Page 10 of Charming Cruel Boys

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Friday night comes fast. The end of the first week of senior year. Little miss Remi Williams avoided me at every opportunity. Even all my pestering and comments about Duke’s sex life in calculus didn’t faze her. I’m not stupid. She still thinks the sun shines out of my brother’s asshole, and every word I say about him hurts her, but she sure is good at putting on a mask.

I didn’t realize she was so tough. I expected to have her in tears in a matter of days. A swell of pride shoots through my chest, even though I tell myself to get the fuck over it. But I can’t help it. I never knew Remi would handle my shit so well. Not many girls can... Makes me wonder how far I can push her.

Since my drunken conversation with Duke Tuesday night, he hasn’t brought her up again. He probably thinks I was too drunk to remember. I’m glad for the insight, though. Now I know he still has feelings for her.Well, that makes two of us, man. Sucks, doesn’t it?

It’s literal hell wanting to so desperately fuck someone who could tear my entire world apart. I wish it were as simple as getting over her, but I’ve been trying. Remi’s got her claws in deep.

The very first time I saw her, we were in elementary school. We’ve all grown up together in the suburbs of little Mountain Ridge. Back then, though, I just thought she was this weird, loner kid. She had one friend, that’s it. That red-headed guy she still hangs around with. I didn’t pay her any attention.

It wasn’t until I was walking down the hall, very first day of high school that everything changed. Remi was walking with George — I think that’s his name, anyway — and she tipped her head back and laughed right as she passed me. The raspy sound along with her floral perfume had me harder than a rock in about five seconds. I’ve been so damn screwed ever since.

The fact that Duke actually got to have her for a short while? I don’t understand how he’s not weeping on her fucking doorstep now. Of course, I’ve played a big part of that. The second I realized she could never be trusted around my family, I started poisoning Duke’s mind. The question is, can I keep it up when he’s sleeping just down the hall from her? More importantly, can I keep myself away from that temptation?

I’ll have to tread very carefully.

Duke’s like a wounded puppy, just desperate for affection from the right person and all his pain will wash away. I have a feeling Remi is that person for him, no matter how much he thinks he despises her. One wrong move, and I’ll be up to my eyeballs in a shit storm trying to keep them apart. It’ll be near impossible when we’re all living together, which is happening this fucking weekend.

Apparently, this is something Mom has been planning for a while because, unbeknownst to Duke and I, she’s had the house up for sale and hosted viewings this entire week while we’ve been at school. I thought it’s been a little too clean and put together lately, but I never questioned it. Now, I wish I had.

My never-ending grief about Dad rises to dangerous heights as I think about leaving my childhood home, leaving all the memories of my father behind. Like the dent in the dining room wall where he tried standing on the table to change a lightbulb and the whole thing tipped over. Or the barbecue pit in the backyard where Dad would grill every Sunday, Mom would garden, and Duke and I would mess around with a football or something. We were always a close-knit family, but with Dad gone, that’s started to shatter. It hurts, and with the pain comes the guilt. He should still be alive. He should be here with us. It’s my fault that he’s not…

Throwing on a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and my trusty ass-kicker boots, I grab a bottle of whiskey from the stash under my bed of stolen bottles and make my way out of my room.“Let’s go, asswipe,” I say as I pound on Duke’s door. “I’m not missing this party.”

Duke swings the door open, looking all fresh and preppy in gray jeans and a white button-up. He looks down at my hand and raises his brows. “You know there’ll be alcohol there, right?”

I shrug. “Not enough. Never is. I’d rather bring my own and guarantee I get shitty.”

“When did you start drinking so much, man?” Duke asks, concern lacing his voice.He gives me this open, sad expression like he wishes he could fix me right back up. Sorry, bro. Nothing can do that anymore.

My stomach lurches as I think back to when all of my issues started. Nobody knows what happened. Only Dad, and now he’s dead. He got shot in a parking lot the night after I told him, died four hours later in the emergency room. I’m not naive enough to think it’s a coincidence.

Instead of answering him, I turn on my heels and head to the garage, hopping into the black Ram 2500 we share. Duke gets into the driver’s side and shoots me a warning look. “Alright, rules, Knight. One” — he holds up a finger — “no drugs. Drink to your heart’s content, but don’t fuck with the hard shit, got it?” I nod with a huff, and he continues. “Two” — he reaches into his pocket and throws a few condoms into my lap — “if you’re going to screw some bitch tonight, wrap it first. You don’t need any STDs or a baby.”

I snort. “Don’t I know it, brother.”Duke turns the ignition and backs out of our driveway. “Hey, I’ve got a rule for you,” I say with a smirk, playing with my lighter absently.

“I don’t need rules, Knight. I can control myself.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine, what?”

“Don’t speak to Remi tonight. Don’t even look at her,” I challenge, flashing a sharp smile.

His jaw tics and his knuckles turn white over the steering wheel. “That goes without saying.”

“Yeah, well, I said it. I’ll stick to my rules if you do the same. Agreed?”

Duke nods and turns up the music, cutting off whatever else he thinks I might say.Someone’s touchy.

We pull up to Andrew Lock’s mansion of a house a few minutes later. It’s one of the few giant homes in Mountain Ridge. It’s not a particularly rich town, more lower-middle class, so you take notice when wealthy people move in and start building.

I hop out and walk straight for the front door. Andrew’s parents are away on another one of their cruises, not giving a shit what their son gets up to while they’re gone. It’s always like that, so his house is usually the go-to, and tonight is no different.

I grin as I push through the crowd, taking a long sip from my bottle. Time to get wasted and forget about everything.My favorite hobby.

7

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