by Lexxi Chase
“It’s over bitch,” he stretched out skillfully on top of her. Then leaned down closer till they were nose to nose. “Shoulda learned your fuckin’ lesson the first time,” he rasped, his hot, labored breath blazing against her parted lips.
Jesus, he’s really going to kill me this time, she thought, even as visions of his vulgar, raunchy video performance played in her head. The bastard had her right where he wanted her. She stared defiantly into his cold, murderous eyes. He tossed his head as she struggled and his long, sensuous hair veiled her face, her lips, her neck and chest, and breathless, she still heated from his closeness. From the memories of their wanton sex games in Portland and his current raw, ripe masculine scent.
“Go for it,” she dared him breathlessly.
If I have to die early, she thought, it might as well be by Jake’s hands tonight. She stopped struggling, waiting for the inevitable. The final conclusion to all their trials and power struggles, to all their vicious fights and retaliations, to all their sick, sordid attempts to one up each other and revel in the glory and triumph and sensuality of the exhilarating battle and dramatic fight.
Inches from her, Jake’s blazing eyes dimmed slowly as he realized she’d stopped thrashing. Realized, like on the last night of their final incident, she’d thrown in the towel and given him uncontested power over her body and soul. Still panting from their scuffle, he loosened his grip gradually, painstakingly, until he only lightly held her throat.
“No fun when ya don’t struggle,” he laughed bitterly and straightened up to sit comfortably on her chest. “So, ya wanted me here, ya stupid cunt,” he looked down at her disgustedly, “Disappointed I don’t wanna collect my fuckin’ prize?”
They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them sure where they were going from here, both of them certain there’d be no redemption, deliverance or salvation for their souls tonight. His hands circling her throat were slippery and he raised his left arm, raking back his dampened, tousled hair and blinking sweat from his tired eyes. At a loss for words, Amanda said nothing. Unnerved, knowing he could still end it in a matter of minutes, Jake tightened his grip on her throat once more.
“Open up!”
It was Tyler. They both started at the frantic kicking and pounding on the locked bedroom door. Jake slid off her nonchalantly and strolled across the room. Despite wearing only his boxers, he angrily swung open the door. Amanda barely had enough time to shield her naked body as she scrambled under the tangled sheets. During their struggle her towel had fallen to the floor.
“What’s the emergency?” Jake laughed as Tyler and Wade rushed in.
“You OK Amanda?” Tyler asked.
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” she said quietly, wondering if her messed hair and makeup betrayed her blatant dishonesty and whether there were already bruises on her throat.
“We heard you fighting,” Wade said and for the first time Amanda noticed her sister and Katelyn standing nervously just outside her door.
“Read the headlines,” Jake groaned, “Or just about every fuckin’ page in Heart of Steel. Nothin’ Jake does ever feels wrong. Everything always feels exactly right.”
Wade glared at her dejectedly and there was no mistaking the disappointment, disgust and jealousy in his eyes. She looked away quickly, yanking the sheets up higher across her chest.
“I’m fine,” she lied just as Rachel scuttled into the room and to her side.
“Amanda,” she said with surprising conviction. “Maybe it’s better you and Jake don’t hang out tonight.”
Snickering, Jake ambled slowly towards her, his long sensuous hair flowing smoothly down his shoulders and onto his muscular, rippled chest. His soft, wispy bangs barely shielded his ardent, stormy eyes.
“Really Rachel?” he crooned seductively, pushing up sensuously against her and running his adept fingers skillfully through her mousy brown hair. “Got a better offer for me?”
“No,” she gasped and stepped aside. “That’s not what I...”
But Amanda was up and off the bed before she finished, landing a stinging slap across Jake’s grinning face.
“Now you’re dead!” she shrieked like a raving lunatic, unconcerned she’d leapt naked from under the sheets. All hell broke loose when Jake grabbed her, shaking her by the hair and brutally forcing her to her knees.
The paparazzi would have loved it but unfortunately for them their drones were parked for the night. They couldn’t see through walls anyway and the ten or twelve remaining photographers were segregated at the foot of her long driveway, acres away behind her locked front gates. Wade and Tyler dove on Jake furiously as Rachel and Katelyn struggled to drag Amanda to safety.
Although Tyler smashed into Jake like a linebacker, it didn’t take him down. Instead, Jake stumbled a few steps backwards and ducked his head skillfully to avoid Wade’s oncoming punch. Lunging forward, he wrestled Wade into a headlock, barely flinching even as Tyler landed on his back.
“Stop!” Amanda was screaming.
Nothing Katelyn or Rachel did quieted her and it took all of their strength and frantic maneuvering to keep her out of the melee. It lasted for almost five minutes, an incredibly long time for Jake to be in any fight. He usually finished off hapless adversaries in less than half that time. But Tyler was a former boxer and Wade, fueled by his ego and infatuation for Amanda, put up a much better fight than when Jake first arrived.
Just after Jake floored him with a powerful punch to his left temple, and crashed into the wall in a ferocious embrace with Tyler, Katelyn ended the battle. But not the way she tried.
“I’m callin’ the cops!” she screamed frantically, fumbling to dial 911 on Jake’s phone she’d scooped from the nightstand.
She was brought to her knees by Amanda as everyone turned to look. Tossing the phone from Katelyn’s hands as she wrenched her head back by her hair, Amanda reigned triumphant, still naked, and bellowed at the top of her lungs.
“It’s over! Wade, Tyler! Please, everyone just go and leave me and Jake alone.”
Everyone except Jake stared incredulously at Amanda. Wade scrambled up from the floor and Tyler, viciously shoved into the wall by Jake once more for good measure, cursed and angrily straightened his rumpled pajamas, mumbling low and angrily under his breath.
“Fuckin’ cocksucker,” he said.
“What I tell ya, you simpletons!” Jake screamed. “Amanda don’t need no knight in shining armor, ‘cept the one,” he grinned, “she’s got right here.”
He stepped back arrogantly, assuredly, and confidently lifted his arm and swept his tousled hair from his slightly bloodied, sweating face.
“Amanda...” Rachel whispered, but Amanda casually brushed her aside.
“Just go everyone, please,” she pleaded, and one by one they shuffled uncertainly out her bedroom door.
She rushed forward after them and locked it, turning around apologetically to face Jake. He’d walked over to her mini bar by the window and bottles clinked as he sorted through its contents, looking for liquid fortification to fuel what was going to be a very long night.
“There’s Jack Daniel’s,” Amanda said, crossing the room and grabbing her discarded towel.
She wrapped it around herself gingerly as Jake watched her.
“No need for that,” he snickered. “Seen it plenty ‘a times already. And so have the boys in your cavalry, long before I let ‘em into this room.”
She sighed. She’d never, ever be able to erase that. She’d never rectify her sins, real or imagined, or the pain, disgrace and humiliation in Jake’s heart and desolation in his somber eyes. Tyler had come before him, but there was no excuse concerning Wade.
“Jake please,” she pleaded quietly, “Can we please not fight anymore tonight?”
He snickered before turning from her and poured himself a double shot. Tilting his head back, he gulped the contents before automatically reaching for more. Jesus, Amanda thought, watching him guzzle more whiskey.
He’s never looked better, more virile or inviting, and she longed to kiss the smooth curve of his throat as he drank and tossed his head. It was all she could do not to lunge forward and tangle her hands in his long, unbridled hair.
Then, as she remembered his sordid video with Misty, she lowered her head and tightly shut her eyes. Even so, the horrific images engulfed her. Despite her pain and horror, she remembered also, with a warm, moist tingling between her thighs, how erotic and filthy he’d been and how skillfully he’d done her. God, she admitted to herself wryly, I’d die right now for just one last chance to have Jake the way Misty had him the other night.
“So,” Jake crooned softly, gloriously heated from liquid strength, “just what d’ya suggest we do if we don’t fight anymore tonight?”
The thinly veiled suggestion surged through her like lightning and she stared at him, thunderstruck, unable to speak or avert her eyes. Infused with new vitality and hunger by the whiskey, he glared back at her seductively. What else would be new, he thought, and slammed his glass down on the table and strode across the room.
“Don’t even think it,” he sneered and stretched out alluringly anyway on her bed. “You’re about the absolute last person I’d fuck.”
Swallowing hard, Amanda found her voice inside defeat and sighed.
“Fine Jake, I get it. Not like ya gotta hit me over the head.”
“I could do that, no problem,” he laughed and stretched out more fully on her bed.
She stood there like an idiot for a few moments just looking at him. The bastard’s loving this, she thought. He always knew just how to prod her, incite her and cause her increasing pain. Groaning softly, tantalizingly, he tensed his strong, muscular legs and reached his toned, tattooed arms above his head. Gazing at her coyly, he gently brushed away his soft bangs that had fallen seductively into his storming eyes.
Fucking prick, Amanda thought, but said nothing. Then realized suddenly that two could play this game. She leisurely unraveled her towel, letting it slide slowly down her smooth, enticing body to coil sensuously around her ankles as it hit the floor. Fueled by his heated gaze and her own hot, insatiable desires, she found courage inside her desperation and strength inside her despair.
“No matter what you say, what you do,” she said adamantly, “I still love you...and always will.”
“Yeah right,” he snickered, repositioning himself to lie more comfortably. “I’m fuckin’ sick ‘a hearin’ it.”
He yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.
“You’ve never said it!” she snapped. “Not even when we were happy together.”
He sat up abruptly.
“Happy and together, Amanda? Those two things kinda cancel each other out with you.”
“Whatever, you’ve never said it,” she sniped angrily.
“Because unlike you,” he leaned forward, “I don’t fuckin’ lie.”
He might as well have plunged a knife right through her heart.
“I don’t believe you,” she asserted. “Even if you don’t wanna admit it, even if you don’t know it, you loved me back then and...and...” she stammered, “I think you still do.”
“Fuck Amanda,” he laughed, “Ya really oughta get together with Misty or somethin’. She said the exact same fuckin’ thing.”
“Misty!” she growled, “What the fuck is it with that tramp, Jake? Why’s anything she says important? Why’s she so fuckin’ important?” she screamed.
“She’s not,” Jake laughed dryly.
“Oh really? Then why the fuck d’ya keep mentioning her?”
He smiled.
“Because it irritates the fuck outa ya,” he said.
Damn bastard knew how to push all her buttons. Angry and disgusted, Amanda turned away, yanking open her lingerie drawer. Rifling through its expensive silk, satin and lace contents, she wondered glumly if she should even bother. Jake wanted just about anyone but her tonight. She settled on a white satin thin-strap chemise with matching panties and despondently put them on. At least I’ll look great in my misery, she thought, and was surprised to see Jake still watching her.
“Gonna go model that for Wade?” he sneered.
“Stop. Please...”
“No? Well if that’s meant for me you’re wastin’ your time.”
His voice was cold, barren and depthless and his darkening eyes mirrored his expanding pain.
“Jake,” she sighed, at a near loss for words even as she managed to look him squarely in the eyes. “I’d do anything to take back all the mistakes I’ve made, all the stupid, horrible things I’ve done to hurt you. But I can’t go back in time. I can’t make them go away.”
He sighed heavily and stared at her, silent. What the fuck am I still doing here, he asked himself, avoiding the answer. Did I really just come to smack down Wade? He shivered as the cold tentacles of realization engulfed him. His stomach churned and rolled as he wrestled with the harsh, grim reality. Its heavy weight leaned against his heart and crushed his broken soul.
“Let’s see how much ya really love me,” he said and slithered off the bed, heading for his suitcase across the room.
The ominous, bad feeling hit Amanda even before he got there. Before he unzipped it, rummaged through it and removed the smooth leather holster cradling his brand new gun. Stunned for a moment, Amanda just stood there. This can’t be happening, she thought. He can’t actually be taking things this far.
“Ready for some fun n’ games?” he crooned, turning to face her.
“Jake, you can’t be fuckin’ serious. Is that thing even real?”
But she knew the answer even before she asked the question. He laughed, expertly twirling the gun by its trigger guard before raising his arm and pointing the weapon straight at her face.
“Real as it gets bitch,” he rasped.
Shaking, she remembered dismally he knew just how to use it. Remembered him telling her all about his teen years in Clayton, Louisiana. How he’d shot empty beer cans on fences and riddled bullets into faraway trees. And by all accounts, his childhood friends had confirmed it in interviews, Jake was an excellent marksman, a near perfect shot.
But this, tonight, was skirting the heights of insanity, crossing the limits, even for him.
“Jake, this isn’t fuckin’ funny.”
“Am I laughin’?” he steadied the gun and aimed it with precision, directly at her head.
His arm tensed. He deftly fingered the gun’s trigger.
“Put that fuckin’ thing down,” Amanda finally said.
“No,” was all he answered and they both froze for a moment, eyeing each other nervously and considering their next move.
“What d’ya want?” Amanda asked.
***
Call it a day cowboy, Jesse’s next text rolled in.
Wade had given up on sleeping. His raging jealousy of Jake and tremendous worry about Amanda had pretty much nixed all chance of slumber or even any rest. Despite Amanda’s foolish refusal of anyone’s help, he wasn’t about to leave her hanging. Trapped in Jake’s clutches, her sanity and health and even her life were at stake.
Can’t, Wade replied. Got a really bad feelin & not goin anywhere at least till Jake leaves.
Ur embarrassin beat down is all over the net, Jesse told him.
Ya well there’s always round 2.
Round three really, Wade corrected himself internally. He hadn’t as yet told Jesse the full story of the fruitless scuffle half hour ago in Amanda’s room. Despite his recent failure to protect her, he was determined to keep trying, determined to stay. If nothing else, his and Tyler’s interventions were a jarring interruption, a disconcerting distraction to Jake’s malicious plans. Of course he knew nothing of Jake’s new and demented tactics just down the hall in the next room.
Doesn’t matter what u do pal, Jesse lectured him, Jake ain’t goin nowhere. That prick will be around long after u leave.
Whatever, Wade texted, and swiped off the screen.
Knowing Jesse ju
st wanted the best for him, and probably Amanda too, didn’t do anything to help matters. And as he leaned back on the bed dejectedly he thought, maybe nothing in the world would help this situation. Amanda was hell-bent to win back her errant, whoring ex-boyfriend and Jake was just as determined to make her pay for her growing pile of transgressions, destroying her in any way possible, at any cost.
Sweeping back the sheets violently, he jumped from the bed and reached for his jeans. Ignoring Jesse’s incoming messages, he decided to clear his cluttered thoughts and go outside for a walk.
***
“It’s not about what I want, Amanda. It’s about what you fuckin’ want,” Jake explained.
His melodic, soothing voice was sullen and hopeless, but as even as his gaze.
Amanda’s heart pounded crazily in her chest. What the fuck have I done, she wondered frantically. I’ve caused this, she thought. Just like our hideous final incident, I’ve brought this on myself. She struggled to gather her racing thoughts and think clearly. Overcome by the zillion words swirling in her head as she struggled to think of something calming and rational to say. Something that wouldn’t send him further over the edge. Diving headlong into the deep end.
“What I want,” she said firmly, “is for you to put the stupid gun down before someone gets hurt.”
“Someone?” he raised his eyebrow.
“Yeah,” she said. “Like you or me.”
He laughed, bitter and angry.
“Most likely you,” he said. “Since, if ya haven’t noticed, I’m the one with the fuckin’ gun in my hand.”
“Then you tell me,” she sighed. “What is it you want me to say? What the fuck am I supposed to want?” she yelled.
“To show me how much ya love me,” he insisted. “If I wasn’t here you’d be fuckin’ Wade.”
The truth hit her like a sledgehammer. She screamed inside to deny it, but they both knew it was true. Never mind that it was Jake’s stinging infidelity that drove her into Wade’s arms in the first place, and more recently right into the trembling grip of that dim-witted moron Zack. She stared at him numbly because arguing was futile. She was guilty as charged and at his mercy. Her eyes filled with tears and he lowered his gun and smiled.