I remember the first time I saw her. The way she looked at me. It’s like she saw the monster living inside me, the one responsible for missing moms, daughters, and sons. The monster who always shows up late to his own hell. And she still let me wrap my arms around her. What she doesn’t know was how I needed her that day as much as she needed me.
“Hey?” She nudges.
I flip the grilled cheese and point. “This okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, holding back any smiles. I’m good with it. I’m not looking for a miracle here. Honestly, I’m not sure what I want from her.
Like my six-year-old niece, she climbs on the barstool at the kitchen island and sits across from me. “Whose house is this?”
“Eddy’s.” I pull a plate from the cupboard and drop the sandwich onto it. “Here.”
She takes it. “Who’s Eddy?”
“I don’t really know the man.” I wave the spatula. “This is one of those Airbnbs.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I rest against the counter, cross my arms over my chest, and watch her eat. I’m kinda digging the alone time with her. She’s not obnoxious, not whinny, not high maintenance. She’s more of an over observant and always on her guard but down to earth person.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
The concern surprises me. “No. I’m good.”
“You sure?” She picks up the other half of her sandwich and holds it out to me. “Foster mom number three taught me how to share.”
Her cheeky smile reminds me of the time she came out of the bathroom at the bar during one of my gigs and caught some wasted chick trying to molest me in the hallway. I couldn’t get away from the girl. Jaggs smirked at me and walked away like it was something I do all the time. When I hadn’t touched a girl since Jaggs caught me banging the one backstage. It’s the first time I felt the fucked-up feelings I have for her. I’m still having a hard time putting a finger on whether it’s empathy, shame, or desire. But after the kiss at Crash’s place the other day and considering I haven’t stopped thinking about it and am ready to pounce on any opportunity to do it again, I’ve come to terms with it. I want her in a way that will not be satisfied until we’re both naked in bed.
I shake my head at her current offering, her comment about her foster mom delivering a slow kick in the gut. Without any details, Crash mentioned she had a bad childhood. “How many foster moms were there?”
“Ten. Most of them were looking to cash the check, but a few were in it for the kids. I stay in touch with those.” She lifts the sandwich. “Last chance?”
“Go ahead,” I urge and watch her work on the other half, her black fingernails ripping the bread and cheese apart before stuffing the pieces in her mouth. That’s one thing about Jaggs; she’s not like a lot of other girls. She’s the girl who’d be at the park playing ball instead of playing with dolls. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty, and she swears like a trucker, but somehow, she does it all while still looking sexy as hell. “How’d you end up in Ohio? Aren’t you from Rochester?”
“Yes.” She swallows. “I was born there, but Jenny and I have different dads, so when our mom died, Jenny’s aunt agreed to take us both in. She lived in Ohio. It only lasted a year, though.” She looks back down at the last couple of bites of the sandwich. “She bailed on us after she met a guy. So we were tossed into foster care in Ohio.”
“That sucks.” I stare at her, unable to imagine what happened between Jenny’s aunt and foster parent number ten. Her life must’ve been hard. Mine may have started out bad, but it didn’t last long. I moved in with my dad by the time I turned two and don’t really remember anything prior to that.
“You don’t have any other family? What about your dad?”
She looks up at me. Her peculiar, hypnotizing eyes rest on me with purpose. “Dead. Like my mom, he OD’d.”
Fuck! It’s no wonder she hates me. I’m an addict, so I remind her of her loss. Not to mention, she probably relives her sister’s death whenever she looks at me. I am the first person to try to comfort her after hearing the terrible news. I gotta be a huge ball of tragedy in her eyes.
I rush a hand through my hair. “You done?” I reach for the plate.
“Yeah.” She shoves her hands in her lap. “Thanks.” A small smile touches her pink lips. “I love grilled cheese.”
“You’re welcome.” I set the plate in the sink and come around with my own smile. “Why that color?” I motion with my head.
“What?” She touches her hair. “This?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs.
“Easy to hide behind?”
“Like your scruffy beard and long hair?” Her dark eyebrow lifts.
“I’m just lazy.” I wink. “I like your natural color.”
“Oh.” She touches her short hair again. “I don’t even remember what it is.” She laughs.
“That’s too bad.” I glance at her delicate neck, then mouth, halting at her eyes. “I thought it was pretty.”
“Pretty?” She laughs with a hint of nervousness.
“Yes.” I challenge with a grin.
“What’s going on here?” She looks around the room as if someone is going to pop out from behind a door. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I didn’t take you for someone who can’t take a compliment.”
“Not when it’s coming from someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah. Hot rock star who can get any fangirl he wants.”
I roll my eyes over her upper body, taking note of her firm looking yet small breasts. My cock responds with a slight jump. “You’re not a fangirl, are you?”
“Me?” Her head jerks back. “Hell no!”
“Good. I’ve never wanted a fangirl before.”
“Yet you fuck them.”
“I’m not denying that. I’m just saying, I’ve never really wanted to.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who doesn’t do things he doesn’t really want to.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be an addict.” I hold her eyes with mine. One thing about Jaggs, she likes to act as if she’s not paying attention to what’s going on around her. That way, she’s not held accountable for shit. I want to be sure she’s with me, especially when truthful shit is about to come out of my mouth. “Control is a fucked-up thing. We think we got it, and then something comes along and snags it from us.”
“Well…” She gets up from the stool and places her hand on my chest, eyes not backing down from me. “As long as I’m here, I’ll help keep your control in check.” She gives me another one of her quick, cheeky smirks before saying, “Good night.”
I watch her walk out of the kitchen, confused and hard. Fuck. The more I’m with her, the more it confirms I got a thing for her. It’s the kind of thing I haven’t had for any other woman. It scares the fuck out of me, and believe me, I’ve been scared before. Like holding a bomb in my hand with the timer ticking closer and closer to zero kind of scared.
CHAPTER TEN
I flip in the bed and check my cell. Damn, it’s only 2 a.m. You’d think after all the strange places I’ve slept as a kid, I’d fall asleep anywhere. After having your last pair of socks stolen on a cold night or having a foster parent’s drunk boyfriend try to slip in bed with you, one learns if or when you do fall asleep, it’s always best to do it with one eye open.
When I was at school and I learned about REM sleep, I realized I’ve probably never hit it. Then again, I didn’t hit a lot of things I should have as a child. I didn’t get my first cell phone until I was twenty. Shit, I fell short on many bullshit milestones and survived.
Readjusting the pillow, I drop my head back onto it, hearing a couple of thumps, then a whoomp followed by a hard thwack. I lift my head to get a better listen of what sounds like a basketball thumping on concrete and smacking ag
ainst a backboard prior to rattling the chains of a hoop. I crawl out of bed and look out the window. Sure enough, dressed in pair of shorts and sneakers, Stone is taking shots into the hoop attached to the garage behind the house. And he’s pretty good for a wannabe rock star junkie.
Well, I’m definitely not going to fall asleep now, so I throw on a pair of shorts and my sneaks. It’s warm out. I watch from a distance for a few minutes before jogging onto the makeshift court to steal the ball from him. I land the shot and spin around. Eyes wide with his mouth partially opened, I smile.
“Not bad,” he says, chasing the ball now slowly rolling on the grass. He scoops it up and walks back onto the concrete, sweat glistening all over the muscles and tatts on his chest and arms. “You play?”
“A little.” I shrug. “One of the foster homes I lived at, their son, Kurt Shelton, now plays for the Boston Celtics.”
“No shit.” He dribbles the ball, watching me.
“How about you?”
He flips the hair from his face. “I played all through high school.”
“No way!” I can’t believe it. He doesn’t seem like the jockish type. “Did you play any other sports in school?”
“Nah, Steel was the one into sports, football, soccer, baseball, but I think he let me have basketball. It’s the one sport he never did.” He smiles, and his eyes come to life with a sparkle I’ve never noticed before. Makes me want him more.
Well, hell, it’s been over a year since I’ve had sex. A year! When I first showed up in Cali, I met Crash, and right from the start, I felt nothin’ for him. He’s more like one of my cool foster care brothers. I guess I could’ve gone after the tattooed, ex-boxer Token, or the risqué’ dark-haired stuntman, Steele, or the sexy computer geek, Nix. All five Kane brothers were single when I first got here, and they’re all hot. But no, even back then, my body only responded to one Kane brother, and he’s the damn enemy! I’ve always known it. From his messy long hair, beard, and desolate eyes right down to the damn leather bracelet he wears on his left arm, it’s always been Stone’s body I’ve craved, and after a year of denial and a sudden change of circumstance, he’s no longer the asshole who stole my sister from me. Now things are different, and my body thinks it’s okay to want him naked in bed with me.
“You guys are close?” I know the history. Stone and Steel have a different mother than the other Kane siblings. Story goes that their mom was found dead in a pool of blood in the bathtub. Stone was locked inside with her. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but one thing is for sure, both brothers refuse to talk about it.
“Yeah.” He nods, setting the ball under his arm. I follow the muscles along his sculpted, tattooed arms and notice the slight tremor in his hand. Oh my God! What if he’s going through withdrawals right now? What if that’s why he’s out here in the middle of the night? Maybe he’s trying to keep his mind off his addictions?
My eyes snap back to his. “Were you any good at basketball?”
“I was okay. Not good enough for a scholarship or anything, so that’s why I went into the Army. I thought it’d be a better fit.”
“And was it?”
He stares at me as if not really seeing me for a few seconds. Then he tosses the ball in the air, and when it lands back in his hands, it’s as if it snaps him out of his faraway thoughts. “How about best of five?”
“Okay.”
I set myself up for the game, and after a half hour of our sweaty bodies slamming into each other and with the tie breaker in the end, I stumble over the ball and let the ground break my fall. The concrete tears up my knee, and I let out a scream. Stone gets to me before my body is vertical with the ground.
“Jaggs.” He turns me, giving me a quick once-over. “You okay?” He touches my arms and legs. “Anything feel broken?”
“No.” I grit between my teeth, wishing the sting in my knee would go away so I could appreciate the feel of his hands all over my body. I’m ridiculously desperate!
“You sure?” He checks my face for a response prior to scooping me up into his arms.
“Yes. I’m fine! You can put me down!” I fib, enjoying the feel of my body in his arms. Damn, he really is as strong as he looks.
“Okay.” He ignores my demand while he manages to get the back door open. “Let me take a look at you first.” He sets my ass on the counter. “Is that okay?” I nod, and he releases me, his attention dropping to my knee. “I’m going to check the bathroom for something to clean that out with.”
“It’s just a scratch,” I try to argue.
“It could have stones and shit in it. Don’t want it to get infected. Stay there.” He disappears down the hall.
I glance at the huge bloody scrape on my knee. Oh, now that’s sexy! It looks like I fell off my bike!
“Found some peroxide.” He raises the bottle as he comes back into the kitchen. I feel the sting already.
“I think it’s fine.”
He grabs a paper towel off the rack, soaks it with the peroxide, and gently dabs my open skin. My hands fist. He bends down for a closer look as he delicately cleanses the wound, checking my facial expressions with each touch. Waving his hand over the area to air-dry it, he watches me. “Does that hurt?”
I shake my head, the sincere concern in his voice crushing me from the inside out. Why is he being so nice to me? This isn’t the reclusive, angry Stone Kane I remember. Not the man I’ve tried to overlook for the past year. “You should hate me,” I reply in a weak whisper, embarrassed by the way I’ve treated him.
“I don’t hate you,” he says as he places a Band-Aid over the ugly wound.
“Why not? I held you responsible for my sister’s death. I hated you,” I say, trying to make eye contact.
“I know.” He tosses the paper towel and Band-Aid wrapper in the trash.
“Why aren’t you being like you were before? You were so mean, so angry. You should be like that, not nice to me. This isn’t you.” I finally catch his eyes.
“You don’t know who I am.” He stands in front of me, confronting my statement.
“You’re right. All I know about you is that you like to play the guitar. Other than that, you don’t seem interested in much else. You don’t even seem to like people. You like to be by yourself? Is that it?”
He moves forward between my legs. “I like being around you.”
“Why?”
He brushes the hair back from my face, reminding me how gentle his hands can be while hypnotizing me with his steady touch. “When I first saw you, when I realized why you showed up in my life, unlike the rest of my family, I instantly learned a few things about you. You’re strong, determined, and you would do anything for the people you love. It might’ve taken some time for Crash to trust you, for my mom and other siblings to fall for you, but I knew right away what kind of person you were, and while you were hating me, I was admiring you.”
The sting in my knee moves to my eyes. What the hell? How can he say that to me? How can he make me want him and be mad at him all at the same time? I lied to him. I thought him a monster. I hated him, and he acts as if this whole time he gave me permission to do it. Like he approved of my betrayal to his family all the while betraying me! He knew he wasn’t the one to blame, but he let me hate him! Now that I think about it, he stole my revenge!
I stare deeper into his…No! Don’t fall for those dark tawny eyes. He’s not a good person. Let’s not forget where I found him a few nights ago. He’s an addict. I know all about his kind of people, they leave little kids and babies alone in the park at night and forget about them. They ruin children’s lives by leaving them to fend for themselves in this big, cruel world. Yes, I know all about his kind.
The first time I met him, he was drunk off his ass and high on something. He’s damaged goods, and two damaged goods will never equate to anything. I can’t fall for him.
“Listen.” I press my hand against h
is shoulder to push him back. “I can’t get involved with you, especially when you’re still using. So for your family and the shit I’ve put you through this past year, I’ll help you the next week or so, but then, we move on. Okay?”
“Sure,” he says with a small smile. “But like I said”—his jaw clenches—“you don’t know me.”
“I know you were high the other night. I know you were high when I met you in Ohio. I know your family thinks you haven’t used in over three years, and I’m not going to be the one to break their hearts like you won’t be the one to break mine.” I hold my breath, not backing down from his heavy leer.
“Fair enough,” he says in his low gravelly voice. Damn, the sound weakens my resilience! “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”
“Trying what?”
“Trying to get you to see the real me and not the high me or the man who killed your sister. I’m not going to stop until you see me, and hey, I’m not saying he’s worth very much, but this guy, the real me, he’s ready to finally take his chance on something.” He grips the back of my neck and pulls me to him. “And I’m sorry, babe, but that something has turned out to be you.” His lips gently descend upon mine, delivering one of his breathtaking kisses.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next couple of days go along without a hitch. I stick to the bedroom on the first floor, and Jaggs stays true to the reason she believes she’s here by keeping me busy with every game Eddy has in the house, along with trying new recipes and playing midnight basketball. Nights are the worst for me. It’s when the past comes to me in color, and there’s a lot of red.
The guys are coming today. I like Trigger. We’ve been friends since grammar school. But Derrick didn’t come into the picture until high school, and he’s always looking to one-up me. Me, I could give a shit if he’s better than me. I lost my ego back in Iraq. Four tours of survival will do that to a guy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still competitive, and I like a challenge now and then. Like this week being alone with Jaggs under the same roof. That shit was challenging. Now I gotta share her with the guys. Not all of her, of course, but allowing those fuckers to have any part of her pisses me off. She’s been mine for a year. At least, she belonged to me in my head. Besides, I invited her here, right? The truth is, I forced her to come ’cause let’s face it, that’s what I did. Short of outing her to my family, I left her no choice. The why, well, fuck, I think I’m finally figuring it out.
STONE (Daring the Kane Brothers) Page 5