Page 27 of Heartbreak Kings
Chapter 11
Sabine
Last night,an old nightmare had plagued me. Reliving the day Mom and I had realized that we had to leave New York City. I had come home from high school to Mom in tears, telling me we had to move to Hellbender to live on her sister’s land. We were being evicted. There was no money for a deposit on a new apartment. There was barely enough money to get us there, over to the ass-end of an upstate county, in a town too tiny to offer jobs and too far away for a commute.
Mom, who had fought for five years to keep our heads above water after losing Dad, had cried so hard, her asthma had flared up and nearly landed us with another hospital bill. She had seen it as her failure, but I had known better, even then. The VA, which had never given Mom the proper benefits after Dad’s death, had screwed us. As had her employers, who had worked her to the bone until her health had given out. And lastly, the system, which did nothing for its poor.
In the nightmare, all those details had muddled together, but the horrible, raw feeling of failure and betrayal had gnawed at me just as fiercely. Worse, this time, the landlord had locked us out with the truck keys still sitting on that tiny studio’s kitchen table, and he wouldn’t let us in to get them. The sense of being hopelessly stranded on top of everything else had made me wake up with tears on my cheeks.
I had nearly taken the day off. But Mom hadn’t sacrificed her health to see me wussing out and dodging classes, so off I had gone, only to run into one of the last guys I had expected to see.
I had sworn never to see the “Gentlemen” again, and here I was, letting one of them take me out to lunch. As I lingered over my burger, I considered the big, blond German with his intriguing amber eyes and wished that he weren’t part of their group. He was every bit as attractive as the others on a physical level, and he did have a lot of charm. But I knew better than to trust him.
Daniel was at least more willing to answer questions rather than ask them. Maybe he had learned his lesson last night.
“What you’re saying to me is that most of last night was an act to get me to leave voluntarily, but you were all so conflicted over the fact that you botched it up?” I lifted an eyebrow as I watched his face. Liars usually glanced upward and to the right.
His eyes didn’t leave mine at all. “Think about it. Do you really think the most prestigious fraternity on Long Island would allow an immature ass, such as Jude was pretending to be, into our inner circle? None of us would stand for it.”
“But you let Mikey Carmody and some guys like him become pledges.”
“Carmody is a perpetual pledge. Because his father is a member and a heavy donor, we cannot turn him away. But he’s failed every single attempt to gain membership, every year he has been here, because of his own immaturity, poor attitude, and lack of discipline.”
I nodded slowly, but I wanted confirmation. “Jude’s fuckery was acting?”
“Mostly. He can be an ass, but that can be said of most nineteen-year-old men.” He took an enormous bite of his hamburger. He had ordered it with a fried egg on top, which was bizarre for me, but I had followed suit, and it was actually tasty.
I was still very wary. “You and your people are trying to get me to leave.”
“Before we knew your full circumstances and got to know you, yes. I imagine that if you weren’t beautiful, we might not have reconsidered so quickly. But you are both lovely and spirited, and well, the only men who truly resent your being around are those who want you but don’t have a ghost of a chance with you.” He winked.
My eyebrow went up a degree farther this time. “And you think you do?” But inside, my stomach was curdling at the very thought of Carmody lusting after me, yet wanting to drive me away, hurt me, maybe even kill me, instead of doing anything sane or natural to follow through on those feelings. Though, Daniel was right; that vile bastard wouldn’t have a chance in hell with me.
In high school, dysfunctional, sexist fuckheads like Carmody got the Neckbeard label. He deserved it. He didn’t entirely look like one—his clothes were too expensive, and his manner more whiny than pompous—but he ticked all the other boxes. Guys like that were the kind people tolerated only because you didn’t know what kind of violence fetish they were walking around with or how much access to guns they had. Nobody wanted them around, least of all women.
“I’m sure our chances are less after last night, but I don’t know anyone among the five of us who wouldn’t give it their best try. Especially after learning of why you’re fighting so hard to stay here.”
Was that sympathy in his tone? Could I trust it?
“I’ll be blunt,” I replied with an inaudible sigh. “You are lucky I am agreeing to speak with you at all after last night.” His smile faded, and I saw guilt in his eyes. “I’m tired. I have a full course load, my blog, my mom, and—thanks to guys like Carmody—my personal safety to worry about. I don’t have time or inclination to give any of my remaining energy to guys who are going to dick around and play head games.”
“I’m not playing head games,” he protested gently. Again, his gaze didn’t float. If he was lying, he had a lot of self-control. “In fact, I promise never to lie to you.”
I blinked at him. That was a lot to promise, especially since he knew I was a reporter. “Really?”
He crossed himself. “On my honor.”
I stared back at him. “We’ll see. I need to know some things, and if you want me to keep listening to you, I need some answers.”
“If I can answer them, I will gladly do so.” That smile again. I hated how it warmed me to look at him. Whereas Blake was always serious and Marcus was playful, Daniel struck me as the guy who could talk his way behind the counter at a bank.Dangerous.
“Fine. Let’s start with the big one. How much danger am I in from Carmody?” I bit one of my curly fries in half, trying to ignore how the thought of that bastard made my stomach clench.
He sat back in his chair, eyes going thoughtful, then hooded. “He’s got no record, and he’s never been violent in the years he’s been here.”
“You mean, he’s never been violent toward men.” It was an important distinction. There were men who were notoriously cowardly when facing fellow males, but that didn’t extend to women. In fact, some hated women so much that they would fly into blind rages whenever rejected, or even spoken to in a manner that was less than deferential.
“No.” A note of worry had entered his lightly accented voice. “Not toward men. There was an incident with a female literature professor two years ago,”
