Jaden

by Shayne Ford

  He muses over what I just said for a moment, a thought erasing the emotion from his eyes.

  “I need to go,” he says, and steps away.

  “I’ll come with you,” I say, running my hand down my back, pulling the zipper down.

  The gown falls to the floor. He cuts his eyes at me as I flick my bra open and let it slide off my shoulders. Unexpectedly, he turns all the way to me, two strides closing the gap between us again.

  I take a step back and lean against the wall. He braces his palms on either side of my head, his eyes searching my eyes.

  “Is that the real reason you pursued me?” he asks softly.

  He tilts his head down for a moment, his gaze sitting on my lips.

  “It’s because I saw myself in you.”

  He gently cups my face, his thumb tracing my jawline.

  “You’re no longer living on the street. How can you possibly see yourself in me?”

  I shrug, my eyes still locked with his.

  “I don’t know, but that’s how I felt.”

  More moments of silence slip between us, my breaths rolling shallow as I examine his eyes.

  “Why do you need the rough sex?” he asks bluntly.

  “I can’t get off. Most of the time, I can’t even get turned on without it,” I say, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.

  “Were you always like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you fuck Nick then?”

  “He...”

  I pause, throwing him a questioning look.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  He gives a knowing smile.

  “I did it for him,” I say.

  “What a noble soul. So you faked it then?”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  He looks down at me, his hands sliding slowly on my chest, cupping my breasts. Goosebumps drape over my skin, my nipples tightening under his touch.

  “I turn you on...” he says, slicing his eyes at me. “Even without the hard stuff...” he says.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “You were turned on when you saw me in that back alley with that man.”

  I nod.

  “Yes, I was.”

  “You liked it?” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine.

  Heat breaks out on my back, wetness trickling in my panties.

  “You’re turned on now...”

  “Yes...” I say with a quivering voice.

  He starts kneading my breasts, slowly flicking my nipples with his thumbs. I push my chest against his touch, my hands sliding to his hips, pulling him against me.

  He presses his body against mine. I let out a quiet sigh.

  “You like this?” he murmurs.

  I nod, my fingers slipping under his T-shirt, brushing his abs. He reaches back with one hand, pulls the T-shirt off his torso and drops it to the floor.

  “I want to feel you, too,” he says as he crashes his chest against my breasts, igniting a fire in my skin, and also deep inside me.

  “Why don’t you like to kiss?” I softly ask.

  A small smile plays on his lips.

  “It’s the only thing that’s mine.”

  “Is there anyone special that you kiss?”

  He clicks his tongue.

  “No. I haven’t been romantically involved with someone in a long time. ”

  “I haven’t been either. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

  “What is it then?”

  The silence stretches between us.

  “Someone... like me.”

  He softly strokes my face, waiting for me to continue.

  “Someone scarred, and broken. Perhaps alone. Someone with a dark heart,” I mutter, smiling bitterly.

  He runs his fingers over my lashes wiping away a few tears, and I close my eyes, hoping that he can make an exception, change his mind... and kiss me.

  His breath fans over my lips, fueling my hope. I feel his tender touch, his fingers brushing my face, his lips so close, almost touching mine.

  I open my eyes, just as he angles his head, and brings his lips to mine. A moan breaks free from my chest, the moment he touches my lips and tangles his tongue with mine.

  He leans into me as I curl my arms around his neck, kissing him back. He deepens the kiss, the intimate connection electrifying my body, stirring a frenzy inside me. I moan softly, turned into a mess of liquid fire.

  Smoothly, he breaks away.

  “We need to go,” he says, his voice cold this time, leaving a blizzard in my heart.

  11

  JADEN

  I can’t ignore it. I can’t fucking ignore it.

  I read the message one more time, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists.

  He knows where you live. Meet me tonight. The usual place and time.

  One thing I learned early on in my life, is that mistakes come with a hefty price, and they’re almost never worth it. Sure, people say you learn from them. Yeah. Well, most things I’ve learned didn’t help me much, and the price was still too much to pay.

  I dismount my bike and swagger across the parking lot, scanning the street from time to time.

  This isn’t the cheapest hotel in town, yet it’s not five stars either. But I understand her reasons. It’s harder to get spotted in a place like this.

  I wish I knew who her husband was when one of his men hired me to fuck her so that his boss could watch us. I never cared to ask about him. Mainly because I almost never do. I don’t need to.

  Frankly, it’s easier that way.

  Had I known she was some local, small-time, drug dealer’s wife, or that she’d become obsessed with me later on, I would’ve never touched her.

  Things went well the first time around. So well, I couldn’t anticipate any problems. And then she wanted an encore––without him watching, as these things usually go.

  She hired me the second time around and generously paid me a few times over my going rate. I should’ve known right then and there, but I couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to decline her offer. The fact that she is hot didn’t help a bit.

  I knew she was trouble right from the get-go, but people do stupid shit when they are broke, and I am no exception.

  I cut her loose eventually, but it was too little, too late. She couldn’t let go of me. I strung her along as much as I could, but she eventually realized I wouldn't fuck her again, so she started to blackmail me.

  Somehow I missed the fact that she wasn’t the kind of woman who takes no for an answer, and before I knew it, she told her husband about me. That’s how it all came crashing down on me. And that’s how I found out who he really was.

  Let’s say it wasn’t a pretty meet and greet.

  No, not at all.

  His goons left me bruised in a parking lot not far from Jill’s. The fact that I left one of them with his head cracked open, and the other one with his balls slashed didn’t help my cause either.

  I stopped going at Jill’s.

  I didn’t plan to go back on the street, anyway. Not so fast, and not after those nights with Senna.

  Things seemed to calm down for a while, and Carla stopped texting me. I was truly hoping she had given up.

  I haven’t heard from her up until now. I wish this were nothing more than a trick to get me back in a room with her again, but something tells me that it’s not. If that’s the case, I can’t bring this kind of people near my home.

  I swing my gaze down the corridor, furtively checking a man and a woman who walk away. I check the room numbers when a door quietly opens, and Carla pulls me in.

  She shows me to the couch, but I know better than that, so I stand. Running her fingers through her long blonde hair, she examines me.

  She tilts her chin up, pointing to the scratches and the bruises marring my arm. Then she flicks her finger to the cut on my lip.

  “Is that him?”

  “No,” I say, lying.

  “You want a drink?”

  “No, thanks.”r />
  She pours herself a glass of gin.

  “I missed you, Jaden.”

  “That’s not why we’re here, are we?”

  She glances at me, sadness flitting through her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’s such an idiot,” she murmurs.

  “Why is he after me?”

  “I broke up with him.”

  “Why the hell did you do that?”

  Her head tilts to the side, a smile creasing her lips.

  “Is that really a question?”

  “Yeah. It fucking is, especially when it comes to men like him. Although the real question is, why would you mess with someone like him in the first place?”

  She nonchalantly shrugs and takes a sip of her drink before she lowers herself into a chair and crosses her long legs, making sure her knees point to me.

  “Why am I still in the mix, Carla? I thought I made things clear.”

  She flicks her hand up in the air.

  “I know. I know,” she says, irritated. “He didn’t believe me when I told him that leaving him had nothing to do with you.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask and tuck a cigarette between my lips.

  She gives me a long sultry gaze as I run the flame over the tip of my cigarette.

  Squinting, I take a long drag and blow the smoke out.

  She searches my eyes for a moment.

  “I told him I’m in love with you,” she says.

  Oddly enough, I spend a few seconds registering the slight swinging of her heel clad foot and her annoying smile.

  What an idiot I was to mess with this woman.

  “Why the hell would you tell him that?”

  “Because it’s true,” she says, her eyes hovering over me.

  I glance at her, cold.

  “We fucked. That’s all it was.”

  A smirk creases her lips.

  “You think you’re the only one who was hired to fuck me? There were men before you, and usually, he joined us, but it was different with you. I couldn’t stand him to touch me when you were fucking me, and then I couldn’t stand him alone, and that’s how I knew. I never bothered to fuck any other escorts on the side. That was the whole point. Not to cheat on him. That whole thing shifted when I met you.”

  Her eyes flash disappointment.

  “For some reason, I thought you felt the same way too,” she says.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You had fun...” she argues, arching her back and pushing her chest forward.

  “I was paid to have fun.”

  Her hand flips her long hair over her shoulder, her lips curving into a flirtatious grin.

  “As I said before, you weren’t the first man he had paid to have fun with me, so I know a thing or two about fucking.”

  “Call it chemistry for all I care but don’t fool yourself that it was something that it was not.”

  “Whatever,” she says dismissively.

  Restlessness grows in me.

  I blow the smoke to the side and stub the cigarette out.

  “Anyway, I told him I no longer see you, but the fact that I’m leaving him drives him crazy. That’s why I wanted to warn you. They’ll come looking for you.”

  She snatches her purse off the couch and fumbles through its content before she rises to her feet. A small piece of paper dangles from her fingers.

  “This is the address that they have. One of his men gave it to me.”

  She hands it to me.

  “They want you, but they’ll use your family if they need to, whether it’s your dying grandma or your pet...”

  “Thanks,” I say curtly.

  Without another word, I pull out of her room.

  Swiftly, I make the trip back to my bike, and as I stride across the empty parking, I make the call.

  “Yes... Tonight. Eleven o’clock. At Jill’s.”

  SENNA

  The phone goes off again.

  It’s Friday evening, and the damn thing buzzes like a bee. Abel, Nick, Adele. Isabel called twice.

  Sadly, my attempt to reconnect with my family failed miserably. Luckily, we didn’t kill each other, and we’d probably see each other again at the wedding, but nothing else came out of it.

  When I returned from my trip, I gave my staff paid time off and buried myself in work. For the last couple of weeks or so, I’ve pretty much lived on the couch with my laptop glued to my lap, and bags of junk food holding me over.

  Jaden and I split ways in front of Jill’s the very same night we came back. He didn’t want me to drop him at home, and I didn’t ask any questions, fearing I might look obsessed with him.

  Not that I’m not.

  He hailed a cab in front of me as I was waiting in my car. Without a glance in my direction, he slipped inside and pulled away.

  I’ve never seen him since.

  A couple of nights ago, I stopped at Jill’s. I asked Scottie about him, hoping he’s not back on the streets turning tricks again.

  The bartender told me he hadn’t seen him in a while which was good news in a way but also bad.

  What if he vanished?

  I throw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a leather jacket. Briefly, I check my reflection in the mirror before I grab my car keys, and walk out of my home. I lock the door behind me, and thirty minutes later, I bring my Camaro to a stop in front of Jill’s.

  I turn off the engine and spend a couple of moments scanning the people standing on the sidewalk.

  There are a lot of regulars–– working girls included, but not one person that I know. I climb out of the car, cut my way through the small crowd gathered in front of the establishment and walk inside.

  For about an hour or so, I watch groups of men and women pulling in and out, people getting drunk, making out, or cutting sordid deals in front of the sports bar.

  Close to midnight, the crowd thins out, and the traffic gets lighter. I slide off my chair, and walk across the room, heading for the bathroom.

  I stroll back a few minutes later when a familiar silhouette slides onto a barstool, catching my eye. Harboring mixed feelings, I veer to the bar and claim a seat next to him.

  He throws me a quick glance before he takes a swig from his drink, his expression hidden behind his glass. My fingers slide onto his hand. He pulls it away and places it on his thigh, not fast enough though, and I notice the bruises and cuts on his arm.

  I raise my eyes and spot more marks on his neck and lips.

  They look days old.

  “Jaden?” I call him softly.

  He tosses his drink back, throws cash on the bar, pushes off the chair and dashes to the back exit. I pay for my food and drinks and follow him.

  The back alley is empty, sunk in darkness. He rushes around the corner and vanishes out of my sight. I sprint to catch up with him, yet by the time I make it around the building, car doors shut closed with a thick, muffled sound, and a big, black SUV backs up and pulls away, leaving behind a swirl of dust.

  I dart to the parking lot, my hand sliding into my pocket, fumbling for my keys.

  Fuck.

  I spin around, and jog back to the bar, storming inside. My car keys dangle from Scottie’s hand.

  “Thanks so much,” I say hurriedly before I grab them and push out the door.

  The Camaro revs up with a roar as I pull onto the main road. I stop at the first intersection and look up and down the street, pondering over my options.

  Following a hunch, I steer right.

  New homes sprawl on both sides of the road for a few good miles before a wall of trees and vegetation replaces them.

  Once in a while, the headlights of an oncoming car sweep my windshield.

  For the most part, the night is silent, and the sky full of stars, a smell of smoke drifting through the open windows.

  As the road gets deserted, and homes are no longer in sight, I begin to doubt I picked the right route.

  A few minutes later, I pull over to the side of the road, cu
t off the engine and listen. Moonlight filters through the trees, a bunch of frogs, and crickets knitting a noisy chorus.

  I let out a sigh when I think I hear a man’s voice.

  I listen attentively. The muffled dialogue fades in and out before a male voice splits the air with a shout. The headlights of a car flicker behind a group of trees, and then I notice the small meadow sprawling not far from me.

  I shift the key into the ignition and keeping the lights off, I swerve back onto the road. Quietly, I roll to the edge of the woods and take a right onto a side dirt road that cuts through trees and leads to the respective meadow.

  The black SUV sits on the right side of the road. All four doors are open. A foreboding sensation washes over me.

  This is way more than I thought.

  A couple of men stand in front of the car, their buffed-up silhouettes outlined by the headlights.

  One of them looks familiar.

  I flip my eyes to the SUV again. The memory comes back to me. This is the same man who harassed me the night I spotted Jaden for the first time.

  They shout at someone lying on the ground, holding him at gunpoint. I crane my neck out to take a better look.

  There are two men down.

  One is sprawled on his back and has his knee bent. The other one lies on his stomach, his hands clasped at the back of his head.

  My heart stops as I recognize Jaden’s emblazoned, black racer jacket.

  None of them move, although Jaden slowly tries to lift up his head.

  One of the standing men barks at him. He freezes.

  I keep rolling until the rumbling noise of my car makes them shift their eyes to me. My heart pounds ferociously.

  Reaching under the back seat, I brush the metal of my gun.

  I keep rolling. They swivel around fast. The very same moment, I flick on the headlights and drown them in a beam of dense light.

  Swiftly, I hit the brakes and pull the gun out before I swing the car door open and jump out.

  “Drop your weapon and move away from him,” I shout at the man who stands next to Jaden.

  My voice rings out cold, not a trace of emotion in it.

  The men freeze for a moment.

  Shrouded in darkness, behind the headlights, I watch them shielding their eyes from the blinding light.