31 Kisses Page 6

  “Sure,” I say.

  He looks just as surprised as I feel.

  About thirty minutes after, my cell phone rings. Breaker is impatiently punctual for once and he’s in a pissy mood. I kiss Hayden goodnight and leave. This time, with a promise to call him soon.

  When I get downstairs, I have to deal with the two siblings who are at each other’s throats. Stone sends Breaker through the screen door. He lands on his back and slides a few inches, stopping close to my feet. He’s up in seconds and rushing for his brother.

  “Oh shit,” I run toward them. “Breaker!” I shout.

  He doesn’t listen. He never does when he goes volcanic like this. Red face, steam practically erupting from every orifice. Yep, he’s checked out. I put my hand on his shoulder.

  He turns around swinging, as I expected.

  I elbow him in the lower ribs hard enough to stun him, but soft enough not to fracture them.

  “Oomph!” he shouts as he steps back and looks at me. The heat of rage clears, and he comes back down to reality. “Did you just hit me?” he growls.

  I’ve only seen him like this three times in my whole life, and this was one of those times.

  Stone steps up next to me, directly in front of him. Breaker’s jaw ticks and clenches shut as his gaze bounces between Stone and me. “I’ll be in the car,” he says harshly as he steps forward, shoulder-shoving his brother and exits, stepping on the broken screen door.

  On his way out, he turns around and says, “I wouldn’t get used to throwing punches at me.”

  I steady my heart and cover my anxiousness with shouts. “What the fuck did you say to him?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Stone, who is looking just as angry as the Beneventi who walked out of here, brushes past me toward the kitchen.

  I follow him. “What do you mean?”

  He grabs a bag of frozen strawberries from the fridge and places it over his shirt. He hisses and lifts his shirt up to assess the damage. The discoloration is starting to spread over his left side from his ribs all the way down to his hip bone.

  “He hit you? What the fuck happened to negotiating?”

  “He threw me over the porch rail.” He leans against the kitchen island. “End of negotiation.”

  “Breaker wouldn’t just throw you over the rail for no reason.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Stop defending him. He doesn’t fucking deserve it. He just threatened you.”

  “I defend both of you. I always have, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I know my dad put you in charge of keeping us in check, but we aren’t sixteen anymore, and Breaker is a grown-ass man. So, if you want to report back to your fake daddy, tell him Stone said, ‘Fuck him.’ I’d do it myself, but I can’t stand to see him right now.”

  You don’t just tell a mob boss to go fuck himself, even if he is your father. “Tell me what happened?” I ask, taking the bag of frozen berries, and wrapping a damp kitchen towel around it. I give it back to him. “Put this where it hurts.”

  “I fell on the large rocks with our insignia. It fucking hurts everywhere.”

  I turn toward the kitchen window. The party is still raging on the streets.

  “No one of relevance saw. Most of the brothers are holed up with their girls for the night.” He scowls at me. “Like Hayden was.” Three words full of latent disapproval.

  Great. This is going to be fun.

  “If you cared about him at all, you’d show up with some guy and break his heart.”

  “This isn’t about Hayden.” I smack him in the shoulder. “What were you and Breaker arguing about?”

  Worry crosses his eyes before he answers, “My brother gave me an ultimatum. Stay in New York and go to law school here, or leave for California and be arrested before I even make it to the airport.”

  “He wouldn’t. Your dad wouldn’t let him.”

  “From what he tells me, my dad won’t live long enough to make it to my graduation at Forrest Hill.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder, and peck his cheek lovingly, like a sister caught between two brothers.

  “Stay away from Breaker, Kelsie. He’s not who you think he is.”

  I know exactly who he is, and it’s nowhere near as bad as who he’s becoming.

  I get into the expensive Hummer Breaker insists on driving around in. “You fucking threw him off the porch?” I shout before I even shut the door.

  He groans and drops his head to the steering wheel. “He started it.”

  I slam the passenger door shut with all my might. “Seriously? You’re twenty-three-years-old, Breaker. About to take over for your dad, and you can’t even play nice with your brother?” I shake my head and throw my head back against the headrest.

  “I don’t need you babysitting us, Kelsie.”

  “Good, because a babysitter with my particular skill set doesn’t settle disputes by putting you two in the corner.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “I have twenty-seven references that would say so…”

  He swivels his head toward me and cracks a smile, easing my nerves. “…If they were alive.”

  I smirk but adjust my pitch. “Did you have to give him an ultimatum? What happened to talking things through calmly and asking him to help out for a while? We both know you aren’t going to call the cops on him”

  “Stone never cared about anything other than himself.” He lifts his head up and glares at me, daring me to defy his statement.

  I do. “That’s a lie.” I still don’t know why he cut all ties with his dad and Breaker when he left for college, but it’s not my place to ask for information they don’t want to tell me. I suspected he saw a way out and took advantage. Stone has too good of a heart to be in this world. I probably would’ve too, if I were him. I still might after the caccia is over.

  “It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not coming for Christmas.”

  I nod. It has to be something bad if he doesn’t even want to say goodbye to his father. “What happened when he left for college?”

  Breaker stares me straight in the eyes and confesses, “It wasn’t good, but I don’t know the specifics. It was right around the time Mom died. She shared a secret with each of us, as a parting gift, and Stone confronted Dad about it and left.”

  “What was the secret?”

  “I don’t know his, but it couldn’t be as bad as mine.”

  “What was yours?”

  “Mine is that Costa Beneventi isn’t my real father.”

  “What?” My mouth drops open as I glare at Breaker. “Does he know?”

  “He does.”

  “And?” I ask, still reeling from the information.

  “And nothing. He said he raised me, so he’s my father. Then he went through a whole speech of what a stud he was back in the day, and how he couldn’t blame my mother for finding comfort in the arms of other men. He was barely home, and he was always the mistress kind of guy, so I tuned him out. Thinking of your father’s wrinkly dick, giving it to someone hard, wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have on the day of my mom’s funeral.”

  “Yeah. After the night I had with Major, the last thing I want to think about are wrinkly dicks.” Breaker knew my plan. I’d even say he respects me for my murdering abilities.

  He tugs at the loose material of my sweatpants. “These are not from someone with a wrinkly dick though.”

  “Can we stop putting those two words together, please?”

  He chuckles and starts the car. “You like the guy?”

  I look up toward Fraternity Hill. “Are you asking as my cousin, fake brother, or future boss?”

  “Whichever one of those will get me an honest answer.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, I like the guy.”

  “Good. Does he like you?” He pulls onto the street and heads off campus.

  “I guess so,” I answer, staring at his serious face.

  “Use that to
get Stone home for the New Year’s Eve party.”

  I guess I was talking to the future boss. I tuck my foot under my thigh and stare out the window, ignoring him.

  “Did you hear me, Kelsie?”

  “Yeah. I heard you, asshole. I don’t like being roped into whatever you and your brother have going on, and I don’t want to involve Hayden. He has nothing to do with this world. What if he recognizes your dad?”

  “He won’t. I checked up on him. He’s some army-brat nerd who roamed around the United States. He’s never even been to New York, and Dad hasn’t been on the news since your dad’s body was found.”

  “How am I supposed to get him to say yes to coming over?”

  “Use your pussy. Cover it in tinsel and wiggle your ornaments.” Asshole. “I don’t really care, as long as Stone finds out he’s coming. He won’t let him come to the party alone. You have two weeks to figure out how to get them both there. Understand?” He looks over at me, waiting for my answer.

  “Keep driving before I decide to make you number thirty-two.”

  4

  Alpha House Rain

  Hayden

  The alarm clock on my nightstand buzzes loudly, waking me up. I roll over on my stomach and stretch my upper body. My eyes are closed, so I use my hands to feel around to stop the annoying sound of ambulances and squad cars. I feel the button give under my finger and I press down on it, silencing the noise.

  A sigh of relief escapes me as I drop my head into my pillow and try to fall back asleep. My backup alarm on my cell phone rings.

  Fuck me. I inhale slowly, breathing in the scent of Kelsie’s perfume. I roll over on my back and exhale as memories of last night fill my mind, shamelessly providing me with early morning wood. I glance down at my erect penis and grunt. Great.

  I check the time to see if I’ll be taking a cold shower or spending a little extra time working out the hand muscles.

  It’s eight sharp. Cold shower it is. Someone has to wake up the house, expel the chicks, and round up the pledges. This place needs to be clean-ish before Campus Life stops by at three for our first probation check.

  I get up and head toward the shower. The minute the icy cold water squirts from the showerhead and hits my shaft, I wince and it shies away in protest. Sorry, bud, I apologize to it as if it has real feelings.

  I lather up and wash myself down in less than ten minutes. I towel off and drop the towel in the hamper before stepping back into my room. The chill of an early December morning cools my skin. I make a mental note to hike up the thermostat the drunkards probably turned down in the heat of their inebriation and get dressed.

  The clothes in the trash catch my attention. A whiff of men’s cologne fills my nostrils as I grab the ribbed shirt. I sniff the air; her clothes reek of some other guy’s scent.

  I hate that.

  I amble over to my nightstand, grab the phone, and pull up my phone log. My finger drifts over the screen and stops just above her phone number.

  I could call her, I think, lowering my thumb. And tell her what exactly? I shake my head, drop my finger, and hit the save contact option instead. I type in her name as I mentally list the reasons why calling her is a bad idea:

  She’s probably still sleeping.

  I should let her reach out first.

  I shouldn’t be making roots.

  I’m not her boyfriend, which means I don’t have the right to think it’s only me.

  I toss my phone on the bed, grab a hoodie from my closet, and head out the door before I give my heart time to think. It’s already pumping full of crazy ideas. Like, I want Kelsie to be my girlfriend.

  Girlfriend is a dangerous word for people who are trying to stay alive. But over two years without a phone call from Kade has to mean something, right? If he thought I was in danger, I would’ve gotten his call already, and I’m not calling him to make sure. I did that once, and he made me move anyway.

  I’m not going anywhere unless I absolutely have to.

  I might have to though if the university drops by and sees this mess. I stand on the bottom step, surveying the area. The screen door is up against the wall, barely standing upright because of its bent frame and torn screen. Multi-colored cups are scattered all over the floor, like the wind blew them inside. The pledges are sprawled around the carpet, most all of them in nothing but their boxers. The rest are naked. At least, they didn’t turn our living room into an orgy; there’s not a girl in sight. Well, I guess they don’t need girls to have an orgy.

  I sail toward them, checking the trash cans on the way. No condoms. That might not be a good thing.

  I step over one guy whose ass is hanging out. He has the words “Phi Alpha” written on one of his butt cheeks and “Rocks” on the other. I’m willing to bet, if we turn him over, he has “Suck the Alpha” written across his groin.

  Nice to see their house spirit isn’t hindered when they’re inebriated.

  I reach for the megaphone we stole off the Zeta girls in last week’s prank war and stare at the pink, glittery thing full of curly ribbons and white letters, then risk the glitter contamination and bring it up to my lips.

  “Rise and shine, Alphas!” I shout. My voice is amplified through the room, resulting in my ears ringing.

  They don’t flinch.

  I kick Mr. School Spirit near me gently, just to make sure he’s breathing. He is. I lower myself down closer to his head and use the megaphone to amplify my already boisterous voice. “Wake up, Pledge.”

  He scrambles to his feet and salutes me with his fingers and an erect dong in my face. I lower the megaphone and stand. “I don’t need the two-pronged salute, Pledge.”

  “Trying to deflate,” he says nervously.

  I don’t remember this one’s name, but I already know he won’t make the cut. He’s too scraggly to be an Alpha. He’d fit better with the guys down the hill in the nerd fraternity. The flatness on the pad of his index finger, while all the others are rounded, comes from constant repetitive use. He’s a computer geek. It’s a shame. He’s not bad looking for a dork. “What’s your name?”

  He doesn’t look surprised that I don’t know. We have over three hundred freshmen who want to join Alpha every fall rush, with only fifteen open rooms. We do three rounds before we announce our new members for second semester. How this kid made it through the final rounds, I have no idea. “Cameron, sir. Legacy Pledge.”

  Ah. That’s why. “Well, Legacy Pledge, how about you wake your pledge brothers up and get to making breakfast, while I go wake up the rest of the guys upstairs?”

  He looks around the room; he knows he’s going to get pummeled for the early morning wake-up call. I don’t remember any other legacy pledges this semester, so there’s no reason for him to feel inferior. “It may take me a bit, Alpha Hayden.”

  “Relax,” I say, patting him on the back and shoving him forward. “The brothers like pancakes to help soak up the alcohol.” I hand him the megaphone and then jolt up the steps, taking two at a time.

  Stone’s room is first. He’s the hardest to wake up in the morning, but once he’s up he’ll take charge. I don’t knock. If there’s a girl in there, my intrusion will horrify her, and she’ll get the fuck out.

  He’s alone. Shock number one.

  He’s awake. Shock number two.

  “Morning,” I say as I close the door behind me. He’s sitting up on his bed, watching an old rerun of Superman and holding something against his torso. “What the fuck happened? Did you take out the screen door?”

  He finally turns his head to me and greets me with cold, hard eyes. “No, that was Breaker. I tore through the porch railing and collided with the Theta Phi Alpha sign.” He drops the damp towel on his comforter and straggles to his feet. “You would have known if you weren’t up here fucking my cousin.”

  “She’s not really your cousin.”

  “And you’re not really my brother, but I call you one anyway.”

  Touché. “Sorry, man.” I take a
seat on his futon and lean forward, elbows on my thighs.

  “Don’t worry about it. Nothing’s broken. I think I mostly landed on the boneless parts.” He moves to the mirror to weigh the damage.

  “That looks nasty. How the hell did you land on your stomach?”

  “I don’t fucking know. I was drunk and Stone pissed me off. I took a swing at him. He punched me in the gut. I lost my balance, fell through the railing and onto the ground.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You fell on some stones, Stone?” I joke with all seriousness, evoking a small smile from him and a lighter atmosphere.

  “Get the fuck outta here,” he says with his New Yorker accent. He’s pretty good at curbing it, but I hear it sometimes.

  “And what do you mean you fell through the railing?”

  He’s no longer smiling.

  “It’s broken?”

  His eyebrows arch high and he turns around. He nods his head as if he’s answering his own thoughts before saying, “Breaker broke the porch.”

  “Not funny, Rissi,” I say, even though I fight the urge to burst out laughing. His parents gave them the strangest names. “We don’t have much time before Campus Life gets here, and I’m pretty sure a broken porch and bent screen door will send some red flags.”

  He rolls his eyes and dawdles to his dresser. “At least the party was outside.”

  “Yes, but it looks like all the trash is inside.”

  He threads his arm through the hoodie, one a time, then lifts the collar of the hoodie over his head in slow movements, alternating between wincing and sucking in his breath at each increment.

  “You sure you didn’t break anything?”

  “No,” he says, as he pulls the hem of the hoodie over his bruised abs. “But we have to get this taken care of before I get it checked out.”

  I get up and follow him to the door. “Did we make enough to pay back the damages last night?”

  He steps into the hallway. “Seven thousand.”

  “That’s pretty good.” I am pleasantly surprised for once this morning.