Deeply Destructive (Addicted To You, Book Four) Page 2

  Justin took a step back and sighed. “Probably time to get back to real life, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I said. But I didn’t mean it. I was disappointed. I didn’t want to go back to the dorms. I didn’t want to be away from him. Still, I knew we couldn’t spend every moment together. That would be crazy.

  “I mean, you can stay here, of course. We could –”

  “No, no,” I said quickly, not wanting him to think I was some kind of crazy stalker. “You’re right. I should get back to school. I have a lot of work to do, anyway.”

  Which was true. I did have work to do and a real life to get back to—didn’t I? I was unsure, suddenly, what really mattered and what didn’t.

  He nodded, then went to his room and returned with my hoodie.

  “I hope Gil’s going to be okay,” I said as I slipped it on.

  “Gil’s going to be fine,” he said. “Trust me, he’s been through worse.”

  I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but I nodded. “Okay, well, um…” I didn’t know what to say. Text me later? Call me later?

  “I’ll text you later,” he said. We were at the front door now, and he opened it for me.

  “Okay,” I said. I turned around and gave him a little wave. “Bye, Justin.”

  “Bye, Lindsay.”

  He smiled that perfect smile at me, and I practically skipped to the T station. Yes, I had hours of work waiting for me back at my dorm, along with a roommate who was probably going to give me the third degree about where I’d been and what I was doing, not to mention the whole Adam situation.

  But none of that mattered.

  All that mattered was Justin, and the giddy feeling that was staying with me, even after I’d left his apartment.

  JUSTIN

  Gilbert was asleep again when I went in to check on him after Lindsay left. He looked pale and old, like he’d aged ten years in the last few days. He stirred a little as I was standing over him, opened one eye and looked up at me. Gil’s mouth stretched into a slow grin. “Am I in hell or did they just find the ugliest angel to watch over me?”

  I crossed my arms. “There’s nothing funny about what happened last night. Do you even remember?” I’d been nice when I’d checked on him this morning, but the time for me to be understanding was over.

  He yawned and made a face. “Actually, I don’t remember much.” He tried to sit up. “I’m dizzy. Shit.” He lied down again. “I feel like crap.”

  “You need to stay clean, Gil. You’re going to die.”

  He looked up at me, this time with both eyes open. “Don’t you think I’ve tried, JB? It feels like every day takes a year to go by, and it never gets better. It’s just another day where I try to survive the sickness I’m feeling.”

  “It will get better. You just have to trust…”

  “Trust what?”

  “Trust me,” I said, looking down at him. “I’m promising you it will get better.”

  He shivered, closed his eyes. “I do trust you, JB. You’re the only one left. The only person who hasn’t given up on me yet.”

  “I’ll never give up on you,” I told him.

  I felt my phone vibrate, and the first thing I thought was that Lindsay was texting me. I started to smile as I anticipated what she might have written.

  Hopefully something sexy.

  I checked my phone and my smile faded. It was a text from Coach Jansen.

  I want to talk to you. Meet me in an hour at Suffolk Downs Raceway.

  Not exactly what I was hoping for. And I wasn’t at all sure why he would ask me to meet him at the track instead of at the gym. Was I still kicked out of the gym, even though Drew Ellis had just told me he wanted me to be training hard for my next fight?

  “Nothing’s ever easy,” Gil muttered from the floor.

  I glanced down at him. “That’s right. But you won’t appreciate anything unless you work hard to get it.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he groaned, and rolled over.

  “Look, I’ve got to head out for a little bit.” I waited for Gil to respond to that, but he didn’t say anything. “If you wake up and get hungry, there’s some stuff in the fridge.

  Just wait here until I get home, okay?”

  Gil just groaned and seemed to curl his body up even further, as if trying to escape my voice.

  I shook my head, hating to see my best friend acting like something out of a bad TV movie of the week. I couldn’t forget the way Gil used to be, the kid who had given speeches before big wrestling meets, who had trained harder than everyone else, who had been smarter and funnier than anyone I knew.

  He was supposed to be inspiring me, helping me, keeping me on the straight and narrow—but now I was on my own, trying to look out for him and me both. I consoled myself with the fact that he was going to be okay. At least this time.

  As I went to get dressed for the day, it occurred to me that life really could twist and turn in some unexpected directions. And that made me think of Lindsay.

  I pulled a t-shirt over my head and grabbed a pair of jeans from my closet, remembering how we’d been in my bed together not so long ago. Her body had been inches from mine and I had barely been able to restrain myself from ripping her clothes off.

  She had a body that was built for sex—anyone could see that. Underneath that goody two shoes vibe, I knew there was a wild girl just waiting to come out. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in the way she sometimes touched me, the way her mouth opened a certain way when I caressed her and held her.

  It drove me insane that I’d made a vow not to get romantically involved with her.

  I kept asking myself what the big deal was, why couldn’t I just screw her and get it over with?

  I examined my face in the mirror, noting that the cut over my eye was already substantially better than it had been even a day ago. In four or five days, I could probably do some light contact sparring if I was careful.

  What I really wanted to do was some heavy contact with Lindsay. I wanted to climb on top of her and inside of her, I wanted to let her know what I was feeling in ways she could never mistake—show her how badly I wanted her.

  But something kept holding me back. No matter how much I wanted her, no matter how much I was tempted by the flashes of skin, the lure of her perfect breasts, her tight ass, those legs that went on forever—I couldn’t bring myself to do something that I knew would ultimately hurt her.

  Lindsay had big goals in life, that’s why she was going to Cambridge University and not Bunker Hill Community College. Not that there was anything wrong with community college, but girls like Lindsay didn’t attend that sort of place. She was going to do amazing things that an ordinary person couldn’t even imagine. I wasn’t going to mess that up for her.

  I had my own big plans, and those were most definitely not compatible with the kind of life Lindsay was trying to make for herself.

  Speaking of big plans, I needed to get out to the track before Coach Jansen had yet another reason to be pissed off at me.

  ***

  I hadn’t been to Suffolk Downs in years. I used to go all the time with my dad when I was little, and at the time I’d thought it was the coolest thing in the world.

  Everybody at the track knew him, and he knew them. They even called him “the mayor,”

  and I’d thought that was so awesome—almost like my dad really was the mayor, and not just some burnout that had gambled away every dime he’d ever made.

  Walking from the train to the track brought back so many memories of those old times. I could practically smell the smoky gray coat my dad always wore, could almost feel his rough hand holding mine as we made our way to the racetrack together.

  I was broken out of my memories when I saw Coach Jansen standing by the entrance to the clubhouse, waiting for me.

  I still had no idea why he wanted me to meet him there. He’d never seemed like the gambling type, but then again, you never really knew what people did in their private lives.
<
br />   “Thanks for coming,” he said as I got closer.

  “No problem. Kind of an unexpected invitation,” I said, smiling, trying to read his intentions as he looked back at me.

  His face was serious, as usual. “Come on. I already put a bet in on this race, let’s go outside and watch them run.”

  “Okay.”

  He handed me a ticket and I saw that he’d put down four dollars on the number eight horse, Happy Wanderer, at six-to-one odds.

  We went out to the stands and sat down next to the other degenerates, who were already clapping and screaming. Funny how those familiar sounds brought back so many happy memories, even though I knew better now. All of those times that I’d thought my dad was bringing me somewhere happy, somewhere positive, and it had all been one big lie.

  I let my eyes comb through the people around me, making sure he wasn’t there. It was possible he had a bet in on this very race, and he would be shaking his fist and yelling right along with the others.

  “So, I obviously brought you here for a reason,” Jansen said, as they led the horses to the starting gate.

  “Obviously,” I said. “Unless you just wanted my help handicapping the races.” I took the racing form out of his hand and looked at the stats for the race.

  “I didn’t know you bet the ponies,” he replied.

  “I don’t.” I smiled at what I was seeing on the racing form. “You’re getting six-to-one on Happy Wanderer, but from what I’m seeing, she’s ten-to-one at best. She hasn’t had a win over six furlongs and this is a seven-furlong race. Also, she’s a classic frontrunner and they’ve got her on the outside lane, which makes it even less likely that she’ll get off to a good start.”

  I handed the form back to him and he just stared at me. “What are you, fucking Rain Man or something?”

  “My dad used to bring me here all the time.”

  “Oh.” Jansen sighed. “And here I was, thinking I was going to teach you something.”

  “That’s what this is about? You’re teaching me something?”

  A moment later, the starting gun fired and the horses exploded from their gates, hooves pounding on the track, kicking up clumps of dirt as they raced.

  “Shit, Happy Wanderer came out slow,” Jansen said.

  The eight horse was already four back going into the first turn. “She’ll be lucky to even show,” I told him.

  He glanced at me. “You’re a smart kid, JB. Maybe too smart for your own good.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

  He looked down at his feet. “Maybe I can’t teach you anything about horse racing that you don’t already know. But what do you know about greyhounds?”

  “Not much. My dad hated going to the dog track. He said there was no skill in betting on dogs.”

  “Maybe he was right,” Jansen said. “And maybe that has to do with how they treat the animals.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Greyhounds are treated terribly and they race them into the ground. Within a few years or less, they become financially worthless and the owners put them down.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, it is. And you know, in MMA right now, there are a lot of organizations and training teams that treat their fighters like greyhounds. Or worse.”

  I looked at him, still unsure of his point. “And?”

  “And,” he said, finally looking me in the eye, “I won’t do that to you.”

  “Thanks. I mean, I appreciate that, but I don’t know why we came here—”

  “I’m not giving you the fight next month.” He said it so fast that I almost couldn’t process it.

  The crowd erupted as the horses came down the stretch, with Happy Wanderer coming in sixth. People around us threw tickets on the ground, cursing luck and fate as they dispersed to bet on the next race.

  I shut my eyes and tried to calm my suddenly fast beating heart. “You’re not giving me the fight?” I opened my eyes and looked at him again. “Because of that little scuffle between me and Uriah?”

  “No,” he said. “At least, that’s not the main reason. I just don’t think you’re ready yet to go to the UFF. Physically, you’re great, but you need more time to get emotionally ready.”

  “You’re taking away my shot?” I frowned, as if not believing the words when they left my mouth.

  “I can’t do something that I think would harm your career in the long run. I’ve given it a lot of thought, JB.”

  “Drew Ellis wants me to sign the deal. He told me so himself.”

  “But after meeting you, he was worried. He told me you seemed like a loose cannon.”

  “Like there aren’t any loose cannons in the UFF right now?” I scoffed. “It’s not the chess club. We get in a cage and beat the shit out of each other.”

  “I know that,” Coach said, his voice rising to match mine. “But you could be great—a champion—if you’re developed and coached properly. Not every fighter has your potential, JB. If you were just some average kid who would be lucky to squeak out a couple of wins as a pro, I’d walk you over to Drew’s office right now and have you sign on the dotted line. But you’re not average. You’ve got special talent.”

  “So special that you’re taking something away from me that means everything.” I stood up. “You brought me here to try and prove a point, but you’ve got no point.”

  “I’m your coach,” he said, his eyes growing intense, as he stood up to face me.

  “And I’m trying to protect you, but you’re too goddamn stubborn and stupid to realize it.”

  “I’m stupid?” I spit the words out, wanting to slap him hard, just to show him I could. Then the feeling passed and I relaxed a tiny bit. “That’s funny. I thought you said I was too smart for my own good.” I turned and started to walk away.

  “Get back here, JB. I’m not done talking to you.”

  I turned around, smiling a little, but my stomach was burning with hate. “I have nothing left to say. Oh, yeah, except this. I quit.”

  I never looked back after that.

  ***

  I’m not sure how long I wandered the streets near the racetrack, my mind a blank.

  I walked and walked, feeling numb and shocked and then a dull anger started to pulse in my stomach, like I’d swallowed a hot coal that was just sitting and burning inside me.

  Eventually, I found myself in front of the AMC Movie Theatre. I wasn’t even sure how I ended up there, but I suddenly realized that I wanted to go inside. I wanted to sit in the darkness with the flickering light from the projector and the big screen and nothing to do.

  And then I realized something else.

  I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text.

  Want to come see a movie with me?

  I just hoped that she wasn’t busy with schoolwork or something.

  Finally, about a minute later, she responded. Tonight?

  I typed back. No. Today. Come now.

  Fine. I guess I’m just your beck and call girl. ;) Grinning at Lindsay’s last response, I texted the address to her and told her I’d be waiting out front.

  I went and purchased two tickets to some Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Gossling movie that was starting in the next five minutes. We’d probably miss the beginning, but everything else was starting an hour from now, or had already been running for too long.

  After getting the tickets, I sat on a bench and watched the pedestrians and cars going by me, trying my best not to dwell on the fact that everything I’d been working toward for the last few years of my life had so quickly come crumbling down around me.

  What had I done to cause Coach Jansen to change his mind about giving me a shot to fight in the UFF? Nothing. He’d even admitted that the little skirmish with Uriah hadn’t been the cause of his hesitation. He’d just pulled the rug out from underneath me for no good reason.

  It wasn’t fair. This was my life he was playing with. After all, who knew if I’d ever get another chance to s
ign a deal?

  A little while later, I saw Lindsay walking toward me. Instantly, I felt a million times better. She was wearing a pair of shorts that rode low on her hips and one of those little Pink t-shirts that seemed to push her tits out as if she was daring me to stare. And I did stare a little bit, because I was thinking about dragging her inside the first cab and heading back to my apartment so I could do the dirtiest things imaginable to her.

  “Hey,” she said. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  I forced my eyes away from her chest. And then my eyes went to those hips again…and why was it that I was almost certain her hips could work overtime if we got in the right (or wrong) situation together?

  She’s off-limits. OFF-LIMITS.

  “I’m just having a really weird day,” I said, trying to snap myself back to reality and away from my twisted thoughts.

  “What’s so weird about your day?” she asked me.

  “We don’t have time for long explanations,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s get in the theater, the movie’s already started.”

  We gave our tickets to the attendant and then I was walking quickly toward theatre nine, still holding Lindsay’s hand. She was laughing as I pulled her along.

  “You’re going too fast, Justin!”

  “Come on, they’re going to lock us out!” I said, pretending to panic.

  “No they’re not. Besides, I want to get soda and something to eat.”

  I stopped. “Are you serious? We’re late.”

  “I don’t care. Movies aren’t fun without snacks.” She made a sad face.

  “Stop being so damn cute,” I told her, and then walked to the concessions stand with her.

  The teenage girl at the counter looked expectantly at us. “Can I help you?”

  I looked at Lindsay. “You’re the snack connoisseur,” I said. “Tell her what you want. It’s on me.”

  “You don’t have to pay,” Lindsay said. “I brought money.”