Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  I smiled, turning my face to his.

  His gaze found mine and a zap of electricity fired through my system. He quickly looked away.

  “Little secret. I’m not a druggie, never done any of the hard stuff.” The rumors he was a user and seller were rampant in our school. He never once tried to change this notion of him. “And I’ve only smoked pot once and hated it. Not my thing.”

  “Then why do you let people think that?”

  He angled his face to me. Like magnets, our eyes went directly to each other’s. Shame pitted heavy in my stomach as my eyes drifted down to his lips. I wanted them on mine. Colton’s ghost was there, but it didn’t scare me away from Hunter like it should have.

  “Because I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.” His gaze dove deep into mine, holding me hostage.

  “Then why tell me?”

  “With you I suddenly seem to care.” His stare grew more intense, his eyebrows lifting slightly. He raised his hand and grazed my cheek with his knuckles. I flinched. “Who did this?” he whispered. His fingers dropped to my split lip, skating over it gently.

  I felt my lungs lock down. My heart thumping in my ears. “Savannah.” The answer barely came up my throat. “I quit the squad tonight.” Jayme, get up. Go! My back stayed plastered to the wall.

  “Really?” Hunter’s eyebrows curved up.

  I nodded. “No one, including myself, wanted me there. It was time to stop forcing something no longer making me happy. I need to start letting go of my past.”

  The space between his eyes wrinkled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, looking down. “How’s your hand?” He reached over and picked up my fingers, rubbing his thumb over my bruised knuckles.

  “O-kay.” My voice cracked, his touch stealing oxygen from me.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his eyes coming back to mine. “I should have backed you up.”

  Soft light from the window shadowed the side of his face to his mouth, reflecting in his blue eyes. Something I had never seen in them before caught me. Want. Heat flushed over me, tingling my skin. The yearning to lean in, to taste his lips, devoured me, stealing my reflex to breathe.

  “What do you want from me, Jaymerson?”

  “I don—”

  “No.” He cut me off, leaning in. He licked at his bottom lip. “What do you want? Why did you come here?”

  I was entranced by his mouth. “Because I’m an idiot.” He seemed to be getting closer, and my voice went husky. “Because I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

  There was a pause, then his mouth crashed down on mine. It was like lightning zapped through me, sizzling the blood in my veins. The sensation of his lips hungrily moving against mine sent desire through me in a fevered swirl. Yet it was mixed with grief, hate, blame, guilt, and anger. We weren’t so much kissing as consuming each other. Trying to forget our bottomless pain.

  His hands slipped under my jaw to the back of my head, his fingers gripping roughly into my hair, loosening my ponytail. My hair fell down my shoulders, and he tugged me closer with a primal desperation. My lips parted, opening my mouth to him. A low rumble vibrated his chest.

  The furnace in my blood flamed my desire to feel more of this, of him. It consumed me with a wild, ruthless sensation. For once I didn’t analyze the consequences. I simply acted. I pushed forward onto my knees and crawled onto his lap, straddling him. My nails raked through his hair, needing to pull him even closer to me. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging it. The tickle of his scruff rubbed along my jaw.

  He opened my mouth wider, his tongue curling in with a tantalizing flick. One hand stayed in my hair, pressing me closer into him, the other skated over my shoulders, pushing my jacket off my shoulders. I wrenched it off, my mouth never leaving his.

  Once my hands were free, they went to his cheeks and into his hair, anything to bring him nearer. It was like a simmering fire turned on full blast. Every nerve was highly aware of his hands roving over my skin.

  Before tonight I had kissed four boys counting Colton. None of them made me feel like this. I had enjoyed making out with them. A lot. A few times it had almost led to more, but I easily stopped it. Fear always won out.

  Tonight I had no such emotion. Hunter was like nothing I had experienced. The desperation and desire for him was like a monster I couldn’t control—something that took hold of me and burned out any thoughts or apprehension. I wanted him. I let myself be consumed by the need.

  His rough palms moved under my tank top, skating over my sides. Tingles erupted over my skin, and I moaned softly. He was hard against me and it felt amazing. I wanted more. I ground into him, and he sucked in a harsh breath.

  His hands gripped my hips, and he flipped me over on my back, quickly crawling between my legs. His warm mouth found mine with a force. I wrapped my legs around him, wanting him close. Inside.

  My hands yanked at his running shorts, pushing them down. I slipped my fingers under his boxer briefs, drawing him nearer to me. He growled my name and ripped my tank top over my head. With every touch of his hands or lips, my skin became more sensitive, yearning to remove all barriers between us.

  “Hunter,” I whispered in his ear, conveying to him what I desired. I didn’t want to think or be responsible or feel guilty. Being good and afraid ruled the girl before. Now I wanted to feel, to be alive, live the life I almost lost. Drown myself in euphoria, where no pain existed.

  He braced himself on one arm as he tugged at the string of my workout shorts, his mouth never leaving mine. His knuckles brushing so low, my body reacted. I nipped down on his lip, which only enticed his fervor. He yanked harshly at my shorts, inching them over my hips.

  Yes. Now.

  The sound of the door squeaked open. A light suddenly flickered into my eyes, and I flinched, looking away.

  “Shit.” Hunter jerked back. I turned to see a security guard walking into the room, peering around the room with his flashlights.

  Hunter yanked up his shorts as he scrambled to his feet, snatching my top, which lay near him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, shoving my tank top into my arms. It was too late to hide; the man shined his light on us.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Jaymerson Holloway?” My name rang briskly through the holding cell. A woman cop motioned me forward.

  Upon hearing my name, I jumped to my feet. Part of me thought staying here would have been safer. My parents were cool…to a point. Explaining this to them? Not so much.

  “The charges have been dropped. Your father’s here to take you home.”

  There were snickers from some of the “working women” in the corner. I thought when the women saw me, in my little purple cheerleading shorts and tank, they’d descend on me like sharks, but most of them fiddled with their nails or tried to sleep. Two homeless women curled up in the corner reeking of body odor, piss, and alcohol. Fear had kept me primed on the edge of the bench, trying not to touch anyone or make eye contact.

  At eighteen, they said Hunter would be processed as adult, and I didn’t see him once they took our fingerprints, not that he would have given me comfort. He didn’t speak the whole ride over, keeping his focus out the window, or while they stained my fingers with ink. If anything, he seemed to get more and more angry and irritable. His muscles along his shoulders rippled under his shirt every time I moved too close or bumped against him when we got our digits doused in ink.

  The cop unlocked the door and slid it open. I slipped out, following her down the hallway. I spotted Hunter as soon as we entered the main area. He sat across from a balding police officer, shaking his head, his dark hair falling down into his eyes. As if he could sense my gaze on him, he lifted his head and looked over.

  Our eyes caught. He held my gaze for a moment, then frowned. Anger flashed in his eyes, and then he turned away from me.

  I clenched my teeth as I walked past him and tried not to look at him. The cop led me to the waiting area, where my
dad leaped up the moment he saw me.

  “She’s all yours.” The cop nodded and returned to the main station.

  My dad opened his mouth, his arms slightly lifting, like he didn’t know if he wanted to hug me or scream at me. “Oh my god, are you all right?” He clutched my chin, taking in my shiner. His eyes widened as he took in more of my cuts and scrapes. “Did he do this?”

  “No! Of course not!” I stepped from his grip.

  “Is this from your fight with Savannah?” My eyes widened. Wow, Coach didn’t waste any time. Dad clenched his teeth, scanning me. In his silence I could detect the lecture building. Then he opened his mouth.

  “What the hell happened, Jaymerson? Do you know how sick with worry your mom and I were? What we were going through? Do you have any idea how it felt when I got home and you still weren’t there? To hear from Nancy that you left school hours ago. We thought something happened to you.” He shook his head, bellowing at me. “After almost losing you once, do you know what was going through our minds?” He tapped angrily at his head. “Then to get a call from the police to come get our daughter, that you were caught with a boy, not only breaking and entering, but for indecency.”

  Indecency? I still had on my sports bra and shorts. True, it wouldn’t have been long till those things were off, which was why I decided to kept my mouth shut. My dad wasn’t stupid, and it would be worse if I tried to make those kinds of points.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?” He folded his arms.

  “Yes. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

  His two fingers rubbed at his chin. Uh-oh. He was upset.

  “Nancy told us you quit the squad tonight.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it because of him?” Dad held his hand toward the inside of the police station. “Why you are no longer finding interest in things you used to love? Is he the reason you quit?”

  “Are you serious?” I sputtered. “Quitting was my decision. It had nothing to do with Hunter. I no longer enjoyed it. Why can’t it be okay? Why can’t I change without feeling like I am letting everyone down?”

  “Is it that, though?” Dad’s frustration with me echoed in his eyes. “Because it seems since he has become more of a part in your life, the more the things you used to enjoy are falling away.”

  Dad only saw my change as being connected with Hunter. Not the accident, not losing Colton, or me growing up. He was scared of Hunter. In this small town you couldn’t help but know about everyone, especially the Harris twins. One good. One bad.

  “I know you’ve been going through a lot, more than most teenagers should, and it is probably natural to want to bond with someone else who has gone through the same thing. But Hunter?” He looked up, trying to choose his words carefully. “You know what your therapist said about confusing intense emotional situations for true feelings. For you it’s even more so. You tragically lost someone you genuinely cared about, and you share this loss with his twin brother. No one can blame you for getting a little confused.”

  “Confused?”

  “Honey, both your mother and I think you shouldn’t see him anymore.”

  “Not see him? He goes to my school. We have physical therapy together.”

  “At school, I can simply ask you keep your distance. But starting next week, we are moving your therapy to a different time.”

  “What?”

  “It’s for the best. You need a little space and time to get over what happened, to heal, inside and out, and move on. It is almost impossible to do when every day you spend time with him.” Dad motioned to the door where I came out. “Who looks exactly like the boy you recently lost.”

  I looked away, feeling both anger and guilt roll up my shoulders like a sleeping bag.

  “I know you don’t want to listen to me. Hunter is trouble. Dangerous. And will lead you down a bad path.” His eyes flicked around the police waiting room. “You are my little girl, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’ve already suffered enough.” He pulled me into a hug. “I love you, and I want to keep you safe. Forever. Is this too much to ask?”

  “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “You and your sister will always be my little girls, and I will always want to protect you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, let’s go home. Think there’s some chocolate ice cream in the freezer.”

  “Yeah, like Mom will let me have ice cream.”

  He put his arm around me, steering me through the door into the cool night. “Let me handle her.”

  “Really?” I looked at him in shock.

  “Nooo…I’m throwing you to the wolves, grabbing the ice cream and running.”

  “What I figured.”

  As Dad pulled the car out of the lot, I watched the front of the station. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was in there. Alone. I doubted he called his parents; legally he didn’t have to. But I wondered if they would have even come if he did.

  Dad might think the topic of Hunter was finished, but I couldn’t walk away so easily.

  I’d always listened to my parents and did what they asked. I was their good girl. Not because they demanded it of me; it was what I did. Honor roll, check. Cheerleader, check. Did chores unasked, check. Did my homework, watched my sister, never got in trouble: check, check, check. I didn’t even think about rebelling. I never needed to.

  Take this all away and who was I? What did I really want? Now I was staring down an endless road of questions with no clear answers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What is this gibberish you’re sending me, Whiskey? It’s way too early to be cryptic,” Stevie demanded over the phone the next morning.

  I knew this call was coming. I had texted her an enigmatic message about not seeing me at physical therapy anymore. Her call came swiftly after. I didn’t want to talk because I couldn’t get around this without telling her what happened. It would be difficult to admit my protests of hating Hunter had completely changed.

  After my mother’s silent treatment ended in tears, I crawled into bed, my mind going straight to the kiss. Replaying it over and over in my head. The way his lips devoured mine. The hungry way our mouths claimed each other’s. The feel of his fingers skimming over my bare skin, the weight of him between my legs...

  I had a very sleepless night.

  Not all of the restlessness was because of Hunter. I held a lot of guilt for hurting my parents. My mother didn’t talk to me for the first two hours, then after putting Reece to bed, they sat me down.

  After an hour of lecturing, Mom still struggled to look at my black-and-blue face and the ink stains on my fingers. She burst into tears and shut herself in her room. Dad gave me a hug and told me we’d talk more in the morning.

  “What do you mean you’re no longer going to physical therapy?” Stevie exclaimed, bringing me back to the present. Her voice was filled with confusion. She knew I was months away from being done.

  “The Tuesday-Thursday sessions. I’m being moved to Monday-Wednesday.”

  “And why?”

  “Uh…” Words died in my throat.

  “Whisk-ey?” She emphasized my pet name, knowing a story lay behind what I wasn’t saying.

  My cheeks stung as dots of embarrassment peppered my face like freckles. “Um…well…my parents think it is best I’m not around Hunter any longer.”

  There was a lengthy silence. “And again I will ask…why is that?”

  I could have lied and said it was for my mental health. Being around a duplicate of my dead boyfriend was stunting my recovery. To my parents this was true, but I couldn’t lie to Stevie. She was my only friend, and I had no doubt she would either figure it out or hear about our little break-in from the staff.

  “Hunter and I were arrested last night for breaking and entering.”

  Another pregnant pause. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat, please?”

  “Oh, and we were charged for indecency as well.” I couldn’t help the slight impish smile
that formed.

  “Whuu-ttt?”

  “I only had my tank top off so I’m not sure what was so indecent. The security guard was a bit of a prude.”

  “Top. Off?” Stevie repeated slowly. “Holy shit. I knew it! Did I not call this from the moment he walked in?” she demanded. “Now tell me every single detail, especially the indecency part.”

  “Do you want to hear about the brawl between me and my ex-best friend that ended in a fistfight and me quitting the squad before ending up in jail?

  “Oh, holy bejesus,” her throat croaked. “I am so proud of you. My little girl is growing up.”

  “Because I got into a fight and ended up behind bars?”

  “No. Because you are finally being true to yourself. Most people might see this as a cry for help or you having issues. But those people don’t really know you. Jeez, the worst you did was get caught. You are anything but ordinary, Whiskey. You just need to let yourself be okay with it. You have a freak flag, girl. Wave it!”

  Talking to Stevie was like ointment to my soul. Sounded cheesy, but it was true. She was the one person who accepted me the way I was—a mess.

  My mouth weaved around the story, telling her everything that happened. I didn’t hold back or hide any of it, even down to Hunter’s rejection later. And as much as the kiss replayed in my mind with giddy revival, I had many doubts and much guilt. Our attraction was no doubt from the heightened emotions getting the best of us. It would make the most sense. All those complicated feelings needed a way out.

  And it did. Through a kiss.

  Actually, through an incredibly hot make-out session.

  Thanksgiving break was awful. It was still tense around the house, and my grandparents descending on us for Thanksgiving only created more friction. Grandma Nessa criticized everything my mother did, then made little jabs about how tired and skinny I looked, or how willful Reece behaved.

  I felt like dry pasta, ready to snap. But it wasn’t my family which caused me to lose sleep or stop eating. The moment I quit cheerleading, officially ending my friendships, I got attacked. Virally.