Life Before Damaged, Vol. 1 by H.M. Ward Read Free Book Online Page B

stay in my own little bubble. Pete does have a reputation of being a lady's man. If you believe everything you read, he always has a different woman on his arm. It's a typical case of the rotten apple not falling far from the dead tree.  
    According to gossip, out of the three brothers, Sean, the oldest, is the hard-ass workaholic. Jonathan, the youngest, is the charismatic, yet impulsive fuckup. As for Pete, the middle child, well, he got his Dad's promiscuity and his Mom’s short temper. Their Dad has a constant string of mistresses that he flaunts, in front of his wife, no less. I know. I've seen it in person on various occasions. Some of these women are barely my age. Pete is just following in his Dad's footsteps, I suppose. I wouldn’t know what to do if my Dad acted that way. It probably sucked for him as a kid, always seeing his parents apart and his dad with a new woman. That doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does offer a little insight into Pete now. People become what they see, and he wasn’t shown much of anything good. His mother is a psycho and his dad is a whore. I imagine his childhood was pretty awful.
    "Logan, it's not what you think. I have someone with me and she needs help." Pete's voice is stern, and he looks at me with an odd expression I can't quite place.  
    Logan must be saying something Pete doesn't like, because the muscles in his jaw twitch and his fingers of his right hand tighten around the phone, while his left hand grips the steering wheel increasingly harder. That’s when I notice the thin white lines on his hands. Scars, old and new, marring the skin of his knuckles, proof he’s been in multiple fights.  
    "No, I didn't... we didn't." He says through clenched teeth. I can see his patience snapping away, strand by strand. He's a wild card. The other side of Pete, the fighter, is starting to show through. He looks like he wants to inflict bodily harm to whoever is on the other end of the line.  
    Eventually, he sighs and rubs his eyebrows with the fingers of one hand. His temper seems to simmer down a smidgen. "She's not like that. I—owe it to her. It's the right thing to do. Please."  
    His eyes look straight into mine as he speaks, and it's all I can do not to squirm in my seat.  
    He owes it to me? What was that about? Since when does a Ferro owe anything to anyone?  
    Maybe it was just a ploy, or maybe this is his way of apologizing for having been rude to me earlier when he invited me for a ménage à trois with the red head?  
    That’s doubtful. It’s something else. Pete’s dark gaze darts back to the road.
    "Thanks. I owe you one. Bring whatever you would need for burns and don't mention this to anyone." Done with his call, Pete reaches over and puts the phone in the cradle in front of me. His arm brushes against mine and I'm suddenly very aware of his proximity, the heat radiating off of his body in the close quarters. I mean, the man is attractive, after all. There's a reason why women are always flocking to him.  
    I can totally see the appeal. Tall, strong, reckless, handsome, the bluest eyes ever, kissable lips...  
    He’s impossibly hot. No wonder why Erin calls him a sexy beast. Beautiful and strong. Rare combo. Too bad there are no brains in there.
    “Pete, you shouldn’t take me home. In fact, you should drop me at my friend’s house.”
    He laughs. “The grinder girl?” I don’t get it. He smirks. “Your friend had fun shaking her ass between two guys all night. She probably doesn’t even know there was a fire.”
    “You saw who I was standing with?”
    “I saw you. She was noticeable.”
    That’s not the word used to describe Erin. I stare a hole in the side of his face waiting for more, but he doesn’t offer.
    “Whatever. Drop me at her place. I can’t go home with you. People will talk and my parents will have you castrated. I don’t want to fend off the swarm of women hoping to have your babies, so just drive me to Erin’s.”
    Pete