39. Zepp

THIRTY-NINE

zepp

Hendrix grinned like an idiot at the half-dead Christmas tree he had propped in the corner.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

"What's it look like, ball bag? I'm putting up a tree." He shook his head before crossing the room and plopping down on the couch beside me. "It's festive and shit."

"Where did you get it?"

"Stole it from the boy scouts." He swiped the game controller from the side table.

I stared at my delinquent brother. Never mind the fact that I had no idea how he had brought the thing home but stealing from the Boy Scouts? That was low. Even for us. "You're fucked up. You know that, right?"

"Jesus wouldn't like you calling the spirit of Christmas the F-word, fuckface."

For the past two weeks, Hendrix had been messing around with some preacher's daughter. That had to be where the Jesus comment came from.

He started a game, and halfway through, paused it. "I'm hungry. Get Monroe to grab some Burger King on the way over or something, would you?"

"She's over at Jade's studying."

"That's bullshit. I want Burger King."

My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. I pushed to my feet and swiped my keys from the table.

Hendrix scooted to the edge of the couch. "Where are you going?"

"Burger King."

"Fuck you!" He tossed the controller down and hopped up, following me to the door.

I glared over my shoulder at him. "What are you doing?"

"Coming to Burger King."

"You don't have a car."

"And whose fault is that?" he asked.

I cocked a brow as I opened the door. Hendrix had totaled three cars in the past year, which meant the police had revoked his license. "Yours."

Grumbling, he shouldered past me and down the steps. When I got to the drive, Hendrix was straddling my bike. "Get off," I said, shoving him.

"No. I want Burger King!"

I stood beside my bike, picturing how ridiculous we would look riding through the slums of Dayton with his bitch ass holding onto me. He may have been my brother. But, hell no. "You are not riding bitch behind me." I slammed a fist into his shoulder. "Get off."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I won't even hold onto you. Just suck it up and be a man."

I snatched my helmet up and pulled it over my head. "Get up."

"Fine." He huffed. "I'll buy."

It was concerning what I would do to save five bucks.

After Burger King, we walked over to the Wal-E-Mart. Hendrix ducked off to the bathroom to take a shit, and I went to the jewelry counter. I had pushed an extra five hundred bucks' worth of weed to save up for Monroe's present. She was absolutely not the jewelry type, but I kept coming back to the diamond rings. Eighteen. Twenty-five. What did age matter? I loved her. More than anything in this world, and I just wanted to know that no matter what, she would always be mine.

The lady behind the counter shuffled over to me. "Y'ant to see something, dumplin'?"

Sweat beaded on my brow, and for some reason, I felt a little choked. "Uh…" I dragged a finger over the smudged glass. The diamonds were expensive as hell, and the ones I could afford were barely visible. My finger stopped over a gold ring with a round, green stone, tiny diamonds on each side. "That one?"

"The emerald one, sugar pie?"

"Yeah. Sure." I didn't know what the hell it was. I just thought Monroe would like it.

She pulled it out of the little velvet slot, handed it to me, then shoved her glasses up her nose while she peeked at the price tag. "That one's five hundred twenty, sweetie. Want me to put it back?"

"No." I snatched it from her hand. I knew it was supposed to be a diamond, but that seemed kind of mindless. Plus, diamonds were plain. And nothing about Monroe was plain. I handed it back to the lady. "Can you put it in a box?" I asked, already digging in my back pocket for the cash.

"I surely can." She tucked the ring inside a box, then dropped it inside a bag. After I had paid, I turned around to head toward the bathroom to find Hendrix.

A few guys in Dayton letterman jackets passed by, Matthews in the middle. The son of a bitch actually paused for a second, his gaze aimed at me.

I cocked a brow, daring him to say something to me, but he followed the rest of the football players toward the entertainment section.

I was halfway through home goods when I heard my last name echo down the aisle. God, that shithead was brave. My muscles coiled when I turned around.

"This is bullshit," Chase said, barreling toward me. "Monroe won't talk to me. I know you're keeping her away."

He had to be kidding. I thought about him kissing her, and every part of my being wanted to punch him right in the mouth. I pushed my shoulders back a little, preparing to knock him the fuck out.

"God, you're stupid, aren't you?" Come a little closer, asshole.

"I don't know how the hell you've managed to get a girl like her, but we both know she can do better."

And that, unfortunately, was the truth. But she was with me. And this dick wasn't worth it. She would kill me if I hurt him, so instead, I shook my head, and I turned the other way.

"That girl has wanted to go to Dixon since she was eight years old," he said. "Then she shacks up with you. She's giving up on everything, applying to some shit Alabama college…"

Closing my eyes, I stopped mid-stride. My fingers pulled into my palms, and I told myself I couldn't hit him, telling myself he had no clue what he was talking about. "Matthews," I turned to face him, anger tearing through me at Mach speed. "You should shut the fuck up. Now."

"She loves you. And she's never had that. She'll give up everything for you, and you know it."

That hit hard. Too close to home. In a matter of milliseconds, I was comparing myself to my father, comparing Monroe to my mom.

"What can you offer her? Dayton? Drug dealing? Stealing cars? What about when you go to jail?"

The thing that sucked, he was right. And the fact that she deserved so much better was something I had tried to ignore for so damn long; something I had told myself wasn't true because I loved her. Love had to count for something, right?

"Let me guess, Matthews," I spun around and took a step. "That's when you'll swoop in and save her? Fuck off with your bullshit." But it wasn't bullshit. It was the awful truth.

"You know, I can handle her not loving me. I just can't watch her destroy herself to be with you." He eyed me up and down while backing away. "Are you really gonna make her stay in this shit hole, just so she can be with you? So much for love, huh?"

I stood in the middle of that aisle, the bag with Monroe's ring clutched in my sweating palm and my stomach in absolute knots while he stormed around the corner. That dickface had no idea what he was talking about. I did love her. I loved her more than anything else. And the idea of letting her go nearly killed me.

Because I was a piece of shit.

Hendrix booked it down the main aisle, ornaments falling out of his hoodie. "Come on, cocksucker. We gotta go." He nearly busted his ass when he hooked it through the bath section.

Shaking my head, I followed the trail of shattered reindeers and Santas to the exit, taking the box from the bag and tucking it in my front pocket before climbing on my bike to head home.

"Dammit!" Hendrix shook his shirt out in the living room, kicking a toe over his haul of stolen ornaments. "I lost Frosty the Snowman."

"That's what you get for stealing shit," I said.

"Like you don't!" He snatched up one of the ornaments and hung it on the tree. There was no arguing with him, and even if there were, Chase's words kept playing on a loop in my head. I did love Monroe. More than I had ever loved myself. And what the hell was I supposed to do with that?

I watched him hang a few more decorations before I went to my room and grabbed my sketchbook. I didn't think. Just let the pencils form lines and shapes over the paper. Purples and blacks. Bright reds and greens. My fingers cramped by the time my bedroom door creaked open.

"Just so you know," Monroe's arms came around me, her lips pressing to my neck, "that is the worst Christmas tree I've ever seen."

My chest ached; she deserved so much better than this. Screw Chase for making me see that. "Yeah." I inhaled a breath, trying to push away the notion that we weren't meant to be with each other. "Hendrix stole it. And the ornaments."

"Of course he did." Her lips touched my neck again. "What are you drawing?"

"Don't know." I stared down at the mess of shapes and colors, then moved the chair back from the desk.

A few weeks ago, I thought she was pregnant. Because she could have been. I had been that stupid and careless, screwing her without a rubber. Out of all the girls, Monroe was the only girl I had done that with. Because I trusted her, loved her, and wasn't that fucked up? The one girl I loved, that had a future—I could have totally ruined because I couldn't be bothered with a condom. Because it felt too good and I trusted her. Worst of all, though, she had trusted me.

I grabbed her hips, staring at the stained carpet under my feet. "What would you have done? If you'd been pregnant?"

"Uh, there was never a moment where I thought I was."

"Roe." My grip on her tightened. "We both know you could have been. What would you have done?"

"I don't know. Figured it out, I guess."

"What about school?"

"I haven't thought about it. Because it didn't happen." She touched my cheek, her eyes searching mine when my gaze lifted to hers. "But, we would have figured it out."

And screwed up her life. Just like my mom had.

Monroe made her way to my bed, stripping out of her skirt before she laid down and snagged the half-smoked joint from the ashtray on the nightstand. "Wanna smoke?"

Had I messed her up there too? I pushed up from the chair, crossed the room, and took the joint from her, dropping it into a soda can. "You always smoked weed?" I caged her in my arms, kissing her while gliding my hand along the curve of her waist.

"Occasionally."

"Occasionally…" I pushed her shirt up, biting the top of her tit.

Her breath caught, her thighs parting before she pulled me between them. "It's only a habit if you pay for it."

But that was so far from the truth. God, I was screwing her up, and I knew it, but I fought through that knowledge and pressed my lips to hers. Hard. Desperate. Because I had never had anything like Monroe before, and I knew I never would again.

"I love you," I whispered, unhooking her bra. "So damn much." Enough that I couldn't let her fuck everything up just for me.

My hands roamed over her thigh to her hip. I took the side of her thong, and she helped me pull them off by wiggling her legs. After they hit the floor, I grabbed her face. "You know that, right?" Then I planted another hard kiss to her lips. "I love you more than anything."

"I know." She touched her forehead to mine. "I love you too, Zepp."

The next morning, the noise of the shower echoed down the hall. I opened my drawer to take out the little blue box. The ring sat in the middle of the velvet, sparkling against the Wal-E-Mart logo in the background. I could get down on a knee and give this to her, and I knew she would say yes. She'd put that damn ring on her finger and smile and think her life was grand when all I was doing was taking a huge shit on every aspiration she ever had.

That's what love did.

It made people blind. It made people do stupid things. Like stay in Dayton…