Songs for this chapter:
Run- Snow Patrol
Skinny love- Bon Jovi
Somewhere only we know -Keane
Lay me down- Sam smith
***
Adam's P.O.V
I find myself singing with the lyrics on the radio.
Yes I do, I believe
That one day I will be, where I was
Right there, right next to you
And it's hard, the days just seem so dark
The moon, and the stars, are nothing without you
Your touch, your skin, where do I begin?
No words can explain, the way I'm missing you
The night, this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside
These tears, they tell their own story
You told me not to cry when you were gone
But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong
Can I lay by your side, next to you, you
And make sure you're alright
I'll take care of you
And I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight
I slam the power off as my hands start aching for something else to break. Why the fuck was I singing this song? As I hate to admit it, but I meant every word.
She left me. She fucking left me. Again. I thought this was it, she got what she wanted with the verdict. She could finally sleep peacefully at night without the nightmares haunting her. I just wanted her to be happy. I guess that's what I get for trying.
"You're gonna burn the engine if you keep your hands on the brakes and speed at the same time," I tell Lucian as we stand in the driveway of his house. He pulls his tongue out at me as he keeps doing what I specifically told him not to do a second ago. Smoke erupts from the back side as the wheels scratch on the concrete leaving trails of black. I wipe my nose, irritated by the burning smell.
I wince. "I would take care of your baby much better than you can," I challenge.
"Nah," he cuts me off as he climbs out of his motorcycle. "This is my baby. Get your own."
"He can get yours," Jeremy says as he joins us. He sips at his orange juice. "Bet on it."
I smirk. Jeremy smirks. Lucian smirks.
"What do I get in return? I don't want your damn JEEP." He gestures to it as I follow his trail. It's the first car I got from my first paycheck. I've spent so much time and effort to fix it up, and it rolls smoothly. I place my hand on my heart as if I'm hurt. "You just insulted my baby."
"Stop with this baby nonsense of objects. Get a real fucking baby," Jeremy says. The sun is setting down leaving a mix of orange and yellow as a background. Lucian leans on his motorcycle, his helmet in his hand.
"Get a real fucking baby," Lucian repeats with a smug.
"I can get any girl you want," I challenge.
"No," Jeremy cuts me off as if already reading Lucian's thoughts. "She's not any girl."
"That girl has some serious issues. She might be hot but damn if she isn't stubborn as hell. I can't recall any dude getting her on top," Lucian continues.
"I bet she's still a virgin," Jeremy smirks.
"Who the fuck is still a virgin in college?" I ask. "This is the twenty first century. Get on with it already."
"Is that what I'm hearing? A bet?" Jeremy finishes his orange juice and places the cup on the concrete floor of the driveway.
"If you get in her pants," Lucian smirks, "you get my baby."
I cross my arms, ready for a challenge. Whoever that girl is, she has no idea what's going to hit her. "Who is she?"
They both exchange glances as Jeremy finally spits out her name. "Lesley fucking Parker."
I blink. I wasn't expecting that. "Hell no." She's innocent and I'm not about to fuck up her world for a damn bet.
"So?" Lucian raises his eyebrows. "You don't want my baby, anymore? Or are you too much of a pussy to take it?"
"Oh, fuck off." I run a hand through my hair. I don't know what gets in me in the next seconds as I agree. "Fine. Deal."
"You have a month," Jeremy winks at me.
"She's too fucking uptight for a month," I argue.
"A month and a half, and that's final. Are you in or out?" Lucian stands straight as he walks toward me, challenge written all over his face. I don't like to lose and neither does he.
"I got to warn you," Jeremy jumps in, "I've seen this scenario several times, and it doesn't end pretty for you."
I smile. "Lesley fucking Parker."
I almost burn my hand with the pan as I carry it to the sink. Smoke rises and there's definetly something burning in that pasta sauce. I throw the towel around my shoulder away.
"Lesley fucking Parker," I yell to the void.
My phone vibrates on the table. Megan's name flashes and I inhale, preparing for an ongoing speech about love and bullshit- absolute bullshit. "Yup?" I answer.
"Are you going to get her? It's been too long," she nags for the hundreth time.
"I'm pretty sure she's fucking fine without me. She was the one who decided to fucking leave." I bite down on my tongue.
"Fucking stop fucking cursing," she says. I exhale as I rub my eyes in return. I'm exhausted. I can't remember the last time I slept still. She's always in my dreams, my thoughts and everyday work.
"You know rage is a medicine to cure the hurt, that you're not allowing to be consumed in."
"As much as I hate to admit this, you're right. But it's not her first time that she leaves. She can't expect me to follow her everywhere."
"But wasn't that what the ring you gave her meant?" She argues.
"The ring she handed me back."
"Fine. Let me ask you this. How many times have you broken her heart?" She asks. The bet. The girls. The lies. Her father. My hands reach a fag and a lighter immediately. "Stop, Meg."
"I'm pretty sure you counted them in that damaged head of yours. You probably answered your own question, Adam."
I lean forward on the kitchen counter and take a long drag. "I probably hate you for being right this whole damn time." This pain in my chest is so familiar that it wouldn't matter if it healed. "Where is she?" I exhale.
I can already see a smug on her face. "North Hill. She haven't been talking to any of us so Kyan's address is the only thing I have of her now. I'll text you it."
I bite down on my lip as my chest starts rising. "She's been at fucking Kyan's this whole time?" I ask, rage running through my veins.
"She has a job at Ernest and Ernie Publishing. What do you expect from her, to leave it?" She states out.
"Just send me the fucking address," I say and hang up. I practically sprint and grab my jacket, keys and my book. She's been at fucking Kyan's this whole time? I repeat the question over and over in my head until I step on it, speeding to North Hill. I trust her but not him. If I give her shit about it, it isn't usually because of her, but due to the fact that I know what his true intentions are.
And my assumptions are clarified as I watch Lesley standing there in the entrance of Kyan's house, with his baggy clothes touching her flawless skin and a handcuff around her wrist. The handcuff that Kyan has around his as well. My world almost stops and so does my heart as hundred of scenarios run through my head.
Walk. I order my head. It's moving too fast. I can tell she understands the situation and can hear my heart shattering to piece because a tear streams down her cheek. I want to touch her smooth and warm cheek, wiping it away. To hold her. Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.
Kyan's hand reaches slowly and wipes her cheek. If my heart hasn't dropped yet, it surely has now. I feel so empty. So empty. I clench my fist beside me and it hits Kyan's jaw right away. He drops to the floor and I jump on top, slamming and hitting repeatedly anywhere that my fist lands at. Lesley's sweet voice is yelling at me from behind. The voice of an angel with a heart of a demon. I've missed it so much.
My image is blurry due to my heavy tears falling off and merging with the blood stain on my knuckles. I can't stop the rage as they keep on coming. After each hit, I want another and another, thriving with thirst. But then my body starts shaking and I get up, not daring to look at Lesley. She falls beside Kyan as she makes sure he's alright. She used to be mine. She used to be... A lump forms in my throat, chocking me. I rub my palm over my throat, trying to reduce the pain. It's not going away. Why isn't it going away? She was the queen of my heart, but I'm the joker now and he's the king.
"She's all yours," I tell Kyan as I start stepping back. She mets my eyes and I melt. The pain is unbearable with the way she's looking at me. I remember that I'm clenching my song writing book in my hand, the leather skin leaving an imprint of my palm of how hard I held it. I throw it to the side as it glides down the floor. Her eyes follow it.
That's what I get for fucking trying.