by Jo Raven
Feelings I shouldn’t have.
But still, I guess I wanted to put off telling him a little longer. Pretend nothing has changed. But avoiding him, not taking his calls, can’t last forever.
Now it’s time to face the music.
Mom is out of town—she went back to our little hometown of Destiny to get some things we left there in storage, and after that, in a few days, we’ll be moving out. I would hate it if he’d waited so long to tell me had he been the one moving away, and here I am, trying to protect myself from the inevitable. Thinking of myself only.
Suck it up, Gigi. Come on.
But of course the moment I decide to get on with it, Jarett is nowhere to be found. He’s not in the bus home after school, and he’s not in the yard of the Lowes’ house. The house itself is dark, no lights in the windows despite the grayness of the overcast afternoon, no movement visible inside.
I stand at the fence, staring at the house, unease stirring in my stomach.
On a whim, I whip out my phone and call Jarett again.
He doesn’t reply.
Chewing on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, I open the gate and walk up to the house. I climb the porch steps and ring the bell.
It’s quiet inside. I ring again, shifting nervously from foot to foot, shivering in my light coat. I’m not even all that cold. The ice is all in my bones as I wait for Jarett to get the door.
But when the door finally opens, it’s not him looking back at me.
I open my mouth to say something—Hi? Who are you?—when I realize I know this guy.
Sebastian, the Lowes’ annoying son, leans against the doorframe and lifts a dark brow at me. “May I help you?”
I take an instinctive step back. Not that I know Sebastian personally, but rumors are he’s a cruel, obnoxious man.
“I’m looking for Jarett,” I manage through a throat gone dry.
“Jarett is... not here.”
I frown. “Where is he then?”
“Oh you know. Out and about.” He shrugs, his gaze flickering. “Like he does.”
That’s... all wrong. That’s not like Jarett at all.
My phone is still in my hand. I press redial, and from inside the house I hear the answering ring.
I look up.
Sebastian’s lip curls. “Ah hell,” he mutters and straightens, turning and walking back inside the house. “For you, man!”
Frowning, not sure what’s going on, I step inside, and there he is.
Jarett. Phone in hand. His frown matching mine.
He was here all along.
***
The afternoon light outlines his profile in silver. He’s propped his hip on one of the porch pillars and folded his muscular arms over his chest, gazing out at the garden and the street, his jaw tight.
“You’re leaving,” he mutters, his voice rough and low.
“Just moving to another neighborhood. I just wanted—”
“You’re fucking leaving, in a few days, and you’re only telling me now.”
I tug on my ponytail, bringing the end to my mouth and chewing at the soft tuft. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry.” He snorts, but doesn’t sound amused.
What he sounds like is very, very angry, and it’s making my heart pound.
“I only found out a few days ago myself.”
“But you waited. And didn’t take my calls. Why?”
I shrug. His anger is making me defensive. “I wasn’t ready to discuss it, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, that’s fucking okay.”
“What do you want from me, Jarett?” I stalk to the end of the porch, to the steps. “Want me to go right now? I came to tell you. And it’s not the end of the world.”
He casts me a strange look, and I think I see pain in his pretty eyes, a shock rippling through their depths.
Then he looks away and something shifts in his posture. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I don’t want to be right. I don’t like the way his expression has closed off, his eyes gone flat and empty. “Rett...”
“It doesn’t fucking matter if you leave,” he goes on, interrupting me, his voice hard. “In fact, you should go now, get ready. Not much time left.”
I can’t speak for a long moment, my heart in my throat. Tears prick the back of my eyes. “Rett, don’t do this.”
“Do what?” He blinks, long lashes hiding his eyes. “You’re the one who’s leaving.”
“But I...” I stop, horrified when my voice breaks. What can I say? He’s right. It’s not my fault, but it’s my fault for not telling him immediately, for not answering my phone. I still don’t understand why he’s so furious with me, though. “I wish I wasn’t.”
“It makes no difference.” His broad shoulders roll in a slight shrug. “Everyone leaves sooner or later. You might as well go now, before I start giving a damn.”
I flinch, startled at how much his words hurt. “You don’t mean that. We’re friends, we—”
“We’ve never been friends.” He spits the word like it tastes bitter on his tongue. “We’ve never... You know what? Just go. And don’t fucking ever call me again. I’m done.”
No.
He can’t mean it.
But this is exactly what I feared, isn’t it? That he’d let me go so easily, that he doesn’t much care if I stick around or not. He only got all pissy because I didn’t tell him earlier.
Screw him.
Screw him seven ways to Sunday, and I hope I’ll never see his face again, and...
And I can’t bear this pain.
Blindly, I turn to go, and clap a hand over my mouth as I stumble down the steps. No way am I going to sob in front of the bastard. No way is he seeing how badly it hurts.
If he’s done with me, then it’s about time I let him go.
Epilogue
Jarett
When I first lay eyes on the girl with the big blue eyes and pouty lips, when she followed me home and talked to me, I never thought we’d click. Never thought she’d become my anchor.
Never realized she’d be the girl who’d break my fucking heart.
But she gutted me, laid me open only to walk away and leave me with a gaping hole in my chest.
I know now it was on me, too. I was fucking lost, I needed her, and I said hurtful things. I told her never to call me again, I told her I didn’t care about her. I even changed my phone number in those first days of fury, around about the time I smashed everything in my room and got myself so drunk I nearly died.
Things went downhill after that, and soon enough we moved away, too, from the neighborhood where I met her, but the thought of never seeing her again stayed in my mind, lodged in deep like a thorn.
It took two years for me to find her once more, and when I did, I held on with all I had... because from the start, she was my bright light, and I let her go.
I won’t be making that mistake again.
Read on and find out what happens next in BAD WOLF:
This is no fairytale...
Once I fell in love with a gorgeous boy next door.
Years later, he’s back—a total hunk, hot as hell, and bad. So bad.
Rude. Cocky. Hard.
And I’m dying for a taste.
Jarett was our neighbors’ adopted son.
Handsome, strong, quiet, he was my protector, and my friend.
Now he’s back, and he’s still gorgeous.
Tall, dark and sexy. All man.
But he’s a bad guy, moving with a dangerous crowd.
So why do I keep winding up in his arms?
On his lap. In his bed.
I know better than this—I’m better than this. I should stop.
Only my heart tells me there’s good inside Jarett.
That I could save him.
Then again, what happens to gullible girls who climb into bed with the big bad wolf?
...Right.
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Have you read CAVEMAN—the story of Gigi’s sister Octavia, and the man who stole her heart? Get it here:
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Excerpt from BAD WOLF
Once upon a time...
Once there was this boy in our neighborhood, living a few houses down the street. I didn’t know him well, but he was handsome like a god, with those high cheekbones and cat-like eyes, and shoulders built to carry the weight of the world.
His name was Jarett, and the Lowes had adopted him the previous year. Rumors abounded that he came from across the country, maybe California or Idaho, and that his parents had been murderers shot by the police. Others said he’d been in juvie for a while, and finding a home for him had been tough, because of his past, and his age.
When I met him, he sure wasn’t a kid anymore. He looked tough. He had tattoos inked on his forearms, and his green eyes were hard like glass behind a fringe of dark hair.
He limped. Scowled. Didn’t talk much. Didn’t hang out with the other kids in the hood. I was seventeen at the time myself, a woman already, and he was a year older. His gaze was that of an old and hardened man, and his body was taut and made for fighting.
I noticed his body, just like I noticed his gaze. He did look at me at school sometimes. I caught his hot gaze on me.
Hey, like I’m saying, I was a woman already. I looked. I wanted.
But it was more than that.
I’m not a shy girl. I get what I want. It wasn’t like boys didn’t swarm around me, making it clear they couldn’t wait to get their hands on me. Back home, in the little town of Destiny, I’d fought them off.
Here it wasn’t any different.
But not Jarett. He minded his own business. Went to school—he was a year behind—and tinkered in his yard, or walled himself up in his attic room. I could see him sometimes sitting at the window, one long leg stretched out, the other folded up. Mysterious.
Sexy.
No matter how hot he was, that wasn’t why I followed him at first, and then talked to him. No, I had other reasons.
I ran to catch up with him whenever I saw him walking down the street, and just talked. Asked him things. Told him things. I was more reckless then than I am now.
Sometimes he replied. Sometimes he shot me bemused looks, like he could see right through my act, right through me, and found something funny there.
We weren’t besties by a long shot. We barely hung out, barely talked enough for that. But we were sort of friends. His presence was always there, a thorn under my skin, inside my chest, burning bright.
Too bright.
His adoptive parents already had a son. Sebastian was his name. Dark hair, blue eyes, tall and lanky and a real douchebag, the sort that pulls the wings off butterflies and brags about it. Sebastian was older by a couple of years, and at the time was supposed to be working in an office downtown as a courier.
I say “supposed” because he was always at home, lounging in the hammock in the back yard, or sitting on the porch steps, messing around on his phone. He was a guy to avoid, especially at night, when he stumbled about drunk, yelling at passers-by.
School wasn’t easy for me there. Losing all my friends wasn’t easy. Living on a street with drunks and bullies was hell.
And here is the real reason I first gravitated toward Jarett. I looked to him for protection.
See, the other boys avoided him, never really picked fights with him—at least not in the open, not where I could see. He was tall, strong, intimidating. He had a look about him that screamed danger. So perversely, walking by him on our street felt safe.
We never talked about that. I never asked for his protection. He never offered it. But he walked with me anyway. And I felt safe, safer than I ever had, especially since that incident back in Destiny, the one I kept trying to forget.
In the time we lived on that street, I didn’t manage to find out about him anything more than random details.
Like the fact he has a middle name nobody knows.
That he likes fries dipped in ranch dressing.
And that he hates loud noises. I know because I saw him jump a foot off the ground once when a car tire burst down the street. I teased him about it. He never said a word.
But things were about to change. Our neighborhood was getting worse by the day. We had moved there from our little home town with my sister’s husband to start a new life. Go to college, pursue our dreams. We rented a house there, because it wasn’t far from his parents’ house, and his mother babysat his little kids when we were all out at school or working.
Then gangs encroached on the neighborhood, robberies became the new standard, and assaults became worse.
So we moved away, to a new house, a new neighborhood. A quieter place.
I never saw Jarett again, or Sebastian.
Until today.
Chapter One
Gigi
“Hurry up,” Sydney hisses, dragging me by the hand through the night club, under the strobing lights. “We’re late.”
“So what? We’re fashionably late.” I tug on her hand, but she’s strong for such a tiny person. “Relax. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
“You’re always about the fun, aren’t you?” She pulls me deeper into the club, like a short, red-haired missile locked on target.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Getting annoyed, I tug my hand harder, freeing it and stumbling back a step on my stilettos. “It’s our night out. Of course I want to have fun. Don’t you?”
“Yes! But if I’m not on time... Seriously, I can’t be late.”
“On time for what? Late for what? God, you’re turning into a grump.” I step farther back, heat seeping into my neck. “Is it because you’ll finally have to choose between all the boys you’ve been hanging with all this time? Poor baby.”
“Whoa. Really?” She stares at me, her cheeks reddening.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s all stressed out.”
Normally I don’t go off on her like that. I’m an easy-going person, light-hearted and fun. Syd likes that I’m fun. So why throw it into my face like an insult?
And now she’s staring into the dancing crowd, and I’m not even sure she hears me. Something’s definitely off.
Sort-of-dating three dudes at the same time can be stressful, I guess, especially if you’re all good buddies.
I honestly don’t understand the dynamics of her little group. Her three friends seem nice, sure, and they’re handsome as hell and friends with each other. I get that choosing one will destroy the group—but hey, you can’t marry all three, now, can you?
She has to make a choice. But surely not tonight?
Or maybe it is tonight? That would explain her odd behavior.
“Look, I gotta go,” she whispers, turns around, and before I can even blink, she vanishes into the crowd.
O.M.G. What in the world just happened?
“Syd! Sydney!” I start after her, pissed and annoyed and kind of scared. She’s never walked out on me like this before, not in a night club where I’ve never been before. Plus, she’s my ride back home.
Looks like I’ll be calling a cab, instead.
But heck, no. I’ll find her, sit her down and have her explain to me what has gotten into her tonight. All this is... no bueno.
She’s my bestie. My bestie can’t abandon me like that without an explanation. The world just doesn’t work that way. We’ve been best friends since I moved to St. Louis almost three years ago. Almost three full years of trust and late-night confessions in the dark, nights when she told me about her dreams and fears, about her three f
riends.
She knows practically everything about me, probably even things I don’t know. I thought I knew her like the back of my hand.
Where is she?
Hurrying through the drunken crowd, the music blaring in my ears, I tug ineffectively on the hem of my short dress as I search for her familiar head of red curls.
Where was she heading anyway? There’s nothing back here but more people and the neon-lit bar with its shelves of bottles and bustling bartenders.
Cursing my stilettos—remembering Sydney warning me not to wear them if I wanted to dance, but they’re so damn pretty I ignored her—I slow down, walking down the length of the bar, anxiously checking the swaying, shaking, jumping bodies on the dance floor.
My stomach is twisted up in a knot. It feels like fear. For her, and for me.
Oh come on, I tell myself. You’re a nineteen-year-old woman. You’ve spent as much time inside night clubs as you have outside them by now.
Probably.
Anyway, math doesn’t matter. I’m fine. If Syd decided to disappear, then I’ll just hop into a cab and go home to my bed.
Or maybe stay and dance a little first.
My little pep talk makes me feel a bit better. Taking a deep breath, I move toward the back of the club. Who needs Sydney to have fun? I can party on my own. Plenty of guys around I can talk to. Never been shy, that’s for sure.
Although, damn, I’d counted on her to get us drinks. Sydney’s twenty, and I’m turning twenty in a few months, so that’s not good, but one of her boys is twenty-one already, which comes in useful.
Syd’s been turning into such a party-pooper lately, anyway. Not that she vanished like this before, or we’d have had words already, but she hasn’t been her chipper self.
Trouble in foursome paradise? Who knows?
Not me, that’s for sure, since she hasn’t breathed another word about her three buddies in a while.
More annoyed than ever, I decide that’s it. I’m done. Let Sydney come find me. What’s up with acting all weird and stuff, huh? It’s our Saturday night out, and I’m in no mood to go back home and stare at the ceiling over my bed.
Turning, I lean against the bar and nod at the bartender. “A rum and coke, please.”
Dressed in my little black dress, my hair swept back, red lipstick and so much mascara on my lashes I can hardly lift them, I look older than I actually am, and I’m counting on it.