The Not-Outcast Read online

Right.

  Fucking Chad.

  “I think they have a big backyard.”

  Her mouth tightened. She swallowed. She tightened her hold on the steering wheel, she might’ve been trying to strangle it, pretending it was Chad’s neck. She let it go in the next breath and unclasped her seatbelt. “Let’s do this.”

  My heart started pounding.

  My blood started searing, rippling, getting worked up.

  We were in our older twenties. We were into our careers. We should know better, right? Well, we did. But I still loved doing stupid, immature stuff like this.

  Made me feel normal.

  Not that we didn’t do this when we were in college, but I’d still been figuring things out. Half the shit I did, I didn’t know what I was doing or why I was doing it, I was just in a craze. Now, though…now I could enjoy it. And my girl was hurting, and fucking Chad, but I was having fun this time.

  I was just hoping no cops were called, because … embarrassing.

  Right now, we were both moving stealthily.

  The secret agent and the assassin.

  We were business-like.

  We’d even gone to Sasha’s and changed clothes. All black.

  I wanted to wear a mask. I had a cool, skull-looking one at my place, but Sasha vetoed it, saying we’d for sure get cops called on us then. So, we were going no mask, but still all black, and though my heart was thumping out of my chest, both of us were the epitome of a Toilet Paper SEAL Team being called in.

  It was effin’ awesome.

  Sasha lifted the back door. We each took an entire case of rolls and then we went to work.

  Cut had told me once that Chad’s side of the house was the smaller one, so that’s where we went. We went over, stopped in the lawn, and perused the house. Then, exchanging a nod, we got to work.

  The toilet paper cases were dropped on the lawn. Tore open. And the first roll was out, being cocked back, and we each let ’em loose. They flew through the air, the paper trailing behind it looking like a small, fluttering little kite tail. It was a sight to behold. Absolutely glorious.

  I went back to Matilda and grabbed some earbuds from my purse.

  A good bass and some rap beat were going to make this night epic.

  An hour later, the entire front was covered.

  We weren’t thinking. We should’ve done the back first, but we had already committed. We couldn’t back out now.

  Sasha waved and yelled over my music, “I’m going to the side.”

  I nodded, trekking back to Matilda for my third case of toilet paper. This stuff was caked on in some places.

  Then I headed to the backyard.

  Two hours later, Eminem and the 8 Mile soundtrack was blasting in my ears and most of the backyard was done.

  Over the windows.

  Tucked in between some of the siding.

  Over, around, and through the hedges.

  Under some of the rocks. Over the rocks.

  I had made trails of toilet paper over and around the other piles of toilet paper. I was considering the logistics of making a whole toilet paper igloo when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  Expecting Sasha, I was smiling, and knowing I looked a little drunk because that was the level I was on, I turned and it was not Sasha.

  Not Sasha at all.

  My Not-Brother was glowering at me.

  He was so not happy.

  Fucking Chad.

  18

  Cheyenne

  My Not-Brother reeked of cologne, perfume, sweat, and smoke.

  He was also still not happy, even thirty minutes later. He first showed up with a whole entourage of people. When he tapped my shoulder, I saw him, saw Sasha behind him, and then saw everyone else behind her. The women were barely clothed, but with some seriously rad clothes. Sequins and glitter galore. I’d be in heaven if we were doing nightclub costume night. Their hair was all sleek, even late in the night, and their makeup was barely smudged.

  I needed to find those women and ask for pointers. When I went dancing, my makeup was easily streaking off of me within an hour. I’ve been told that’s the con of being in shape, you sweat easily—okay, I was getting off track.

  Back on track.

  But first, Sasha. She was pissed when Chad showed up.

  Her arms were crossed. Her mouth tight. She wasn’t talking to him, even when his glower faded when he looked at her. My Not-Brother was muscular, maybe around five eleven. He looked like a little body builder, but not to the extreme levels they were. A box-like jaw. His hair had reddish hints, but it was mostly brown now. I remembered those eyes. They’d been pretty in school, and his eyelashes were all long and curly. I didn’t usually notice eyelashes on guys, but he’d been my brother back then, and I remember thinking that he got a mom, a little brother, and those eyelashes? Lucky ducker.

  Even my brain was autocorrecting me now.

  When he looked at me, he was all scowls. When he looked at Sasha, he was all regret. Could see it a million miles away, but Sash, she wouldn’t look at him.

  He’d sent his entourage away by now, and we were now inside the generously toiled-papered house. He raised a hand and gripped the back of his head. “Sasha—”

  She turned away, for the thirtieth time.

  I’m not exaggerating.

  And I frowned. “Are you calling the cops?”

  I couldn’t remember if he told me. He probably did. My mind had been distracted by all the outfits behind him before he sent them away, and he let out an aggrieved sigh now.

  I was sure he told me.

  “I already told you—” See. “I didn’t call them.”

  Sasha said, only looking at me, “He got an alert on his phone. We tripped the security when you went into the backyard.”

  My bad.

  She kept on, “But it took him forty minutes to notice because he’d been getting two lap dances at Bresko’s.”

  He went back to scowling. “I was not getting a lap dance. I was just dancing. That’s it. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “Correction, he was having non-penetrating sex with clothes on in a private venue, so it took him a long time before he pulled up the security footage.” She threw him a nasty look. “Apparently that’s something I should let my girls do at Tits.”

  “I’ve never said that, and that’s not what was happening. I was just distracted. The music was loud.” He rolled his eyes. “I still can’t get over that you run that strip club.”

  “It’s a private dance club.”

  He snorted, his hand dropping from behind his head. “Right. What she said.”

  I knew cops. I didn’t want to deal with them. “So, no cops?”

  Also, they were bickering because he’d been distracted from noticing the security alert. I was thinking Sasha wasn’t realizing what side we currently were on. We were pro-distraction right now. She could be anti-distraction when we weren’t the ones setting off the security alerts.

  Both looked at me.

  “No cops.”

  My Not-Brother added, “I was calling them when I recognized Sasha, so I hung up. It’s all good.”

  I let out some air. Good. No cops.

  I frowned again. “Then, why are we waiting? Did I miss that part, too?”

  Not-Brother scowled again.

  Sasha grinned. “He called your boy. He’s on his way.”

  Oh, crap. I remembered our ‘maybe later’ date and scrambled for my phone. I’d missed two texts, and both were right when the rabbit rapper was trying to fix his car.

  “She works with the police, ya know.” Sasha was nodding in my direction.

  My Not-Brother frowned, swinging his head back my way. “You do?”

  “I work at a kitchen for the homeless. Our paths cross sometimes.”

  “Right.” But he continued to frown, taking on a more distracted look, before his eyes paused looking at the window, and whatever he’d been thinking just then vanished. His eyebrows pinched together, and the s
ides of his mouth curved down. “You guys have to clean that shit up. And why only one of our houses—”

  “Because it’s yours.” Both Sasha and I said that at the same time.

  Chad shut up before rolling his eyes. “I need a drink.” He started out of the room. “You guys want anything?”

  Sasha, “Hell yes, all that rolling has me parched.”

  Me, “I’m on medication.”

  Chad’s head came back. “What?”

  Sasha started laughing.

  “I’m on heavy, psychotropic medication. Do you know how bad it would be if I had a drink? Know how nuts I would get?” My voice took on a threatening tone.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  Sasha knew what I was doing, and she looked away, biting down on her lip.

  Part of this was to get back at him, but he was remembering. I saw the look, and he was remembering it all from high school.

  I started for him, my head tilted to the side. “I was so bad that you were sent away. Remember? That I was so nuts, that they didn’t tell me I had a little brother?” He winced at that one. Good. I kept on, “That I was so dangerous, that when my mom died, I couldn’t be with my dad. Everyone feared it would fuck with your hockey training. Remember that? I sure do. That’s what Natalie was worried about.”

  The air after I finished saying my peace was heavy.

  My heart was beating, and fuck me, but I was suddenly completely and totally focused on one person.

  Chad looked like he wanted to throw up. His mouth pressed in. White lines formed around his mouth, and then, behind us all, came a gravelly voice.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  I stiffened.

  Chad swore.

  Sasha purred. “Oh. This just got fun.”

  I looked, and standing just beyond the doorway to the large house, in the doorway that led to the living room where we were standing, was Cut. His jaw was clenched. His eyes smoldering, and he looked fierce.

  Chad swore again. “It wasn’t totally like that.”

  “It was totally like that.”

  He swung around to Sasha. “You weren’t even there.”

  She shrugged, her chin raising up. “Doesn’t matter. My girl doesn’t lie, and she told me years ago how it went down. Her mom died, and instead of going to live with her father, she went back to her uncle’s until she went off to college.”

  He started for her, his hand up. “She wanted to stay with her uncle.”

  She snorted, rolling her eyes this time.

  He swung my way. “Didn’t you? That’s what I was told.”

  “It would’ve messed up your hockey training. My first time living there had already messed up enough.”

  His mouth hung open. “That’s not what I was told.”

  No one said a word. There didn’t seem to be much of a point at this time in our lives.

  I didn’t think it would hurt, but then again, I never thought about Chad, or thought I’d have this conversation with him. I guess all I focused on back then to get me through was being in love with Cut for so long, from so far away—it had taken on a whole fairytale feeling to me. Sasha was right. He was the knight in shining armor to me, and I had no idea why I put that image on him.

  I glanced his way, his eyes were laser-focused on me. His gaze was piercing, and I winced, feeling him slide right inside, just like the first night at the charity gala. He saw me, and he claimed me, and he hadn’t backed out. Yet.

  He would, though. It was just a matter of time.

  Fuck. Fuck! That hurt realizing that.

  This was stupid. We shouldn’t be here.

  I shouldn’t even be playing with the notion of him and me. It was all going to end in disaster. Every relationship in my life did, except Sash and Mel. Both of them had stayed so far.

  “Shy,” a soft call from Sasha.

  I already knew.

  Shit, that hurt.

  I was swallowing knives. Pain sliced down my chest.

  “Cheyenne, whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

  “Not how my brain works,” I gutted out.

  “Well, stop it. Do your exercises. I can see you’re thinking a whole lot of bad shit that’s going to sabotage you, so stop it. Right now.”

  “What kind of things?” Cut.

  And damn, his tone was soft, too.

  Here it was. He was seeing the beginning of a freak-out. I’d be bouncing off the walls in two seconds, then he’d run. Then he’d be the one to call the police, not Chad.

  It’d be done then. Once and for all.

  Sasha ignored him, saying to me, “You drive your brain. Got it? Not the other way around.”

  She didn’t get it. And if anyone got it, it was her, but she didn’t get it. Her brain wasn’t a total rollercoaster ride by itself, and now I was shaking because dammit, I was trying to do what she was saying.

  The carpet was extra soft.

  There was a lingering smell of tanning lotion in the room.

  Some blinds in another room were rustling.

  I was bouncing around.

  “What’s going on?”

  That was Chad, but he sounded like he was running around me.

  “She’s overwhelmed.”

  “I thought she got back on her meds.”

  I jumped, but a hand touched my arm. Soft. Gentle. It was Cut, and he was there, right next to me.

  I leaned into him, not even thinking.

  Mess, mess, mess. Me.

  He’d run.

  I was a mess.

  “She’s sweating.”

  Sasha cursed. “Babe, what do you need?”

  I was shaking my head. No wonder it was getting worse? I was working myself up, or not even that. It was like a bull always in my head, always ready to go and charge at a moment’s notice, but sometimes I could corral him in. But this was me, letting him out myself and I had to stop it.

  I kept seeing the pool outside. A few floaties were on the surface, lights underneath were now lit up, and I was moving for the back patio doors in the next instant. “I need to swim.”

  There were voices behind me.

  The floor’s texture was smooth, but there were a few pebbles under my feet. I could tell Cut how many different colors he had in just his living room. I could tell him there was a weird whirring sound from upstairs. I could tell him so much more, but then I was outside and I breathed in the air.

  I was always better outside, and then two more steps and I was jumping in the air.

  Then, splash!

  Everything was doused. Dulled. Quieted. I stilled under the water, drowning out the raging bull inside.

  I could think.

  It was only me, the water, and my thoughts.

  After that, I kicked off and I swam.

  I needed to exhaust my brain.

  CUT

  I had no idea how to help her.

  I’d been watching her swim laps for thirty minutes, and she just kept going. This wasn’t normal. I mean, I knew. She’d told me, but this was… This just was. I had nothing to back that up.

  When Chad called me, I thought he was high. I’d been at Hendrix’s and I’d sent her a couple of texts. No answer. I hadn’t thought much about it. I knew where she was. Anyone sitting at a titty bar was either enamored or bored out of their minds. I figured since it’s her friend’s place, she was having a good time. Then, Chad sent me the footage, and holy shit. Mind fuck.

  She was toilet papering our place. Not even the whole place. She was toilet papering Chad’s side.

  I cracked up, showing Hendrix the footage, and he cracked up, too.

  But coming here, I hadn’t been pissed off at all.

  Chad was Chad. I figured he’d be pissy and throwing his weight around. He did that on a normal basis, but I knew it’d be more with Cheyenne and yeah, there was history there that I knew I still hadn’t uncovered, but here we were. I mean, she warned me. I saw her getting worked up, and now she was doing laps in my swimming
pool and I had no idea what I was going to say to her when she finished.

  Chad took the other one home. Both of them had been drinking so they got an Uber, but I didn’t expect him back until tomorrow at some point. Tension was high between those two, so we’d see what unfolded tomorrow. But back to my girl, because she was mine, even with the shit that went down here tonight.

  My Cheyenne.

  Was this fast? Yes. Hell yes.

  Was there stuff I needed to unravel? Fuck yes.

  Was I walking? Not a chance.

  Then she stopped swimming, did a flip in the water, and stood at the edge. She had tossed her clothes after two laps, so I’d watched her swim the entire time in only her bra and panties and my dick was hard the entire fucking time, but it wasn’t the time for that. She stood, water dripping down from her, and she just stared at me. She didn’t hide herself. Her hair was slicked back. Her hands went to her side as she rose out of the pool.

  Still standing tall. Straight. Her hands never left her side. Her eyes didn’t waver either.

  She was waiting.

  To see what my reaction would be, I suppose.

  I stood up and Jesus, I had no fucking idea what I was going to do, but I said somehow, “Ready for bed?”

  A tired smile appeared—or maybe that was relief—and her top lip lifted. “Yes.”

  19

  Cheyenne

  I woke the next morning, and I froze.

  I remembered everything. Everything. And holy Moses, I freaked yesterday. He actually saw it all, but on the Cheyenne Scale, that one hadn’t been bad. Swimming it out of me helped, but I was tired, and my body ached. I hadn’t swum in a really long time, and my body was revolting against the coping mechanism I’d chosen to calm the chaos.

  A body shifted on the bed beside me, and I closed my eyes before turning over. Looking.

  He was waiting for me. Head on his pillow, turned toward me, and he grinned. “Morning.”

  I wanted to die. “Morning.”

  His eyes softened. “How are you feeling?”

  I shrugged. “It is what it is.”