Cursed Hadley Read online

  Once they’re gone, I twist around to face Bailey. “Well, that was intense.”

  “Try scary as shit.” She looks over at their house then back at me. “Dude, I have a bad feeling about those guys. I mean, I know we’ve been around some creepy dudes before, but they’re, like, on a whole other level of creepiness.”

  I know that, and I’m really worried I just might have poked a sleeping badger. Not wanting to freak her out, I put on my fake smile.

  “Everything’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’re all bark and no bite.”

  She gives a pressing glance at my car. “Yeah, that’s why you have four flat tires and just spent the last half hour putting your car back together.”

  I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. “It’s just a car. No biggie.”

  No biggie, Hadley. It’s our only source of transportation at the moment.

  But I keep my calm face on, faking it like I often do.

  “No biggie?” Bailey shakes her head incredulously. “We currently have no place to live, no power, no food, and now we don’t have a vehicle. We’re seriously fucked up the ass.”

  “Hey, watch your mouth,” I scold, but she only rolls her eyes. Sighing, I circle my car to examine the tires again. “I wonder if they slashed them or just let the air out.”

  “Did you see the evil smirks on their face?” Bailey questions. “They definitely slashed them.”

  A sigh slips from my lips. “Yeah, I know.”

  Bailey kicks one of the tires with the tip of her boot. “How are we going to get the tires fixed? We can’t afford it.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Those seem to be my go-to words at the moment.

  Usually, I’m better at hiding my worry from my sisters, but those guys have me frazzled.

  I need to get my shit together.

  “Here, give me your phone.” I stick out my hand.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to call and get a quote on some tires, then I’m going to call Dad.”

  “He’s not going to pick up.” She hands me her phone. “Londyn already tried, like, five times this morning.”

  “Well, I’m going to try again.” I open her internet app and search local tire stores.

  “Why? It’s pointless.” She plops down on the blanket I used while putting together the carburetor. “Even if he does answer his phone, he’s not going to help us.”

  “He can give me the name of the landlord and their phone number.”

  “And then what? Because my bet is he hasn’t even paid the deposit yet.” She stretches her legs out. “Honestly, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps he ever even rented this place. I think he told us some bullshit story so he could ditch us out in the middle of some redneck town.”

  That thought has crossed my mind. That maybe our dad really has been running away from something for the last eight years and he finally decided to do it solo.

  “I’m sure that’s not what—”

  A car suddenly zooms down the road and peels into the driveway next door, kicking up a cloud of dirt.

  “Holy hell, it’s your long-lost twin.” Bailey coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face as dust funnels around us.

  I eyeball the car; a 1969 GTO Judge, black with red racing stripes. “Pretty.”

  Bailey points at me. “Don’t get mesmerized yet. It could be one of their cars.” She glares at the house the car is parked in front of. I assume she is referring to Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon.

  “No way. They just went inside.” I openly check the car out, my chest filling with envy.

  What I wouldn’t give to have my car looking that fantastic. And with functional tires.

  Bailey and I watch as the driver’s door swings open and a guy hops out. Tall, with short, dark brown hair, he looks around my age, and equally, if not more, attractive than Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon. He’s dressed in similar attire as they were—all black with chains dangling off his belt loops, thick boots covering his feet, and leather bands decorating his wrists.

  “Yummy,” Bailey mutters, biting her bottom lip.

  “No yummy,” I warn. “I’m pretty sure he’s related to dipshit one, two, and three.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Because he looks like them.”

  She pouts. “Well, that sucks.”

  “Why? Were you planning on going over there and hitting on him?” I tease as I twist around to face my car.

  “No.” Her lie shines through her tone and how she turns her head away to hide her smile.

  “You’re such a little liar.” Flashing her a teasing smile, I move to dial a nearby tire company’s phone number. “Besides, I thought hitting on guys was more Payton’s thing—”

  “Is that your ride?” a deep, male voice sails from over my shoulder.

  I trade a wary look with Bailey before turning around. Sure enough, Mr. Yummy himself is standing beside the fence with a soft smile dancing at his lips. Although, unlike Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon, his smile doesn’t look malicious.

  “Yeah,” I reply cautiously, fighting the urge to keep my jaw from dropping. But seriously, this guy is gorgeous. Like, maybe even the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. His lips full, his nose perfectly straight, his eyes the most intense shade of teal.

  “It’s not too bad. Would look even better, though, if it was fixed up.” He dazzles me with a grin, yet a crinkle forms at his brow as his gaze sweeps over me.

  What? Has he never seen a girl in greasy pajamas before?

  “It looks fine as is.” I aim for a bored expression, despite the acceleration of my pulse.

  An amused twinkle glimmers in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just trying to give you a compliment.”

  “Well, thanks, I guess.” I begin to turn back around, because honestly, this guy is too pretty to look at—blinding even—but apparently, he’s not as affected by my looks.

  “I’d like to see how it races sometime,” he continues. “There’s a place down by the river where some people get together. You should come down there sometime. I think there might be a race going on this weekend.”

  Bailey leans in toward me and whispers, “I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I’ve ever seen is hitting on you right now.”

  “He’s not hitting on me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s up to something.” Facing him again, I recline against my car. “Thanks for the invite, but until I can come up with the cash to get four new tires, I won’t be taking this out racing anytime soon.”

  His brows knit. “How did all of your tires go flat?”

  I point at the house just behind him. “Dipshit one, dipshit two, and dipshit three that live there decided to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

  His jaw tightens. “You’ve met my brothers?”

  So, he is related to the asshats next door. Dammit, I was hoping he wasn’t so I could let myself like his beautifulness. Now, I have to shut that down or else I won’t like myself very much.

  “Yep.” I move to leave, mostly so I’ll stop thinking lustful thoughts about yummy neighbor guy. “It was nice meeting you …” I realize I don’t know his name.

  Gripping the top of the fence, he easily hoists himself over. Then he walks toward me with his hand outstretched. “My name’s Rhyland, and I really want to apologize for whatever my brothers did or said to you.”

  I resist shaking his hand, though I really, really want to know if his skin is as soft as it looks. “It’s fine. You didn’t do it.”

  “Yeah, but they’re kind of my responsibility.” He lowers his hand to his side, his face contorted in perplexity. “I try to keep them out of trouble, but it doesn’t always work.”

  I nod understandingly. “Yeah, I get that.”

  “Really?”

  I shrug. “I have three younger sisters and my dad …” I clear my throat. The last thing I need is to tell a stranger about my dad. “Anyway, it’s sort of my job to keep an eye on them and make sure they stay out of trouble. I
fail, though, a lot.”

  He watches me with complete interest. “I doubt that. I’m sure you’re just being too hard on yourself.”

  “Tell that to the countless times I’ve had to pick one of them up from jail or bail them out of a bad situation.” Wait. Why am I telling him this? And right in front of Bailey? This is so unlike me. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you …” Shit, I forgot his name. Not because he’s forgettable—he’s definitely not. His close proximity is just making me stupidly frazzled.

  Get your shit together, Hadley. You’re better than this! He’s just a guy, for crying out loud.

  An amused grin takes over his face as I grow more flustered. “Rhyland.”

  “Right, Rhyland.” I mentally smack myself. “It was really nice meeting you, Rhyland.” Why the hell did I just emphasize really?

  “It was really nice meeting you, too.” He catches my gaze. “I’d really like to know your name, though.”

  I almost don’t want to give it to him, but my lips are traitorous bastards. “It’s Hadley.”

  “Hadley.” The way it sounds coming off his tongue makes my skin tingle. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hadley.” Then he reaches out, wraps his fingers around mine, and before I can even process what he’s doing, he brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

  Yep, like we’re straight out of the 18th century kisses my freakin’ knuckles.

  “Um …” I sneak a glance at Bailey, wondering what she thinks about this.

  She’s grinning like a dork, but a bit of confusion creases her forehead.

  I understand her puzzlement. Usually, if a guy tries to come on to me, I put him in his place. But I’m not even sure if Rhyland is coming on to me. Maybe he’s just getting acquainted with my hand.

  Okay, yeah, that seems like a weird explanation when I analyze it. So maybe he’s just old-school. Like really, really old-school.

  Once he releases my hand, his frowns at my car. “Let me buy some new tires for you.” He smiles warmly at me. “It’s the least I can do to make up for my brothers’ behavior.”

  What I wouldn’t give to be able to accept that offer, but my pride gets the best of me.

  “No, thank you. I can take care of it.” I’m such a fucking little liar.

  Again, he appears a bit baffled.

  “Please,” he practically begs. “I really want to.”

  I almost accept. In fact, my lips are parting, ready to say yes, when my dad’s truck pulls into the driveway.

  “Oh, look, he finally found his way here,” Bailey mumbles with irritation.

  I turn toward Rhyland, preparing to say goodbye so I can take care of the endless list of stuff I need to do, but he’s already over the fence and heading toward his house.

  So much for being friendly.

  My guard goes up as I watch him walk away, wondering if his nice guy, gentleman act might have been just that—an act. Perhaps he’s helping his brothers curse my cursed life even more. But how?

  “All right, who’s ready to see the new house?” my dad announces as he gets out of the truck.

  He’s cleaned up a bit since I last saw him. Or, well, at least changed his clothes, which is considered cleaned up for him.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I demand as I stride toward him.

  Between having to break in last night to waking up to deal with our new neighbors, I’m feeling a bit testy. And his blasé attitude about ditching us last night is only adding fuel to the wildfire.

  “Picking up the keys for our new place, getting the power and water turned on, and finding a job.” He pats my shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of things last night.”

  I gape at him. “I had to break into a house I wasn’t even sure was ours, just so we didn’t have to sleep in the car.” I grind my jaw from side to side. “Where were you all night? Because I know you weren’t getting the keys for this place and finding a new job at two o’clock in the morning.”

  He scrubs his hand over his head. “I was taking care of some other stuff.”

  “You mean, finding out which bar lets you open a tab?” I question. “Or which bar has the most inattentive bartender so you can hand him a fake credit card, and then stiff the bill altogether?”

  “That’s not what I do.” Despite his words, his guilt is written all over his face.

  “I know your scams, Dad.” I back away, shaking my head. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one who’s had to go down to the bar and pay your outstanding tabs, or convince the bar owner that you just forgot to pay the bill and weren’t trying to take off.”

  “I wasn’t scamming anyone over last night,” he bites out. “I really did have some stuff to take care of.”

  I don’t believe him. I’d be stupid to.

  “So, where’s your new job then?”

  He shrugs, scuffing the tip of his boot against the dirt. “Around here.”

  “Mmmhm.” I rub my lips together, shaking my head. “And what exactly are you going to be doing?”

  “Stuff.” He tosses me a set of keys before hiking to the back of the truck. “It requires me to be gone a lot. I might even be gone for a week at a time, so I’m counting on you to take care of your sisters.”

  “I always do,” I mutter softly enough that he doesn’t hear over the creaking of the tailgate dropping.

  God knows what the hell he’s actually doing for work. Probably something illegal. Or he might even be lying about having a job altogether. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  The last time he pulled a stunt like that, he pretended to go to work every morning, only to go spend the day at the bar, spending what little money we had on whiskey. It took me three weeks to catch on after I realized no money was coming in. I ended up tailing him and, sure enough, discovered his dirty little secret.

  After that, I started keeping an eye on him. That was also when I got my first part-time job. I was fourteen and lied about my age to get a job waitressing at a café. I’ve been working part-time jobs ever since. So do my sisters. It’s how we buy food, school clothes, and other necessities, and pay the bills when needed. It’s never enough, though, hence the constant moving. It doesn’t help that our dad is always either borrowing money from us or stealing it when we refuse to give him any cash.

  After Dad drops the tailgate, Bailey and I start helping him move stuff inside the house. Eventually, Londyn and Payton return with a can of tire inflator.

  “What happened to your tires?” Dad asks as he follows me with a box in hands.

  “The neighbors,” I answer as I set the can of tire inflator on the hood of my car.

  He pauses. “They flattened your tires? Why?”

  I lift a shoulder. “We got off on the wrong foot, I guess.”

  He shifts his weight. “Do you want me to go talk to them?”

  I quickly shake my head. “No, I can handle it.”

  Adjusting the box underneath his arm, he scratches his head. “I think maybe we should keep our distance from people around here.” When I give him a puzzled look, he adds, “I just don’t think we’re going to be here very long, and I don’t want you girls getting attached to anyone.”

  “We never do.” A bit of annoyance rings in my tone.

  He doesn’t seem to notice, giving me a pat on my shoulder before walking into the house.

  I start to turn back toward the truck to grab some more boxes when my gaze magnetizes toward the neighbors’, as if by some unseen force.

  I swallow hard at the sight of Blaise, standing on the front porch and leaning against the railing. His face is mostly shadowed, so I can’t see it very well, but I can feel his stare burning into me.

  I should look away. If I had any self-preservation, I would. Instead, I stare right back challengingly. He doesn’t look away. Neither do I. The air starts to burn, scorching hot, and for the weirdest moment, a flash of green light reflects off him.

  “Hadley.”

  I flinch as Bailey nudges my foot with hers.
r />   “Huh?” I blink at her, my head swimming with lightheadedness.

  “I asked which room you wanted?” She frowns, her eyes traveling to the neighbors’ house. “What were you staring at over there?”

  I dare a glimpse back at Blaise, only to find him gone. “Nothing.” I shake my head, trying to clear the haziness from my mind with the unsettling feeling that I somehow just lost a silent banter with Blaise when I looked away.

  My stomach churns. I’m uncertain why. They’re just guys. Nothing more. I shouldn’t be worried.

  But I am.

  I really, really am.

  Chapter 6

  My sisters and I spend the rest of the night unloading boxes and furniture into the house and making a quick trip to the grocery store to buy some food. Our dad helps for a bit, but eventually goes up to his room and passes out, obviously hungover.

  The house has three bedrooms, so Londyn and I bunk up in one and Payton and Bailey in the other. We don’t have much for furniture, just some mattresses, bedframes, and a couple of dressers, so organizing doesn’t take too long.

  Once we’re finished for the night, Londyn climbs into bed, while I stare out the window at the next-door neighbors’, playing guard basically. The lights in the house are off, but the back-porch light is on, highlighting all the cars in the backyard. Strangely, the way the light cascades across them gives off the illusion that shadows are dancing between the vehicles. Well, either it’s from the lights or my imagination is getting the best of me.

  “So, what do you think about Dad already having a job, but not telling us where he’s working?” Londyn asks.

  “I’m not sure.” I sit down on the dresser and continue to stare out the window. “He could’ve been lying, or he could be doing something illegal.”

  “Where do you think he was last night?”

  “I have no idea. Probably at a bar.”

  “All night?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Yeah, but … didn’t he seem sort of, I don’t know, evasive about everything?”

  “Isn’t Dad’s middle name evasive?” I question. “While I spend a lot of time trying to keep an eye on him, I feel as if I barely know him.”