Infraction (Players Game Book 2)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I squeezed my eyes closed as memories washed over me—of an empty stomach, the sound of fighting, violence too horrible for a little girl to witness on a daily basis. I used to watch Jax’s TV programs by sitting on my windowsill and spying into his room, since I wasn’t allowed to watch what I wanted. I hated it when it rained because the blinds were pulled. Then one day, even though it was raining, they kept the blinds open, and even though I was drenched, I sat there.

  That was the same day Jax invited me over to play even though I was only five to his fifteen.

  I was so desperate for any sort of attention that I jumped at the chance to spend time with anyone who would listen to me.

  Luckily, it was Jax, basically the nicest, most gold-hearted male in the world, next to my dad, my adopted dad.

  So when I came over that first day, I was surprised to see the table set for dinner, and I had a spot, they always made sure I had a spot.

  I sniffled.

  “You’re the same now as you were then, honey,” Dad murmured. “You need . . . to feel, to be touched, held.” He kissed the top of my head. “And that’s okay, you know. That’s okay to want to be . . . treasured.”

  My dad and I didn’t have conversations like this.

  We had similar personalities in that we used sarcasm to shield our feelings, which meant only one thing, this was one of those talks, the ones you have with people you love before it’s too late. I’ve never wanted to run so bad in my entire life.

  “I know, Dad,” I finally squeaked out.

  “He good to you?”

  I nodded and then answered, “Yes.”

  “He watches you, every movement. His hands aren’t even at his side. He always seems like he’s bracing for impact. I just don’t know if he’s waiting to run in the opposite direction, or into your arms.”

  “Hah!” I playfully pinched my dad’s side. “Wish I knew.”

  “Men are stupid.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I burst out laughing through the tears collecting on my cheeks.

  “Try not to hold it against him, honey.”

  Our laughter faded as my dad released my hand and pulled back so he could look at me. “You are my little girl.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes, to make light of the situation. Instead, I felt myself crumpling, my stomach heaved.

  “You . . .”—Dad tilted my chin toward him—“are the best thing that’s ever happened to this family. Through sickness, through health, come hell or high water, you are the glue. Your brother and mom are going to need you, you’re going to need each other. And honey, it’s okay to need to rely on someone else when you feel like you’re about to break—that’s life. Remember your promise back when you were in the hospital and we didn’t know what was wrong?”

  “To live,” I whispered, “no matter what.”

  “So live.” He shrugged and smiled. “Live well.”

  “What about you?”

  Dad chuckled. “Oh honey, I’m the richest man in the world.” His grin was infectious. “I have your mom, Jax, you, that old goldfish that died a few years back, what was his name?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It was a beta named Todd, and you forgot to feed it.”

  “Right.” He grinned. “Honey, a father never wants to outlive his kids. This”—he took a deep breath—“is the easy part. Living? That will always be the hardest thing you will ever do. It hurts like hell, it’s full of bumps down every road, and you’ll take wrong turns, but it’s a blessing to have the chance to fail in the first place, am I right?”

  I nodded again.

  “Good talk.” He winked. “Now, find out when those cookies will be done, and while you’re at it, you swipe some dough on a medium-sized spoon and bring your dad a big glass of milk.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So basically I have to do your dirty work?”

  He shrugged, grabbed the newspaper, and held it up so I couldn’t see his face. “Well, I’m sick, come on, give a dying man his last wish!”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. Unfair!

  “Saw that.” He sounded bored. “Remember, medium spoon with extra chocolate chips, don’t let me down.”

  I grinned and walked into the kitchen in search for a serving spoon instead, only to find Miller holding my mom in his giant arms.

  Her face was pressed against his chest.

  And he looked pale, like he’d just seen a ghost.

  “I’m so sorry!” Mom hiccupped. “I slipped and I haven’t been sleeping and . . .”

  Miller opened his mouth to speak and gave his head a little shake.

  “Mom?” I called. “Why don’t I finish the cookies? You go hang out with Dad on the couch, maybe lie down a bit?”

  She nodded, wiping at her eyes, and left us in the kitchen.

  “What happened?” I rushed over to Miller, who was braced against the countertop with both of his hands, his giant body still shaking like he was either going to punch something or pass out. “Miller?”

  “Don’t.” He gritted his teeth. “I just need a minute.”

  I didn’t listen, just touched his back, only to have him jerk away from me and run his hands through his hair.

  Finally, he licked his lips and looked at me, his eyes haunted, cold. “I, uh, I have to go.”

  “Okay.” My throat swelled. Sure, run, he was good at that, right? Or was it just pushing people away? Forcing them to be the ones that want to quit on him? “I guess I can have Jax come and grab me later.”

  “I’ll call him.” Miller gave me one last look and left.

  The kitchen suddenly felt too small for the emotions I was feeling, the sadness of my conversation with my dad, the rejection from Miller when I needed touch.

  I clenched my eyes shut.

  All I’d wanted was a hug.

  And for someone to tell me everything was going to be okay.

  That came much later, when my brother found me huddled in my old bedroom, in the corner. It was the same corner I used to sit in when I first came to live with them. I was too afraid to want anything nice, because when you want nice things, when you like them, they can be taken away, right? My biological parents used to tell me that all the time—that nothing was free and if it was given freely it would most likely get taken away.

  I’d been so afraid.

  And I’d thought I was over it.

  It was years ago.

  So why? Why did Miller’s haunted expression suddenly bring me back to that place? Where all I wanted was to be noticed, and instead—I was ignored? A part of me recognized that something was wrong with his expression, but my fragile heart could only concentrate on one thing—he ran.

  Away from me.

  Jax muttered a harsh curse then sat down next to me.

  I put my head on his shoulder.

  He grabbed my hand.

  Silence.

  And touch.

  All I needed.

  And yet, not enough.

  Because I didn’t want my brother—for the first time in my life, I wanted someone else, I wanted more.

  I wanted Miller.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MILLER

  Seconds after calling Jax, I drove my car around the block only to park across the street from her parents’ home. I would be a shit stalker.

  I didn’t even turn off my headlights, just sat in the warm SUV while rain pelted angrily against the windshield. Even nature was mad at me, not that I blamed the rain, or anyone else but myself.

  That was all me.

  Running was all me.

  And I wanted to stay, God, I’d wanted to plant my feet against the ground and tell Kinsey everything was going to be okay.

  I would have been a liar.

  And that’s the part that got me.

  It wasn’t going to be okay.

  At least not for a while.

  It hit me so hard, sucking my breath away so violently that I had trouble breathing—thinking. Her mom tripped, she fell to the floor.

  I g
rabbed her, and had a real, living, breathing flashback of finding my mom down in our kitchen.

  And realization struck a very sensitive nerve in my body.

  It gets better.

  But it takes time.

  And even now, I still had my weak moments. So to sit there and tell Kins everything was going to be just fine, that unicorns and rainbows were going to shit all over her face the minute the funeral was over, that the sun was going to shine again, that one day, she’d look back on this moment and not cry.

  Well, it seemed to be like the most insensitive thing I could do—and I cared for her more than that.

  The porch light turned on.

  Jax walked out with his arm around Kinsey.

  He saw me first.

  His look of disgust wasn’t misplaced. The bastard wanted to stab me with the nearest sharp object, and I wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  Kinsey sucked in a breath, rain dripped down her chin. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.

  My heart clenched, while she pulled her black hoodie tighter against her body. Jax looked between us. Indecision warred across his face.

  And then, Kinsey whispered something in his ear.

  I got out of the car and waited, hands shoved in pockets.

  He walked through me, not even making an effort to walk around me, but literally right into me, causing my body to stumble back a few feet onto the wet grass.

  He got into his car.

  And took off.

  Kinsey didn’t move.

  I was afraid to walk toward her.

  Afraid of what the moment meant.

  Because it was more than her dad.

  More than my mom.

  More than our pasts.

  I was staring at my future.

  And it scared the ever-loving hell out of me.

  Her dark-brown hair looked inky black as it stuck to her smooth neck, the same neck I dreamed about kissing on a daily basis. With her fists clenched at her sides, she took two steps toward me; nostrils flaring, she sized me up. “Why?”

  I licked my lips. “Why what?”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “You mean other than complete cowardice and all-around assholery?”

  She didn’t laugh.

  I wasn’t expecting her to.

  “Because . . .” I gulped, taking a step in her direction. “The minute you walked into that kitchen, I didn’t want to lie. The whole moment reminded me of when I lost my mom, that same sinking feeling, that same despair. And I didn’t want to lie to you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You’ve been lying?”

  “Kins.” I reached for her hands, she let me. They were cold and felt so frail in mine. “It won’t be okay.”

  Her face fell.

  “Look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Fine.” I took a deep breath. “It’s not going to be okay. Not today, not tomorrow, not next week when you watch your dad suffer through good days only to have another bad day. And when—” My voice cracked. “When you go to his funeral, when you watch people talk about him in the past tense, when suddenly your world isn’t as bright, when the ache in your chest deepens until a chasm of pain so severe you can’t breathe becomes the only constant in your life, it won’t be okay. I care about you, I do. More than I should. I want you. More than I should. But I can’t lie to you, Kins. Humans aren’t built for this kind of pain, this . . . brokenness.” My voice caught. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent, to lose someone you love so much you wonder if you’ll ever be the same again, if you’ll ever wake up and feel like yourself. I won’t be that person. I refuse to be just like everyone else, giving you a pat on the hand and saying it’s going to be fine. It’s not fucking fine, Kins. He’s dying. It won’t ever be fine. But . . .” My damn voice wouldn’t stop shaking. “One day—”

  Her eyes finally met mine.

  “One day the sun’s going to be a little brighter, one day, it won’t hurt to walk into that living room anymore. One day, you’ll feel like smiling. And I just . . .” My world tilted. “I just wanted you to know that when that day happens, I’ll be there, standing beside you, smiling right back.”

  She nodded her head as tears mixed with rain, making it impossible to tell if she was sobbing or just softly crying—both broke my heart. “Do you promise?”

  “I swear.” I pulled her into my arms. “No more running.”

  She hugged me so tight it was hard to breathe, and just when I thought she was going to pull back, she reached up on her tiptoes, offering me her mouth.

  I stole a kiss I didn’t deserve.

  From the last girl I should be falling in love with.

  The only one currently capable of breaking my already halfway-broken heart.

  Wisdom dripped from her expression when she pulled back and cupped my face. “You’re wrong.”

  “I am?”

  She nodded. “Because right now . . .” Her hands slid down my chest. “I already feel better.”

  “Because of the freezing rain?” I tried teasing.

  “No,” she whispered. “Because of you.” Her hand rested against my chest like she was trying to feel my heart. “Sometimes, all the heart needs to feel better is a reminder that somewhere else, other hearts are still beating despite being mishandled, broken, abused—sometimes, you just need to experience love in its purest form . . . even if that does sound like the most jackass thing to say.”

  I closed my eyes, resting my hand on hers, letting the rain fall on both of us while we touched.

  And then Kinsey was pulling me toward my car.

  I followed.

  I’d follow her anywhere.

  To hell with running away.

  I wanted to run toward her.

  She opened the door to the back seat and crawled in. I had no choice but to follow, I’d be an idiot to stay in the rain while she was in the warm car.

  Kinsey jerked her wet hoodie over her head and threw it onto the leather seat. Her red lacy bra was the most distracting thing I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  “Kins.” My voice came out like a curse. “We’re literally parked in front of your parents’ house.”

  “Let’s live a little,” she pleaded.

  And because I was done—done running from what this was, because I needed her just as much as she needed me, I pulled her into my lap and kissed the hell out of her.

  I brushed the damp hair away from her face, my tongue skimmed her trembling lips as I slid the straps of her bra down her arms, my hands cupped her small shoulders for a minute while I caught my breath.

  “What?” she whispered.

  Her skin was so smooth, creamy—pale against my mocha hands.

  “You’re perfect.” I ran my fingertips down her arms, drinking in the sight of her straddling me like this wet siren. With a chuckle, I pressed a kiss against her mouth and whispered, “I never stood a fucking chance, did I?”

  “Never.” Her laugh was soft while she worked my jeans until they were halfway hanging down my legs. There was nothing sexy or planned about the moment, and yet I was so hard for her I ached everywhere with this intense need to make her mine—to really make her mine, to make sure that she knew that this was what I wanted for my life, a girl with brown hair, mesmerizing eyes, and the ability to cut a man down without even using her words.

  She shimmied out of her sweats, barely moving an inch as she did so.

  Our gazes locked.

  “No more running.” Her thumbs rubbed against my bottom lip, I drew each in my mouth, taking my time sucking her skin, tasting the rain with my tongue.

  With a powerless sigh, I nodded. “I’ve got you.”

  I leaned my head against her, breathed her in, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the way she simply felt in my arms.

  When I opened my eyes, she was still watching me as she slowly moved onto me and slid her body down mine.

  I urged her on, gripping her hips with
my hands as we both fell into the silent wildness of giving everything we had to each other.

  With a powerless shudder, I slowed her down, my hand slamming against the leather seat to keep from finishing the moment too soon, from taking the control back from her.

  “Miller,” she whimpered.

  I tugged her feet with my hands, pulling her closer then hooking my arms behind her knees to get a better angle.

  Her back arched.

  I kissed between her breasts then steadied her pace before filling her to the hilt and watching her lips part on a moan. “Come on, Kins.”

  “I don’t want it to end,” she whispered as a tear ran down her cheek.

  “Look at me.”

  She opened her tear-filled eyes.

  “This . . .” I moved my hands from her knees back to her hips. “This isn’t normal, Kins. This is everything. You.” My voice hitched. “Are everything to me.”

  With a shudder, she bit into my shoulder.

  Not exactly the response I was expecting.

  And then she moved against me differently.

  And maybe I blacked out.

  Maybe I just hadn’t experienced pleasure like that before in my twenty-two years, but it came so fast I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and meeting her mouth with an open kiss.

  I flicked her tongue with mine, then deepened the kiss as she rocked against me.

  “Miller—”

  I devoured her words with my tongue again, as I felt her tighten around me, clamp down so hard that I couldn’t stop my body from meeting her halfway each time.

  Her release spurred mine, and I hated it.

  Hated that it was over.

  That I couldn’t stay inside her forever.

  That I couldn’t trap her in my back seat and have wild sex—preferably not in front of her parents’ house—all damn night.

  Her head fell against my shoulder. Panting, she slapped me lightly on the chest and giggled. “Good game.”

  It was so unexpected, both my bark of laughter and her teasing, that I couldn’t stop laughing.