Heart Broke (Broken Home Book 1) Page 6

  Because I got knocked by a Prick?

  Because despite my best intentions, Francesca still doesn’t want anything to do with me?

  Suck it up, I tell myself, squeezing my eyelids so tight to painfully wring away the tears.

  “Hey,” Teddy’s voice softens as he wraps his hand around the back of my neck. “It’s all right. What happened? Whoever did this to you will get their payback, okay? Just tell me who it was, and I’ll make him eat his own testicles.”

  “It’s not a him, it’s a her.” I sniffle and use the back of my hand to wipe my nose.

  Zane comes up, brandishing the cash in his hand, a crooked expression on his face. “A chick did this to you?”

  “Not the chick. Her father. A fucking rich Prick.”

  Teddy steps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, what? You get caught fucking his daughter or something?”

  I shake my head. “No, man. It’s not like that with Franny.”

  “Franny?”

  “Francesca. Francesca Hancock.”

  Zane starts laughing wildly as he hands the cash to Teddy. “Holy shit! You hooked up with lip-lick from the Spin Motors commercial? No fucking way!”

  My eyes squeeze shut. I’m trying my damndest to keep tears from flowing.

  “Goddamn!” Zane gestures. “I think Rick’s in love with this Fran. He’s got to be. No rich bitch from Uptown is worth that much, I don’t care how sexy her lip-lick is.

  “Fuck you, Zane,” I snap. He’s so damn irritating. “At least, I get off on chicks licking their lips instead of boy bands on stage thrusting their pricks into the camera.”

  “Hey, fuck you, too, Rick.” Zane’s face turns sour as he reaches for my throat and I suspect we’re about to mosh into a scuffle, but Zane’s arm is blocked by Teddy’s big hand.

  Teddy holds the cash up in front of my face. “Rick, you’re short.” Teddy’s been counting the money as Zane and I were arguing.

  “What are you talking about?” The full amount should be there.

  “Did you take some of this cash?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a hundred bucks short.”

  “What?” I grab the money and count through the bills. I’m fuming. “Those fucking Pricks shorted me!”

  Teddy takes the cash back. “Well, I’m sorry, but this is coming out of your share.”

  “My share?” That’s bullshit! “Why my share? I made the drop off.”

  Teddy hands a hundred to Zane. “Everybody needs their share. Zane secured the drugs. Skinny needs his payment. Plus, I fronted the money for the drugs and booze, not to mention, your gas. So, technically, you still owe me twenty bucks.”

  I do the math quickly. “But that doesn’t account for a remainder of fifty dollars.”

  Teddy cocks his head before he turns his back to me with a mumble. “Fifty will go to your mom.”

  “My mom? How the fuck does my mother get a cut out of this deal?”

  Seriously! She doesn’t even know what the hell went down and she’d flip if she ever found out.

  Teddy turns to front me and squares his shoulders. He’s gritting his teeth like he thinks it’s supposed to scare me. “Your Ma needs lunch money for the week. She needs to eat, Rick. When the fuck will you stop acting like a damn child and grow up?” He turns his back to me again.

  Child? Child! I point at his chest, “Don’t call me a damn child. Theodore. And don’t think for one second you’re ever going to get your hands on my Ma. That’s why you want to give her the money, so you can put your dirty Prick in her. But that’s never going to happen. Never. You hear?” I’m screaming, “Over my dead body!”

  “Boys!” my mother shouts as the kitchen screen door shuts behind her. Her huge eyes blink blankly as Teddy rubs his forehead. “Boys, what is going on?”

  “You hear that, Teddy?” Yes, I’m rubbing it in his face. “She called you ‘boy.’”

  “Ricky?” Ma plops the waitress uniform she left in this morning on the counter and walks towards me. Damn it! My mother has just caught sight of my fat lip. “Ricky honey, what happened to your face?”

  My eyes get wet again, so I turn away and hike swiftly up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me, and falling onto the mattress.

  In less than two minutes, my mother enters behind me. “Ricky?”

  I bury my face in my pillow. I hate it when she sees me like this—busted or bruised.

  “Ricky, did you get into a fight? Please tell me it wasn’t with Teddy or Zane.”

  “Why?” I growl. “Because you like them more than you like me? Even though I’m your real son!”

  Honestly, I think she does like them better. They’re charity—her ticket to heaven when she dies, but me? I’m a mistake.

  “Oh, Ricky.” She rakes her fingers through the back of my scalp. “You can tell me. Remember when we used to talk late at night—just like this when you were little? You would tell me about all the girls who wouldn’t leave you alone because you were the most wickedly handsome boy at school. Do you remember how you complained about them always chasing you around? Then one day you wanted to kiss one of those girls and you asked me if I liked being kissed and how to do it?”

  Ugh. “We agreed we would never talk about that again, Ma.”

  My mother’s tone gets serious. “Ricky, who hurt you? I’m not going away until you tell me.”

  I roll over to my back, avoiding eye contact with her. “Nobody. It was over a girl. A girl that’s totally out of my league.”

  “Oh, I doubt that unless...” I hear her swallow. “Were you miss behaving with her?”

  “No. Of course, not. She was drunk, so I threw her in my Thunderbird to take her home and her father thought I was the one responsible for the condition she was in.”

  “Mmm,” my mother moans. “So, you took a punch for her, did you?”

  I exhale, “Yep.”

  “Well, I don’t know who this girl is or where she’s from, Ricky, but if I was her? I’d be dying for another chance to go for a ride with someone as handsome as you in that pretty car of yours.”

  Of course, my mother would.

  “Isn’t that the reason we ended up living in the gutters, Ma? Because you went for a ride with a handsome Prank? I’m sure you regret it. Regret having me. At least a little.”

  My mother withdraws her hand from my hair. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the life you seem to envy, Ricky, the one as a.... what do you boys call those Uptowners? Prick? But you don’t have to be a Prick or a Prank. You can just be a boy taking a girl out for a night on the town and the ride of her life. A ride she might never forget. Or regret.” My mother baptizes me again with her sacred slobber—her kiss landing at my hairline. “Honey, I’ve never regretted having you so I regret nothing. And I certainly don’t want you to have to regret anything either. It’s okay to be that guy, Ricky. The guy a girl could fall for. Be unforgettable and have no regrets. I swear to you, this girl you like so much sees the real you, she will love you no matter what side of town you’re from.” My mother strokes my hair once more before she gets up to leave. “I love you, baby.”

  Baby. I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m a kid. In truth, I’m tired of being treated like I’m nothing more than a Prank, though I’m proud to be one.

  Be unforgettable.

  That doesn’t sound too difficult.

  Have no regrets.

  That also might not be so hard to do.

  I dig into my back pocket to pull out my Marlboro’s and light up a cig before I puff out some smoke. “Francesca Hancock, I’m going to take you on the most unforgettable ride of your life and I have every intention of being the guy you will always regret.”

  Chapter 8

  FRANNY

  Snot.

  There’s so much damn snot and I’m a freakin’ six-year-old again, shaking so much that I can barely stand, my face and arm wet from all the blubbering. Daddy is fuming in front of me and he has his bel
t wrapped around his hand. I know he’ll thrash me, but I don’t care, all I can think of is Rick and how he was prepared to stand up to my father to protect me.

  Daddy’s wrong, Rick is not worthless—he is noble. Rick might not talk as nice as those cultured boys from my school, but he is worth a thousand times more than them. It wasn’t a Prank that got me drunk, it wasn’t a guy from the gutters who encouraged me to try cocaine, and it wasn’t a lowlife from Downtown that tried to take advantage of Mysty.

  “You’d better start talking, Francesca, because my patience is wearing thin.”

  Mom puts her hand to my arm and hands me a wad of tissues. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until the morning, Brock? Let her sober up and calm down.”

  But I want this over with now, giving Daddy time to ruminate on the scenarios he is currently manufacturing in his head will only make things worse. I take the tissues, dry my eyes, and blow my nose.

  “Rick had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “Bullshit.”

  My voice is meek and quavering so I clear my throat. If Daddy is to listen, I have to be stronger. Raising my eyes, I look at him and stick out my chin. As our gaze connects, Daddy relaxes and sighs. “Go on.”

  “I wanted to go to the party because every senior at school was going. Krystal and me never had any intention of studying. I got ready at her place and her sister drove us there.” I pause, but he doesn’t jump in with a mean comment.

  “The party was at Lance Gordon’s house and his parents were out of town. I thought we’d be dancing and having fun but when we arrived, everyone was drinking.” My naivety hits me and I wonder how much stupid can be in one person.

  “Krystal gave me vodka, and I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to drink it like beer, I swear. Tonight was the first time I tried alcohol and back at her house we had a little wine while we dressed. Then after, Lance dared me to drink this terrible stuff called moonshine, and I don’t even know what that stuff is.”

  “Jesus, Francesca, that stuff’ll make you go blind.”

  “I know it was stupid now, Daddy. But everyone else was doing it and they made fun of me when I didn’t try.” Mom hands me a glass of water and I sip it. How much should I tell Daddy? I’m feeling ashamed at how I’ve conducted myself and the stuff I need to admit will send him into a rage.

  “Th-there was this boy.”

  “What boy? The Prank you came home with?”

  “No. From Saint Mary’s. I don’t know his name.” Lie. “He had some drugs and wanted me to try them. Said it was the only way to have fun.” Sort-of-a-lie. I look between Mommy and Daddy and they are both staring at me, but the anger is gone and instead there is something else in Daddy’s eyes.

  “But Rick stopped me taking them, Daddy. He chased the boy away.” Truth.

  “So, I’m supposed to be grateful to that scum?”

  “Daddy, he is not scum. Rick also prevented another guy trying to have sex with Mysty when she was so drunk she couldn’t protect herself, and he brought me home even though he knew he’d have to face you.”

  Daddy mutters something and tosses his belt onto the sofa.

  “On the way home, I got sick and he held my hair out the way while I puked my guts out and he looked after me. Honestly, Daddy, I know I was stupid—but if he hadn’t seen me at the party and helped…” The tears were back but they weren’t because of my father now, they were because Rick had been prepared to stand up to Brock Hancock, because he was there to save me on a night when I had made the worst choices of my life.

  Daddy paces for minutes, his head down, fists clenching and unclenching by his side. “Car keys.”

  I scramble for my purse and drop the keys into his hand.

  “Two weeks. And you do not leave your room all weekend. I want you to think about this, Francesca. Your reckless behavior could have got you hurt.”

  My head is nodding. I’m only to aware of this and if I could punish myself, I would. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

  “And you stay away from that Prank, you hear me?”

  I cross my fingers behind my back, hoping that Daddy will never find out that I’m lying when I tell him, “I will stay away from Rick.”

  In my room, I hear the door lock behind me and I take in my things. There are worse places to be imprisoned for the weekend, I suppose. But it is going to be a long weekend because my laptop is not on my desk and my phone is still in my purse in the living room.

  Flopping down on the bed, I stare at the ceiling and Rick’s dimpled smile looks down on me. He cared for me, saved me, took a punch in the mouth for me—and when he did it, he stole my heart.

  When the room stops spinning, I roll onto my stomach and hug my pillow. I dwell on what happened between Rick and me in the driveway, how his tongue plundered my mouth. I squirm on the bed as the memory of that delicious kiss makes my body hot and sweaty. I want more of those kisses, want to look into those blue eyes, want to feel his hands on my skin.

  God, I want this Prank so bad.

  My chest tightens and my pillow dampens—this will never happen. I will never see Rick again because I was an out of control drunk idiot and he was the one who got punched by my father when all he’d tried to do was the right thing.

  Three days later…

  I’ve never been so glad for Monday mornings. While my friends enjoyed the rest of their weekend, I spent mine with just four walls and my over active imagination for company.

  “I’m so sorry, Franny. I didn’t mean to get you drunk.” Krystal hangs her head and I know that was never her intention. She is as naïve as I am.

  “I can’t believe that asshole was encouraging you to take drugs. I should have looked out for you.”

  She sniffs loudly and I put my arm around her. “It’s not your fault, I should have known better. I scan the school yard hoping to catch a glimpse of Rick but although I can see his maintenance cart over by the gym, there is no sign of him. Not that I know what to say to him but I need to find out if he is okay after what my father did to him.

  “It’s sooo romantic don’t you think. Rick’s like your knight in shining armor.” Bambi has sighed and cooed through my entire story and I have to admit I may have embellished things a little. But yeah, Rick is my hero, and somehow, I have to speak to him again and thank him for helping me.

  “He’ll never speak to me again,” I wail, and the thought has tears springing to my eyes. “He will think I’m just another Uptown Prick, and you know what? He is right. My Daddy has this all wrong, it’s not the Pranks who are untrustworthy, it is us—Uptown snobs. Look at us! We have everything money can buy but we have no moral code. Our boys think it is okay to get girls drunk, encourage them to take drugs, and force themselves on us when we are too high to do anything to protect ourselves.”

  I look across at the football team being loud and cat calling the cheer leading squad practicing on the field. They make me sick. “If that is the type of man money makes then I never wanna date a rich guy.”

  “So, what-ya gonna do?” Bambi asks as I pick up my bag.

  Our free period is almost over and I have to collect my stuff from my locker and go join the lines for the bus because Daddy refused to give me my car keys even to get to school.

  “What can I do?” I wish I said yes to Rick when he asked me out, then none of this would have happened.

  My mind is elsewhere as I’m fighting with my locker. My history book is in there and I have a quiz tomorrow but the damn thing won’t undo. Just my freakin’ luck! In a fit of temper, I kick the door and then yelp in pain as the locker bites me back. Now I have a dent in my locker and a pulsating big toe and my history book is still firmly imprisoned.

  I glance at the clock and see it is already three-fifteen, the halls are ominously silent and through the foyer doors, I can see the last of the yellow school buses roll away. “Shoot.”

  Sliding down the locker, I fold my arms across my bent knees and bury my head in them. Soiled boots appear between my
feet and when I look up, Rick is standing over me with a huge grin on his face.

  “Can I help you with that?” He has his hand outstretched and when I take it, he tugs me to my feet. His arm slips around my shoulder and he whispers in my ear. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “My text book is stuck inside and if I don’t get it out, I’m gonna get a ‘C’ on my quiz and Daddy will flip. After everything else that has happened, if my grades fall, my life will not be worth living,” I blurt out.

  “What’s the combo, sweet lips.”

  I recite it, “…but it’s pointless the mechanism is shot and the lock is just rattling inside. I’ll never get my book out and… you undid it?”

  Rick pulls a screwdriver out of his back pocket and tightens the lock. “There, that should fix it.”

  We stand staring at each other, me with my history book clasped to my chest and him fiddling with the tool in his hand. There’s a trace of bruising on his jaw and a scab on his lip. “Did Daddy do that?”

  He nods and shrugs it off. “I’ve had worse. Friday nights can be rough Downtown.”

  I know he is just trying to make me feel better, but this is all my fault. “I’m so sorry, Rick. You drove me home and all you got was this.” I stroke my thumb across the bruise. “Um, can I give you some gas money? Make it up to you in some way?”

  Rick grins. “Yeah, actually there is something you can do.”

  I reach for my wallet but he shakes his head. “Come out with me, Franny. Let me take you on a date, I really want to get to know you.”

  My brain is screaming, no, but even after all the trouble of Friday night—or maybe in spite of it—my heart is yelling the complete opposite. “Okay.”

  Rick seems surprised and his eyes light up. “You will?”

  I nod. “Um, when?” What am I thinking? There is no way Daddy will let me go on a date with this guy.

  “Now,” he says and grabs my hand.

  The alcohol on Friday must have pickled my brain because I don’t even protest. Instead, I let him tug me along. When we reach the parking lot, the only car there is his cherry-red T-bird and the sun is shining on it, making it look like Cinderella’s coach. He opens the door for me and once I’m inside, he runs around to the other side and leaps in over the car door.