Page 45 of Wilder Love
I took another drag of my cigarette, feeling the nicotine course through my bloodstream. It made me lightheaded. I always said I’d never smoke cigarettes. I said I’d never do a lot of things.
I was a liar.
Over the past few weeks, I had tried to tell myself I wasn’t that girl. I wasn’t the girl who would allow a boy to bully and blackmail her in return for a blowjob. Forsex.
I was not that girl.
Except that I was that girl.
Tristan returned to my bedroom, freshly showered, and plucked his jeans off the floor. He took his time getting dressed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat on the edge to put on his designer high tops. What did it matter if he had screwed me once or a thousand times? I was damaged goods.
My cell beeped with a message. It was sitting on the crate that acted as my bedside table. I didn’t turn my head to look. I knew who it was. Shane was home. He’d texted a few times already, before Tristan arrived and I’d ignored his messages. What could I say? Tristan Hart is coming over to screw my brains out?
“You got what you wanted. Now leave,” I told Tristan. I took another drag of my cigarette and kept staring out the window, at the palm trees and the backs of the terracotta-roofed houses as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
He laughed, but not in a boyish way. He laughed like a marauder who had raped, pillaged and plundered, and was about to burn the whole village to the ground. I should have known he wouldn’t leave me in peace. “I wanted to see how far you would go, little lamb. I wasn’t sure you’d fall for it.” He scoffed. “You didn’t actually believe that I would report Shane Wilder to the cops, did you? I don’t give a shit if he screws the entire JV cheering squad.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would block out his words. That he would just shut up already. But of course, he didn’t. He wanted to make sure there was no reasonable doubt left in my mind. Tristan loved nothing better than to watch me burn. He lit the match and threw it on the kerosene. I tossed my cigarette out the window. I’d become so careless.
“In case I need to spell it out for you, you’ve been played. Screwed. Fucked over. It’s been fun, little lamb. Have a good life. Oh. Wait.” He snapped his fingers. “You have no future beyond this shitty apartment.”
He threw a few twenties on the mattress, the ultimate insult, a nod to the fact that he had treated me like a prostitute. I hurled my Converse at his head as he walked out of my room. It hit him squarely in the back. As he retreated down the hallway, I heard him laughing. Seconds later, the front door closed behind him and I let his words sink in, and the tears fall.
Everything I had done had been for nothing. I’d been played.
Why would someone go to so much trouble to ruin another person’s life? You would think by now that a girl like me would stop questioning the horrible, ugly, crazy things people did.
After all, I was my mother’s daughter. And I knew what I needed to do—set Shane free.
18
Shane
My season was off to a good start. I had some of my best heats in Australia. This was going to be my year. I could feel it in my gut. I was at the top of my game. My star was rising. Everything was right with the world, my dreams so close I could reach out and touch them.
As I showered, washing off the stale scent of travel, my thoughts drifted to Remy. On the eighteen-hour flight, I’d had plenty of time to think about our future. When she graduated, she could move in with me. We’d travel together, live together, spend our nights together. I had a few contacts I could put her in touch with. We had talked about her becoming a surfing photographer and being on tour with me would be the perfect opportunity for that, and for making surfing videos.
I toweled off and dressed in a T-shirt and shorts then chugged a bottle of water. Jet lag was a bitch and my body was still operating on a different time zone. I needed fresh air, exercise, and Remy. Not necessarily in that order. I shoved my feet into Vans and strode to my front door just as a knock sounded on it.
I swung the door open and my lips curved into a smile. “Hey Firefly. I’ve missed you.”
Her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey Shane. How was your flight?”
“It was fine.” I studied her face for a moment. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. Something was wrong. Not only did she look less than thrilled to see me, her arms were crossed over her chest, warding me off, her shoulders rigid. “What’s wrong, Remy?”
She gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes darting around, looking everywhere but at me. “We need to talk, Shane.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. This was not how I pictured our happy reunion. My stomach sank.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
The first thought that entered my head was that she was pregnant. I’d always been careful, but accidents happened. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best timing, but I didn’t hate the idea either. We’d make it work. If she was scared, I’d let her know I’d be there for her every step of the way.
“Let’s take a walk.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Um… can I just come in? For a minute?”
I held the door open for her and she walked past me.
