I stop in my tracks and spin to face him. “That’s enough of that, Jackson Monroe. There is no way in hell I’d ever take you on a date.” I turn and jerk open the door as an image of Lucas King flashes in my mind. Warmth tinges my cheeks, his face complete with the hateful smirk and piercing eyes. Yeah, right. It’d be a cold day in hell before Lucas and I were anywhere near each other without battle armor on, let alone a date.
How pathetic is my life that the last time I had a date was a year ago? How absurd is it that when I actually think about a date, I think of him?
“Come on, Vee, it’ll be fun. But you have to promise to act like we don’t know each other, except in the car, of course. I know exactly who I’d ask, too.”
I open the driver’s side door to my Nissan Sentra. “Get in the car, and shut your mouth. I do not want to talk about this anymore. It is not happening. Ever.” I drop down into the seat and slam my door shut.
“Yeah,” Jax gets in the car, closes his door, and fastens his seat belt. “I see what you mean. I heard about what happened today.”
I’d been backing out of the driveway when I slam on the brakes so hard, both of our heads jerk forward. “What exactly did you hear?” I glare at him.
“Man, Vee, how could you spill burning hot coffee all over Lucas King? The guy’s like a god or something in town. Everyone’s afraid of him. They say he killed someone,” his tone drops to a whisper, as if someone could hear us in the closed confinement of my used car.
I continue backing into the street and choose to ignore the gossip and the insinuation that I messed up bad. Because I had. “First of all, tell me where your friend lives,” because I do not want to listen to you go on about this another second.
“Make a right on 12th Avenue,” he points.
I nod. “Second of all, Amanda pushed me. On purpose,” I glare at him. He wants the story? Fine, I’ll give him the whole sordid thing.
“Boy,” he lets out a heavy breath, “she must really hate you to ruin your life like that.” The raw truth out of the mouths of babes.
“She did not ruin my life. It wasn’t a big deal,” I snap. Because it can’t be that bad. It was an accident; even Lucas King can’t be that much of an ass not to realize that.
Doubt it.
He shakes his head as he points to a house, a mini mansion behind a row of tall hedges on a huge lot, and I pull into the driveway. “Lucas must have been pissed.”
I slap his arm. “Jax, you will not use that language. And it doesn’t matter, it was an accident.”
“Ow! Why not? You do?” He rubs his arm as he gets out of the car.
“Doesn’t make it right,” I say out the window to his back.
He jogs to the front stoop. Some teeny bopper kid opens the door and they exchange a few words as the kid nods his head eagerly with a shit eating grin on his face. He turns, yells something to whomever is in the house, slams the door shut, then the two of them head back to the car. I want to hide behind the steering wheel because both of them are staring at me talking a mile a minute.
Good grief, if my little brother and his friends know about my humiliation, the whole town must know. I take a deep breath. Not a big deal, things like that happen all the time.
Jax gets in the seat next to mine as his friend gets in the back.
“So, I heard you pissed off Lucas King today?” the little dipshit in the backseat blurts out.
I jab a finger in my brother’s direction. “One more word out of you, young man, you’re grounded for a month.”
“Hey! You can’t ground me because you messed up,” he retorts.
I ignore him as I turn and jab the same finger at his friend. “And you, young man, one more word out of you and I’m telling the whole girls soccer team you piss the bed.” I swing my eyes to Jax. “Both of you.”
Both of their jaws practically hit the floorboard in shock. Good. I’m loving the silence as we drive. Until we get on the bridge to the mainland.
“Yo, dude, your sister is hard core,” his friend finally comes out of the stupor my threat had momentarily put him in. I have to stifle a smirk. “Hey,” he continues. I glance at him through the rearview mirror and give him the stink eye. “Jax says you’re looking for a date. I’ll date ya, especially since no one else will.”
It’s my turn to be shocked. Holy shit, what has my life come to?
Yeah, my life officially sucks.
CHAPTER 3
After the unintended audience, I opted to park the piece of shit car I drive, which I absolutely hate, behind Rosie’s diner. Yeah, it’s a BMW, a very used one, because the whole plastic town drives luxury cars. Someone might think it’s a classic. It is to some geeky fucker who gets a hard-on for cars. To me, it gets me to where I’m going and back.
Sliding the car into an empty space next to a Nissan Sentra with a temporary donut tire on the rear drivers side, I open my car door, but stop when I see the back entrance to the restaurant open. Storm, aka Evie, stomps out with Rosie right behind her. I sit back with my door open a crack to hear what they’re saying.
This ought to be good.
“Rosie, come on! You’ve got to understand, I had a flat tire this morning. My dad was already gone, and I had to change it. I couldn’t help being late, it wasn’t my fault!” I glance to the car I’m parked next to with the little tire on the back.
Bingo. Props to her for being able to change it, got to give her that much. Industrious little hurricane, I’m impressed.
Evie’s voice has a hint of hysteria in it, and if I wasn’t such a prick, I’d feel sorry for her. But I am, so I’m getting some twisted pleasure in her pain. I’ve got an idea how this is going to turn out after yesterday’s episode, but the difference is always in the details.
“Honey,” Rosie’s shaking her head, I can see her double chin jiggling with the movement in the rearview mirror. “I told you yesterday it was your last warning. I like you. A lot. And that’s the problem. The other girls are getting pissy because they think I’m favoring you. You’re smart and trustworthy, but I can’t allow you privileges I’d take the others asses for, no matter how good you are.” I watch as Evie’s shoulders slump in defeat and her head drops down.
Beaten. Just the way I like them.
“I understand,” Evie’s not fighting her. She must respect her for her honesty.
Honorable. Screwed, but still honorable. Sucks to be her.
“Tell you what,” I see Rosie’s big chest rise and fall with a deep breath. “If you’re still looking for a job in a couple of months, come back and talk to me. I need to let the spoiled rotten divas settle down a bit. Hell, school will be out by then and you won’t have to haul your brother back and forth.”
“But I need a job now, I told you, I’ve got this deal with my dad.” Evie’s almost begging. I’m sure that’s out of character for her, so she must trust Rosie. I don’t blame her, everybody does. Rosie’s a single mom who built this business by herself. She’s always kicked ass and taken names later. With the massive attitude I’ve glimpsed in the little hurricane, I doubt she’d show her vulnerability to just anyone.
Again, if I wasn’t a bastard, I’d be touched. Boo fucking hoo.
“I know, Evie, and I’m sorry.” She gives a tilt to her head, I know the expression she’s giving the hurricane, it’s the ‘I told you so’ look. “It was all you, kid.” Rosie lowers her head and shakes it again. “Sounds like a shit ass deal with your dad, if you ask me. But, hey, who am I to judge?”
Evie shakes her head once, her gaze still on the ground. “It’s not. Besides, I suggested it.”
This sounds exceptionally interesting, this deal she made with her District Attorney dad. Shit keeps getting more and more intriguing.
I hear Rosie chuckle. “Knowing you, Evie, I believe it.” That’s when she wraps her pudgy arms around the tiny female, practically swallowing her up. “Don’t beat yourself up. Life’s a bitch sometimes. But you knew that already.” Evie returns the hug, her arms not quite re
aching the circumference of the big woman, but it’s all good. The women separate. “I’ve got to get back in there,” Rosie thumbs toward the door. “And one more thing. Try to avoid Lucas King, especially after yesterday.” I have to hold in a snort of laughter. “He’s not a bad guy, but he’s just got his own agenda, and he plays to win.”
She’s not wrong.
“I’ve heard,” Evie replies, the words coming out long and drawn out.
A smirk lifts the corner of my mouth. Good, you should heed the warning, Storm.
“Alright, kiddo, see you around.”
“Thanks, Rosie.”
What the fuck is wrong with this girl? She just thanked her for firing her.
Rosie goes back inside the restaurant as the screen door slams behind her.
“Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse,” Evie mumbles as she turns to walk toward what I assume is her car beside mine.
This just might be my lucky day. It seems opportunity wanted to throw something in my lap this morning.
I push my car door open and stand. A ripple of thrill slithers up my spine, like a snake waiting to strike. Evie stops short when she sees me, her whole body rigid, mouth wide open in surprise, and that hair of hers a wild mane.
“You should always be prepared for things to get worse, Storm, nobody ever taught you that lesson?” I state smoothly as I close my car door.
I witness the transformation slip over her pretty face, going from the sweet young lady who’d been standing with Rosie, to the tempest that’s preparing to rage. Her face is exceptional, really – devoid of the pounds of makeup the chicks wear who are always available for a dick ride - with her ferocious eyes that tell a story when she looks at you, and plump pink lips. It’s honest and open, and right now completely pissed off. Too bad for her, that shit gets me off.
“You were eavesdropping?” she sneers, her hands now balled into tight fists at her sides.
“Why would you think yourself so important I’d want to eavesdrop on you?” I take a step toward her. “You’re just a waitress in an old diner nobody cares about.” My callous words hit some kind of mark within her, I can tell by her slight flinch from their sting. Twisted satisfaction seeps through my veins at her discomfort. She’s vulnerable, but her strength shoves it away and takes control once again.
I take another step, and she matches it. Step for step, she doesn’t just not back down, but comes right toward me, courageous and ready to battle me. Poor, stupid girl.
With only inches between us, I peer down into her face as the intoxicating scent of her rose shampoo wraps around us, cocooning us in her essence. I stare into her eyes through the lenses of her glasses and watch the tawny specks dance in the sea of green. Her skin is perfect, it looks so soft, I want to reach out a finger and stroke it. Then I want to leave my imprint all over her flesh.
“It seems you’re hearing is as bad as your manners. I’m not a waitress anymore,” she replies tightly.
Her breath smells like bubble gum and cotton candy, and I’d bet she’d taste just as sweet.
“Ah, yes, you couldn’t even keep that job.” She clenches her jaw and her lips thin to an angry line. “Tell me, what can you do right?”
She doesn’t answer, at least not with words. Her eyes are screaming their story at me, and it’s music to my black soul.
“You really should be more careful, Storm, you never know who’ll be lurking in the shadows.” I say quietly. Her eyes widen and her mouth slides open. I watch the glimmer of fear sparkle in her eyes she must have felt that night when she overheard me and that bastard in the alley. That’s good, she needs to hold onto that fear, keep it fresh and new because when it’s gone, that’s when she’s in trouble. I continue as I move a little closer. “Waiting. Watching. Ready for the right moment. You’re careless.”
“It was you,” she whispers as her eyes move back and forth on mine. “You were the one in the alley threatening that man.”
I cock an eyebrow at her and smirk. “Did you see me?”
I watch her swallow nervously. “No.”
“How do you know who was threatening whom?” I smirk at her, eating up her discomfort like some sick, depraved man. Because I am. I had the best teacher.
“Because…,” she stalls with the words right there on the tip of her tongue, so close I bet I could taste them if I sucked that sweet, pink thing into my mouth.
Bad. Evil. Corrupt. I watch her battle with herself, wanting to hurl the insults at me, but unable to utter anything hurtful. Because she’s good, and I am bad, but her purity is so strong, it won’t allow the foulness to taint her goodness.
“Can’t say it, can you?” I mock her, using her purity against her as if it were something to be ashamed of.
Because evil wants to destroy goodness, and I’m going to destroy her.
“No. I can’t,” she states evenly. She’s a strong girl, I’ve got to give her that. Everything about her screams confidence, and I want to smash it, crush it, and leave the wreckage at my feet. “Because I’m not sure, and I would never accuse you of something I’m not certain of, despite how rude you are.”
I inch my face closer, so close I can extend my tongue and lick her lips and maybe get a taste of that cotton candy she smells like. “Oh, but I am. I’m all those things and more. All those words floating around inside that pretty head of yours, I’m all of that, and things you can’t even imagine.”
Because inside this body, behind this attractive face, I’m a monster, hidden beneath false indifference and cool I-don’t-give-a-fuck. It’s all a front, all weapons and tools of the trade. The business is power.
Her eyes are fixed on mine, caught, captive, imprisoned. And I’m never letting her go.
Her breath flutters against my skin with each of her heavy breaths. She’s frightened. She should be.
“But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? You have a problem I hear.” I inch back and give her some space. She blinks now that the spell is broken.
“What are you talking about?”
I retreat a step and turn, giving her my back. “You’re out of a job, and it affects this deal you have with your dear old dad.” I move to the car nearest us, lean my back against it and lift my foot to rest on the wheel, not giving a shit it’s not mine. Or hers.
Her spine straightens in defense. “That’s none of your business.”
“Seems to me it is my business since it was my dick you put on fire yesterday.”
Her face flushes scarlet in embarrassment, and hell, if getting under her skin isn’t going to be a favorite pastime of mine. “It was an accident, someone pushed me.”
“Never,” I pin her with my gaze, “blame someone else for your mistakes. It makes you look irresponsible.”
I can see the anger flash across her face as she opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out, because she hears the truth in my words. The anger, along with the argument, dissipates into thin air as her mouth slowly closes. Her eyes tell me she accepted it, and her body screams she’s not fucking happy.
“Now, tell me about this deal you suggested with pops.”
“Never.”’
I shake my head at her. “Rule number two, Storm: never say anything you don’t mean.”
She snorts out a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh, I mean it. I hate that you even know anything about me.”
I tilt my head at her. “I believe we’ve already established you’re careless. If you don’t want people to know your business, you shouldn’t go around announcing it.” I shrug a shoulder. “Who’s fault is that?”
Her brow furrows as the anger explodes on her expression again. She opens her mouth to give me a piece of her mind and I quirk an eyebrow at her, daring her to try it. She slams it shut, her jaw clenching, and every single word she isn’t uttering, she’s flinging at me with her glare.
“That doesn’t matter right now. The issue at hand is…apparently you need a job.” I watch her, not missing any fleeting emotion that s
he gives me. I eat it up, savor every internal flinch and grimace, steal each emotion she fights to keep hidden and to herself. As she struggles to keep herself concealed, I rip away her defenses and tear her open. She just doesn’t know it. Or maybe she does, I want her to. I want her to know, I want her to feel me taking everything she keeps locked up inside her. When I finish with her, I’m not going to leave anything left. What pretty little Storm does not realize is she’s handing it all to me on a silver platter, and I am going to feast on her.
She draws in a slow, deep breath through her nose, her mouth still clamped shut. “Again, none of your business.”
I dip my head to the side. “But it is. I want you to work for me.” Once more, my eyes latch on to hers, hungry for her fury.
Her eyes fly open as she barks out a laugh. “Not going to happen.”
I shrug seemingly unbothered. “You don’t have a lot of choices.”
“I have tons of choices. I can work at the supermarket…,” she begins counting off on her fingers.
“Making minimum wage.”
I hear her sigh. “I can work for the resort office…”
“Cleaning up after a bunch of self-righteous, over privileged assholes,” the thought itself pisses me off.
Her eyes bounce back and forth from my face to the two fingers she has held up, the list she was going to throw at me quickly evaporating.
“Here’s the offer,” I push off the car I’d been using as my own personal whatever the hell I want. “I need someone I can trust to run errands for me. I’ll give you a hundred bucks for each one,” Her eyes get big and round with disbelief. I look over at the tiny temporary tire she’d put on earlier. Then I kick it.
“Hey!”
I ignore her. “I’ll definitely put new tires on this thing for you.” My gaze meets hers again. “Not for you. For me. I need this…car to be reliable.”
The tempest winds are blowing in her eyes again, swirling up all the reasons why she shouldn’t accept my offer. She wouldn’t be wrong.
“No thanks, Lucas, but I appreciate it.” She makes a move to walk around me, her spine straight and her chin tilted up in the air. She’s stubborn. And a pain in my ass.
The Making Of A King: The King Duet, Book 1 Page 3