Twisted Fate (Twisted Fate Series Book 1)

by Emery Jacobs

  I follow Stone to the front of the house. As we approach the window, he stops and turns to look at me.

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on. But this shit is not going down at my house. Got it?”

  “What are you talking about? You came and got me, brought me up to the front door, and now you’re giving me vague random speeches about some shit I know nothing about.” I grab the front door handle just as Stone slams his hand against the door, preventing me from opening it.

  “What the hell, man? Fucking tell me. What’s going on?”

  “Fish, Ryker, and a couple other guys are out there with Caleb.”

  “What the fuck is he doing here?”

  “Did you know he is back in town?”

  “Yeah, Fish told me back in November. He said that he’s working at The Hard Ink.”

  I pull on the doorknob again, but Stone’s not budging.

  “You brought me up here and told me that son-of-a-bitch is in the yard, but you won’t let me go take care of it?”

  “There’s something else that you need to know.”

  “What? I wish you motherfuckers would stop with all this ‘I know but you don’t’ bullshit. What else do I need to know?”

  “He showed up about twenty minutes ago. He’s shitfaced. I mean can barely walk.”

  “Is he driving?” I ask. Like I fucking care.

  “No, he’s with some brown haired chick. She must be driving. But anyway, he’s trying to get in to see Jovie. He is asking about her. Says he needs to see her. To talk to her.”

  “What the fuck? Let me out the front door before I kick it in. Seriously, Stone. Open the door.”

  He removes his hand from the door. And I yank it open. Charging into the front yard, I notice Fish is holding him around his chest escorting him back to his vehicle. Some chick with long brown hair is sitting in the driver’s seat. Fish pulls open the passenger door, shoves him inside, and then slams it shut. I sprint to the end of the driveway, but it’s a no-go because Fish grabs my arm to stop me. Caleb’s window is down, and as soon as our eyes meet, the car stops.

  “Does she fucking know?” he slurs from inside the car.

  I break away from Fish and jog down the sidewalk until I’m standing in front of his window. He’s drunk. So damn drunk.

  “Stay the fuck away from her. I don’t know what’s going on. But if you go near Jovie, I swear it will be the last thing your useless ass does.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she? But she will. You can count on it, brother. You can fucking count on it.” He stares at me until the car is out of sight. I turn around and move back toward the house.

  Fish places his hand on my shoulder, bringing me to a stop.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, man. I’m wondering what he’s talking about.”

  “No clue. But you don’t think… I can’t even bring myself to say it.” I look away.

  “No, I don’t think he’s fucking Jovie. If that’s what you’re thinking. He’s been gone for years. Why he’d show up and start hooking up with your girl doesn’t make sense. There’s more to it. Maybe I’ll head over to The Hard Ink tomorrow and get some answers from him.”

  “No. Leave him alone. I’ll take care of him if he harasses Jovie. Otherwise, just let him be. Let him fucking be.” I look at Fish and he nods.

  “I’m heading back inside to get Jovie. I gotta get out of here. Too much shit for one night,” I say.

  “Okay, man. See ya.” He walks toward the house.

  This means nothing. Everything is perfect with Jovie and me. She’s mine. I know she would never hook up with some piece of shit like Caleb. I run my hand through my hair as I turn and head toward the house. I’m going to get my girl and get the hell out of this place.

  Chapter 29

  Jovie

  “Are you fucking anybody else?” Jack asks with ease. Like he believes it’s true, or maybe he’s sleeping with somebody else and this is his way of telling me. We’ve been in this relationship about three months. What if he can’t handle it and wants out.

  “No. Why would you even ask that?”

  He walks over to the bed, sits down beside me, and looks into my eyes.

  “No reason, just making sure.” He smiles as he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me into his lap. I straddle his warm, almost naked body. This guy makes me feel things I’ve never felt. To have been such an asshole in the beginning, he has recovered nicely.

  He closes his eyes as my hands massage his neck and scalp. Then I can’t help myself. I have to ask.

  “Are you fucking anybody else?”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” His eyes snap open. Dark eyes stare back at me.

  “No. You asked me, so why can’t I ask you?”

  “Those are the most ridiculous words I’ve ever heard come off those red lips.” He gently moves his finger around my mouth. Then over my lips. My tongue darts out and licks my bottom lip. Slowly. He slips his finger into my mouth. I wrap my lips around it as I tilt my head back and close my eyes. I lick, suck, and slowly release his finger. He drags his wet finger down my chin, neck, and chest. The lifting of my tank top prompts me to raise my arms above my head. Off with the tank leaves me bare, naked, and still straddling this beautiful guy.

  He rolls me over until I’m on my back. He’s hovering over me—so close, the warmth of his skin is all I feel. He lowers himself with ease until his lips are on my breast. Licking and sucking, one and then the other. Moving his mouth down my stomach nipping my skin until he reaches my panties. The panties go sailing across the room in less than three seconds. Warm breath on my inner thighs as he alternates between kissing, blowing, and nipping. I spread my legs in desperation. He needs to give me something. His tongue, a finger, his dick. I lift my hips off the bed trying to make contact with something on his body. He suddenly pulls his head back.

  “Jack. Stop,” I plead.

  “You want me to stop, babe?”

  “No, not stop, but no more teasing.”

  He laughs. Then he presses his lips to my center. The spot that controls all my feeling and emotion during sex. He licks, flicks, and then sucks. Over and over and over until my legs wrap around his neck and my ass lifts off the bed. He slides his hands under my bottom to keep me exactly where he wants.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I yell.

  My hips buck against his face. The suction is almost more than my sensitive little spot can take. I swear my eyes roll back in my head as my entire body trembles from the waist down. Deep breathing in and out is all I can do. It’s as if I just ran a damn marathon. My legs are weak and my senses are on high alert. He lifts his head and crawls up my body. When he reaches my neck, he blows his warm breath along my skin until he reaches my ear.

  “I love it when you say words like fucking and shit when I make you come. It is such a turn on.”

  “Take your boxers off,” I whisper.

  The words are barely out of my mouth before his bare skin presses against mine. He pushes his hardness into my center as he shifts above me. He rocks his hips from side to side, and then moves down slightly until his tip is inside of me. I wrap my legs around his ass and push. He holds back for a second before advancing the tip in a bit farther and then pulling out. He continues this little ritual until he can’t take it anymore. He plunges into me with force. Hard and fast, then he slows and finds a rhythm. He moves in and out… slow, smooth, and gentle. The friction—the pressure—is perfect. His chest rises and falls as his breathing speeds up.

  “I love you, Jovie.” He moans.

  A tear rolls down my cheek. I have no idea where it came from, but there are more. I tuck my face into his chest as he lowers himself onto my body once he finds his release. I don’t want him to see my tears. Who cries during sex?

  He rolls off me. Grabbing my hand, he pulls it into his chest and places it over his heart.

  “Do you feel that?” he asks.

  “Of course, why?”

 
; “Until I met you, there wasn’t beating. Only existing. Thank you.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to say thank you or you’re welcome after sex anymore.” I giggle.

  “You don’t understand that over the last few months, you have given me a life that I want to wake up to every morning.”

  “Jack, I love you.” I turn to face him. He smiles and kisses me on the nose.

  “I love you, too.” He wraps his arms around me pulling me in tight.

  “I want to keep you here. This close to me, forever.”

  “I want that, too.” I nuzzle my face into his chest and let him hold me.

  My eyelids are heavy even though I know that I need to shower before sleeping, but I’m here with him. He’s holding me so tightly, I’m afraid he’s gonna break me. But not on purpose. Because he loves me. Just as I’m drifting, he moves.

  “I’ve gotta get cleaned up, and so do you. Come shower with me.” He mumbles as he rolls out of bed.

  “In a few minutes. I’m gonna lie here for a bit.”

  He walks across the bedroom naked and beautiful. I bet he has at least twenty tattoos, and I want to count every one. The bathroom door closes, and now I’m wide awake. So I sit up and swing my legs off the side of the bed. As I reach for my phone on the nightstand, my hand bumps an empty glass and it tumbles to the floor.

  “Shit.”

  I bend over to retrieve it, saying silent thanks that it’s empty. So no mess to clean up. I glance over toward the nightstand. There’s an unfamiliar sketchbook on the bottom shelf. I bet this is one of the originals. I really want to see how much his art has progressed. He won’t care. He loves me.

  I pick up the glass and grab the sketchbook. Then I place the glass back in its spot on the nightstand before leaning back into the pillows getting comfortable. I flip through the first few pages. It’s faces. Only faces. I recognize Annie, Fish, and even Stone. They look different. Younger. But there are lots of people I don’t know. Which isn’t surprising since this book is obviously several years old.

  The shower goes off and Jack cracks the bathroom door.

  “I thought you were gonna join me,” he says.

  “I know, but I’m looking at your art. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He pushes the door closed and I continue flipping pages.

  About mid-way through the book, my eyes lock onto another set of blue eyes. Her eyes. My eyes. Blonde hair. Small nose. And the smile that is so big, you can see it before she walks into a room. She is happy, smiling, almost glowing. She’s alive. In this sketch, she’s alive.

  The door to the bathroom opens, and in an instant, Jack is standing in front of me. I look up from the book. The tears are falling. Again. But this time, I know why I’m crying. I just don’t know what to do about it. What to say.

  “Jovie, you’re crying. What’s wrong?” He drops down in front of me. His brown eyes look at me and then down at the picture.

  “Where did you find that book?”

  I’m still speechless. I reach deep into my soul to find the words. Because the shit’s about to get real. Real fucking ugly. My mind is reeling in self-doubt. Nothing makes sense anymore, but yet everything is here in my face.

  “You didn’t want me to find this book, did you?”

  “No, I don’t care that you found it. I just haven’t seen it in a while.”

  I look down at the picture and then back at Jack.

  “How did you know her?” I ask.

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Her. How in the fuck did you know her?” I point to the picture in the book of the blonde girl with my same blue eyes.

  “It’s a long story. But I can assure you that everything she broke in a year’s time, you’ve fixed in three months.”

  My breathing is fast and my chest is tight. The tingling in my face turns to numbness. I’m drowning. There’s no way out. I drop the book, as I lay flat on the bed. As I close my eyes, I inhale deeply and then exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe and it will all be over with soon.

  “Jovie, are you okay?” I hear the fear in his voice. But I don’t look at him. Not now.

  He takes both of my hands in his, but I pull away.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I pant.

  He stands, runs his finger through his hair as he paces the entire room. Over and over again. Until I can breathe again. I’m exhausted, but I slowly pull myself up to a sitting position. Jack stops pacing. He looks at me and then at the book on the floor. His thoughts are racing. I can see it in his eyes.

  “Tell me who the girl in the sketchbook is,” I demand.

  “Why? It doesn’t matter. It was years ago. I swear there’s nobody, but you.”

  “Fucking tell me, Jack!”

  “Her name was Piper. She was my girlfriend when I was nineteen. Some really bad shit went down. And I don’t know, Jovie. This is hard for me. I don’t talk about her or what happened because it fucked me up for a long time. Well, until you.”

  I stand beside the bed. My legs are too shaky. They won’t hold me up, so I drop to the floor.

  “Tell me what happened to her.”

  “I walked in on her fucking a former friend of mine at a frat party. She climbed into my truck. She begged me not to leave her. I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to take her home. Let her roommate help me get her out. But we never made it. A drunk driver hit us head on. It killed her instantly.”

  He drops his head as he sits down on the floor beside me. He flips through the book until he comes to her picture.

  “It’s her. She’s the one with the blue eyes. She’s the reason you asked me if I was an angel. Ivy was talking about her that night at the bar. It’s always been about her. Am I right, Jack?”

  “No, Jovie. It’s never been about her. It’s you. Always you.”

  He crawls over closer to me. I take the book from him and look at her one last time.

  “You’re wrong. My entire life has been about her. Her death has dictated every decision my parents made for me. And now you. How did this happen? You fucking found me. You knew this entire time. Didn’t you?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

  “Piper was my sister! You asshole. And you knew it. Didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

  My mind is hazy and I’m off balance. He knew the whole time. Or maybe he didn’t know. It doesn’t fucking matter.

  I stand, clutching the sketchbook in my hand. I don’t know what to do. How to act. I’ve never felt so much grief, so much anger, so much hurt, so much uncertainty. I look down at him.

  “Jovie, I…” His eyes are vacant.

  “Say something. Say fucking anything. Don’t just sit there like that!”

  Nothing. He says nothing.

  I hurl the sketchbook across the room before grabbing my clothes and getting dressed. When I turn around Jack is standing directly in front of me. He grabs my arms and looks into my eyes.

  “I didn’t fucking know. I swear to you.”

  “Let go of me. This is too much. I have to go.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I step back away from him. Grabbing my bag, I stuff my phone inside and grab my keys.

  My wobbly legs carry me out of the room and out the front door. He doesn’t come after me—again.

  Chapter 30

  Jack

  I stand in the center of my bedroom. The same place I stood over a month ago, when Jovie introduced me to my worst fucking nightmare. I still don’t know how the hell it happened. But now, since I’ve had some time to sort things out. It is becoming much clearer. I never met Piper’s family. She was always very private. Hell, I really didn’t know Piper. But we were young. And looking back, I know she was running from something. Most likely herself… her life. I was only a temporary fix in her addiction to finding something different. Something better.

  And that tattoo. Jovie’s tatto
o. It is one that I designed for Piper over seven years ago. The sketch she gave me is mine. It is my drawing, only I never got around to putting any ink on Piper. The day that Jovie told me she had found it in a box in her dead sister’s room, I should have figured it out. How else do I explain her having the sketch?

  Finally, Caleb. He somehow must have found out about Jovie. That’s the only way to explain why he showed up looking for her. Jovie is not Piper, and I know she wouldn’t screw around with him. She’s not that person. She loves me. I truly believe that.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah,” I grab my bag off the bed before walking out into the living room.

  “You sure you want to do this? It’s a long trip.”

  Annie’s standing in the doorway with my keys in her hand.

  “I’m sure. I have to talk to her. That night, I hardly said anything. I was too shocked. But now that I’ve had some time to sort things out, I have to go.”

  She drops the keys in my hand and wraps her arms around me for a hug.

  “Do you even know what you’re gonna say?”

  “No, but what I do know is that I miss her. And every day that we’re apart, it gets worse. I have to try.”

  She releases me before we walk outside. I close the door and double check the lock. Driving twelve hours in hopes of talking to Jovie is crazy. But now more than ever, I need her and I know she needs me.

  Chapter 31

  Jovie

  The spring air surrounds me as I take in the laughter of the two small girl’s running through the small neighborhood park. It’s my park. Well, not really, but is across the street from my house. It’s the place I always seem to find my way back to. To think. To dream. To sort out all the shit that is my life. I’ve been here on this bench alone, every single day for the last month. Hours pass before I realize it, but that’s a good thing. Because being here is soothing.

  Dr. Birch may not have been right about much. Well, maybe she was right about a few things. But the one thing I remember her telling me in our first session was that Brownsboro is my home. Now, after all these months of fighting the truth, I think she may be right.