Never His Girl: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 2)
Never His Girl: Chapter 7

WEST

A bag of ice melts against my knuckles, per my mother’s request. While she’s concerned about bruising and swelling, I don’t give a fuck. My mind’s on the fight, on what Ricky said afterward.

The part about no one else in Blue’s family needing another Golden with his hands around their throat.

I’ve gone over it a million times, gone over what he could’ve meant, and I keep coming up empty. He can only be talking about Vin, but beyond that, I’m lost.

Since making it home a few hours ago, I’ve thought several times about driving up and down every street of South Cypress, looking for Ricky, asking around until I find someone who knows him. But not knowing his last name makes him a ghost. There’s also the fact that I’m pretty sure no one on that side of town would give up info on him even if they had it.

But damn … he knows something.

Much more than I do.

“All right, jackass. No more side-stepping. No more being dodgy and shit,” Dane asserts. “Sit your ass down and start talking, because neither one of us is leaving until you tell us what the hell is going on.”

These are the first words spoken as he and Sterling barge in and lock the door behind them, doing some kind of bad cop/bad cop routine. Both stand posted at the entrance of my bedroom, arms folded over their chests.

Mom tried the same thing after the doorman called ahead to tell her I was on my way up and had clearly been in a fight. Difference is, she’s not nearly as persistent as these two dicks. They’re done letting me get by without giving straight answers.

Which is why I know I won’t be able to wait them out like I’d done with her.

Neither wavers as they stare me down. In fact, the longer I make them wait, they glare harder.

All my life, I’ve shielded them from certain realities. Not because they can’t handle shit, but because why the fuck would I put Vin’s BS in their heads? Given the option, I wouldn’t even want to know what I know. Seemed unfair to dump it on them, too.

But if I’m being honest, I’m tired. Tired of being the sole keeper of my father’s secrets. Tired of trying to figure things out on my own. Tired of being the only bad guy when I definitely don’t hold that title alone.

When I drop down onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, I realize I’m done holding it all in. Right or wrong, I’m ready to spill everything I know to the two people I trust most. Ricky’s comment—and the questions it has me asking myself—might be the reason I’m suddenly over it.

“The first time I realized Dad’s a world-class asshole, I was eight,” I confess. “Sneaking into his truck to surprise him on his birthday gave me a ringside seat to him getting head from some random bitch who works for him.”

There’s a weight that lifts off me the second the words leave my mouth, but in no time, it’s replaced with guilt. For having just shifted that burden to my brothers’ shoulders.

“He told me to stop crying and to man up when he realized what I saw. Then, he told me I’d break Mom’s heart if I opened my mouth about it,” I add. “After that, there were clues here and there—a condom wrapper underneath the backseat, sick fucking phone conversations I’ve overheard. But, more recently, there was a picture.”

Instead of explaining, I go for my phone and scroll through the gallery. Dane and Sterling hesitate to leave their post at the door, but eventually step closer. When I lift the screen, showing them the image I found in the safe months ago—covering her tits with my thumb, of course—they both look as confused as I did first laying eyes on it.

“Southside?” Dane questions.

“You think she and Dad are…” Sterling’s voice trails off before finishing his thought.

“Found it on a phone in his safe. The day I stole his credit card,” I explain, lowering my own phone back to the pocket of my sweats.

“This is why you went after her,” Dane finally understands.

“It is,” I admit, “but a lot’s gone down since then.”

Including my stupid ass falling for this girl, without any clear resolution at that.

I sigh, remembering how sure I was about everything back then. How positive I was that she deserved everything I did to her. It was all so black and white.

“That why you freaked out with what her ex said today? You think he knows how Vin and Southside are connected?” Dane asks next.

I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Which is true. There’s so much more to tell them, but I don’t even know where to start, or what’s true and what’s a lie.

“Before regionals, when Vin came down to talk, it was about the pics of me and Southside in the pool. He insisted that I stay away from her, admitted they were a thing, then claimed she was only using me to hurt him because he broke things off.”

“He admitted it?” Sterling asks, prompting me to nod. “And you’re sure it’s not bullshit?”

My eyes fall shut and, just like that, I’m back at that night, back in that hotel room. Staring into Southside’s eyes, I could’ve sworn whatever she felt was real. Could’ve sworn it had nothing to do with revenge and had everything to do with her and me.

But then, there were Vin’s words.

“At the time I couldn’t see him copping to something like that if it weren’t true, but … now I’m wondering if I got it wrong.”

My head spins, knowing I have only a few pieces of the puzzle. Knowing I don’t even know where those pieces fit.

“If you were wrong,” Sterling reasons, “that means whatever he’s actually covering up is somehow worse than letting his son think he’d screw a high school girl.”

An affair made so much sense. I mean, this is Vin we’re talking about. Cheating comes as naturally to him as breathing. Not to mention, Southside fits his type to a tee. And he sure as shit doesn’t want me connected to her, but now nothing I know adds up.

Nothing.

When I lean forward and grip my head, my brothers are silent. They have no idea how it feels to question whether I could’ve fucked this all up because of another of our father’s mind games.

“Don’t spiral.” Dane’s words are stern, spoken at the precise moment I need to hear them.

“Let’s backtrack to the video,” Sterling cuts in. “Is there a connection? Did you leak it to get revenge because of what Vin told you?”

My stomach’s in knots now.

“No,” I sigh. “It wasn’t me. Parker’s the only bitch twisted enough to do shit like that.”

I’m not looking up at either of their faces, but I imagine the looks they’re giving me right now.

“Fucking knew it,” Sterling seethes.

“And why haven’t we ratted this bitch out already?” Dane wants to know.

“Because it’s not that simple.”

I feel those judgmental stares on me again after I speak.

“Why the fuck not? She screwed you over, now we rain down hell on her head. Sounds pretty fucking simple to me,” Dane reasons. He’s worked up like it’s his name on the line. Not mine.

“I can’t snitch because she knows,” I respond, already sounding defeated.

“Knows what?”

I peer up just as Sterling asks. And with what I say next, he shoots me a knowing stare.

“About Casey. From Casey,” I clarify before they can ask who the hell would tell Parker Holiday any-fucking-thing.

Their immediate response? Silence. Then, both take a seat to think—one in the armchair near the window, the other on the floor with his back to the wall.

“Damn,” Sterling sighs, finally getting it.

“If I tell what she did with the video, she’s telling everyone what she knows about me and Casey. Starting with Casey’s father.”

Both understand why that, in particular, would suck for me.

“Damn,” Sterling repeats.

We sit there for a while, not saying a word as they take in the full scope of the whole fucked up situation.

Dane shifts in the chair and he has me and Sterling’s full attention.

“You weren’t the only one who found out early who and what Vin really is. I was ten,” he admits. “It was when he hired that babysitter to look after us while Mom went home to The Bayou for a week.”

He flashes a humorless smirk

I remember that week, and the “babysitter” our piece-of-shit father hired to keep us out of his hair while he dicked around, doing absolutely nothing.

“I couldn’t sleep one night, so I got up for water. On the way to the kitchen, I heard weird sounds coming from one of the bathrooms,” Dane continues. “Not thinking, I walked in and caught them. He had her bent over the sink, pants around his ankles.”

I shouldn’t be surprised Dane has a story of his own, but I am. Apparently, I’m not the only one who thought it best to protect the others from what I knew.

“He bribe you with ice cream, too?” I ask, half-joking, half-not.

“Nah, fifty bucks and mention of Mom having threatened to overdose on pills the week before. He said that, if I snitched on him, she might make good on her promise.”

“What kind of asshole tells his own damn kid shit like that?”

Dane shrugs before answering my question. “Only Vin Golden.”

None of us argue with that.

“What a sick fuck.” Sterling scoffs. “I’ve never caught him in the act, but you couldn’t have paid me to believe he’s ever been faithful. Someone with an ego like that was never meant to be a family man.”

We’re quiet again, and I wonder if they’re reflecting on our hit or miss childhood, too. Yeah, having money made it easier to ignore some of the bullshit, but those highs have always been punctuated by some pretty unhealthy lows, shit no kid should ever have to see.

“So, what’s the plan?” Dane asks. And I note he didn’t ask what ‘my’ plan is. Now that they know the truth, they’ve made it their problem, too.

I shrug, feeling fired up and defeated all at once. “Hell if I know.”

“We need to get to the bottom of Vin’s lie, and we need to fix this shit between you and Southside,” Sterling says, but then he eyes me. “Unless … you still think you got the whole truth out of Vin.”

I think about that for a moment and consider how he’s manipulated all of us over the years. As easy as it was to believe I had this all figured out, it’s no longer just about me being aware of what Vin’s capable of. I saw something in Southside that night, and I know what I felt when I touched her.

That, alone, has me ready to throw my theories out the window, because of the reality I can’t outrun—I want this girl. Maybe even more than I want the truth. It has me thinking that, even if we never uncover the whole story, I might just say fuck it all.

That is, if I can ever get her to listen to me.

“I tried talking to her today, but it was a no-go.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dane says with a laugh. “She thinks you plastered a vid of her, ass up, all over the internet. Would you want to talk to you?”

“Let’s be honest, though. It wasn’t exactly a bad angle.” Sterling tilts his head as he zones out, visualizing Southside in the footage.

“Really, bitch?” He ignores me and blocks it when I beam my icepack at him. “You watched the whole fucking thing, didn’t you?” I ask.

“The whole fucking thing,” he freely admits. “And if no one had mentioned you were in it, I wouldn’t have even noticed.”

I’m holding in a laugh—the first that’s threatened to leave me in days. No one in the world but these two assholes could get away with even thinking about Southside in this light.

Just ask Austin how that went for him.

“Just saying. She’s hot all over,” he adds, testing me again.

“We’ve gotta focus,” Dane cuts in. “Just coming out and telling Southside that Parker’s behind the leak is out, because you’d have to tell her why you can’t turn her in,” he rambles, pausing to think.

There’s a lot of shit to work out. A lot of moving pieces, which haven’t all been revealed yet. The thought brings me back full circle—to Ricky and that vague-ass comment he made earlier.

“You’re gonna have to start small,” Dane concludes, interrupting my thought.

My gaze flashes toward him. “Sooo … start smaller than a conversation?” I ask, arching a brow. “Because that’s pretty fucking small to me.”

I’ve never given much thought to how I approach a girl, so I can admit to being in uncharted waters here. Even though the only girl Dane’s ever put any stock in is Joss, I consider his experience in taking a delicate approach with women far beyond mine. Usually, I take what Mom calls the ‘bull in a China shop’ approach to dating.

Rush in with reckless abandon. Fuck shit up. Move on to the next.

“You gotta go smaller,” he answers. “And resist the urge to back the girl into a corner when you get impatient, West. Seriously. As far as she knows, you’re guilty. Of everything.”

He knows me well. Patience, for me, is right up there with tact. I wasn’t born with either.

“Also, you might want to pray she doesn’t dick kick you while you’re working things out. The girl’s got a lot of fight in her.”

Despite myself, I smile a little. He isn’t wrong.

I’m considering everything they’ve said, considering everything that’s come to light today, and I know I have my work cut out for me. Thing is, there’s something about Southside that makes it impossible to give up.

She hates me, I get it, but even knowing there’s probably no chance in hell she’ll ever speak to me again, I’m committed to trying.

All because this feels different. She’s the first girl I haven’t been able to get out of my head and … that has to mean something.

Has to.

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