29. Drew

TWENTY-NINE

drew

The bang of pots and pans in the kitchen woke me way too early the next morning.

A heavy arm lay across my waist. The rasp of Bellamy's breath soothed me, and his firm grip on my body was reassuring and protective.

Another loud bang came from downstairs, and Bellamy groaned, tightening his hold on me.

"What is Hendrix doing?" I grumbled, wincing against the bright light spilling through the threadbare curtains.

"Who knows?" He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, and a comforting warmth crawled through my veins. "It's best not to ask, though."

I didn't want to get out of this bed, but I was grounded and had no idea when my dad might pop up. Plus, Nora had my car. "Can you take me home? Nora took my car."

"Yeah. I gotta go get Arlo, anyway." He threw back the covers, then shifted off the bed. My gaze trailed over his broad back and his ass when he leaned over to grab his jeans. "I guess I'll need to take your friend home, too. Hendrix's ass sure can't."

I got dressed, then I did the full-on walk of shame through Hendrix's decaying house. Only I hadn't had a one-night stand.

We'd slept in the same bed, and Bellamy hadn't tried it on once. He'd even told me not to kiss him so he wouldn't try, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

We rounded the corner into the living room. Dishes clattered in the kitchen before something shattered.

"What the hell are you doing, dipshit?" Bellamy shouted.

I followed him into the kitchen, immediately covering my eyes when I saw Diane on her knees in front of Hendrix.

"What the hell, man?" Bellamy turned, pressing my face into his chest and shielding me from the sight of Hendrix face-fucking my friend. "You've got a bedroom," Bellamy said.

"And you've got a house…"

"Seriously?"

"The kitchen's way better," Hendrix said on a cackle. "Can you leave so she can finish?"

Bellamy started pushing me toward the living room.

"She'll be done in five—no two minutes," Hendrix called. "Damn. Where'd you learn that …"

My stomach dropped when Bellamy pulled up outside my house, and a new Maserati sat in the drive. My dad was back early. And I was supposed to be grounded.

I didn't care about my dad's punishments for the most part, and neither did he, so long as there was at least the perception that I was actually following them.

I tossed my head back against the seat and groaned. "Shit."

Bellamy leaned forward, staring at the driveway. "So, the asshole went with a black one this time?"

"Apparently so. Think I can convince him I went for a morning run?" I asked, attempting to cover up that I was probably about to get put on house arrest.

Bellamy's gaze skimmed over me. "In that dress. Nah. Don't think so, baby girl." He rubbed his thumb over my lip, smearing what little lip stain was probably left. "Shame. You look fucked, even though you weren't."

"Just to add fuel to the fire," I mumbled as I reached for the door. "Pray for me."

He caught my chin between his fingers, slamming his mouth to mine before his teeth sank into my lips. "I don't pray."

I placed a finger on the silver crucifix he always wore. "Could've fooled me." Then I got out, flushed and breathless.

I opened the door to my father sitting on the bottom steps of the stairwell. Lips flat. Dress sleeves rolled up, and hands folded over his slacks. He pushed up without a word and crooked a finger, telling me to follow him as he went into the kitchen.

I was not scared of my father, but at that moment, I was.

I'd been fired for dealing weed, suspended twice, crashed his car, and been grounded. And now, he caught me sneaking back in wearing my clothes from the night before on a Sunday morning. It didn't really get much worse.

He yanked a chair from the island. "Sit." Then rounded the other side.

I took a seat, perching on the edge as tension set my spine ramrod straight.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"At a friend's house."

"A friend's house. That's what we call it these days?" His nostrils flared. "You are grounded, Drucella."

"I was studying late?" Shit, that lie was weak, but what was I going to say? I was at some brothel house in Dayton with Bellamy West.

"Yes. I'm so sure." He looked at me with the usual, loathed disappointment, laced with a healthy dose of disgust. "Where is your car?"

"Nora borrowed it. Hers broke down." Another crappy lie.

"Well, when Nora brings it back, you will give the keys to me."

"What? You're taking my car away?"

"Yes."

"How will I get to school?"

"The school bus."

Oh. My. God. I honestly didn't think there was anything left for him to do to make my life worse. Turns out rock bottom has a sewer.

"You will go to school. You will come home." His finger jabbed against the counter. "And you will do nothing else. I've evidently not been hard enough on you, and from your behavior, I can see Black Mountain was nothing but a waste. Not even they could manage to instill a sense of decency in you." He went to move away from the counter. "But I sure as hell will, Drucella. If it kills me."

Then he left the room.

I didn't even know what to say. So, I called the one person who could possibly save me from this: my mother.

Irina was nothing if not the typical rich, absent parent, but she tried to act like she cared by way of material things. Like cars.

An hour later, I heard my dad shouting on the phone from my room. With a smile, I put my headphones in and let her work her magic.

I flopped back onto the bed, and though everything was crap, I couldn't help but think about Bellamy, of waking up wrapped in his arms.

The way he kissed me like I was more than just some girl he wanted to screw, some girl he'd made a deal with. I could no longer pretend that was the case because we'd slept in a bed together and he hadn't even tried to touch me.

I couldn't quite work out when we'd gone from hating each other to this, but I wanted it. And that scared me because the things we really want have the power to break us. And Bellamy West had heartbreak written all over his beautiful body.