Rourke
SIX KISSED MASON.
She mother fucking kissed him. Right in front of my goddamn face. Anger? I’d never fucking registered the emotion before this moment. But right now, it was all I could feel. I was seeing red and it was taking every ounce of my self-control not to lose it and kick the shit out of one of my oldest friends.
Dammit, I felt like setting the damn house on fire and burning every fucking room to the ground. I wanted to eliminate every slither of evidence that held the memory of my stepsister kissing my friend. I knew I wasn’t being rational. Hell, Daryl had told me as much, but I didn’t fucking care. He didn’t get to do that; he didn’t get to touch her. She was… She wasn’t for him.
Furious, I stalked out back and paced the patio.
“You need to calm down,” Daryl instructed, following me outside.
“I’m gonna kill him,” I snarled, making a move to go back inside.
Daryl stopped me with one beefy hand to the shoulder. “And do what?” he demanded, tone hushed. “Beat the shit out of him? Over a girl who’s not yours?”
“He shouldn’t have touched her,” I roared, shoving him off.
“She kissed him, asshole,” Daryl hissed, grabbing me with both hands now.
“I didn’t see that fucker pulling back,” I argued, furious.
“Are you serious right now?” Daryl countered, forcing me to look at him. “Dude, you were upstairs with Britt twenty fucking minutes ago.”
“And what of it?” I shot back angrily, knowing I sounded like a hypocritical shit. I hadn’t been with Britt, not in the way I’d let Six think, but I wasn’t about to say that now. I was too fucking prideful. She’d stopped by, looking for what she always wanted and I’d been more than willing to oblige – until I ran into Six.
What was she doing to me? What the hell was I becoming? I didn’t care about this shit. What did I care if a girl kissed Mason?
Because she’s your fucking girl, my brain roared and I quickly shot that shit down.
Six wasn’t mine. I had no claim over her and I didn’t want one either. She was just a girl I had the unfortunate luck of being thrown into living with.
“What of it?” Daryl ran a hand through his hair and muttered a string of curses. “You need to get your head out of your ass,” he told me. “If you want Sissy then stop being an asshole and –”
“I don’t,” I snapped, interrupting him.
I didn’t want her.
I didn’t.
But I sure as shit didn’t want anyone else having her either. I didn’t give a damn how demented that made me sound, it was how I felt. If she even looked at Mason fucking Starr again tonight, I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be able to control myself.
Mercedes
I DEBATED GOING back upstairs and burying myself under my duvet, but then I thought of what Rourke had said, and I shut that notion down.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Screw him. I would not let him win. He would not beat me in whatever sick and twisted game we were playing.
Remaining downstairs, I propped myself on a stool at the breakfast bar and proceeded to drink half my weight in beer.
By the time the crowd started to clear out, I could no longer feel my lips. Or my ass. Hunched over the counter, I nursed what had to be my twentieth bottle of beer, and watched Rourke and his friends. They were all standing around Rourke and giving him what looked like a serious talk.
What fucking ever.
I didn’t care.
I was wasted. I shouldn’t be thinking about the jerk. No. He was much worse than a jerk. Rourke was a bastard. And big. And pretty. A pretty big bastard. I snorted to myself before groaning loudly.
God, why was I even thinking about him?
He was screwing with my mind. Jesus, even thinking his name made me ridiculously angry. It was stupid – no; he was stupid.
He couldn’t even leave my drunk brain alone.
“You here with anyone?” someone asked, drawing my attention away from Rourke.
“Huh?” Turning my head to the side, I locked eyes on a tallish, browned haired guy. He was leaning against the counter beside me and stunk more of alcohol than I did.
“I asked you if you were here with anyone tonight?” He reached forward then and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear before smiling. “Sexy thing like you shouldn’t be drinking all by her lonesome.”
“Time to call it a night, pretty girl.” Reebo’s familiar-ish voice filled my ears. “Anderson, fuck off. She’s not on the market.”
The guy who had been talking to me quickly disappeared from sight and I frowned. “Where’d he go?”
“Don’t give two shits as long as it’s far away from you,” Reebo replied with an easy smile. “Think you’ve had enough for tonight, don’t you?”
“I’m fine,” I slurred, holding my hand up in protest. “I’m not r…ready to go yet.” Reaching out, I trailed my finger down his chest and giggled. “Teddy bear. Big and strong.”
“Okaaay…” Reebo took a safe step back from me. “You’re drunk, baby girl. And while you’re hot as fuck? I wanna keep my head on my shoulders.”
Seconds later, my beer was yanked out of my hand and I was greeted by two very angry blue eyes.
“Bed,” Rourke ordered.
“Nope,” I snickered, trying and failing to recapture my beer.
“Bed. Now,” he repeated, holding the bottle away from me.
“Why?”
“Because you’re embarrassing yourself.” Flustered, Rourke ran a hand through his hair. “You’re acting like a goddam…” He stopped and clamped his lips together. “Bed. Six. Now.”
“Slut?” I offered with a harsh laugh.
“Don’t,” Rourke shot back angrily, and if I wasn’t so drunk, I could have sworn I saw him flinch.
“But I am a slut,” I shot back innocently as I grabbed the bottle out of his hand and guzzled another large mouthful. “Isn’t that what you’ve been hinting at since I got here?”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Six.”
“I mean, come on, Rourke, you’ve called me a worthless piece of trash on enough occasions.” Slapping the bottle back down on the counter, I shook my hair out and sighed. “I’m just finally caving and agreeing with you.”
“Goddammit, Six,” Rourke warned, yanking the bottle off the counter and tossing it somewhere behind him. It clanged on the ground and shattered. “Don’t fucking talk like that.”
“Why?” I half slurred, half snickered. “It’s okay for you to degrade me, but I can’t?”
“Is that what you think?” he asked, clearly irritated, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You think I’m degrading you?”
I threw my hands in the air and made a “Sheeesh” sound. “Feels like that to me.”
“Mercedes.”
“Oh, so I’m Mercedes now, am I?” Tears were burning my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I would not cry in front of this cruel bastard. “How kind of you.” Drunk or not, I was a stubborn bitch and that stubbornness couldn’t be swayed no matter how much alcohol I consumed.
“You’re drunk,” Rourke said in a low tone, taking a step towards me. Everyone in the kitchen was watching me lose it, but I didn’t care. In fact, I didn’t give a damn. “Get up and I’ll help you to bed.”
“So, you can what, Rourke?” I demanded, roughly shrugging off his hand when he placed it on my shoulder. “Pat yourself on the back and give yourself brownie points for being kind to me?” I shook my head and sneered. “Save it…. Argh!”
My words got stuck in my throat the moment Rourke picked me up like a freaking baby and carried me out of the room. “If you think I’m leaving you here to make a fucking fool of yourself, then you’re wrong,” he told me as he carried me out of the kitchen and up the staircase towards my bedroom.
If I had been able to feel my ass, I might have fought back, but I couldn’t, so I didn’t struggle. He carried me into my room and sat me down on the end of the bed before reaching forward and pulling back the covers.
“Why do you hate me?” I asked when Rourke picked me up and tossed me onto the mattress.
“Believe me, Six,” he growled as he tucked my duvet up to my chin. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t have brought you up here.”
“Then why did you bring me up here?” I slurred, looking up at him.
“Because,” he muttered, but didn’t say anything else.
I closed my eyes. “Because?”
I heard him sigh heavily. “Sleep it off, Six.”
I WOKE SEVERAL hours later to the feel of my mattress dipping and someone climbing into bed with me.
“I know I shouldn’t be in here,” Rourke whispered in the darkness as he curled his body around mine.
“Then why are you in here?” I managed to squeeze out as my body burned beneath his touch.
“Because…” he slurred, nuzzling his body against mine.
“Because?” My voice was barely more than a whisper and I could hardly hear it over the pounding of my heart. Rourke’s hard, warm body so close to mine felt familiar and insanely right.
“I’m drunk as fuck, Six,” he whispered.
“I know. I can smell it.”
“You’re one to talk,” he snorted.
“You were an asshole tonight,” I whispered in the darkness. “Sometimes I really hate you, Rourke.”
“I know you do,” he slurred, tightening his hold on my waist. “But if you could pretend to love me, just for tonight, I’d be really fucking grateful.”
Those words.
That plea.
It killed me.
I turned to face him and whispered, “Why do you need me to pretend I love you?” My eyes were locked on his face. It was dark, but I hadn’t drawn my curtains so the moon illuminated his face. “Rourke?”
“Because.” He was breathing hard and fast now, his breath fanning my face, bathing me in the heavy stench of alcohol.
My heart slammed against my ribcage. “Because?”
“Fifteen years today,” he finally choked out, clenching his eyes shut. “Still…hurts.”
“Since your mom passed?”
He nodded.
Trembling, I reached up. I cupped the back of his neck with one hand, and bunched the front of his shirt with the other. I pressed my forehead to his chest and whispered, “I love you, Rourke.”
He shuddered violently before slumping forward, resting his chin on my head.
Several minutes passed by and Rourke’s breathing turned deep and slow. He had passed out, I realized. In my bed, with his body curled around mine.
I shouldn’t have said it.
I shouldn’t have told Rourke I loved him.
Not when I didn’t mean it.
And I was almost certain I didn’t.