100 PROOF Read online

  I didn’t say anything, but only because I already knew the damage Vin could cause.

  Vincent wasn’t a bad guy, but he was known for making bad choices. He was a good man with a good heart, but he had bad boy tendencies.

  I felt sorry for him, and now I could see why Lloyd never spoke of a brother until now, and why Vin never really talked to me about his family when I was with him. He had not only disappointed me before, but apparently them too.

  MARLEY

  I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, but I did my best to ignore him. I didn’t look his way too often and was glad he didn’t speak much. The only person he really spoke to was his mother, who sat right beside him, and even with her, he wasn’t really into the conversations. He just mumbled a response here and there, whenever she happened to ask something.

  I was seated directly across the table from him, right beside Lloyd. Every time Lloyd touched me, I could see Vin’s shoulders hike up, body growing tense. Whenever Lloyd told a story about something we did together, like how we met during an international flight to Beijing two years ago, Vin would take sips of his soda, trying to ignore him.

  I thought it was going to be an easy, simple night. Boy, was I wrong.

  I wasn’t comfortable at all with this, but only because we knew the truth, and if I could remember correctly, Vincent Chambers wasn’t the type of man to hold his tongue.

  If Lloyd were to piss him off enough, he would most likely explode and tell him everything—like how we spent three long, bumpy, exciting years together. How we partied and had the wildest sex sometimes. How, at one point, he was my everything, and I was his, too.

  Lloyd wouldn’t marry me if he knew the truth about me. All Lloyd knew was that I was a girl born and raised in Santa Ana, California, who pursued a job as a flight attendant. He didn’t know about my past—didn’t know that I was raised by junkies and that I almost became one. He only saw what was on the surface, but his brother knew me deep down to the core.

  Lloyd didn’t know that I’d seen more darkness than light, and I wanted it to stay that way. Unlike Vincent, Lloyd was used to simple things. He was used to an easy lifestyle and for me, easy was hard to come by, but I was okay with playing along.

  He took care of me. There was hardly any drama. He took me in when all I wanted was to escape my past and forget about my memories, especially the ones shared with Vinny.

  My fiancé was stable, and stability was exactly what I needed.

  While eating, I learned a few things that I hadn’t known before. Mr. Harris wasn’t Vin’s real father and Lloyd was only his half brother, which was why Vincent was named Chambers, his mother’s maiden name.

  I knew Mrs. Harris as Rebecca Harris, but Vin only called her Becks. I assumed since his last name was Chambers, hers would be too. He’d never shown me pictures of her, never told me her real name. Not once did he mention his brother’s name, but he did say he had one. Now that I was thinking about it, he didn’t speak much about his family at all while we were together but, even so, he always spoke highly of his mother—his Becks. I never understood why he wouldn’t show me any photos of his family. I had hoped to meet the woman he adored so much—and I did, just not with Vin.

  It was bizarre how alike they looked. He was a spitting image of her, only his hair wasn’t blonde and his eyes were a brighter brown. Hers were a chocolate brown, but very gentle. They had the same narrow nose, hers a few sizes smaller. Even their ears were the same. Yes, I was observing that much.

  I also noticed Mr. Harris and Lloyd treated him like shit—like he was beneath them and could never amount to anything—and something about that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. They passed small jokes about him to each other, but would immediately say they were kidding or tell him not to take it too seriously.

  Vin would grow aggravated but he kept quiet. I could tell he was trying really hard to keep his mouth shut, but I wondered why. The Vinny I knew would say whatever was on his mind without a moment’s hesitation.

  Was he afraid of them? Intimidated by them? I didn’t think Vin could be intimidated by anyone, yet there he sat with his brows furrowed, head hung low, and his lips sealed, bottling his frustrations over glasses of Coke. I was sure he was wishing for something harder.

  • • • • •

  Our engagement party was finally beginning to wrap up, and I was more than relieved. I just wanted to go home, take a hot shower, and forget all about the madness of this night.

  Lloyd helped me stand, and I smiled up at him, thanking him silently. “How about we go back to my house for a few more drinks?” he offered, looking towards his parents.

  “You know I don’t mind a few more,” Mr. Harris said, chuckling as he rubbed Mrs. Harris’ upper arm.

  Mrs. Harris looked at Vin, who stood in front of his chair, shrugging. “I’d rather just go back to the hotel and get some sleep. It’s been a long night.”

  Lloyd scoffed. “Since when do you mind a long night?”

  Vin glared hard at Lloyd, but even harder when Lloyd wrapped an arm around my shoulders and reeled me close. I avoided Vin’s eyes, pulling out my cellphone and looking at the screen to distract myself.

  “I’m tired, Lloyd. I’m going back to the hotel.” Vin ran his fingers through his hair. His brown eyes locked on mine when I looked beneath my lashes. “It was nice meeting you, Marlena,” he said, stepping back with an intense glare.

  I pressed my lips. “You as well, Vincent.”

  “How about we all meet up for brunch before your flight, Vin?” Mrs. Harris called, pulling away from her husband. Mr. Harris rolled his eyes and scoffed while Lloyd sighed.

  “Becks, I really—”

  “Please,” she pleaded, grabbing Vin’s hand. “Just spend another hour or two with your family before you go, sweetie.” She put on a wide smile for him, and when Vin sighed and nodded, I knew she had him.

  Damn it. I was hoping he’d refuse. I didn’t want to see him any more than I needed to. I wasn’t good with awkward situations. Just having him and Lloyd in the same room made me anxious.

  “Fine. I’ll go.” One thing was for sure— Vin was weak for his mother. I could see he would do anything for her, despite how he felt about his stepfather and brother.

  “Thank you.” She rubbed his cheek. “I’ll ring Elton, tell him to pull up and give you a ride back. I’ll catch a ride with Will.”

  “Kay, Mom.” Vin looked up at me once more, very briefly, and then turned his back to us, leaving the party.

  With each step he took, I felt my heart beating harder, but also like a weight had been lifted.

  “See what I mean?” Lloyd laughed. “He’s such a buzzkill. It’s a good thing he’s going back to his hotel. He shouldn’t be drinking too much anyway.” We walked to the exit as his parents followed.

  We made it out to where valet was gathering keys and cars for our guests, and that’s when I caught Vin standing at the curb, a cigarette pinched between his lips. He sparked the end of it and as soon as that first drag filled his lungs, he tossed his head back and released it.

  A chain of smoke billowed above him and I couldn’t pull my eyes away fast enough. With his head tipped back like that, the slight scruff on his jawline and around his mouth, his hair a mess that way, and the small apple in his throat being shown off, I understood why I had been so weak for him.

  He was stunning—dark, beautiful, and mysterious. I was drawn to him from the very first moment I laid eyes on him. I was like a moth and he the flame, luring me in more and more with his bright, resilient aura.

  His eyes closed, like he was trying to find peace—like he always did whenever he would spark a joint or after a sip of his favorite drink, whiskey. In that moment, it seemed most of his worries had faded. With that one pull from his cigarette, he became the old Vincent Chambers—the real Vincent Chambers.

  His head dropped when a black car pulled up at the curb in front of him. He took a few more pulls from th
e cigarette and then dropped it, squashing the lit end with the tip of his shoe. As he pulled the back door open, he turned his head and his eyes found mine.

  I kept walking with Lloyd to the curb as he spoke to his mother, but I couldn’t look away from Vin—that is until he did something I didn’t expect. I thought he would give me a smile or something to reassure me. Something to let me know he was okay with this and would let it go.

  But, no.

  He didn’t.

  He shook his head, like this wasn’t over—like I was being stupid and that he would make me see things clearly, one way or another.

  When he climbed into the car and the driver pulled off, I watched it leave. I couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but I knew he was watching. I knew he was looking right at me as he rode by.

  Like a hand had wrapped around it, I felt a squeeze on my heart. I felt a tug—a pull. I felt something I hadn’t felt in over two years. That game our hearts played. The tug-of-war.

  He wasn’t going to let this go.

  A part of me was afraid of that. But another part of me—deep, deep, deep inside— wondered just how far he would go to have his way with me again.

  MARLEY

  Past

  When I was younger, I lived a basic, almost pointless life. I lived paycheck to paycheck just to stay afloat however I could.

  I painted. I drew. I sculpted. I jogged in the mornings sometimes to switch up the routine, but despite doing it all, it never felt like enough, and it always led me back to the same old place.

  Life sucked, especially mine, but I took it with a grain of salt whenever I could, which was very fucking often.

  I didn’t see Vincent for two months after Zay’s house party and I’d kind of made it that way on purpose. After realizing what I’d done with a guy like him, I kept some distance and pretended that night and morning never even happened. He wasn’t my type, and I was only looking for a good time.

  The sun was perched on the horizon, filtering in through the small, square window of my tiny, box-like bedroom. The light hit one of my favorite paintings on the wall, a picture of a seagull on the beach, a shell between its beak. My pink curtains shaded me just a bit, but not enough.

  I rolled over to a ringing cellphone, groaning as I picked it up. It was my boss, Delaney, calling.

  I already knew what he was contacting me for. He called every Saturday morning, trying to get me to come in early for a shift. Rocket’s was always busy on Saturday. It was a small diner by the beach, perfect for tourists who wanted somewhere small and simple to eat after a swim or tan, or the same trucker guests.

  After taking the call and telling him I would be there in an hour, I pushed out of bed and took a quick shower, doing my best to ignore the rattling dishes in the kitchen.

  I got dressed in a flash, tossing my hair up in a tight ponytail, and then gathering my things. I walked out of my bedroom, intentionally rushing past the room right beside mine.

  I could hear him snoring like a grizzly bear, and I was glad about it. He couldn’t bother me if he was asleep.

  I stepped into the kitchen where my mother stood, her skin a soft shade of brown, like an oatmeal cookie. That’s weird to compare her to, but it was true. She had golden brown skin that used to glow.

  There was a time when my mother used to smell like oatmeal raisin cookies and freshly baked cakes. She used to sell them with my Nana, but stopped soon after Nana passed.

  There was a time when she actually cared about her appearance and kept herself in great shape. I remember she would jog to the bus stop and wait for me, and we would half-run, half-walk together to get back home.

  Now? She was underweight and desperate. The hair that was once full and curly became brittle and dry. Even her skin was rough, and the dark marks on her veins didn’t make it look any better. Her teeth were once white and clean. Not anymore. They’d turned slightly yellow, one of them chipped now from an “accident” she claimed happened while she was too drunk one night. I knew he did it, though. He was always too rough with her.

  The days when she’d bake and take me to the park were long gone.

  Ever since she took him back, she’d changed, and I hated it. If I had the choice, I would have moved out months ago, but I couldn’t. I didn’t make enough money at the diner to afford my own place, and the home we were staying in was my grandparent’s home and had already been paid off.

  My best friend, Noelle, still lived with her parents, but sometimes I would crash with her in her bedroom. She always offered, but I never liked to overstay, so I’d come back here whenever I had to, locking myself away in my room until the sun reached the horizon.

  I could never get a good night’s rest in this place.

  Mom heard me place my bag down on the kitchen table and looked over her shoulder. “Oh.” She smiled, like she was happy to see me. And maybe she was, but I didn’t care. “I thought you were your father.”

  I didn’t say anything. Instead, I went for the fridge, taking out my water bottle.

  “I’m just about to make breakfast,” she went on, shutting the water off and then drying her hands on her dingy lavender gown. “You want any?”

  “No thanks. I’ll eat later.” I riffled through the counter for my granola bars. Of course they were all gone. Things never lasted around here. I would have kept them in my bedroom, but they still would have ended up missing.

  “Going to work?” she asked, still pushing.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh . . .” her voice became faint. “Okay.”

  I looked up, but she was no longer looking at me. She had her eyes pointed at the mouth of the kitchen. I looked with her, and my heart plummeted when I saw him standing there, and not in a good way.

  He had no shirt on, a pair of dirty blue boxers sitting low on his waist. His skin was pale and white, lips dry and in need of moisture. His eyes were almost bloodshot red and he was balding. Even though he seemed run down, he was still a big man. Tall and solid.

  Luke.

  My dad.

  “You never eat with us anymore,” he croaked, scratching his chest.

  “Someone around here has to help pay the bills,” I muttered, picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “I’ll eat at the diner.” I clutched my bottle tight in hand and then walked to the only exit in the kitchen—the place where he stood. “Can you let me through?” I mumbled. I waited for him to move, avoiding his eyes, but he didn’t budge.

  I felt him looking down at me—he was much, much taller—and then he shifted, forming a small gap for me to squeeze through. I charged ahead, purposely nudging him with my bag, hoping he’d move a little more.

  I made it out, but before I could get away, he caught my elbow. I gasped when he slung me around to face him. His eyes bolted on mine, jaw flexing. “The words are excuse me, Marlena. You better learn some goddamn manners in this house.”

  I held his glare, hating that my eyes were just as blue as his. Hating everything about this vile, disgusting excuse of a father.

  “Let me go,” I seethed through clenched teeth.

  He looked me over as I challenged him and then sniggered, shoving me away hard enough to knock me off balance. My back hit the wall and the picture frame of my Nana and Papa rattled above my head.

  “Go. Just make sure you bring some dinner back tonight. Your mother works too hard around here. She needs a night off.” He walked into the kitchen and from where I stood, I could see him wrap her up in his arms and kiss her on the mouth. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

  Guilt swam through her eyes as she looked at me, but she nodded like she always did. Letting him win. Letting him control her. I grimaced at them and pushed off the wall, storming for the front door.

  Slamming it behind me, I jumped into my 1992 Honda Accord, but of course it didn’t start right away, which pissed me off even more.

  “Come on, you piece of shit!” I shouted, twisting the key in the ignition while gripping the wheel. It took f
our tries before finally starting up. As soon as it did, I pulled away from the one-story home, wishing deep down that I didn’t have to return to that place.

  That place wasn’t my home anymore.

  It was hell, and I hated everything about it.

  I couldn’t wait until I could leave and never look back.

  • • • • •

  I pulled up to Rocket’s ten minutes early.

  As soon as I walked in, Delaney rushed my way, holding out an apron. “I know it’s soon,” he said, eyes wide, “but I need you to jump right in. Go clock in, come right back out, and take tables four and eight, pretty please?”

  I nodded with a sigh. “Sure.”

  I clocked in, putting my things in my locker and grabbing my notepad on the way. I approached table four, too busy tying my apron behind my back to notice who the people were.

  “I’m so sorry for the wait. Saturdays are always chaos here,” I said with a small laugh, finally picking my head up. But as soon as I caught the familiar whiskey eyes, my mouth went dry, all words lost.

  He looked right back at me, like he was truly surprised and almost glad to see me. It was him. Vincent. Across from him was Zay, Noelle’s plaything. I wasn’t sure what they had going on then, but she liked him a lot and they hung out often.

  I should have smiled at them, made them feel welcome, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say. It’d been months since I’d seen Vin.

  I thought surely it was a one-night stand kind of thing, but apparently he’d taken it as more. Noelle told me several times that he’d been asking about me. She even gave me his number when he told her to give it to me, but I never saved it.

  We weren’t a match. I was just a girl trying to live her shitty life, and he’d already had it made . . . or so it seemed.

  “Damn. Marley?” Zay asked. I pulled away from Vin, focusing on Zay. “You work here? I didn’t know that. It’s one of my favorite places.” He pointed at Vin. “Me and Vin’s.”