Chapter 9

nine

HENDRIX

I waited until I reached the end of the dark street before I kicked the fuck out of a parked car. "This is such bullshit."

It was more than bullshit.

I swiped a hand through my hair, annoyed that I was letting myself get sucked back into her. Staking claim on her in front of the school. Finger-banging her in a grimy bathroom. Nutting on her shirt. Walking her home and wanting, like a pathetic little troll, to forgive her, then slam my lips over hers and tell her I still loved her.

My phone buzzed for the fifteenth time since I'd left the park. I knew it was Wolf's ass because he was supposed to pick me up from the park, but noooo, Lola just had to try to walk home in the dark. And I had to be a sick-dick knight in white-trash armor and escort her through the damn slums.

At least Wolf wouldn't have to know about this.

I passed underneath a flickering street light and fished the device from my jeans pocket.

Stumpy Ass: Where the hell are you?

Stumpy Ass: DUDE!!

Stumpy Ass: Are you dead?

Stumpy Ass: Are you high?

Stumpy Ass: Are you fucking someone????

Stumpy Ass: HENDRIX!

Stumpy Ass: H

Stumpy Ass: E

Stumpy Ass: N

Stumpy Ass: D

Stumpy Ass: R

Stumpy Ass: I

Stumpy Ass: X

Stumpy Ass: I just checked the entire park for your dead ass and haven't found a body…

Stumpy Ass: Seriously, dude. I'm starting to freak out.

Stumpy Ass: I swear to God. If I find you are already at Waffle Hut...

Me: I'm not dead. I forgot you were coming to get me and went to some girl's house for a fuck.

And now Medusa was forcing me to lie to one of my best friends. Like a five-foot-two devil in a baggy shirt.

Me: I'll be at Waffle Hut in ten minutes.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket just as headlights barrelled down the street—Wolf's headlights. Brakes squealed as the vehicle skidded to a stop. Then the window lowered, and a cloud of smoke billowed into the night. "What the actual hell are you doing on Lola's street?"

"It's not just Lola's street."I let out a heavy sigh and reached for the handle. "Three other girls live on this street, Wolf." I opened the passenger door and hoisted myself into the front seat. "Give me a break."

"You fucked her in the restroom at school a few hours ago."

"I didn't fuck her." Finger fucked her? Sure. I could probably still smell her pussy on my hands…

Wolf's gaze narrowed before he pulled off, dodging a stray dog roaming the street. "You didn't nail me for using her name…"

I reared back and punched the shit out of his shoulder. "You know my brain doesn't work after some no-name sucks all the baby batter out of my balls."

"When does your brain work?"

We sat in traffic for an hour due to a shooting, and by the time I got out at Waffle Hut, my stomach was angry-growling.

Wolf slammed the door to his truck. "Dude," he said, rounding the front. "His face looked like ground beef. Be glad you couldn't see it."

"Keep that sick crap to yourself." I passed between cars, stopping when I noticed Bellamy's girlfriend's Barbie-pink Porsche parked beside the handicap ramp. "I swear to God, Wolf, if he brought Drewbers to guy's Waffle Hut night…"

The last thing I needed right now was to hang out with another her. I kicked the bumper when I passed by the offensive-as-hell beacon of wealth.

"I don't care if he brings her," Wolf said. "She pays for our food."

Because she was Barrington and had a river of cash flowing through her backyard. The nightmare of a girl probably crapped hundred-dollar bills after breakfast, blowing farewell kisses to them as she flushed them down the toilet.

Ever since Lola had left, I'd given the guys crap anytime one of them sniffed at a relationship. If the girl who had promised me, since the time we were six years old, that she'd never leave me did, in fact, leave me, they sure as hell couldn't trust some new girl not to shit all over them.

I stuffed everything Lola back into the dark depths of my mind, then shoved open the handprint-covered door. "Come on. I'm hungry. Move your stumpy legs."

A plume of smoke billowed up from the griddle, carrying the scent of hashbrowns—covered, smothered, and chunked—across the tiny diner. The place was empty aside from the group of truckers at the countertop and Bellamy hunched over a half-eaten plate in the back booth.

No decency.

I passed by the register. "Way to wait on us, asshole." I slid into the empty side of the plastic booth, and he glanced up from his almost finished plate.

"What the hell took you guys so long?" he asked.

Wolf slipped in beside me. "You know the homeless guy who stands around the satanic goat fountain by the Methodist church screaming Bible verses at people?"

"Yeah…" He crammed a handful of fries into his mouth.

"Someone shot him in the middle of Highway 11. Then an eighteen-wheeler ran him over."

"Oh, shit."

A waitress leaned over the plexiglass that separated the booth from the kitchen to place new cutlery and a styrofoam cup on the table. "There's your shake, shug." Chocolate dripped over the rim.

Anytime Bellamy brought his kid brother with him, the waitress gave him a to-go milkshake. After the bill.

On a scowl, I moved my attention from the drink to Bellamy. "You're leaving?"

"I'm already late. I was supposed to be at Drew's by eleven. I've gotta take her car back."

"I'm stripping you of your three pimp stripes." I reached across the booth and flicked his forehead. "Driving her rich-girl Barbie car and ditching on Waffle Hut guy's night." I shook my head in disappointment. "Going on dates. Now you're ditching us." I sniffed. "Nothing's sacred anymore."

"I'm not ditching. You were an hour late."

"Homeless Homer lost his life tonight!" I bowed my head over the table and crossed myself. "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Have you no respect for the dead?"

Wolf cackled. Bellamy buried his face in his hands. "I can't deal with this."

"Look at him, Wolf." I grabbed another fry, using it to point at Bellamy. "Can't deal with the truth. He's gone all soft."

"Speaking of soft…" Wolf grinned, jutting his chin toward me. "Found Romeo here over by Lola's tonight."

I socked him before Bellamy called me a hypocritical fuck.

"He was all up in her guts in the restroom at school, too."

"I wasn't in her guts, and I wasn't at her house." I wasn't about to let either of them know how deep down the Lola rabbit hole I'd fallen. Which was why I leaned back in the booth and tried to look smug as shit.

Bellamy drummed his fingers over the table, cocking a brow. "Whose house were you at then?"

"I didn't get her name." I took the plastic menu from behind the napkin dispenser and glanced over it like I didn't already know what I was getting.

"Or did you just forget her name?" Wolf shoved out of the booth and went to the jukebox by the entrance.

Seconds later, the beginning notes of "Lola" by The Kinks blasted through the crappy Waffle Hut speakers.

Wolf plopped back down in the booth just as the chorus hit, and I felt my eye twitch. "Maybe that will jog your baby- batter-drained memory," he said on a cackle, then cracked his imaginary whip. "Whipah. Still, pussy whipped."

I smacked the side of his face with the greasy menu. "I'm—" I smacked it again— "the pussy whipper."

The godawful noise of Bellamy's seven-year-old brother, Arlo, belting out "Baby Shark" came from the direction of the restroom.

Bellamy swiped a hand down his face on a groan. "He's been singing that song for three weeks straight because Drew taught it to him."

Drew taught it to him because she was diamond-encrusted-evil incarnate. That song could be used for straight-up torture, and I would have put money on her knowing it. "See the crap being with one girl gets you? ‘Baby Shark' and one, boring pus—"

"No more p-u-s-s-y comments, asshole." He pulled back his arm like he was going to throw a punch across the table just before Arlo hopped into the empty seat beside him.

"Uncle Hendrix isn't an asshole." Arlo frowned. That kid could be serious as shit. "He's a motherfuckin' baller."

My chest lit up with pride. Wolf cackled.

Bellamy glared at me. "Stop teaching my brother crap like that."

Crap like that. It was Dayton. And it was the truth. "So, you want me to teach him lies?"

Arlo shook his head. "Lying isn't nice." Then he took a massive pull from his half-melted milkshake.

I took the fork from the table and pointed it in his direction. "Unless it's to who?"

"The cops."

"And what do you never, ever do, Arlo?"

"Let a girl know you like her because she'll poop on your heart."

The kid would be thanking me later. "That's right." I glanced at Bellamy. "You should listen to him before Drewbers takes a massive rich-girl shit on your white-trash heart."

Sighing, Bell grabbed the milkshake and motioned Arlo out of the booth. "Come on."

"But I want to stay with Uncle Hendrix."

"No."

I heard the kid ask if he had a white-trash heart on their way out the door. I almost felt sorry for him, but the truth was, every one of us did