Blowback

by Stephanie Summers

  “I’m sorry, Evie. It’s just amazing to me that you make your living from something I taught you. And that other stuff? Yeah, it’s a concern, but I would kill anyone who even thinks about going after you, and that includes Niall.”

  “That’s the issue,” I exclaimed. “I don’t want you to kill people, especially not for me.”

  “I’m more than that—you know that.”

  “I’m having a hard time seeing it right now.”

  “I’ve never gone out and murdered someone just for the hell of it. You make it sound like I’m a fucking serial killer. I kill because I have to. I fight for my goddamn life every time I’m forced to face someone. Most of them don’t end in death. And, yeah, I could’ve gotten out of fighting Preston tonight, but I chose not to because I wanted him to pay for what he did to you.”

  “I don’t need you fighting my battles. I haven’t even seen that son of a bitch since I left him. I’ve moved on and left his abuse behind me.”

  “Yeah? Because he didn’t. Leave it behind, I mean. He’s just as bad, if not worse, than he was to you.”

  “I thought he crossed Niall and that’s why he was there. What’s any of this have to do with the things he did to me?”

  “I picked him up for Niall, but you remember me telling you that someone had knocked the shit out of Jerney?”

  “Yes, but you said she lied about it.”

  “She lied about part of it, but not about what was done to her. He paid her two grand to do the same thing to her that he tried to do to you. He wanted to brutalize someone while he fucked them. Did he do that to you during sex? Those scars on your body? Was that him, too?”

  “It’s none of your business,” I said.

  My lip trembled at the horrible memory of the whole ordeal. He’d held me down and punched me in the face as he shoved himself into me, and when I fought him, he grabbed one of his fucking knives and slashed into me in four different places. Every one of his cuts left a scar, but no one else had ever noticed them until Jet.

  Jerney certainly wasn’t my favorite person, but it made me sick to think she endured that and so much more. I remembered seeing the way she tried to cover the marks on her face with a thick layer of makeup. I could remember how swollen her lip was, despite never seeing her before in my life to even know what her lips should’ve looked like. It was that obvious. I wanted to cry over the fact that life had been so cruel to a woman and that she felt like she had to cater to perverts to make her living. And I had judged her for it.

  “That’s what I thought… He’s a sick fuck, Evie. He deserved to die, but because I hesitated, he gets to walk away and do that to other women. Probably unsuspecting ones who will never see it coming. I should’ve killed him… I think that’s what you don’t understand. You don’t get it that the people I fight, and the few who didn’t survive, were flat-out scum. They were murderers, rapists, thieves… the worst of the worst. They’d gotten away with crimes that would make your head spin, but because they crossed Niall—the prick that he is—they ended up getting some of what they deserved.”

  “You’re a vigilante. Is that how you see yourself?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “And what if they weren’t evil? What if someone made a mistake and some innocent man stood across from you and ended up hurt really bad or even dead?”

  “Occasionally, one will slip through who doesn’t deserve to be there. Those are the fights I lose, with the exception of the fight where I got stabbed. That’s the only one I lost that I didn’t throw… I’m not what you think I am, Evie. I’d never hurt an innocent person. I don’t just show up and do as I’m told, although Niall would never know the difference. I look into things myself. I check out alibis when they’re given. When I find out someone shouldn’t be there, I take it easy on them and give them signals on what to do, where to hit me, where to kick me so it’s believable when I go down. No one but you and the poor fuckers in the situation know that.”

  “Couldn’t you just refuse to fight them?”

  “No,” he said, his tone certain. “That’s never an option without Niall bringing it up first. If he gives me an out, I can take it, but otherwise, I’m stuck. I have to do what he says or he’ll hurt the ones who actually mean something to me.”

  “Georgia?”

  “And you,” he said. Closing the distance between us once again, his hands settled on my hips, pulling me to him. “I can’t fucking lose you this time. I won’t. I’ll do anything to make this work, to keep you safe.”

  “I need some time to think, and even if I can come to terms with all this, I’m not sure this is the kind of life I want to live. I can’t live knowing I might be in danger for simply being me, and I know you believe you can protect me, but you can’t be with me twenty-four hours a day.”

  “I get it.”

  “Once you leave, it’ll have to be radio silence. You have to give me that. I know it’ll be hard, but that’s what I need.”

  “And what if Georgia and I get away from him? Am I allowed to contact you then?”

  “No. You have to let me decide what’s best for me. I love you so much, Jet, but I’m scared to death to be a part of your world.”

  Closing his eyes, he nodded. “Don’t make me leave tonight,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Please.”

  “You have to go,” I said and pushed him away.

  “Why can’t I just leave in the morning?” he asked. His voice was shaky, almost like he might lose it and start crying. I’d never seen him get emotional like that, even when he’d confided in me the dark times in his life, but he had to be capable of it. Every human being was.

  “Because,” I said, raising my voice. “If I let you stay tonight, I won’t be able to let you go tomorrow. You’ll make love to me and force me to forget everything I’ve said, everything I feel, and it’ll be over. I’ll lose myself and my free will in the process.”

  “Then I won’t make love to you, baby,” he said, marching over to me and lifting me in his arms. He held me there pressed to him, his chest rising and falling heavily against mine.

  He fused his mouth to mine, capturing my full attention. My whole body tensed under the sweet pressure of his lips, only relaxing once he laid me on the bed. Every nerve in my body fired, calling for him to become one with me.

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to make love to me,” I said breathlessly against his lips.

  “I’m not.”

  He rose to his feet, pulling my boots and socks off before yanking at my belt and jeans and tossing them to the floor. His fingers dug into my hips as he forced me to turn over to my stomach. His touch was light as a feather under my shirt, his hand traveling the length of my spine, pushing the material up as he went. When it slipped over my head, I pulled it the rest of the way off my arms.

  Settling his weight on me, pressing me into the mattress, he spoke firmly into my ear, his breath warm against my flesh. “I’m not going to make love to you, Evie… I’m going to fuck you.”

  “There’s a condom in my purse,” I said. What I wanted was to feel him inside me, skin to skin, but I couldn’t risk bringing a child into the fucked-up situation we’d found ourselves in. I wasn’t even sure it was a life I could live; there was no way I was exposing a child to it.

  He moved off me, and everything faded away in anticipation of his touch. My body prepared to take him without any coaxing, wetness pooling between my thighs. The thought of him alone was enough to damn near finish me off.

  My legs parted by his knee as he pulled my ass up to him. Supporting my weight on my forearms, I arched my back and pushed myself against him.

  With one quick thrust, he entered me, pushing as deep as he could. Grasping my hips, he held me there, his breath coming in and out in long draws, leaving me desperate for him to move his hips even just a little.

  As if he’d read my mind, he pulled almost all the way out of me before sinking into me again.

  The sound of m
y breath hissing through my teeth seemed to spur him into action. He pounded into me so fast and so hard I could barely hold on. I clutched the sheet to brace myself as sweet release began to build. That was the first of several orgasms had that night. We went at it in a primal, animalistic way until the sunlight finally peeked out from behind the curtains. It was strictly sex, but that didn’t keep the love I felt for him from multiplying that much more.

  He finished with a loud groan and kissed me passionately on the lips. There had been plenty of kisses, bites, and licks, but not one so intimate as that kiss. It felt like a goodbye kiss. When he parted from my lips, the hole he’d left in my soul so many years before doubled in size, effectively ripping me to pieces.

  Rolling to my side, I wished for him to just leave. If I looked at him anymore, I feared I wouldn’t be able to tell him to go, and I absolutely had to. The only hope I had was that he’d be able to get away from his father and away from the fighting so we could maybe have a life together one day.

  He slipped into his clothes and left without a word. Not even looking back at me lying there alone. It was just what I wanted him to do, but his absence nearly caused me to stop breathing. Choking back tears, I got up and ran to the bathroom as soon as the door closed behind him. I turned the knobs in the shower to make the water as hot as I could possibly stand it before getting in. The water streamed over my body, washing the scent of Irish Spring and masculine sweat off me.

  The tears flowed from my eyes until I started to believe I no longer had eyeballs from all the crying. I spent so much time in the shower that I shivered when the heat went away. Turning off the water, I stepped out and slipped into the long, white robe I’d been sleeping in. Climbing into bed, I couldn’t help but think of the first time we’d been intimate, not long after I’d seen him fight Preston the first time.

  *

  “You haven’t talked to him at all?” Sophie asked.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know what to say to him. He really scared me.”

  “Okay, but don’t you think it’s kind of hot that he took up for you like that? I mean, it sounds to me like Preston was being really rude to you. I think what Jet did was sweet. I’d love it if a boy took up for me like that.”

  “You didn’t see him, Soph. I thought he was going to kill Preston. He went all kinds of crazy on him. I’ve never seen someone be so brutal.”

  The first bell for the buses rang, interrupting our conversation.

  “Shit,” Sophie said under breath. “I’m sorry, babe. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  I nodded as she hurried off down the hallway to her bus. My bus was one of the later ones, and I had a good ten minutes before it’d be there.

  Jet hadn’t spoken to me at all and hadn’t come to my house like he’d been doing before the fighting incident. He seemed to avoid me since the altercation he’d had with Preston. I knew he was still going to school. I’d seen him in the hallway at a distance a couple different times, but he didn’t show up to the class we had together all week. It hurt not seeing him there, knowing he had to be intentionally skipping so he wouldn’t have to deal with me.

  Pulling up on the lever, I opened my locker door. One red rose, settled on top of a note, lay on the top shelf. A smile grew on my lips, knowing it had to be from Jet. He sometimes used my locker and was the only person who knew the combination, so it had to be his doing.

  I took a deep breath, my hand trembling as I unfolded the note and began to read.

  I’m sorry if I scared you. I don’t want to lose you over this. Can I come over tonight so we can talk? -Jet

  Bringing the rose to my nose, I inhaled its sweet scent. I grabbed my backpack and went outside. Jet stood off to the side talking to a guy he was somewhat friendly with. His eyes focused intently on me.

  I smiled and nodded. He blinked and looked back toward the kid he was talking to. Time moved in slow motion between then and when I made it home. We had a lot to talk about. Why did he lose his shit so easily? How could he rage out like that? Would he ever do something like that to me?

  I rushed through the front door, and kicked off my shoes. Starting up the stairs, I met my mother halfway. Thankfully, I had put the rose in my backpack, so at least I didn’t have to explain where it came from.

  “We’re going up to Granny and Pop’s for the night. Your uncle is in for a short visit. Go get a bag packed,” she said, passing by me.

  Noooooo, I screamed inside my head. Jet was coming, and we had some things to clear up. Besides that, my uncle was an ass who always picked on me, and not in a friendly sort of way. He always had a viciousness to his jabs that no one but me ever seemed to notice. He was the last person I wanted to ditch Jet for.

  “Um, mom?”

  “Yeah,” she asked turning to look at me.

  “Can I sit this one out? I’m not feeling well.”

  “Honey, are you okay?” she asked, bridging the gap between us and placing her hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel fevered.”

  “I don’t know. I just feel crappy, like maybe I’m getting a cold or something.”

  “This cold doesn’t have a name, does it?”

  “Huh?” I asked, scrunching up my face in an effort to act like I didn’t know what she meant.

  “Jet.”

  “Mom,” I whined. “I’m not even talking to him right now. I don’t know if we’re still dating or not.” I hated lying to my mother, but if I told her the truth, there’s no way she’d let me out of the family visit.

  “Well… I guess you can stay home, but your uncle and your grandparents are going to miss seeing you… Go get into bed and rest a little, okay? Want me to fix you something to eat before we leave?”

  “No, I’m not hungry right now. I’ll have some soup later.”

  “Okay. Love you, honey, and make sure you call if you start to feel worse and need us to come home. Otherwise, we’ll be back tomorrow evening or on Saturday. You can stay home from school in the morning, alright? Sleep in. Feel better.”

  “Okay. Thanks, mom. Love you,” I said, and hurried up the stairs to my room. Now I just had to hope that they’d leave before Jet showed up.

  I stared out the window, watching for them to leave and hoping I could catch him before he knocked on the door. The clock ticked closer and closer to the time he usually came over. At a little before 4:30, my mother and step-father finally left, but Jet was nowhere to be found.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time he said he’d come over and then couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t see me nod. Maybe he expected something more definitive to let him know it was okay and that I wanted to talk.

  A few minutes later, I headed downstairs to get a drink. A tapping from the front door made my heart skip a beat.

  “Come in,” I called out.

  The door opened, and Jet entered the room, a stoic look on his face.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hey,” he said, walking toward me with determination on his face. “I really fucking missed you,” he said just before his lips crashed into mine.

  His hands grasped the sides of my face as I placed my hands on his hips.

  I pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes.

  “Why have you been avoiding me?”

  “Wanted to give you some space. You were afraid of me,” he said, turning his back to me.

  “You didn’t have to ignore me, though.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked and turned quickly to face me. “You might as well have told me to fuck off afterward.”

  “I didn’t,” I whispered.

  “No, you didn’t say that, but the way you acted did. You could barely stand to look at me.”

  “I’m sorry, Jet. I didn’t know what to say or do. Preston was an asshole, for sure, but did you have to hurt him so badly?”

  “Yes,” he said. He reached out to cradle my face. “He was going to hurt you, Evie. Don’t you see that?”

 
“Just because he was saying those things doesn’t mean he was going to act on them.”

  “He grabbed you. It was written all over his face what he planned to do. And all I could see was the things he was going to do to you against your will,” he said, peering deeply into my eyes. “All I could see were the things that have been done to me, and I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want someone to steal your innocence away from you like that.”

  “Jet,” I said with barely a breath. The gravity of what he was implying slammed into me, knocking the breath from my body. I knew he’d been physically and emotionally abused, but sexual abuse hadn’t crossed my mind. “Your father?”

  “No,” he said and dropped his hands away from my face, turning his back to me again. “Not him.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “No. I don’t want pity,” he said and looked at me over his shoulder before making his way to the stairs and going up them.

  My mouth hung slightly open. Where the hell was he going? And why was he walking away from me after dropping such a bomb on me?

  I followed him up the stairs and to my room.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, and asked, “When are your parents coming back?”

  “Not until tomorrow or Saturday.”

  “You asked me if I’d ever been with anyone else, and I said yes… but it wasn’t by my choice.”

  I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t come off as showing him pity, so I said nothing and sat on my knees on the floor in front of him.

  “I was barely fifteen and my old man had dragged in a woman to live with us. She was nasty and a drug addict. I woke up one night with her on top of me. I felt so fucking betrayed by my body. She managed to get me hard while I was asleep. I can still remember how I thought I was having an extremely realistic sex dream, but when I woke up, it was a real life nightmare.”

  “Was that the only time it happened?”

  “It happened a couple other times before he got tired of her and kicked her out a few weeks later.”

  “Did he ever know?” I asked, trying to keep myself from being nauseated.

  “Not as far as I know. I never told him, never told anyone until now.”