Bullies Love and Lies Page 2

  Arden nods. “Yep, full-time Dad.”

  If Arden has kids, then I doubt he’s a bad guy. Jeff doesn’t have kids. “You adopted two?”

  He nods. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police? I have connections too, Emma.”

  “No, I just want to forget.” I lean my head against the window and close my eyes.

  “I’ve learned that it’s not so easy to forget the hard things,” Arden says.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had lots of practice.”

  Chapter 3

  Someone gently shaking my shoulder wakes me from sleep. I look up, expecting to see Jeff, but unfamiliar brown eyes stare back at me. I let the memories of earlier wash over me as I attempt to shake the fog from my brain. A suit coat falls to my lap as I sit up.

  Frowning, Arden steps back from the open passenger door. “You okay?”

  I clear my scratchy throat. “Fine. Just tired.” No need to tell this nice stranger that I feel like death. He might not let me have the extra room if he thinks I’m going to die in it.

  “Okay, well, come on inside,” Arden says, still looking concerned.

  Clutching my purse to my chest, I drag myself out of the car and then follow him through the garage and into a laundry room that must have been a bedroom at one point because it’s huge. Rows of white cabinets take up an entire wall. A white washing machine and dryer are next to a sink with more cabinets above.

  Arden pulls a bundle of fabric from a basket on top of the dryer. “Would you like a tour of the house, or something to eat? The guest room’s upstairs if you’d rather head to bed.”

  I yawn, feeling groggy. “I’m pretty tired.”

  “A tour tomorrow then,” he says, gesturing for me to follow him.

  Arden leads me through a dimly lit kitchen that’s as big as the studio apartment my dad rented right after my mom left. And I thought the laundry room was amazing. The kitchen is like something you’d see on that television show that renovates houses.

  “You okay?”

  I tear my gaze away from mahogany wooden cabinets to look at Arden, who’s on the other side of the kitchen. I blush when I realize I stopped walking to ogle his kitchen. “Fine,” I mumble, walking quickly to catch up with him.

  We walk through a spacious family room with hardwood flooring, a high ceiling, plush, mocha-colored furniture and a massive stone fireplace. Arden points out his office, and then we’re walking up a staircase that leads to a long hallway.

  “My two youngest have rooms up here, and my oldest is in the basement.” He opens the first door on the right and flicks the light switch.

  I follow him into a room that’s decorated with warm colors and matching furniture. The elegant crown molding that was throughout the house is in this room too. I’ve never seen a house like this. Arden must be loaded.

  I look him over, this time seeing how young he looks despite having a kid in college. His skin is free of imperfections, his thick brown hair is a shade lighter than his perfectly shaped brows, and his body frame looks lean but strong. Maybe he’s an actor. Actors are rich, and he has the looks.

  He sets the clothes on top of the wooden dresser. “I’m at the end of the hall if you need anything, and there’s a bathroom two doors down on the left. You going to be okay?”

  I nod, setting my tattered cloth purse on the nightstand. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Once he leaves the room, I change into the University of Colorado shirt and the black boxers he gave me. The mattress molds to my body as I settle onto the king-size bed, and my heads sinks into the thick down pillow. I pull the soft, royal-blue comforter up to my chin and turn onto my side.

  I’ve slept in a zillion different places, but this is by far the most comfortable. Arden’s unintentionally ruining any future places I’ll sleep.

  I feel like I’ve just fallen asleep when a dream has me gasping for breath. I clutch my chest, my heart hammering. I’m disoriented and my mouth is dry.

  Bright sunlight streams in through the far wall, which is one long window covered with a sheer curtain. The memories of last night come flooding back. That was real, but the dream wasn’t. I’m safe at Arden’s house.

  “Ah, she’s awake,” a guy’s voice says, startling a scream from me.

  I scramble to the other side of the bed and drop to the floor with a loud thud. I pop back up to see two boys staring at me from the other side of the room. The one with dark-brown hair and even darker eyes is staring at me like he wants to kill me. Frozen in fear, I can’t take my eyes off him.

  He leans to the side, whispering something to his buddy next to him. I slowly move my gaze to the other one, noticing he doesn’t look angry, just surprised. His dirty blond hair is almost touching his pale-blue eyes.

  They both look my age and are dressed casually, but the blond’s jeans are baggy, and his gray shirt is wrinkled and loose around his lean frame. The dark-haired boy’s clothes look like they’ve been ironed, and they fit his athletic form perfectly. It takes my brain a minute to register that these must be Arden’s sons, and he probably didn’t have time to tell them he was bringing me here. No wonder they’re looking at me like that.

  “He brought home a prostitute,” the dark-haired boy spits, his voice full of venom.

  I pull the end of the blanket from the bed to cover myself even though the shirt is enough coverage.

  “Don’t be shy,” the other guy says.

  “I doubt she’s shy,” the dark-haired guy says. “She doesn’t want to give any freebies.” He tilts his head to the side. “Isn’t that right, pretty woman? You don’t show those hard nipples for free.” He moves to the side of the bed, standing at least six inches taller than me, and yanks the blanket from my grasp. He locks his jaw, nostrils flaring.

  “Her tits don’t look that big. Hard to tell through the shirt.” the blue-eyed boy says.

  I stand frozen, feeling uncomfortable and awkward. I have never been in a situation like this, and I’ve been in some situations. “Did your dad talk to you?” I ask, my eyes bouncing between them.

  “How much were you able to get outta him?” Ryan asks me.

  “Huh?”

  “What are you two doing home? I told you she needed time,” Arden says from the doorway. His gaze cuts to me. “I’m sorry, Emma. They were supposed to be staying at a friend’s house.”

  “We heard crying. Just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Ryan says, and the other boy nods.

  “Boys, why don’t you go downstairs to give Emma some space?” He moves into the room, and they shuffle out. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably overwhelmed.”

  “You told your kids I was coming?”

  “I sent Ryan a quick message last night telling him a guest was coming back with me.”

  “I don’t want anyone to know why I ran. Can you please not tell anyone, especially your kids?” I’d be mortified if they found out about my situation.

  “We don’t like to keep secrets from each other.” He rubs the back of his neck.

  “Please, Arden.”

  “They haven’t had the easiest life either, Emma. If you give them a chance, I’m sure you all can become great friends.”

  I nod my head even though I don’t agree. Those boys were assholes, and how hard a life could they have had growing up in a house like this? “I’m a private person. I just… please?” I beg.

  He sighs. “How about we say you’re an old friend’s daughter who needed a change of scenery.”

  I sag with relief. “Thank you.”

  “Do you want to enroll in school? Were you in school?”

  “I was going into my senior year.”

  “Brent and Ryan are both seniors. The school year started a few days ago. When do you turn eighteen?”

  “On Monday.”

  “Perfect. You could start then. It’ll make the paperwork easier to enroll since you’ll be an adult. Do you have ID?” />
  “Everything’s in my purse.” I gesture to it on the nightstand. I always make sure to keep important documents with me, a habit from all the times I had to move without warning. “What about my transcripts? Do you think the school will let me start so soon, and shouldn’t I be getting a job and trying to find an apartment instead of finishing school?”

  Arden smiles. “I’m friends with the principal. He could get you in today if I asked, and I don’t want you to worry about finding a job. You can stay here for as long as you need to. I’ve got plenty of space.”

  “Oh,” I say, surprised. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take me to find a job, and then it’ll be a few months before—”

  “I want you to focus on finishing high school. When you start college, you can think about a part-time job. There is no rush.” He looks around the room. “You’ll need clothes. I’ll get you a card, but until then, you can use mine. Do you want to go shopping tomorrow or Sunday? There’s a mall a few miles from here. You can use the Mustang in the garage.”

  All I can do is stare at him. This can’t be real. “You’re going to let me. . . you’re giving me money and letting me use your car? I don’t have money to pay you back.”

  “Emma, you’re a kid. You don’t need to pay me back. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  Feeling overwhelmed by his kindness and wanting to change the subject, I ask, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I was an investment banker for years, I own Croft real estate, and several restaurants. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of Romero’s?”

  I shake my head.

  “Romero is my Mother’s maiden name. The restaurants are popular here and in Arizona. I’m in the process of expanding to California.” He pulls a vibrating phone from his pocket and frowns. “Business call, but it can wait a little while. Why don’t we go downstairs and have breakfast before the boys go to school? I’ll make us pancakes and sausage.”

  I nod. “Okay. Sure.”

  Arden walks me to the kitchen to wait while he strides away to find Brent and Ryan. I step in front of French doors that give an unobstructed view of the spacious backyard. The covered patio is complete with outdoor furniture, a mounted flat screen, and a grill. There’s a small shed near the only tree in the fenced-in yard.

  “The boys will be here in a minute. They had a late night and are a bit grumpy. Come sit at the bar while I get breakfast started.”

  The bar top is a cream-colored marble, and three glowing orange lantern-like lights hang above it. The five mahogany high-backed bar stools match the cabinets. I take a seat at the end of the bar while Arden pulls ingredients from a large stainless-steel refrigerator.

  Ryan and Brent stroll in a few minutes later, mumbling to each other. Ryan sits at the end of the bar, furthest from me, and Brent sits next to him. Feeling eyes on me, I fidget awkwardly with the cloth napkin Arden set in front of me. I turn to look at Ryan and Brent. “Late night, huh?” I say, trying to break the ice.

  Ryan gives me a look of disdain while Brent gives me a coy smile and says, “Not as late as yours, I bet.”

  I narrow my eyes in confusion, and then he winks, confusing me even further.

  “So, Dad. What have you two been up to that you needed us out of the house?” Ryan asks.

  Arden stiffens, but when he turns around, he’s smiling. “Just thought it would be best if she got the feel of the house and some quiet time.”

  Ryan nods. “Our plans fell through, so here we are. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  Arden nods. “It is what it is, Ryan.”

  “Heard you needed a change of scenery,” Ryan says to me. “Didn’t like your scenery at home?”

  “I just needed a change, something different.” That is a lame excuse. I should have thought of something more detailed like my parents died in a car accident.

  Ryan narrows his eyes. “And how long in this change going to last?”

  “She’ll be starting school with you boys on Monday,” Arden says cheerfully. “And it just so happens that Monday is her eighteenth birthday. We can go to Arcana’s for dinner.”

  Seeing the scowls on Ryan’s and Brent’s faces, I quickly shake my head. “Oh, I’m not big on birthdays. Honestly, I’m fine not doing anything.”

  “We always celebrate at Arcana’s, but if you’d rather go somewhere else, that’s fine,” Arden says over his shoulder.

  Ryan’s fists clench in his lap, and Brent cuts his narrowed eyes to me. Geez, they look pissed off. “If you insist on doing something, ordering pizza would be fine. I’d rather not go out to dinner.” I glance over at Ryan and Brent, hoping that made them happy, but nope, they still look angry.

  Ryan clears his throat. “Brent and I have a study group that day, but you guys have fun.”

  “Yeah, we can’t miss it,” Brent says. “It’s graded.”

  I shouldn’t feel disappointed that they don’t like me, but I do. Everyone always likes me. I don’t understand what I’ve done to them.

  Arden pours batter onto a griddle that fits over the top of two burners. “What time will it be over?”

  “Late.” Ryan shrugs. “But hey, since it’ll be Emma’s first day at school, we can do something fun for her there.”

  Arden bobs his head and grins. “Thanks, Ry.” He fixes his gaze on me. “How does that sound, Emma?”

  I force a smile. “Sure, whatever works. I’m pretty simple.” When Arden turns back around to tend to the food, I whisper, “Hey, Ryan, I don’t need anything special. Just act like it’s a normal day. Okay?”

  “Oh, precious Emma, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll love your surprise,” Ryan whispers, and Brent snickers.

  I want to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, but the tense situation stops me. Instead, I fidget with the napkin, letting my anxiety cause my stomach to roll. My chest aches for my friend. If Jessa were here, she’d have no problem saying what was on her mind, and I’d feel more like myself with a familiar face.

  Arden sets a stack of pancakes onto the plate in front of me. “They’re a tad burnt.” He scoots the syrup closer. “Might need to add an extra serving of syrup to them.” He then adds two sausage links to my plate before stacking Ryan’s and Brent’s plates with food.

  “I haven’t had homemade pancakes before. We always had frozen ones.” I pour syrup onto my plate and then mop my pancake in it. I take a bite, tasting cinnamon and vanilla. “This is really good. They’re so fluffy,” I say around a mouthful, and Arden grins.

  “These are good. Thanks for breakfast,” Brent says.

  Arden drops down in the chair next to Brent. The tension in the room eases as the guys chat football while I pretend to pay attention. I’ve never been into sports besides a local basketball game or two with the neighborhood kids.

  I rest my chin on the palm of my hand, watching their conversation. Now that I have time to look at them, I can see Ryan must be Arden’s biological child. They have the same color hair that’s even cut and styled similarly. Ryan’s built like Arden: tall with an athletic frame. They both have a strong jawline and Romanesque nose. Ryan’s nose looks a little crooked, though, like it’s been broken before.

  Brent’s dark-blond hair is shaggy, nearly covering his blue eyes. He has a lip piercing and both of his ears are pierced. He’s cute, but he reminds me of my guy friends back home who smoke a lot of weed and sleep around.

  “Emma.” Arden waves his hand in front of my face. “You in there, kiddo?”

  “S-sorry,” I stutter. “What’d you say?”

  Arden chuckles. “Do you play sports?”

  I shrug. “Not really.”

  Brent scoffs. “Sports are a big deal around here.”

  Arden collects my empty plate. “That’ll give her plenty of time to enjoy the games with me.”

  Ryan sneers at me while Arden cleans up the kitchen counter. I want to ask him what the fuck his problem is, but again, the words don’t come out.

  “Mr. A won’t care. It’
s hard to hurt his feelings,” Brent says, elbowing Ryan in the ribs.

  “What was that?” Arden asks.

  “Emma was scared to tell you that she prefers frozen pancakes to yours. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Brent says.

  My mouth drops open. “I didn’t say that.”

  Arden focuses on me, his eyebrows dipping. “You don’t need to say what you think I want to hear. We’re pretty big on saying what’s on our mind.”

  “Yep. Big on honesty,” Ryan says with a grin.

  I close my open mouth as my gaze bounces between each of them. All I can do is slowly nod. I can’t believe Brent did that.

  When Arden turns back around to continue cleaning up, Ryan and Brent turn to me and smirk. What in the actual fuck? I feel like bolting from the room, but that will make me look guilty, so I wait a few minutes before thanking Arden for breakfast and escaping the kitchen.

  I race up the stairs, ready to hide out for the day. As I get to the top step, my body is slammed against the wall. My shoulder burns from the impact. I expect to see damage to the house from something smashing through it, but I only see Ryan staring down at me, and the look on his face is murderous.

  Chapter 4

  Ryan’s hand wraps around my throat, pressing me firmly against the wall. “Hello, whore. Where did my dad find you, the corner, the club? You're a prostitute, right?”

  All I can do is gawk at him.

  He leans closer. “Cut the naive nice girl act. You were in my dad’s clothes. Did you fuck him? I'm not stupid. You think you're the first bitch to come in and take advantage of my father's generosity?”

  “What? I'm not—"

  His free hand slaps the wall next to my face, making me jump. “Bullshit. I know when my dad's lying. What state did you say you're from again?”

  His anger is a thick cloud, filling the space around us. It makes my breath catch in my throat, bringing back memories I’d rather forget. Anger and men are never a good mix. My mind blanks. “New York,” I blurt, and then scrunch my nose. I have no idea why I said that. I've never even been to New York.