Ocean (Damage Control 5)

So bitter, Ocean. We just established there are others worse off than you. Suck it up and drive.

In any case… Yeah. A flaw. Why do I keep coming back, to check on them? Why do I bother? Why do I spend my time and my money on them?

No wonder Raine hates me. Not only did I fail him in every way possible, now I’m caring for those who let us down in the first place.

My hell is in the outskirts of Milwaukee. The engine kicks as I slow down, taking the exit from the highway and driving the last stretch.

To the place where Raine and I grew up, a trailer park packed with trash and filth. The place where our parents are still living—if you call that living.

Home sweet home.

Chapter Five

Kayla

“He drove you home. Carried you to your apartment. Put you in bed.” Amber frowns. “And then just walked out?”

“I know, right?” I park down the street from Damage Control. “He could at least have tied me to the bed and had wild sex with me first.”

I’m all talk, I know, trying to sound sassy and world-weary when the memory of his arms around me, his body close to mine, sends fire leaping through my veins.

“Kay!” Amber is laughing, her cheeks flame red. “Oh God.”

“Hey, what are you blushing for? It’s not like you and Jesse only hold hands in bed, is it?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, but her mouth curves into a bright smile. Then she pales. “Oh crap on a stick, are we too loud? Are we—?”

“You can’t muffle a real good time.” I smirk, and her blush is back, full-force.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. Don’t you dare be embarrassed on my behalf,” I tell her. “I’m happy you’re happy.”

It’s true. It’s so sweet. Please, dear God, let them be happy and sappy and beautiful together ever after.

Even if it means listening to them every night. Even if it means Amber moves out and leaves me on my own.

“Tell me again why we’re here instead of the café where Ev and Cassie are waiting for us?” Amber climbs out of my tiny, yellow, ten-year-old Mini Cooper.

I grab my small package and follow her out, lost in thought.

Yep, I’m the proud owner of a car. Hard to believe it. I saved every penny from my various jobs over the past two years—anything from serving tables to babysitting to walking the neighbors’ dogs, and finally the clothes I’ve been designing, sewing and selling—to buy it off a jaded college classmate for a couple of thousand. In theory, I could use it to visit my family on occasion.

But I don’t want to go. I haven’t even told them I bought a car. Which is awful, I know. They’ve been sending me money, helping me out, even if they don’t agree with my choices. Mom especially.

Doesn’t stop her from asking me to go back home every time we talk on the phone and telling me to stop acting up. Besides, they have money. It’s just that they’d rather spend it on classes they condone.

Or on a huge wedding for me to marry a random guy with money and move in with my in-laws.

Why do families have to be so complicated?

“Kay? Did you hear me? Why are we here?”

“Because I’m needed.”

“For what? By whom?”

Stuffing my package into my purse, I button up my light blue coat and wrap my rainbow-colored scarf around my neck. “I don’t know yet. But the cards said so.”