Reckless For You Page 16

  “Why? Do I need to?”

  Dan rolls his eyes. The two of us match each other in height, but Dan got the fatter muscles. He was always stronger than me, but I’m faster. I push a frothy glass out of my way.

  “Go ahead,” Dan says again. “Say it. I’m a pathetic waste of space.”

  “No, I’m not going to say that. I wanna keep my teeth.”

  Dan chuckles.

  “And where were you? Business meeting?”

  I shrug.

  “Bro, some advice. Find work elsewhere.”

  “Hell no,” I protest. “Do you have any idea how much I got paid tonight?”

  “Spend it fast,” he laughs. “Because the second he finds out you’re bangin’ his daughter, you’re a dead man.”

  “He’s not going to find out.” What I have with Paige is nothing more than a summer fling. Besides, I know better. I’m not the type of guy she would choose for the long haul. I don’t even own a pair of khakis.

  “Oh please.” Dan holds up his empty glass. His waitress nods and begins pouring him another. “I bet he already knows. A man like that doesn’t like to be messed with.”

  “If he already knows, I would know.”

  Dan starts laughing. He laughs just like Dad used to. It’s more of wheeze than a laugh. “Get ready to be dragged through hell and back. You’re digging your own grave, little brother.”

  PAIGE

  Chapter Four

  “Are you going to keep it?”

  I feel at home here.

  I've been to this mall thousands of times, and a new pair of shoes never fails to help me feel better. Alana sticks out her boobs and barely breathes as a group of guys walk past us. She exhales and glances over her shoulder.

  “They were definitely staring at us.” She smiles and checks her phone. We’re walking our usual route, hitting all the designer stores then back to the food court for a low-fat strawberry smoothie.

  “I need that,” I say pointing to a stunning fur vest on display in Bloomingdale’s. “Let’s go in there.” The two of us anxiously walk inside.

  I’m trying to focus on anything but the pain in my stomach. I can’t keep anything down today. I’ve already lost five pounds from all the vomiting. I lean on a rack of sweaters to support myself. Alana puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you sure you’re up to this? The way we shop is more of a workout than a leisure activity,” she whispers. I stand up straight and grab a beige sweater.

  “I’m fine,” I reassure her. She carefully watches me. I don’t think she’s convinced.

  “Okay,” she sighs. She moves to a table of skinny jeans. I grab a few things that catch my eye. Last time I saw Aunt Sheila, she looked stunning from head to toe, and she was only going out for groceries.

  “I’m going to try this stuff on.” I grab a few more tops and hang them over my forearm.

  “I’ll be looking at shoes,” Alana answers.

  I rush to find a dressing room. Maybe sitting down will help me overcome my nausea. I hand my clothes to the sales associate and follow her to a fitting room. As soon as the door is closed, I drop to the floor and wrap my arms around my stomach. I look in the mirror. My face looks redder than Alana’s ugly lipstick.

  How much longer can I possibly hide this from everyone?

  I look at the clothes hanging from a rack on the door. I don’t even feel like trying anything on. I wave my hand in front of my face to get some air.

  Deep breaths. Just take deep breaths and don’t think about puking-

  There’s a knock on the door. I jump to my feet.

  “I’m okay. I don’t need anything,” I recite.

  “Liar.” The voice sounds familiar.

  What is he doing here?

  I open the door and pull Gavin into the fitting room before the sales lady sees him.

  “You’re going to get me kicked out,” I scold him. “What are you doing here?”

  “You said you wanted to talk.”

  “You’re impossible.” I roll my eyes. The scent of his cologne makes my heart race, and I love it when I can see part of the tattoo on his bicep, even if it is a stupid tiger.

  “You always say that.” He grins. He puts his hands around my waist and forces a kiss. I love it when he takes control like that, but right now I might puke all over him. I let him give me a peck on the lips before pulling away. “Hmmm.” He looks me up and down. “You’re in one of your moods. What’s wrong?”

  A lot of things are wrong.

  “I’m leaving for a while,” I respond.

  “Okay.” He waits for me to continue.

  “I’m going to stay with my aunt for the rest of the summer.” I watch his reaction. It’s not what I am hoping for. He hardly even thinks about it twice.

  “No problem. I’ll come see you.”

  “She lives in England,” I respond. He looks a little surprised but still no major reaction. I can’t even hear any panic in his voice.

  “Well I’m sure you’ll have a good time,” he answers. “And I’ll see you when you get back.”

  I roll my eyes. If I were still with Stephen, he would have thrown a fit. Gavin doesn’t even seem to care.

  I can’t tell him about the baby.

  “So you’re okay with this?”

  “It’s not like I can do anything to change it.” He shrugs.

  “You’re not even the least bit angry?”

  “Babe,” he laughs. “Sometimes you’re a little too dramatic; you know that.”

  “Ugh.” I frown. I feel like this conversation is going nowhere and I need to find a toilet. I open the fitting room door. Who cares if the sales lady kicks me out for letting a guy hang out in the women's dressing room. “You can leave now.”

  “I’ll see you later.” He grins and steals a kiss.

  “No you won’t,” I protest. “I’m not speaking to you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he chuckles.

  I shake my head and slam the door. As soon as he’s out of sight, a tear rolls down my cheek.

  What am I going to do?

  I thought telling Gavin about being pregnant would give me all the answers, but he doesn’t give a crap that I’ll be overseas for the rest of the summer. I can’t tell him about the baby. He probably would have said no big deal, do what you want.

  That doesn’t help me.

  I grab my purse, leaving all the clothes I picked to try on. I storm through the department store, wiping the tears from my face. I hear Alana’s voice behind me.

  “Paige,” she yells. I glance over my shoulder.

  “I thought you were looking at shoes?” I sniff.

  “I knew you were acting weird earlier. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I bark. Her eyes go wide. She follows me to the bathroom. I hardly acknowledge her as I open the door and race into the nearest stall. I close my eyes and try to control the crying. I hate people who cry in public. Little kids can't help it, but when adults do it, it just looks pathetic.

  “You can’t shut me out forever,” Alana’s voice carries through the ladies' room. “Remember in seventh grade when you got that horrible haircut and stayed home from school for a whole week?”

  I stay silent, but I do remember. Longest week of my life.

  “You were stubborn then too,” she continues.

  “What’s your point?”

  “When you finally talked to me about it, I decided to get mine cut too, and the entire school copied us. Omg, what a bunch of sheep.”

  “This is a little more complicated than a butchered bob, Alana.”

  “But I’m sure it would help you to talk about it,” she says quietly. I open my stall door. Alana glances at my stomach and then looks away. I rub the skin around my belly button.

  “So,” Alana goes on. "Are you going to keep it?”

  I’ve been avoiding the question all day. I thought the answer would be obvious – that I wouldn’t even have to blink. I used to tell myself that if I eve
r got pregnant by accident, then I wouldn't keep the baby if I wasn’t ready.

  It feels completely different now that it’s actually happening.

  “Honestly,” I respond looking down at my stomach. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Five

  “It’s always the nice girls who end up getting pregnant.”

  I’ve been sitting in the airport at my gate for an hour, and the lady next to me let her kid dump Cheetos all over the floor. I can’t stand that cheesy smell. It's making me queasy. I flash her a dirty look.

  Really? Aren't you going to clean up your kid’s mess?

  A voice announces over the intercom that my flight will board shortly. It’s about time. I’m so glad Dad bought me a first class ticket to London. I grab my carry on bag and walk towards the gate. I didn’t see Mom or Dane before I left. The house was empty.

  A guy walks past me. His tan jacket catches my eye. My chest starts pounding. I grab the side of his sleeve, and he turns around, bewildered. A girl is by his side.

  “Dane,” I shout. He jerks around with rosy cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” he replies. Mikki looks down at her shoes.

  “Uh, I'm boarding a plane for Aunt Sheila’s, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He glances at Mikki. “I’m not going.”

  I stare at their intertwined fingers and overstuffed backpacks.

  “Don’t tell me you’re-“

  “Paige,” he interjects. I see his hand squeeze Mikki’s tighter. “I know you have an opinion about absolutely everything but for once could you keep this to yourself? Mom and Dad will go ballistic.” I lean in closer so only he can hear me whisper.

  “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask.

  “No.” He takes a step back, nervously avoiding making eye contact. “We’re headed to Paris.”

  Mikki smiles.

  “Dad is going to kill you.”

  “You let me worry about that, alright.”

  “For how long?” I ask. He shrugs and grins at Mikki.

  “Until we’re ready to come back,” he answers.

  “And your aunt,” I say to Mikki. “She’s okay with this?”

  “Well . . .” She takes a deep breath. “Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

  I nod.

  Sounds like the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. Either they will come back married, or it won’t last two days. Above all else, I hope my brother is smart enough to use protection with this one. It’s always the nice girls who end up getting pregnant. They aren't planning on being bad.

  In most cases. My case turned out differently.

  “If you need anything,” I offer. “You know where I’ll be.”

  Dane raises an eyebrow.

  “Um, thanks. And-“

  “Don’t worry,” I go on. “When Dad calls me fuming I’ll act like I know nothing.”

  “Thanks.”

  For the first time in years, he leans over to hug me. I hesitate at first, but it feels comforting to finally have a family member I can sort of talk to.

  “Bye,” Mikki says quietly. I smile and watch them giddily walk to their terminal.

  “Attention passengers,” a voice says over the intercom. “We will now begin boarding flight 2334 to London, England.”

  I pull my ticket from my purse, feeling anxious. Dozens of thoughts are clouding up my mind. Most importantly, I hope I make it through this flight without having to use my barf bag.

  So embarrassing.

  * * *

  GAVIN

  He always seems to know where I am, even if I’m at home stuck on the toilet. I feel a tap on my shoulder and put on a happy face before turning around. It’s time again. Matt Haskell, Paige's father, has another job for me that absolutely cannot wait. I finish chewing my BBQ sandwich.

  “You found me,” I say. “Like always.”

  “You come here for lunch almost every day,” he replies. I shrug. Maybe I should try a new place. “I have another job for you.”

  I grin.

  “What kind of a job?”

  “Another job similar to the last one. I want you to do what you do best.”

  Coming from him, that is a compliment. I sit up straighter in my chair. Here I go again. I’m acting all gaga for his approval.

  “Who am I following this time?” So far all my jobs have involved stalking and following people. Matt hands me an envelope. I open it feeling a subtle wave of relief when I see a page of handwritten notes. As long as he doesn’t show up one day expecting me to murder some random dude, I’ll be fine.

  I stare at a blurry picture of a dark-haired man. He has one of those faces that blends in with a crowd. A face like mine. I nod.

  “He arrived in town last night,” Matt continues. “He’s staying at the-“

  “Let me guess,” I interrupt. “Lenny’s crappy motel by the freeway exit?”

  Matt nods.

  All these idiots are the same. They come into town, stay at the same motel, eat at the same places, and ask the same questions. This jerk-off will be no different than the rest of them. Easy money.

  “What do you want?” I take a sip of my soda. “The usual?” The usual consists of daily photos, and a schedule of everywhere the person has been and everyone that person has talked to.

  “Yes,” he answers. “And I want you to contact me immediately if he comes near my neighborhood. Oh and there’s something else.” He leans in closer. My heart rate speeds up. He doesn’t normally give me more information about these jobs, not even if I ask. “I need you to be extra cautious with this one. I believe he’s in town to take something very valuable from me.”

  I know better than to ask him questions, but it’s eating away at me. This man has everything a guy could want. I mean everything. Plus the money to buy back anything that is stolen. What is so important to him that he’s staying an extra two minutes just to tell me about? I open my mouth, and the question slips out.

  “What does he want?” I immediately bite my tongue. Matt's eyes open a little wider, and I’m surprised that he’s actually about to answer my question.

  “My wife,” he whispers.

  PAIGE

  Chapter Six

  “Mom didn’t mention anything about a wedding.”

  I am way underdressed. Aunt Sheila looks even more glamorous this time than the last time I saw her. My eyes practically popped out of my head when I got off the plane. She’s wearing a tight red dress with matching heels. Mom will be not-so-pleased to know that she’s thinner than ever (even thinner than Mom).

  Her driver took my bags, and Aunt Sheila talked the entire drive to her lavish townhouse in a posh suburb of London. I tried not to act so impressed by the houses we passed. They are smaller but look much fancier than I expected them to look.

  I watch the driver carry my things through the front door. Aunt Sheila hugs me again when I step out of the car. Her words wash over me as I try to concentrate on acting natural and unpregnant. She escorts me inside her new home that she shares with her lover-of-the-month. She seems to have a new boyfriend, fiance, or husband every time I visit her.

  “Wait until you meet her,” Aunt Sheila says. Her complexion and blonde hair look almost identical to Mom’s. “You two are going to get along great I just know it.”

  I struggle to remember our conversation in the car on the way here. I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy focusing on not getting carsick. She mentioned something about a guy and his daughter . . . oh, the guy she has been seeing.

  “Sorry Aunt Sheila,” I say quietly. “But who are you talking about again?”

  “Myra!” she calls from the bottom of the staircase. A girl my age with a fake smile on her face appears in the hallway. Her hair is an auburn red that matches her lips. It is long and shiny, touching her mid back.

  Hair extensions.

  The bronzy shine on her skin is fake too. I study her as she walks down the stairs. I try no
t to giggle when my eyes rest on the enormous size of her boobs. They look like two bubbles waiting to pop underneath her shirt. Is anything on this girl real?

  “Hiya,” Myra says in an upbeat voice.

  I smile back.

  “Hi.”

  “This is my niece,” Sheila says. “The one I’ve been telling you about.”

  “Oh of course.” Myra is going to be hard to read, especially if she smiles like that all the time. “You aren’t too knackered, are you?”

  I glance at Aunt Sheila. She looks thrilled that the two of us are interacting.

  “I'm a little tired,” I lie. I’m exhausted, and I tried my best to hold it the entire plane ride. I got up three times to go pee instead of six. The food smelled disgusting, even in first class, and I had to tell myself not to throw up.

  “Okay,” she giggles. “You might have time to get a nap in before we go out.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’re coming with me to a party tonight.” She playfully nudges my shoulder. “If you’re going to spend the rest of your summer here, you need to meet some of my friends. Besides, your Auntie Sheila has her hands full with the wedding.”

  “Wedding?” I repeat. Mom didn’t mention anything about a wedding.

  “Yes honey,” Aunt Sheila responds. “Myra's father, Victor, and I are getting married, isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Congratulations,” I respond. She hasn’t told Mom yet. That conversation will be a nightmare.

  “I haven’t told your mother yet so . . .”

  “Don’t worry. Wait until you’re ready to tell her.”

  Now I have a bargaining chip if anything goes sour.

  “Oh.” She squeezes my shoulders. “This is going to be a wonderful summer.”

  My aunt’s last wedding was a disaster. She turns into a monster when things don’t go according to plan. I was one of her flower girls. I remember hating the pink and lavender dress she made me wear. I thought it looked too much like a cupcake. That marriage lasted about four months.