Loving Lawson Page 12

  “Holy fuckin’ shit,” he groaned, pushing hard into me one last time and stilling completely. I felt his length jerk within me. He trembled as he came hard before he collapsed his head between my neck and shoulders.

  Reality rushed in, and when our breaths returned to normal, the silence filled my ears. It was painfully louder than our time together. I waited for him to do something. Maybe kiss me or cuddle against me. I wanted some reassurance that what we did was okay.

  He finally pulled away and I looked up as he stared down at me. I didn’t have to search his face to know what he was feeling. To know if what we did wasn’t a mistake.

  I saw it clear as day on his face.

  His shock.

  His pain.

  His… regret.

  Heath broke my heart in that moment.

  Heath

  I fucked up.

  Twelve

  Heath

  I got out of there faster than a bullet.

  No words were needed to be said. The fuck could I say anyway? “Sorry for fucking you”? Somehow I didn’t think that would cut it.

  Guilt was a fuck of a thing, wasn’t it? It was the perfect way to get into someone’s head and fuck up their matter. What I did… Oh, fuck.

  This was going to cost me my brother.

  And her.

  I was going to lose two of the most important people in my life because of my moment of weakness. None of this would have happened had I just fucked the bar girl and stayed away the whole night.

  I couldn’t do it, though. Living with Allie was a disaster right from the making. She made me realize I wanted things I didn’t even know I wanted. Being around her, craving her, hungering for the taste of her, it changed everything. I wanted some goddamn meaning in my life. I wanted to settle down. Wanted to have a girl as incredible as her by my side. Someone soft and real. A kind girl who looked at the ugly world and still clung to the belief there was beauty there somehow.

  How the hell was I going to fix this?

  I’d taken my keys and clothes and stormed out of the building, aiming to go as far away as possible. I acted like a complete fucking douchebag; those kinds of guys that took what they wanted and ran off into the sunset. Probably left her behind feeling like shit, and I’d have turned back just to make her feel better had I not been such a goddamn pussy.

  I drove aimlessly, lost in thought, trying to figure out a way to numb the pain because it was tormenting the shit out of me. I didn’t want to fucking think about this.

  Eventually, I returned to the bar and drank my sorrows away. I smashed shot after shot. I waited for the buzz. For my brain to start clouding. But nothing came. I felt rotten.

  “You look like shit,” a familiar voice said in my ear.

  I didn’t look at Tru as she slid in the stool beside me. I could smell the flower-scented shit I used to love on her. Now it just made me sick.

  “Need to talk about it?” she proceeded to ask.

  “No,” I answered.

  “It’s that girl, isn’t it? Ever since she showed up, you’ve changed. I see it in you. You’ve gone all soft, Heath –”

  “Look, I don’t give a fuck, alright?” I cut in, glaring at her. “Leave me alone.”

  She ignored what I said and continued. “What is it about her? Because I don’t see it. I mean, I see the way you act toward her. I see it in the way you look at her. But I can’t find it. She’s plain. She’s timid. She’s not sexy or outgoing –”

  “She’s everything you’re not,” I interrupted, giving her another cold stare.

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  I thought about her question for a moment. It didn’t really need thinking. I nodded and motioned to the bartender for another shot as I gritted out, “It’s the best fucking thing I could ever ask for.”

  She froze. She looked pained for a moment before that wicked edge of hers took over. She leaned into me, pushing her tits against my arm as she snarled, “There’s no way you guys fuck the way we did. Hmm? I let you do whatever you wanted to me. Gave you everything you asked for –”

  “Tru,” I said, letting out a hard laugh, “you were no different to the other girls I’ve taken before. There was nothing between us. I didn’t look at you when we were together. You can suck a person’s cock like a vacuum, but that don’t mean shit. You never made my pulse race. Never made my heart tighten. Never made me feel anything. So stop, okay? You’re digging and it’s all for nothing.”

  Her eyes watered, and maybe the alcohol had made me cruel because I seriously didn’t care for it. She pushed away from me and took off. Finally. I tossed back a few more shots and watched the time pass by.

  Could things return to normal? More importantly, would I let it?

  Guilt.

  Guilt.

  Guilt.

  “You’ve been served,” said another voice.

  Fuck! Did I look like I was sociable tonight? I slammed my hand down on the bar and growled out, “I’m not in the fucking mood tonight for talking. Fuck off.”

  “Yeah, well neither am I,” retorted the voice.

  I looked up and to find Ricardo. Fucker looked the same as last time.

  “What do you want?” I asked, not masking my anger. “You going to grace me with some info about my brother? Or are you going to stand around and be ominous as fuck again?”

  He smirked at me, not at all fussed by my attitude. “You’ve been served,” he repeated before setting a piece of paper beside my shot glass. “Your brother’s debt is on you. Fifty big ones.”

  “I’m hoping you mean fifty fucking dollars.”

  “I’m talking in the thousands, man.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money on me.”

  He chuckled, deliberately pushing my buttons as he replied, “You’re a fighter. Make some money. Just because I like you and it really isn’t your fault for any of this shit, your first payment is fifteen. Take it to this address next Sunday.”

  I glanced at the address and clenched my jaw. “You’re asking me to give you money I don’t have. It’s not going to happen.”

  He looked unbothered by my words. Maybe he was used to hearing them come out of the mouths of all the others whose pockets he bled dry. His cockiness told me he always got what he wanted.

  He glanced around the bar, looking calm and casual as he continued to speak to me. “Lawson, don’t be a fucking idiot like your brother. You love that little shit. I’m sure you don’t want something to happen to little bro in jail. Heard he got himself a girl too. Heard you’re especially close to that pregnant thing.” He chuckled at the way I straightened my spine and stared darkly at him. “Don’t get angry at me. I’m just the collector. My boss gives me a job, and I do that job.”

  “You’re asking me to make fifteen thousand dollars in seven days.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “How the fuck is that going to happen?”

  He didn’t look bothered. “I don’t give a shit. Rob a bank, jump a few people – fuck, I don’t care. It’s none of my business how you get it.”

  “What happens if I can’t?”

  “Like I said, we know all about your close ones. I’m not a fan of doing the dirty work. But if it comes to that, then I will. I’ll do the dirty work, and I think you know exactly what I mean when I say that.”

  My stomach churned. I fisted my hands and leaned closer to him, growling out, “If you kill me, how the fuck are you going to get your money then?”

  He smiled at my boldness. That fucking gold tooth reflected my distorted, angry face. “Blood is another form of payment, Lawson. You don’t pay it, that’s fine. Your head, along with that pretty girl you’ve been looking after’s head are on the chopping block, and we don’t care. In fact, that’ll just send a statement to the rest of the fucking morons that want to do business with us. So it’s best you just pay up. Like I said, Sunday noon. Be there with the money.”

  He patted my back like we were the best of pals
and walked off.

  I stared down at the piece of paper, half-tempted to tear it to pieces. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any worse, the skies opened and rained hell down upon me.

  For the first time in a very long time, I felt completely and utterly defeated.

  Thirteen

  Allie

  Everything changed.

  I woke up and Heath wasn’t there. In fact, he was gone all weekend. I spent two nights on my own, alone, in an apartment that was now tainted by what we had done. I barely slept. Barely ate. Barely did anything at all but lay down and watch mindless television.

  Sometime in the early hours of Monday morning, he had returned. I heard loud noises coming from his bedroom. Already having stayed up most of the night, I went to check on him, tip toeing on my way in case he heard me. He was standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, lifting weights.

  He was unsteady, and when I was hit with the thick smell of alcohol, I knew why. He was cursing under his breath, made it to six reps before he angrily threw the weights down. I jumped and took a large step back, surprised the weights hadn’t fallen straight through the floor.

  Panting, he ran both hands through his scalp and a pained sound erupted from his throat. He shook his head repeatedly, stumbling as he stepped over the weights. His body slammed into his dresser, and he gripped the edges of it, trembling and taking large gulps of air. My heart broke. I’d never seen him like this. I knew he’d spent two days torturing himself with guilt. I felt responsible. I’d begged him to be with me.

  This was my fault.

  I stepped in slowly, widening the door. He heard the creaky sounds of my footsteps and turned his head to look at me. His dark eyes were bloodshot and glazed. His skin wasn’t its usual tanned glow but pale and sickly looking. In just two days he looked like he’d lost ten pounds, but I knew that wasn’t possible. This was the look of misery.

  My heart picked up as I whispered, “Heath.”

  His eyes lapped me from head to toe, and when they lingered around my stomach, I tensed. He was staring at my bump, paling even more.

  “Go,” he said, his voice sounding thick and scratchy.

  “I can’t leave you like this,” I replied, trying my hardest not to cry. God, things were fucked.

  “Go.”

  “Heath –”

  “I don’t want to see you, Allie. Just go.”

  My heart clenched and I swallowed hard, quietly saying, “I just want to help you, Heath.”

  That expression turned cold. I saw something like disgust in him when he sneered at me. “Help me? Don’t you think you did enough?”

  I looked away from his frosty glare and stared at a random spot on the wall. I was breaking all over. “I… I don’t know what to say about what happened between us –”

  “I’m not asking you to say anything. I’m telling you to go.”

  I didn’t want to, but when he turned away and didn’t even acknowledge me, I knew it was pointless staying. I left the bedroom, and only a moment passed before he loudly slammed it shut. I sat on my bed for a while, feeling more alone than ever, wondering how on earth my life became this… complicated. I helplessly stared around the room, as if the walls might offer me answers. I wanted desperately to feel sorry for myself. To curl up in a ball and cry my heart out. To have someone run their hand up and down my back, telling me it would be okay.

  But I had no one. Just a loner, like always, with the difference being I was tired of it. So I shoved all the emotions down my throat and locked them away. Then I got up and started getting ready for school early. I gathered my stuff and went to the bathroom. I locked myself inside and had a long shower, sitting down in the tub with my back against the spray.

  I heard movements. Of him leaving the bedroom and stomping down the hallway. He seemed to be moving around a lot by the time I got up and turned the water off. I stepped out and quickly changed, holding my breath in between my movements to listen in on what he was doing. I didn’t want to cross him on my way out. The tension between us had risen to a boiling point, and I was petrified of a confrontation if it involved curses and angry words.

  I threw my wet hair up and gathered my backpack when I heard a crash coming from one of the rooms. I froze and listened in on Heath’s curses and grunts as more chaotic sounds erupted.

  What the hell?

  I opened the bathroom door and tentatively walked out. Another crash sounded and I followed it to my room where I found him, standing in the centre with a steel bat in hand. He was swinging at the headboard of the bed repeatedly until it splintered and broke. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him destroy whatever he could, taking down the dresser after he’d annihilated the bed, and tearing down the posters.

  I was taken aback by how violent he looked. He was still dead tired, looked like a damn phantom gone wild in nothing but his boxers. His sweaty skin spoke of how hard he’d been at it. I stopped at the threshold and looked at every inch of the room, distraught to find countless items of Ryker’s destroyed and littering the floor.

  In just twenty minutes since I’d been out of the room he had completely obliterated it.

  “What are you doing?” I let out in a panic.

  He stopped abruptly and turned to me. He was surprised to see me there. His red eyes widened and his hand clutching the bat suddenly dropped to his side.

  “What are you doing?” I repeated, hysterically.

  His face may have softened at the sight of me, but those eyes were harder than ever. “What’s it look like?” he retorted in between his panting.

  “You’ve completely destroyed Ryker’s room, Heath!”

  “No shit.”

  “Why? Because of what happened between us?” When he didn’t respond, I demanded loudly, “Tell me why!”

  “Because I fucked you on his bed!” he shouted, pointing the bat in the direction of the bed. “And that’s where he took you time and time again. Do you know how fucked up that is, Allie?”

  “Do you know how fucked up it is that you’re breaking everything as a result?!”

  “Because that selfish bastard doesn’t deserve this shit!” He threw the bat at the lamp on the night table, shattering it instantly.

  My heart rate skyrocketed. “What has gotten into you?”

  Taking a step forward, he stared at me wildly and screamed, “You! You’ve gotten into me! Into every part of me! I can’t fucking think of anything but you! You’ve fucking wrecked me, Allie! And I hate you for it. I hate you for loving him instead! I hate you for doing what you did because of how angry you are at him, because of how much you’re trying to deny your love for him–”

  “I didn’t kiss you, or ask you to touch me because I wanted to deny my love for Ryker,” I cut in, shocked that he’d think this way. “That’s stupid, Heath. I wanted to touch you for the same reasons you wanted to touch me.”

  “But you’re his.”

  “I’m not anybody’s!”

  He shook his head and turned away from me, kicking at a random pile of junk on the floor. He ran both hands through his hair as he looked on with an empty expression.

  “He doesn’t deserve you,” he said quietly, “but he loves you so fucking much. He’s desperate. And I just ruined everything. Fell for his girl. Pregnant with his baby, and still I fell for her hard. And then I fucked her.”

  My throat closed and fresh tears fell from my eyes.

  “I betrayed him. He trusted me and I… fucking laughed at him behind his back.”

  “You forget how much he laughed behind ours.”

  He turned his head at me and glared. “So what then? Are we meant to sink to his level? Look what we just did to him, Allie!”

  “What about what he did to me?” I retorted, raising my voice as I went on. “Or you? He decided to mess everything up by selling crack on the side! Why should we be considerate of his feelings when he didn’t give a FUCK about ours?!”

  “Because that’s wha
t separates us from people like him!”

  I didn’t reply for a moment. I stared at him hard and shook my head. “No, Heath. When someone throws people like us away over their own selfish wants, that doesn’t mean we should keep treating them as if they hadn’t. Ryker doesn’t deserve to be put on a pedestal. No amount of him missing me or loving me will change that. I decided a long time ago I was through with him –”

  “Then why didn’t you say anything?” he cut in. “I asked you how many times if you were waiting for him and you said nothing. You had every day to go down there and tell him you were done.”

  “I broke up with him a long time ago –”

  “You reacted emotionally. He doesn’t think you meant it.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Then tell him that!”

  I cringed. “You want me to go and tell a desperate man in a shithole that what he’s holding onto isn’t waiting for him on the other side?” More tears fell as I felt the anger in my voice rise. “You and I know it’s easier said than done!”

  “And it’ll only get harder the more time passes. On him and you.”

  I turned away from him. I wasn’t ready to confront Ryker. There was still too much anger and raw hate there. There was no point in arguing like this. I knew it was going to get nowhere.

  I picked up my backpack off the floor and quietly said, “What happened between us was something I wanted. It had nothing to do with your brother. You weren’t a distraction, Heath.”

  “He needs to know.”

  I said nothing.

  “Allie,” he pressed, “do it. Tell him you’re done. He doesn’t deserve you. He’s a fuck-up. He… He’s done a lot.”

  “I know that.”

  “No, you don’t. I haven’t told you everything.”

  Frowning, I looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  He swallowed hard and took a seat on the edge of the bed amidst the pile of junk scattered around him. He set his elbows on each knee and kept his gaze fixed on a spot on the wall. My unease crept up at his troubled demeanour.