Wreck My World Page 3

  I look over to see Roman is too busy to notice, so I rush after her, giving the door a hard shove on the way out.

  She stops and turns around when she hears my boots crunching in the gravel behind her. The cold look in her eyes is almost enough to freeze my damn heart. “Don’t you dare follow me, Easton. Turn back around and go inside.” With pained eyes, she points at the building and screams. “GO!”

  After yelling at me, she immediately turns back around and starts walking again to get away from me.

  Ignoring her demand, I stalk toward her, wrapping my arm around her waist right as she attempts to straddle her motorcycle.

  “You’re not driving home,” I say, while squeezing her waist and pulling her against me. “I get that you want fast right now. That you need a rush to clear your head. Trust me, I know you. I’m the one that got you addicted, but you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “You don’t need to worry about what I do,” she growls out in anger, before elbowing me in the stomach in an effort to get away. “Dammit! Let me go. I need to leave. I can’t be here.”

  She’s still trying to fight me, so I carefully lower her to the gravel and trap her under my body, pinning one of her legs underneath mine. “Give me your keys,” I growl, an inch away from her lips. “Don’t make me force them out of your hand. I can pin you under my body all night if I fucking have to, Kota.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think my brother would like that much.” She attempts to buck me off with her hips, but it does nothing.

  I smirk down at her and push my hips closer against her body. “Fight me all you want. I’ll win.”

  “Fuck you, Easton!” Breathing heavily, she lays still and fights to control her breathing from below me. After a few seconds, her eyes meet mine, and she grins. “Fetch.” She tosses her keys across the parking lot and then pushes my chest, speaking against my lips. “Now. Get. Off.”

  I release a hard breath and take a moment to analyze her face. It feels like forever since I’ve seen it.

  Her big, gray eyes are framed by long lashes and her dainty, freckled nose is now pierced and flaring out in anger.

  Catching me off guard, she pushes her way out from under me and closes her eyes as she runs her hands over her face and lays back. “Just leave me be. I don’t want to be anywhere near you. I’ll have Hope take me home.”

  “You really mean that?” I question with a tight jaw. “You still hate me after three damn years?”

  “How can I not?” she bites out, before jumping to her feet, ignoring my hand as I reach it out to help her. “You tore my heart out. Now get out of my way.”

  I bite my lip, holding in my anger as she pushes past me and disappears inside.

  I’m still standing out here with my hands in my hair when she walks back out a few minutes later following Hope to her old, beat-up truck.

  My heart pounds relentlessly as I watch them hop inside and drive away.

  You tore my heart out.

  Those five words hurt like hell. She’s always been good at making me feel.

  Growling out in frustration, I search for her keys and slip them into my pocket, before walking back inside, grabbing my jacket, and then walking back out.

  Luckily, no one noticed or else I’d have people on my ass, trying to get me to stay. I can’t be here right now. I need to be alone, so I can drown out the noise in my head.

  I walk for a good thirty minutes, fighting my thoughts, before I make it to the hotel I showed up at a week ago.

  As soon as I get inside, I reach into my bag, pop a few pills, and swallow them back with a swig of whiskey.

  The first swig is followed by a few more, then a whole lot more, until finally, I can’t think anymore in the darkness of this nearly empty room.

  Everything finally turns to black.

  Dakota

  EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO…

  Quinn laughs and reaches for the same crayon as me, getting to it before I can. It’s soooo annoying. “Ha! Beat you.” She sticks out her tongue, so I make a mean face at her to show her that I’m mad.

  It’s not fair, because she’s bigger and faster than me. One day when I’m bigger, I’ll beat her. “Hurry up then, Quinn. I need it too.”

  She blows her long, blonde hair out of her eyes and begins coloring with my purple crayon. “You should’ve been faster then, Dakota.”

  Mommy walks into the kitchen a few minutes later with a dark-haired little boy following at her side. We both stop coloring to see why he’s here. He looks sad, as if he doesn’t want to be here. His shoulders are slumped and his face hangs low. I don’t like it. I hate when we must do things we don’t want to.

  “Girls.” Mommy beams. “This is your brother’s new friend from school. His name is Easton Crews. He’s going to start coming over after school for a few hours while his parents are at work.” She turns to me and gives me the look. “Dakota—be nice to him. I mean it.”

  I don’t know why she always tells me that. I don’t do anything little boys don’t do, and Roman never gets in trouble.

  “Dakota,” she repeats. “You hear me, young lady?”

  I look up from my coloring book and smile, even though I don’t feel happy. “I do, Mommy. I’ll be nice.”

  Easton walks away from my mother’s side and pulls out the empty chair next to Quinn. The chair next to me has the basket of paper footballs I made before coloring, but I couldn’t get Quinn to play with me. “Can I have a page to color?” he asks us, quietly.

  Quinn straightens in her chair and smiles the prettiest smile ever at him. It makes everyone like her, so he’ll probably end up being her friend too, and then I’ll be left out like always. “You can have one of mine. Here.” She scoots the coloring book in front of him. “Pick a page. I’ll let you rip it out, so you can color easier.”

  “Thank you, Quinn.” Mommy must be satisfied, because she walks out of the room and starts calling Roman’s name to let him know his friend is here.

  I should be coloring, but I’m watching Easton pick out a page from Quinn’s book. He looks so sad, still, as he turns the pages. It doesn’t seem like he wants to color. I want to make him laugh. It always makes me happy when I’m sad. Maybe it will for him too.

  Grabbing two of the biggest crayons we have left, I shove them up my nose and make faces across the table at my sister and Easton.

  “Oh gross!” Quinn yells, while pointing the purple crayon at me. “Mom! She’s doing it again. Make her stop.”

  Easton looks up from ripping out a page in the book and laughs as soon as I shoot one of the crayons across the table.

  “Nice shot,” he says, smiling big.

  Quinn stands up and starts piling all the crayons up in front of her. “That’s rude. Stop acting like a baby. Mom told you not to do that.”

  “But I wanted to.” I place my finger to my nostril and shoot the other crayon her way and laugh when it hits her arm.

  Easton laughs too. His laugh is funny. I like the way it sounds. It only makes me laugh more.

  Mommy releases a breath and walks over to help Quinn gather the crayons. She always takes her side. “What did I tell you about shooting crayons out of your nose?” She looks at me, waiting for me to say something. “I’m waiting for an answer, young lady.”

  I roll my eyes and grab the one crayon I have left and begin coloring again. It’s an ugly brown color. Eww. “You said not to do it.”

  “Right. So, don’t make me tell you again. You’ll get more colors to use once you apologize to your sister and Easton.”

  “It’s okay.” My mommy looks over when Easton speaks up. “She was only trying to be funny. I liked it.”

  My mommy smiles, as if seeing him smile has changed her mind. Maybe she noticed how sad he was too. “I suppose you found it to be funny?”

  He nods and laughs. “Yes.”

  “Okay,” Mommy says. “You kids try to have fun then.” She turns to me. “But don’t upset your sister again. Have fun without getting on
each other’s nerves. Now you have to ask your sister for the colors you need. She’s in charge of them for the next hour.”

  Quinn rolls her eyes at me from across the table the second our mommy leaves the room. “You’re still gross. Act six. Not two.”

  When I look Easton’s way, his lips curl into a half-smile. “You’re pretty good at that.”

  I may have gotten into trouble, but I made the sad boy smile. It makes me smile too.

  Quinn scoots her chair closer to Easton’s and looks over his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “I like your picture. It’s pretty.”

  “Thanks.”

  Reaching into the basket next to me, I flick one of my paper footballs across the table at Easton.

  “No way!” He sits up straight and reaches for the paper football. “These are so cool! My turn.”

  I hold my hands up like a goal post, just how my uncle Scott taught me last week. “I’m ready.”

  He flicks the bottom of the football and misses. We take turns a few times, and he smiles and laughs even harder than he did when I shot those crayons out of my nose.

  Quinn must be bored since he’s not playing with her, because she grabs his coloring page and holds it up. He doesn’t have much colored since he stopped to play with me.

  “I think you should be my boyfriend. We both color pretty, and you’ll be here all the time now.”

  I crinkle my nose when Quinn grabs his hand and holds it. Doesn’t she know you’re not supposed to hold hands with boys? Now that’s gross.

  “Let go of my friend’s hand.” Roman rushes over to the table and pushes Quinn’s chair away from Easton’s. “He’s here for me. Not you guys.”

  “Yeah. Well, he’s my boyfriend now.” Quinn stands up and pushes her chair back toward Easton’s.

  “You’re too young for a boyfriend, Quinn. You’re seven. Leave my friend alone or I’ll tell Mom I saw you holding his hand.”

  I sit in my chair and color while my sister and brother fight over Easton. I don’t feel like fighting with them. It always makes my head hurt.

  I’m surprised when Easton places his picture in front of me and smiles. “You can have it, Kota.”

  I look up at him. “My name isn’t Kota. It’s Da-kota.”

  “I’m going to call you Kota. I like it. It sounds pretty on you.”

  Roman grabs Easton’s arm and starts pulling him away. “Let’s go to my room. My sisters are annoying.”

  “Kota,” I whisper to myself.

  Having a special name feels sort of cool. I’ve never had one before. I like it.

  Roman’s new friend hasn’t been back downstairs in a while. I’ve been waiting for him, because he seems funny and I’m bored.

  I know Mommy said he was going to be staying for a couple of hours after school, but it’s getting close to dinner time and his mommy and daddy still haven’t come for him. I wonder why.

  Sitting at the table, bored, I look up at the stairs, hoping he’ll come back down to play.

  Quinn is dragging all her Barbie stuff down into the playroom, and I know she’s going to make me play dolls with her again and take a lot of pretend pictures with her toy camera. I hate playing dolls. I don’t want to.

  They’re so boring.

  “Roman!” Mommy calls up the steps and slaps the wall to get his attention. She always does that in case we can’t hear her yelling for us. “Can you come here, please?”

  Footsteps against the stairs are loud as my brother and Easton come racing down them. I smile when Easton wins. Roman always beats us. I guess he’s not the fastest anymore.

  “Easton’s mom said she has a few things to take care of before she comes back for him. She dropped off his bike if you two want to go outside and ride until dinner.”

  My brother rolls his eyes and walks past my mommy when Easton takes off running outside. “I guess.”

  Just before my mommy walks into the kitchen, she stops and smiles when she notices me sitting at the table alone. “What are you doing sitting at the table? Your sister is setting up her dolls for a photoshoot.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. Don’t like playing dolls. I don’t want to.”

  She leans in, as if to tell me a secret. “Then hurry and get outside before she calls for you. Go on now.”

  Smiling, I rush out of my chair and outside in a hurry. I’m happy when I’m outside, but Mommy thinks I’m too young to play in the front yard by myself. I hate it.

  Quinn never wants to come out, and Roman says I’m too young to play with. All he ever wants to do is play on his skateboard.

  He rides it past me and gives me a mean look. “Watch out, Dakota. You’re in my way. Stay in the grass.”

  I huff and go sit in the grass to watch Easton ride his bike. He rides really fast down the sidewalk, smiling as if he really likes it.

  I could never go that fast. I would like to, but I’m too small and my legs aren’t as fast.

  “Hey, Kota.” Easton stops in front of me when he sees me watching him. “Do you have a bike?”

  I nod my head. “Yeah, but I’m not fast like you.”

  “That’s okay.” He smiles and drops his feet to the pavement, holding his bike up. “Want to ride on my bike? Going fast makes everything better. I promise.”

  I stand up. “But there’s only one seat.”

  “You can sit and I’ll stand up and pedal. You’ll just have to hold on to my back. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Roman is busy trying to do tricks on his skateboard, so I nod my head and smile.

  He’s bigger than I am. I’ll be safe. He’ll protect me.

  “Okay.” I climb onto his seat and grab the back of his shirt.

  “Hold on, okay?”

  I clench his shirt with both hands and hold on tight. “Okay.”

  I fly back a little when he takes off, but his shirt stops me from falling. He was right. All I have to do is hold on and he’ll keep me safe.

  Easton pedals fast, making my hair fly in the wind. We’re moving faster than I ever have before, and it’s so much more fun than playing with boring dolls.

  Every time he rides over a bump, I let out a small scream and hold his shirt tighter, making us both laugh.

  I can’t stop smiling. Easton is so much fun to play with.

  “Am I going too fast?” he yells back at me.

  I shake my head. “No. Faster!”

  Laughing, he starts pedaling so hard his body rocks back and forth. “Okay, hold on, Kota.”

  I don’t let go as he goes fast down the hill. I get a ticklish feeling in my tummy and I like it. It’s like when I’m in the car and Daddy or Mommy drives down a hill.

  The wheels turn faster, scaring me for a few seconds, but I end up liking it once we get to the bottom of the hill, so I make him do it six more times.

  Once Easton is tired of going down the hill, he stops and lets me off his bike, before getting off himself, and sets it down in the grass.

  We both sit down in the yard and watch Roman. It’s quiet, because he’s still catching his breath from going so fast, and I’m too busy smiling at the sky.

  “Here. Since you like to go fast like me.”

  Easton reaches into his pocket and pulls out a toy dirt bike. I know what it is, because Daddy has one. He likes to ride it through the dirt in the summer.

  He puts it in my hand. “You can have it. I have more at home.”

  I smile really big as I look at it. Dirt bikes are much faster than bikes. I want one someday. But someone will have to teach me how to ride it. Just like when I learned how to ride my bike. “Thank you.”

  “Come inside, kids. Dinner is ready,” My mommy yells out the door at us.

  Easton stands up and reaches for my hand. “I’ll help you up.”

  Roman rushes past us and yells, “Come on! You heard Mom.”

  I let Easton help me up, and in this moment, I know we’re going to be great friends. The bestest ones ever.

  Dakota
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  Closing my eyes, I stop and take a few deep breaths as the sweat trickles down my forehead and my heart hammers against my chest.

  After seeing Easton last night for the first time in three years, I haven’t been able to shake my thoughts of him.

  The memories of our past have consumed my every waking moment. I can’t even take a breath without thinking about him. I’m completely wrecked right now, and it reminds me that Easton has been the only one to ever make me feel so deeply for someone.

  He gives off this power that draws me straight to him, that even I can’t protect myself from. I fought it for fifteen years before he left, and now that he’s back, I’m fighting it again.

  As thankful as I am that Easton stopped me from driving home last night, the best thing I can hope for is that he’s already long gone and I won’t have to set eyes on him again.

  Having his hard body on top of mine was the last thing I could handle without giving away how I feel. Seeing him again might send me over the edge.

  “…over there? Dakota? You’re breathing really hard.”

  Through my heavy thoughts and even heavier breathing, I only managed to catch the end of what Hope said.

  The last thing I need is to have her worrying about me. She already had to deal with my temper last night when I drug her out of the bar and made her drive me home, cutting her fun short.

  She wanted to know why I was so upset, but I refused to give her any details. It’s hard to explain without giving away my heart. I can’t reveal that to anyone.

  “I’m fine.” I breathe. “Fine.” Standing up straight, I fix my ponytail and take off running again. I’m not ready to stop. Not yet.

  Hope fights to catch up with me, trailing behind, until I come to a stop at her family’s speedway about two miles down the road. Taking a few deep breaths, I grab onto the fence and look out at the track.

  This is one of the places I like to come to when I need to clear my head. Looking out at the track and imagining the noise, speed, and the chaos that comes with it usually calms my mind and takes me away from my own white noise.