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Guilty as Charged

Page 8

by Harlow James

“We used to go to high school together. Now she’s just a pain in my ass.” I start gathering tools from around us and moving toward the truck to put them away. I lift my hard hat from my head and use my bandana to wipe away the sweat, turning just slightly in my stance to see if Sydney is still standing there, and she isn’t. As I turn around fully, I notice her car is pulling away from the mailboxes and cruising up the street, where she turns into the driveway of a residence I know a family lives in. We’ve been on this site for weeks now, so it becomes a habit to scope out the people that come and go around you.

  “Damn. Maybe you can try to smooth things over though? Because I’d hate to see you pass up a piece of pussy that looks like that.”

  I twist abruptly and glare in Trilch’s direction. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that!”

  “Easy, güey. No need to get testy.” He throws his hands in the air and I continue to stand there, my pulse firing rapidly in my veins.

  “Women aren’t just for their pussies, alright? It fucking pisses me off when I hear men talk about that. Until you realize what women have to face on a day to day basis, being treated like a goddamn piece of meat, I don’t ever want to hear you talk about them like that in front of me, understood?”

  My reaction may seem like it’s coming out of left field to Trilch and Cory, but watching my sister be raped by her ex-boyfriend while she was unconscious is an image that will never leave my mind, and it reminds me why women need men in their lives to protect and respect them. And if I have to teach every other fucker I come across to change their way of thinking to that to, then that’s what I’m going to do.

  “Alright, Javi. I get it, man. Jesus.” Trilch blows out a breath and stalks off as Cory comes up closer to my side.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking fine,” I grate out, throwing scraps of wood into the bed of the truck.

  “If you say so. But hey. It’s Friday. Wanna join us at Gibson Brewery tonight?”

  I shake my head. “No thanks, man. Good work today though.”

  We finish up and I drive the guys back to the office and yard for Gibson Construction, ruminating on how angry I got at Trilch’s reaction to Sydney.

  Was it really just because he was disrespecting her? Which he was.

  Or was there more to my outburst than just the need to reprimand him for his remark?

  Part of me does think it was something else—and I’m not sure if I’m ready to admit just exactly what that was.

  Chapter 9

  Sydney

  Nothing like a splitting headache and waking up to the start of your period to ruin your Monday. Of course, the dinner with my parents yesterday left me with pounding temples before I went to bed—I was just hoping they would have subsided when I woke.

  Every weekend my parents invite me over for dinner, especially since my brothers left for college four years ago. And now that they’re almost done with school, I anticipate that they’ll be forced to attend the same inquisitions I face on a weekly basis.

  “What cases are you working on right now?”

  “You’re making sure to budget yourself each month, right? You don’t want to be one of those women who doesn’t know how to control your spending.”

  Or my personal favorite, “Have you thought anymore about Andrew?”

  But this week my father threw me for a loop when he brought up Elite Gym, even though I knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

  “How’s that little excuse for a self-defense class going?” He mocked as he lifted his wine glass to his lips.

  I directed my eyes over to him in an irritating glare, but then focused back on my plate. “Great, actually. I feel better already.”

  “Ha! After four classes? You can’t be serious?”

  My mother eyed me from across the table, keeping her lips sealed as I prepared to endure to my father’s belittling.

  “I am. The instructors are very informative and encouraging, and I leave there feeling empowered. I also get a killer workout while I’m there.” It’s been two weeks now since I started the class, and after standing up to Javi at the end of my second class, he’s surprisingly cooled off. But the scowl he wears like a badge of honor has failed to disappear as well.

  My thoughts travel back to images of Javi helping each woman practice getting into position last week. We practiced moves like heel-palm strikes and elbow strikes to use during a frontal attack. When it was my turn, my body hummed with nerves as I realized that he would have to touch me as well. The feel of his hands on my hips as he pivoted my legs and lifted my arms sent me into a tailspin. I can’t deny that there’s sexual tension crackling between us, at least on my end. And when I felt his fingers graze my skin, my body came alive like a livewire and left me feverish. The rush that barreled through me made me dizzy and I thought I might pass out. My breaths were short, his voice in my ear cast goosebumps all over my body, and by the time I left, I was so wound up I had to relieve the tension between my thighs myself that night.

  I’ve never had that sort of physical reaction from a man’s touch before. Even though my list of lovers is miniscule, the way my body reacted to him was unchartered territory for me, and it’s making our interactions even more confusing. I can’t decide if Javi hates me just on principal, or if treating me with disdain is his way of keeping me at arm’s length.

  Whatever it is, every interaction leaves me more curious about this man that apparently I grew up with but never noticed.

  But I’m definitely noticing him now.

  “I’m not happy with this decision of yours, Sydney,” my father grated against his teeth as he paused mid-air with his fork full of food.

  “You don’t have to be happy about it, Dad. All I’m asking you to do is accept it.” I dropped my silverware and turned to face him head on. “Why can’t you be proud of me for taking the initiative to empower myself? I’m twenty-eight years old. I know you want to protect me, but I need to be able to live my life.”

  “I will never stop trying to protect you, Sydney. But I would feel so much better if I knew you had a man that could offer you the same type of security that I can. I really wish you would consider going out with Andrew.” He lifted his food to his lips and continued to study me while chewing.

  And here we go again. “I appreciate your concern, but I want to be able to stand on my own two feet. I don’t want to have to depend on a man for survival.” My eyes veered over to my mother and I could see that my words had hit her. She did depend on my father for our survival, but our circumstances were different.

  While my mother barely graduated from high school, I went to college, worked diligently for a career that I felt was honoring a calling, and I don’t want to feel like they only way I can live is if I have a man beside me to keep the bad guys away. I want to be taken seriously, and I just don’t know how to make my father see that.

  “Well, I hope we’ll see you at the country club Friday night for the Chamber of Commerce mixer. A lot of important people will be there and we need to keep up appearances.” His change of subject told me the conversation was over and I was being called upon to be the dutiful daughter once more. Although I’m sure this topic will be brought up again soon.

  As I hover over the sink while brushing my teeth, reliving the conversation from the night before, I glance up in the mirror and see the anguish on my face. It’s like I told Ally—I’m afraid of waking up one day and realizing that I lived my life for someone else. Seems it took having a gun being held to my head for me to come to that realization, but maybe it’s been a long time coming.

  No. Not maybe. It truly has been in the back of my mind for years, but I never felt the courage to take action. Now, with the amount of fire I feel running through my veins, I want nothing more than to keep this momentum going, even if that means ruffling a few feathers along the way.

  With my mind still reeling, I make myself look somewhat presentable, throwing my hair back in a ponytail and dressing
in my workout gear for my run.

  Running has always helped me relieve stress and maintain my weight, but I haven’t had the time in the past few weeks between work and my new class in the evenings. However, this week I’ve made it my mission to get back into my before work routine.

  Even though my body is aching from my headache and cramps in my abdomen, I know working up a sweat will help me feel better. My legs are itching to hit the pavement, so I pop my earbuds in and leave my condo, locking the door behind me and placing my phone deep in my pocket as I exit the steel gates that provide security for my complex and take off on my normal trail.

  Running through Newberry, Texas in the quiet of the morning always helps me put things back into perspective. As I contemplate how strained my relationship is becoming with my father and my desire to gain some independence from my family’s wishes, I realize that I need to focus back on all of the things I should to be grateful for.

  I may not be married and have a family yet, which I thought would have happened by now, but I have my health, a job I genuinely love and gives me a purpose, and I feel like even though things aren’t the way I imagined, at least I haven’t settled in the areas of my life where it matters.

  But if my father has his way, I’ll be betrothed to Andrew faster than I could run and hide. I’m not saying that my father is controlling and doesn’t want to see me happy, but he’s so adamant that he knows what will make me happy, that I feel like my voice doesn’t even matter.

  Andrew is not the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, no matter how right for each other my family thinks we are. Being compatible isn’t measured by what two people have in common. It’s dictated by how two people can balance each other out, support one another through trying times, and love one another, even when you disagree. Ally and Collin’s marriage has taught me that and that is the type of love I want, even if it takes me longer to find it.

  Andrew could never offer me that, and I know that for a fact. He’s been raised to think that women serve a purpose, which doesn’t entail speaking their mind. And as I learn to find my voice finally, I am positive that he would try to smother the fire in me that I’m trying to keep burning.

  And as I recall the list of aspects in my life where I feel I’m falling short and battling for control, Javier’s face pops in, which both takes me by surprise and annoys me. Just a few weeks ago I was admitting to Ally about how the physical satisfaction I’ve experienced in my life has been less than mediocre. But after how my body responded to Javier, I’m wondering if he could deliver the release of control I so desperately yearn for.

  Get a grip, Sydney. The guy barely tolerates you. You obviously shit on him in a way you can’t even remember in high school, or he really knows how to hold a grudge against you for spilling Coke on his pants.

  About a mile into my run, I find my stride and decide to immerse myself in the music buzzing in my ears, fighting to block out my self-doubt and insecurities. My body is coming alive as I pump my arms and pound out my steps, so I decide to push myself and take a turn I wouldn’t normally to add another mile, heading for Main Street as I calculate that if I keep up this pace, I can still make it to work on time. I might just be throwing my hair up in a bun instead of curling it, but at this point, the stress relief feels too good to care.

  As my feet hammer the pavement beneath me, a sudden sprinkle of rain dots my skin. I reach up to swipe the moisture from my face in confusion. Tilting my head up to the sky, I’m caught off guard by the storm that has quickly moved in over our town in a matter of minutes. That’s the thing about Texas thunderstorms though, they sneak up on you and turn dire in an instant. By the time another minute passes, I’m caught in a torrential downpour several streets away from Main Street where I could take refuge under the eaves of a shop.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I curse as I glance up and notice the dark clouds hovering above me while water continues to pelt my skin. I guess I was so consumed by my thoughts of my dad, Andrew, and Javi, that I was oblivious to the storm brewing in the sky. That and the sun was shining between the clouds when I left, so the possibility of rain never crossed my mind.

  Water coats my skin as I try to pick up my speed, inching closer to the hub of town. But then the sound of a car rolling through a puddle to my left catches my attention, especially as it slows near me on the side of the road.

  Like any smart woman and especially after my recent experience, I run with pepper spray tucked inside my leggings for instances like these. People are crazy, and you can never be too safe. You hear stories all the time of women vanishing, and I refuse for that to be me.

  “Need a ride.” That voice. It pulls me to a complete stop as I catch my breath and close my eyes. Why, oh why does it have to be him?

  I turn my head to the car, finding Javier’s smug grin through the passenger side window of his work truck as his hand rests on top of his steering wheel. God, he looks even better than I remember since it’s been a few days since the Thursday night class.

  Water droplets cascade down my face, my hair sopping wet and plastered to my cheeks, my entire body still humming from the momentum of my run. But as Javier keeps staring at me, all I can think about is how much I want to climb in his truck and straddle him. Stupid vagina and her inability to help herself at the sight of him.

  “Nope. I’m good,” I finally reply, relying on my anger for him to keep me from succumbing to his charming ways.

  “Come on, Princess. It’s fucking raining. Just let me give you a ride.” He rolls his eyes at me in annoyance.

  “I don’t need to be saved. I can do that on my own.”

  “I’m not promising to whisk you away to a happily ever after, Sydney. And I’m not gonna kidnap you either. I’m just offering you a fucking ride to get you out of this storm.” He reaches over and opens the door, pushing it open as the rain hits the inside of the vehicle. I arch a brow at him, wondering why on earth he was polite enough to stop in the first place.

  Deep down, I don’t think Javier is a cruel person, but he sure does have trouble letting people in. And I guess the fact that he’s showing me an ounce of kindness is something I shouldn’t take for granted.

  “You’re a damn stubborn woman,” he says as I relent, bracing myself on the handle and lowering myself inside. I don’t respond though and I definitely don’t turn to face him as he signals and eases back onto the road.

  “So you’re just going to give me the silent treatment then after I saved you from this storm?”

  “I didn’t need you to save me. I was fine.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window, stewing on how I ended up in this position right now. I don’t want to be ungrateful, but I’m having a hard time understanding the dynamic between us.

  He leans back in his seat and keeps driving toward Main Street. “Then why’d you get in the car?”

  “The hell if I know,” I huff.

  “A simple thank you would be appropriate,” he argues.

  I let out a long sigh and then turn to face him. The bronze of his skin is so enticing, I wonder what it would look like pressed up against mine—the mixture of dark and light contrasting against each other as heat melted us together.

  “You’re right. Thank you. I’m sorry. I just …”

  “Thought I’d be the last person to pick you up on the side of the road?”

  I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Despite what you may think of me, my mother taught me some manners, and leaving a woman out in a storm is high up on the not to do list.”

  The corner of my mouth tips up. “At least there’s that. I was beginning to wonder if you have a pleasant bone in your body at all.”

  He shrugs. “I’m not nice to most people. Don’t take it personally.” And even though he might see himself that way, that’s not the man I see in front of me. The guy I’ve studied at the gym teaching others to fend for themselves, the worker that helps Andre with whatever he as
ks, the guy that works two grueling jobs—that’s not a man who doesn’t care about others.

  “I’m not sure I believe that. But thank you again. If you could take me home now I would really appreciate it.” I stare out the window and watch the water cascade down the glass.

  “Ah, no can do, Princess. I need to go in here really quick,” he says, pointing to the Home Depot up on the corner as the truck closes in on it.

  “You’re not going to take me home? I have a job, you know.” I reach into the pocket of my leggings to retrieve my phone, looking at the time. “Shit. I guess I’m gonna be late regardless now.” I sigh. “Let me just text my paralegal that I’ll be later today than I anticipated.”

  “Paralegal? What are you now, like a lawyer or some shit?”

  I can’t help but chuckle at his frankness. “Yeah, or some shit.”

  “Does running make you late often?” He inquires, turning his eyes to me for a moment as he finds a parking space.

  “No. Just sporadic storms and kidnappers.” I flash him a playful grin, trying to ease the tension, and then shoot off a text to Tessa as Javier parks the truck. Next, I check my reflection in the visor mirror and grimace when I see a wet dog staring back at me. Embarrassment floods my stomach when I realize that this is what I’ve looked like for the past ten minutes.

  Quickly I remove the elastic from my hair and smooth it back in place, securing it again with the band. Then I wipe the remnants of my mascara from last night that have dusted across my cheeks and take a deep breath of courage before turning to exit the truck.

  In a matter of seconds, my door is being ripped open and Javi’s holding an umbrella over the cab. “Come on. This won’t take long. But since our job is rained out for the foreseeable future, I need to pick up some supplies for my own house.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I step out, grab the umbrella from him and follow him into the store, watching him get drenched in front of me instead walking under the umbrella beside me.

  I follow him through the sliding glass doors, closing the umbrella and shaking the water from it, and then placing it in the cart that Javier grabbed. Silence falls between us as we glide through the store, my feet following him as he navigates the aisles like this is his second home. My eyes stay glued to his back, traveling down to his ass every few seconds as he stalks through the establishment with ease, clearly on a mission. The more instances where I get to peruse his body, the more I feel a throb develop at the apex of my thighs.

 

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