one.
“You slept with your stepmother,” she hisses. Her words cut me, but only because she doesn’t know the half of it. She’s judging me, looking at me with cold, piercing eyes I’d once found alluring.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Judging me, like you know fuck about what I’ve been through.”
“You’re a sexual deviant, Jensen. You get off on… incest.”
“We’re not fucking related, Waverly.”
“I can’t be around you anymore.” She folds her arms. “I’m going to ask Dad to move you into Summer’s house tomorrow.”
Have fun explaining that…
“Whatever helps you sleep.”
I toss my hands up. I don’t appreciate being treated like a shit stain, and I fucking hate assumptions. My nostrils flare, and my blood threatens to burn clear through my veins if I don’t do something quick. I could stand here and explain myself to her, give a crash course in my life that would leave her disturbed, tell her things she’ll never be able to un-hear.
Or…
I can just leave. Walk away.
For the longest time, I didn’t have that option with Josiah.
I have it now.
I can just walk out of here and mourn the words I’ll never have a chance to say because no one tries to fucking understand.
Besides, I don’t need to explain myself to her. My life is none of her damn business. I’m not sure what I ever saw in her anyway aside from the fact that she was a sexy as fuck, impossibly uptight virgin I was dying to unwind. I thought I maybe there was something good in her, something worth salvaging. A hunger for something real behind those pale blue eyes.
I was dead wrong.
Fucking waste of time, is what she is.
That’s fine.
We’ll live like two passing ships in the night for the next few months. As soon as August comes, I’ll slip out of here and buy a bus ticket to L.A. She can marry some secret polygamist who receives her father’s stamp of approval, and she can pop out a bunch of babies and judge people to her little heart’s content.
I must have blacked out between that moment and now, because suddenly I’m sitting behind the driver’s seat of my truck, my left foot on the clutch and the right one on the brake as I start her up.
She’s loud as hell, and I might wake up the whole neighborhood, but I don’t care. I fly across town, getting the fuck away from the Miller Circus, and speed into a parking spot outside the shop. The light is on at Liberty’s place.
I’ve only worked with her a couple days, but she seems like a pretty cool chick. She’s the only friend I have in this stupid ass town, and right now I need to get as far away from everything as possible.
“Hey,” she says as she pulls the door open. She lives in a little apartment above her father’s shop. “What are you doing here? Need into the shop?”
There’s music coming from behind her, which I assume is her guitar-wielding boyfriend, Kian. I met him at work yesterday when he came in to drop dinner off for her.
She examines my face and chews on her lip. “Shit go down at Uncle Mark’s?”
I shrug.
“Oh, God. What’d he do?” Liberty pulls the door wide and welcomes me in. I lock eyes with Kian, who’s cradling a cherry red Fender guitar and gives me a tightlipped smile.
Kian’s wearing a white tank top that shows off his sleeves. Every inch of his arms is covered in multicolored tats.
My people.
“Mark didn’t do anything,” I say, taking a seat on a stained, velour sofa. I’m not sure what color it’s supposed to be, but it ain’t pretty. Judging by the general appearance of her apartment, it’s been ridden hard and put away wet one too many times. Empty beer cans line the kitchen sink, and there’s a perpetual beer-burp scent in the air. These are the people my father warned me about, and they’re the nicest, most laidback people I’ve ever met in my life.
“Oh.” Liberty scratches the side of her head and slides in next to Kian, resting her head on
“You slept with your stepmother,” she hisses. Her words cut me, but only because she doesn’t know the half of it. She’s judging me, looking at me with cold, piercing eyes I’d once found alluring.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Judging me, like you know fuck about what I’ve been through.”
“You’re a sexual deviant, Jensen. You get off on… incest.”
“We’re not fucking related, Waverly.”
“I can’t be around you anymore.” She folds her arms. “I’m going to ask Dad to move you into Summer’s house tomorrow.”
Have fun explaining that…
“Whatever helps you sleep.”
I toss my hands up. I don’t appreciate being treated like a shit stain, and I fucking hate assumptions. My nostrils flare, and my blood threatens to burn clear through my veins if I don’t do something quick. I could stand here and explain myself to her, give a crash course in my life that would leave her disturbed, tell her things she’ll never be able to un-hear.
Or…
I can just leave. Walk away.
For the longest time, I didn’t have that option with Josiah.
I have it now.
I can just walk out of here and mourn the words I’ll never have a chance to say because no one tries to fucking understand.
Besides, I don’t need to explain myself to her. My life is none of her damn business. I’m not sure what I ever saw in her anyway aside from the fact that she was a sexy as fuck, impossibly uptight virgin I was dying to unwind. I thought I maybe there was something good in her, something worth salvaging. A hunger for something real behind those pale blue eyes.
I was dead wrong.
Fucking waste of time, is what she is.
That’s fine.
We’ll live like two passing ships in the night for the next few months. As soon as August comes, I’ll slip out of here and buy a bus ticket to L.A. She can marry some secret polygamist who receives her father’s stamp of approval, and she can pop out a bunch of babies and judge people to her little heart’s content.
I must have blacked out between that moment and now, because suddenly I’m sitting behind the driver’s seat of my truck, my left foot on the clutch and the right one on the brake as I start her up.
She’s loud as hell, and I might wake up the whole neighborhood, but I don’t care. I fly across town, getting the fuck away from the Miller Circus, and speed into a parking spot outside the shop. The light is on at Liberty’s place.
I’ve only worked with her a couple days, but she seems like a pretty cool chick. She’s the only friend I have in this stupid ass town, and right now I need to get as far away from everything as possible.
“Hey,” she says as she pulls the door open. She lives in a little apartment above her father’s shop. “What are you doing here? Need into the shop?”
There’s music coming from behind her, which I assume is her guitar-wielding boyfriend, Kian. I met him at work yesterday when he came in to drop dinner off for her.
She examines my face and chews on her lip. “Shit go down at Uncle Mark’s?”
I shrug.
“Oh, God. What’d he do?” Liberty pulls the door wide and welcomes me in. I lock eyes with Kian, who’s cradling a cherry red Fender guitar and gives me a tightlipped smile.
Kian’s wearing a white tank top that shows off his sleeves. Every inch of his arms is covered in multicolored tats.
My people.
“Mark didn’t do anything,” I say, taking a seat on a stained, velour sofa. I’m not sure what color it’s supposed to be, but it ain’t pretty. Judging by the general appearance of her apartment, it’s been ridden hard and put away wet one too many times. Empty beer cans line the kitchen sink, and there’s a perpetual beer-burp scent in the air. These are the people my father warned me about, and they’re the nicest, most laidback people I’ve ever met in my life.
“Oh.” Liberty scratches the side of her head and slides in next to Kian, resting her head on
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