Chapter 9: Rival: Chapter 8

I’d snatched Madoc’s keys and run out of the house, but it wasn’t until I got on the road that I realized I didn’t have any fucking clue where I was going. This town had no friends for me, no family, and there was really nowhere I could run to regroup.

At least at St. Joseph’s I’d found solace in the chapel. I didn’t go to pray, and I barely participated in the masses even though they were required for students. But I liked the chapel. It was beautiful and quiet. Pray or not, it was a good place to think.

To plan.

No such luck right now, though. It was too dark for the quarry, and pretty soon it was going to be too wet for any outdoor space. As it was almost midnight, it was also too late for any public indoor escape, as well.

Thunder cracked nearby, echoing across the black sky, and I applied the brakes when rain started to splatter the windshield. I’d noticed the lightning and thunder at the party, which was why I’d borrowed Madoc’s car. Didn’t want to get pummeled with rain on my bike.

When the prince found out, it was going to take them a week to unbunch the panties up his ass. Guys didn’t like their cars messed with.

And I didn’t like being messed with, so I guessed we were even. I punched the stick shift into fifth gear and hit the gas.

I already had what I needed on my mom and Mr. Caruthers. I just needed Madoc.

But I hadn’t known it was going to be this hard. Seeing him. Knowing that what he said was true. I tried to act like I was stronger. I mean, after everything that had happened, I should be, right?

Tears burned my eyes, threatening to spill, but I forced down the golf ball–sized ache in my throat.

As I traveled down the deserted highway, I zoned in on the sound of the spray being kicked up by my tires and the headlights reflected off the black road. Up ahead the lights from the town glowed bright, and I spotted a familiar sign off to the side.

IROQUOIS MENDOZA PARK Tons of afternoons and weekends spent there flashed through my mind.

It was where I used to hang out with the few friends I did have when I attended high school here. I shook my head and almost laughed. The park had an awesome skating area.

Nostalgia pulled me into a left turn, and I drove into the park, coming to a stop right in front of one of the many bowls. Overhead lighting was usually available when events were going on in the park, but tonight everything was eerily dark. I left the car running and the headlights on to illuminate the area.

Stepping out of the car, I blinked against the light but steady fall of rain. My feet squeaked in my wet flip-flops as I walked to the edge of the deserted bowl and peered down into the smooth, shallow depth. Slipping my shoes off my feet and shivering in my now damp clothes, I sat and then slid down into the bowl, feeling the velvety cement on my toes.

A shiver ran through my body again, but I wasn’t cold. The night was warm, and although the rain made the air chillier, it was a comfortable temperature. I took a step, breathing hard, feeling too damn closed in by the steep walls around me. They never used to scare me. I used to charge down the vert, relishing how my heart pumped faster as I raced at top speed toward the next incline.

This was where I used to breathe easier. But now . . .

I spun around, the low growl of an engine digging through the thick air. The peel of tires pierced the calm as a black Mustang screeched to a halt next to Madoc’s GTO.

Straightening my shoulders, I tipped my chin up and prepared to face what I knew was coming.

Madoc jumped out of the car, not even caring to close the door behind him. “You stole my car?!” he shouted, peering down into the bowl.

With the headlights behind him, the area was well lit, and I tried to breathe against the flutter in my chest.

He was here. We were alone. We were angry.

This is what I wanted. It’s what I’d planned.

But I turned my back on him, anyway.

I’d told myself time and again that I didn’t care what he thought of me. I didn’t want his heart, after all. It wasn’t part of the equation. He didn’t need to love me or respect me for this to work. I would get what I wanted without worrying about whatever was in his head. It. Did. Not. Matter.

So why couldn’t I just draw him in like I’d planned? Why did I want to spit back?

“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it, princess,” I shot back.

He jumped down into the bowl, his flip-flops slapping against the wet cement as he drew closer to me. “Don’t touch my shit, Fallon!”

“Oh, but you got to come into my room last night and touch me? You don’t get to have everything, Madoc.”

He stopped a few feet from me, and I felt the walls of the bowl close in as he stared. I expected more yelling and insults, but he just stood there, looking like everything that could destroy me without even speaking a word. Looking like everything that nearly did destroy me.

He was still dressed in only his board shorts and flip-flops. No shirt. I guess he would’ve left the house in a hurry if he was coming after me. He’d changed so much in the years I’d been gone. Now his shoulders and arms were works of art. Madoc had always liked to work out, and it paid off. He was built like a quarterback, and he was tall. I wished I didn’t feel the invisible cord pulling me to him, wanting to touch him again, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. We always want what’s bad for us.

Madoc was hot. He knew it. And he knew everyone else knew it.

But what was underneath the blond hair, boyish blue eyes, and smooth, toned body was bad. He was bad.

And someday his looks would fade, and whoever he ended up with would just have someone bad. I had to remind myself of that. There was nothing in him that I should want.

The light rain blew around his face, and he blinked away the water dripping down his cheeks. “You know what?” he sneered, looking like he was about to turn away. “I’m so over your bullshit, Fallon. I wish I knew what the hell you wanted from me.” His voice got stronger. “You act like everything’s fine around Addie and then you show up to my party dressed to impress down to your underwear around all of my friends, and then you bring up my party two years ago.” He got in my face. “What do you want from me?” His bellow reared up from deep inside of him.

“Nothing!” I shouted, my eyes burning with anger. “I want nothing from you. Nothing ever again!”

He reared back just a little as if I’d surprised him.

“Again? Is that what this is about?” he asked. “Us fucking two years ago?”

I averted my eyes.

I’d rather shove a drumstick up my nose than let him see how much that hurt. I wiped the water off my forehead and smoothed my hair over the top of my head.

“You know what?” He narrowed his eyes, speaking up before I got a chance. “You can go to hell, Fallon. I was sixteen, too. I was a virgin, same as you. You were all over me, too, and you know it. I didn’t force you! You didn’t have to go and complain to our parents. Jesus Christ!”

By that point he was breathing hard. “They treated me like I was pressuring you or some shit!” he shouted, throwing his hand out into the air. “You told them that I was forcing you?”

“Madoc, I . . .”

My breath, my hands, my knees—everything was shaking.

“Screw you, Fallon,” he cut me off, getting angrier. “All you had to do was say something. I would’ve left you alone, but I thought . . .”

He trailed off, looking at the ground, looking too disgusted to speak with his pursed lips.

The air in my lungs was gone.

Everything he was saying was like a slap, and I’d been knocked on my ass. What the hell was he talking about?

I inched closer. “They told you I complained?”

His head snapped up, and I saw the muscles twitching in his jaw. “Your mother told me that you hated what I was doing to you. That you had to get away from me, and that’s why you disappeared overnight.” Every word bled from his mouth. His cut was deep.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. This was not happening!

If they had lied and told Madoc that I complained, then that meant he thought I wanted to leave. He thought that I went to our parents to be sent away.

I sucked the water off my bottom lip and opened my eyes, meeting Madoc’s scowl.

Madoc had never wanted me gone. He thought that I ran from him.

That was unexpected.

But it didn’t have to change things. If our parents lied to both of us, then I was still putting them under the knife. Maybe Madoc wasn’t as malicious as I had originally thought, but he still wasn’t innocent. He still treated me like a whore, and he never came for me. Never called, wrote, or looked for me. Everything I went through, I went through alone.

They were all still enemies.

“Get out of my way.” I brushed past him, climbing back up the incline.

But before I reached the car, Madoc grabbed the inside of my elbow and whipped me back around. “No, no. You don’t get to leave until I get an explanation.”

I looked up at him, feeling the heat of his skin through my wet shirt.

“An explanation?” I shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s genetic, Madoc. Penis size is inherited. Not much you can do about it.”

I spun back around, heading to the GTO and my jaw aching with a smile I struggled to hold back.

Opening the car door, I jerked backward as it was slammed shut again by a force behind me.

My heart pounded, and my veins rushed with liquid heat.

Before I could turn around, Madoc crowded my back, pressing my chest into the car door.

Air rushed in and out of my lungs, and I felt warm all the way up to my head.

“Tell me you hated it,” he challenged, lips brushing hot on my ear. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Say it, Fallon.” He pushed into me, his lips in my hair. “Tell me how much you hated my hands on you . . . my mouth on you.”

I splayed my palms against the door, remembering how my hands had been on every inch of him.

Madoc became my world two years ago. I’d wait for him at night, my heart pumping a mile a minute, knowing that he was coming. Knowing that he was going to touch me. I loved all of it. I never wanted the sun to come up.

I pushed back against his long body, the wet heat between my legs nearly making me groan.

I could barely catch my breath as I twisted my face to the side.

“You want to hear how much I wanted it?” My throat tightened on the words.

He laid his palms over my hands against the door and pressed into me harder from behind.

His lips were on my neck. “Fuck the past,” he breathed. “I want to hear that you missed it.”