Because of You (Because of You 1)

I couldn't k

eep from wrinkling my nose up in disgust and muttering, "I guess the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

This comment seemed to shorten his patience, and he said, "I have better places to be right now, Nikki. Do you accept my terms or not?"

My mind raced, trying to think of some other way, of some other offer I might be able to give him, but my mind drew a blank. "I…what is it you want, exactly? Just a little sex slave, available at your beck and call?" I asked disdainfully.

Derek pretended to think for a moment, then he said, "Sounds good to me."

"You are despicable," I spat.

He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with my opinion of him. "Maybe, but I'm not the one who cheated on my oh-so-devoted boyfriend with my worst enemy tonight."

My shoulders slumped and I realized with a sinking heart that he was right. He was disgusting and cruel, but I wasn't much better.

Poor Andy.

Without realizing it, I said aloud, "I am such a whore."

"Yeah," he drawled, nodding his head at me. "But hey, at least now we know it is hereditary."

My eyes narrowed, my blood simmered and I went to lunge at him, planning to give him a few scratches to explain to Kayla, but he already guessed my intentions so he quickly slipped out the door and held onto the door knob so I couldn't even twist it open. I growled angrily and released the knob, turning away from the door and looking at the disheveled bed.

My shoulders slumped again, and I thought about what had happened in that bed. Bits and pieces kept floating into my mind, images of him above me, his hair falling down into my face, me smiling as I tangled my hands into it and pulled, causing him to growl and thrust harder.

"Oh God," I muttered, sinking down onto the floor and hiding my face in my hands. "I'm never drinking again."

Chapter Two-

Since I couldn't possibly go back to sleep after that awful scene, I got up and started washing the bedding while everyone else was asleep.

I had everything clean and the bed made before anyone saw that I was still there, so I quietly left the house and walked myself home.

I honestly think what concerned me more than knowing I got drunk and had sex with someone I didn't care about, was that I couldn't figure out why. Sex itself had never been that big of a deal to me; it was the emotions that went along with it that scared me. But Derek? It would have been different if I would've just slept with some stranger, then I would've just thought I was a slutty drunk, and I might have felt the normal regret, but not the gnawing feeling that seemed to be eating away at my insides.

Why had I slept with Derek Noble of all people? I hated him, and he hated me even more, so why would he be the person I would decide to jump into bed with? Sure, maybe in a shallow kind of way he might be slightly attractive, but he was mean and a loser as far as I was concerned, and he reminded me of his stupid father.

Granted, I had never actually met his father, but the way my mother wrote about him was making me think of Derek more and more lately.

Although, honestly, I don't think even Mike would have stooped to blackmail.

I wanted to be so hard on Derek, to despise him for his senseless, perverted cruelty, but for some reason the image of the little boy in the grocery store kept floating back into my mind.

Did he remember his mother the way I remembered mine? Had they been as close as my mother and I were? Did he have memories like mine, of sitting on the back porch watching the birds, or doing household chores and dancing around the house? Was his mother happy, since she had gotten what she wanted out of life? I was sure she didn't cry herself to sleep each night, but in reality, I knew nothing of his mother except what my mother wrote, which was bound to be unflattering since my mother obviously hated her enough to kill her.

When I finally got home the sun had risen. I was mildly surprised to see Alex sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand, looking right at me as I walked in.

For a split second my heart missed a beat, and I wondered in a state of confusion if he had actually waited up for me. He had never done anything like that before, but then I had also never stayed out all night, I just assumed he wouldn't care. But I knew he didn't have to work until four, so why else would he be sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand?

And then I thought of the picture I must present, my reddish brown curls all frizzy from Derek's hands roaming through them, my cheeks somehow still flushed, my eyeliner probably smeared under my green eyes. Even my clothes were probably all wrinkled from being balled up on the floor wherever Derek had tossed them, and to top it all off, I probably still smelled of alcohol.

However, Alex ruined the illusion of a caring father by raising one black eyebrow and saying, "Are you just getting home?"

That was when I saw a pretty girl with long glossy brown hair walk out of the bathroom and into the living room, wearing only his T-shirt. It wasn't his girlfriend, so I didn't feel I should concern myself with learning her name.

I looked her over from her pretty face to her toned legs and purple sparkled toenails and decided she might be 21, but maybe not even that.

"Typical," I muttered, closing the front door behind me. I glanced over at Alex as I started my journey to my room and said, "Probably a nine."