pauses, and I close my eyes, hoping he’ll leave.

  Nope.

  “And keep this window shut.” The boots stride into the room. “It’s freezing out there.”

  I slide as far under the bed as I can fit (which isn’t far at all) and hold my breath. Lacey’s dad stops with his back to me, hands on the sash window, and jerks it halfway closed before coming to an abrupt halt.

  I daren’t blink in case it’s too fucking loud. Not that I can hear much over my pounding heart anyway.

  Since when was I the guy who hid on a girl’s bedroom floor? Fucking whipped already, Tuck.

  “Lace?” her Dad asks tentatively. “Why is there a horse at our back fence?”

  “What?” she asks, feigning shock as she heads over to join him.

  I edge closer to the bed and knock my damn hat off my head. The stiff brim hits the floorboards with a deafening tap.

  Lacey buries her face in her hands. Her old man looks set to murder me.

  I grin up at the guy, weirdly noticing she has his shade of blue eyes, and stick my arm out—awkwardly considering how I’m flat out on the floor. “Tuck Brallant, Sir. Nice to meet you.”

  The guy leaves me hanging. “Stand. Up.”

  I do as he asks, my back popping when I stretch out to my full height. Turns out I’m a half a foot taller than her dad.

  He looks between his daughter and me. “Which one of you would like to explain this?”

  “I didn’t ask him to—” “It’s all my idea,” Lacey and I both start at the same time.

  “It was my idea,” I repeat, shoulders back.

  “Have you got anything for me to put in the Exp—” Colt cuts off his question midway, jaw gaping as he stares at the scene unfolding in his little sister’s room. “What the hell?”

  “Go,” their dad barks. “This isn’t your issue.”

  “What isn’t his issue?”

  Fuck me. We’ve got the whole family now.

  I lift a hand to the blonde woman who looks like a middle-aged version of Lacey. Or does Lacey look like a teenage her? Fuck. Whatever it is, I raise a palm to the woman. “Hi, Mrs Williams. Lovely to meet you.”

  One detailed eyebrow lifts in assessment. “And you would be?”

  “Tuck. Lacey’s friend.” The word hurts as it falls from my tongue.

  Something that looks akin to recognition flickers in her dad’s eyes.

  “And why are you in my daughter’s room?”

  “Mum,” Lacey snaps. “Go away.”

  “No. It’s okay.” I lift both hands in surrender. “Saves you all having to sit around and repeat it later.” I take a step toward Mrs Williams. “We were just getting to the bit where I explain why I’m here.”

  “This should be good,” Colt grumbles, his arms folded.

  I shoot him a glare that has the guy reeling back into his mother and continue. “I’d made arrangements to meet up with your daughter and her friend Maggie tonight. When Mags showed up without Lacey all upset and that, I thought I’d come around to make sure Lacey was alright.”

  “You could have used the front door if all you wanted was to visit,” Mrs Williams quips.

  I lock on to her black-rimmed eyes and make the measure of the woman at that moment. Every family has one key member who rules the roost. In most instances it’s the father, sometimes, rarely it’s one of the kids. Around here? It’s the mother.

  “Perhaps I would have if I hadn’t found your daughter crying and felt that was more important.”

  “You came around the back of the house,” Colt remarks in an attempt to catch me off guard. “You had no intention of coming through the front door.”

  I steel my jaw before answering. “The paved roads aren’t great for Major’s hooves, so I stick to the grassy areas where I can.” It’s not all that untrue, but these idiots wouldn’t know jack shit about horses to say otherwise.

  “Well,” Lacey’s mother starts, much to her daughter’s annoyance. “As you can see, she’s fine now. You can go.”

  I take a step toward Lacey and her dad and then stoop to pick up my hat.

  Her old man watches me with a firm brow, but his gaze holds none of the malice her mother’s does. He almost seems happy somebody gives a shit about his daughter.

  Good.

  “I’ll see you at school, then, Lacey.”

  She frowns.

  “I’m afraid you won’t,” her mother says. “Lacey won’t be staying in Arcadia.”

  Head down as I settle my hat, I wet my lips and take a breath. My old man would tan my hide for this. “Are you sure about that?” I turn to face Lacey’s mum. “Because your daughter told me she doesn’t want to leave.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not her choice.” Her dad sounds just like she does—resigned and robotic.

  “Tuck,” Lacey says softly. “Go enjoy your night.”

  This isn’t over. Maggie has her number. I have ways of finding out where she lives in Riverbourne.

  This isn’t goodbye.

  “Sure.” I turn for the door. “You all do the same, huh?” I make a point of knocking my shoulder into Colt’s as I pass by the arsehole. “Mrs Williams.”

  She steps back to let me pass.

  I make my way out the door and then around back to collect Major, sure of one thing.

  That house? It’s as much of a home as mine is.

  And that isn’t a hell of a lot.

  LACEY

  “Do I want to know why that uncouth boy thought he could come into our house?” Mum spits, her arm extended toward the window where Tuck mounts Major at the back fence.

  “Probably because Lacey is smitten with the jerk,” Colt says as though the words leave a bad taste in his mouth.

  He stands in my doorway, arms folded, and a look of disappointment etched into his angelic features. I note Mum’s stiff posture where she stands behind him, the two of them making the right pair. Does she know what Colt did? Is she aware why it is the kids around here don’t like us?

  Why does this room seem so damn small right now? My brother is anything but an angel.

  “Get the hell out of my room, Colt.”

  “Lacey!” Mum throws a protective arm in front of him as though I might strike at any minute.

  I feel she could be right in her evaluation of the situation.

  A weight settles gently on my shoulder, and I turn to see Dad looking down at me with a mixture of frustration and pity. “Pack what you need for the week ahead. We can discuss this later.”

  “I can’t wait until we’re back in Riverbourne,” Mum mutters as she turns to leave. “None of this would happen there.”

  I scowl at the hallway where her voice still carries back to my room. Colt gives one quick lift of his eyebrows—a silent “How do you like that?” if ever I saw one—and turns his back. Dad hesitates in the doorway, hand on the frame while he regards me with a tilt of his head.

  “I don’t like this as much as you do, honey, but the more we all co-operate, the easier the transition will be.”

  I draw a deep breath and will my tears to go the hell away. “Can I ask you one question?”

  H
e nods, eyes averted to the mirrored jewellery box on my set of drawers.

  “Be honest, Dad. Is this permanent?”

  He sighs. “I wish I knew the answer for you.”

  I’m left deflated and empty when he leaves, the previous smothered feeling I had with everyone in here preferential to the vacancy that swirls around me now.

  I cut my gaze to the window, a small part of me hoping Tuck is still outside. But he’s gone. Off to enjoy the night and no doubt forget about the stupid, spoilt girl who’ll be nothing more than a memory come Monday.

  You would think after the carnage that led us toward moving out to Arcadia for a new start, that I’d be in the very least a little acclimatised to change. And still, I’m amazed by how strongly the slightest variation to routine can leave me feeling as though I walk on shaky, uneven ground.

  I long for the girl I was a year ago. She knew who she was and what direction her life would go in; even if it wasn’t my map that I followed. I’ve never been more faithful to myself than I am now, in what I want. But at the same time, I’m scared.

  I’m vulnerable and exposed when I let people know how I feel and what it is I want, and I don’t like that one little bit.

  Being Lacey, the Chosen, at Riverbourne may have been shallow and based on ignorant pretences. But I knew the rules.

  I knew how to get what I want.

  And I knew where I stood with people.

  Where do I stand with Tuck? With Dad? With Mum?

  Where do I stand with Colt?

  It’s his loss that cuts the deepest. I never realised how badly we leant on each other in times of crisis until I no longer had his support.

  I miss him.

  So, do something about it, Lacey.

  My chest rises slowly, eyelashes brushing against my cheeks while I take a moment to gather myself. I’ve got this.

  I find Colt in his room, up on tiptoes while he checks he hasn’t left anything on the top shelf of the wardrobe. He clearly has no intention of coming back here—ever.

  Pushing aside the criticism that rests on the tip of my tongue, I take a step further into the room and clear my throat.

  His icy blue eyes swing my way and settle on me, fingers still on the edge of the shelf as he lowers himself to stand on flat feet. “Something to say?”

  “Something to ask.” I drop my chin and grasp my left elbow before shaking my hand out and adopting a more confident stance. “What happened to us?”

  He snorts, shaking his head as he turns for the bed. “We were forced to move to this shithole.”

  “I don’t mean that,” I snap. “I’m talking about your attitude toward me.”

  My pulse throbs heavily when he slowly pulls his head back and frowns. “My attitude?”

  I shift my weight between my feet and nod, unable to speak without fear of my voice shaking.

  “If I remember right, it was you who sided with these rednecks from the start, telling me to back off, let them do what they want. What happened to you?”

  “I adapted.” Tears sting at my eyes. “I made the most of this God-forsaken situation.” I snort and shake my head while I stare down at the floor. “You never wanted to try, though, did you?”

  “We were never meant to stay here,” he murmurs. “I never should have been made to come in the first place.”

  “Not that it was the first time,” I quip.

  His head snaps up; his brow pinched hard. “Something you’d like to share?”

  “Perhaps. Anything you’d like to admit first?”

  He snorts as though amused by my sudden aggressiveness toward him. “Anything else you need?”

  I turn away slightly, standing side on to Colt. “Not from you.”

  His gaze burns into me as he watches me leave.

  He admitted it was his plan all along to get back to Riverbourne. Sure, I wanted that at the start too, but when I realised that there was a chance at making a good life out here, I should have known that would cost me the one I knew.

  We have different viewpoints on what’s best for our family. We see things on opposite ends of the spectrum. How did I think Colt and I could continue as we were when we strive for different goals?

  I shove my bedroom door shut and lean back against it. Maybe Tuck was onto something after all? A break away from this madness would be great. The longer I stay in this house, with these people, the harder it gets to breathe.

  I need to get out of this pressure cooker and feel the night breeze in my hair.

  I need room to think.

  My feet pad softly across the floorboards, the wood cool under my skin thanks to the rapidly dropping temp outside. I snatch up my phone and then tug a jacket from my bags as I haphazardly message Maggie.

  L: Help. I need to get the fuck out of here.

  Her dots dance immediately.

  M: Fuck? Since when do you swear, Hollywood? She adds a laughing emoticon. I got you covered.

  L: Meet me at the corner.

  I shove my phone in one pocket, my feet in the boots Maggie and I bought my first week at Arcadia High. Dad’s reaction flashes through my mind, a pang of guilt settling in my chest. He’ll understand.

  If it were up to me, I’d stay. Given the option of living with Mum or Dad, I’d choose Dad over and over again. The life Mum wants to take me back to carries certain privileges, sure, but here I have the offer of freedom. No amount of money can buy the sense of relief and joy that brings.

  I haven’t had a single choice in what happens to me up to this point in my life.

  Maybe for once, I should?

  LACEY

  Gravel crunches loudly beneath the wheels of Maggie’s car as we turn in the driveway. The sound reminds me of the little firecrackers we would let off on Guy Fawkes Day before they were outlawed.

  I’m unsure where she takes me. All she said after she picked me up at the corner of my street was that the party is the last place I need to be. Too loud, too volatile, too many people who would be eager to take advantage of my fragile emotions.

  “How are you doing now?” Mags asks quietly.

  Her headlights reflect off the large windows of the building before us, highlighting her face. Arcadia RFC, the sign reads. I glance to the left and note the stands lining a grassy hill on one side of a large field.

  “I feel a little numb, to be honest.”

  She clicks her tongue and swings the car into a parking space. “Sounds like reality has set in.”

  “I guess.” It feels more as though I can’t be bothered giving energy to anything that doesn’t make me feel good: frustration, anger, disappointment. They’re all emotions I’ve had enough of for today. “Is this where you play?”

  “Sometimes.” She kills the engine and snags her woollen hat off the dash. “It’s also somewhere quiet to chill. I told Tuck he could find us here.”

  My stomach flips when she gets out of the car, leaving me to flail for a response in the dark after she shuts her door. She told Tuck to come here? I get out and follow Maggie over the wooden bumpers in front of the parking spaces, and to the far end of the field.

  “What happened to your Dad?” I ask Maggie while we climb moss-covered concrete bleachers. “Why’s he not around?”

  She glances over her shoulder at me and then promptly spins to sit, facing the enormous goal posts. “He left when I was little.”

  “Do you remember him?” I’m not sure why I ask, other for reassurance that after a while this change won’t hurt as bad as it does now.

  Maggie shakes her head, the ends of her short black hair sticking out haphazardly beneath her hat. “I’ve got, like, glimpses of him. But to be honest, I can’t tell fact from fiction; what’s a memory from what I’ve created from Mum’s stories of him.”

  “You haven’t heard from him since he left?” That sucks.

  She shakes her head again, chin dropping as she takes in her clasped hands.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Maggie shrugs. “I figure, if he can’t be bothered making contact with me then he’s not the kind of guy I want to know.”

  Wise.

  “Why are your parents splitting?” Maggie turns her head to watch me answer.

  I stare out over the ghostly field. Dim light seeps onto the grass from the clubrooms, yet the vast expanse of the area is shrouded in an eerie grey mist. “Colt said Mum is having an affair.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. And to top it off, it’s with a married man.” That’s what disgusts me the most about the whole situation.