“All right, darling, if you want to get your ass handed to ya, at least it’s a fine ass.” My competitor looks me up and down then focuses several moments on my breasts. Gross.
“It’s Delilah,” I shout over the music. “Not doll face or darling. Delilah.”
“I’m Gunner and it will be a pleasure to kick your fine ass, Delilah.” I shrug off his comment and focus on the game.
I turn and select a pool stick from the holder. The tip is dry and I grab the blue cube, chalking up the end. Jake’s eyes connect with mine, but he says nothing. I don’t want him coming over and ruining my game. I need to focus and concentrate. If he’s around, it’ll only distract me.
The balls are racked up and the wooden triangle is removed when Gunner mocks, “Ladies first.”
I nod my head and walk to the opposite end of the table. The white cue ball is placed exactly where I want it when I draw my arm back and snap the ball with the stick. Balls scatter everywhere and I sink two solids into the pocket.
Shot after shot, my competitor and I take our turns knocking the balls off the table. At first, Gunner is cocky and gloating, claiming I have beginner’s luck. By the end of the game, he starts to take me seriously because I only have the eight ball left whereas he has three stripes left on the table.
Jake manages to make his way over to the table and sits in the corner, scrutinizing my game. He never says a word. Just as he is when he plays his game, though, the deep look of concentration is all over his face.
I walk to the pocket opposite of where I’m standing and tap my stick. “Corner pocket.” I walk back around, fold myself over the table, carefully line up my shot, draw back my arm and crack. The ball plummets hard into the pocket and I’m three hundred dollars richer. I let out a girly squeal and see Jake coming toward me.
“Yeah! That was some kick ass table action, D,” Jake shouts then picks me up in a congratulatory hug. “It was fucking awesome!”
I hug him back and reach out to grab the cash from the table when my contender slaps his hand over mine, refusing to let me grab the cash. The sting of his contact reddens my skin.
“You know him?” Gunner asks, nodding his head toward Jake.
Pulling my hand away from his, I snap back, “Yes, but tell me why that’s any of your business?”
Jake immediate switches into protection mode, pulling me behind his body. I look around for Jeremy, but he’s gone. Where in the Sam-hell is he? This guy isn’t as tall as Jake, but his muscles are huge. He’s built like a wrestler, and I’m guessing he knows how to fight, considering the scars on his face.
“Give her the money, Gunner.”
Gunner looks at Jake with murder in his eyes and I’m suddenly fearing for Jake’s life. This guy is going to kill him. “Is this the game you’re playing now, Evans? Sending your whores in to do the dirty work?” Gunner steps closer to Jake, making very little room between them. I know what’s coming next; Jake is going to punch him in the face and probably end up in the hospital. “All these other bastards are afraid of you Evans boys, but I’m not. I’ll take you any day of the week.”
There’s the challenge. This is going to be bad. As I grab a hold of Jake’s arm, his skin is slick with sweat and his biceps are stone. “Come on, Jake. This was my idea; let’s just go. He’s not worth it. I don’t care about the money. Let’s just leave, okay?”
We stand there another agonizing minute while Jake contemplates what he’s about to do. It’s a hard enough task when Jake’s sober to get him to realize what he’s about to do, but when he’s drunk, it’s a whole other beast to battle.
My words are not getting through to him, so I move to his side and put my hand inside his then squeeze. He looks down at our joined hands and back to my eyes. I nod to the front door and Jake reluctantly starts to move away from Gunner.
I don’t let go of his hand. I hold it tight while I grab my stuff off the table and we walk toward the door. When we finally make it out of the entrance, stepping on the street, the air is warm, but still sends a chill down my spine when I hear Gunner’s big mouth.
He’s standing on the sidewalk with three other guys. Panic grows and the tears begin to cake my eyes. Oh, my God. This is really bad. What the hell did I do? Jake turns around and faces all four men. Jeremy is still gone. I scramble to get my phone out of my pocket when Jakes goes charging toward Gunner and his cronies.
What do I do?
I watch as Gunner puts Jake in a hold, pinning his arms behind his back while the other men take turns punching his flesh.
I run over to them, not sure what I’m doing when I scream, “STOP!” Then put myself between Jake and the three huge guys. “Please stop! Jake didn’t know I could play pool like that. This was not his idea; it was mine.” The three men look at me, giving me a devilish smile, and soon I’m being snatched up in one of their arms.
“He’s not getting anything he doesn’t deserve. He’s been robbing us clean for years, doll face. Believe me, this is long overdue,” Gunner says while readjusting Jake’s arms behind his back.
Jake leans forward, spitting blood out of his mouth then replies, “Now, don’t give me all the credit, Gunner. It takes a certain level of stupidity to get hustled by the same person for all those years in a row.”
Sweet baby Jesus, Jake’s a dead man.
Jake
Gunner’s got my arms pinned behind my back, causing my shoulders to ache with pain. The blood running from my mouth tastes like shit and all the blows to the gut are making me want to puke. Then, one of Gunner’s brothers grabs Delilah. Her eyes are scared and looking to me to help her.
All the pain in my body evaporates as the adrenaline escalates. Stupid move, asshole. I say something smart to get Gunner’s attention back on me, and just as he repositions his grip again, I strike.
Ramming my head back, I clock Gunner in the nose, busting it immediately. He lets go of his grip, holding his nose, and I swing my fist into the side of his face. Delilah screams as she is tossed to the ground and Gunner’s three brothers begin to charge. I quickly move into defense, ducking punches and returning them in full force.
Every single time I get into a fight, I think of my brother Reggie. He’s spent hours when we were younger working with us, training us to fight, and he’s always said that if we are getting in the hustling game, then we better be damn good at protecting ourselves. Reggie is an expert fighter; he only went pro for a short while, but he left his mark when he was there. We are all pretty badass fighters; however Reggie is a god when he’s challenged.
Gunner is still down on the ground along with two of his other brothers. They may be big as hell, but they don’t know how to fight. There’s only one brother left and I’m ready to lay him flat when the sound of sirens comes out of nowhere. Cars round the corner just as I lay my last punch.
Police officers draw their guns and force me to the ground. My face is planted in the concrete as one of them has their fat knee in the back of my neck. Cuffs are tightly placed around my wrists then they pick me up and put me in the back of a cruiser.
I don’t know what she’s saying, but I can tell Delilah is begging with them to let me go. The tears are streaming down her face and it pisses me off it’s her first night in town and it’s turned out disastrously. Where the fuck is Jeremy? He’s always bailing lately, slinking off to be with Ronnie. I’m going to beat his ass when I get out of jail.
***
I’m only in jail for the night before Tom Willington, Reggie’s attorney, escorts me out. Delilah has given a statement to officers and has told them exactly what happened. Gunner and his brothers did not press any charges against me, knowing they would have to admit I kicked all of their asses, so they decide to let me go and only charge me with public intoxication instead of assault.
It’s been a long fucking night and all I want to do is shower and sleep.
Delilah is waiting outside in her rental car when I step from the building. Crossing the street, I walk over
to her and see the concern in her eyes. She looks beautiful today, like every other day. Her blonde hair is braided behind her head and her tits look perfect in her solid white t-shirt that fits tightly to her body.
I get my act together when I make it to her car and smile. “Hey, D, thanks for picking me up. I thought I would have to walk home.”
She nods quickly and I get into the passenger seat then roll down the window. We don’t say anything on the way home. She must be pissed off or completely offended her best friend was in jail. Little does she know, I’ve been arrested twice before. I do some stupid shit when I’m drunk.
We pull into the driveway then shuffle our way into the house. I stop immediately and crack a can of Mountain Dew. My throat is so dry and the stale whiskey taste in my mouth is disgusting.
“I’m going to take a shower. I feel pretty gross.” Walking my way back to the bathroom, I hear Delilah whisper okay.
I shut the door and quickly get my shower taken and teeth brushed. It’s amazing what a hot shower can do to make you feel ten times better. Now I don’t smell like a homeless guy’s ass crack, and I feel more human.
Delilah is sitting in the living room, watching TV, when I make my way down the hall. She looks over at me and gets embarrassed, probably because I just have a towel around my waist. What is your innocent mind thinking of? I smirk at her and get an eye roll in return.
“Come here,” I instruct and she gets off the couch, walking toward me. I drop my clothes to the floor and open my arms, inviting her in for a hug, which she accepts, wrapping her arms around my waist and nestling her head into my chest.
My body is a little sore from last night, but nothing I can’t handle. Usually I feel worse when I spar with Reggie. He never takes it easy on any of us.
“I’m so sorry, Jake.” A tear falls onto my skin, igniting a feeling that’s been dormant; now all I want to do is kiss her. “I should’ve never hustled that guy. I just wanted to show you I’ve been working on my game.”
I lift her chin so I can look at her eyes. “Hey, none of this crying shit. You were fucking amazing last night and I’m more than impressed.” She smiles and wipes the tears away with the back of her hand. “You kicking Gunner’s ass just proves I’m an amazing teacher. I think I deserve a medal right now. You know how much you sucked at first—well, with my expertise, I proved how amazing I really am.”
I want the sadness to be gone, forgotten. What happened last night is really no big deal. I’ve been in fights before and arrested, so it really doesn’t matter.
The only thing that really mattered last night was the guy who put his hands on Delilah. That was inexcusable and he needed to be taught a lesson.
Delilah slaps me in the chest. “Oh, thank God. I was wondering when the chauvinistic Jake was coming back.” She moves away from my grip and walks down the hall, toward her room. “You never seem to disappoint, letting him roam free.”
“I aim to please, cupcake. I’m off to bed. Be ready at eight o’clock,” I say, rounding the corner into the kitchen.
“For what?”
I poke my head out the doorway of the kitchen, making eye contact with Delilah who’s now down the hall. “Races, woman!”
When a smile lights up her face, I walk down to my room and pass out with the same huge grin on my face.
Chapter 10
Jake
It’s eight thirty and Jeremy is nowhere to be found. I’ve called his cell phone nonstop for the last fifteen minutes and it keeps sending me to voicemail. He’s never late for a race. Not once have I waited on him to be ready. This is his passion; he would never jeopardize what he’s accomplished for something stupid. Now, though, I’m not so sure.
Jeremy texted me this afternoon, saying he was with Ronnie and to take the Challenger up to Old Miller’s Road by eight and he’d meet us up there.
Thirty fucking minutes later, Jeremy is nowhere and my aggravation toward him skyrockets.
He’s been absent more than he’s been around, always tagging along with Ronnie. God only knows what they do. When I try to talk to him about it, he brushes it off and tells me to chill out. I hardly know he’s around now because, when he’s home, Jeremy is in the garage or texting on his cell phone. He doesn’t talk to me anymore.
Delilah and I stand next to the starting line. Then, nine o’clock rolls around and the competitor is getting impatient with us.
“Is he answering his phone?” Delilah whispers in my ear and I shake my head no.
Mike, Ronnie’s cousin, walks over and shows me a text he just got from Ronnie.
Ronnie: Caught up with Jeremy. Take the bets and tell Jake to race instead.
What the hell? What could he possibly be doing that would take precedence over racing? I turn to Delilah and tell her what the text message has said. Then we break the news to the competition.
Noah Sparks is known on the racing scene and is pretty decent. We’ve raced him before, always coming out on top. He drives a Chevelle, similar to Drake’s with a 426 V8 engine under the hood. A lot more muscle than Drake’s Chevelle.
“Fuck, no!” Noah shouts. “A deal’s a deal. If Jeremy can’t race, then he automatically forfeits, declaring me the winner.”
“Come on, Noah. It’s not like you don’t know what you’re up against. We raced last summer, remember?” I say, trying to get him riled up enough to accept the bet. I’m gonna kill Jeremy the minute I see him. “Stop being such a fucking pussy. It’s not like you don’t know how the car handles. How different can it be if I’m driving instead of Jeremy?” It actually makes a big damn difference because Jeremy can drive anything with wheels. I’m pretty good, but my brother is fucking amazing.
Delilah moves to my side and crosses her arms over her chest. Last summer, she was much more guarded, always looking over her shoulder, but now, I can tell she’s more comfortable in Sulfur Heights. I think she likes the potential danger in all of this.
“Okay, I will race on one condition,” Noah says, moving in closer to us. “The race will continue as normal, but she has to drive.”
“Me?” Delilah gestures to herself and lights up with excitement.
“No way in hell, Noah!” I snap back. The only type of cars Delilah has driven are luxury cars and that stupid Mini Cooper; there’s no way in hell she can handle a car with this kind of muscle.
“You said it yourself, Jake. It shouldn’t matter if Jeremy isn’t driving.” With that arrogant smirk on his face, I immediately want to deck him between the eyes.
Delilah pulls me away from the car so we can talk privately. “Jake, I can do this.”
“No, you can’t,” I whisper back. “He’s really good and you’ve never driven a car with this much power. They handle way differently than your stupid piece of shit rentals or Mini Cooper.”
Annoyed, Delilah rolls her eyes and gets into my face just to make her point. “Have you ever seen me drive? I mean, really drive?” I shake my head no. “Then let’s do it. Think of all the money we could make. No one will bet on me. I’m just a spoiled, rich princess, remember?” Holy hell, I think she just hustled me. What have I created?
When Delilah moves away from me and walks over to Noah, she’s swinging her hips, walking seductively toward him. I’m pissed immediately.
Then she begins to turn on her southern girl charm, flirting with him. “Okay, sugar. I’ll race.”
Mike shouts the news to the growing crowd, causing everyone to scurry and put their money in on the bet—against Delilah no doubt. I give him my money, betting on Delilah and get into my designated seat. Delilah is behind the wheel, white a ghost.
“Turn the engine on and rev it up.” She does as I ask, but barely touches the gas. “Come on, cupcake. I said rev the motor! Push your damn foot on the accelerator and make it roar!” She glares over at me and slams her foot on the gas pedal. Good.
“Jake, I’m really nervous now. I’m not sure I can—”
“Shut up. Your damn mouth got us into this me
ss, now you’re going to get us out,” I snap back, purposely pissing her off so she will focus on anything other than what she’s actually about to do.
“Don’t tell me to shut up!” Her eyes are set to kill as glares fly in my direction. Good, now she’s pissed. This is the right frame of mind that will make the slim chance of winning successful.
“Don’t do anything or say anything, got it? Listen to exactly what I’m saying and do exactly what I say when I say it! Do you understand?” I hold her chin, turning her head toward me and say, “You’ve got to trust me.”
This is the most dangerous stunt we’ve done thus far; with one wrong move, we could get killed. Driving one hundred mph down a straightaway isn’t for the faint hearted. It takes total concentration, balls of steel and absolute trust in your machine. Delilah needs to get acquainted real fast with the Challenger and find her balls because we’re about to do this.
I grab her hand, intensity burning from my skin and seriousness pouring from my eyes. “Look at me.” When her blue eyes reconnect with mine, we are suspended in a moment in time, hanging on only by the connection our eyes make. “You can do this. Do you hear me?” I take her hand in mine. “Repeat what I just said.”
Delilah doesn’t break my gaze, her eyes only grip harder to mine. “I can do this.” She squeezes my hand. “I trust you, Jake.”
I smile in return, knowing how good it feels to have her trust. The trust of someone who knows that whatever you do, they will believe in you and the words you say.
“Good. Now let’s make this grown man piss in his pants.” She gives me a giggle and then nods to Noah.
Here goes nothing.
Delilah
I exhale a deep breath and glue my eyes to the woman starting the race. Jake pops in Thin Lizzy and we wait silently until arms go flying. Game time.
I slam on the accelerator and feel the power of the Challenger vibrating in my seat. The car feels faster now that I’m actually behind the wheel.
Jake is as cool as anyone could be. “You’re doing good, D. Noah likes to ride close. Just ignore him; keep focused on the road.”
Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) Page 11