Ruckus (Sinners of Saint #2)

I shouldn’t have wanted to answer that phone so bad and end this.

End all the question marks, the torturous wondering, swimming in the unknown.

I shouldn’t have. But I did.





Eleven Years Ago



What makes you feel alive?

My family. Their imperfections. Their fierce love. Their unconditional worry. Their dedication to a lost cause. To me.



THE NIGHT BEFORE MILLIE LEFT for New York wasn’t much different than any other night. We slept in the same bed, even though we had separate rooms. Feet on the wall, staring at the ceiling, hugging a pillow or each other. That was our signature position. Sometimes it was my bed. Sometimes it was hers. I hated that I loved sleeping in her bed because it smelled like him. They weren’t having sex, but his scent was everywhere.

On her sheets. On her desk. In my soul.

This time we were in my room, and the glow-in-the-dark stars gazed back at us. I always loved stars. They reminded me how small my problems were in this big universe.

“Dean and I slept together,” she croaked into the gloom and took my hand in hers. I stiffened, my eyes fluttering shut. Think about stars.

Everything stopped. My lungs burned, my body ached, and tears burned the back of my nose. The room grew darker; my breaths became heavier. She didn’t know. My sister, who was so perceptive, knew everything about me, about my body, about my health, my friends and taste in music, didn’t even know what her boyfriend did to me. Just hearing his name made my heart prickle. My stomach flipped, wave after wave of warmth swirling inside it. But, of course, she was blind to my feelings. She was too busy with hers.

“Was it good?” I faked a smile. And I hated her. And I hated him. But most of all, I hated myself.

She shrugged one shoulder. It brushed against mine. “It was a mistake.”

“You think?”

“I know.” We were still staring at the ceiling and not at each other, and for that, I was grateful. “Our whole relationship is. I think he’s with me because he tries to protect me from Vicious. He doesn’t understand it only fuels the fire in this guy.”

“And you?” I managed to ask through the ball of tears twisting in my throat.

“And me…” Her grip on my hand tightened. “I like Dean. Who doesn’t? He is the definition of fun. But I don’t…”

Love him. Like I do.

“We’re trying to make us happen, but there’s something missing. The magic. He says he’s in this one hundred percent. He acts this way, too. He never asked me about Harvard, though. Not that I blame him, but he just applied, enrolled, and made plans without me. Anyway…it’s cool. It’s not like I want to go with him. Hey, Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your dream?”

I blinked one time, then another. She didn’t know it, but I was fighting tears, and not just because she had lost her virginity to the guy I loved.

“I don’t have a dream.” The answer came after a few seconds of me trying to regulate my pulse.

“Why?”

“Because what’s the point? I won’t have time to pursue it.”

Instead of arguing, Millie took a different approach. She tilted her body in my direction, brushed my cheek with her thumb, and asked, “And if time wasn’t an issue?”

“Then…I guess to be a mother would be nice. I mean, yeah, I want to be financially independent. Maybe become a graphic designer or a nurse or whatever. But what I really want is to take care of someone and love them wholly and unconditionally. And, of course, do it someplace cool.”

“I think you’d make a great mama. Where would you live if you had the chance?” She smiled. I didn’t know where she was going. I didn’t know she was going at all.

“New York?” I contemplated. “Yeah. The Big Apple. Seems like a good place to disappear in.”

She smiled in the darkness. “Then that’s where I’ll take you.”





Eleven Years Ago



I bumped knuckles with Matt Burton after the game, kicking off the heavy mud from my feet. Football season was over months ago, and we’d graduated a week ago, but we sometimes played scrimmages in neighboring cities. Especially with other private schools that were part of the crazy expensive football program All Saints High signed up for every year. This time we were in Sausalito. We’d won. With Trent riding the bench and watching us play—his cast was yellow, old, and smelled like a stale fart—it was my job to guide the Saints of All Saints High from a twenty-five-point hole against the St. John’s Rangers. It was impossible, until it wasn’t, and we scored nineteen points in the final quarter. We made all the plays. We were fucking fantastic, and as the first quarterback playing his very last game for his high school, I didn’t fail to notice—Vicious’s absence in the game (Hawaii vacation) made no difference at all.

Not only did we not need him, but his temper and rah-rah crap proved to be distracting. Case in point, we’d lost the previous flag football game in Monterey, and he was there, double douche canoe galore.

“Gotta love the scrimmages.” Burton slapped my back, and I did the same to him. Jaime approached me, his blond hair dripping sweat to his forehead and messing up his war paint. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a hug.

“Amazing throw.” He rubbed the dark strips on my cheek like he was my fucking girlfriend.

“Amazing everything, dude. It’s me.” I kissed each of my biceps, looking dead serious but obviously screwing around. He punched my pecs and laughed as we all made our way in the rain back to Coach Rowland. Twenty minutes later we were taking showers, getting ready to hop on the bus back to Todos Santos. We’d be sleeping through the nine-hour ride, but it was a small price to pay for all that glory.

After I got out of the showers, I pulled fresh clothes from my duffel bag, ready to get dressed. As I did, a note fell out, drifting to the floor. I caught it before it got wet, recognizing my girlfriend’s handwriting. Did she leave me a good luck letter? That wasn’t out of character for Millie. She was so fucking sweet, it sometimes felt like too much. A casual smile stamped on my face, I began to read.



Dean,



This is the most difficult thing I’ve had to do. I’m not even sure how to start. The one thing I want you to know before you read this is that it’s not you. I care about you so much. You’ve given me what no one else in this town ever has. Security, respect, time, and love.



My smile melted into a frown. It didn’t sound like a good luck letter. It sounded like a goodbye letter. Someone slapped my back as they made their way to another bench in the locker room, and someone else shouted next to my ear. They were all tuned out.



I have to go away. Trust me when I say I have to. Something has happened that I cannot undo. Since the last thing I want is to complicate your life, I need to leave you behind. Please don’t try to find me. It will only make matters worse. I want you to follow your dreams and live your life.

I don’t deserve your loyalty, Dean. I never did.

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