by Melody Anne
A dark gray T-shirt hugged his muscled back, and I saw the tattoos crawling over his arms.
Shit, shit, shit.
“And Avery Melrose, we already know you’re here, Princess.”
This time, I heard actual laughter.
“All right, everyone, load up.” Rick walked toward the doors, and through them I could see an orange bus waiting. What the hell was with all the orange, anyway? “Miss Melrose, if you would be so kind as to put the goddamned jumpsuit on, we can all start our day. Unless you’d like your personal assistant to get you a fresh coffee before we go, Princess?”
Rick stood with his hands on his hips staring at me. Rage burned inside me, and the heat crept up into my cheeks. I tossed my unfinished coffee into the trash and stepped gingerly into the hideous outfit, yanking it up over my arms.
The rough material scratched along my skin, but I pulled the zipper up until I was encased in orange like everyone else. I lifted my chin and stormed past Rick, who held the door open.
The bus smelled like old gym socks, and I slid into an empty seat near the back. Immediately, I turned so that my back was to the aisle. My father was insane if he thought I was going to spend three hundred hours in an orange polyester jumpsuit, doing who knows what.
The seat next to me shifted, and I felt someone sit down. There were thirteen of us. There had to be at least two dozen seats on the bus. What the hell?
The bus hissed and jerked forward, and we pulled out of the parking lot.
A familiar scent drifted toward me, and I turned even farther away. Because it brought back unwanted memories of what he tasted like, felt like under my hands.
He leaned over, and I felt his shoulder brush against my back. An involuntary shudder raced through me. Go away.
He stayed quiet until I couldn’t take it anymore. I rounded on him, eyes narrowed in a glare.
“What?”
He looked at me from the corner of his eye and crossed his arms over his chest, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Nothing. Just . . . Fancy meeting you here.”
CHAPTER SIX
Seth
What the fuck was I doing?
There was an entire bus of empty seats to choose from, and I sat down next to her. Next to the stuck-up bitch who blew me off—unfortunately, not literally—Saturday night.
I’d tried to write her off after she stormed away, even went back into the bar, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she melted against me when we danced. And how she tasted when we kissed. A pretty brunette made it clear she’d be more than happy to go home with me that same night, but I declined.
Obviously being behind bars had fucked with my head more than I knew.
I’d gotten to the Works building about a half hour early because my truck, the piece-of-shit beast Ryan had been taking care of for me, didn’t want to start this morning, and when she finally did, I didn’t want to take the chance that she’d crap out on me again. Not showing up for day one of community service would be about the worst thing that could happen right now.
I had enough shit going on to deal with.
Waiting for a call back from the dozen lawyers I’d left messages with on Sunday was at the top of the list. It was a long fucking shot, finding someone who could take on my case, but I had to do something.
I’d been on edge all afternoon, staring at the prepaid cell phone I’d picked up at the corner grocery store.
And then . . . fucking Fancy walked into the lobby of the Public Works building. When she took off her sunglasses, I thought I was seeing things. She even brought a goddamned Starbucks coffee with her. Her perfectly manicured fingernails wrapped around the cup when she scanned the room, barely glancing at the rest of us. Like we didn’t even matter.
Tiny diamonds sparkled in her ears, and I would bet the measly amount of cash I had they were real. Even her jeans were designer. Stripper, my ass. Maybe a high-paid escort, but not someone who twirled topless around a pole.
Then, when she opened her mouth, all kinds of crazy came out. She actually expected to answer phones like some kind of secretary as her CS instead of picking up trash like the rest of us.
I almost laughed out loud listening to her.
She acted like she was better than everyone there. Except she wouldn’t be here, riding this godforsaken bus with the rest of us, if she was.
“So they must pay dancers a lot if you drive a Beemer and wear diamonds in your ears. You must be one of those that do private dances, huh? Rich old guys with hard-ons for pretty young things like you? Or maybe a sugar daddy?”
“Fuck you,” she snarled.
“Almost did, sweetheart, remember? Against my piece-of-shit truck too.”
“You’re an asshole.” She tilted up her chin and turned away from me to look out the window. I knew her type. Christ, I should have seen it Saturday night, but my dick had been doing all the thinking for me.
“Sugar Daddy couldn’t buy your way out of this, huh? Too bad for you, Princess.” I was being an ass, but I couldn’t stop myself. Everything in my life was shit right now, and some bored spoiled brat had tried to use me for her own amusement Saturday night. Fuck that. Been there, got the T-shirt, and was never going back there.
“What the hell is your problem?” She jerked her head around and glared at me. “I didn’t ask you to sit here. In fact, there is almost an entire bus full of empty seats. Why don’t you slither along and find another one?”
I made the mistake of meeting her pissed-off gaze.
Fuck me. Her eyes were stunning.
Bright blue that faded into baby blue around the edges. The black in the middle grew bigger, and she looked away. The longest fucking eyelashes I ever saw shadowed her cheeks. She had on minimal makeup, not like the other night, and it suited her so much better. There was even a light sprinkling of freckles dotting her nose.
Why the fuck was I noticing her freckles?
Or the way her pulse flickered in her neck. Erratic and quick.
I wanted to run my tongue over it again.
No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to touch her at all. God, she smelled good. Flowers and vanilla. What the hell was wrong with me? Why didn’t I get up and move right the fuck now?
“I obviously thought I would never see you again,” she said, waving her hand as if she were dismissing me. “So let’s just pretend that we don’t know each other and get the next three hundred hours over with without speaking to each other again, okay?”
Her condescending tone ignited the anger that always simmered just below the surface. It had been there since that night with Sara and Davis. No way in hell was this chick getting off that easy.
I leaned over, and her eyes widened slightly. Her lips opened just enough to allow a quick release of air. “I would, Avery, but how can I just pretend we don’t know each other when I’ve had your tongue in my mouth and your nipples between my fingers?”
It took a second for my words to sink in, but when they did, she growled, a low sound that sent all the blood rushing to my dick. I shifted to ease the sudden ache. Thank God for the loose orange overalls.
I should have fucked that brunette.
“If I had any leftover doubt you were an asshole, this would definitely take care of it.” Anger radiated from her, but I saw the way her pupils dilated when I dropped my gaze to her lips. God, she was a hellcat. I bet she was fucking amazing in bed. That was something I wanted to find out.
No. Fuck that. I didn’t want to find out.
This little back-and-forth was clearly pissing her off, but I could tell it excited her too. That much was obvious. Now I had to figure out what the fuck I wanted to do about it. She was already under my skin, and damn me if we weren’t going to be around each other for eight fucking weeks.
“I’m not going to talk to you anymore, and you can bet your ass I’m not going to sleep with you, so don’t even bother trying. Do I need to involve the supervisor? Because I will.”
I held up my
hands in surrender. More for show than anything. If she thought she won this round, she’d let her guard down. I had three hundred hours to fuck with her. Yep, I already decided by the time we were done with CS, she would be begging me to fuck her against the bus, and then I could tell her not in a million years and walk away from her.
See how she liked it.
“I’ll be right over there, if you need me. Just say the word.” I winked at her and almost laughed when she growled again.
I moved to the middle of the bus and sank down into an empty seat.
“I won’t tell you no,” a female voice said softly.
A head peeked over the top of the seat in front of me and I saw the only other girl in our group. Her bright pink hair was spiked up in the front, and when she smiled, I saw a stud in her tongue. At first glance earlier, I’d thought she was about thirteen, but up close, I could see the years on her face.
The gauntness that only drugs could cause.
Another face popped into my head, and my insides twisted with fear and pain, a cold dose of reality that immediately extinguished any desire in my body.
“What’s your name?” I asked before I even realized it.
“Sasha.”
For one second I froze. I thought she said Sara and panic started to take over. Shit, I needed to get it together. I scrubbed my hand over my face. My new apartment was too quiet to sleep much. I was used to noise all night long. “Could you let me know when we get there, Sasha? I’m kinda beat.”
“Sure thing. What’s your name anyway?”
“Seth.”
“Well, Seth, here’s to three hundred hours of picking up shit with a dozen of our closest friends.”
I laughed. “No kidding.”
Sasha ducked back down into her seat, and I closed my eyes, letting the rocking movement of the bus and the voices around me lull me to sleep.
“Hey, sleeping beauty, time to pay your debt to society.”
A foot kicked my boot and my eyes flew open. I was up and had my fingers wrapped around the guy’s shirt before I was fully awake.
“Whoa, back off right now unless you want to go back to the slammer.”
Shit. I released Rick’s shirt immediately, took a step back, and held my hands up. “Sorry, man. Won’t happen again.”
Rick glared at me for a few more seconds before he started toward the doors. I grasped the seat back in front of me and exhaled roughly. I was still jumpy from prison.
Outside, I could see everyone lined up waiting for their assignments.
I squeezed my eyes open and shut, then without looking back, I pushed off the seat and walked off the bus. After a few seconds, Avery stumbled out behind me, and her gaze skirted right past me as she went to the opposite end of the line. Shit. She’d seen me and Rick. Now she probably thought I was some psychopath one wrong move away from the loony bin.
It felt like I swallowed a bowling ball.
I didn’t mean to grab Rick like that. It was pure fucking instinct. A year of instant reaction that might save your ass. I laced my fingers behind my neck and exhaled slowly.
“Okay, this”—Rick held up a stick with a wicked-looking point on it—“is what you use to pick up trash along this three-mile stretch of road. And these”—he held up a box of blue disposable gloves—“are what you use when you can’t stab it. Split up into pairs. Grab a bag, a stick, and enough gloves to get this done.”
Everyone shuffled forward to get the supplies.
“Ladies, since there are two of you, you’re a team,” Rick shouted.
I glanced over to see Sasha glaring at Avery. Avery didn’t look too happy about the match either. In fact, she looked a little green about all of this. Yeah, she probably never even took her own garbage out to the curb, if her soft as hell hands were any indication.
“What about roadkill?” a guy asked. “That’s some nasty shit, especially in this heat.”
“Can we stab it and watch it explode?” another douche asked.
“Oh, God,” I heard Avery mutter. Now she definitely looked green.
“Leave the dead things,” Rick said. “We got a truck that picks them up along with the bags. Enough talking. No one goes home until three miles are clean. Fill a bag, tie it up, move on to the next one.”
We spent the next five hours stabbing and bagging everything under the sun. People threw out the weirdest shit. Halfway through, a kid named Max decided to make a game of it. The person with the most whacked-out find won.
Sure, it was only for bragging rights, but among this group that was a pretty big motivator. Everyone called out when they found something interesting. Everyone except Avery. She stumbled along, sweat running down her face as she concentrated on jabbing the sharp end of the stick through all the garbage people threw out their windows.
After a particularly vicious stab, she glanced up and caught my eye. Something made me think she envisioned the metal was stabbing into me instead.
Right before we left for the day, Sasha won the first day’s bragging rights.
The girl found the gnarliest pair of dentures any of us had ever seen.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Avery
“I can’t do it again,” I said. “I can’t go back there.”
Shari sat across from me, and between us sat a half-empty bottle of wine. When I got home after the first day of hell was finally over, I immediately climbed into the hottest shower I could stand. My skin was raw and red, but I still didn’t feel clean.
Who would, after finding no less than a dozen used condoms dried up alongside the three miles we cleaned today? I shuddered, feeling disgusting all over again.
And that was on top of the anxiety over having been watched all day. Every time I glanced up, Seth was looking at me. It didn’t take long for a familiar awareness to make my skin prickle.
I glared at him. Flipped him off. Ignored him. Nothing worked.
By the time the day finally ended, I was exhausted, covered in sweat, and ready to throw my stick with javelinlike precision straight at his head. Thank God he sat at the opposite end of the bus on the way back, or I might have strangled him with my bare hands.
“I still can’t believe hottie guy from the bar was there. What are the odds?”
“Well, I’m not a stats whiz, but I’d say pretty slim.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cool leather of the sofa.
“There’s more.” Shari waited until I lifted my head.
“No, there isn’t. There is nothing else. I just . . . I don’t know if I can do this, Shar. I hurt everywhere, I’m sunburned, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat again in this lifetime.” I shuddered, thinking about all that disgusting garbage. When Sasha found someone’s dentures, I thought I was going to be sick.
“So what do you want to do, babe?”
I set my glass down and dropped my head to my crossed arms. “Beg my father for leniency?”
“Maybe he’ll understand? There’s got to be some other service you can do. Like bathe old men or something fun like that?” Shari waggled her eyebrows.
I burst out laughing. That was why Shari was my best friend. The sad fact was that bathing lecherous old men would actually be a step up from what I had done today.
“Look, you want my opinion? You’re tough as shit, Ave. I think . . . and don’t kill me for saying this, but I think you can do this and show your father you’re not a little girl anymore. You know the fastest way to gain that man’s respect is to step up and take responsibility.”
The biggest problem with Shari being my best friend was that she knew how much I wanted my father to treat me like an equal and not just his daughter. I was top of my class, belonged to one of the best sororities on campus, volunteered, had done what my parents expected my entire life, and it still wasn’t enough.
This thing with Grant only proved my father’s point that I wasn’t responsible. I’d seen the disappointment in his eyes when he came to bail me out of jail.
&nb
sp; Shari was right. If I ran to him and begged him to help me, it would only reinforce how he saw me. Incapable and in need of his guidance. A little girl.
“I hate it when you’re right.” I groaned and refilled my glass. “So tell me, o wise one, how the hell am I supposed to work around Seth after everything that happened?”
“Well, I think you should just ignore him. You don’t really know anything about him, and he’s there for a reason, right?” She reached out and took my hand, her face screwed into a serious expression. “Just be careful, Ave, okay? Repressed rich girl, broody hot bad boy, it’s like a fucking made-for-TV movie.”
I laughed again. It was pretty cliché.
Good thing Seth did nothing for me.
Not. A. Thing.
My subconscious snorted.
“Now, what are we ordering in for dinner? All this talking has made me hungry.”
After everything I saw today, I may never eat again. “You pick.”
Shari picked Chinese, but all I could stomach was a veggie egg roll.
Taking Shari’s advice was easier than I expected. Mainly because Seth didn’t try to talk to me again. I caught him looking at me a few times while we worked our way along whatever stretch of highway was on the schedule for the day, but otherwise, it was as if we were strangers.
Which, I guess technically, we were.
I waited for a repeat of Monday, but it was almost as if he’d forgotten I was even there. I just tried to do my job and avoid any kind of conversation with anyone. I didn’t want to get to know any of them. After this exercise in humility was over, I would be back at college. These people would all be right back here, since it was a statistical fact that most criminals were repeat offenders.
Conveniently, I left myself out of the equation.
On Friday, we were on the last quarter of a mile when Sasha found her tenth lone sneaker. Every time she found one, she made up a story about why it was there. At first I drowned out her ramblings. Then the stories got more and more outrageous.