Page 23

Story: Destroying Declan

“You think your best friend tried to fuck your little sister?” I say, being blunt on purpose.
“Jesus, Tess—” He actually looks like he might throw up. “Look, I just need to know what’s going on.”
“Why?” I dig my hands into the pocket of my coveralls, gaze aimed at the kitten playing in the grass at my feet. I look up at him and almost laugh. “Because you suddenly give a shit about Henley?”
His head snaps back like I punched him in the face. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ve been leaving her to clean up your family messes for as long as I can remember, Ryan.” Bending down, I scoop the kitten off the grass. When I stand, he’s glaring down at me. He looks like he wants to hit me. It’s okay. I know he won’t. “While you’re off running the streets and getting laid, your mother beats on her. She’s the only thing standing between your father and choking to death on his own vomit and you can’t be bothered with any of it.” I lift my free hand and jab him in the chest with my finger. “She needs you. All the time. Every day. You don’t get to pick and choose when you want to be her brother.”
He just stares at me. Doesn’t argue or try to tell me that I’m wrong. It’s like he doesn’t even hear me. I drop my finger and take a step back. “Leave your sister alone and leave Con alone too—because if there is something going on between them, it would be none of your business.”
I walk away.
He doesn’t try to follow me.
After I left Ryan, I walked to Von’s. I’ve been standing in the pet aisle, staring at their selection of cat litter for what feels like days now.
I have twenty bucks.
The prices I’m looking at make me wish I made Declan cough up the fifty he offered me last night.
No. I don’t want his money. Because I know where it came from. I know what he does to earn it.
He steals cars.
For my dad.
He thinks I don’t know, but I’ve known for months now.
From the depths of my coveralls, my stowaway lets out a pitiful excuse for a meow. Pulling them away from my chest, I look down to watch the kitten stretch up on her hind legs and poke her head through the opening.
She meows again.
“I know, I know…” I use the tip of my finger to scratch her behind her ear before poking her back into her hiding place. “I’m hurrying.”
“Excuse me, Miss,” a deep voice says behind me. “Is that a kitten in your shirt?”
I whip around to find Declan standing a few feet away. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looks fucking incredible, despite the fact that his jaw is bruised and he has a one-inch gash in his chin that’s been superglued shut.
Jesus. I can’t catch a fucking break.
I turn back around and glare at bags and buckets of cat litter. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”
“You did,” he says, the sound of his voice drifting closer. Reaching past me, he grabs two bright green buckets of litter off the shelf and puts them in my cart. “But I’ve always been horrible at following directions.” With that he, commandeers my cart completely, pushing it down the aisle to stop in front of the selection of cat food.
I stare at him for a few seconds before scrambling after him. I watch silently while he scoops a small mountain of canned food off the shelf and into the basket. “What do you think?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest before giving me a sideways glance. “Meow Mix or Cat Chow?” When I don’t answer, he nods. “Good choice.” He grabs a big bag of both and adds them to the cart.
Next it’s a collar. Food and water bowls. Cat toys. Treats. A fancy litter tray that’s supposed to do everything but wipe the cat’s ass.
“I can’t afford any of this shit,” I blurt out, reaching out to grab the cart when he starts to push it toward the front of the store. “I came in here for a few cans of food and a cheap bag of litter—that’s it.”
“I owe you fifty bucks, remember?”
I remember. Wasn’t I just bitching to myself about not asking him for it before I stormed off last night? “I don’t want your money.”
“That may be, Tesla—” He covers my hand with his and gives me a smirk when I jerk it away and off of the cart. “but you need it.”
On cue, the furball in my shirt pokes her head out and lets out a squeak.