Unbeautiful
Page 29
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
A note is secured to the brick by a rubber band. I pick the paper up and unfold it.
We’re watching you, Emery. You’ve been a bad, bad girl, and now you’re going to pay.
As tires squeal in the distance, I scurry to the window and look downward to the parking lot just in time to see a black Cadillac racing out onto the road.
That car. It has to be a patrol car from Ralingford.
But why is it here?
“Shit.” I weave around the glass, collect my phone, and skitter down the hallway. I start to dial my mother to tell her what happened but pause when I catch sight of the wooden circle she nailed into the wall.
What if she did it? What if she’s trying to scare me into coming home?
But what if it wasn’t her?
What if it’s more than that? What if it’s someone else? Like one of my father’s enemies.
I hang up and put the phone away, vowing to never go to my mother for help, no matter what happens. Even if my life is in danger.
Chapter 8
Welcome to Hell
Ryler
The moment I step out of the apartment, I try to force thoughts of Emery out of my mind. The last thing I want tonight is to be distracted. And Emery is definitely a distraction, one I need to make sure I want.
“Where the hell have you been, asshole?” Haven is waiting for me when I arrive at the bottom of the stairs. Her arms are crossed, her expression livid. “You haven’t been answering any of my calls, and your little friends are very rude whenever I stop by looking for you. They always tell me you’re not there” —she motions at me—“when clearly you are.”
I sigh at the sight of her and all that she represents. I lied to Emery about who Haven is. I had to. She’s part of the Elderman side of my life, the life I have to keep a secret. I didn’t like lying to Emery, not one bit, which is going to make our little thing—if I can even call it that—complicated.
I brush by Haven. It’d be pointless to try to communicate with her. She doesn’t know how to sign. I have a piece of paper and pen in the car, but I’m not about to go get them. The last time I chatted via pen with her, we ended up fucking. That was a huge mistake, considering a) she turned out to be crazy, and b) she’s Marellie’s daughter, one of Elderman’s men whose skills lie in the grey shades of life.
“Ryler, don’t walk away from me.” She stomps after me, her heels clicking against the concrete.
I fish my keys out of my pocket and swing around her, heading for my Dodge Challenger as she continues to chew me out. There are times, like now, when I can appreciate being voiceless because I have an excuse not to say anything back.
“Goddammit, Ryler.” She grabs my shoulder, jerks me back, and skitters around in front of me. Her long blond hair is tangled from the wind, and her eyes burn with fury. “I didn’t just come here to talk to your back. I have a message for you. Or my father does anyway.”
I remind myself that I have to be nice to her. If I don’t, I could piss off the wrong people.
“Oh, I see how it is. One mention of my father, and you’ll listen to me. You must really be afraid of him. You should be.” She walks her finger up my chest and plays with the collar of my shirt. “Maybe I should tell him what you did to me.” Her fingers skate downward and stop above the waistband of my jeans. “How you got me drunk and made me touch you.”
I shake my head, aggravated. That’s not what happened. She was sober and I was drunk when we stumbled back to my place and fooled around.
“Maybe I can keep my mouth shut, though,” her fingers start to drift into my jeans, “if you make me touch you again.”
Dammit, I really fucked up when I hooked up with her.
I grab her hand and pull it out of my jeans. “I have to go,” I mouth slowly as she glances up at me. “Or I’m going to be late again.”
“That’s the last thing you should be worried about right now.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “What you should worry about is me telling my father what you did the other night.”
“What we both did,” I mouth.
“But I can spin it however I want,” she says with a smirk. “I’m daddy’s little girl and you’re,” her eyes scroll over my black jeans and shirt, the tattoos inking my arms, and the piercings in my face, “just another one of Elderman’s lowlifes, at the bottom of his little minion food chain.”
I ball my hands into fists and pop my neck, trying to stay calm.
“I’ll tell you what. I won’t say anything to my father, as long as we start our little thing up again.”
Little thing?
What little thing?
I grind my teeth, wanting to shout, fuck no! But I can’t respond that way for various reasons, one being that I know her father will kill me.
I grimly nod.
Her lips curl into a grin. “Good. Now give me your phone.”
I begrudgingly hand it over.
“I’m typing in my phone number and sending myself a text so I can have yours.” Her fingers hammer at the buttons on my phone. “You’re going to start calling me and taking me out.” She hands me back the phone, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses me on the cheek. When she pulls back, her eyes are wide, and she looks possessed by the devil. “And, if you so much as look at another girl, like the one upstairs, I will end her.” She grins and then skips off toward her Mercedes parked near the entrance of the complex.
We’re watching you, Emery. You’ve been a bad, bad girl, and now you’re going to pay.
As tires squeal in the distance, I scurry to the window and look downward to the parking lot just in time to see a black Cadillac racing out onto the road.
That car. It has to be a patrol car from Ralingford.
But why is it here?
“Shit.” I weave around the glass, collect my phone, and skitter down the hallway. I start to dial my mother to tell her what happened but pause when I catch sight of the wooden circle she nailed into the wall.
What if she did it? What if she’s trying to scare me into coming home?
But what if it wasn’t her?
What if it’s more than that? What if it’s someone else? Like one of my father’s enemies.
I hang up and put the phone away, vowing to never go to my mother for help, no matter what happens. Even if my life is in danger.
Chapter 8
Welcome to Hell
Ryler
The moment I step out of the apartment, I try to force thoughts of Emery out of my mind. The last thing I want tonight is to be distracted. And Emery is definitely a distraction, one I need to make sure I want.
“Where the hell have you been, asshole?” Haven is waiting for me when I arrive at the bottom of the stairs. Her arms are crossed, her expression livid. “You haven’t been answering any of my calls, and your little friends are very rude whenever I stop by looking for you. They always tell me you’re not there” —she motions at me—“when clearly you are.”
I sigh at the sight of her and all that she represents. I lied to Emery about who Haven is. I had to. She’s part of the Elderman side of my life, the life I have to keep a secret. I didn’t like lying to Emery, not one bit, which is going to make our little thing—if I can even call it that—complicated.
I brush by Haven. It’d be pointless to try to communicate with her. She doesn’t know how to sign. I have a piece of paper and pen in the car, but I’m not about to go get them. The last time I chatted via pen with her, we ended up fucking. That was a huge mistake, considering a) she turned out to be crazy, and b) she’s Marellie’s daughter, one of Elderman’s men whose skills lie in the grey shades of life.
“Ryler, don’t walk away from me.” She stomps after me, her heels clicking against the concrete.
I fish my keys out of my pocket and swing around her, heading for my Dodge Challenger as she continues to chew me out. There are times, like now, when I can appreciate being voiceless because I have an excuse not to say anything back.
“Goddammit, Ryler.” She grabs my shoulder, jerks me back, and skitters around in front of me. Her long blond hair is tangled from the wind, and her eyes burn with fury. “I didn’t just come here to talk to your back. I have a message for you. Or my father does anyway.”
I remind myself that I have to be nice to her. If I don’t, I could piss off the wrong people.
“Oh, I see how it is. One mention of my father, and you’ll listen to me. You must really be afraid of him. You should be.” She walks her finger up my chest and plays with the collar of my shirt. “Maybe I should tell him what you did to me.” Her fingers skate downward and stop above the waistband of my jeans. “How you got me drunk and made me touch you.”
I shake my head, aggravated. That’s not what happened. She was sober and I was drunk when we stumbled back to my place and fooled around.
“Maybe I can keep my mouth shut, though,” her fingers start to drift into my jeans, “if you make me touch you again.”
Dammit, I really fucked up when I hooked up with her.
I grab her hand and pull it out of my jeans. “I have to go,” I mouth slowly as she glances up at me. “Or I’m going to be late again.”
“That’s the last thing you should be worried about right now.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “What you should worry about is me telling my father what you did the other night.”
“What we both did,” I mouth.
“But I can spin it however I want,” she says with a smirk. “I’m daddy’s little girl and you’re,” her eyes scroll over my black jeans and shirt, the tattoos inking my arms, and the piercings in my face, “just another one of Elderman’s lowlifes, at the bottom of his little minion food chain.”
I ball my hands into fists and pop my neck, trying to stay calm.
“I’ll tell you what. I won’t say anything to my father, as long as we start our little thing up again.”
Little thing?
What little thing?
I grind my teeth, wanting to shout, fuck no! But I can’t respond that way for various reasons, one being that I know her father will kill me.
I grimly nod.
Her lips curl into a grin. “Good. Now give me your phone.”
I begrudgingly hand it over.
“I’m typing in my phone number and sending myself a text so I can have yours.” Her fingers hammer at the buttons on my phone. “You’re going to start calling me and taking me out.” She hands me back the phone, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses me on the cheek. When she pulls back, her eyes are wide, and she looks possessed by the devil. “And, if you so much as look at another girl, like the one upstairs, I will end her.” She grins and then skips off toward her Mercedes parked near the entrance of the complex.
