Page 14 of The Rowdy Ones
Why did he have to mess everything up? We might’ve actually had something good, but then he got drugs involved, and everything unraveled from there.
Movement catches my eye and I snap my head up. Three people exit the building. The wind sweeps up familiar blond hair, dancing off to the side like it’s able to guide the girl it’s attached to somewhere else. The others beside Destiny are Gwen and a man I don’t recognize.
I’m out of the truck in half a second, eager to get over to her.
As I stalk toward them, Gwen gives me a forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. The guy next to them narrows his eyes at me, stiffening. And then, like I’m a threat, he steps in front of my sister to protect her.
Mysister.
Mine.
Not his.
“Dez,” I growl, letting her know I’m here for her. “What took so long?”
Gwen’s lips thin into a line. The guy scowls at me. Great. They hate me. I don’t give a fuck.
Destiny cocks her head slightly to the side. “Rowdy! I learned how to use my phone today. I can text and—”
“Aunt Eve was cooking when I left. It’s probably done now,” I grind out, eyes boring into the guy who’s standing too close to my sister. “Let’s go.”
Destiny’s excitement fades and she visibly shuts down. I feel like an absolute monster, but right now, I just want to get her away from these people. They make me nervous.
“Weston,” the guy says, voice sharp like a blade. “You must be the brother she spoke about. I’m Gwen’s son.”
Even more reason to hate him.
I don’t take his offered hand, instead, eyeing it like it’s diseased. He makes a chuffing sound and then drops his arm.
“Okaaaay,” Weston mumbles. Then, completely ignoring me, he turns to Destiny and dials up the charm. “Call me later, chef.”
Chef?
What the fuck does that mean?
She giggles at what clearly is an inside joke, and my insides boil. Without thinking, I take hold of her arm. The injured one. Fuck. She cries out in pain, instantly making me feel diabolical.
“Oh, fuck, Dez,” I hiss. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Tears well in her eyes and her cheeks are red. From pain or humiliation, I’m not sure. Regardless, I’ve done this to her.
Gwen glowers at me and Weston’s nostrils flare. They seriously can’t stand me. Feeling’s mutual.
“It’s fine,” Destiny bites out, voice wobbling. “Thanks, Gwen. Nice meeting you, Weston.”
This time, I offer her my arm. She grabs hold of it and starts walking away from them. I have to guide her toward where the truck is parked since she has no idea where she’s going. When we reach the truck and I open her door for her, she wrenches her arm away from me.
“I can do it myself. Thank you.”
The iciness in her words chills me to the bone. I’m ruining this for her. Disgust at myself creeps through me. It feels much like it did when I woke up in the hospital after nearly dying. Screwup. That’s all I am.
I take my time walking over to my side of the truck and make the mistake of looking over at Weston and Gwen. They’re standing close, staring at us, neither of them looking very happy. I’m tempted to flip Weston off but refrain for Destiny’s sake.
As soon as the door closes and I start the vehicle, Destiny lays into me.
“That was rude,” she bites out.
I stiffen at her words. “I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to grab your injured arm.”
