Sleeping with a bully ov.., p.85
Sleeping with a Bully (Overachieving Only Wanted to be Happy), page 85
Skull looked startled. "She said that?"
Leon's face turned dark and ominous at the reminder and John snickered nervously. Leon didn't like the way John basically forced himself on the couple and how he scared Sophia for a moment. He especially didn't like how John ogled at his girlfriend for just smiling.
John stood up and backed away from Leon when he remembered his best friend had talked about getting even with him. And he did not want to sport a black eye today. "Right, I'm leaving. Wish me luck," he ended with a wink.
With a grumpy expression, Leon grunted and bent his neck to Skull's papers. Skull watched him leave and curiously, he didn't look happy with him. John gave him a smirk before closing the door behind him.
Then he began praying that he'd keep his shit together during his confession to Terry.
Chapter 21
Confessions
Four years ago, John and Terry at age twelve
"Do it now, son."
His mother's grip tightened around his shoulder but John didn't feel the pain. There was pain but it came from his chest, suffocating him, knowing that what he was going to do, what she was making him do will make him lose the only girl he cared about.
John watched Terry with his mother from the corner of the ballroom. She was opening gifts, surrounded by children her age his father had rounded up to show the pretense that she had friends. The birthday was smiling, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, and her gaze kept moving around, searching.
For him.
"You're not moving," his mother's icy voice came to him. "So you choose her?"
He shook his head.
He didn't know.
He wasn't sure.
Why did he have to choose?
Why did she have to make him choose?
"Then you won't see Leon again."
His body froze.
"You won't be able to help him."
His hands clenched.
"He'll be suffering. Alone."
Leon's bruised face flitted through John's mind, along with the image of his battered body lying on the small hospital bed. A bleak expression had now replaced the cheeriness he had always seen on his best friend's face and his sparkling eyes turned weary and guarded, eyes that had seen too much pain and misery.
He couldn't leave his best friend alone.
Leon needed him.
"It's her birthday," John whispered pleadingly to his mother and how he hated resorting to begging.
But his mother was unmoved. For reasons he didn't know and for reasons she wouldn't tell, she prompted him mercilessly to do it.
To break Terry's heart.
And his.
"It's now or never, son."
John closed his eyes.
And breathed deep.
When he opened them, they were filled with so much rage and hatred.
"I'll always hate you for this," he told her in a low, venomous tone.
His mother said nothing. She simply stared.
He knew she was still watching when he approached Terry, the first time he did that night as he kept ignoring Terry's attempts to talk to him.
He knew she was still watching when he spat out cruel words and ended their friendship while Terry struggled not to cry before she finally ran away.
He knew she was still watching while he restrained himself from going after her, to beg her forgiveness and tell her he was so, so sorry.
But, like always, she did nothing but watch as her son's whole world collapsed around him.
~*****~
It's was past 6 in the evening.
Terry was making him wait.
Or rather, she obviously wasn't coming.
And her not showing up felt just as crippling as that time he hurt her when they were children.
John sucked in a rush of cool air and put his hands on the railing. The view from the greenery from the top of Steele Towers was magnificent, the city lights beautiful and mesmerizing, but he couldn't fully well appreciate it when all he could think of was being stood up by the only girl he cared about.
Most of him believed she would show up. That part of him held hope she would.
And her choice not to see him, not to hear him out broke his fucking heart.
He turned to leave the greenery, to take the elevator, to go home or get fucking wasted.
This was the end.
He was never going to try again because she would never give him a chance.
And it broke his heart.
Yet she was there, standing by the glass doors.
The sight of her relieved John so much he closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh.
He opened them again and looked at her. The wind blew strands of hair across her face as she looked at him across the expanse of the greenery. They both stood still for several long seconds and for a moment he thought she was going to turn around and leave.
Instead, she walked towards him, pulling the beret off her head, fingers plunging into her shining hair at the forehead and pulling it back. Distracted, he watched her hair settle to frame her extraordinary face perfectly.
Then he noticed she was wearing a dress.
Actually, she was wearing a black jacket over the blue dress she was wearing but still, his body reacted at the sight.
Okay, John, chill, he frantically thought. You may be a horny teenager but you're not that horny. You need to talk to her before you try to lay your hands on her.
He called out and tried to grasp all the things he had learned as a child.
Self-control.
Discipline.
Strength of mind and will.
But fuck.
Why did she have to wear a dress again?
Her mouth was moving. She was talking to him.
And yet his eyes couldn't help but go back to her legs.
"Are you listening to me, Steele?" her voice finally penetrated his senses.
John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... just give me a moment," he muttered.
"Has the cold addled your mind?" She sounded pissed and he opened his eyes to look at her. "You shouldn't have stayed out here for long—."
"I'm just distracted," he interrupted her tirade.
She cocked her head to the side. "Distracted?"
By your legs, he thought.
"Want me to bring you back to earth with a slap?" she continued to ask when he didn't reply.
He chuckled. "Nah, I'll be fine."
Because you're finally here.
~*****~
Wear a dress, indeed.
I shouldn't have listened to Iris. It was cold and breezy on the greenery and the short skirt of the blue collared dress I was wearing was swaying to the wind, revealing my bare legs. Thank heavens I thought of wearing a jacket.
I thought it would be difficult to get inside the Steele Towers as I didn't have an appointment.
And considering how late I was, I thought that maybe John had gotten tired of waiting and had already left.
But there was a man waiting for me in the entrance, the same man who took me home after that night with John in his mansion. Wordlessly, he led me to the private elevator and pressed the button of the top floor. Then he stepped back and gave me a short bow.
As soon as the elevator moved, I forgot about the man immediately. Butterflies flew around my stomach, making me sick, and I had to take a couple of deep breaths to calm my nerves. The elevator opened to a lushly carpeted hall and I stepped out. I knew the way to the greenery so I began walking to its direction. A fond smile touched my lips when I remembered how we used to play there and watch the moon rise up the night sky. It was getting dark so I knew the moon had already risen, and the thought helped me calm a bit.
John had his back to me when I arrived in the greenery. The slump of his shoulders read defeat, like he'd already given up on me coming, but when he saw me, my heart squeezed to see the relief and happiness light up in his eyes.
"I didn't mean to be late," I told him in an apologetic tone, now that I was sure I finally had his whole attention. "I had a prior appointment that I couldn't reschedule."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you came."
A cold breeze wafted across the greenery and I shivered. "Can we take this conversation someplace else? It's cold here."
He cocked his head to the side and grinned. "I can warm you up."
I threw him a dirty look. "Don't even think about it, Steele."
He sighed but did like I asked. He led me to the room beside the greenery, a glass-walled luxurious lounge with a plush velvet sofa and chairs, a billiards table and bar. Seeing the billiards table made me wistful. He had taught me how to play when we were children and until the abrupt end of our friendship I could never manage to win against him.
"Do you remember?" John suddenly spoke and I looked at him. He was leaning a hip against the edge of the table, staring at the ivory balls. "You were so angry that you lost you almost poked a hole through me with your stick."
My eyes narrowed. "If memory serves, you antagonized me first."
He chuckled. "It's not my fault you're such a sore loser, Evans."
"You called my eyes chinky and asked me if I could even aim well with my eyes, you racist bastard."
He threw his head back, laughing, and I felt my temper prickle. My eyes weren't even that chinky but he loved teasing me about them. I turned before I could do something I won't regret, removed my jacket and went to sit down in the center of the velvet sofa so John couldn't sit beside me. When I crossed my legs, I noticed him staring at them. I cleared my throat and he glanced at me. With an unashamed grin, he took the chair adjacent to me.
"You may begin," I told him.
He blinked. "Begin what?"
"Honestly, Steele, do you have some brain problem I don't know about? You always seem to lose your head."
He smiled over the irritation in my voice. "I like looking at you."
I threw him a disgruntled look. "I'm leaving if you won't start making sense again."
"I'm sorry," John said as he laughed. "Everytime I see you, I promise myself I'll get a normal conversation out of you, but then I either get distracted or you try to push me off center—"
"I can't push you anywhere," I interrupted with a dainty shrug. "You're too big."
He tipped his head and said, "I rest my case."
I let out an exasperated sigh. He stared at me for a long, silent moment. Then he stood up and before I knew what he was going to do, he'd join me on the sofa and sat on the edge of my skirt. Gritting my teeth, I yanked the material out from under his thigh.
"You... you stay where you are," I demanded as I moved farther away from him. "Don't touch me. When you touch me I... I can't think. Just... just stay there."
He didn't listen.
He reached for me and pulled me into his arms.
I went completely still the second he touched me.
When I came out of her stupor, I shoved against him.
"How the heck can we hold a conversation if you're always holding me like this?" I grumbled at him.
"Evans, if you continue to glare at me so prettily, I swear I'm going to kiss you."
I gasped. "You arrogant, overbearing jerk..."
"You're sputtering, babe."
"Don't call me babe!"
John sighed. "Are we always going to be like this?"
"There's no we. Now let me go if you want to continue this conversation."
"Bear with me, Terry," he whispered. "I need a little more time to gather my thoughts. This is difficult for me because what I'm going to confess aren't only my secrets. They're not easy to say."
I'd stop struggling when he called me by my first name. My heart fell to my stomach when the sadness in his voice got through me. Some of my anger eased away. I stared at him while he made that admission. He stared back at me. The torment I saw in his eyes made my chest ache and the urge to offer my comfort very nearly overwhelmed me.
"Alright," I found myself whispering. "Take your time. I'll wait."
~*****~
John was literally at a loss for words for two reasons.
First was because of her easy acceptance.
Second was because he didn't how to fucking start.
Still, he needed to be honest with her. He'd had almost five years without her and it felt like five thousand fucking years. He was damned if he'd let her go again.
This honesty was going to come with a price but he was willing to pay it.
He took a deep breath, exhaled and spoke before he lost his courage, "It's because of him."
Terry's brows drew together. "What?"
He took another breath before answering, "It's because of Leon."
Her eyes widened.
Then they narrowed as she spoke in a dangerous tone. "What do you mean it was because of Gage? That night at my birthday party, are you telling me you cut me off from your life because of him? You haven't even met him—"
He didn't let her finish. "Remember the boy I used to tell you about? My best friend from back home?"
"Your little friend who refused to meet me?" She looked stunned. "He's that friend?"
"Yes. It was him."
"But whenever you mentioned his name to me, you called him Nicky."
"His middle name's Nicholas. And I thought it was funny to see you jealous because you thought he was a girl," he admitted which earned him a slap on the shoulder. "When I finally confessed to you he was a boy you made me stop mentioning him at all," he rushed on to say in defense.
"Your precious Nicky also refused to meet me when I asked you to introduce me to him," she hissed.
"I told you. I tried. But he's shy to strangers. Especially to girls."
Her eyes flashed and she pushed him off her. "Explain, Steele. Explain what you meant about him being the reason."
With a long sigh, John leaned against the cushions.
"His father left their home when he was 8 years old," he quietly began. She gasped and he closed his eyes tight. The memory was painful still, the telling even more and he needed to get them out before he changed his mind. "And his mother died when he was 9. She was beaten and violated before she was killed."
"Oh, God," he heard her whisper shakily.
"He was hiding in a closet, Terry. He heard everything. Everything. And he found her body. Told me she bled all over him and that he actually felt his mother's life draining out, leaking all over him."
He felt her hand rest on top of his, squeezing, and he gritted his teeth.
This wasn't his story to tell.
It was Leon's.
And doing so made him feel like he betrayed his best friend.
But her gentle touch, the small, comforting circles her thumb was making on his fingers made the guilt he was feeling hurt a little less.
John kept speaking. "Then more shit happened to him. Shit I can't tell you about. I'm sorry. I just can't. Just know that it was bad. And I hate that it happened to him. I fucking hate that all of that shit happened to him."
He opened his eyes and they locked on her. Tears had gathered in her eyes, her body was trembling, but she still managed not to lose the battle with her emotion and it spoke volumes of her.
That was his girl.
Strong.
And seeing her quiet strength helped him gather the courage to tell her more of the truth he withheld so long.
"Do you remember? I told you about him. How he was smart, smarter than me even. How he was easily excited by everything, how he always smiled and laughed. How it sometimes annoyed me that no matter how much I was a brat to him he always forgave me, always made me smile and laugh. How perfect his family was and how I wished I was his brother because I loved him and his parents so much."
"Of course, I remembered," she softly replied. "I remember everything you tell me."
"Well fucking look at him now," he darkly muttered. "He doesn't smile. Doesn't laugh. Doesn't even talk much. Until Sophia came to his life, he barely got up from bed and didn't give a crap about anything. He's empty, like a guy who lives just because he's alive. He blames himself for the death of his mother because he thinks he could have helped her. Saved her."
"And his father? Did he come back?"
John's eyes slid over her shoulder and he looked out to the glass wall into the greenery. "Oh, yes he did. But it was too fucking late. Leon wouldn't even look at him. He hated his guts. I'd started living here when... when more of the bad shit happened to him and I was the only person Leon would let close so his father bought a house for Leon to live here."
"Then what did that got to do with us?" Terry's voice was almost a whisper. "What did he have to do with us?"
He lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut. She was thinking she wanted to know the truth when in fact, she really didn't.
"Just tell me."
Her voice was shaky. She knew what it was about to do her but still she wanted to know.
His voice got low and tight. "Mother made me choose. She told me if I stop being friends with you she'd let me stay friends with Leon. You know how she's all about reputations and what happened to Leon was totally fucked up. She said she'd let me take care of him, let me see him and help him."
Terry sounded defeated and overwhelmed as she said, "So you chose him."
He opened his eyes when she let his hand go. He grew scared, her expression had turned detached and he took her face into his hands.
"I don't know why my mother drove me up the wall. I didn't want to lose you. But I had no choice. If I was older, I'd have told her to fuck off, that I'd do what I wanted to do but I couldn't at that time. I couldn't. "
She didn't speak, just shook her head. She pulled his hands off her skin and stood up. Numb, he watched her turn and walked towards the glass wall, holding her elbows tight.
"I was a kid, Terry," he blurted out in desperation. "I didn't know what else to do. Leon needed me. He needed me and I couldn't abandon him. I'm all he has. So I... I made that choice. I'm sorry. He needed me."
She still didn't speak.
And her silence felt like a knife twisting in his gut.
~*****~
I needed you too.
I wanted to tell him those words.
