Jackson's Girl: Being His Duology

by Charlie R. Love

  Grant was by my side in an instant, and though that stopped the confrontation I knew Beth was dying to have, it didn’t stop her lips from whispering the word ‘whore’ to her friends. They all laughed, loud and obnoxious, garnering the attention of the students nearby who all turned and looked at me.

  I wanted to ask her why it made me a whore to be with a boy I genuinely like, or why girls always get those kind of labels. I didn’t say it though, least of all, she would think I was provoking her.

  Grant sat next to me throughout the class, even though we had assigned seats, and his was way up in the front.

  I gave his hand a quick squeeze before letting go. My way of saying thanks. He smiled at me, and I could see my best friend in that smile again.

  Class went by in a blur, and I kept my head down and busied myself with taking notes.

  The bell rang, and I quickly grabbed the papers and stuffed them in my backpack. As I walked up to the front of the class and to the door, someone shoved me from behind, using what felt like their elbow.

  The pain was sharp and acute. I would have fallen flat on my face had Grant not hold onto me. I looked to find Grant glaring at someone. Following his gaze, I saw Courtney, Beth’s best friend, looking at me, a smug smile on her face.

  Grant made a move toward her, but I stopped him with my arms around his waist. “Don’t. It’s not worth it,” I whispered.

  I could feel the tension and anger coming off of him, but after a moment or two, he wrapped his arms around my shoulder and led me out of there.

  A quick glance around the room and I found most of the other student’s eyes on me. Some drawn down in sympathy, other with malicious glee, and a few lecherous glances from the guys.

  I ignored them and focused on walking out of there with my emotions intact. I would not give them the satisfaction to see me react.

  Grant waited for me by my locker while I put my stuff away. “You go get lunch. I have to go to the bathroom first,” I said quietly. I needed to clean up my face and made sure I gave nothing away when I see Jackson again.

  “I can wait for you,” he insisted.

  I shook my head as a small smile form. “You can’t just stand guard in front of the girl’s bathroom. That would look creepy.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t want you alone.”

  “I was alone in most of my classes this morning,” I said.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t have Beth in any of your other classes. And she’s just getting started.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just Beth and her friends. They’re probably in the lunchroom anyway. Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”

  I gave him a gentle shove toward the lunchroom, which he seemed reluctant to go, but after the third time of me telling him to, he finally gave in. Before he left, he said, “You have five minutes. If I don’t see you in five minutes, I’m going in there.”

  I rolled my eyes and mocked salute him. “Yes, sir.”

  With one last glance my way, he slowly walked to the lunchroom. I exhaled a long sigh, half relieved that at least half of the school day was finished, and half disquieted, wondering what more was going to come my way before school was let out.

  I walked to the empty bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. My mascara was running down my cheeks by the time I finished, and I was thankful for the makeup remover wipes I brought with me.

  After reapplying a little mascara to my eyelashes, I looked and felt better. I hitched my backpack up one shoulder and walked out to the hallway.

  No one was around, most of them either in class or in the lunchroom. Or at least I had thought so until I felt eyes on me from behind.

  Cautiously, I turned around and jumped in surprise when my eyes connected with Ethan’s.

  He had his back leaned against one of the lockers, his stance relaxed. But there was something about his face that set me on edge.

  It wasn’t that he looked especially mean then, it had more to do with the way his eyes moved up and down my body that sent all the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Last I check, I go to school here,” came his curt replied.

  “Not for a while.”

  “And that was my mistake, wasn’t it?” He pulled himself away from the locker and made his way toward me. I resisted the urge to take a step back. I wouldn’t let him see me scare.

  “What do you mean?” I asked when he stopped no more than a foot from me.

  “That’s why you went to him. Because I’m never around, and he’s always here, smiling at you, kissing you in the middle of the hallway,” he said, his lips curled back in disgust.

  “That’s not your only mistake,” I replied boldly. Which was probably a mistake, because the next thing I know, Ethan's hands were on my biceps, pulling me until the upper part of my body laid plastered against his. “Let go of me,” I said, detecting a slight tremor in my voice. I hated how frightened I sounded. “Ethan, you’re hurting me.”

  Whether he conscious about the act or not didn’t matter, because as soon as the words left my mouth, his hands tightened around me even more. “You bitch! You don’t get to leave me for someone like Jackson Wright! I won’t have it.”

  “Is this what this is about? Your ego?” I wasn’t sure what baited me to say what I said next; all I knew was that after the many months, even years of frustration that followed being his girlfriend resurfaced. “Well, newsflash Ethan, you weren’t that great of a catch to begin with.”

  He pushed me, and I fell roughly onto the floor. I looked up at him in surprise.

  During the time we were together, he had never been physical with me. I didn’t think he was capable of it. But apparently, he was, because when I met his eyes, instead of finding remorse like I had expected, I found icy green eyes looking down at me, sharpened by the wicked smile he had across his face.

  He looked as if he was enjoying this.

  He was.

  I knew it then. He enjoyed seeing me hurt.

  Ethan took a step toward me, and I scrambled back, pushing my feet against the dirty tile until I could feel the lockers against my back.

  “Ethan.” His name came out a whimpered. I didn’t want to beg. But the way he moved toward me like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on me… I was so damn afraid of him.

  I flinched when he moved and hooked his arms under my armpits, pulling me up in a standing position before he shoved me against the locker doors. The metal clanged loudly in the silent hall.

  “Please.” Ethan was unpredictable. And unstable. Did I ever think he was the safer choice between Jackson?

  He moved in close until his body covered mine, one of his hand held me still, the other moved to my breast. He squeezed roughly, and I cried out in pain.

  I tried to push him away, but he was much too strong, too big. I hated the way he touched me. I hated how my skin crawled when he moved that hand down to the hem of my shirt and upwards again, inside, until his bare hand touched my bare skin.

  “I’m going to show you what it feels like to be with a man,” he promised. “A real man. I’m going to ruin you so good, baby, you’d never be able to go back to Jackson and become his little whore.”

  He leaned down as if to kiss me. I closed my eyes and braced for it. I didn’t want to see him as he took the kiss I was no longer willing to give.

  But his lips never came. He was no longer touching me. One second, he was holding onto me, the next, he was gone.

  I heard him grunted in pain, and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised and relieved to see Jackson standing there, between me and Ethan, who was now lying on the floor, cupping his bloody nose.

  Jackson pulled him up from the ground, in the same way Ethan had pulled me up—roughly and by the arms, slamming him against the wall opposite of where I stood, frozen.

  My heart pounded in my chest, I wanted to call out to Jackson. I didn’t much care that Ethan was getting the beating
he deserved, I just needed Jackson with me then.

  Someone walked up to me and wrapped a massive arm around my shoulder. I flinched and tried to move away.

  “Shh, Emily. It’s okay. It’s me.”

  I looked to the voice and met gray eyes pinched together in concern. Aiden.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said, walking me away from the fight. A couple of students who heard the commotion came out, and as we turned the corner leading outside, Mr. Somerson, the history teacher, ran past us.

  I knew what it meant then. Jackson was going to get in trouble for fighting on school grounds because of me. I tried to get out of Aiden arms and back to Jackson, but his hold on me stayed firmly in place.

  “Jackson can take care of himself,” Aiden said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  He led me out to the student parking lot and to Jackson’s car. Aiden unlocked the car with Jackson’s key and opened the passenger side door for me, pushing me gently into the seat.

  He knelt down by my side. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, my voice cracking at the end.

  He pulled a water bottle out of his backpack and handed it to me. “Here, drink this.”

  I held the bottle in my hand but made no attempt to drink it. For several long moments, I sat there, looking down at the water bottle until it started shaking, and until the image became so blurry, no matter how hard I blink, how fast, it remained so.

  I let out a sob, and I tried to turn away from him, but Aiden caught me in his arms before I could, and then I was crying, burying my face in his shoulders, my tears wetting his shirt.

  He shushed me, telling me how brave I was, how strong I was. I didn’t feel especially brave then. I was a coward, a weakling. I hadn’t been able to fight him off, and if Jackson hadn’t got to me when he did… I didn’t want to think about what could have happened.

  Another sob came, and Aiden’s arms tightened around me a fraction.

  “How is she?”

  I pulled away quickly and looked up to see Jackson standing there. I didn’t wait. Aiden moved out the way quickly enough for me to get up on shaking legs, and I threw myself in Jackson’s arms.

  He caught me like I knew he would, and then it was his turn to whisper comforting word in my ears. He didn’t tell me I was strong. And as much as I appreciated the comforts Aiden offered, it was nothing, nothing compared to how Jackson made me feel when he whispered in my ears how much he was glad I was okay, how he was sorry he wasn’t there before, and how he would never let me go.

  The last sentence was the one I clung onto the most.

  I never wanted to be let go.

  Kept.

  I wanted to be kept by Jackson Wright. Already, I had grown to need him more than what was healthy. And it didn’t even matter to me.

  “Come on, let me get you out of here,” Jackson said. I nodded against his chest.

  He brought me back to the car and helped me buckled in. I noticed his knuckles then, bloody and bruised. Without thinking, I grabbed ahold of the hand and raised it to my lips, pressing a tender kiss to his wound.

  He moved a strand of blonde hair that got stuck to my tearstained face away and hooked it behind my ears. Then he cupped my cheeks and said softly, “I’m okay.”

  “You’re okay,” I repeated softly. I watched as he stood up and closed my door, moving around the hood and to the driver’s side. He got in and started the car right away, putting the heat on full blast even though I knew he wasn’t cold. The heat was for me.

  I grabbed his hand until he looked at me. “I was supposed to meet Grant in the lunchroom. He must be worried about me.”

  Jackson rolled down the window and called out to Aiden. He popped by the windows seconds later. “Yeah?”

  “Can you find Grant and tell him I’m taking Emily away?”

  “Yeah, man. I’ll find Grant.” He shot me a worried glance, one I pretended not to notice, and walked back to the school.

  Jackson pulled out of the parking lot without another word. I wanted to talk to him. Asked him what happened with Ethan. What happened to him. Mr. Sorenson obviously stopped the fight, and I wanted to know how much trouble Jackson was in.

  I didn’t ask any of that. I didn’t say anything at all. Instead, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cushioned seat and slept.

  I wasn’t sure how long we had been driving for, a half an hour maybe, when the car stopped for the second time. The first time, Jackson had made a quick stop at his house. He thought I was asleep and didn’t wake me. He was in and out of his house in under fifteen minutes, a small black tote bag in hand, which he placed on the back seat. And then we were off.

  I opened my eyes, first taking in my surrounding then to Jackson, who was staring at me, an unnamed emotion flitted across his eyes.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “My grandparent’s house.”

  I eyed the modest house in front of us. And though it wasn’t overly large in size, it was still nice. It seemed so alone standing by itself with no other neighbors in sight.

  The land that surrounded the house was flat and cleaned until a few miles to the left, and I could see evergreen trees stretching out for miles and miles.

  Surrounded by nothing but land and cleaned air, it spelled out money without going overboard. The outside of the house was a deep brown color, the white porch railing surround most of the front of the house and well to one side of it.

  There was even a porch swing, seemingly sturdy. Nothing compared to the one I had at home.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “My grandfather died two years ago and left the house to me. It came in my possession when I turned eighteen back in December. I thought we can stay here for the day. I know you don’t want to go back to school and since your dad is home, I didn’t think you want to go back home either. I mean we can go wherever you want, it doesn’t t have to be here, it’s really your choice…”

  He trailed off when I placed my hand on his thigh. He seemed so nervous, a look I was unfamiliar with when it came to him. I gave his leg a reassuring squeeze.

  Reaching behind him, he grabbed the tote bag he brought with him.

  I looked at him questioningly. He smiled. “I brought over some books and movies from my house. That way, if you find you don’t want to spend time talking to me, you can always grab a book or watch a movie.”

  “Thank you,” I said, blinking rapidly to rid my eyes of the moisture I could feel building up.

  “Hey, what’s this?” He used his thumb to wipe away a stray tear that fell. “Why are you crying. Did I say anything to upset you? You obviously don’t have to read a book or watch a movie if you don’t want to. We can do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want. You don’t even have to hang out with me. Just tell me to go away, and I’ll give you some privacy…”

  “Jackson.” His name from my lips stopped his rambling. He looked at me. I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s just… you’re so nice to me.”

  He seemed taken back. “That’s a strange thing to say. You obviously hadn’t been treated well by the people in your life, but I swear to you, Emily. I am going to make it my life’s mission to make sure you never questioned me.”

  I shook my head and smiled at him, though I knew my smile showed my uncertainty. And why wouldn’t I be uncertain?

  Jackson was incredibly handsome, popular, and so out of my league. Was it wrong for me to doubt his motive, as fleeting as that doubt may be?

  I didn’t know what to say, so I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned toward him until I was close enough, and I kissed him.

  Jackson froze for a second or two, and then he was kissing me back, his full lips covering mine. They were as soft as they had been this morning.

  But unlike this morning, we were alone, and that made the kiss so much more dangerous. Jackson cupped the back of my neck with one hand and pulled me in. He licked my bottom lip with his tong
ue until I opened up to him and then his tongue was gliding against mine, playing with it, exploring it, as if he had never kissed before.

  I certainly had never been kissed like that.

  By the time we pulled away, we were both trying to catch our breath, breathing into each other. I opened my eyes and found that Jackson’s eyes were still closed, his forehead leaned against mine as if he was unable to hold onto the weight himself.

  I never wanted to forget how it felt then. That maybe, just maybe, it would mean he was as crazy for me as I was for him.

  When he opened his eyes, I could see a few gold flecks glimmering in them from the afternoon sun.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” I said, softly.

  He didn’t respond to that statement. Instead, he smiled and kissed me once more, this kiss tamer and much gentler than the last one.

  “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  I blew out a breath. “Okay.”

  I moved back to the passenger seat, while Jackson hopped out the car and proceeded to open my door for me. With one hand holding mine, the other holding the tote, he made his way to the door.

  He hooked the tote onto his shoulder and inserted the key, unlocking it. Holding the door opened, he let me in first before coming in and closing the door behind. Goosebumps rose on my skin from the chilly air.

  I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to ward off the cold.

  “Sorry,” Jackson said. “It’s been a couple of days since I’ve been here.” He made his way to the thermostat and turned it up.

  “Do you come here often?” I asked.

  “You can say that.” He turned and pulled me in. Wrapping his arms around me, he rested his chin on the top of my head, mumbling, “Better?”

  I nuzzled into his chest, and only after a moment of hesitation, moved my hands to the inside of his shirt. His skin was warm and comforting.

  It instantly replaced the memory of the way Ethan’s hands had felt underneath my shirt, because like this, Jackson was willing. Jackson was yielding to me, giving me all the control I had lost when Ethan put his hands on me.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’ve been through something traumatic,” he said. I shook my head, but I wasn’t sure what exactly I was saying no to. “And I need to let you know that we will not do anything you don’t want to do, or feel uncomfortable doing, okay?”