1. Nell
CHAPTER 1
Nell
“ L ook at her.”
“She’s so ugly.”
“Smelly Nelly the trucker.”
Laughter follows me. Down the halls. Into the classrooms. Out the doors. There’s no reprieve. It’s never-ending. Nell Tucker—that’s me—is the poster child for loser, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
I was the new girl in Edmonton, Alberta two years ago and because I was shy, kids picked on me. It took a few months before the name-calling began, but as soon as they found out my dad, the sweetest man on the planet, was a trucker, it became worse.
Some kids have always been crueler than others. Becky Meyers was the absolute worst. She started with the new “nicknames” and finished with smacking me around. I tried to fight back once. I ended up with a broken pinky and a black eye for my troubles. Thankfully, Dad was out of town long enough for the bruising to heal, and I lied my way through the fractured finger.
If he had known what went on at school, that I was bullied every day, guilt would eat him alive. He beats himself up enough for being gone for such long periods of time as it is.
I never wanted to move to Edmonton, but after Mom died from alcohol poisoning three years ago, the memories in our house, our town, were too much to bear. Rocky Mountain House is a small enough town that everyone knew our business. They knew Mom was a drinker before I was born, and it got worse when she was in an accident that left her unable to work.
She wasn’t a bad mother, just absent. She still loved me, loved Dad. But she loved the bottle more. So much so that she’s trapped with an empty one forever. The very last bottle of vodka that took her life went with her in her coffin.
I was so angry with her. I was mad she chose the drink over Dad and me, and so after the viewing was finished, after friends and family put little trinkets or memories in her coffin, I did, too. I wanted her to know that I would never forget, and her punishment should be to spend eternity tormented by the poison she chose over us.
When we moved to the big city, I thought life would carry on the same way. I’ve always been quiet, I had a few good friends back home, but I wasn’t prepared for the cruelty of high school here. Grade twelve was supposed to be the year I blossomed, decided on college, what I wanted to do with my life. In reality,I sit in the back of every class; I don’t go out of my way to answer the teachers. I cower by my locker and avoid eye contact with nearly everyone. Everyone that is, except him …
The new kid. Which is a relative term since he doesn’t look like a kid at all. He’s massive. Tattoos cover everywhere but his face. And his eyes… Lord, his eyes. The first time we made eye contact three weeks ago, they saw straight through to my soul.
I could tell he understood my pain, my reluctance to be here.
Somehow, Law Brentwood knew everything there was to know about me in less than ten seconds of intense connection.
I don’t actively search him out, but it’s been unavoidable, even in such a large school. I’m drawn to Law in a way that I’ve never experienced before, and there are times where I think he feels the same, but even when we cross paths, he doesn’t go out of his way to talk to me, so I’ve never initiated a conversation. I’m too afraid of the rejection.
“Boo!” I’ve mentioned I cower at my locker, right? Dallas Edwards is the reason why. He’s captain of the football team and chief tormentor when he finds me alone. “Looking lonely over here, Smelly Trucker.” His harsh whisper in my ear is so hard to ignore.
“Not at all,” I murmur, shrugging my shoulder so his overly saturated cologned body will back off. It doesn’t work. I think he slides closer.
“Maybe you want some company?” His voice is friendly enough when he moves to stand in front of me, forcing the book I’m trying to read to squish against my chest. My hands are stuck between our bodies. “Maybe you want more than anyone knows.” The light in his eyes is predatory, and if I had to guess, he’s high as a kite. I recognize the dilated pupils.
“No, thanks.” I try to push him off, but he only encroaches on me more.
Right now, I really wish I had my dad’s height and bulk instead of my mom’s wispy frame. “Oh, come on Smelly Nell, you’d like my company. We both know that.” His fingers graze my cheek, and I can’t hide my cringe of disgust.
“I said no, Dallas.”
“So, you do know my name.” He’s triumphant until I roll my eyes. Within a split second, he flips from being flirty and teasing to filled with rage. “Don’t act like you’re fucking better than me you little cock tease. We all know I could get into your pants without a problem, and there’s nothing you or anybody else could do about it.”
Before I get a chance to do or say anything, a large hand covered in mysterious tattoos is wrapped around his neck, and a menacing growl follows an angry face. “Get. The. Fuck. Off my girl.” I don’t know who’s more shocked by Law’s words: me, him, or Dallas.