Etched in Stone (Six Degrees Series Book 2)

by Statham, Mayra

  Jake holds me through all of it, as every emotion expunges itself from my body through tears and sobs. He holds onto me. He doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t waver. He’s my saving grace. In his own way, for him this is good. Redemption in a way! He can do this for me. Hold me. Let me cry over a man that now, we've both hurt.

  This isn't something Jake wants to be a part of. He doesn’t want to see me falling apart at the seams in front of him, but he never wavers. He doesn’t suggest calling Lucy or the girls to hand me off and for that I am so thankful. Pulling me onto the couch, he holds me close, stroking my hair. He does this like a friend would. Like a brother.

  “It’s going to be okay, babe. It’s going to be okay,” he whispers gruffly and I hold onto his words. It’s all I have to hold on to but I hold on to those words as if they’re oxygen to my lungs.

  I hold on knowing that I have lost Parker, knowing that I could lose my store, knowing that I had to go back to Shine to meet Duke for the weekend it’s... too much.

  So I hold on to those five words he keeps repeating because my life feels too out of control and I do not have anything to hold on to.

  It’s going to be okay.

  It’s going to be okay.

  ***

  Dawn comes too fast. I’m in my room, lying down on my bed. Jake is dead asleep on a chair by the side of my bed, his long legs on the mattress.

  “Jake?” I whisper and he instantly wakes up. Stretching his body, he looks at me, a sad smile on his lips.

  “How are you feeling, babe?” He asks and I don’t cringe at him calling me ‘babe’.

  “Like shit. What time is it?” I ask, grabbing a glass of water and two Motrin that’s on my nightstand that I know he left for me.

  “It’s two,” he says after looking at his watch.

  “Oh.”

  “Sleep, babe,” he says slouching back into the chair. I look at him and instantly feel bad. He hated crying and I’d done nothing but cry the last couple of hours.

  “You’re going to hurt sleeping like that.” I observe.

  “I’m not leaving,” he says adamantly.

  “Fine.” biting my lip not knowing why I suggest it, “You can sleep in the bed with me if you want.”

  “What?” He sits up, his eyes on me.

  “To sleep! The bed is big enough.”

  “Okay,” he says standing up, he kicks off his shoes, unbuttoning the top three buttons of his dress shirt, I turn to give him privacy. I feel the weight of his body make the mattress dip and I turn over to look at him. I’m not interested in Jake, at all, but he had been right about one thing. We had always been better friends than anything else.

  Maybe we could be friends again. He’s been exactly that through my breakdown and dinner the night before, but nothing more. Yet, it didn’t stop me from admiring how handsome he is and it didn’t surprise me that my nineteen year old self would have fallen for him the way she had.

  “Thank you,” I whisper looking at him lying on his back. He has a hand behind his head and his body on top of the comforter. I watch in the semi-darkness as he closes his eyes slowly and he lets my words wash over him, his jaw tense. His eyes squeeze shut, and I know those two small words mean a lot to him.

  Opening them, he moves lying on his side, facing me. His blue-green stare familiar and maybe because it’s familiar, I also find it oddly comforting.

  “I still owe you,” he says into the darkness and I stare at him. My eyes are stinging again with unshed tears. I’m too tired to argue, "Sleep." His voice is gruff.

  I nod and close my eyes trying to ignore the fact that I’m going to have to dance Friday, which is only a couple of days away. I try to forget that Parker is out of my life and that everything I’d worked so hard for could be lost and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Liz

  Things are tense between Tess and me.

  She doesn’t like that I agreed to dance at Belle’s again, even if it’s just for three days. I have agreed to Friday through Sunday. Three measley nights and even then, I understand her. She feels that the judge will keep holding this shit over my head even after. There were no guarantees that he wouldn’t. We’re both doubtful that by just giving up Parker and dancing for a weekend he’d stop this.

  He had me between a rock and a hard place, and even with giving up Parker, he can still threaten me for more if he wanted too. Why he wants me to dance this weekend at Shine, I have no idea. According to the deal he bargained with Belle, if I give up Parker and dance at Shine this weekend, he’d lower the interest rate on our loan and leave us alone.

  I’m afraid he's lying.

  I’m afraid and I’m completely positively sure he’s lying.

  I’m afraid he’s going to push his hand to make me give him what he’s wanted all along. He’s holding all the cards and I’m not stupid. I realize this.

  I woke up this morning to a mug of fresh coffee and Jake sitting on the edge of my bed smiling. Silently, before either of us said a word, he kissed my forehead, moving a loose strand of hair behind my ear and left.

  There hadn’t been a need for words. He knew what it meant to me to have him there last night, and I knew what it meant to be able to give that to me.

  Work has thankfully been busy and I’ve been able to hide in the back and in my own mind. I haven’t heard from Parker, not that I expect too. His words are on replay in my head while I decorate cakes. I stayed late to make sure that things were set for all the cakes that Tess and our other decorator would have to have delivered this weekend to the various scheduled events. Luckily it was only two wedding cakes and a baby shower on Saturday and a bridal shower on Sunday.

  Even with things tense between Tess and me, I’d catch her eyes on me. They are filled with worry. Sometimes when she’d catch me looking at her she’d try to give me a smile. It was a fake one, and the smile that I returned was a fake one too.

  She’s worried for multiple reasons. She’s terrified for me. Don’t get me wrong I know this. But she is also stressed out that I will screw it all up somehow and we’d lose the bakery. In turn it would ruin her life and it would be turned upside down. Some might think her thinking is selfish. I don’t. It’s realistic.

  Reaching the door to my apartment, my body aches from all the work and stress. My heart is in even more pain than my body. I’m so deep in my head that I’m not paying attention to my surroundings. All I can think about is getting into the apartment, getting a shot of tequila and letting myself give in to the tears that I had held at bay anytime I thought about Parker and the last two months of my life.

  I feel a big hand on my shoulder and I turn to look at who grabbed me.

  “Liz.” Parker says, dark circles under his concerned grey eyes.

  Liz. Not Angel or Ellie, but Liz.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask straightening my back.

  He stands there looking at me. His hand on my shoulder moving down to my waist, pulling me in close, and I let him. I’m powerless to stop him when he pulls me close and he knows it.

  We are so damn close to one another it's hard for me to breathe. I miss this. I’ve missed his heat, his scent, his touch. It’s only been four days, if I include the days he’d been in New York, but it felt more like months. The way he’s looking at me makes me needy. His stare is hungry yet so damn confused that it catches me off guard. Weakening all my defenses in a way only he can. In a way that only he would ever be able to.

  “I have no fucking idea,” his deep voice growls in front of my face.

  In a split second, without warning his face comes down on mine, his mouth immediately on mine. I try to say something, but he only takes advantage of my mouth parting. His taste, the feel of his body around me, his lips on mine is too much. It makes me completely stupid because I kiss him back.

  It’s unlike any kiss we’d shared the last two months and we’d shared many. It’s not gentle or sweet. It’s angry and hard, de
vouring. No other word would describe it better than that. Devouring! A blur of teeth, tongues, bites, scrapes. His body slams mine against the wall next to the door of my apartment. The surface of the stucco scratching against my back, but I don’t care. All I want at that moment is what only he can give me. His mouth kissing and licking my jaw, moving to my neck, and I can’t help myself. I feel like I’ve been starving these last few days and a taste simply isn’t enough.

  My silly stupid mind holding onto the smallest shred of hope that lives in me, thinking that maybe I can give up the bakery. I can somehow find a way to help Tess’s mom, somehow help my employees find a new job. I would do anything so that I don’t have to give up Parker. I can explain what’s happening. I will, the moment we stop kissing.

  Tangling my hands in his hair, my mouth on his neck just as his mouth reaches my ear. His breathing is off, like he’s been out for a long run. The sound of it is making me wet, the roughness of the stubble on his face against the sensitive skin at my neck makes me tremble in his arms. My body is singing for what he’s giving me and begging for more.

  “Will you dance for me?” He asks and I freeze. My body goes from scorching to ice cold within seconds.

  “What?” I whisper. My heart feels like it’s trying to beat through thick sludge.

  “I have more than enough cash in my wallet,” he says in an arrogant tone I’d never heard from him. My heart sinks lower. I’d been seconds away from giving it all up for him.

  “For some fucking reason I can’t get you out of my head,” he tells me as he nuzzles my neck, the stubble on his jaw rough against my skin, “That’s what you do right? Strip?” I can feel him breath deep at the sweet spot of my neck, “Or do I owe you for the past couple weeks of ‘extras’? Hmm?” His hands grab my ass pulling me into him, “Or should I wait for your next shift at Shine? I could definitely afford you." His deep voice rumbles into my ear as my heart finishes its plummet.

  Crashing onto the jagged rocks of hell, I can almost picture my poor heart speared and shredded, tiny pieces of it bouncing slightly only to hit the floor and lay wherever they fell.

  He knows.

  He knows and he’s reacting exactly like I’d thought he would. He even knows I’m going to dance tomorrow. A sick thought crawls into my head. Had he played me? Is he part of whatever game the Judge is playing?

  Straightening up, my hands going to his chest, I pull away from him, not looking at his eyes. I can’t believe what he’d said. I don’t want to see the ugliness of his words in his eyes.

  Not because it’d hurt, it would, it’d probably kill me. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the hurt in mine. I don’t want to show him that I care. I don’t want him to see how broken his words are making me. He’d just shown me that the man I’d thought he was had been an illusion.

  Fuck him. I’ll show him.

  Grabbing my keys from my jeans pocket, I unlock the door to my apartment. I have no idea what I’m doing all I know is that the beauty that he’d been to me is gone. It was nothing but a show. He’s like the rest, if not worse. Worse! The rest didn’t pretend to be someone else. Someone I should’ve known could not possibly even exist. I should’ve known better than to let walls fall and let him in. But I’m an idiot, a complete idiot who let Parker worm his way in. God I was stupid.

  I can feel the heat from his gaze on my neck. He follows me into my apartment, my heart thumping hard against my chest. Without thinking I bring my hair down from the high ponytail it had been in, I shake it free and run my fingers through it as I walk towards my small dining room. My heart is hurting. Anger, pain, anxiety and helplessness all swirling around me in an ugly way. Such an ugly way, I feel sick.

  Silently, neither of us talking, I drag one of the chairs from the dining room into the living room, turning on the music as I pass by my radio system. I stand away from him and he looks at me. His grey eyes on me are those of a predator stalking his prey. That’s exactly what I was when it came to him. Prey! I watch him slowly loosen his burgundy embossed tie and with an expert touch he undoes the top two buttons of his white dress shirt, he sits his strong powerful body in the chair. His face expressionless, but it’s his grey eyes that hurt. Clear anger mixed slightly with confusion. An idea comes to my mind and I smirk as I pick the song.

  I can hurt him too.

  A dance mix of Latch by Disclosure starts to play and he closes his eyes slowly almost as if it’s somehow painful for him to hear it. He knows exactly why I’m playing this song. He’d sang it to me not even a week ago in Miami, making me want to cling to the lyrics like a lifeline. He'd made me believe in them. But he hadn’t meant them.

  Not at all.

  I’d been wrong. I’d been so damn wrong about him.

  He didn’t feel shit for me other than the need to get laid, and I’d been an idiot to fall for it.

  Swaying my hips to the beat of the song, running my hands over my body as the song moves through me I slowly lift my red tank top over my stomach until it reaches my bra, letting my fingers go down the smoothness of my tanned skin. I reach the buttons of the waistband of my jeans. Turning my back to him, I bend slowly, looking over my shoulder watching him. His eyes are running all over my body. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, his jaw is clenched and a muscle at his cheek twitches slightly. My face is serious, chills running up and down my body as I pull my jeans over my hips, giving him a clear view of my lace encased ass. I’d worn bright pink lace boy shorts. I got lucky. I know how much he likes me in lace. Sure enough his grey eyes turn to steel, his hand clenching and unclenching as if he's dying to touch me.

  Kicking my jeans off, I turn stepping in front of him within touching distance, lifting my shirt over my head throwing it and letting it land right next to his feet. My eyes never leave his, even with the pain that is so damn sharp in my chest. I reach behind me and unhook my bra, holding the bra in place with one hand, bringing the straps down one at a time with the other. I walk between his legs and turn my back to his front. I shimmy down at the beat of the song, bending at the waist so that my ass is in front of him. Glancing at him from over my shoulder, I look at him.

  His knuckles are a pale white as he holds tightly to the armrest and I let the bra fall down. Turning to him, I sway to the beat, running my hands over my body. All of this, as I’m dying inside. I'd been an idiot when it came to him, so stupid believing in him. Falling for and believing his sweet words that’d been nothing but lies.

  Believing in anyone again was the mistake. He’s nothing more than every other man I’d ever met. I can do this.

  I straddle him, rubbing myself down on him. He’s hard and thick below me. His dick is hard and flush against my center. As angry and hurt as I am, I’m wet. I’m wet and so damn turned on by him. I hate it. I know he can tell too. You can smell my arousal in the thick air that surrounds us, and I don’t care. He’s hard and I’m wet. It’s just a physical reaction we have to one another.

  Physical… Primal… Desperate! But this time I knew better than to confuse lust with the possibility of a different word starting with the same letter.

  “Fuck, angel,” he growls when I nuzzle his neck with my nose, my tits pressed hard against his chest, his mouth at my neck and I freeze. Hearing him call me that finishes it for me. The last little part of me breaks. I’m not sure why one word from his mouth does it, but it did.

  Tears I’ve been holding onto tightly, start falling. Big, ugly tear drops roll down my face, falling freely into my hair, but I don’t stop. I keep giving him a lap dance. Swaying and grinding against him, hoping against hope that my tears will just stop. One of his hands moves to my face and I immediately close my eyes. Our foreheads touching now, I don’t open my eyes because it hurts too much to look at him. To look into the grey eyes I love. Grey eyes that think I’m nothing. Grinding my hips, reminding myself he’s just like the men at Shine. Just like his grandfather. I keep swaying my hips against his lap. His hardness is right at my wet
center. There are too many emotions choking me.

  “Stop,” he growls, but I don’t. I’m not his to order around anymore.

  I’m not sure what point I’m trying to make, but I’m determined. Maybe it’s wanting to give him what he’d come here for. To make sure that when he leaves he’ll really believe I’m nothing. Or maybe I’m so desperate for his touch that I’ll take it anyway he’d let me have it. I keep grinding against him, my hands on my bare breasts, his hands pulling my body in close.

  “STOP,” he growls louder.

  “This is what you wanted right?” I whisper when the song ends and immediately goes to Maps by Maroon Five.

  “Angel.” His heavy breathing makes his broad chest heave up and down, rubbing wonderfully against my hard nipples. My eyes still closed, my forehead touching his. I keep swaying my body to the beat. Fresh tears escape. His grip on me is tighter, closer. I am held so close and tight that I can’t move, I can no longer sway on his lap.

  As messed up as the situation is, worse is my traitorous body that wants more of him, anyway I can get him.

  “I’m sorry,” he gets out. His usually deep voice is husky with emotion, my eyes stay shut.

  “Look at me,” he demands and I shake my head, sniffling. “Angel. Look. At. Me,” he demands and I shake my head. I lean back from him, opening my eyes, looking down at his chest. Noticing the white dress shirt he’s wearing, the buttons he’d undone that showed off the sprinkling of dark chest hair underneath.

  “You should leave.” I whisper, everything in me aching. I feel cheap and dirty, more than I ever did dancing at Shine. So dirty that all I want to do is take a scalding hot shower.

  Dirty, cheap, and stupid.

  “Baby…,” he starts to say but I shake my head. My eyes bravely make their way up to his thick neck. God his neck is freaking sexy. No. I have to snap out of it.