Chapter 6
I stare at her for any signs she might be lying. I don’t really know the signs, but I don’t feel like she’s lying.
If my dad’s not in rehab, then where is he? And why isn’t he letting me live with him instead of making me stay with his brother?
“You saw my dad here?” I ask. “At the house?”
“Not at the house. In La Jolla.”
“Where?”
“I need to go,” she says, trying to get around me.
“Tell me where you saw him.”
“What’s going on?” Trystan’s voice says from behind me.
“I was just coming to get your dry cleaning,” Shayla says.
I turn to face Trystan. “She said she saw my dad here last week. Why didn’t you tell me he’s out of rehab?”
“Because he’s not. My dad went and saw him there yesterday.”
“Did he get moved to a place in La Jolla?”
“No. He’s at some place in the desert.” He looks at Shayla. “Why are you making shit up? We pay you to clean, not spread rumors.”
“Sorry,” she says, rushing past me. “Must’ve been someone else.”
She races down the hall, and I hear her shoes clicking on the stairs as she goes up to Trystan’s room.
“Why would she say that if it wasn’t true?” I ask.
“To mess with your head.” He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the wall. “You can’t trust people like her.”
“Why? Because she’s the maid?”
“She’s not the maid. She just helps out her mom sometimes.”
“Why can’t I trust her?”
“She’s not one of us. She wants to be part of our world but knows that she can’t. She knows you’re new so she knows she can mess with you. Make you believe shit.”
“I don’t get it. How does that benefit her?”
“Who the hell knows? Probably makes her feel powerful knowing she can make you question shit.”
“What if she’s right? What if my dad really was here last week?”
“Doing what? He has no reason to come here.”
“Maybe he wanted to see you and your brother.”
“If he wanted to see us, we’d go to him. Dad doesn’t like him coming to the house.”
“Why?”
“How should I know? I don’t talk to him about that shit. I barely talk to him at all.”
“Do you know when your dad’s coming here?”
“No clue. He doesn’t tell us. He just shows up.”
Shayla appears, holding a laundry basket full of clothes. “I think I got everything. I’ll have it back on Friday.” She looks at me. “Nice meeting you.”
“Yeah. You too.”
She walks off.
“I’m going to the gym,” Trystan says. “Stay out of my room.”
“Like I’d really want to go in there? I can’t even breathe with all the cologne.”
He goes upstairs while I go into my room.
I head into the closet and check out the new clothes from the stylist. I like the jeans she picked out, and some of the shirts are okay, but what’s with all the dresses?
I don’t wear dresses. Some are really fancy, like the kind you’d wear to a formal event.
Next, I examine what’s in the dressers. More new clothes — shorts, t-shirts, tanks. Even new pajamas.
After pulling out a pair of jean shorts and a tank, I go to the bathroom to shower. I feel gross after being on the plane all night.
Having my own bathroom is a luxury. My mom and I always shared a bathroom, and it was small, and needed updating. This one is new and modern and has a big walk-in shower and soaking tub.
After a long hot shower, I put on my new clothes and head to the kitchen. I open the massive fridge, hoping some real food magically appeared since the time I last checked.
No such luck. The fridge is still filled with stuff I’d never eat.
“There’s gotta be something in here,” I say to myself as I reach toward the back of the fridge. I pull out a plastic container and set it on the granite counter. When I open it, the smell gags me. It’s dozens of hard-boiled eggs, peeled and ready to eat.
I quickly close the lid. “Who the hell needs that many hard-boiled eggs?”
After putting them back in the fridge, I search the freezer. Nothing but raw chicken and frozen fruits and vegetables.
“What is wrong with these people?” I say, closing the freezer.
Next, I go through each cupboard, then do a search of the walk-in pantry. There isn’t a single bag of chips to be found. I can’t even find bread. But I did find peanut butter. It’s all-natural, no sugar added, but I’m desperate.
Grabbing the jar, I take it to the counter and find a spoon.
I dip the spoon in the peanut butter and take a bite.
“Ugh,” I say, gagging on it. “How did they make peanut butter taste this bad?”
I close the jar and throw the spoon in the sink.
My eyes go to the drawer where I saw the protein bars. Some of them were chocolate. They’re as close to a candy bar as I’m going to get.
Trystan said Braden would kill me if I ate one, but how’s he going to know? It’s not like he’s going to count them.
Opening the drawer, I grab one and rip off the wrapper and take a bite. It doesn’t taste like candy but it’s better than I thought it’d be. I hop up on the counter, savoring each bite because it’s probably all I’ll be eating for dinner.
When I’m done, I go to hop off the counter, but someone blocks me. A guy with wide shoulders, arms lined with muscle, and a look on his face like he’s about to kill me.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he asks.
“To my room,” I say, my heart thumping. “Got a problem with that?”
He picks up the wrapper and holds it in front of my face. “What the hell is this?”
“Garbage,” I say, meeting his stare. He looks just like Brock. Dark hair. Dark eyes. That square-cut jaw. “I’d throw it out if you’d get the hell out of my way.”
“Trystan told you to stay the fuck away from my stuff.”
I smile. “I’m not the best listener.”
“You better learn to be. You don’t take what’s not yours.”
“Seriously? It’s a protein bar. You have like a million in there. And you can get more.”
“I have thirty.” He drops the wrapper on my lap. “I had thirty. And those aren’t bars you buy at the store. They’re specially designed for my body and training schedule. They’re from Australia and it takes weeks to get a new shipment.”
“That’s insane,” I say, trying to get down. He doesn’t move, so my attempt to get down just gets me closer to him.
He leans into my face. “Don’t ever touch my shit again.”
“Or what?” I say in a challenging tone.
“You don’t want to find out.” He slowly backs away.
I jump off the counter. “If I can’t eat your precious protein bars, what am I supposed to eat?”
He opens the fridge door. “Help yourself.”
“There’s nothing in there that’s edible.”
He closes the fridge. “Then I guess you won’t eat.” He turns to leave.
“Wait!” I catch up to him. He’s tall. And big. A lot bigger than his brother. “Is there somewhere to eat around here?”
He looks me up and down, his eyes pausing on my chest. This tank top is tight. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
“My eyes are up here, asshole,” I say.
He half-smiles. “You’re not what I expected.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not what I expected.” He turns and continues down the hall.
“Nice to meet you too!” I yell at him. “Jerk!”
I hear him laugh as he goes up the stairs.
I was hoping Braden would be the nice one, but he’s an even bigger ass than his brother.
Bored and still hungry, I go out the front door, deciding to explore a little. Maybe there’s a place to eat down the road.
Getting out my phone as I walk, I text Axl.
I hate my cousins.
Why? he texts back.
They’re rude. Obnoxious. And yell at me for eating their food.
Keep doing it.
I smile and text, I plan to.
I miss you.
I miss you too, I respond, my heart aching to be with him. I can’t go a whole year without seeing him. If Brock really gives me all that money for an allowance, I’m going to use it to go see Axl.
What are you doing tonight? I text.
Haven’t decided. Senna wants to go see a band.
Senna is my friend from high school. She’s a really good guitar player. She wants to join a band and go on tour. She dyes her hair pink and shaves it on one side. I haven’t seen her much since school got out last May. Axl is friends with her, too, but only because of me.
Senna called you? I ask.
She came in the store today.
That’s cool, I text, trying to ignore the jolt of jealousy that raced through me at the thought of them hanging out without me.
You think you’ll go?
Not sure. What are you doing?
Trying to find something to eat, I text as my flip-flop catches on a crack in the sidewalk. As I go to fix it, my phone flies out of my hand.
“Shit.” I go to reach for it and collide with something hard.
“Watch it!” a deep voice yells as two big arms go around me, pulling me back to standing.
I slammed into his chest. How embarrassing!
“Sorry,” I say as he lets me go.
He’s huge. And freaking hot. Short dark hair. Gorgeous blue eyes. Dark tan. He must’ve been running because he’s all sweaty and not wearing a shirt. Holy shit, his abs are amazing. And his shoulders. His arms.
Maybe he’s an actor. Or a model. Guys this hot don’t work regular jobs.
He picks up my phone and hands it to me. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I stare at him, drinking in his good looks.
“Watch where you’re going next time. I almost knocked you over.” He takes off down the sidewalk.
“You live around here?” I yell at him.
He must not have heard me because he keeps running. He’s really fast.
How did he get a body like that? He must work out constantly. Braden had a good body, too. If he weren’t my cousin, I’d say he’s hot. But his personality ruins it. I can’t believe he yelled at me for eating his stupid protein bars.
My phone dings. I look down and see two texts from Axl.
Where are you?
Rumor?
I call him.
“Sorry,” I say when he answers. “Dropped my phone.”
“I need to head out. I told Senna I’d meet her there. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You can’t talk later tonight?”
“It’ll be too late when I get back. Band plays until two.”
“Two in the morning? You’re staying out that late?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“No reason,” I say, that jealous feeling now eating away at my stomach. “Tell Senna I said hi.”
“I will. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too.”