The Game (That Girl, #2)(24)

“People aren’t good. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to know.”

“Jazzy, what did you do?” he asks.

“It’s what I do when I hurt.” I pause and clench my eyes shut. “I think I want to love you.”

I take Levi’s hand and cover my fresh cut, squeezing it down onto the wound. I want to feel his skin in my pain and remember this moment forever.

“Lyn,” comes a deep, unfamiliar voice. “Lyn, where the f*ck you at, girl?’

A real life giant rounds the couch and joins the three of us in the living room. I wonder if I’ve passed out or started hallucinating, because this man is huge. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did he lose his beanstalk? Now I know I’m dreaming.

“Get the f*ck out now,” he roars.

“I’m not leaving.” I know that is Levi’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.

“I’m saying this one time, Levi. You are leaving. Your brother told me I’m not allowed to lay a hand on you because your f*cking face is going to be pounded by his ass,” the giant roars. “So get the f*ck up and get the f*ck out now.”

Bro code? Man Code? * football code? Levi gets up and begins to walk away.

“I’d love you.”

I meant for it to come out as a whisper, but instead it came across as a desperate plea.

“Lyns, you okay?” comes the giant’s voice.

“I’m fine.”

Tears fill Lynlee’s voice. I don’t even need to turn my head to witness it for myself. She continues to talk to the giant while all I can think about is grabbing another piece of glass. The high from my last cut is wearing off, and with Levi’s presence gone, I’m f*cked. I try to bend over and reach out for a piece, not even caring this time about its size, width, or length.

“Your hands are humongous,” I blurt out as I see a set of hands swoop in front of me.

In the next moments, I’m lifted into the air, and the only sound filling the air is two sets of feet crunching through a room full of shattered glass. Panic sets in, and it’s not panic from being moved by a giant stranger. No, it’s the panic of the high wearing off. It’s the few dreaded minutes when you realize the high is leaving quickly, and you don’t have a drug nearby to fulfill it. All your emotions and feelings slowly fade back to their normal routine, and your head clogs with shit, but you fight and scrap to get the high back. Anything. I’d do anything to feel Levi again.

“Get in the truck,” the deep voice sounds once again.

I can only concentrate on my panic and pray I pass out at the same time. I need relief.

“Linc said to stay.”

“Get the f*ck in, Lynlee.”

“Okay, Tiny.”

Did she just say Tiny?

“Did you call him Tiny?” I ask.

I feel Lynlee’s hand pet my hair from my face and then rhythmically run down my back. “Yes, Jazzy, this is Tiny. Lincoln’s best friend. They played football…”

Between the petting, the roar of the older truck we are riding in, and Lynlee’s familiar voice, I fall hard asleep.

***

“She lost it when Levi threw his raging-ass fit. I mean, Lincoln has explained these to me, but I’ve never seen that side of him before. Not even a hint of it.” I recognize Lynlee’s voice retelling the whole story. I have no idea how much time has elapsed or even where my body is lying. All I can recollect is Levi’s angry face seething hatred toward me.

Lynlee’s voice continues to tell the story, so I decide to listen, hoping I can put together some pieces. “Linc was on the phone the whole time, and then Levi came back, and when Tiny walked in I almost screamed. I had no idea what was about to go down.”

I try to pry my eyes open, and when I finally convince them to work with me, I scan the room for a clock. All the while trying to avoid any large body movements which would signal my being awake, I finally spot one and realize it’s already evening. There’s a bit of sun shining through the window with a glowing sunset just on the verge of happening.

Then two unfamiliar voices chime in. One, way more air-headed than the other. They both throw in their two cents, and of course they agree Levi is a raging dickhead, and all I can focus on is our day at the pond. Why can everyone only see that one side of him? I see all of the man, and that’s exactly my problem—the day he was home. His 1205 Nevada Street. That’s the Levi I know and love. Love?

I feel the twinge of pain on my stomach, immediately recognizing the torn, raw flesh rubbing against my shirt. This pain is familiar and has become my addiction to cope with reality. No one has ever witnessed me in the middle of cutting, and no one has even seen the scars covering my stomach. This habit started after I lost my dad and baby, and had no one to turn to. It always happened on the nights when the alcohol wasn’t enough to dull the pain, and my baby’s face wouldn’t quit haunting my thoughts. It was my way to cope.

***

Levi



She’s gone, and the wrath of my temper is left behind. A disaster. I can’t stand the look of the guesthouse, so I turn and walk out. I’ll have it cleaned immediately. I’ve never hurt anyone like I did Jazzy. Well, hell, I probably have, but I’ve never stayed around long enough to witness the tears. And, let’s be honest, it was probably just a schoolgirl crushing on me and wanting another night on the Wilks Express.