Keeping Jahleel: Jahleel #1.5 (Loving All Wrong)

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Keeping Jahleel: Jahleel #1.5 (Loving All Wrong) Page 11

by S. Ann Cole


  I couldn’t ask him to deal with this sordid, unsavory ignominy.

  Settling on option two, I leaned back in the sofa, crossed my legs, and dragged my gaze to my ex.

  “Why did you do it, Tex? Why did you drug me even after calling a truce?”

  Tex’s eyes on me were wary as he lowered himself to sit on the coffee table in front me. No doubt taken aback by my sudden calmness.

  Maybe he’d expected me to be enraged, going bat-out-of-hell crazy on him—which I should be doing, of course, but I was jaunting a different route. Because me being irate, weak, tearful, and pitiful was mostly what he’d been aiming for when he did this.

  And not just him, but everyone, as soon as they got wind of this, would be expecting me to spiral into an abyss.

  But why bother? All of this was my fault. I’d known Tex couldn’t be trusted. Thomas tried to warn me and I’d disregarded his caution. All this was on me, so I would stick the blame on no one. Not alcohol or drugs. But me. I deserved what I got. Even Ferbie would’ve known better.

  “To get you back,” Tex answered, his voice soft, eyes softer. “And that has a double meaning,” he added. “To get you back for breaking me to pieces three years ago when I loved you. And to get you back because I still love you. I never stopped.”

  For a long moment, I just stared at him.

  Tex and I did share something special once, but for me, it wasn’t love. It was purely on a sexual level. Just like it was with Chad. I’ve only ever loved one man, and that man was Jahleel Kingston. This was no secret.

  Even so, I never would’ve expected Tex would go to this length to get me back.

  Rock stars are supposed to be rock stars: Fuck hard, break hearts, and move on. Not hold a three year grudge and a hope candle next to love. We weren’t Johnny Cash and fucking June. This bloke was ridiculous.

  He was the most famous rock star in the goddamn world right now, was stinking rich, hot as sin in hell, wanted by both male and female alike, and this is what he was doing. Drugging and blackmailing people.

  I shook my head. Unbelievable. “And in your twisted opinion, this was the best way of getting me back, yeah? Is all that ink starting to percolate into brain? “

  “What else was I supposed to do?!” he shouted, throwing his hands up. “Since you left me, I never had the good luck of running into you again. Not once. Even though we run in the same fucking circles. Not once. And I hoped for this more than anything else. To see you again. To convince you to take me back.”

  He raked a hand through and down his long tresses. “We were passing through Vegas for the night, and I heard you’d be making an appearance at Club ZIP with your dancer boy. We decided to crash it. I just wanted to see you face to face again. To touch you. Even if just to insincerely congratulate you on your engagement. And when I found out he wasn’t there, I realized the opportunity and I took it.”

  “Drugging me and making a sex tape is what you call an opportunity?”

  Tex winced. “I’m sorry, Raven. A fight’s a fight. Sometimes clean, most times dirty. It was all to get him out of the picture. You know I’m never gonna publish that, don’t you? You know I’ll never do anything to hurt you, right, Raven?”

  Was he suffering from brain damage or something? “You just did, you insolent fucktwit!’ I screamed at him. “You hurt me by chasing away the man I love!”

  “He doesn’t love you, Saskia.” He lowered to a kneel in front of me. “I love you. He both physically and verbally abused you just now. He called you filth and pushed you down on the floor twice. What part of that spells love?”

  “He was angry,” I justified. “The guy just watched me get my brains fucked out on camera for crying out loud.”

  “Pissed or no, if he loved and cared for you, he would’ve been mindful of you, no matter what.” He placed his open palms on my knees, fingers splayed out. “When you broke up with me that night on the tour bus, I was piss-angry. I couldn’t see reason. I couldn’t see anything but darkness. But even in my rage, I could always see you. Because you were the light in my dark world. Every move you made, I saw you. And even when you were out of sight, I could feel you. That’s how much I loved—love you. Did I take my anger out on you? No. I took it out on the bus tires and everyone around me. But never you.”

  What Tex was saying was true. And made sense. But I didn’t want him to make sense. I didn’t want him to try convincing me that Jahleel was an abuser, because he wasn’t.

  “Back then, and now, are two different scenarios,” I defended. Why was I even explaining anything to this man who’d just whipped out his dick and pissed on all the hard work I’d put into making Jahleel mine? “I harmlessly broke up with you. I cheated on him, and he had to watch it. Put yourself in his shoes, and tell me what you’d do.”

  Tex shook his head without even thinking about it. “Still the same, Raven. I’d never hurt you. That guy is dangerous, more than I think you even know. He tried to kill me, for fuck’s sake!”

  True. I’d never seen Jahleel like that before. He was a completely different person, and the black expression he had in his eyes was so frightening, it reminded me a lot of Chad.

  No idea he was so tactical in fighting. He basically tricked Tex into kicking him off his feet. Then he tried to strangle the life out of him.

  “You were afraid of him,” I stated. “I’ve never seen you back away from anyone before. You’re known for pushing fights. Why’d you dance around him like that?”

  Tex let out a bitter chuckle. “I know a trained fighter when I see one, Saskia. Fools rush in, and I’m no fool. Neither am I suicidal. I would never enter a fight that’ll have a predictable end result. I’d either end up with broken bones, or dead. Sam’s a trained fighter, you forgot? I know how to read all the signs and body language by now.”

  “Oh.” And here I was, his fiancée, and I knew none of that.

  We remained silent, Tex watching me with expectant eyes, until he prodded, “So?”

  “So, what?”

  “Are we getting back together?”

  “Tex”—I laughed without humor—”you can’t possibly be serious.”

  “I am. I want you back. Need you back. I’ll do anything for you. Give you anything you want,” he said in earnest, squeezing my knees. “Last night was fucking incredible. I haven’t felt like that since you left me. Never. Last night reminds me of how much fun we used to—”

  “Last night I was drugged!” I yelled in his face, knocking his hands off my knees. “I had no idea what the hell I was doing! It wasn’t me.”

  His eyes lowered, his head hung. “I was bluffing about the video being uploaded on a website. That right there is the only copy. You can destroy it. I’ll never do anything to hurt you. No one else knows about that video. Like I said, it wasn’t for you. We made it to hurt him.”

  Closing my eyes, I massaged my temples to calm the pounding headache. “I can’t…I don’t…what about this girl you were telling me about? Was she fictitious? All a part of your plan to get me to trust you?”

  “The girl is you.” He raised his head and his blue eyes burned into mine. “I’ve never loved anyone but you, Raven. And I don’t want to. You’re everything I want. Please, give us another chance.”

  The room door beeped open just then, and I held a lungful of hopeful breath, praying it was Jahleel coming back. No one else had a key. It had to be him.

  My heart pounded fast and hard. He was coming back. He was coming back for me.

  When I heard Amanda’s hard, stern voice call, “Kia?” I released a long rush of air and flopped back limply in the sofa, as if punctured with a needle.

  Of course Jahleel wasn’t coming back. Why would he?

  Seconds later, Amanda rounded into the living room, letting out a quiet “God blind me” when she spotted Tex kneeling before me.

  “Oh no, Kia. What dumb shite did you do now?”

  Without giving me a chance to respond, she glowered at Tex, pointing at him, th
en to the door. “You. Out. Now.”

  Tex snorted. “I’m tired of telling you, Manda: I’m not afraid of your big mouth.”

  “No?” Amanda shot back. “Well, I got two big burly men out there with really big fists itching to beat the tattoos off your skin, you sorry sod.”

  Looking tired and defeated, Tex sighed, then gazed up at me through compunctious blue eyes. “I do love you, Raven. At least think about it, okay? I’ll call you later. Pick up.”

  When he leaned up halfway to give me a quick peck on the lips, I didn’t bother fighting him off. Because there was no point. Standing up, he grabbed his tee off the back of the couch, retrieved his boots and tugged them on.

  As he moved past Amanda and headed for the door, I turned and peered over the edge of the couch, asking him, “Are your people in this hotel? How are you getting back to…wherever?”

  He gave me a small, sad smile. “See? You do care about me.”

  “I do.” I smiled, mainly because I felt awful for breaking his heart in the first place, forcing him to become this person. I couldn’t hate him. But I could hate myself. “Don’t worry about my men; they won’t touch you without my permission.”

  Shaking his head, Tex laughed at that, then left the room.

  When I turned back around, Amanda was staring at me, mouth hanging open. “What the fuck was that? Are you getting back with him? What about JK? What in the bloody hell happened? I don’t understand!”

  Getting up from the sofa, I plodded past her to the bedroom, tossed my suitcase on the bed, and began packing up my belongings. Jahleel and I had planned on spending two days here before splitting again, me back to Paris, him home. But all that was shot to shit, and I hated Vegas to begin with, so back to Paris it was for me.

  “I shagged Tex last night.”

  “What?!”

  Expected reaction.

  Avoiding her dark eyes at all costs, I busied myself packing the suitcase. “He drugged me. We shagged. A lot. On camera. And JK was forced to watch it.”

  Amanda actually laughed a little this time. “Sounds like Hangover Part 4 in the making. And a sex tape? Really? Isn’t that a tad clichéd with you bored, fucked-up celebrities? Someone needs to come up with something more original for celebrity defamation, don’t you think?”

  “This is serious, Manda,” I said, turning to look her in the eyes for the first time.

  Her joking had cut the edge off a bit, because Amanda beating me down with bruising words, reminding me how much of a dolt I was, wasn’t what I needed at the moment.

  “You’re telling me,” she agreed as she sat down on the bed.

  “So, how are you so easy on me about this?”

  “Because,” she dragged out, “this is the first time I’ve seen you so calm and controlled while everything around you is falling apart. You just lost the man you love. The Kia I know would be curled up in a C right now, bawling her eyes out, refusing to live. But here you are. Not a tear. This relaxes me, because I won’t have to worry about you trying to end your life again.”

  Her voice broke as she said the latter, and I winced.

  Suicide was definitely out of the question. Getting back with Tex was, too.

  “Well, it happened and there’s nothing I can do about it,” I said with a shrug. “What the hell am I going do, right?”

  “Right,” Amanda replied, though I detected hesitance in her voice.

  Silence for a long while, then, “He’s really hurt, you know, Kia.”

  “How would you know?”

  “How do you think I got your key?” she asked. “He came banging on my door. Yelling in my face and accusing me of whatever. And I had no idea what he was talking about because he wouldn’t answer when I asked. Maybe he was too ashamed. Then he turned and started blaming Thomas for not protecting you, threatening to fire him. It’s Nick and Zane who calmed him down. Zane was heading out so they just left together.” She sighed, then, “Did you know he co-owns the company you hired your men from?”

  “I figured, but wasn’t really sure,” I answered, folding a pair of jeans and stuffing it in. “They seem to have a certain respect for him that doesn’t come from him just being my fiancé. Plus, Chad told me he co-owns it. So it makes sense JK’s who he owns it with. Seems he co-owns a lot more businesses than the chain of strip clubs with Chad.”

  “You never asked?”

  “No. I figured he’d tell me whenever he was ready.”

  Amanda flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and another long stretch of silence progressed.

  “What now, Kia?” she soon asked in a quiet voice. “This is going to be a bloody dog mess. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but JK is loved. His fan base is growing by the minute. And this JK’s Babe thing is getting huge. If people find out the engagement between you two is off because you cheated…” She let out a long, shaky breath. “Prepare for a crap ton of media bashing and hate mail, yeah?”

  I knew all of that. Which was the reason I was determined to be strong through this. The video was in my possession, and would be destroyed. If Tex had been veracious in that no one else knew about it, then there was nothing to worry about on that aspect.

  However, there was no telling what people saw in the club last night. Was I worried, hell yes I was worried. And afraid.

  Not of my career failing. Not of the inevitable media bashing. Not of nothing.

  But of someone. Someone who’s name both Amanda and I have been dancing around because we were too afraid to utter it.

  Lion T’mar.

  Chapter Ten

  JK…

  Marsha swung the door open a whole minute after Jahleel rang the doorbell.

  Her hands promptly went to her curvy hips, her cute little mouth opening to start some unnecessary dramatic shit.

  But Jahleel spoke up before she could. “Look, Marsh, not in the mood for your shit, ‘kay? Just here to see my daughter.”

  She watched him for a beat, then took a breath and stepped aside for him to get in. “She’s sleeping, though.”

  “S’okay,” he mumbled lifelessly. “Just wanna see her…” To make sure she’s real and still here in my life, he omitted.

  As he headed up the stairs toward Claire’s room, Marsha asked, “Are you okay, JK?”

  “Far from it,” he answered in truth, hauling himself up the steps. He felt as though he’d been climbing them forever, would never get to the top.

  A pause, then, “Can I get you something, babe? Tea? I’ve got your fave. Lady Grey.”

  “Nah, I’m good, Marsh.”

  When he got to the top of the stairs, he turned to look down at her. She stood at the bottom, watching him warily, twisting her fingers together. Clearly, his quiet, downtrodden demeanor was baffling her.

  Ever since he’d found out about Claire, he’d been antagonistic and acerbic toward her, blaming her for fucking up how he’d planned on starting his family.

  With her.

  What Marsha did was wrong in every way, but he couldn’t continue hating her for loving him.

  “Come here,” he beckoned in a soft, forgiving voice.

  She didn’t hesitate in climbing the stairs two at a time to get to him. Stopping one step below, she stared up at him, completely passive.

  Leaning down, Jahleel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve never taken the time out to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Claire,” he said. “Might not have been the ideal way for getting my first kid, but…I love her. And I’m glad she’s here. Thank you for her. A gift that’ll always be mine.”

  Marsha gave off a disappointed sigh and nodded. He wasn’t sure what else she was expecting, but that’s all he had, all he could give.

  Turning away, he took the left and continued on to Claire’s room.

  Claire was stretched out in her bed crucifixion style. Arms and legs spread wide, mouth hanging open. She was a wild sleeper. Couple of times he crashed with her in bed and wok
e up with minor bruises from the kicks and punches she threw in her sleep. This trait was from her mother.

  Claire might resemble him to a fault, but everything else, personality and behavioral tendencies, was from her mother. Marsha was the same when she slept: wild and warring. God knew what the hell they dreamed of to be throwing punches like that in their sleep.

  That made him emit a low chuckle—for the first time since he’d hopped on a plane and got the fuck out of Vegas. To get away from her.

  Far, far away.

  Funny, earlier this morning when he was boarding the flight to Vegas, he’d felt as if he would die if he didn’t see her soon enough. He’d been needing her to breathe. Next thing he knew, he was running away from her to breathe, because just looking at her was sucking the fucking life out of him. Suffocating.

  If anyone had told him that Saskia, of all persons, would do this to him, he would’ve probably cut their fucking tongue out. Saskia? Fuck, no. Not Saskia. She’d never do that.

  If there was any fucking up to be done, it would be from him. He was a natural fuck-up. Even when he didn’t know he was fucking up. It was second nature for him.

  Well, didn’t he just sustain a hard slap of reality?

  Fighting to ignore the punitive pain lacerating his whole fucking heart, he kicked off his boots and climbed into bed with Claire. This little girl slept so soundly, one could pull this house apart and rebuild and she would never wake. She woke only when she wanted to.

  Leaving the airport, Jahleel had shot straight to Marsha’s because he’d had a sudden urge to see the only girl he truly owned. The girl who would always love him because he was hers. The girl who’d never hurt him because he was hers. The girl who’d always defend him because he was hers. The girl who would always, always, through nature, through blood, through God, be his.

  Claire Kingston.

  Fuck every other lying, pretending creature called woman. Fuck love. Fuck marriage. Fuck all the lies life tells.

 

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