Mess You Up (Brooks Crest Book 1)

by Jaxson Kidman

  MESS YOU UP

  a Brooks Crest novel

  Jaxson Kidman

  Contents

  MESS YOU UP

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  MESS ME UP

  MORE TO READ!

  More from Jaxson

  MESS YOU UP

  (Mac)

  She's an angel. I'm the guy the devil runs from.

  We have nothing in common. We have no reason to be near each other.

  But from the second I see her, I want her.

  And nothing will stop me from getting to her.

  I can't let her get too close to me. She can see and enjoy the 'bad boy' side of my life. Anything else is too much.

  She's in law school, dreaming of a career.

  I'm on the opposite end of the law.

  I know I should leave her standing on that beach, wondering why I never showed up.

  It would be the right thing to do.

  But when I find out she's unknowingly mixed up in my secret life, everything changes.

  I've gone too far. She's too close.

  And there's only one way out of this life...

  1

  I open my eyes.

  Happy fucking Birthday.

  My room isn’t as trashed as I figured it would be.

  The birthday banner still hangs on the ceiling, even with the zero missing.

  That’s because Taz got a little crazy and said he could prove how thick he was in a certain area and wanted to wear the zero down there.

  Just in case you care, he was full of shit.

  I had no idea where the zero ended up, but if it touched the area I thought it did, Taz could keep it for the rest of his life.

  I don’t mind the room.

  It’s the biggest in the building.

  I’m used to being on the other side of the BC world.

  Kind of fucked up and funny when you think of someone like me graduating.

  Right?

  Not that much shit is different now.

  It’s the same bullshit classes, just in a different setting.

  I still control the entire place.

  It’s my little empire, wall to wall, and everything in between.

  I reach for a cigarette before grabbing my phone.

  Priorities.

  I slowly sit up and groan through the sledgehammer inside my skull.

  Every time I turned around last night, someone was shoving a drink in my face.

  Of course everyone showed up. They all wanted a chance to kiss my ass. Which was smart on their part. Because there were two people that didn’t show up last night.

  And today, they were going to get the beating of a lifetime.

  I stick the cigarette between my lips and can’t find a lighter.

  I move my right hand under the covers and touch something.

  Cloth at first.

  Then skin.

  Warm skin.

  Soft skin.

  Something delicious.

  The curve of a woman’s hip.

  Hmm…

  I lift the covers and there’s a cute blonde girl next to me.

  Well, maybe she’s cute.

  I can’t see her face.

  Just from behind.

  She’s wearing my jacket. My fancy, Brooks Crest jacket that I have to wear when I’m walking around that shit hole. You know, we have to keep up appearances and all that shit. So all that big hush money isn’t going to waste.

  Which is actually ironic because the hush money isn’t needed.

  If they only knew how much I had and what I did to earn it.

  I lift the back of the jacket and nod.

  The cute blonde has a tattoo.

  The tramp stamp on her lower back of some flowers tells me she’s cute.

  I shake her. “Hey, sweetie. Wake the fuck up. I need a lighter or something here. I need a smoke.”

  The cute blonde groans.

  Well, fuck you too then.

  I swing my feet out of the bed and stand up and stretch.

  I put on my jeans and find a t-shirt.

  I spot a lighter on the floor and celebrate my birthday by lighting up my first cigarette of the day.

  Then I grab my phone.

  And I realize I’m fucking late.

  “Shit,” I whisper.

  My meeting with Dean Dickhead.

  He’s going to want my head on a platter.

  I balance my cigarette on the dresser and go back to the bed.

  “Listen, sweetie, I need this jacket,” I say. “I have to get out of here.”

  “I’m tired,” the cute blonde whispers.

  “Then fucking sleep,” I say. “Just give me my fucking jacket.”

  She sticks her arm up and I have to strip her out of the fucking thing.

  Just what I need.

  More time pissing away.

  I wrestle with the cute blonde and my jacket.

  She was only wearing my jacket.

  So I’m fucking rock hard as I step off the bed and put my jacket on.

  I flick my finger at the BC crest on the left breast of the jacket.

  Then I grit my teeth as the cute blonde goes back to sleep.

  If I remember correctly, she’s majoring in economics and minoring in a new dick each night.

  I grab my cigarette and my phone and I walk out of my room.

  Everyone else is still sleeping.

  But I’m the one awake.

  The one who has to face Dean Dickhead.

  All so we can keep our system in place.

  What does that mean?

  Keep fucking reading… you’ll see.

  I walk across the campus after grabbing my bag out of my car. Everyone who sees me does one of two things.

  I either get a head nod with a quiet Happy Birthday or I get nothing at all. And the nothing at all people look away. They won’t make eye contact because apparently on the other side of BC there’s a rumor that if you look at me, I’ll knock you out.

  How true is it?

  Take a look at me and find out.

  I’m the fucking king around here. The transition from one side of the building to the other was flawless. Especially since I made it so the rest of the guys could come with me. It was me, Taz, Raf, Les, Aric, and even Ado. I thought about leaving that prick behind but I figured it was better to keep him close.

  Now, crossing over to the other side of BC was a big deal. I had to make a statement.

  And that’s just what I did.

  When I see Rex leaning against a tree with his crutches next to him, I can’t help myself. I have to check on him. I mean, after all, I was the one who broke his leg.

  My big muscle man who thought he ran this part of the world learned a hard lesson.

  And it was amazing how quick and easy his bone broke too.

  I just balanced it between two chairs and jumped.

  To be fair, I did give him a little something to take the edge off before I broke his leg. And I stuffed his mouth with his girlfriend’s panties.

  To me, I was nice about it.

  It was business.

  “Rex,”
I say.

  He looks at me and swallows hard.

  His neck collapses into his shoulders from the muscle. His face is thick. He looks like a pimple ready to pop. And the spiked-up blond hair confuses me. Why the fuck do dudes do that?

  Now the funny thing with Rex is that his name is Randy. But Rex came from him having small arms. He was a beast with small arms… like a fucking T-Rex.

  What a fucking loser.

  Girls use him for protection.

  Excuse me, they used to use him for protection.

  Now if someone needs help around here, they know who to talk to.

  “Mac,” Rex says. “Uh, Happy Birthday, bro.”

  “Right,” I say. “You weren’t around last night.”

  “Wasn’t sure if I was invited.”

  “Everyone was,” I say. “You missed a good party.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I was dealing with some shit.”

  “What kind of shit, Rex?”

  “Nothing.”

  I stare at him.

  He sighs.

  “Personal stuff,” he says. “Kerri is fucking someone else. This fucking leg thing is killing me, Mac. You couldn’t have done something else to me?”

  “I needed your attention,” I say. “And don’t forget, you were the one who came up to me first.”

  “Yeah,” Rex says. “When I get off these crutches, I’m going to break his neck.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Jared.”

  “Jared,” I say. “Wait… the guy with the fucked up looking lip?”

  “Christ, Mac, he was born that way,” Rex says. “Something with the right side of his face. I don’t know. Girls think it’s cute.”

  “I bet Kerri likes more than just his lips,” I say.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “How do you know he’s fucking her?”

  “She told me,” Rex says. “She’s a bitch. Ruthless.”

  “Damn,” I say. “You know, women are like that. Vicious. They’re fucking evil. All of them. They know their resources… but you have to be smarter than that.”

  “How so?”

  “Be sensible,” I say. “We all need water to live, right? If you go around acting thirsty all the time, someone with water could charge what they want. But if you play it cool, act like the water doesn’t matter, you’ll get it anyway. Less stress.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Rex asks.

  “I’m not sure,” I say. “Jared, huh? Let me see what I can do for you.”

  “Mac… I don’t want any more debt…”

  I reach behind me and curl my hand around a small bag.

  “No more debt, huh?” I ask as I put my fist out at Rex.

  He curls his lip and looks around. “This debt I don’t mind.”

  I open my hand and he takes the bag from me.

  “I’m sorry I missed your party last night, bro,” he says.

  I grab for one of the crutches and back up.

  “Fuck, Mac,” Rex says.

  I find some pretty girl walking with her head down.

  I let her bump into me.

  She gasps, then gasps again when she realizes it’s me.

  “Hey, sweetie,” I say. “Take this crutch. Don’t let Rex have it back, okay? I’m going to come looking for it later. If you don’t have it…”

  Her face turns bright red.

  She takes the crutch and keeps walking, looking back every few seconds.

  “Thanks for that,” Rex says.

  “It’ll give you something to do,” I say. “I’ll handle Jared.”

  “Mac…”

  I turn and keep walking.

  Am I a terrible prick?

  Of course I am.

  I’m supposed to be.

  But this place was Rex’s before I showed up.

  I wasn’t going to share anything with him.

  But every now and again I could throw him a favor.

  See, I’m not that bad, right?

  I open the door to Dean Dickhead’s office even with his secretary Bitchy Bev screaming at me to wait my turn.

  I offer her a one finger salute without looking back.

  Dean Dickhead is face deep in a greasy breakfast sandwich.

  He looks at me and a glob of egg falls to his desk.

  He quickly stands up and I see he’s not wearing pants.

  Just dress socks almost up to his knees.

  He grabs for his pants hung on the back of his chair.

  “What the hell?” he growls as he hurries to get into his pants.

  Watching the dean of this place dance around on one leg, struggling to get his pants on is almost worth having to leave the cute blonde back in my bed.

  I cross my arms and wait.

  “Now I have goddamn grease on my pants,” he says. “And look where it’s at. Looks like I made a mess of myself.”

  “Or just shot a load because Bev bent over…”

  “She’s old enough to be your grandmother,” Dean Dickhead says.

  “So what? Don’t tell me you haven’t had that yet. Late nights. Asking her to make copies for you. And she slides herself up on the copier and hits the button. Leaving you a little hint of what you could have.”

  Dean Dickhead points at me. “You’re on borrowed time here, Cormac. So you better shut your fucking mouth and sit down. We have a problem.”

  “Why the no pants breakfast?” I ask as I sit down.

  “It’s more comfortable,” he says.

  His name is David Deekman.

  Dean Dickhead works better.

  He looks like a Dickhead.

  He is a Dickhead.

  So it works.

  I put my feet up on his desk and he reaches across the desk and smacks my feet.

  “Come on, Cormac,” he says.

  I put my feet down. “You want to break my balls over a class? Go for it. I’m not going anywhere. You know that. I know that.”

  “Henderson,” Dean Dickhead says.

  “Fuck,” I whisper. “I haven’t been there in a while.”

  “Ever.”

  “Okay… ever.”

  “You know you need to at least pretend to try,” he says to me.

  “No, I don’t. I’ve got a plan.”

  “Which is?”

  “Turn the frown upside down,” I say. I stand up. “And you made me come here for this? It’s my birthday and I’m wasting my time here?”

  “Waste of time?” Dean Dickhead asks. “You’re not going to make it, Cormac. I can only do so much. There are favors and then there’s crossing the line. You want to bust in here and catch me without my pants on and make jokes? Go for it. You want to make obscene comments about Bev? Enjoy. But this is serious. Almost time for you to go. For good.”

  I nod. “Wow. That is serious.”

  “Thank you. I’m trying to make sure my point gets across here.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time taking you seriously because I keep picturing you in your undies, tongue fucking a sandwich.”

  Dean Dickhead looks ready to explode.

  I must have stepped too far.

  I show my hands and then point to his computer.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I say. “But I need a favor.”

  “No.”

  “I need to know where someone is,” I say.

  Dean Dickhead stares.

  He’s pissed.

  But I know he’ll listen to me.

  “Name?” he asks.

  “Jared… what the fuck’s his last name?” I ask. “The guy with lips…”

  Dean Dickhead sighs and types away.

  You can hate me for pointing out how I describe someone, but it always works.

  “He’s in a business class right now,” Dean Dickhead says.

  He rattles off the name and location.

  I take out my phone and text Taz.

  I let him know what I needhim to do and then I set my sights back on Dean Dickhead. />
  “What was that about?” he asks me.

  “Personal.”

  “I just got someone hurt.”

  “Not necessarily. You never know what I’m going to do.”

  “Oh, I always know what you’re going to do.”

  I’ve had enough of this bullshit banter.

  I reach into my bag and I put my hand to his desk.

  Our eyes lock tight.

  He licks his lips and swallows hard.

  I grin.

  “Move your hand, Cormac,” he says.

  “Still having trouble getting it up?” I ask.

  “Move your fucking hand,” he says.

  “Tell Henderson I said to eat shit,” I said.

  “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth.

  I lift my hand.

  He reaches into his pocket.

  “No need,” I say. “This one’s on me. I’m feeling good… after all, it’s my birthday.”

  Dean Dickhead hates himself that he needs me around.

  But he can’t stop himself.

  And that, dear fucking readers, is just the beginning of our wild ride.

  2

  I make my rounds like a doctor in a hospital, smoking cigarettes in between trips to this building and that building. From dorm to dorm. To the prestigious lecture halls where minds like mine were meant to be shaped into something good.

  Face it, we were all thrown into BC to be out of the way.

  And that was fine with me.

  There was zero reason to ever face the people that claimed to have raised me.

  That’s a whole other story and I’m not talking about it right now.

  Don’t like it? Leave the story behind and move on with your life.

  My next stop is the music hall.

  And, no, I don’t play an instrument.