I glanced over at the doorway to Puck’s building, wondering if he was home.
I owed him an apology.
He’d been a dick, no question. But calling him a rapist went too far because it flat-out wasn’t true. He’d had no idea what was really happening that strange, life-changing night. He thought I was some girl he met at a party, some normal girl who wanted to sleep with him and I’d encouraged that impression. When he’d figured it out, he did the right thing even though leaving me would’ve been a thousand times easier.
He’d called me a bitch last night, and he’d been right.
Now I needed to act like an adult and own what I’d done. Would my temper ever stop getting me into trouble?
Walking down the alley, I felt caught between conflicting emotions. I hoped he’d be there so I could say I was sorry and get it over with. I also hoped he wouldn’t answer the door, because facing him was going to suck and I didn’t want to do it. What happened next was completely anticlimactic. I reached for the stairwell door only to find it locked. No buzzer, no intercom, no way of signaling someone upstairs that they had company. I looked around for his bike but couldn’t see it anywhere. Wherever Puck was, I had no way of contacting him.
Okay, then. So much for that plan.
Trudging back to the car, everything swirled through my head as I tried to figure it out. So many things fucked up in my life, but at least there was one problem I knew how to fix.
Every pair of jeans I owned was dirty.
So were my panties, sheets, bras, and everything else. I got in my car and drove over to Danielle’s place for our weekly manicure/laundry party because no matter how shitty life gets, you still have to wash your clothes.
—
“I got this new pink polish yesterday afternoon,” Danielle announced when we finally got settled at her table, looking pleased with herself. My whites hummed in the background, her washing machine whirling and swirling from a closet in the hall. “Think I might color my hair to match. Yay or nay?”
“What?” I asked, trying to focus. My whole world had changed, yet here we were, talking about nail colors.
So weird.
“The pink?” she prompted. I blinked, collecting myself.
“Oh, it’s cute,” I told her. “Sorry, I had a strange morning.”
“How’s that?”
I took a deep breath, wondering where to begin.
“So, my mom called last night. She says Teeny lost his shit. She asked me for money to leave him.”
Danielle’s eyes widened as she set down the nail polish. She didn’t know the full story about my life back in California, but she knew enough to realize this was a Big Fucking Deal.
“Seriously? After all this time she’s actually considering it for real?” she whispered. “What did you tell her about the money?”
I shrugged. “I told her no. She wants two grand and I don’t have it. Then she said I was a horrible daughter and if he kills her, it’s my fault.”
“What. The. Fuck.” Danielle said, her face turning fierce.
“Puck said she’s just trying to get money out of me. He’s probably right—she’s always trying to get money out of me.”
“Wait.” She held up a hand. “Rewind that thought. Why is Puck part of this story? Oh my God, was he at your place?”
Puck. Last night came flooding back to me and I shivered. I’d been trying very hard not to think about him or the apology I still owed him. God, why did it all have to happen at once? My past was crashing down around me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t catch my breath.
“That’s a loaded question. It’s complicated,” I told her, closing my eyes. Complicated? Now that was a fucking understatement. “I did something stupid last night.”
“What?” she demanded. I didn’t answer. “Holy shit, did you sleep with Puck?”
“No!” I insisted.
“You’re lying,” she sad flatly. “You’re a really crappy liar, Becca—you need to work on that, because it’s an important life skill. So how was he? I’ve always wanted to get him naked . . .”
“Danielle!”
“No, no. I won’t go there, obviously,” she insisted. “But I’m your friend, Becca. Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”
“It’s really messed up,” I said slowly. “I never told you this, but Puck and I had sex down in California.”
Her brows raised and her mouth dropped. Literally. Just like a cartoon character.
“Wow. But weren’t you like twelve or something?”
“I’d just turned sixteen. He was twenty-one.”
“That’s fucked up, Becca.”
I shrugged. “Where I come from, it’s not a big deal. I mean, it is a big deal, but it wasn’t his fault. He had no idea how young I was, and if anything he got set up. My stepdad arranged it.”
Danielle swallowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Teeny gave me to Puck. He’d just gotten out of prison. Like, gotten out of prison that day. They were having a party for him, and I caught his eye. That’s when Teeny told me to make him happy or I’d pay. You come from a nice family, Danielle—mine was different. Shit like this happens all the time, especially in motorcycle clubs like the Longnecks. The world is full of evil people. And it’s not like I’m the only one, you know—all kinds of girls end up following bikers home. Sometimes they’re underage. Sometimes they want to leave and they can’t . . .”