Irreparably Broken Read online

  After pulling my Timberlands from my bag, I sit on my bed, slide them on, and lace them up quickly. When I’m done, I fall back onto the bed. It’s a miserable feeling to want someone so bad. To know it’s wrong to touch her. That if you do, you’ll ruin her. Like a newly frosted cake you don’t have permission to touch. You want a taste so bad your mouth waters. When no one’s looking, you swipe your finger through the frosting, and steal a dollop of sugary goodness. It’s heaven on your tongue, but then you look down and see your mark in the frosting — you’ve destroyed it. Fuck, I can’t handle any more guilt in my life. I have to stay clear of Tori. Hurting her is not worth a taste.

  My door opens, and Tug strolls in, laughing. I sit up, and my mood brightens up seeing how amused he is with himself. “What’s so funny, little brother?”

  He pats himself on the shoulder. “Our sister. She’s so easy to rile.”

  I tip my head to look up at him. “Which one?” I ask. Tug grew up with both of them pestering him, and Tori has always been part of our family.

  “The one that Mom delivered,” he answers. “The other one is kinda tough to ruffle.”

  I don’t seem to have a problem pissing Tori off. I laugh silently and shrug away the thought. “Liv still hasn’t figured out that she should just ignore you, huh?”

  Tug says no but looks genuinely confused. “What would ignoring me solve?”

  He’s clueless. “Come on, Tug, you have the attention span of a three-year-old. You’d get bored provoking her if she didn’t let you get under her skin.”

  He grins and then chuckles. “Yeah, true, but I’d find some other way to make her crazy.”

  I stand up, and slap Tug on the back. “You are twisted, bro.”

  I’ve missed Tug and Liv. They might make coming home worth the hell it’s fast becoming.

  His chest swells. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  I laugh. “You would,” I say, and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Tug follows me.

  “Where are you going tonight?”

  I lean against the counter, and fold my arms across my chest. A smile comes over me as the familiarity of our exchange sinks in, Tug following me around like this so many times over the years, always curious what I was up to. “Since I haven’t been home in forever, I’m catching up with some friends later.”

  His mouth turns down, and I’m reminded what a shitty brother I am for not visiting more often. “It has been forever, but it’s good to have you home.”

  “Thanks, it’s good to be home.” I’m only half lying.

  Chapter 3

  Tori

  Liv parks in the garage at Horton Plaza. The club is five blocks away, and the city is bustling. There’s an abundance of people sporting Padres attire, and I assume there’s a game tonight. As we walk, we’re stopped by a homeless man asking for change, and Liv clings to me fearfully. Her nails nearly break the skin on my arm, and I spin to pull away from her. I don’t know what it is, but there is something kind about him. His hair is nearly white and he has crow’s feet around his eyes. He wears a hat that says Big Brother on it, which I find hilarious. Not having any change, I pull a five-dollar bill from my pocket and hand it to him. His smile stretches all the way to his gleaming eyes.

  “Thank you, darling.” The man breaks into song, though I can’t make out the tune because Liv drags me away.

  Liv lets go of my wrist once we cross the street. “You’re crazy!”

  “He’s harmless Liv.”

  “He could be a murderer!” she shouts.

  I cock my head and laugh hard. “Yes, every murder happens in the middle of a very crowded street.”

  She huffs and stomps away.

  As we approach the club, the exterior walls vibrate with the bass from the music. The infinitely long line wraps around the side of the building. Liv opted not to pair her outfit with a sweater, and, judging from her pace, she’s freezing.

  I struggle to keep up with her. My sandals aren’t made for running. “Liv, I don’t think we’re gonna get in. It’s really packed.”

  Her hand flies up, but she doesn’t stop. “I got this.”

  We continue walking until we reach the front of the line, and I spot a familiar face working the door. I recognize can’t-remember-his-goddamn-name because he goes to school with us. The blond doorman and Liv share a couple of classes. I’m almost positive they share more than that occasionally. When he spots Liv, his eyes widen, and roam up and down her body as he takes in her lack of clothing.

  Liv squeals and throws herself at blondie. He catches her. “Andrew!”

  Andrew, that’s his goddamn name. Now I remember. Just like that, with a hug and a sultry smile from Liv, Andrew lets us in without even checking out our totally fake IDs.

  Being twenty kind of sucks – not a teen anymore, not quite legal. It’s like some cruel joke that we have to live an entire year of our lives wanting nothing more than for time to fly by so we can enter a club with our actual license and not worry when the bouncer stares at it for a beat too long.

  Once inside, Liv and I stroll to the bar. Okay, I stroll. Liv struts, and swings her hips from side to side. She bats her lashes at any guy who looks her way. Plenty are drooling, and I’m positive I’ll be leaving here alone tonight.

  Liv orders us Long Island iced teas. We carry our drinks to a table next to the dance floor and I sit down. Considering how packed the place is, we’re lucky to find this spot. When Liv attempts to sit in the headband she’s wearing for a skirt, I exhale in relief when she finally manages to do so without exposing her hoo-hoo to the entire club.

  I glance around and realize how much I detest this environment. Aside from the many guys wearing I’m only here for one reason looks on their faces, it’s stuffy, the air thick with body heat and sweat. A cliché disco ball hangs from the ceiling, and although it’s not spinning, the light reflecting off its mirrored surface dots the walls with yellow circles. Strobe lights are strategically mounted in the corner, shooting various colors of neon light around the dance floor. The constant flashes strain my eyes, and I try to avoid looking in their direction.

  Liv giggles, tossing her long brown locks over her shoulder. “Okay, girly, let’s see if we can’t find you a bangin’-hot guy to hook up with.”

  My brow raises a little. I’m annoyed by her suggestion, and I lean across the table. “I’m not hookin’ up with some strange guy, Liv.”

  Liv sighs and waves a hand at me before surveying the dance floor. “Fine! Let’s see if we can at least find one for you to talk to.” She mumbles something under her breath, which I’m certain, was a comment about what a prude she thinks I am. “Oh, how about him?” She nods toward a guy who needs a belt, or a new pair of pants at the very least. Thankfully he’s wearing boxers so I don’t have to see his hairy ass.

  My lip twitches, and I make a disgusted face. “No way, he’s a total wangster.”

  She swings her eyes to the right and perks up. “I got it, that one.”

  “Fugly!” I laugh loudly. Truthfully, I’m not sure if he’s cute or not, because I don’t even bother to look. Provoking Liv is effortless and so enjoyable. Judging by the exasperated look on her face, she’s frustrated with me. Liv and I do not always agree on who’s hot and who’s not.

  “Hello, McDreamy,” Liv practically sings. She points to a fine-looking-hunk-of-man. This one, we completely agree on. I quickly grab her hand, and shove it in her lap before the guy notices. “He’s the one, Tor.”

  He’s model beautiful, with dark hair and perfectly chiseled features. After watching him briefly, I exhale half a laugh. “He’s prettier than I am. Not to mention I think he’d prefer Tony, not Tori.”

  “What? No way!” she squeals.

  “Totes.” As if on cue, another man approaches the sexpot, leans in close, and kisses him on the cheek. The gesture is clearly overly intimate for friendship.

  Liv snaps her fingers when she sees the two of them. “Damn! Why can I never tell
and you always can?”

  Chin on my palm, I shake my head. “Because you’d try to hook up with them anyway.”

  She smiles confidently, clueless to my belittling. “True.”

  Liv continues to suggest guys she thinks I should hook up with. I play along to appease her, although I have to admit it’s entertaining to antagonize her with my responses. There’s not a single face in this club that does anything for me. Does that make me abnormal? Am I a freak because I don’t want a boyfriend? Maybe I am, but I know what comes after a relationship peaks, and it’s nothing good.

  Suddenly there’s not enough air in the club, and I can’t catch my breath. My throat closes up as I clutch my chest, and notice the accelerated pace in which it rises and falls. I lean over my Long Island iced tea, sucking on the straw until I hear slurping noises.

  “Holy shit, Tor. You just drank that entire thing in, like, five seconds.” The shock is evident in her voice. Usually I have a strict rule about pacing myself when we drink.

  I barely hear Liv, my eyes fixed on the unwelcome face strolling toward me. I look away, and shift uncomfortably on my stool. My palms are sweaty, and I brush them across the coarse indigo denim of my jeans.

  “Hey, Victoria.”

  God, why does my name have to sound so damn sexy when he says it? And why does he have to look better than he ever has? Truthfully, I’d hoped the next time I had to see him he would’ve been bit by the ugly bug. No such luck. He’s wearing a snug fitting T-shirt, showing off his chest, which is broader than I remember. Blond wisps of hair hang just above his aqua-blue eyes. He smiles and it’s enticing. I’m not sure, but I might have smiled back. I guess he’s home for the summer, too. Jake attends UCLA, and I’d planned to go with him, until the night I opened the door Brady had cunningly informed me was a bathroom.

  I look down at my hands, positive if I look him in the eyes, I will cry. “Hey, Jake.”

  Liv looks every bit as irate as I am, as her voice bellows above the music. “Don’t hey, Victoria her, asshole.”

  I choke on my laughter, and finally look up at Jake. It’s perfectly timed, and allows me to watch Jake’s confident smile slide off his face. He glances briefly at me and then back to Liv. Jake holds his hands up in front of his chest to ward her off. “Whoa, Liv, I’m just being friendly.” His eyes meet mine again.

  What the hell is he looking at me for? There’s no chance I’m going to rescue him from the wrath Liv is about to deliver. Whatever Liv is going to dish out, Jake clearly has it coming.

  “Yeah, well, you were just being friendly with Savannah Porter, too when Tor found you with Savannah’s lips wrapped around your dick. So why don’t you get lost? She doesn’t want you to be friendly.” As expected, Liv lays into him, and I love the hell out of her for it.

  Porter, that’s her last fucking name. Liv’s bold declaration gives me the bravery I need to remember I’m a cold, heartless bitch now and no longer his sweet little girlfriend. Or maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through my veins that does it. “Yeah, Jake, I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Just go back to dancing and pretend you never saw me.” Yep, it’s the alcohol, all right.

  His eyebrows bunch together, and he looks at me as though I’ve disappointed him. I want to punch him for having expectations of me after everything he put me through. “If that’s what you want, Victoria.”

  “Don’t fucking call me that!” I spit, glaring at him through narrowed lids.

  With his palms flat on the table in front of me, he leans in close, and I flinch. “Obviously I’ve upset you, and that wasn’t my intention, so I’ll leave you be.” He turns and disappears into a crowd of glitter and sequins. I finally manage a full breath of air.

  “Obviously, ass-wipe!” Liv holds her fist up so we can bump knuckles, laughing.

  My fist connects with hers, and I make a little explosion noise. “God, I love you, Liv.”

  “I know you do, sister. I love you, too.” She looks at me with careful eyes. She knows I’m putting up a tough-girl exterior. On the inside, my heart just broke all over again.

  I go to the bar and order another Long Island. I suck it down faster than the first, and finish it before I even lift it from the bar. Drinking so fast causes brain freeze, and pain shoots through my head. I hold the glass of ice to my left wrist. Someone once said it helps cool the blood and stop the pain, but they’re wrong. It still friggin’ hurts. After a few more seconds, the throbbing stops, and I set the glass back on the bar. I huff out a breath of air to remove the small strands of hair that have escaped my bun and now hang in front of my eyes. Of all the places to be in San Diego, Jake is here. I pull the straw from the glass, and chew on it for a minute. Maybe I’d be better off in Minn-e-fuckin-sota. I toss the straw on the bar and walk back to the table where I left Liv.

  “I thought you went for another drink,” Liv says when I return empty handed.

  “What? Oh, I did.” The words stumble out as I glance up to the dance floor where Jake is grinding seductively into a petite brunette. I seriously messed up in a past life or something. He’s pawing her like a nursing kitten, and I gag. I might have even thrown up in my mouth a little.

  Liv stands, tugging her skirt down.

  I shake my head and smile. Why even bother?

  “I’m going to run to the little girl’s room. You want to come with me?” she asks.

  “No, I’ll stay here and save our table.”

  Truthfully, I’m staying to torture myself by watching Jake and Little Miss Brunette bump and grind. I think all the time about why I’m no longer with Jake. He grabs the ass of Scantily Dressed Brunette Barbie, and I try not to gag again. While I observe him, I realize a sweet little girlfriend is obviously not what Jake wants. Neither is “notes-in-his-locker girlfriend,” “giving-up-sex-anytime-he- wants-it girlfriend,” or “agreeing-to-move-away-from-my-friends-for-him girlfriend”. I don’t know what he wants, but it’s not me, and I accept that. I loathe him for it, but I accept it.

  More of my unruly hair falls in my face. “Damn layers.” Great, now I’m mumbling to myself.

  I abandon the cute messy-bun idea, and rip the elastic from my head. My hair falls and I don’t even care what it looks like. Briefly, I consider flicking the rubber band at Jake’s face, but ultimately decide to be more mature than that.

  While I stalk Jake from my stool, I’m reminded of Brady. Why in the hell I allocate any space in my brain for him, I have no idea. Actually, I do. A good old-fashioned schoolgirl’s crush is the reason. Problem is, I’m no longer a schoolgirl.

  Liv smacks another Long Island down on the table. “Since you didn’t get one earlier and mine was finished, I thought I’d bring you one.”

  I don’t bother to correct her. Liquor is courage, right? I can use all the courage available to me right now. Even though I already have a good buzz going from the previous two drinks, I finish the third in no time flat. I’m feeling no pain.

  My eyes sweep over the crowd in front of me, and I’m relieved that Jake and his playmate are no longer occupying space on the dance floor. I think I might be drunk. “Let’s dance, Livvy.” I stand up, grab her hands, and pull her up with me. Yep, I’m definitely drunk, because I don’t dance.

  Liv howls. “Holy shit! I never thought I’d see the day when you wanted to dance before me. Lead the way, girly.”

  Liv and I steer through the enormous crowd. A few sweaty bodies bump into us. Wetness on my exposed arms causes me to mentally heave, but alcohol quickly removes the disgust and encourages me to keep moving. When we find a place to stop, I let the music carry me away from my thoughts of Jake and Liv’s ass of a brother. I bask in the drowsy calm the alcohol creates in my body, and succumb to the beckoning of the rhythm. I release all of my inhibitions, and sway my hips in time with the music. I’m sure it’s not pretty to watch, but alcohol holds my mind hostage, and traps me in the moment. It’s liberating.

  Before much time passes, a couple of guys join us. They
try talking, but between the pounding bass and my swirling thoughts, I can’t hear them. One of them snakes an arm around Liv’s waist. I watch a horny grin sneak up the sides of Liv’s mouth. She definitely likes the one groping her, but then again, Liv loves all guys.

  The other guy comes up behind me. His arms circle my waist, and his palms flatten against my belly. He starts to dance, and I rest my head against his chest. While he controls our movements, I start to drift away, again.

  Liv whispers in my ear. She and her new friend are going to find a dark corner. I smile my okay, at the same time mouthing be careful.

  An unfamiliar voice fills my ear as I watch her walk away. Oh shit! I forgot I’m attached to a strange guy. “You want me to get you a drink?”

  What the hell. I’m already drunk. “Sure.”

  My hips continue swinging to the beat, and I close my eyes.

  “What’ll you have?” I barely hear him over the bass in the song.

  “Long Island,” I reply.

  “I’ll be right back.” When his warm breath enters my ear, I recoil. My intuition screams he’s a creep, but my foggy brain ignores it.

  While he’s gone, I continue to dance, if you can call it that. Atrocious cologne lingers in the air. It’s bitter on my tongue, and I try to scrape it away with my teeth. I’m a little tipsy – okay, the dizziness started a while ago – but it’s downright overwhelming now. Three drinks is my limit, and that is over several hours, not twenty minutes.

  Brady

  When I exit the restroom and return to the bar, I don’t see Tori or my sister. All the clubs in this town, and Tori and I end up in the same place, as though she’s destined to torment me.

  Where the hell did they go?

  My heart is still sputtering after seeing Tori with Jake earlier; his closeness not only painful, but rage-inducing. Every ounce of self-control I have is being put to the test tonight, because my instincts want nothing more than to pound his cheating face. His arrogance astounds me. How can he think it’s acceptable to speak to Tori after what he’s done to her? As I remember how close he got to her lips, I nearly lose it. The reaction Liv had to him was priceless. I’m proud of my little sister for handling it and sticking up for Tori.