Love & Ruin (The Love & Ruin Series Book 1)

by J. A. Owenby

  “Hang on, man,” Hendrix said into his phone. “Gemma, are you leaving? Let me walk you back.”

  “Yeah, I gotta run,” I replied anxiously. “You don’t need to go with me, it’s not dark yet.” I gave him a small wave and darted out the door.

  The second I was out of the studio, my survival instinct kicked in, overruling any logic, and I hauled ass out of the building.

  “Gemma!” Hendrix called after me as my feet pounded down the sidewalk. I ignored him and kept running.

  Chapter 9

  My arms pumped at my sides as I ran across campus, the semi-darkness of twilight hindering my visibility. I knew it was irrational to bolt out of the studio like a lunatic. I'd need to come up with a good excuse for Hendrix later. Just as I rounded the corner of the building next to my dorm, I slammed into someone. My body reeled backward, and I landed with a hard thud on my ass. A sharp pain stabbed my side as I peered up at the person I’d run into. I froze. The survival instinct I'd relied on for four years had just led me to my personal hell.

  Nausea swelled inside my stomach while Brandon kneeled down next to me.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry, Gemma?” he asked, his words like ice in my veins.

  “You’re not supposed to be near me,” I choked out.

  “No, you’re not supposed to be around me,” he said, sneering.

  And yet I’d managed to land right in front of Brandon. What the hell? I frantically looked around me, but the only people I saw were far away.

  His hands gripped my shoulders, his bony fingers digging into my skin. He jerked me into a standing position, a startled squeal escaping me.

  “Screaming won’t help you. As you can see, there’s no one around.” He laughed.

  “Why?” I stuttered. “Why would you put a restraining order on me? You know I’m not the one harassing people.”

  He laughed as he pulled me forward and around the corner to the back of the building, completely out of sight. My eyes brimmed with tears while he slammed my body against the wall and his hand covered my mouth.

  “Maybe you’re more stupid than you look,” he said, his breath tickling my cheek. “The restraining order is to cover my ass from any lies you might try to spread about me. You know, any bullshit about rape or assault. As far as the cops are concerned, you’ve harassed me. So after I’m balls deep in your tight pussy, who would ever believe I’d hurt you? Besides, I know you want me pumping in and out of you. And I can’t wait to get under those ugly, baggy clothes and see what you’re hiding.” He shoved his hips into me, his erection pushing against his jeans.

  I screamed against his hand, but only muffled cries came out. His hand cupped my breast through my clothes, my nipple betraying me, hardening against his touch.

  “Told you. I knew you wanted me.” He slid his hand beneath my shirt, his fingers brushing my bare skin. His body pinned me against the side of the building, and my brain scrambled for a way to get him off me. The bricks bit into my skin and broke through the thick wall of fear. My fingers slipped cautiously into the pocket of my jeans, and I pulled out my pepper spray. He was too involved with kissing my neck and grinding against me to even notice.

  The next thing I realized, his fingers slipped into my bra and pinched my nipple. I yelped against his hand as the pain shot through me. Without thinking, I stomped on his foot. He automatically stepped back, and I took my chance, pushing him away and gaining several feet between us. I raised my arm, sprayed him in the face, and turned my head away quickly, trying to avoid any of it myself.

  “You bitch!” he yelled, clawing at his eyes and walking backward, coughing.

  Without hesitation, I bolted around the corner and ran toward the dorm. I’d been so damned close to safety when I’d run into him. My tears stung, the remnants of the spray burning my eyes. I’d been so terrified I’d not realized I’d caught a little bit of it myself.

  I took two stairs at a time and hurried into my dorm as the burning intensified. I struggled to see through the tears and find the main floor bathroom. Hugging the wall, I managed to find it and slipped through the door, groping for a sink. The squeak of the faucet handles broke the silence of the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face. It didn’t help. Smacking my hand against the sink, I recalled water didn’t help remove pepper spray. My jaw clenched, and the real tears started while the horror sank in, my skin pebbling with goosebumps as I realized how close he’d gotten to me. His hands on my bare skin.

  Before I knew it, I was crouched over the toilet, the contents of my dinner rushing out of my stomach. I puked until there was nothing left. My head rested on the toilet seat, and I gasped for air as my body shook with sobs. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, hugging the toilet before it dawned on me; I needed to call Mac. Fumbling for my phone, I attempted to see through the haze and tapped her number on my screen.

  “Yo, bestie, you ready to come back? Where you at? I’ll meet you.”

  “Mac.” My throat cracked with emotion.

  “Gemma? Are you okay?” she asked, her tone hiking up in pitch.

  “I’m in the bathroom on the main floor of our dorm. I need your help,” I whispered.

  “Fuck. On my way, but don’t hang up. I’m on my way. What happened? No, it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me yet. I’m running down the stairs now. You don’t sound good. You’re scaring me. Say something, dammit.”

  “I can’t. You won’t shut the hell up.”

  “Oh my God. You’re okay,” she said loudly while she released a nervous laugh.

  Her voice burst through the bathroom door as it sounded through the phone at the same time.

  “I’m hanging up, now.” My phone clattered to the tile floor.

  Footsteps echoed across the bathroom and then she spotted me.

  “You’re sick?” She knelt down, inspecting me. “Take that ugly ass hat off for shit’s sake.”

  I remained still as she removed my hat. My head hung down, and I took my glasses off and peered at her.

  “What the hell?” she gasped.

  From her reaction, I’d caught more of the pepper spray than I’d realized.

  “Brandon,” I croaked. “Pepper spray.”

  “Jesus help me. The motherfucker,” she spat.

  She stood and wrapped her arm underneath one of mine and helped pull me to my feet.

  “Hang on, let me guide you to the sink. We need to get to a nurse or—wait. I have baby shampoo. We have to rinse your eyes out. I’ll be right back. No, come with me. No, wait. Dammit!”

  Although my vision was blurry, I didn’t miss Mac starting toward the door and coming back to me multiple times as she tried to decide what to do. If the circumstances hadn’t sucked so much, it would have been comical.

  “Go, I’ll hang out here,” I assured her.

  “Right!” She hurried out the door.

  I’m not sure how fast she could run, but she returned faster than I’d anticipated.

  “Okay, this won’t feel good, but it’s all we can do for now.”

  I nodded and let her help me.

  * * *

  “Oh my God. Are you okay?” Mac sat next to me on my bed and examined my face.

  I covered my face with trembling hands and crumpled backward against the wall.

  “Oh, Gemma,” Mac whispered and wrapped her arms around me while I cried.

  My stomach suddenly cramped, the sour taste of bile rising in my throat. I bolted off the bed and barely made it to the trash can before I dry heaved, Brandon’s face sneering at me the second my eyes closed. When I was sure I was finished, I climbed back in bed.

  “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker,” she muttered, stroking my hair, attempting to calm me. “And wait till I tell Hendrix.”

  I straightened and stared at her with swollen eyes.

  “You. Can. Not. Tell. Him. Mac! You don’t even know what happened.”

  “Yeah, I do. The only reason Brnadon didn’t rape you is because you got away.”
/>
  I had no response because she was right.

  “At least you remembered the pepper spray, though. How are you feeling?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know,” I mumbled embarrassed. “What are the chances I’d run into Brandon? Like what the hell, Mac?”

  “Dammit, Gemma. Why were you even alone? Why didn’t you call me like we talked about?” Mac asked, bouncing on my bed as she tucked her feet beneath her.

  “I panicked. Shit, I was so stupid.” I covered my face with my hands as the earlier events played through my mind; Brandon pushing against me, his hot breath on my neck, the sheer terror that ripped through me. “We were at the studio and Hendrix got a call. I’d totally lost track of time, so when I realized it was almost dark, I bolted and ran. We weren’t far away—” My words trailed off.

  “Wait, back it up a minute,” Mac said, pointing at me. “What were you doing at the studio? I thought you were meeting at the library.”

  A heavy sigh shook my body. “He wanted me to hear a new song he’d recorded.”

  Mac gawked at me.

  “Holy hell,” she muttered after I updated her about the music and Hendrix wanting me to sing with him.

  “Somehow, and it’s just a guess—I don’t think hell can be holy.”

  “Ugh, you’re so...so logical sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at me, her lower lip jutting out slightly.

  “Are you pouting right now?” I asked incredulously, trying not to rub at my burning eyes. "I was attacked tonight, and you're focusing on petty details?”

  “No. Shit, maybe. Like what the hell happened tonight?” She tossed her hands up in surrender, staring at me.

  My attention remained on her while she processed her emotions. She was trying to digest everything like I was.

  “You sang with him on a new song?” she asked, peering at me.

  I nodded. I’d gotten used to her jumping from one topic to the next.

  “And?” She leaned toward me, waiting for my response.

  “It’s a beautiful song and he’s—musically, he’s amazing. I...”

  “You what?” she asked eagerly.

  “I’m starting to consider him a friend.” My neck and ears flushed, remembering the soft touch of his hand and how it was the exact opposite of Brandon’s.

  “Friend?” Mac burst into laughter. “Gemma, come on now. Hendrix likes you.”

  “No. You’re wrong. It’s the music, that’s all.”

  “Oh Gemma, what am I going to do with you?” she asked, smacking herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand.

  “You know what? Fine,” I said, my nostrils flaring with sudden irritation. Sometimes Mac pushed too much, especially tonight after my encounter with Brandon. I needed to shut this shit down now. “Let’s play with this for a minute.” I inhaled sharply, suddenly secretly grateful for the distraction.

  “Fine,” she said, copping an attitude and folding her hands over her chest.

  “Facts only, no emotion.” I’d found if I set parameters, Mac stayed more focused.

  “Agreed.” Her eyebrows rose as she waited for me. We were going head to head, determined to prove the other wrong. I would never admit it, but Mac had crossed the friendship line and was more like my sister now.

  “Here are the facts, Mac. I wear an ugly hat, oversized clothes, and tinted glasses. He has no idea what I really look like, so there’s no way he’d be interested in what he can’t see. Guys are visual. They want a gorgeous blond, boobs, and a curvy ass. Fact, Hendrix is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, which means he’s used to having girls fall all over him. I won’t do that. Fact, he can sing a girl right out of her clothes, but not me. He can’t even see past mine. So why in the hell would you think he’s interested in me other than for my voice and as a friend?”

  Mac’s lips pursed together, and her expression grew stern.

  “Fact, he’s my brother, and I know him better than anyone else. Fact, he’s not a shallow douchebag that just wants to get laid. He actually cares about people, and I don’t appreciate you insulting him, implying he’s only after a quick piece of ass. Fact, he can have any girl he wants, but I saw him grab your phone and put his number in it. You’re the girl he’s singing with and spending studio time with. Do you have any idea how much he pays for studio time? A. Fucking. Lot. So if he wrote this song and wanted you to hear it, it’s because you inspired him. There’s something about you that’s different than anyone else he’s ever met, and he likes everything about you. Please don’t insult him again to me. He’s not shallow.” She hopped off my bed, opened the door, walked out, and slammed it behind her.

  I was left sitting on my bed with my mouth hanging open. What the hell had just happened? Had I really insulted Hendrix to his sister?

  My heart sank as I realized I’d done exactly that. I snuggled into my bed, pulled the covers up over my head, and cried myself to sleep.

  * * *

  The aroma of coffee tickled my nose the next morning. Although I rarely drank it, I loved the smell, and it always reminded me of home with Mom and Dad.

  Bleary-eyed, I sat up and rubbed my face. A chill shot through me when the memory of Brandon’s assault the night before came rushing back. As soon as I saw Mac place a cup of coffee on my desk, a shy smile on her face, my fear immediately subsided.

  “How ya doing?”

  Unable to form any words yet, I reached for the coffee and took a sip. “Okay, after some sleep.” I searched her face to see if she was still angry with me.

  “I’m sorry,” we said in unison.

  I smiled at her while she sat down on her bed and sipped her coffee. “It was a shit day yesterday, and I didn’t mean to imply Hendrix was an asshole like Brandon. I just think you’re mistaken about him being interested in me for anything more than my singing.”

  “I know.” She twirled her newly braided hair around her finger. “He likes you, Gemma. Some guys want more than a hot body. They want some substance, even the hot ones.”

  My cheeks warmed. “I don’t have a lot of experience with guys, Mac. I—I don’t even know how I feel about him except he’s been kind to me.”

  “He’s kind because it’s who he is. I don’t know if it was everything with Kendra or what, but he’s—” She stopped mid-sentence.

  “Who’s Kendra?” I asked, my brows pulling together in confusion.

  “Shit. I shouldn’t have let it slip.” She smacked her hand over her mouth.

  I leaned forward on my bed and assessed her. Whatever it was, she’d slipped up big time.

  “Kendra?” I asked, impatiently motioning for her to fill me in.

  “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry! I hate when someone does that to me. Hendrix would kill me. You’ll need to talk to him.”

  She cringed and leaned against the wall.

  “I get it. I guess I’ll talk to him about it myself.”

  My phone buzzed, interrupting our conversation. I picked it up quickly.

  “Dad? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, honey. I’m fine, just tired, and I wanted to say hi.”

  “Guess it has been several weeks since we’ve really talked,” I said, biting my lip, guilt washing over me. I’d had no idea he was ill when I left. I would have never made it to Spokane if he’d told me. “How’s mom handling you being sick?”

  A soft chuckle answered me. I couldn’t help but smile. I missed him. As long as he kept his religious beliefs to himself, I could deal with him and enjoy our conversations.

  “You know your mother, fixing everything she can. The house has been cleaned with organic cleaners. Our laundry detergent has been changed, wool balls for dryer sheets, organic food, shampoo, and even shaving cream. She’s convinced it’ll help.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I envisioned mom tossing all the products saturated with chemicals into the trash. I glanced at Mac, embarrassed to be on such an emotional overload around her over the last twenty-four hours.

  “She’s a ball of action when t
he shit hits the fan, huh?”

  He laughed in agreement.

  “Well, tell me how things are going. How’s Washington? Do you like it? Have you settled in okay?”

  “I do like it,” I replied. “It’s very different. It's beautiful, and the people are nice. My classes are packed and huge, but it’s okay. And─my roomie is pretty damned awesome. Her name is Mackenzie. We all call her Mac, though. I’m friends with her and her brother, Hendrix.”

  “Hendrix?” he asked, without skipping a beat.

  I didn’t miss the tone in his question.

  “We’re just friends, Dad. I have some news,” I said, changing the topic. “I’m singing a little bit again.” I held my breath, waiting for his response. I hadn’t even told Ada Lynn yet.

  Mac’s bed squeaked, and I glanced up at her. She was at full attention and eavesdropping on my conversation. I shot her a dirty look and pointed toward the door. She shook her head no.

  “You are? I wasn’t sure if you would again. I’m—I’m speechless.”

  “Is it a good speechless?” I asked and motioned for her to get out again, staring at Mac until she got up and left the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on the other side of the door with her ear pinned against it.

  “You’re an incredible singer, and my heart broke when you stopped, but I understood why.”

  “It’s amazing actually, like I’ve come back home in a way. I’m not sure if it makes any sense.”

  “It does. And, I couldn’t be happier. Although I don’t agree with how you left, Gemma—I understand. You have your mom’s, Ada Lynn’s, and my full support in making it work there. In fact, now that I’ve had some time to think about things, I agree with Ada Lynn. Don’t come back unless you have no other choice. Not for a while at least.”

  “Dad?” I hiccupped through the tears that had slipped silently down my cheeks. “You know I’m on the first bus home if you need me. All you have to do is pick up the phone and say the words.”

  “I know, honey. I don’t think it will come to that. Try not to worry.”

  “You promise you’ll tell me if it does?” I wiped the tears away, my nose growing stuffy.