Home > Up to Me (The Bad Boys #2)(45)

Up to Me (The Bad Boys #2)(45)
Author: M. Leighton

“Who the hell was that?” Nash asks.

“You don’t want to know,” Cash replies.

“I heard that,” Ginger chimes in from the garage, her voice echoing back to us.  I hear her mumble something else a few seconds before another voice sounds.

“Hello?”

Marissa.

Oh shit!

I hear a light knock, like she rapped on the doorframe with her knuckles.  I look to Cash and he sighs heavily through thinned lips.  “Dammit!” I hear him mutter.  “Couldn’t you people have called?” he says testily.

“I’m sorry,” I hear Marissa say.  “I was looking for…him.”  I imagine her indicating Nash.  He’s the only “him” in the room other than Cash.

“Fine,” Cash says abruptly.  “You found him.  Why don’t you two take the office?  You can have some privacy.”  I see him trying to push Nash out of the way and shut the door, but not before Marissa gets into the apartment far enough to see into the bedroom.  In to where I’m still lying naked in the bed, covered only in a rumpled sheet.

She looks in and I see a frown flicker across her forehead before she rushes past Cash toward me.  She launches herself at the bed, throwing her arms around my neck.  I’m stunned, of course, and left wondering what’s going on while I try to keep myself covered.  The room is far too full for my current state of undress.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmurs against my neck.  I feel her body shake. It takes me a minute to realize she’s silently sobbing.

“Marissa, what’s wrong?”  I ask this more out of shock than any real concern.  My cousin has been a royal bitch since birth and any love between us died about six months thereafter.

She leans away and looks back at me with huge, watery blue eyes.  The most puzzling thing is that they seem to be sincere huge, watery blue eyes.

“I was so afraid for you. I heard them talking about killing you.  Both of us.  All of us,” she says, turning to look back at the twins, standing quietly in the doorway.  “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.  And all I could think about was sending you to that damned art exhibition wearing that stupid dress.”

I’m dumbstruck. And completely suspicious.  I’m adult enough to admit it.  This girl, who I’ve often fantasized about scalping or setting on fire or dying purple, suddenly gets nice?  Um, I don’t think so.

“I know you probably think I’m crazy.  Or making it up.  But I swear to you, Liv, you were all I could think about.”  Her lip starts to tremble and her eyes fill with more tears.  “You’ve always been good to me, always been such a sweet person and I’ve always treated you like nothing.  And I’m so sorry.  All my life, I’ve been surrounded by people just like me.  People who probably couldn’t care less if I disappeared. And that includes Daddy.  What I needed most was to be surrounded by people just like you.”  She pauses and swallows hard, tears streaming down her face.  “I don’t want to be that person anymore, Liv.  Can you ever forgive me?”

Holy cousin of brain damage!  Marissa’s had a stroke.

That’s the only plausible explanation.  The. Only. One. People like her don’t suffer crises of conscience.  People like her don’t have changes of heart. People like her don’t have hearts period.

But as I look into her eyes, I’m struck again by how sincere she seems.  She appears to be genuinely contrite, genuinely distressed about this.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Marissa.  Don’t stress over it. I think you just need to go back home and get some rest.”

“No, I don’t.  I don’t need rest. I need to know you forgive me.  And then I need to talk to him,” she says, looking back over her shoulder at Nash.  I don’t think she’s even spared Cash a glance since she walked in.

I wonder what she thinks, what she knows.

“Where is my daughter?”

My heart sinks when I hear that voice.  I glance at Cash.  Even from across the room, I see him stiffen.

My first inclination is to hide under the covers.  That, of course, is not an option.  The best I can do is sit up nice and straight and take it like a woman, a woman who is old enough to make her own decisions.

Mom stops in the bedroom doorway and stares at both Cash and Nash. It’s a withering glare that would make my balls shrivel. If I had any, that is.  I guess I’m having sympathy ball shriveling.  It’s not a good feeling.

Nash steps slightly to the side, giving her a wide berth as she enters the room.  Cash doesn’t move at all, but to extend his hand.

“I’m Cash Davenport. You must be Olivia’s mother.”

“And why must I be?  I’m sure she’s told you nothing about me.  If she had, you’d know better than to pull a stunt like this with my daughter.”

“It’s enough that I know your daughter.  It speaks highly of you that you gave birth to and helped raise someone like her.”

“If you think so much of my daughter, why is she in this position?”

“She’s in this position because she’s a good person who wanted to help someone.  Who wanted to help me.  She’s here because I’m trying to keep her safe.”

“Well, you’ve done a bang up job so far,” my mother snaps, pushing past him and making her way to me.  I see Cash’s jaw clench before my chin is in my mother’s palm, my face being examined.  “Are you hurt?”

“No, Mom.  I’m fine.  Cash and Gavin found me and took care of everything.”

“Cash, Gavin, Gabe.  Where do you meet this trash?  I thought getting out of Salt Springs would be good for you, but you might just be the kind of girl that falls for this…type no matter where you live.”

“Mom, I didn’t—”

“I see that Olivia’s mother made it.”  I peek around my mother. Gavin has appeared in the bedroom doorway as well.

Next time I’m having an impromptu toga party so I can be the only appropriately dressed person in the room.

“And you!  You’re the one that got her in this mess in the first place. If you’d simply driven her to school like she’d asked you to do…”

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