A well-filled-out pair of denim jeans.
I put my hand to the window crank and rolled it down before looking up at the owner of the jeans.
And my stomach dropped.
“Yes?” I squeaked.
“What’s wrong with you, and why are you still sitting in the lot?”
I gritted my teeth, refusing to tell the man why I was sitting there.
My lips thinned, and I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m not waiting all day. Either you tell me, or I leave you here to deal with this shit all on your own.” His eyes narrowed on my backseat. “And what the fuck is all this shit in your car for? You really shouldn’t be driving around with this. It could get stolen.”
I looked up at the sagging headliner on the roof of my car, and wondered if there was a law about killing your ex-boyfriend when he provoked you on the first day of your period. Surely I could plead insanity as a temporary disorder, right?
Then I decided that it probably wouldn’t be allowed. I was too levelheaded, they wouldn’t believe that I’d done it in a fit of passion.
“I’m going to take that as a no,” he grumbled, then started to walk away.
I watched him go, my eyes on his ass, and wondered if I had it in me to tell him to come back.
I knew I didn’t have it, though.
I couldn’t ask for help from him.
I couldn’t even be in the same vicinity as him, hence the reason I was moving.
It was either leave or deal with having my heart ripped to shreds each time I saw him.
I tried the car again, then dropped my forehead to the steering wheel and listened to the rain hit the windshield.
My passenger side door was ripped open, and suddenly my entire car was filled with a man that was entirely way too large to be jam-packed into a seat that caused him to fold up like an accordion.
“You need a new starter.”
Jessie’s rumbled reply rippled through me, causing my heart to pound, and my stomach to summersault.
He’d always had this effect on me, though.
I thought back to the first time I saw him, and the way our eyes had met.
***
I jogged down the steps of the library, taking them two at a time, as I hurried in the direction of where my mother usually parked to wait for me to get done.
I volunteered at the public library twice a week, and I was late for my counselor’s appointment at the local college.
My mom would get me there, of course, but it’d be close.
Lucky for me, my mom drove like she was a player in Grand Theft Auto. She pulled up at the curb of the library five seconds later, pushed open the door and yelled for me to climb in.
I did, and we arrived with only two minutes to spare.
“Thanks, Mom,” I grinned as I pushed the door open to the van. “I’ll be roughly an hour and ten minutes, give or take. Don’t wait for me. I’m going to walk home.”
My mother nodded, waved and then took off once my feet hit the pavement.
I headed for the steps.
The moment my foot hit the first step, I went face forward, falling hard.
I knew instantly that my palm was skinned because blood was leaking down the length of my arm.
“Ouchhhh,” I whined, pushing up with my good hand to look over the wound.
“Here.”
I looked up into the melted chocolate eyes of the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen, and froze.
“Do you want this?” he asked again.
I finally tore my eyes away from his brown ones and looked down at where he was holding a paper napkin out to me.
“T-thank you,” I said, reaching for it. “I appreciate it.”
He shrugged and took a seat on the large brick accent wall that lined the front of the college.
“No problem,” he muttered, dismissing me.
I bit my lip and pressed my hand with the towel in it down onto the wound on my palm while trying not to be too obvious about watching him as I walked away.
An hour and twelve minutes later, I came back outside to find him still sitting in the same spot.
He was lying back on the grass, though, watching the clouds pass overhead.
I walked carefully down the steps, attempting not to appear as if I was watching him like a hawk, and I damn near managed it, too. That is until I got to the bottom step and missed it completely.
Luckily, this time I caught myself on the iron railing that ran up the middle of the steps, or I would’ve face planted again.
“What is it with you and steps?”
I bit my lip and looked over at the man.
“I’m gravity challenged,” I told him. “I don’t reserve this clumsiness just for steps. I’ll have you know that I can also trip on air.”
His eyes finally turned to mine.
“You’re cute.”
My face heated, and everything I was feeling in that moment ripped through my body and likely showed on my face.
Fascination, hunger, humor, a need to talk to this man more.
Yet I didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, I waved at him, not realizing that I’d see him every single day for the next six months during my dual credit history class that the local community college was offering to high school students who wished to start their college degree early.
Luckily, I was one of the five students to do that as a test sample from my school, because if I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have met the man destined to change my life.
***
“Get out of my car,” I ordered the instant the memories cleared.
Jessie crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, waiting for something that I couldn’t figure out.
I tried to focus on anything but that wide chest—a chest that’d grown exponentially since the last time I’d seen him.
“Negative,” he denied. “What I want to know is why the hell you’re acting all weird.”
My eyebrows rose.
“Why I’m acting so weird…” I tested the words on my tongue, staring at the man like he had a screw loose. “You’re telling me that you have no clue why I’m acting weird?”
He gave me a look that clearly said what he thought about how loud my words were.
“Why don’t you just go,” I said. “Before I say something I’ll regret, and feel terrible for it later.”
His eyes were dark swirls of melted chocolate that made me want to stare at them forever.
That’s why I looked away and stared out the window at the rain that was sliding down the glass.
“I don’t see why we can’t both exist here and act like nothing ever happened.”
I closed my eyes, hoping he would stop.
He didn’t.
“You’re making it hard to be around my own goddamn club. I’m a fucking member now, and I can’t even go to an outing without worrying about you and how shitty you make me feel.”
How shitty I made him feel.
He had to be joking.
I continued to ignore him, though, hoping against hope that he’d leave if I didn’t open my mouth.
But what he said next had my spine straightening and my face turning red.
“I can’t fuckin’ breathe,” he said. “I’m so scared that I’m going to break you that I can’t even have fun.”
I turned my head slowly and stared at him incredulously.
Then my mouth took over, and the shit I never wanted to voice aloud came out, letting him in on my own personal hell.
“Either get the hell out of my car, or I’ll fucking leave.”
He looked at me like I was a fucking moron.
I wanted to scratch his eyes out with the pointy end of my cell phone charger, but that would likely mean I’d lose my only charger that worked reliably, and he wasn’t worth the trip to Wal-Mart to replace it.
So, instead, I stared at him, fuming
inside, while he stared right back.
I don’t know what he saw in my eyes, but whatever it was caused his mouth to tip up at the edges in a semblance of a smile.
“Try your car again,” he said.
I did, staring at him while I reached forward and turned the key.
My car started up, and I wanted to elbow him in the jaw when a mocking smile lit his face.
“See you when I see you.”
Then he was gone, jogging as quickly as he could to his motorcycle that was parked underneath the awning just to the right of the sliding glass doors.
The last thing I saw before he started the bike up and roared away in the pouring rain was the stupid Dixie Wardens leather vest that he’d just recently been given.
Ten minutes later and soaked to the bone, I made it back to my store. The moment I reached the covered sidewalk that started to line the small shopping center, I marched straight past my shop and right into Mr. Frederick’s.
Mr. Frederick owned an antique shop that was incredibly overpriced, but he had some good stuff, and got a lot of business, despite overcharging anyone with opposable thumbs.
The racket that preceded me into his shop had him looking up from whatever he was working on, a clock or something. He stared at me with knowing eyes.
“You changed your mind.”
I lifted up a lip and snarled, “Yes.”
He winked. “Just throw the papers in the trash. Rent’s still due in a week.”
I walked right back out, and stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk where I saw Jessie on his bike, staring at me as I did all my stomping.
I flipped him the bird and fished out my keys.
The moment I was back in my shop, I ripped the first box I came to open with my bare hands, breaking a fingernail in the process, and then screamed.
“Goddammit, Jessie!”
I would not give him the pleasure of leaving and making it easy on him. No sir-ree-bob.
My momma didn’t raise no quitter.
But first, I sent his old phone a text message just for good measure.
I might not be able to say to him in real life what I was thinking, but over text messages I sure as hell could.
I fucking hate you so much right now. I miss you, and you’re so close that I can practically taste you. Stop being so mean to me.
***
Jessie
I watched her walk away from me in the rain, then looked behind me at her car into the backseat where I could see her belongings packed to the very top of the roof.
So, as I rode off into the rain, the wet rain stinging my cheeks, I decided that no matter what it took, I’d keep my distance.
No matter what.
Obviously, though, I didn’t factor in the words or the tears. Because had I, I would have realized sooner that it was futile to resist her.
***
“Well that backfired,” I muttered darkly after arriving back at my house. “Fucking fuck.”
I threw my wet shirt in the corner of the room, and then started on my pants.
My cell phone hit the floor with a loud thump, and I cursed as I snatched it up.
The phone turned on as it did whenever it sensed movement on my part, and I stared in fear at the number on the screen.
Shit.
Did knowing that I shouldn’t be reading the messages, messages that were so personal that only the sender should be privy to the words, stop me from reading this one and the previous five? No.
I fucking hate you so much right now. I miss you, and you’re so close that I can practically taste you. Stop being so mean to me.
My stomach plummeted as I read the words, and I closed my eyes as horror washed over me.
I was being mean to her, and I couldn’t even help it. It was a knee-jerk reaction at this point, and I couldn’t figure out how to stop to make it all better.
More, though, it had to do with the phone calls I’d started receiving a little over four months ago. Ones that I never thought I’d have to deal with again.
Margot.
Linc’s mom.
My baby mama.
The woman who almost got my child taken away from me by the government. Not once. Not twice. But six times over the last sixteen years of Linc’s life.
The first two times were while he was still a baby, less than two years old.
And here’s the real reason I was staying away from Ellen: Margot felt like she owned me. Margot was my first girlfriend. She and I were in high school when we first started dating.
I’d met her at my father’s house, and at the time, my young, naïve self didn’t put two and two together. For example, her showing up at my house for drugs. I was instantly smitten with her, and I never really thought about why she’d been at my house. I’d only been thinking with my dick, and what my dick was thinking was all I thought I needed at the time. We only had unprotected sex once, but apparently, just like I learned in my sex ed class, that was all it took.
But once she got pregnant, and I realized that Margot had a serious drug addiction, I finally wised up.
I didn’t leave her, though.
No, I couldn’t.
Who could just leave a girl who was pregnant with your child? An addict who used anything and everything against you?
I’ll kill myself if you leave. I’ll kill our baby, too.
I’ll take these drugs if you’re not here to stop me.
I’ll purposefully run off this road and kill us all if you don’t stop threatening to leave.
All of those things, and more, were words that she gave me at one point in time or another.
The instant that Linc was born, though, I filed for custody of my child and won. At seventeen, I’d had to move out of my parents’ house and into a trailer in their backyard. At eighteen and a half, I had my own piece of rental land for my trailer, assistance from the government, and a full-time job.
And all of that time, Margot was there, dogging my heels, despite my insistence that she needed to stay away.
Without the pawn of our child to use, she was unable to force me to do anything.
So, instead, she amused herself by fucking with my life. Such as trying to pick Linc up from daycare, and later school. Or calling my job and telling my boss that she was my wife, and that something had happened, and she needed me to come home immediately.
Things like that. Little things that were enough to drive me insane.
But then, things would slow down, and she’d leave me alone.
Which was what allowed me false hope when I’d first met Ellen.
Everything had been fine for about eight weeks into our relationship, but then someone put a bug in Margot’s ear about us, and she was back.
Back with a vengeance that bordered on scary at times. But Ellen weathered.
The first incident had come when Ellen and I had gone on our first date with Linc. Margot had conveniently been warned of the impending date, no doubt by my own parents since I had still been living on their land at the time, and she’d shown up and thrown such a big hissy fit that everyone in the vicinity of the diner where we were eating knew my business and heard Margot’s lies.
The second time had happened when I’d finally convinced Ellen to go on another date with me. She’d agreed, and we’d headed out to a small restaurant. Margot had followed us there, from her perch of stalker central. Then she’d ambushed us before going in, slinging insults toward Ellen. Pointing toward Ellen as a home wrecker and a slut. Words that I’d quickly taken Ellen away from, but not fast enough. The words had still sunk their barbs deeply into my girl’s skin.
By the third time Ellen knew what was up. She steeled her spine and gave it back to Margot just as hard as she’d gotten it. And I’d never been more proud of her.
The rest of our small Southern town, however, had not. They’d seen Ellen as nothing more than a slut, and soon those little words started to drift ba
ck to her parents.
That was when Ellen’s parents started to enforce the ‘only at home’ rule. Where I was only allowed to come over when one parent, or the other, was home, and only have a platonic relationship.
But we still snuck around.
We had fun.
She was my best friend in a dark and lonely world, and I needed her.
She made it through and came out the other side whole.
I’d thought that we’d be home free when Margot suddenly gave up, but then her mother had happened, and I had no doubt in my mind that that was all Margot’s doing. She may not have told Ellen’s parents outright about us, but she’d given them enough information to enlighten them to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for Ellen.
I’d bowed out gracefully, not wanting to hurt the relationship that Ellen had with her mother or father. Not wanting to derail her dreams all because I needed her.
So, I’d left. And in doing so, I’d torn both of our hearts out in the process.
What kept me away, though, was Margot.
Her constant interference in my life. In Linc’s life.
Now, though, with Margot back and baring her sharp little teeth, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to bring Ellen back into the middle of the shitstorm that my life was about to become. A-fucking-gain.
It was bad enough that Linc had to deal with it.
Bringing her in would only anger Margot more.
That, and I wasn’t sure that I could handle leaving her again. I wasn’t strong enough.
Another thing that kept me away from her last time was the fear of holding her back.
Now she was an adult. She hadn’t pursued her dreams for whatever reason, and if I were to make a move right now, she was old enough to say no.
But I couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t allow Margot to get her dirty little hooks into Ellen.
I was already having a hard enough time getting Linc to see that Margot wasn’t as she seemed. She had recently tried to reinsert herself into Linc’s life. He was only seeing the nice side of Margot. He couldn’t see that below her fake ‘nice’ exterior, she was a bitter woman who found it entertaining to ruin men’s lives. And I couldn’t help him with this. He needed to see for himself what kind of a person she has become.
The Beard Made Me Do It (The Dixie Warden Rejects Book 5) Page 5