Real Ugly(54)

“I want to know why you give a shit all of a sudden, why you care to know all those little details. What do you want from me, Turner?” I lean back with a sigh and put my arms out behind me.

“Okay, so they died and then what?” I ignore her question.

“Then I'm no different from every other troubled foster brat. I was bounced from place to place, ended up with a family who liked to fuck their own daughter, starve her, and beat her unconscious. When they came for me, I got rid of them. And then I went searching for you, found you, and left with an even bigger problem. I got an abortion and then I moved around the country for awhile.” Naomi pauses and shakes her head hard, like she just wants to forget everything that ever happened to her. “I ended up back in Tulsa which was either a curse or a blessing, haven't decided which yet.” She stops again to narrow her eyes. “Hayden and I formed Amatory Riot and then I ended up here. Any questions?”

I just sit there for a moment trying to process. Jesus Christ. Not exactly what I was expecting. I open my mouth several times and end up snapping it shut without saying a thing. What is there to say to that really? So I fall back on what I'm comfortable with. Flirting. I run my fingers through my hair which is disgusting as shit. First thing I'm doing when I'm done here is taking a shower.

“Tons, but first, I want to know something else.” Naomi sets her beer down and digs out a smoke, holding it delicately between two fingers as she stares off into the distance with clouded eyes. I watch her for a moment and then I look around, checking to see if there's anybody watching. We're pretty well hidden here, drenched in shadow surrounded by brightness, lost in plain sight. I do my best to hold back a grin. I can imagine all sorts of things we could get away with over here. Doubt Naomi would be up to any of it though. “What did we do that night?”

“Pardon?” she asks, blowing smoke out in rings. My cock goes stiff immediately. Smoke rings are kind of a fetish of mine. “You mean sexually?”

“What else is there?” I ask which garners me a sour look. She still doesn't respect me, fine. I can wait for that, but at least I'm not getting angry anymore. As soon as I admitted to myself that I was interested in Naomi, that stopped right away. I try to think of that as a sign that I'm not fucking around here. This is real life shit. “Yeah, sexually.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not telling the cops you stabbed your parents with scissors.” Naomi jabs the cherry of her cig against the cement so hard that her fingers come back bloody, scraped raw by the rocky surface.

“Turner, listen to me right now. If you can't remember what happened that night, that's your problem. I'm not going to sit here and relive it with you. Look, I gave you my life story. That should be enough.” I raise my brows at her and feel another stir of heat in my stomach. Okay, so maybe the anger didn't stop completely, but it's better. Anybody else talking to me like that … Let's just say, it wouldn't be good.

“You gave me a ten second rundown, that hardly qualifies.” With a snarl she stands up and spins around to face me, taking her purse with her, getting ready to run away again. Fucking me didn't change her opinion of my character, I guess. Or she wasn't impressed. I look up at her and lick my lips. If I'm going to win this girl, I'm going to have to use a different approach. The Turner Campbell style is better equipped to rounding up groupies. I stay quiet.

“Turner, listen up. That girl I warned you about before is my foster sister, Eric's sister. She's the one that sent you the video.” She pauses and chews the inside of her cheek. She's already backing up, getting ready to leave. “The reason I warned you about her is because she might be dangerous. She's … fuck, how do I put this? She's obsessed with me.” Naomi pauses and looks me straight in the face. “To the point where she was hospitalized for it. Now she's following me and she's doing … strange things. I'm going to say this once, so I hope you'll hear me out: be careful.”

“You serious?” I ask her, but I can already tell from her facial expression that she is.

“Watch your back, Turner,” she tells me as she turns away. “See you onstage.”

I hop to my feet, ready to follow after her and then force myself to stay back. I've gotta get mentally prepared for this falling in love crap. This shit's a lot harder than I first thought. Besides, the war of love can't be won with greasy hair and sweaty fucking pits.

I head back to the bus to rethink my game plan.





I storm across the parking lot, angrier than I was before, so pissed off that I can hardly think straight. My hands are shaking, and I see red. The problem is, I can't figure out why. Nothing happened just now, and I hardly told Turner anything. I was going to, was going to break it down, feed him every last detail, but then I remembered: I hate him. I hate him, and I fucked him yesterday. Gonna have to get used to dealing with that.