Ruined
Page 4
Rick nodded, grim. “I understand.”
“I can’t come back again.” This was it. The last time I’d see him. I’d come back for the funeral, but it would be from a distance. “The thing is always nudging me toward darkness, but when I’m here—when I’m near Chase—it’s worse.”
Rick hesitated, like there was something more he wanted to say. Another moment passed, and he pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, kid. I think—I think you’re going to be all right. Stay away from your brother and everything will be all right…”
Chapter Six
Sam
I stuffed the car keys into my back pocket and slammed the rental car door. The sun was shining and there was a chill in the air to tell us winter was on the way. I hadn’t slept last night, so by the time 9:00 a.m. rolled around, I was the walking dead. To make matters worse, my aunt didn’t drink coffee. The woman wasn’t human… I ended up being late to work to sate my caffeine addiction, because going without wasn’t an option.
“Sam,” someone whispered. “Psst. Over here.”
I whirled around, almost losing my footing in the loose gravel, and squinted into the darkness of the alley. A hunched figure hovered in the shadows by the dumpster. “Hobe?”
A small-framed man in his early thirties with a nasty nervous tic and a serious acne issue stepped from the dark. He refused to look directly at me and kept both hands stuffed in his pockets as he came closer. If I didn’t know Hobe, I probably would’ve crossed the street to avoid him. Not dangerous in a bruiser sort of way, he had an entirely different kind of vibe. Creepy in that “it’s always the quiet ones” way. Our boss usually made him work mornings to clean up because he tended to freak out the customers.
The Viking was Harlow’s only nightclub. The club opened two years ago—despite an enthusiastic campaign from residents to keep it out—and had become a hot spot. Even people from four towns over visited.
“Boss man is on the war path.”
“I’m running late for my shift. I know, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t a morning person, but I was stuck coming in early, before the club opened, to do grunt work because I’d been late four times last week. Normally Martin stuck me behind the bar. I wasn’t the prettiest, but I knew how to water down a drink better than anyone. The big boss was nothing if not cheap. “What’s his deal today?”
“This Gentleman Stalker thing. He’s pissed. Says it’s bad for business.”
I’d heard about that. Some of the girls who had gone missing were from Huntington campus. It just reinforced that I’d made the right choice. I could have ended up like them. In fact, I had a feeling I almost had.
The decision to leave school was prompted mainly because I’d been attacked one night on the way home from a party. No one knew about the Gentleman Stalker at the time, but who knew? I could have ended up his first victim.
Yesterday, after the accident, I’d even had myself convinced that the near miss at school and the sudden streak of bad luck here in Harlow were somehow connected. But with the clarity of a new day, I realized that was insane. That would mean whoever attacked me on campus had followed me all the way home. There’d be no point. I’d never even seen his face.
“Boss is going to stick you on cleanup crew with me for the next month,” Hobe said as I made my way around the car and to the back door. “Then you’ll have to deal with the monsters.”
I bit my tongue as I slipped in through the back. The running joke at the club was that Hobe’s mother had dropped him on his head during a monster movie marathon.
He followed, shaking his head. “Fangs and shit. Horns, scales, tentacles…” he continued seriously. “You’re nice. I’d hate to see you hurt.”
“Tentacles? Really?” And I thought I’d heard it all last week when he’d told me aliens were running the Dairy Queen on Eighth and had offered him a job. “Well, thank God I have you to protect me.”
It was going to be a long day…
As punishment for being late—again—Martin made me clean out the bathrooms. When I was done with that, he had me scraping the vomit from the side of the building. It was a good thing I had an ironclad stomach.
“Hey,” someone said, coming up behind me. “This where the cool kids are hanging?”
No.
The universe was testing me. That was the only explanation. I nodded without turning. It was bad enough he’d come back to town, now Jax Flynn was stalking me at work? While I cleaned puke from a wall? What the hell had I done in another life to piss off karma so badly? “Sure is. Guess that means you’ll have to stand someplace else.”
“And deprive you of the chance to experience my godlike body?”
I threw down the rag and straightened, turning to him with a sneer. “Godlike? Try pasty and…” Yeah, I had nothing. Godlike was a good word. Drool-worthy. Focus-stealing… Holy shit. I couldn’t stand there, looking at him, without wondering what his lips would taste like. Or how his skin would feel as I ran my fingers over the hard planes of his muscle.
In the same trench coat as yesterday, he was swathed in black from head to toe, looking every bit as dangerous as he did delicious. It burned that the sight of him still revved my engine. He was cut, too. “What are you doing here, Jax? Something tells me you didn’t come down to watch me scrape puke.”
A waggle of his brows and a not-so-subtle wink. “But you scrape it so well.” I geared up to tell him to shove off, but he raised his hands, sobering. “Okay, okay. Kelly told me where to find you.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I told her I was leaving. Wanted to say good-bye and see how you were doing.”
A tangled knot formed in my chest. I hated that he was here, yet a part of me wanted so badly for him to stay. How was that for twisted? I should have the words “perpetual indecision” tattooed on my ass. “Good-bye?”
He tilted his head to the right. “Missing me already?”
Hell, yes. “Counting down the seconds to departure, actually,” I said. I stepped away from the building and twirled around, ending with a little bow. “And obviously I’m right as rain. Feel free to move it along to whatever hole you plan on crawling into for the next three years. I’m working, after all.”
“Oh, yeah.” He folded his arms. “I can see that. It must be exhausting to clean puke. Bet they pay you the big bucks. Tell me, do you have a corner office yet?”
I turned back to the wall. The stain was all but gone, but I contemplated scrubbing it some more. I would not engage in a bickering match. Would. Not. “Like I said, I’m fine. Obligation complete.” I wiggled my fingers over my shoulder in a dismissive wave. “Run along and irritate someone else now.”
He made a noise low in his throat—a cross between a snort and a growl that was both hysterical and sexy at the same time. “Obligation? What kind of sense does that make? You were driving. How could I possibly feel obligated?”
Shit. He had a point.
“Speaking of…” I turned to face him again. But not stare at his chest. Or his arms. Or his lips. God. Definitely not his lips… Wow. Had someone cranked up the heat? “What was up with that, anyway? If I hadn’t piped up, you weren’t going to say anything.”
Silence.
“About driving the car?” I prodded.
He narrowed his eyes and I had to remind myself to breathe. That look, all attitude and danger, used to be the death of me. Apparently, things hadn’t changed. “Why bother?”
“Why—? Kelly thought you almost killed me. You didn’t even defend yourself.”
He stiffened. “I don’t need you to stick up for me. Maybe I didn’t care what she thought?”
“Hey, Sam,” Margret Guinness called as she passed on the sidewalk. I didn’t miss the look of disdain that crossed the old woman’s face as her eyes passed over Jax.
He didn’t miss it either. He glared at Margret, and without turning back to me, said, “Maybe I don’t care what any of them think—and that includes you.”And with that,
he turned on his heel and started toward the back of the parking lot.
Was he kidding? With a quick look at the door to make sure the boss wasn’t watching, I took off after Jax.
“You’re really something.” I caught him as he reached the edge of the parking lot. Grabbing his arm, I spun him around. “And a big, fat liar.”
He snorted, eyebrows rising slightly. “Someone needs to update their vocabulary. Scoundrel. Rogue. Criminally hot badass. You can do better than big fat liar, Sammy.” He pulled away and kept walking.
Some people called it stubbornness. I called it determination. Proudly inherited from my mom right along with my crooked toes and too-wide smile. I caught up to him again, this time jumping in front to block his path. “You care what I think. Granted, you may not care what Kelly thinks—most people don’t—but you care what I think.”
“You’re delusional,” he growled, all the humor draining from his expression. I knew that look. It was the about to go postal expression I’d seen on him a thousand times before. “You can’t possibly believe—”
From inside my back pocket, the cell phone started ringing. Without waiting for him to finish, I fished it out, hoping it pissed him off. He’d always had a thing about being interrupted. “Hello?”
“Ms. Merrick? This is Allen over at Frenksel Automotive. I’m just calling to inform you that we’ve had a chance to look over your car.”
“Oh. Well, that was fast. I knew the sheriff was having it yanked from the river. Any idea what caused my brakes to crap out?”
Behind me, Jax’s shadow moved a bit closer. I could feel him standing close and it was giving me chills.
“Yes. We know exactly why your brakes didn’t work. Ms. Merrick…it looks as though they were cut.”
Chapter Seven
Jax
This was against the rules. Don’t get involved.
And yet as she ended the call, I opened my damn mouth.
“Cut? What the hell is going on?” It wasn’t eavesdropping. The guy on the other end of the line was practically yelling. I would have heard the call even without the demonic boost. “Why would someone cut your brakes?”
She tried to cover it up, but it was impossible to hide. At least, from me. A quick nibble at the left corner of her bottom lip and an overexaggerated roll of her brown eyes. That, and the hint of gray smoke that rose from her shoulders. “They’re wrong. Obviously. Why the hell would someone cut my brakes? Everyone loves me. You, on the other hand…”
She was lying. The taste of fear, sickly sweet and thick in the air, was all around. This wasn’t random and she knew it.
“Apparently, they love you so much it hurts,” I said coolly.
“Now look who’s funnier.” She flashed a thin smile. It bothered me that she thought she could pass it off as real. I’d been gone a few years, but I could see through her. Always could. Shit like that didn’t change.
“Seriously, Sammy. What’s this all about? First you leave school, now someone tries to put you at the bottom of the river? Who’d you piss off?” There. Another opening for her to come clean.
She crossed her arms and glared, the expression sexy as all hell. The right-hand corner of her lip quirked. Eyes narrow and focused. Head tilted sideways. Hair falling across her eyes. “If—and that’s a huge if—the brakes were cut, it was probably a mistake. Maybe they got the wrong car.”
“Yeah. Because that kind of shit happens all the time in Harlow.” Think snails. Open-heart surgery. Naked dudes. Anything other than the way she looked and the sound of her voice. It was derailing my focus. “If I hadn’t been in the car, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
I thought back to the night I’d left. The one and only time we’d kissed. A real kiss—not the too-brief brush in the car at the bottom of the river. Soft lips. Warm skin. The scent of honeysuckle all around. The feeling of contentment quickly overshadowed by something dark and poisonous.
“Oh, that’s right.” She smacked her head, pulling me from the memory. The gray mist faded as she glanced back toward the building. “You saved me.” Another step closer. I found it impossible to look away. “And why do you even care? This is none of your business.”
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. Only Sam could make me this particular shade of pissed off. “I was in the car, too. Whoever your friendly would-be murderer is, he almost offed me, as well. Technically I have a right to kick someone’s ass.”
She blinked, genuinely surprised. “You have the right?” She was standing so close. All I’d have to do was move my hand an inch—maybe two—and I could touch her. The thought pulled unwanted reactions from my body. “You—” She shook her head, backing away slowly toward the building.
I should have seen it coming.
In a single, fluent move, Sam pivoted and reached for the container of dirty water. Bucket in hand, she moved back toward me. “You have the right?”
She wouldn’t dare… “I know what you’re thinking, Sammy. Don’t.”
She grinned. A wicked smile that did fucked-up things to my brain. The way her bottom lip protruded just a hair. Eyes narrow. Cheekbones sharp. Samantha Merrick was the picture of perfection—even if she was contemplating assault with a stinky weapon.
“Wanna know what else you have a right to?”
Unfortunately there was only one thing on my mind at that particular moment, and the words came out before I could stop them. “Well, since I saved your life, I think I probably deserve a kiss. At the very least. With tongue.”
She froze for a second, face paling. Oh. Yeah. Stumped her good. It didn’t last, though. She closed the distance between us and leaned close, stopping mere inches from me. The hand holding the bucket fell to her side.
“Jax…” The sound of my name on her lips had a powerful effect on not only me, but the demon. As she nuzzled my ear and ran a finger up the other side of my neck, the demon rumbled and the scene around me changed. Another flash, this one unlike anything the thing had shown me before.
Sam was beneath me, breathing hard and biting down on her lower lip. She arched her back and moaned, exposing herself to me, and my real-time pulse spiked. The vision wasn’t real, but was wreaking havoc on my body all the same. It was impossible not to see her like that, willing and vulnerable, and not have a physical reaction.
There was a surge of amusement from the demon. It enjoyed the way this made me feel. Hungry and furious. Starving to touch her, while at the same time, so terrified of hurting her more than I already had. The flash continued, and I watched, unable to block it out, as I lowered my lips to the hollow of her throat. I worked my way down, dipping between her breasts and nipping at the skin along the way, drawing shocked little noises from Sam’s lips.
The flash ended, leaving me hard and hot, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.
“You really want a kiss? How about a wet one?” The heat from her breath lingered for a moment, followed by a stream of tepid, foul-smelling water as it rained over my head and ran down my shoulders.
I stumbled away and flicked the excess water from my arms. In a way, I was thankful. While not as good as a cold shower, it helped get the situation back under control. Unfortunately, it also made the demon furious. It pushed, but I gritted my teeth and stuffed it down. With an irritated sigh, I met her gaze and held it. “Are we even now?”
“Not a chance.” She let the empty bucket fall to the sidewalk and rubbed her hands down the sides of her jeans. “But who cares, right? You’re leaving again anyway.” Sam turned on her heel and strode to the door. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she was gone.
It was plain to see by the swirling colors above her head that she wanted me to stay despite how I’d left her behind. That alone should have lit a California wildfire under my ass. But something was wrong. Sam was in trouble—whether she knew it or not.
An hour ago, I’d been ready to leave. I’d come to the club to say good-bye once and for all, determined to put Harlow, and her, in the p
ast for good. Now I had no choice. I had to stay—at least until I made sure she wouldn’t have any more “car trouble.”
I’d gone back to Rick’s for a dry shirt. At least, that’s what I told myself. What was supposed to be a ten-minute stopover ended up being three beers for me and two hours’ worth of bullshitting. I probably would have stayed longer, but Rick was exhausted, and I knew I was pushing my luck. I gathered my coat and was almost out the door when Chase came in.
“My jaw is fine. Thanks for asking.”
I stopped halfway across the living room. Turning around was a bad call, but I did it anyway. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I told him that,” Rick called from the other room. A series of coughs followed.
Chase leaned against the doorframe and grinned. Not a care in the world. That always bugged me. Easy and smooth. The guy never stressed over anything. “Why? Because you’ll kick my ass?”
Fists tight, I took a step closer. It was a dangerous move considering the way the demon inside raged, but I couldn’t help it. “It’s a miracle you’re not in traction after what I walked into yesterday.”
My brother was the only human whose emotions I couldn’t see. We’d written it off as the curse—technically he was part of it, the Abel to my Cain—but it still bugged me. There had never been a problem seeing Rick’s colors. He frowned. “I got a little carried away trying to prove a point.”
“What fucking point? All the other girls in the world and you pick Sammy?”
Chase sighed and grabbed a baseball from the table. He’d won the game with it in tenth grade, and Rick had it mounted. “The point is, that even when I push your buttons, you can hold it together. If anything was going to set your dial to meltdown, that would have been the thing to do it. It was one little punch, man. I’m fine. Besides, I was a little jealous.”
Had everyone in this town lost their goddamned minds? “Jealous? Of the snarling monster living in my head?”