Faking Love (Complete)

Chapter 24 - Unexpected Guests

When detention was over, I got out of there as fast as I could, got my stuff out of my locker and then headed straight for the parking lot. Seeing that beautiful black BMW parked there was just another reminder of Colton and made it really hard to stop thinking about him.

I got in my car and quickly started it up, trying to block out those thoughts of him by focusing on driving as I headed out of the parking lot. I wanted to just get home and finally relax. It had been a really long day.

When I finally pulled up to my house, I saw a really beat up old truck in my driveway that I didn't recognize, and nobody was inside it. I looked around and didn't see anybody in the yard.

My gut was telling me something was off, but I ignored it cause I was too tired to investigate. When I opened my front door, I heard noises coming from the kitchen and I called out, "Mom? Is that you?"

A scruffy, disheveled looking man with a big tattoo of a snake on his neck, walked out of the kitchen and I froze. He appeared to be in his late 40's and he was wearing some oil stained jeans with rips and a mechanic's button up work shirt. I had never seen him in my life. Was I being robbed?

"Who are you and why are you in my house?" I asked in a shaky voice.

He laughed and said in a gravelly voice with a New York accent, "Ah, you must be Sydney. Your Mom warned us that you'd probably be here," he said looking me up and down with a smile slowly forming, showing his yellow teeth. "But she didn't warn us about how pretty you are," he said with a creepy smile, making my stomach turn.

I swallowed hard. "Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms across my chest because his intense, lingering gaze made me feel uncomfortable.

"The name's Jack Bradley, at least, that's what YOU can call me," he laughed. "My real, legal name's only for my close family to know."

I thought that was a big red flag that he used a fake name. I looked down at the tattered old mechanic's shirt he was wearing that had a name tag sewn on the chest that said Skip.

"So your name's not Skip?" I asked.

He looked confused until I pointed to the shirt and then he laughed and said, "Oh no, this here ain't mine. I found this shirt in a dumpster out behind the Goodwill."

"So why are you in my house?" I asked with scrunched eyebrows.

"Your Mom's a friend of mine. I told her I needed a place to stay, so she said she'd rent her bedroom out to me since she's never here anyway and she could really use the extra money right now. She said you wouldn't mind if I stayed here with you for a while."

My stomach dropped.

"Stay here with me?" I repeated with wide eyes. "You're gonna be living here? With me?" I asked, barely able to choke the words out. I couldn't imagine anything worse than living with this creepy stranger that reeked of cigarette smoke and looked and smelled like he hadn't had a shower in a year.

"Yeah, but it won't just be me. My friend's gonna be living here too. His real name's Pedro, but everyone calls him Diablo. He's renting the extra guest bedroom upstairs."

"Ummm, doesn't Diablo mean Devil in Spanish?" I asked, remembering that from Spanish class. "That's a strange nickname to have."

"Yeah, well Pablo just got out of a real bad gang and they gave him that nickname because he would do anything and didn't have a conscience, but he's turning his life around now and going straight. At least, he's tryin' to. Your Mom's a real nice lady, you know, doing us a favor like this, cause it's hard for two convicted felons to find a place that'll rent to guys like us. We're tired of living rough on the streets. It's hard, ya know?"