Page 6 of Too Late

I squeeze my eyes shut, scared to turn around, unaware that we were being observed.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he says. He spins me around and I open one eye, then the other, hoping the shock I feel in my stomach isn’t clearly sprawled across my face. Leaning up against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest and a hard look in his eyes, is all six feet of Carter.

The guy I flirted with in class just a few hours ago.

I gasp, mostly because he’s the last person I expected to see here. Standing in front of him now is suddenly more intimidating than sitting next to him in class was this morning. He’s a lot taller than I thought—taller than Asa, even. He’s not as defined as Asa, but then again, Asa works out every day and, based on the size of his biceps, probably dabbles in steroids. Carter is more naturally built, with a darker complexion and darker hair—and at the moment, very dark, angry eyes.

“Hey,” Carter says, easing his expression with a smile, extending his hand to me without a trace of recognition on his face. I realize he’s pretending not to know me for my own benefit—or perhaps forhisown benefit, so I return his handshake, introducing myself to him for the second time today.

“I’m Sloan,” I say shakily, hoping he can’t feel my racing pulse through the palm of my hand. I cut the handshake short and pull back. “So how do you and Asa know each other?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer, but the question spills out of my mouth anyway.

Asa puts his arm around my waist and spins me in the other direction, away from Carter. “He’s my new business partner, and right now we’ve got business to conduct. Go clean somewhere else.” He pats me on the ass, attempting to shoo me away like a dog. I spin around and scowl at him, but it’s not nearly as intense as the hatred spilling out of Carter’s eyes as he watches Asa.

I normally don’t push things with Asa, especially in front of other people, but I can’t help my temper right now. I’m furious at his cavalier attitude about bringing in someone else, despite the fact that he promised me he was getting out. I also can’t deny the fact that I’m pissed that it’s Carter. I’m angry with myself for developing a false first impression of him in class today. I thought I was better at reading people, but the fact that he’s involved with Asa shows me that I don’t know a damn thing about reading anyone. He’s just like the rest of them, but I should expect it by now. As hard as I try—as hard as it was leaving my childhood home in order to get away from this same type of lifestyle, only to end up right back in it—it makes me feel ignorant. My parents were users and I swore that as soon as I could get away from their dangerous lifestyles, I would leave and never look back. But here I am at twenty-one years old, already living a life that is no better than the one I grew up in. How can I crave and work toward a normal life so incredibly bad, yet I keep falling right back in the middle of this shit? It’s a damn curse.

“Asa, you promised.” I toss my hand in Carter’s direction. “Hiring new people isn’t getting out … it’s getting in deeper.”

I feel hypocritical asking him to stop doing what he does. Every month I let him send a check for Stephen’s care with the same dirty money I wish he wasn’t making. But it’s easier for me to allow that, since it’s not for me. I’d take the dirtiest money there is if it meant my little brother would be taken care of.

Asa’s eyes grow dark and he takes a step toward me. He gently places his hands on my arms and rubs them up and down. He leans his mouth in toward my ear and increases his grip on my arms, squeezing with all his force until I wince from the pain.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he whispers quietly enough that only I can hear him. He eases his grip and runs his hands down to my elbows, then kisses me lovingly on the cheek for show. “Go put on that sexy red dress. We’re having a party tonight to celebrate.”

He steps back and releases me from his grip completely. I glance at Carter, who’s still standing in the doorway, eyeing Asa like he could rip his head off at any second. He cuts his eyes to mine and for a second they grow softer, but I don’t hang around long enough to be positive. I turn and run up the stairs to the bedroom. I slam the door and fall onto the bed. The muscles in my arms are throbbing from the pain, so I try to rub it away. It’s the first time he’s ever physically hurt me in front of someone, but the injury to my pride hurts so much worse. I never should have questioned him in front of someone. I know better.

I’ll probably have bruises on my arms tomorrow, but at least they won’t remain forever like the scars my parents left on me. I stare down at the crescent-shaped scar on my thumb, remembering the time my mother tried to burn me with the car cigarette lighter when I was twelve. I have no idea why she was mad at me, but I pulled my hand away as soon as I realized what she was doing, but I wasn’t fast enough. Now, every time I stare at my scar, I’m reminded of my life with her.

At least the bruises will fade, but how long until Asa begins to leave more permanent scars on me? I know that I don’t deserve what he just did to me. No one does. But if I don’t get out soon, it’s going to get worse. Situations like this rarely ever change for the better. I want to grab my bags and pack everything I own. I want to leave and never come back. I want out. I want out, I want out, I want out.

But I can’t leave yet. It’s not just me who would be affected.

FOUR

CARTER

“Sorry about her,” Asa says, turning back to me.

I unclench my fists and attempt to hide my disdain. I’ve known him all of three hours, and I’ve never despised someone more in my entire life.

“It’s all good,” I reply. I walk over to the bar and casually ease myself into one of the seats at the table, despite the fact that I want to run upstairs and make sure Sloan’s okay. My mind is still reeling from the fact that Sloan is involved in this. Dalton never mentioned Asa’s girlfriend to me in detail, he just mentioned he had one. He certainly didn’t tell me I’d be in class with her.

Sloan was the last person I expected to run into coming here. Watching Asa kiss her like he did, and watching her respond like she did, made me officially regret taking on this assignment. This just became a hell of a lot more complicated.

“She lives with you?” I ask.

Asa hands me a beer out of the fridge and I untwist the top, then bring it to my mouth. “Yep,” he says. “And I’ll cut off your dick if you so much as look at her the wrong way.”

I eye him, but he doesn’t skip a beat. He shuts the door to the refrigerator and saunters to his seat on the other side of the bar as though the sentence never even left his mouth. That he can physically hurt her like he just did, then act like he gives a shit about her, has me floored. I want to bust the fucking beer bottle against his head, but instead I grip it harder, keeping my temper in check.

He opens his beer and raises the bottle. “To money,” he says, clinking the bottle against mine.

“To money.”And watching assholes get what they deserve.

Dalton walks in, interrupting with perfect timing. He looks at me and nods, then turns his attention to Asa. “Hey, man. Jon wants to know what to do about the alcohol situation. Is it BYOB tonight, or are we providing? Because we don’t have shit.”

Asa slams his beer down on the bar and shoves his chair back, standing up. “I told that asshole to stock up yesterday.” Asa storms out of the kitchen.

Dalton nudges his head toward the front door and I get up and follow him outside. Once we’re alone in the middle of the front yard, he turns toward me and takes a swig of his beer, mostly for show. Dalton hates beer.

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