by S. Nelson
Listen, Kena, what happened last night was a mistake. It should have never happened. I found it odd he chose to sign to me instead of speak, but I had no time to wonder before I saw his expression change, appearing resolute and void of any feeling. As if I’d just been another notch on his bedpost, which I knew in my heart wasn’t the case. Although he was making a strong case to prove otherwise.
Why would you say that?
He didn’t answer, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, averting his eyes from mine every few seconds.
When I signed again, he stared at my hands, avoiding my face at all costs. Until he couldn’t.
Stop being a coward, Jagger, and tell me what’s going on. Tensed moments pinged between us, my heart beating so fast I feared it’d burst from my chest.
Did you use me? Did you just want to get me into bed? Was that your main goal? I lowered my arms to my sides and fisted my hands. My nails bit into my palms and I welcomed the sting of pain.
Would you hate me if I said yes?
Inhaling a ragged breath, I took a step back, my backside bumping into the chair behind me. My lips parted, as if I’d wanted to speak, but I knew that was just stupid. I didn’t want to show him how hurt I was but I couldn’t help my body’s reaction, my heart breaking in two at the thought that the guy standing in front of me was nothing like I’d thought. I didn’t know this Jagger. I hated this version of him, making me ache inside so badly I wanted to crumble to the floor and weep uncontrollably.
Instead, I held back the tears and answered. Yes. I would. For as much as I tried to convince myself that my answer had been truthful, I knew it was a lie. I wanted to hate him, to despise him for hurting me, but I knew I loved him. Even though we’d only known each other a short time, my feelings would seem silly to anyone else, but they were real to me.
And I told him my secret before I could stop myself.
But I love you, I signed, finally allowing the first of many tears to escape. I detested my vulnerability, but I couldn’t shield it any longer.
His sharp intake of air told me I’d managed to shock him. Then again, if he’d only chased me because he wanted to get me into bed, I was sure telling him I loved him was the last thing he expected from me.
But didn’t he know?
Couldn’t he feel it in my kisses?
Couldn’t he see it written all over my face when I looked at him?
Didn’t he feel it last night when I gave myself to him?
Apparently not.
I’d been the biggest fool.
You don’t love me, he replied, running his hands through his hair, his eyes appearing glassy . . . until they didn’t. I’m not the guy for you, and I’m sorry if I led you to believe that I was. We had fun, but I don’t wanna see you anymore. I’m sorry, he said, dropping his hands.
I don’t believe you. Tell me, I demanded. I want to hear you speak those words out loud.
Shaking his head, he turned his back to me before reaching for the door handle.
I couldn’t shout at him to turn around and look at me.
I couldn’t yell at him, demand he take back his soul-wrenching words.
The only thing I could do was watch him disappear as the front door closed behind him.
Jagger
Consuming a lot of alcohol was the only way I could stop the pain, my heart feeling as if it had literally splintered in half. Two weeks had passed since I’d lied to Kena, and each day it only got worse.
She’d called me out, saw the weakness splayed all over my body when I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore. She knew damn well I wouldn’t be able to speak those wretched words out loud, so I had chosen to sign them instead.
The ache in my chest blossomed rapidly, making it difficult to breathe, the slow burn of whiskey dulling it only moderately. Hunching over the bar at The Underground, I embraced the liquor, not paying much attention to anyone around me. Until I had no choice.
A strong hand gripped my neck, and because I’d invited the drink to soothe me, my reaction was nothing less than . . . well, immobile. Trying to raise my head, the weight of my world too heavy to accommodate such a simple action, it fell forward before I could stop it, the hard wood of the ledge catching it instead of my hands.
“Fuuuuuck,” I moaned, rubbing the affected area with fingers that felt like lead. Even the slow rise of my arm should have screamed I’d had enough to drink, but since I could still somewhat form a thought, I knew I wasn’t done yet.
“You’re a fuckin’ mess, brother,” Ryder growled from behind me, releasing my neck before settling in the seat next to me. He didn’t say anything for a moment, or maybe he had and I hadn’t heard him, too lost to the numbness finally encasing the tortured parts that remained.
“I got . . . got this,” I mumbled, bringing the shot glass to my lips and tipping my head back, the motion throwing my entire body backward. Thank God Ryder had been there to catch me; otherwise, I’d have been lying on my back, hopefully knocked the fuck out.
Barlow approached, giving me a once-over before shaking his head. “How did you get that, Jagger?” Before allowing me to answer, he turned his attention to Ryder. “I cut him off two drinks ago, but apparently the slick little fucker still managed to snag some more.” A harsh crack of his cleanup towel hit my neck, the sting just what I needed to push myself back into reality, albeit slowly.
“Ow! What the fuck, Barlow?”
“That’s for not listening to me,” he yelled over his shoulder, already walking toward the other end of the bar.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Ryder confirmed, “but before I drop your ass off at home, I wanna know why you cut her loose.” From my peripheral I saw him lean forward and rest his forearms on the bar. Although he hadn’t been looking at me, it didn’t mean he didn’t expect me to answer.
I played dumb, however.
“Who?”
“You know damn well who. Braylen’s been calling me, screaming at me as if that shit was my fuckin’ fault.”
Wincing, I could only imagine what Kena’s sister had said to him. She was one ballsy, speak-her-mind kind of chick. But her desire to protect Kena made me smile. Well, not smile, but glad she had someone willing to call the likes of Ryder and bitch him out for something he had no hand in. No doubt she’d left me some nasty voice mails as well. Only I’d been too consistently wasted to even bother to check.
Barlow walked back in our direction, placing a tall glass of water in front of me. “Drink it,” he demanded, stepping away before I could argue.
“Hey, gimme a shot,” Ryder yelled. “You know what I want.”
“Fuck no,” Barlow shouted back, flipping that damn towel over his shoulder before busying himself with pouring a beer. Ryder opened his mouth to protest, but the bartender cut him off. “There’s no way I’m serving you hard liquor, Ryder. I actually like you.”
Thankful I had something else to pull my focus, I glanced back and forth between them, curious who’d win out. The two men were pretty much even in height, weight and muscle. The only difference being that Barlow had a shaved head covered in tattoos, his appearance giving him slightly more of a menacing edge.
“What the hell does that mean?” Ryder adjusted himself, one foot planted firmly on the ground while the other rested on the rung of the barstool.
“I don’t want to have to call in reinforcements to beat the shit outta ya once you get out of hand.” Advancing toward us again, he slid the beer toward Ryder, smirking before turning his back.
“Fuck you.”
“You’re welcome,” Barlow responded, completely ignoring us for the next fifteen minutes.
I expected Ryder to press me for answers, but instead he let me wallow in my self-pity. Because Barlow wouldn’t serve me anymore and I had my own personal watchdog hovering over me, I couldn’t even lean over the bar when the bartender wasn’t looking and snag a bottle, the one I’d taken earlier resting at my feet. Empty.
But the sile
nce was short-lived, Ryder bumping my arm with his before he began his interrogation. “So, why did ya do it? I thought you really liked this one,” he goaded, forcing me to talk, although he wouldn’t like my response.
“Mind your business. I’m not sittin’ here spillin’ like some sort of bitch,” I slurred, my head lolling from side to side, the room spinning so fast I had to close my eyes to make it stop. Only my lack of sight made it worse.
“It became my business when you dragged me into it, fucker.” The bass in his voice dropped threateningly low.
“I don’t wanna be with her,” I lied, tapping the bar to get Barlow’s attention, even though I knew he was simply gonna ignore me.
“Why?”
“Let it go,” I shouted, pounding my fist against the wood that time.
“No, I won’t. Not until you give me a good reason, one I can tell Braylen when she no doubt shows up at my fuckin’ place. Again.”
Snagging the opportunity to switch the subject, I dove right in. “She been to your place? So, what . . . You datin’ her?” I grinned, my smile no doubt lopsided as all hell. Taking a few gulps of water, some of it dripping down my chin, I patiently waited to see if he’d take the bait.
Sadly, he didn’t.
“We’re not talkin’ about me. Now, if you don’t give me a reason why you’re not seeing Kena anymore, I’m gonna drag your ass back to her house, drunk or not, and leave you there.”
My heart sped up, fear he’d actually do that making me sit up as straight as I could manage. “I’m not good enough,” I finally revealed. “She’s in too much danger bein’ with me.” Gripping my hair, I said, “You saw what happened to Edana, man. I’d die if they ever got their hands on Kena.” It was the absolute truth. If something bad ever happened to her because of me, I had no idea how I’d go on afterward.
“You can’t stop livin’ because you think somethin’ bad might happen. If that was the case, no one would ever get with anyone.” Pushing out a breath, he continued. “You think Marek doesn’t worry about Sully every minute of the day, especially knowing Psych’s plannin’ on coming for her? Or that Stone isn’t sick with worry every time Adelaide and Riley are out of his sight?”
“What about Braylen?”
“What about her?”
“Don’t you worry she’ll get hurt?”
“Nope.” Swallowing half his beer in a few gulps, the glass clanked against the bar when he put it down. “Besides, we’re just fuckin’. And ain’t no bastards gonna stop me from gettin’ my dick wet.” He spewed his nonchalant words my way, but I saw the hesitation on his face. Braylen meant more to him than just someone to stick his dick in. But I decided not to call him out on it, although I should have because then it would’ve diverted the conversation. I was too drunk to mentally play games with him, though, his sobriety no doubt giving him the advantage.
So I settled on a dismissive approach. “Whatever.”
Finishing off the rest of his beer, he stood and reached for my upper arm, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go.”
I tried to shrug him off but it was futile. “Where we goin’?”
“You’re gonna fix this. If not for yourself, then for me, ’cause I’m tired of hearing Braylen’s shit.” Effortlessly pulling me toward the exit, he added, “I can think of better things to occupy her mouth.” He laughed at his own joke, continuing to force me outside and into his vehicle.
Realizing fighting him was useless, I tried to convince him I was too far gone, using my inebriation as the perfect excuse. “I’m too goddamn drunk to see her.”
“That you are,” he agreed, kicking over the engine and throwing it into gear. “I’m gonna get you some coffee. And Jagger?” I turned toward him. “If you puke in my truck, I’m gonna kill ya.”
“Then stop drivin’ like an asshole.”
“I’m only goin’ five miles an hour,” he retorted, shaking his head. A few miles down the road he stopped at a drive-thru, ordering two large coffees. Black. Handing me the first one, he jerked his head at me. “Drink it.”
Knowing I’d see Kena sooner rather than later, I didn’t argue, bringing the hot liquid to my mouth, burning my tongue at first contact. But I soldiered on, needing to be somewhat sober when I finally laid eyes on her.
Ten minutes passed without either of us speaking, the tension between us faltering some. “How do you know she’s even home?”
“I already checked with Braylen.” That’s all he said, keeping his focus on the road ahead.
Settling further into my seat, my alcohol-induced haze lessening with each fleeting mile, my brain formed many questions.
Did she know I was on my way?
Did she even want to see me?
Would I give in and beg her for another chance?
Would she forgive me?
I guess I’ll have answers soon enough.
Kena
Braylen had been acting extremely weird for the past couple hours, looking out the window every once in a while. When I asked her why, she’d waved her hand at me and shrugged, not giving me a definitive answer.
Every day over the past two weeks crawled by, each passing second consumed with thoughts of Jagger. I knew I should have never been involved with him, fearing my sister’s warning would eventually come true. That he’d break my heart.
And it was exactly what he’d done.
Although, I felt much worse than I ever thought I would. With Jagger, I pictured us making it for the long haul, envisioning us moving in together someday and forging a future.
I was old enough to know that not everything would be perfect, but I wanted to explore the next chapter of my life with him. Unfortunately, the first time I laid my heart on the line it’d been sliced from my chest and crushed under the weight of his rejection.
I’d chosen Jagger to give myself to, and he’d taken advantage of my vulnerability.
The thought that he’d only chosen me because I presented as a challenge enraged me. Did he laugh at me with his buddies? Brag about getting into the mute girl’s pants? Anger washed over the hurt when I’d allow myself to fully contemplate what had happened between us, coming to grips with the fact Jagger was a bastard, feeding on my innocence any way he saw fit.
Braylen backed away from the window, mumbled something to herself and walked toward the front door. Glancing at the clock on the wall above the television, I saw it was closing in on eleven, the later hour nudging me to let out a full yawn.
When she looked in my direction, I signed, I’m going to bed. I’m tired.
A knock rapped on the door, drawing my attention right away. “Don’t be mad at me, but for as much as I want to punch Jagger in the face right now for hurting you, I know he truly cares about you.” I rose from the couch and took a step toward the hallway. She held her hands up in front of her as a sign of surrender. “I know. I know. I can’t believe I’m even asking you to give him a chance to explain why he did what he did, but trust me. There’s something more he’s not telling you. Ryder texted me before and told me he’s been miserable for the past two weeks, drinking himself silly just to get through it.”
I didn’t want to hear any more of what she had to say. Taking another tentative step away from her, the pounding on the door broke the building tension between my older sister and me. How dare she do this? How dare she make me face the one person who crushed my entire world? At first I thought I was being a bit overdramatic, but try telling that to my heart, to the sadness embedded in my brain every time I thought about him.
But although I hated that he’d destroyed me, I couldn’t just stop loving him.
Is that him? I knew the answer before she responded.
“Yes. Ryder’s out there with him. He had to sober Jagger up before he got here.”
So it wasn’t even Jagger’s idea to come over, then? It was yours and Ryder’s? That’s even more humiliating.
Never mind that I felt like shit, I looked like it too. My hair was pulled back into a messy
up-do, not having washed it in five days. I wore a yellow cami and wrinkled pajama bottoms, not caring that they hadn’t been cleaned in as much time either.
Braylen moved toward the front door, her fingers circling around the handle, ready to welcome the two of them into our house.
Don’t you dare, I warned.
“I hate seeing you like this, and if there is anything I can do to help . . . I’m gonna do it.” On her last word, she flung open the door, stepping to the side as Ryder entered first. Jagger followed behind, making sure to stay near the entryway. Smart move, I thought.
I could have strangled Braylen right then. She’d been all over the place when it came to Jagger and me. First she liked him. Then she couldn’t stand him. Then she liked him again. Come on, woman, make up your mind already.
“We’re gonna give you some privacy,” Ryder announced, seizing my sister’s hand and pulling her from the house, her astonishment heard all the way to his truck, complaining she wasn’t even dressed. But somehow I thought he wouldn’t have a problem with the lack of clothing she wore, an oversized T-shirt the only thing covering her decency.
A rumble of the engine and a slight squeal of tires told me they’d really left me alone with Jagger. And while I was infuriated, my eyes couldn’t stop drinking him in. I thought I looked bad, but it was nothing compared to him. His hair was a mess, and a faint shadow of a beard prickled his jawline. He looked tired, haggard even. Faint lines were etched into his face, accentuating his hollowed appearance. While he looked a little worse for wear, he was still the most handsome guy I’d ever seen.
But I couldn’t think like that. No way would I allow him to affect me like he had before he broke my heart. I couldn’t take it if he said something endearing or begged for my forgiveness. Because I just might crumble and give in, opening myself up for a bigger disaster down the road.
He continued to stand near the door, his eyes following my every movement. Knowing he wouldn’t leave until I broached the topic of him being there, I took a step closer. I held steady, glaring at him to try and mask my true feelings.