Jake Forever (Jaked Book 3)

by Sabrina Stark

  "It's about my car…" I began, only to stop when my phone started vibrating again.

  Damn it.

  "You need to get that?" Jake asked.

  I froze. So he'd felt the vibration? Of course, he had. Our hips were, after all, pressed against each other.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away and reached into my pocket. Praying it was my sister or something, I pulled out the phone and checked the display.

  Just great – another unknown number.

  Rango? Probably.

  But there was no way I wanted to confirm it. So I shoved the phone back into my pocket and told Jake, "Nah, it can wait."

  I'd barely finished the sentence when Jake reached into his own pocket and pulled out his phone. He studied the display for a long moment before swiping his fingers across the screen, as if searching for something else. He paused, and then frowned.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  He shoved the phone back into his pocket and said, "I've gotta go."

  I stared up at him. "What?"

  "An appointment," he said. "It can't wait."

  I gave him a puzzled look. "Did you just find out?"

  "Something like that." He pulled me close and kissed me hard on the lips. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

  I pulled back and tried to make a joke of it. "So, you want me to wait right here?" I made a show of looking around. "In the office?"

  He gave me a distracted smile. "Nah, go upstairs. I'll see you there."

  As much as I hated this, I wasn't blind to the upside. In my pocket, my phone was vibrating yet again. If Jake disappeared for a few hours, I'd have some time to deal with Rango and his stupid phone calls.

  Maybe I'd get lucky, and he'd finally run out of phones.

  I summoned up a smile and told Jake, "Alright. See you later."

  Again, he reached for me, pulling me close yet again. "I mean it," he said. "Don't go anywhere."

  Something about his tone was off, and I didn’t like it. I pulled away and asked, "Is that a request or a command?"

  Abruptly, he asked, "That picture, did you look at it?"

  Startled by the change of topic, I gave a shake of my head. "What picture?"

  "You know which picture."

  Oh. That picture. Heat flooded my face, and I couldn't help but glance away.

  Just before I'd crawled into the bathtub, Jake had texted me that stupid image, the one of me walking along the street in those wet, embarrassingly obscene clothes. Accompanying the image had been three simple words. Remember your promise.

  It was the promise to look that photo, obviously. But I didn't want to look. I wanted to forget. Unfortunately, Jake wasn't helping.

  This whole thing was starting to feel like a punishment. I crossed my arms and said, "You know what I'm starting to feel like?"

  Jake looked down at me, but said nothing.

  Into his silence, I said, "I'm starting to feel like a dog who peed on the carpet."

  His voice was flat. "A dog?"

  "Yeah. And it's like you're dragging me back there, saying, 'Look at it. Bad dog! Bad!'"

  With an effort, I softened my tone. "Look, I know it was a mistake, but you don't have to keep rubbing my nose in it. So can't we just drop it already?" I gave him a pleading look. "Please?"

  "You told me you'd look, so just do it, alright?" He glanced toward the elevator. "Now, I've gotta go."

  I made a sound of frustration. "That's no kind of response."

  "Yeah? Well until you look, it's all you're getting." And with that, he turned away.

  I watched in sullen silence as he crossed the short distance to the elevator, hit the down button, waited, and strode inside after the elevator doors opened. The doors slid shut, and then, he was gone.

  I stared at those doors, wondering what had just happened.

  I was still staring when my phone started buzzing again. With a muttered curse, I pulled it out and looked at the thing. Another unknown number.

  Well, this was just great.

  Chapter 28

  An hour later, I was down in the lobby, waiting for my brothers. With Jake gone on such a sour note, I couldn’t stomach the thought of eating alone. So I'd called for pizza, and for my brothers, hoping for a distraction from my murky thoughts.

  Stubbornly, I'd refused to look at the picture. And, after five more calls from Rango, I'd started refusing to answer my phone. But there was one thing I wasn't refusing – and that was to face reality.

  The way it looked, Rango had more than a dozen phones, which led me to a sad realization. Probably, it would be me – not him – who needed a new phone number.

  Tomorrow, in fact, I'd be hitting the cell phone store, looking to make a switch. But in order to do that, I'd need money. Already, I'd gone through my last paycheck, as meager as it was, in order to pay some outstanding bills.

  It was true, I did have a credit card, but I hated the thought of using it, mostly because I was already pushing the limit.

  The pizza, I could afford. A new cell phone contract? Not so much. I paused – unless, maybe I could roll over the old one? Just change the number or something?

  I was still pondering this when, through the lobby's front windows, I saw my brothers' truck zoom past the building, heading toward the attached parking garage. In that garage, Jake had a few extra spots, including one where my own car would go, assuming I ever bought one.

  That spot was where my brothers parked whenever they visited. Looking to meet them there, I ducked out the side door that led to the garage, only to stop dead in my tracks at the sight of a familiar figure, blocking my path.

  It was the same guy who'd hustled me out of the convention center the previous night. Confused, I glanced around. Where on Earth had he come from?

  And more to the point, why was he standing in my way?

  Surprised, I blurted out, "What are you doing here?" And then, realizing how rude I sounded, I forced a smile and said, "Sorry, you just surprised me. That's all." I tried to remember his name. "Um, Marshall, right?"

  He didn't move, and he didn't smile back. In a low monotone, he said, "That's right."

  My own smile faltered. Mister Personality strikes again. He'd been like this last night, too – all business, zero charm.

  I tried again. "If you're here to see Jake–"

  "I'm not."

  "Oh." I paused as several possibilities ran through my brain. Did he live here? Doubtful. Was he here to see someone else? Unlikely. Was he a random garage-lurker, hanging out for kicks? That was too ludicrous for words.

  That left only one possibility, and it wasn't one I liked. I squinted up at him. "So why are you here?"

  "Working."

  "Right." And it didn't take a genius to figure out his current job-description. Stop Luna from going anywhere.

  Talk about humiliating.

  Looking to test my theory, I sidestepped to go around him. As I moved, he moved. Again, we were standing chest to chest. Or, more accurately, we were standing head to chest, since he was at least a foot taller than I was.

  Waiting for some sort of explanation, I crossed my arms and glared up at him.

  No explanation came. Instead, he reached into the inside front pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cell phone. He started tapping at the screen. Texting, obviously.

  I made a sound of annoyance. "What are you doing?"

  "Reporting in."

  "With Jake? Well, don't bother. Because there's nothing to report. I'm not going anywhere."

  "Uh-huh." He was still tapping. "Except you're heading toward your car."

  "I don't have a car," I snapped.

  Admittedly, it wasn't my finest hour. On some level, I did realize that the guy was just doing his job. But at the moment, I was too irritated to care.

  In front of me, Marshall continued tapping at his phone, ignoring what I'd just said.

  My temper rose with every tap-tap of his beefy finger. "You should probably include a picture," I
said. "Jake just loves those. Want me to back up so you can get a good shot?"

  He didn't even look up. "No. That won't be necessary."

  "Oh, well thank Heaven for that."

  We were interrupted by the sounds of a vehicle pulling into the parking garage. I looked, and sure enough, it was my brothers' pickup, emblazed with the Moon Construction logo.

  "Look," I said, pointing to the truck, which was now pulling into its usual spot. "I'm only down here to meet my brothers, not that it's anyone's business."

  No response. And no pause in the texting.

  "So, what is it?" I demanded. "You're telling on me? If so, you're wasting your time, because there's nothing to tell."

  He finished with the text and tucked the phone back into his pocket. He crossed his arms and continued to block my path.

  I gave an epic eye-roll. "Un-freaking-believable."

  Halfway across the garage, my brothers were getting out of their truck. At the sight of me, facing off against some big guy in a suit, they both paused.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered out, "Hey! Over here!"

  Yeah, it was stupid. Obviously, they knew exactly where I was, but I was looking to make a point.

  Together, Steve and Anthony sauntered over. They gave the guy a good, long look.

  Turning to me, Steve asked, "Want us to get rid of him?"

  If only it were that easy. "How?" I asked.

  Steve shrugged. "Eh, we could get the truck, run him over."

  In unison, we all turned to look at the guy. He was big, but not nearly as big as the pickup. If I really were looking to hurt him, it would be a decent plan, assuming the guy didn't have a gun, which he probably did.

  So much for that idea.

  Besides, I didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted him to go away.

  It was Anthony who said, "We can't run him over. We just got the bumper repaired." He turned to me and said, "Six hundred bucks. Can you believe it?"

  I thought of my own vehicle situation. "It could be worse," I told him. "You could have your car flattened by a crazy ex."

  Anthony gave a slow nod. "Well, there is that."

  Through all this, Marshall just stood there, looking so stoic that I wanted to scream.

  Inside my front pocket, my cell phone vibrated. Reluctantly, I pulled it out and checked the display.

  Well, at least it wasn't Rango.

  It was Jake.

  Chapter 29

  I answered with a terse, "What?"

  Jake's voice was annoyingly calm as he said, "Is there something you wanna to tell me?"

  I was getting a little tired of that question. "Yeah," I said. "I'm trapped in a parking garage. How's that?"

  Next to me, Anthony snickered.

  On the phone, Jake asked, "Who's that?"

  My tone grew snotty. "Don't you know?"

  "If I did, I wouldn’t be asking."

  "Right. Except it seems to me that you're getting all these updates, so you probably know exactly who that was." I glanced around. "And where we are. And what we're doing. And–"

  "Let me talk to Marshall," he said.

  "No," I told him. "If you want to talk to Marshall, call him yourself."

  "Alright." And then he was gone.

  A moment later, a cell phone rang. Marshall reached into his inside front pocket and pulled out his phone. He answered with a no-nonsense, "Marshall here."

  It was so ludicrous that I might've laughed, except for the fact that by now, I was far too irritated.

  I watched in sullen silence as Marshall and the caller – Jake, obviously – exchanged a few words, mostly along the lines of, "Yeah. She's out here with two guys claiming to be her brothers…"

  "Claiming?" I muttered. "Well, that's rich."

  A moment later, Marshall ended the call and returned his phone to the same pocket. Immediately, my own cell phone started buzzing again.

  Sure enough, it was Jake. I hit the answer button and said, "So, were you happy with what you learned?"

  "Happy as I’m gonna be."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means you promised to stay put. If you're not, I need to know."

  "Oh yeah? Why's that?" A sudden popping noise made me pause. The sound hadn't come from my end of the phone. It had come from Jake's. I swallowed. Fireworks? Somehow, I didn't think so. "What was that?"

  Jake's response was scarily long in coming. "Eh, normal stuff. Not a big deal."

  "Normal stuff? What kind of normal stuff?"

  "It's nothing," he said. "So you're not going anywhere, right?"

  "Quit trying to change the subject. That wasn't 'nothing.' I could tell."

  I heard fumbling like he was looking out a window or something. "Eh, nothing that involves me." In his voice, I heard the hint of a smile. "You weren't worried, were you?"

  "Yes. I was worried, actually."

  "Yeah? Now you know how I feel."

  I gave a small shake of my head. "Huh?"

  He sounded ready to laugh. "Sucks, don't it?"

  "God, you are such a…" I didn't even know what to say. My lips twitched. "I suppose you think that's funny?"

  "Yeah. Because it is." He paused. "Look, I've gotta deal with something. You gonna be there when I get done?"

  It was time to tease him back. "Probably."

  "I'll take that as a 'yes.' And how about the time in-between? You going anywhere?"

  "No. I ordered pizza."

  "Nice." Again, his tone grew teasing. "For Marshall, too?"

  My gaze slid to Marshall, who was still blocking my path. Was Jake serious? I doubted it. But still, I couldn't help but wonder, should I invite him?

  Chapter 30

  I was up in the penthouse with Steve and Anthony. The pizza had just arrived, and we were digging in.

  Steve grabbed a couple of slices and slapped them together, with the topping sides facing each other, like a weird kind of pizza sandwich. He shoved the contraption toward his face and bit off a huge chunk. With his mouth full, he said, "Good thing he didn't want any."

  I shook my head. "Huh?"

  "I'm just saying." Steve kept on chewing, even as he shoved more pizza into his face. "Marshall. The guy was big. Like he'd eat a lot. You know?"

  I gave Steve a look. His pizza sandwich was already gone, and he was reaching for two more slices.

  "Yeah," I said. "No one likes a pig, right?"

  He slapped the new pieces together and took another huge bite. Chewing around it, he said, "It don't count when the pig's family."

  I looked to Anthony. He was reaching for what? His third slice? I looked down to the open pizza box. The pizza was almost gone, and I hadn't eaten a single piece.

  When I looked up again, Anthony's latest slice was already inside his mouth. And then, with a loud swallow, it was gone.

  I couldn’t help but stare. How on Earth did he do that? If I ate that fast, I'm pretty I'd sure I'd hurt something. I was still staring when Anthony said, "Hey, Luna."

  "What?"

  He grinned. "Oink."

  I had to laugh. I don't why I was surprised. It's not like I hadn't seen them eat pizza before, even if Steve's pizza-sandwich method was a new development.

  My laugher faded as I looked down to my own plate. On it, sat one lone slice, untouched, and if I were being totally honest, mostly unwanted.

  Probably, I hadn't wanted the pizza so much as the company. With a heavy sigh, I shoved away the plate and said, "You guys want this?"

  Steve gave the plate an odd look. "What am I gonna do with just one slice?" He looked to Anthony and said, "You want it? It's all yours."

  Anthony wasted no time. He grabbed the piece and shoved it into his mouth. And then, with a gulp, it was gone.

  My own mouth fell open. I looked to the nearby pizza box.

  It was empty. Completely empty.

  Too late, it occurred to me that I might want a slice in five minutes or so. Okay, I had offered it and all. But I guess I had
n't expected them to take me up on it so quickly.

  I felt myself frown. They might've asked, "Are you sure?" Or how about, "Hey, is anything wrong?"

  I was still frowning when my brothers burst out laughing.

  For some reason, it annoyed the snot out of me. "What?" I snapped.

  Through choked laughter, Steve managed to say, "Your face."

  "What about my face?" I demanded.

  "You're like, 'I can't believe they freakin' ate it.'"

  He was right. I couldn’t believe it. But I hated the thought of saying so.

  To my continued annoyance, they were still laughing. Anthony said, "Don't be mad. You told us we could have it."

  He was right, of course. I tried for a casual shrug. "I'm not mad."

  I was a little hurt, maybe, but that wasn't exactly their fault. They were guys. They didn't know how this was supposed to go.

  Now, my sister, she would've known for sure. If I'd offered her my pizza, she would've asked, "Are you sure you don't want it?" And then, she would've wheedled the truth out of me, and not only about my appetite.

  Soon, I would've been telling her everything that had gone wrong today. The list was long. It might've taken a while, but she definitely would've listened. But my brothers? It was like they didn't even care.

  Still laughing, Steve said, "Admit it. You're mad."

  "Oh, shut up," I told him. "I am not."

  Okay, maybe I was a little mad, but it was mostly at myself.

  Steve and Anthony exchanged a look. It was Anthony who said, "Don't worry. There's another one outside."

  I blinked over at him. "What?"

  "Another pizza," he said. "We called, had them double the order."

  I paused. Now this made zero sense.

  But Steve was saying, "Yeah. You never order enough, so we figured we'd teach you a lesson."

  I glanced toward the penthouse doors. "When you say, 'outside,' what do you mean, exactly?"

  In my mind, I saw visions of crushed pizza boxes strewn across the city-street. Considering my brothers, it wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded.

  Steve pushed himself up from the sofa and strode to the penthouse double doors. He flung the nearest one open and reached down into the hall. A moment later, he emerged with another pizza box.