Stupid Boy
Page 47
I quirked a brow. “That’s coming from a girl who likes getting thrown from a horse.”
Brax burst out laughing. “She gotcha there, Gracie.”
Olivia smiled. “It’ll give you a valid opportunity to hold onto his muscular stomach.”
I slipped a glance at Kane. He wagged his brows. I sighed and smiled. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it.”
Kane clapped his hands together. “Let’s go!”
Brax leaned close, speaking words only meant for Kane, and Olivia pulled me aside. “He really likes you, you know,” she said softly. “I’ve seen a change in him since meeting you. I can’t explain it, really. He’s always pretty even-keeled.” She smiled. “Just…changed. Like he’s been searching for something and has finally found it.”
I met her gaze; knowing, wise, a lot like Kane. “For me, too.”
Her smile widened, pulling at the scar on her lip. “That’s good to hear.” She sighed. “I know you have family, but you’re more than welcome to come spend Christmas with us. We’d love to have you.”
That familiar ping of uncertainty, of fear, of absolute dread that was so easy to ignore when fun and Kane and kisses stood in front of it, hit me in the stomach. “Thank you, really,” I answered. “But yes, I’ll be going to my family’s.”
She nodded. “You know to call if you ever change your mind?”
I smiled. “I do. Thank you.”
“All right Ms. Belle,” Kane’s voice sounded beside me. “Time to ride out.”
I blew out a nervous breath, walked over to the bike. “Whatever you say.”
Kane straddled the seat, bracing the bike with his muscular legs. Brax helped me on. His strange eyes found mine, and by his brusque attitude I could tell he still wasn’t liking Kane seeing me. “Don’t lean against the turn, and don’t try to stand and shift on the pegs.” He reached down, grasped both of my arms and circled them around Kane’s waist. His blue eyes stood in stark contrast to his scarred face. “Hold on, lean with Kane.” He tapped my nose. “You’ll love it. Promise.” He helped me into my helmet, tucked my chin strap, bumped fists with his brother, and Kane started the engine. It rumbled beneath my backside, a tingling feeling that made me want to laugh out loud.
With a wave, Kane took off, and I tightened my arms around him, snuggling my hands beneath his leather jacket. The ridges of his abdomen pressed like stone against my palms, and I was intrigued by his body. How it might look without a shirt or a jacket on. Nothing but skin and muscle.
Daylight sat at the edge of dusk; it looked wintry out, with the sky streaked with gray and white and darker gray and ginger, and the trees now barren of leaves. We drove along, toward Covington, and I still had no idea where Kane was taking me. At the moment, I didn’t care. This was fun! I liked how the sun dappled through the trees and flashed against my face shield, and I found myself wanting to go faster, faster. The bike rumbled beneath me. The wind whipped at me. And Kane’s warmth seeped into mine as I hugged him close. I watched the scenery pass by, cars, trees, farmhouses, as though on an old-fashioned movie reel. It seemed…surreal. As though I was peering into someone else’s life. A life where monsters and grandmothers and dead parents didn’t exist. I liked this life. I wanted to keep it.
We’d just reached the next town past Covington, a small little two-horse town called Manna. The sun had dropped, the sky had grown darker, and the temperature had grown colder. Kane pulled into a tiny gas station; empty, save the two pumps on the side of the brick building. Knocking the kickstand with his boot, he propped the bike and raised his shield. “Gotta fill up the tank. Be right back,” he promised, and I sat there and waited. I waited for what seemed like a long, long time. A big truck roared past, then slowed and backed up. It pulled in behind the station. The owners, maybe? The engine shut off, and I sat and waited on Kane to return from paying for the gas. What was taking so long?
I looked around me, at the single lane road running past the little gas station that sat on a bluff. Then I heard shouts coming from somewhere close. Behind the station, maybe? The voices grew louder, and I worried something might be wrong. I threw my leg over the bike’s seat and slowly walked toward the station’s entrance. The voices grew louder; I thought I heard Kane’s. Peeking inside the gas station, I saw no one there except the clerk. A college aged guy, maybe my age. He spared me a quick glance, then a nod, before he went back to whatever he was doing by the register. Kane wasn’t inside the station. Where could he be?
Confused, I eased out the door, and the voices caught my attention again.
“No goddamn Yankee’s gonna take my fuckin’ money,” a gruff, older male’s voice rose in anger. “You fuckin’ hear me? I’ll take that fuckin’ jacket, too, bitch! And that bike!”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ rigged them numbers, boy,” another man’s voice accused. “You might fuck those pussies at the frat house over, but we ain’t frat boys!”
Grunts. More swears. More than one voice. More like, four. Oh, God, Kane was in trouble from those stupid bets he was running. Fear for Kane propelled me to step closer, look down the embankment of pine needles. There, in the creek. A shirtless, white body, clad only in jeans and boots. Dark hair.
My insides froze as fear stabbed me. Kane was getting a beating. A bad one. He was down, and every time he’d try to rise, another would kick him in the ribs.
Brax burst out laughing. “She gotcha there, Gracie.”
Olivia smiled. “It’ll give you a valid opportunity to hold onto his muscular stomach.”
I slipped a glance at Kane. He wagged his brows. I sighed and smiled. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it.”
Kane clapped his hands together. “Let’s go!”
Brax leaned close, speaking words only meant for Kane, and Olivia pulled me aside. “He really likes you, you know,” she said softly. “I’ve seen a change in him since meeting you. I can’t explain it, really. He’s always pretty even-keeled.” She smiled. “Just…changed. Like he’s been searching for something and has finally found it.”
I met her gaze; knowing, wise, a lot like Kane. “For me, too.”
Her smile widened, pulling at the scar on her lip. “That’s good to hear.” She sighed. “I know you have family, but you’re more than welcome to come spend Christmas with us. We’d love to have you.”
That familiar ping of uncertainty, of fear, of absolute dread that was so easy to ignore when fun and Kane and kisses stood in front of it, hit me in the stomach. “Thank you, really,” I answered. “But yes, I’ll be going to my family’s.”
She nodded. “You know to call if you ever change your mind?”
I smiled. “I do. Thank you.”
“All right Ms. Belle,” Kane’s voice sounded beside me. “Time to ride out.”
I blew out a nervous breath, walked over to the bike. “Whatever you say.”
Kane straddled the seat, bracing the bike with his muscular legs. Brax helped me on. His strange eyes found mine, and by his brusque attitude I could tell he still wasn’t liking Kane seeing me. “Don’t lean against the turn, and don’t try to stand and shift on the pegs.” He reached down, grasped both of my arms and circled them around Kane’s waist. His blue eyes stood in stark contrast to his scarred face. “Hold on, lean with Kane.” He tapped my nose. “You’ll love it. Promise.” He helped me into my helmet, tucked my chin strap, bumped fists with his brother, and Kane started the engine. It rumbled beneath my backside, a tingling feeling that made me want to laugh out loud.
With a wave, Kane took off, and I tightened my arms around him, snuggling my hands beneath his leather jacket. The ridges of his abdomen pressed like stone against my palms, and I was intrigued by his body. How it might look without a shirt or a jacket on. Nothing but skin and muscle.
Daylight sat at the edge of dusk; it looked wintry out, with the sky streaked with gray and white and darker gray and ginger, and the trees now barren of leaves. We drove along, toward Covington, and I still had no idea where Kane was taking me. At the moment, I didn’t care. This was fun! I liked how the sun dappled through the trees and flashed against my face shield, and I found myself wanting to go faster, faster. The bike rumbled beneath me. The wind whipped at me. And Kane’s warmth seeped into mine as I hugged him close. I watched the scenery pass by, cars, trees, farmhouses, as though on an old-fashioned movie reel. It seemed…surreal. As though I was peering into someone else’s life. A life where monsters and grandmothers and dead parents didn’t exist. I liked this life. I wanted to keep it.
We’d just reached the next town past Covington, a small little two-horse town called Manna. The sun had dropped, the sky had grown darker, and the temperature had grown colder. Kane pulled into a tiny gas station; empty, save the two pumps on the side of the brick building. Knocking the kickstand with his boot, he propped the bike and raised his shield. “Gotta fill up the tank. Be right back,” he promised, and I sat there and waited. I waited for what seemed like a long, long time. A big truck roared past, then slowed and backed up. It pulled in behind the station. The owners, maybe? The engine shut off, and I sat and waited on Kane to return from paying for the gas. What was taking so long?
I looked around me, at the single lane road running past the little gas station that sat on a bluff. Then I heard shouts coming from somewhere close. Behind the station, maybe? The voices grew louder, and I worried something might be wrong. I threw my leg over the bike’s seat and slowly walked toward the station’s entrance. The voices grew louder; I thought I heard Kane’s. Peeking inside the gas station, I saw no one there except the clerk. A college aged guy, maybe my age. He spared me a quick glance, then a nod, before he went back to whatever he was doing by the register. Kane wasn’t inside the station. Where could he be?
Confused, I eased out the door, and the voices caught my attention again.
“No goddamn Yankee’s gonna take my fuckin’ money,” a gruff, older male’s voice rose in anger. “You fuckin’ hear me? I’ll take that fuckin’ jacket, too, bitch! And that bike!”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ rigged them numbers, boy,” another man’s voice accused. “You might fuck those pussies at the frat house over, but we ain’t frat boys!”
Grunts. More swears. More than one voice. More like, four. Oh, God, Kane was in trouble from those stupid bets he was running. Fear for Kane propelled me to step closer, look down the embankment of pine needles. There, in the creek. A shirtless, white body, clad only in jeans and boots. Dark hair.
My insides froze as fear stabbed me. Kane was getting a beating. A bad one. He was down, and every time he’d try to rise, another would kick him in the ribs.
