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LOLA
I was sure nothing and nobody could wipe the smile off my face. The whole train ride home I’d been scribbling on a piece of paper in one of my notepads, designing the poster that I’d make at the library tomorrow.
Time was of the essence. The sooner I got the flyer pinned to a wall in the diner, the quicker someone would ask me to tutor them, which meant more money to get out of the house I was walking toward.
Friday nights weren’t just busy at the diner, but also at home. I knew what was going to greet me as soon as I walked in the door, but I didn’t care. It was only a matter of time, and then I’d be out of there.
The grease stench from working in the diner clung to my hair like its own personal perfume. I needed a shower and my bed, but I wouldn’t get that right away. I had to do my duties as “Hut’s” stepsister and say hi to the people who mattered—the ones who meant extra money in his pockets. I’d played my part well over the years—too well. I couldn’t stand any of the people who came to Hut’s Friday night parties, not that it mattered. I was here to serve a purpose.
“If it isn’t lovely Lola!”
I cringed at the off-pitch voice. “Hi, Carson.” I added more pep to my step as I pushed through the crowd and into the kitchen where he was currently holding court around our tiny kitchen table. “How you doing?”
His creepy smile extended across his pockmarked scarred face. “I’m good. Question is, how are you doing?” His gaze trailed over me, and I was thankful that I’d changed out of my diner uniform—just another tactic so Hut couldn’t find me. “You still trying that college thing?”
“Yep.” I hitched my smile up a notch. “You still doing that…” I spun my finger in the air and pointed at the cocaine spread on the table, ready for him to snort. “That coke thing.”
He threw his head back and laughed so loud that everyone in the kitchen paused their conversations. I could feel the burn of all their eyes on my back. I’d never liked being the center of attention. Some people—like my stepbrother—loved it. They relished in being the one person everyone
listened to, to have what you did matter to them, but I didn’t. I’d always wanted to slip by, go unnoticed, and not have my name be the focus of their conversations, but it never worked out like that.
“Yeah.” He dipped his head and snorted a line, closing his eyes in euphoria. “Want some?” he asked, opening his eyes and dipping the tip of his finger in the stark-white powder. “You know I like to share.” I was sure his smirk worked on the girls he surrounded himself with, but all it did was make me shiver—and not the good kind. He ran his finger over his gums, sighing at the sensation.
“I’m good thanks.” I flicked my gaze around the kitchen, searching for someone or something to get me away from Carson the Creep—that was my own nickname, and I’d nearly called him that several times to his face. “Oh, there’s Hut. I better go say hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave as I stepped back. “I’ll catch you later.”
He ran his gaze over me again, this time stopping on my chest as he murmured, “Yeah, you will.”
I slipped past the horde of people and toward the door that led to our tiny backyard. Hut was leaning against the closed door in deep conversation with the new guy from the other night, and I hesitated for a second. I remembered Hut calling him Brody, but no one around here used their real names, not when they wanted to keep part of their lives secret. All these people at this party thought they knew Hut. He portrayed an easygoing, party atmosphere, but that was just the skin to the onion. They didn’t know about his many layers. Layers that, when revealed, you couldn’t put back.
Brody lifted his head, sensing my approach, and I smiled gently. His stoic face held no expression, and I couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not. I was pretty good at reading people, but that meant I could sense what they were thinking about me, and they never held back, especially not Hut.
“Hey.” I halted a couple of feet away, waiting for Hut to acknowledge me, but the muscle ticking in his jaw was screaming at me to walk away. “I just wanted to—”
“Fuck’s sake, Lola. I’m busy. Fuck off.”
I clenched my teeth together so hard one was sure to crack. I knew his game well. If I ignored him when I came home, I’d have hell to pay the day after. “I—”
Hut swung his head around, his pupils so large they nearly came to the edges of his irises. He was as high as a kite, and that could go one of two ways—bad or really bad. “Did you not hear what I just said?” He stepped toward me, his nostrils flaring, and hands clenched by his sides. “Fuck. Off. I’m busy. I ain’t got time for a whore like you.”
If I cared what he thought about me, that would probably hurt, but seeing as though I didn’t give a flying fuck, his insult went right over my head. “I was just letting you know that I was home.” It took every bit of strength in my body to keep my voice calm and not say what I really wanted to. Fuck you, you fucking douche.
“Do I look like your fuckin' dad?” he roared, causing everyone in the kitchen to go silent for a second time. “But then, your dad is never here, huh? He’s off fuckin' anything he can and getting his next fix.” He stepped closer to me, his chest only inches away from mine. I cringed as his hot breath fanned over my face. “Gonna end up like him, ain’t ya, Lola? Washed up and used, not giving a shit about anything—”
“Stop!” My breaths sawed in and out of my body, and I could feel the heat on my face as my anger spread through me like wildfire. Normally, I’d back away, placate him so that he didn’t lose his cool, but I was sick and tired of doing what I could to keep the peace. “Fuckin' stop it!” My voice was raw from how loud I shouted, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
Hut raised his brow, and let his shoulders droop, a calm washing over him that didn’t mean anything good. “What did you say?” His voice was low, deceptively soft. He was a master at deceiving and confusing. That was how he’d gotten as far as he had.
“I said—” I drew in a deep breath, needing to exude calm too, but I was failing miserably. I didn’t want to admit how much his words hurt, and it wasn’t because of who was saying them. It was what he’d said. I didn’t want to end up like my dad, which was why I was working so hard, and why I killed myself with the number of hours I worked and upped my college class load. Because I wouldn’t allow myself to become like him, like any of them. “Stop it.”
Hut’s hand whipped out, his large, rough palm gripping me around the throat. The force of it had me stumbling back, but he didn’t break his hold on me. Instead, he spun me around and slammed my back against the wall causing my breath to whoosh out of me.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, but he usually only hurt me with his words. I was used to him putting me down because that was where his control came from. Control I refused to give him. Even at this moment, being held against the wall by my throat, my breathing harsh and getting harder to come by, I still didn’t concede. The moment I did, my life as I knew it would be over.
The room was basked in silence, every person waiting to see what his next move was. This was new for Hut, doing it in front of his guests, but he was showing me exactly who he was. Gone was the Emerson I had once known, and now all that existed was Hut. I desperately wanted to look around and silently beg people to help me, but the prospect of glancing away from him wasn’t one I wanted to entertain.
His hand squeezed harder around my neck, and my arms shot up to grip his forearms. His eyes were wild, not focusing on any one point on my face. It was as if he was watching a ping-pong ball shoot from left to right on a table.