The Rebel of Raleigh High (Raleigh Rebels #1)(34)

“You’re right. I told you that you were a means to an end in the bathroom, that I wasn’t interested in you, and that wasn’t true. I am not trying to use you as a source of entertainment, though. I’m trying to figure you out. I’m intrigued by you.”

“Why the hell would I intrigue you, for Christ’s sake?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re still standing. Because, after everything you went through, you didn’t fucking break.”

He’s so close to me now. Closer than he’s ever been before. I’m unsteady on my feet, and my heart is rioting against my ribs, as though it’s trying to break free from its cage and flee the scene of a crime.

“Strength is drawn to strength, Silver, and I think there’s a chance that you might be the strongest person I have ever met.” His warm breath skates over my collar bone and the shiver that follows doesn’t just slide over my skin—it sinks deep down into the marrow of my bones. With excruciatingly slow movements, Alex reaches out a tentative hand and takes hold of the curl of hair that’s fallen free from my sloppy ponytail. He gently winds it around the end of his finger, pupils blown, his lips parted, fixated on his finger and my hair that’s wrapped around it. He whispers the words that follow. “It isn’t just that. I also happen to think that you’re the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. I am watching you just as much as you’re watching me…and I don’t trust myself to look away.”

Ho…ly….shiiiiiiit.

I am seventeen-years-old. The world is changing around me so rapidly that I worry I might never find my place in it. Just a few short years ago, I was so sure of everything. I loved boybands, and horses, drawing and playing my guitar. Then, almost overnight, nothing was certain anymore, and things I thought I knew to be true no longer were. It was as though I was a caterpillar, happy, learning and growing, and then without warning I began to transform into something else. There has been no chrysalis, though, no cocoon to hide away inside, safe, until I’m ready to reemerge into the world, new and fresh and complete. No, all of my transformations have taken place out in the open, in public, for all to see, and the process has been horrific.

In the past year alone, I’ve had to endure more trauma and heartache than most people are asked to endure in their entire lifetimes. Something precious was taken from me, ripped away, stolen with greedy hands and whiskey-soaked breath, and I felt it inside me—that bottomless, dark chasm that swallowed any hope of me ever having a normal teenage life. I’ve believed, since the moment I rolled over onto my side on the bathroom floor of Leon Wickman’s father’s bathroom with my insides all torn up, blood making the insides of my thighs sticky, the smell of copper hanging heavy in the air, that I would never be capable of feeling affection for a guy ever again.

And yet…

Here I am, seventeen-years-old, unbroken…and the way Alex Moretti is looking at me now has kindled something in the hollow of my chest that I thought had perished.

Alex swallows, his eyes on fire, and I can read his intentions on his face: he’s going to kiss me. He’s going to press his mouth on mine, and he’s going to bury his hands into my hair, and he’s going to steal my breath, and my heart and the tattered remnants of my fragile soul…and I’m going to let him, because I’m intrigued by him, too, and—

“Get out.”

I hate the words even as I whisper them, but I can’t. I can’t fucking do this.

Alex’s eyes, half lowered, open wide at the command. He immediately takes a step back. Next thing I know, he’s sliding on his leather jacket, which has been sitting on Dad’s workbench this entire time, and he’s leaving the garage. He swings his leg over his motorcycle and then sits there for a second, staring at me. “I’m not going to force you to fall for me, Silver. You’ve already been forced to do too much. But don’t blame me if I try and change your mind.”

“You’ve got more chance of pulling down the moon.” My throat throbs, aching against the words, but they’re the truth.

Alex turns the key in the ignition, and the motorcycle’s engine roars to life. The single beam of its headlight feels like a tractor beam, pulling me toward him, tugging at the very cells of my body, but I stay absolutely still as he backs down the driveway, out onto the street, and rides off into the rain.





14





ALEX





Another shift at the Rock. Halliday doesn’t show, which is a relief. I don’t want to deal with anyone from Raleigh right now, least of all a member of Kacey Winters’ Sirens. Montgomery has me make a run for him just before midnight. I hand off the bag and accept the envelope all without looking up at the person I’m making the deal with. I don’t want any faces sticking in my memory, and this has never felt good to me. I don’t know what’s in the bag, but it’s probably drugs. Coke, maybe. Hopefully not meth or heroine. I don’t like the idea of being Monty’s mule any more than I like the idea of losing out on the cash if I tell him I won’t do it anymore, so I try and get the job done as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Monty gives me a six-pack and my own little envelope containing our agreed upon amount. Once my shift's over and I'm back at the trailer, the green neon digits of the alarm clock next to the T.V. reading two twenty-three in the morning, I squirrel the envelope away in the box behind the water heater. Then, I drink the six-pack in silence, staring at the static on the television screen, thinking about Silver. The over-sized t-shirts she wears are a shield. A defense. She uses all that extra fabric to hide her body from hungry eyes. I should know—I couldn't take mine off her when I saw her in that black lacey number she was sporting yesterday. She wore that for me, to impress me, to catch my attention, and when she got it…