Heartbreak Hotel (Dark Friends-to-Lovers) Page 3

  “You should come by and say hello.”

  “I will.”

  I smiled. “And how’s your brothers?”

  The Barron boys had a reputation in the keys for breaking girls’ hearts. All four had those piercing blue eyes and drop dead gorgeous faces. Rich and rambunctious, they remained in trouble whenever they visited. When people heard the Barron boys were in town, fathers locked up their daughters and the bars ordered extra alcohol.

  Hawk was the only one that was shy and peaceful. He’d been overweight and obsessed with comics and video games. Hawk was the only Barron boy Victor would let me hang around with.

  Hawk took a sip of his wine. “My brothers are my brothers. Still the same, but now the world is their playground. Brett’s here. River is on tour in Europe. Stone tagged along to help River with his groupies.”

  “Stone’s always been a good Samaritan.”

  “That’s one way to describe him.”

  “I follow River on Facebook. I love his music.” I tried to think back to any news I’d heard on Stone and drew a blank.

  Hawk turned to me. “How long will you be here, Cherry Bomb?”

  I giggled at the old nickname. “I have no idea.”

  He frowned. “None?”

  “There’s no set time. I’ll be here until I’m done healing...and probably when I finish writing a novel that’s due to my publisher next month.”

  “Of course, you’re a writer.” He gestured to the gown. “Now everything is making more sense. So, you’re here to heal?”

  “Pretty much. Every time I get knocked down in life, I come back here, work it out, and get back on my two feet to race after my destiny again.”

  “Good. I hope you get there.”

  Silence hit us for a minute.

  He cleared his throat. “Make sure you come by the house this week and I’ll open a bottle of wine. We’ll talk about anything you want.” He paused. “Any time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  A good explanation left my tongue. There was just so much heat radiating from him. My intuition screamed at me to stay away. I loved too much. It had always been my problem. I was in a weak position right now. The old me thought the best way to get over a man was to jump in bed with another. The more mature me knew that time healed wounds.

  Hanging with Hawk would be fun, but it wouldn’t be like the brotherly-sisterly moments from the past. We weren’t kids anymore. He’d become this pulsing man of muscle and gorgeousness. A few moments with him alone and I would want to see how hot he could get, how delicious he could taste. He would be a sexy distraction that would shift into my falling in love. Where some women could sleep with a guy and not catch feelings, I hadn’t learned that trick yet. It was better to keep my distance.

  Or am I just being a punk ass? All scared to be around men.

  “I wasn’t asking you on a date,” he said out of nowhere. “That’s not my thing.”

  I quirked my eyebrows. “Dating isn’t your thing?”

  “No.”

  I shook my head. “Well, I didn’t think you were asking me out.”

  “I just wanted you to make sure. I like to keep everything out in the open.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I have a line that I always tell the woman I’m seeing.”

  “Okay. This is going to be good.” I giggled. “You have to tell me the line.”

  “Here it goes.” His face shifted to a cold mask. “‘I would be your death wish. You should guard your heart when you’re around me.’”

  “Wow. Can I be honest?”

  “Of course.”

  “To me that’s cheesy and depressing all at once.” I shrugged. “And what’s the typical response?”

  His mask fell away. “They usually think I’m playing.”

  “I would’ve probably ran.”

  “You’re smart.”

  The noise of a bus sounded off in the distance. I looked over my shoulder and figured my sister’s guests had returned. “I should get back and change. I promised to help my sister and the chef with dinner tonight.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  “Hmmm. That depends.” I put my hand on my hip. “Michael Jackson or Prince?”

  “No. Last time I answered that, you threw a slice of purple cake at me.”

  “You answered wrong.”

  “Was that how it went?”

  “Yes.” I checked behind us. The bus had pulled up to the front of the house. Guests had begun departing the big vehicle.

  “Well...I have to go.” I put everything back in the bag. “I’m glad I saw you, Hawkins... I mean, Hawk.”

  He helped me put out the fire until it was gone. “Do you need me to carry anything?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  He rose with a frown on his face. “Then, I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, you will. And next time, I’ll make sure to guard my heart.” I winked at him.

  He smiled. “Good.”

  Chapter 2

  Hawk

  The sun began to set.

  Dad grilled steaks in the back. Victor had just dragged out another pack of beers.

  I didn’t know why grownups drank those things. It tasted like piss. And I knew what piss tasted like due to Brett pranking me one morning with his special Superman lemonade.

  Mom and Cindy sat on a stretched-out blanket on the sand. Brett did back flips in front of them as they took a sip of their champagne and giggled each time he did one.

  A few feet behind Mom, my younger brothers Stone and River focused on digging a gigantic hole in the sand. They’d been at it for an hour. God only knew what they had planned. Both dogs stayed clear of them.

  “What’s wrong?” The little girl with the black afro pouted at me. I was two years older than her, but next to me she looked even younger—all short and bony. I didn’t even know she was a girl until Mom told me her name was Yasmine.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said.

  “There is. You don’t want to be my friend?” she asked. “Do you?”

  I threw a rock at the ocean. It hit the surface and sank into the darkening water. “I have to be your friend.”

  It was so unfair! Brett and I were supposed to be playing pirates, but Mom told me to be nice to the neighbor girl because she’d just lost her parents. I didn’t kill them. Why do I have to play with a dumb girl? She couldn’t run fast. She couldn’t wrestle. I bet she didn’t like to get dirty and only wanted to play with dolls.

  In fact, the only good thing about her was her smell—oatmeal cookies. I think that was because she was always eating sweets. I heard her sister yelling at her everyday outside that she should stop sneaking her hand into the cookie jar.

  But why couldn’t Brett have been the one to play with her? Or maybe, Stone and River. Well...no, Stone and River would probably bury her.

  It was so unfair.

  Yasmine kicked at a shell with her toe. It rolled over. “Why do you have to be my friend?”

  I threw another rock. This time, I’d made it an inch past the first target. “I have to be your friend because my mom said that you’re sad.”

  “I’m not sad. I’m mad.” Frowning, she picked up a rock, copied my stance, and threw it just like me. The rock hit the surface farther than mine did. “I beat you.”

  I didn’t want to smile, but I did. “Yeah, but you can’t do that again.”

  “I bet I can.” She grabbed a cracked shell and slung it farther out, reaching beyond a distance that I’d ever thrown.

  I dropped my mouth open. “How did you do that?”

  She formed her little hands into a fist. “I can do it because I’m mad at God, so he’s giving me powers to make it up.”

  “Powers?” I turned to her in shock.

  Her afro was so wild. It moved on its own. Tangles of curls whipped and twirled along her tiny face. And under the moonlight, her eyes glowed and looked like windows to some cool land far away. />
  “Whoa,” I whispered. “You do have super powers.”

  She nodded. “I told you. God knows I’m mad.”

  “Will you forgive him?”

  Her eyes watered. “I don’t know.”

  In that moment, I thought it might be cool to be her friend. She did have super powers and I’d always wanted some. Maybe she could show me how to fly.

  She picked up another rock and slung it into the ocean. “I could be the most bestest super friend in the world to you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I know things.” Yaz pointed to the night sky. As the sun set, thousands of stars began to glitter above us. “I know where God’s light switch is to turn on all the stars.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” She walked to me and whispered in my ear. “God hid it in my heart.”

  I woke up in a cold sweat. The sheets clung to my wet skin. A cool breeze blew into my window, drying the sweat away. Sheer curtains swayed back and forth into a dance, letting the moonlight creep in and shadows twirl along my walls.

  What made me think of that night?

  I hadn’t dreamed of Yaz in years. Recently, I’d just had nightmares or didn’t sleep. That dream had been a memory about the first time I met her. Sure, I’d seen her around the beach. But it wasn’t until her parents died that Mom decided to adopt the Rolles.

  Yasmine’s parents died in that car accident and the next thing we knew, Mom always invited Cindy and Victor over for dinner or Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, or Sunday afternoon tea. There was one point when I thought Mom would just get on with it and ask them to live with us. She was that obsessed with helping them mourn. However, she’d lost her parents at a young age and I think a lot of old memories had returned to her.

  “I know where God’s light switch is to turn on all the stars.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. God hid it in my heart.”

  Yaz sold me on our friendship right there. She had indeed become my most bestest super friend. And during those years, she was a fascinating creature—always with an elaborate story that broke down the world—always taking me on an adventure in the ocean or a journey on sand where the beach grass grew tall above us and she claimed monsters lurked within.

  Yaz made me believe in God.

  “You do have super powers.”

  “I told you. God knows I’m mad.”

  “Will you forgive him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I stared at the ceiling and wondered if God knew I was mad at him too? Was that why he’d brought Yaz back into my life? What were the odds that all the times, when I’d come back to Key West and had never seen her, that this moment would be the one? That I would reunite with Yaz, when I needed her the most?

  I’d been a complete emotional mess after my ex-wife, Lisa—the Black Widow—had manipulated my mind and tortured me. Regardless of the physical pain she’d caused, the guilt was worse than the scars on my chest. Guilt ate at me. Every time I closed my eyes, her victims crowded my head—my friends. Guys that I’d brought around her—fraternity brothers, co-workers, and my best man. All dead by her hands. I’d resolved any financial problems for her victims’ families by anonymously starting a fund and donating several million dollars to it, but it wouldn’t bring the men back.

  They’re gone forever.

  “Hey!” Brett ducked his head in my bedroom. “Man, are you still asleep? It’s two in the afternoon.”

  “No, I’m just in bed.”

  “Still in bed? What the fuck?” He walked in, dressed in frayed jeans and a Nintendo t-shirt, completely unlike his usual business attire. His unshaven face was cast with the sullen shadow of a man who’d been drinking steadily for most of the afternoon. In fact, he held two beers in his hand and I didn’t think he was bringing me one.

  “We should be out on the ocean, man.” He drank from one can and then sipped from the other. “It’s fucking beautiful out there.” He set the beers on my nightstand. “And the women.” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “Oh my God. You better hurry up and get dressed before I run through all of them.”

  “I’m not worried. Have fun. My type never goes for you.”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s your type?”

  “Sane, smart, and breathing.”

  He offered me one of the beers he’d drank from.

  I waved him away. “I’m good.”

  “Get your ass up so we can play. Let’s go fucking sky diving or something. Jump into a fucking volcano. Kidnap a mermaid.”

  “You sound like a teenager.” I stretched my arms. “Are you going to be this way the whole time?”

  “The question is, are you going to be this way the whole time?”

  And with that, he chugged down one of his beers the same way he did in college.

  Jesus. Is he going through a midlife crisis? He just turned thirty. I thought that happened later.

  Presently, Brett was dealing with a divorce after three years of marriage to a woman he should have known better than to cheat on. I didn’t think he would find another amazing woman like Selene again. But then I’d married a serial killer so it wasn’t like I had great life advice.

  “Come on.” Right in front of me, Brett humped the air. “I. Am. Ready. To. Bang!”

  “Jesus, man.” I left the bed before him and his little penis could assault me. “Put that BB gun away before you shoot and hurt yourself.”

  Since the trial, Brett had unofficially assumed the job of taking care of me. But sometimes I wondered if I was more taking care of him. Brett was the oldest of us four. I was next and only two years younger. Stone and River were the babies, barely thirteen months apart. Most thought they were twins. Regardless, I was the most responsible of the bunch and had held the protector title for as long as I could walk. And now our new positions were hard to swallow—Brett, the protector and me, the victim. The broken. The weak.

  “Man, you missed a fucking good Duval crawl last night.” Brett crashed onto my bed as I rummaged in my drawers. “I must’ve hit up every damn bar on Duval Street.”

  “I heard. You had like a hundred people downstairs in the middle of the night.”

  “No one came up to bother you right?” Brett grabbed his other beer and chugged it down.

  “No.” I shook my head at him. “Take some breaks, man so you don’t get—”

  “Don’t even say it.”

  Mom always called it the Key Disease. The party life in the Keys tended to have a lengthy duration. People started putting out drinks early in the day and continuing late into the night. It didn’t help that the nightlife was crazy—luxury martini bars to salty dives, taverns and pubs. Everything stayed open until 4 a.m. Others shut down, when the last customer left. This usually meant dawn.

  Meanwhile, the DUI limit was .08 percent here, less than many other states. Even crazier, the DUI laws applied to all vehicles—scooters, boats, and bikes.

  “Don’t end up in jail,” I said.

  “I’m not going to get the Key Disease. And I think I can keep myself out of jail. I am the best lawyer on the east coast after all.”

  “Who gave you that title?”

  “Not the point.”

  “So, you gave it to yourself?”

  “I’m a smart guy.”

  I didn’t disagree. Throughout the NY corporate world, they called Brett “The Butcher.” And it wasn’t the fact that he looked like he could bench press a small car. Whether in the boardroom or in court, if anybody came against my family’s company, he slaughtered them and wore their flesh as a T-shirt. He dominated the business world. A lot of guys covered their balls when he entered the room.

  Although no one would ever figure that out if they looked at him now, fully embracing the Key’s life like he was a frat boy juiced up with steroids.

  “Saw you talking to Yaz last night,” Brett said. “That was her and not some other crazy red head, right?”

  “Yeah, it was her.”

  “S
o?”

  “Nothing.” I yawned.

  Concerned crossed over his face. “What was up with her burning stuff out there?”

  “She was doing a spell to heal her broken heart.”

  “That sounds like Yaz.”

  “Definitely.”

  “She was always overdramatic.”

  “Yeah.” I stretched again and grabbed some swim trunks. “Hey, I meant to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “I was looking for those two black boxes.”

  “You mean those dark ass boxes full of the Black Widow murders that you’re obsessed with and drag around with you everywhere?”

  “Yes, those boxes.” I frowned. “Vera said you delivered them back.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged. “It’s full of pictures of cut up bodies. Why would I want that on my vacation? Why would you want that? You promised me that you would give us an official vacation from the crap. Why are we even talking about this? Let’s hit the beach and some sexy chicks.”

  “Man, I don’t feel like going to the beach today.”

  “The only time you come to the beach is at night. Come on. Get some sun on that pale skin. The jet skies are ready.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yaz is out there.”

  “I don’t care about that,” I lied. Although as soon as he brought her name up, my interests piqued.

  It would be nice to see her.

  But Yaz was all over the place and she’d already broken my heart even though she never knew it. I’d cared for her so much, but never told her. I waited so long that she ended up dating my friend, Nick.

  That had been the worst winter of my life. Nick was all muscle and a jackass. I’d started working out because of their fling. I guessed now I should thank Nick for putting me onto a path of fitness.

  Brett didn’t give up. “We should go fishing and catch us some pink gold.”

  Down here, people called shrimp, pink gold. Long ago, a few fishermen caught a shark in the waters between Key West and the Dry Tortugas. When they sliced open the creature’s belly, hundreds of them spilled out, sparking a vibrant shrimping industry. Many earned a good living doing it, while guys like Brett and me enjoyed the challenge of catching them and the delicious taste of grilling them afterwards.