Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Fourteen

“What happened to your car, Josie?” Dad asked as the Lexus was being loaded onto the tow truck. Brock took his leave after the news of my car being impounded with the whispered promise of seeing me later. The look he gave before he left was one full of wickedness, threads of sympathy, and underlying tendrils of anger.

I pouted, still on the couch, facing my father. “Mom sold it,” I told him. “She wanted me to fit in.” The bitterness was evident in my tone. I still held a grudge for her selling my old car right under my nose.

Dad swore under his breath, losing his usually neutral position in this divorce. Rarely did he ever badmouth Angie, despite her deserving the bulk of the blame in their failed marriage. Dad deserved so much better than her.

And I hoped one day he found a woman who appreciated him and was worthy of his kind heart. For that to happen, he had to start dating.

He rubbed at his temple. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. And I was angry at Angie.”

He flinched just a fraction at me calling her by her first name. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.”

“You’re kidding, right? When are you going to wake up and see her for who she really is?” The words “she’s not my mother” nearly tumbled off my lips.

He loosed a tired breath. “I know you and your mother have been going through a difficult time.”

“Do not make excuses for her. You don’t know what she is capable of. The unforgivable things she has done.” I’d said too much, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Venom brewed within me.

“What things, Josie?” he asked suspiciously, his hand dropping away from his face.

He couldn’t possibly not have any inkling. “It doesn’t matter now. She has Steven and Steven’s money. I don’t want anything from them.”

I could see that he wanted to press me, but when I snuggled deeper into the couch and closed my eyes, he just sighed and let me be.

* * *

By nine o’clock I was ready for bed, partially because I was tired, but mostly because I wanted to see Brock. Living with him these last weeks, I’d grown more accustomed to his presence than I’d realized. Not to mention sleeping in his bed. My ten-year-old twin mattress didn’t cut it. And I missed the warmth of this body, the gentle breathing of another person next to me, the sense of knowing I wasn’t alone. The sex was an added bonus when it happened, which hadn’t been often.

I kept staring at the clock, willing it to move faster, wondering when Brock would show. I waited for the text that never came. Ten o’clock rolled around and my dad came to check on me in my room and say goodnight.

Things were different, I realized.

And it just wasn’t our disagreement about Angie.

Dad had changed.

But so had I.

And knowing the truth about my birth… rocked my world.

I’d thought coming here had been what I wanted. I’d thought putting miles between the Academy and me would clear my head. I’d thought space from the Elite would give me a new perspective.

I was wrong.

Their world had stained me, bled into my soul, and there was no scrubbing it clean.

I lay in the dark, trying to trick my mind into thinking my body didn’t hurt or that my pride wasn’t bruised. My thoughts turned to the cops. A sense of foreboding entered into my chest like a little seed. As the minutes went by, it sprouted roots, growing and tangling around my organs.

It had nothing to do with the Lexus being impounded. I didn’t give a shit about the car.

Yet, I couldn’t pinpoint what troubled me, only that it was bad.

A small knock tapped on my window, pulling me out of those dark thoughts. My heart spun, overwhelming the shroud of darkness within me. That’s what Brock did. He chased away the evil. I eased out of bed to unlock the window. What if it is not Brock? A ribbon of doubt crossed my now paranoid mind.

My bedroom was on the side of the house with a window that faced my neighbor and another the backyard. Being a ranch, there were no heights to contend with.

Believe it or not, this was the first time I’d snuck a boy into my room. My parents had loved Harvey, but we hadn’t spent a lot of time in my bedroom.

I peeled back a corner of the floor-length black curtain and held my breath. It came out in a relieved whoosh at the sight of Brock’s gorgeous frowning face.

God, even upset he was ridiculously attractive. It was like the devil and an angel had a baby, producing the most heavenly-looking male who had a naughty streak that went deep into his core. Fearless. Calculating. Ruthless. Powerful.

Brock leaned against the window frame as I slid the glass pane up. Moonlight splintered across his face as he lifted his eyes, and my heart thrust against my chest. Hands shoved into his pockets, the starlight made his eyes glitter.

I was so falling in love with him, even as I told myself not to. My pulse raced faster. “You climbing in or just going to lurk like a creeper?”

He snorted. “As if I have a creepy bone in my body.”

True. But his ego didn’t need me to confirm it. He eased himself through the opening and closed the window behind him as I hobbled back to the bed, waiting for him to join me. When he just stood near the window, I angled my head to the side, regarding him. “You can’t just stand there. It’s making me nervous.”

A single brow arched. “Since when do I make you nervous, Firefly?”

“Just sit down,” I groaned, patting the bed.

Seconds later, the mattress dipped under his weight, but there was still too much space between us. From the moment he showed up at my house earlier tonight, I wanted to be in his arms, engulfed by his scent and strength. I didn’t know why it was so hard for me to ask.

He brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear with the greatest care, a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of possessing. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m not going to break… any more,” I added with a lopsided grin.

He shook his head. “I don’t know how you can have a sense of humor about any of this.”

“If I don’t, I’ll lose my fucking mind.” A flash of something like respect or admiration passed over his features. I put a hand to his chest, just over his heart, giving in the urge to touch him without asking him for what I wanted. “Why are you here?” I asked. I was done with the games. If I took away anything from what happened today, it was that the lies stop; the secrets too.

No more.

No more excuses.

And that included my own secrets.

He cleared his throat. “I promised Grayson I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Propped on a pile of pillows behind me, I retorted, “Bullshit. Why are you really here? What is this we are doing? You and me?” I came right out and asked what I couldn’t get off my mind.

His fingers forked into his dark, windblown hair. “I don’t know, Firefly. I just know that I can’t stay away from you. Even though I should.” The confession didn’t seem to make him happy. If anything, it had the opposite effect, his lips turning down.

It was a start. Not a very good one. He literally told me nothing, other than he too was struggling to figure out what was between us.

Brock shook his head. “I never should have involved you. I didn’t expect this. I don’t like surprises, and you definitely took me by surprise.”

I placed a hand on his arm, drawing his eyes to me. There were shadows there, hidden in his face. “You’re not the only one who was surprised. I had plans, you know.”

His lips twitched, and the shadows faded just a sliver. “Oh, really. Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I was going to get the hell out of this town, go to college.”

“Has that changed?”

“No.” But at this rate, I might not make it out of high school. “I just feel as if I’ve fallen off track. I thought I’d be applying to colleges, visiting campuses. Instead, college has been the last thing on my mind.”

He nudged gently near my hip. “Make room, Firefly. You need to lie down and I don’t plan on sleeping sitting up.”

When he reached out, I shifted into his arms and let myself rest fully against him. I guess that was my answer, and for the first time since the alley, I could breathe. The pressure on my chest lifted, the weight on my shoulders eased. I didn’t have to handle everything on my own.

Not that the warmth and support of his arms changed anything.

I don’t know how, but he managed to fit onto my bed and tuck me into his arms. I was more or less lying on top of him. Not that I was complaining. Not in the slightest.

“Are you comfortable? Are you in pain?” he murmured softly, his woodsy scent hitting my senses.

“No,” I whispered. “Not in the slightest.” Thank you, painkillers. They gave me the chance to spend the night smashed into my twin-sized bed with Brock Taylor.

“Don’t worry, Firefly. You’ll get back on track,” he assured softly with such conviction anyone would have believed him. “The guys and I will make sure of it.”

Snuggling deeper into him, I finally let my heavy eyes drift closed, the steady beat of his heart pulsing under my cheek. I had just fallen asleep when something woke me back up. My gaze lifted to see Brock’s eyes already open.

A tiny ping hit the glass pane. And then another. “Is someone throwing rocks at my window?” I groaned, annoyed that I’d been woken up. I was far too comfortable to fucking move.

Brock ran his knuckles along my underarm. “Don’t tell me. Old boyfriend?”

I yawned and followed it up with a hissing wince, the cut on my mouth protesting against being stretched. “Not funny. What if it’s Carter?” Ribbons of unease wove through me, banishing the last remnants of sleep.

“I hope it is. I’ll kill him.” Brock’s temper flared to the surface as he untangled himself from the bedsheets and me. He did so carefully.

Was that anticipation I saw in his eyes? I put a hand on his arm, halting him from getting out of the bed. “Maybe you shouldn’t look.”

His dark brows bunched together. “I’m not scared of Carter.”

“I never said you were.” But maybe he should be. Besides, I was suddenly plenty worried for the both of us.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as Brock went to the window, brushing aside the curtain. From where I lay on the bed, I could only see the darkness of night, but the visible relaxing of the muscles in his back told me it wasn’t Carter.

I couldn’t think of a single person who would use my window other than Ainsley, but she’d definitely call first or text. We had talked briefly. She had been worried and pissed, all the appropriate responses to your best friend getting jumped by a gang of mean girls. She’d gotten a new phone, so I didn’t bother to tell her what happened to her old one. Knowing Ainsley, she’d harbor guilt that it was her phone that drew me to the alley.

Brock muttered a curse. “I should have guessed.”

“Who is it?” I inquired from the bed, hardly able to stand the suspense.

A devilishly handsome blond stuck his head through the window, shooting me a dimpled grin. “Hey, Josie Jo.”

I blinked from where I lay on the bed. “Micah?”

“They’re all here,” Brock said, looking anything but pleased. He tousled his dark hair, fluffing up any bedhead.

“All?” I echoed.

Brock’s lips twitched.

“We had to see you for ourselves,” Fynn’s said from somewhere behind Micah.

The next thing I knew, Micah, Fynn, and Grayson had climbed through my window. My bedroom was not big enough for four guys, especially four high school football players. Not to mention, my dad was down the hall. It was one thing to sneak a guy into my room. It was a fucking other level to sneak in four.

But a part of me was touched they cared enough to show up. Their concern squeezed my heart. How the hell had the Elite manage to weasel so quickly not just into my life but my heart as well?

Grayson jerked his head in greeting to Brock. “Figured you’d be here.” A look passed between them.

I maneuvered myself into a sitting position on the bed, eyes glancing warily at my locked bedroom door. Hopefully, Dad was fast asleep. He tended to be one of those people who not even a bomb going off would wake up.

Fynn whistled as he got a look at me. “Damn, JJ, you took a beating.”

“She didn’t hold back, did she,” Micah added. “Stupid bitch. She should know better than to mess with ours.”

Grayson's jaw hardened. “No one messes with family.”

Tonight, for the first time, I felt like part of the Elite. I almost didn’t care that it took getting my ass beat to get here. Feeling like I belonged like I was family, and it made me want to tear up and cry.

So not very Elite like.

I shoved back the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.

“Fuck this,” Grayson bit out. “I’m done dicking around, being patient. This asshole is going down. Ava too.”

“What do you have in mind?” Micah asked, the corner of his mouth curving.

Plotting seemed to be an Elite pastime.

They guys got comfortable in my room, finding wherever they could to sit or lean against the wall. “I appreciate you guys stopping by, I really do,” I interrupted before any nefarious plans could be made. “But I can’t have you all in here.”

Grayson rolled his eyes. “You and Brock can take one night off from bonking. Jesus. You just got out of the fucking hospital.”

I pinned my brother with a hard look. “For your information, my sex life is not open for discussion or any of your business, but this has nothing to do with sex. My dad is down the hall,” I explained. They were doing a decent job at keeping their voices low. I had to give them credit for that, but at some point, someone was going to knock something over. Not that my dad would hear it. There was just something in the anticipation of being caught I couldn’t handle right now.

A mischievous smile touched Micah’s lips. “This isn’t the first time we’ve snuck into a girl’s bedroom. We got this under control.”

“Individually or together? Like all four of you in one girl’s room?” I questioned, and then I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Micah’s stupid grin widened. “I have to admit, I always wondered what your room would look like.” His eyes spanned the cramped space, taking in what he could see in the small amount of moonlight streaming through the window. “It’s pretty much how I imagined.”

“They aren’t all spending the night, are they?” I asked, turning to Brock.

“No,” he stated firmly from where he perched on the edge of the bed closest to me.

“Hell, yes,” Micah said at the same time. “Slumber party. When was the last time we had one of those?”

“Last weekend,” Grayson stated flatly. “Every weekend. What do you think all those parties that you end up crashing all night are?”

“Good point. Josie Jo, you got anything to drink? Something strong. I needed a damn bottle after what you put us through.”

I snorted. Not to mention what I went through. “No one is raiding my dad’s beer stash.”

Micah wasn’t the only one to groan, but even I had to admit, I could use a drink.

“Ava and Carter think they’ve gotten the upper hand,” Brock stated, steering the conversation away from booze before things derailed, because, with Micah, the nonsense could go on for hours.

Fynn sat on the floor under the window, his knees bent, elbows resting on them. If he had stretched out his long legs, they would have taken up over half the room, I swear. “We need to destroy that alliance,” he said.

“And how do we plan to do that?” Grayson asked, tone somber. His baseball cap was pulled down low, shielding most of his eyes and making him look damn right criminal.

Brock tapped his thumb against his knee. “We give her what she wants.”

“Does anyone know what that crazy lunatic wants?” Micah questioned.

One by one, the Elite turned to Brock, and my heart plummeted. They couldn’t possibly be thinking…

“Me,” Brock said without any infliction in his voice or change in his dark expression.

I, on the other hand, had an array of emotions. Mainly horror and disgust.

He wasn’t serious.

Oh, but he was.

The idea of Ava and him together made me want to hurl.

“She wants to be at the top. I can do that just as quickly as I tossed her aside,” he added grimly.

“More importantly, she wants to be the It girl. The one who snags Brock wholly, no sharing.” Fynn’s gaze shifted to me, and my cheeks warmed. Was he suggesting that I was the girl who snagged Brock?

No way.

Not possible.

He just didn’t understand the strange and unhealthy arrangement Brock and I had.

“No,” I hissed, making sure to keep my voice from rising like it wanted to do. My chest tightened. I’d been around these guys just long enough to start to understand how their minds worked. What they were suggesting, implying… “No,” I said again when not a single one of them refuted me or tried to pacify me.

Just the opposite.

“I’m going to crush her,” Brock said coldly. “Since murder really isn’t an option.”

“There has to be another way,” I rebutted, absolutely hating the idea of Brock and Ava. Why was I getting so defensive? I was acting like a jealous girlfriend, and everyone in the room was thinking the same thing. I wasn’t Brock’s girlfriend. I had no claim on him.

But… Brock and Ava…?

Fuck no.

Fury flooded me, making my head throb and dulling the effects of the painkillers. The web of lies and deception these guys wove just went deeper and deeper. I felt as if I was stuck in a dark tunnel with no end in sight, no light to guide me out; I was just steeped in darkness.

My lips pressed tight together as my heart thundered.

“It will probably work,” Fynn said in agreement. “Ava doesn’t know who she is if she isn’t the most popular and desired girl in school.”

“You can’t be serious,” I gasped to Brock.

“Ava’s motives were purely selfish. I won’t let what she did to you go. It’s been decided,” he said with an air of finality, like a judge slamming down his gavel. His words hung in the air.

As I glanced around the room and saw the resolve in each of their faces, I knew I was outnumbered. Nothing I said or did would change their minds. I let out a sigh of defeat. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep lying,” I said, my eyes drifting eventually to Grayson. It got harder and harder by the day, and after what happened today, I wanted the lies to stop and the truth to come out. Selfish, a little, because I was only thinking about myself, not all the other lives that would be impacted by this monstrous secret. Including the man sleeping down the hall.

Grayson’s identical shade of brown eyes as mine studied me. As his sister, I wondered what he saw. Then he nodded. “I know.”

It was more than an hour before Brock ushered the guys back through the window. By then, my body was beyond drained. I fell asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, and I slept through the night uninterrupted without nightmares. When I woke up in the morning, Brock was gone but his scent clung to my sheets.

There was also another scent wafting through the air, seeping in from under the doorway.

Coffee.

As foretold by the doctor, my body hurt twice as much as it did yesterday. Specks of purple started to paint under the skin, the bruises becoming visible. Not even with the draw of coffee was I ready to get out of bed. It required moving, and I wasn’t certain that was such a good idea.

Hugging a pillow to my chest, I contemplated rolling over and going back to bed, but ultimately, the aroma of coffee drew me out of bed. My poor body ached everywhere and besides coffee, I really needed a pain reliever.

As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, Dad had a fresh cup of coffee in hand and a gruff smile. “Morning. I thought you could use this.” He extended the mug to me. Dad to the rescue.

“You have no idea,” I mumbled, memories of last night inundating me.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, setting my bottle of medicine on the kitchen table.

I sighed and slide into a chair. “Better than I thought.” Thanks to Brock. No amount of pleading had changed his mind. Eventually, I had given up.

As the coffee began to filter into my system, I had a devastating thought. Would Brock ignore me now that he planned to destroy Ava? What about the other guys? This was a stupid fucking plan, and I wasn’t sure I could idly sit by while Brock pretended to be into another girl—particularly Ava Whitmore.