Page 40 of Collided (Bellmare High #1)

40

Heath

The crowd cheers and the mixed smell of sweat and alcohol fills the room.

Tonight’s match is big because Lex Kent is fighting me. He’s as deadly looking as his skills. With long hair, tattoos covering his arms, and a huge build, he is intimidating. He’s the same height as me but has a few years over me.

Stepping into the ring, he eyes me with his calculating dark brown eyes. He stands tall and throws some punches around, trying to scare me off.

I heave a breath and get in a stance.

The match starts and he quickly attacks me. He moves like a wild animal, hungry for its prey. His hits are everywhere as he rains them down on me.

I dodge a few hits, but he manages to land some that hurt like hell.

With a glare, I step back and reciprocate his hits.

I throw a combination of a punch, jab, and an uppercut that’s too fast for him to see.

As I predicted, he grows restless and careless, leaving his body in the open for me to attack.

With quick moves, I steal those spaces and land some powerful hits. I swing an uppercut, and he knocks down on the floor holding his head in his hands.

I return from the match covered in a few bruises and an aching body.

Ryan hasn’t reached out to me again regarding Mr. White and his offer, which is like a deal with the devil. That man is dangerous and someone you don’t want to fucking mess with.

When I said ‘no’ I had half expected his goons to chase me but turns out he’s found a replacement. A good fucking thing. I would never work for him.

After a short drive, I get home, biting my cheek due to the bruise on my stomach. Even a little movement causes so much pain.

“Sir, are you okay?”

I close my eyes. Fuck . I can’t go one day without Derek shadowing me.

“I’m fine. Go to sleep, old man.” I throw the words over my shoulder as I climb the stairs.

“I’m not old. And I can see you’re not fine, sir.”

When he calls me ‘sir’ I want to bang my head against the wall.

“Leave me alone, Derek.”

“Can’t do, sir.”

I turn around in annoyance. “I don’t want you to meddle in my business. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere close to me. My parents pay you, not me. So do me a favor and stay the fuck away from me. I don’t need a parent.”

Derek watches me with a cold expression, but I can see in his eyes that I’ve hit a spot. But I’m too enraged right now to give a damn.

“Your lip is bleeding. I can get you something.”

I rub my forehead only to hiss when I scratch a gash.

Fucking great. More pain, exactly what I needed.

I take a cold shower and then treat my injuries.

I'm applying balm on my lip when my phone rings.

Thinking it’s Sebastian who’s calling to check up on me I answer. “I told you I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“So you do answer your phone.”

I stiffen at the sound of the crisp, deep voice that’s oddly similar to my own.

My father is on the line.

“What do you want?” I grind my molars at the inconvenience that he’s got a hang of me.

“What are you doing out late, son?”

Bile rises to my throat at the word ‘son.’ I’ll take any other title over it. Even ‘asshole’ has a better ring to it.

“So now you care about me?”

After a long moment he says, “I do care about you, Heath.”

I can’t hold my laugh. “Yeah, right.”

He clears his throat. “Derek told me you were out late at night and returned home injured. What the fuck is going on?”

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

“It is my business.” The sudden shift in his tone makes me straighten. He sounds as cold as ice.

So I retaliate in the same voice. I suppose some things do run in the blood. “Like Emery was, but you abandoned us. What happened to her is your fucking fault. So don’t tell me I’m your business because I’m not.”

I can hear the change in his breathing. He’s mad, flaring with the twinge of my accusation.

“Are you doing drugs?” he asks sternly.

“I’m doing cigarettes. Alcohol is reserved for special nights.”

“You’re nothing but a spoiled kid, who doesn’t deserve any of the kindness I’ve been showing to you. I’m going to freeze your credit cards—”

“I don’t use them anyway.”

“—then where do you get the money from?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Heath, I swear, if I learn if you’re doing anything wrong I'll—”

“You will do nothing. We share blood, but nothing else. You have no ownership over me now that I’m eighteen so stay the fuck out of my business and stop calling me.”

I switch off my phone.

The silence in my room is overtaken by my ragged breathing.

For fuck’s sake.

I don’t need my dad, or my mom, or anyone. I’m better off being alone. It’s best that way.

Hope pops into my mind, I hang my head down. One person won’t hurt. I can keep her and stay away from others. I can keep my best friends, too. They’re good people. But others, fuck them.

Getting into bed, I try to regulate my breathing. It takes me a while to fully calm down. The adrenaline from the fight and the rage from the phone call still linger.

Rolling over to my right side, I find a book on my nightstand.

Stretching my arm out, I pick it up and analyze the cover. It’s one of Hope’s romance novels. The one she snatched from me when I was in her room and in return gave me a boner. I’m amazed how she didn’t feel it—it’s probably for the best.

Switching on the lamp, I open the book and skim through the pages. She’s written her thoughts and emotions and also underlined her favorite quotes in a pencil. There’s not a trace of pen on the paper which tells me she doesn’t like using pen on her books.

I’m reading her annotations when my eyes spot the name ‘Adrian Hayes.’ I double-check just to make sure.

Anger consumes me, but so does curiosity.

Flipping to the first page of chapter one, I start reading the book just to know what’s so special about him. Hope likes him a lot. Which I don’t like one bit. Fictional or not, he’s another guy that’s not me. She’s only supposed to like me.

One hour turns into three and then five, after that, I lose track of time.

The story has me captivated by its characters and plot line. Fuck, even Hope’s annotations make it interesting.

I’ve never been interested in fiction books. It’s not because I don’t like them or they bore me, they’re not just my thing.

When I was young, I liked playing soccer. Once I grew up, I moved toward exercise instead. I started working out when I was twelve. I liked running, lifting weights, and doing anything physical. Last year, I found boxing. It’s something that brings me great comfort—it sounds strange, but it’s true.

The books I occasionally read are nonfiction regarding entrepreneurship, business, and making money. That kind of knowledge fuels my mind and gives me the freedom to not live under the thumb of my father.

The people in his world expect me to carry on his company and legacy, for all I care it can turn to ash.

I have no interest in being his heir and acquiring the control of an empire. The power and money will make me invincible, though, if there’s anything I’ve learned from his life, it’s the people you love that matter.

No amount of money can let you buy your way in the past and steal moments with someone. No power can let you manipulate the laws of space and time and have your way. It’s all in vain.

I’d rather be poor and spend time with the people I love than waste away my life gathering money.

I do want to be rich. I enjoy the privileges that come with money. But not at the expense of losing the handful of people I have in life.

Marie, Sebastian, and Hope, they’re the only three people in my world now. Kelly too, since she’s always been nice to me.

The first morning light breaks in through the windows and swallows the darkness in the room.

I sit up and stretch. I’m halfway through the book. So far it’s too predictable, sweet, and cringey for my taste. There’s too much love and shit in this book. Cute moments and sweet nothings.

Is that the kind of guy Hope wants?

I blow out a long breath. I’m not that kind of guy. I’ll never be. I don’t know the sweet words or the cute things.

So where do we go from here?

We’ve kissed and admitted that we like each other, but it feels like we’ve only reached the first mark of a long journey.

My lack of experience is regrettable because now I don’t know what to do.

Should I kiss her every time I see her? I did tell her that.

Should I ask her on a date? I’ve never taken a girl out on a date.

Should I ask her to be my girlfriend? Fuck. It’s too soon. We’ve only reached first base.

My head is a mesh of thoughts and questions. I feel overwhelmed.

However, at the thought of her, some weird shit happens in my stomach. Strange.

Rubbing my eyes, I lean back against the headboard. Folding an arm behind my head, I continue reading. This Adrian Hayes guy better give me some clues.