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Spark

Page 11

by J Marie


  “Feeling better?” he asked me as he stopped in front of the bed. I eyed him for a

  moment before answering. It was his damn fault, anyway.

  “Yeah,” I replied, rubbing my eyes. “Just need my meds and some caffeine.”

  “Good,” he said, turning away and heading toward the closet. “You’ve got a busy

  day with Holly today, so you should probably get moving.”

  I gave him a tiny salute even though I knew he couldn’t see me and leaned

  around the bed to find my clothes. They weren’t in the sheets, and they weren’t

  anywhere near the bed.

  “Where are my clothes?” I asked out loud, until my eyes finally came across

  shreds of light pink across the room. A disappointed breath instantly escaped my

  nose. Darren then appeared from his closet, his shirt buttoned and a solid dark blue

  tie on, and handed me a black silk robe.

  “Sorry about your dress,” he said after handing me the robe.

  “No, you’re not,” I countered, unfolding the giant robe and determining how

  much it would swallow me.

  Darren chuckled. “You’re right, I’m not,” he admitted as he rummaged through

  his dresser. I watched him as he placed a dark chrome Rolex on his wrist and

  grabbed his jacket from the chair. Dropping the sheet, I placed my arms through

  the sleeves of the robe and stepped out of bed to tie the belt. The silk was soft and

  cool to the skin. Thankfully, the sleeves only went down to my wrists since they

  were three-quarter sleeves on Darren, but the end of the robe went down to my

  ankles where it would probably stop past his knees. Whatever. I was covered. That

  was all that mattered.

  When Darren turned around to face me, his eyes immediately lit up with

  laughter. I folded my arms and glared at him, but he couldn’t stop the chuckle that

  rolled up his throat.

  “Ha-ha, I know, hilarious. Can we move on, please?” I said, rolling my eyes.

  Darren laughed. “Okay, come on, cupcake. Let’s get you on schedule.” He

  grinned, walking over to me.

  “Now, you’re adding ‘cupcake’ to the list? Can we not?” I grimaced.

  “Would you prefer strawberry shortcake?” he asked with a wide grin. My eyes lit

  up.

  “Would you prefer to die?!” I shot back at him. I was in no mood for jokes this

  morning, and I’d heard that one a million times before. Darren returned that

  dangerous glare of his, lifting an eyebrow, but I was too pissed to care. “Yeah, I

  went there. Get over it,” I snarled and headed for the door.

  I knew I wasn’t getting away with that. Darren quickly grabbed both my elbows

  and yanked me back to his chest, holding me in place while his mouth found the

  side of my neck, his teeth sinking deep into my skin. Pain electrified my skin, and

  for some reason, it traveled straight to my clit. I gasped, my hands turning into

  tight fists as Darren bit down, sucking and gnawing at my skin, setting my clit

  ablaze. He was going to leave one hell of a mark, and maybe that was his intention.

  He released my neck with a jerk but kept me tight in his hold while his erection dug

  into my lower back.

  Way to wake him up, Jaden …

  Darren’s nose trailed up my throat before it rubbed against my ear, continuing

  that slow torturous tingle against my skin.

  “You should know by now,” he drawled through gritted teeth, “what that smart

  mouth of yours does to me. You’ve been cleared to fuck, Jaden, so unless you want

  to spend your days bent over every five minutes, I suggest you keep yourself in

  check. Or I will.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t release the air

  trapped somewhere in my lungs. I was too fucking turned on to even respond to

  that threat. Liquid heat began to pool between my legs as fear and lust mixed to

  create the most poisonous chemical reaction … and that shit raced through my

  veins like heroin. God, what the fuck was wrong with me?

  “Got it, cupcake?” he asked with a jerk.

  “Got it,” I said with a heavy breath.

  “Good girl,” he approved and released me before putting his jacket on. “Now,

  let’s go.”

  Darren placed his hand on the small of my back and led me out of his bedroom.

  We walked down a long hallway that led to the wide marble staircase, which I was

  able to ascend without issue, though it wasn’t as quick as I normally could have.

  When we arrived at my suite, Hank and Blondie obviously waiting for me, Darren

  took me in his arms and held me tightly against his chest. He pressed his face into

  my hair and inhaled, relaxing a little as he did. I liked that I had the power to calm

  him, something he probably hadn’t realized he had given me. I needed to get better

  at controlling that power more than anything. I preferred him calm … and happy.

  He was so warm, sturdy and unimaginably solid. Even with my limp arms around

  him, it felt like he could withstand anything. Just being so close to him, so

  swallowed by his presence, I couldn’t help but feel considerably small. He’d broken

  the bones in my body, and I willingly gave that body up to him last night.

  And here comes the guilt train…

  No, I would not feel guilty for the shit I couldn’t control. I needed to numb

  myself to that emotion. I couldn’t feel guilt for the actions that would contribute to

  my survival … even if it meant the death of others. I wasn’t just trying to save

  myself here. I was trying to eliminate a global threat, and if Darren had thousands

  in his empire, then thousands would die.

  If I wanted to become part of the wolf pack, then I would have to become a wolf,

  even if I was the runt of the litter. The omega was still valuable so long as they

  could prove their worth. And I would, starting with Darren. I had to give him my all

  —no matter how much I hated him, no matter how much it terrified me if the

  result was anything less than absolute death. I had to end this, and in order to do

  that, I had to end myself. I had to leave the dead Jaden behind and take flight with a

  new identity—someone tougher, faster, and smarter. A stronger stomach wouldn’t

  be too bad either.

  Eventually, Darren released me and tipped my chin up with his thumb and

  forefinger, forcing me to look at him. Blue, so much blue, I thought I was

  swimming in it. Those eyes were something else, something dangerous yet so

  fucking mesmerizing. One look from him could melt me to the floor or freeze me in

  place. And I had given him that power. I needed to take it back.

  And then he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft, gentle, nothing invasive or

  possessive. Just sweet simplicity. When he released my lips, he gave me a small

  smile.

  “Have a good day with Holly,” he said. “I’ll see you at dinner.” And then he left

  me standing at the door with Hank and Blondie.

  “Morning,” I said to them as Hank opened the door. For some reason, I felt like

  being nice.

  “Good morning, Miss Jaden,” Hank said to me. Blondie just nodded his head

  slightly.

  “There you are!” shouted Holly in excitement as she jumped up from the

  reading nook.

  “Hey,” I said with a cautious smile as she came over to me. The second
my eyes

  landed on the giant red and purple bruise and butterfly bandage covering the bridge

  of her nose, I felt like the biggest jackass. “Shit, Holly, I’m so sorry,” I said

  regrettably.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” she said, waving me off with a smile. “I’m a fast healer. It’ll be

  back to normal in no time.”

  I nodded. “Well, I’m grateful for your optimism.”

  “Right. Well, come on. We have a busy day ahead of us,” she said brightly.

  Oh, the joy…

  13

  ROUTINE

  F or the next week, I spent nearly every waking moment with Holly, except for the

  occasional mealtime with Darren whenever he had the chance. With Holly’s

  happy-go-lucky attitude, it was hard for me not to punch her in the face again, but

  I was still grateful for her company. I had to give it to her—she was fantastic at

  physical therapy. In a week, I had better strength and mobility in my jaw and wrist,

  and I needed less pain medication for my ribs by the day. I worked my ass off to get

  there, but Holly really gave me the push I needed.

  When we weren’t working on my physical therapy, Holly tried to keep me

  preoccupied with just about everything she could think of. We painted every day

  after lunch, and though it was mundane and pointless, I did it anyway to make her

  and Darren happy. I continued to finger paint, preferring to work with my hands

  instead of the brush. Holly made sure to order paint that was more suitable for my

  style of painting. The colors of my painting would change from time to time, but

  they were usually always dark—purples, reds, blues, and a lot of black. Sometimes,

  I thought I was painting a night sky, but I knew I was only painting the darkness in

  my head, still trying to find the colors within.

  At one point, Holly tried to get me to paint something else—my nails. Ginsby

  had removed the acrylics a long time ago since no one could maintain them on the

  island. My nails had remained bare and, to be honest, a little dull. I didn’t mind

  having polish on my nails; I just didn’t prefer the extra fake shit.

  After lunch, Holly and I sat on the couch in the entertainment room where she

  put on some lame ass romantic comedy while Hank and Blondie got to stand at the

  door. Lucky bastards. She then pulled out a huge basket of nail polish and tools. My

  eyebrows actually shot up. There must have been a hundred colors.

  “I thought we could paint our nails and watch a movie while they dry,” she

  practically beamed.

  I shrugged. “Sure, why not?” Not like I had anything better to do.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had painted my nails, but apparently, I still

  had some skill. I managed not to get a single drop of the light pink polish on my

  skin and even successfully created the perfect striped accent nail on my ring fingers

  with some silver nail tape. I was a little impressed with myself. Holly, on the other

  hand, was skilled in getting more polish on her skin than her actual nails.

  I shook my head at her as she painted on her third uneven coat, and it was

  driving me nuts.

  “Holly, stop,” I said and inched closer to her. “You have to paint slowly and

  gently. Otherwise, it will dry unevenly. Watch how I do it.”

  I took her brush from her hand, dipped it back into the bottle, and easily laid a

  perfect coat over her pinky fingernail without adding to the dried polish on her

  skin.

  “See?”

  “Wow, that looks great,” she beamed, her eyes examining her hand. “Hey,

  maybe you could do the rest!” she suggested.

  I pursed my lips. Dammit, how did I get sucked into that?

  “Sure, but I’ll have to start over. No offense but your base coat looks like shit.”

  Son of a fuck, was I really talking about nail polish right now? Ugh!

  As I removed the shitty coats of polish from her nails, I found myself getting

  more and more irritated with the stupid romantic comedy that Holly kept laughing

  at.

  “Okay. I’m sorry, but I can’t take this anymore,” I said, reaching for the remote

  and searching through the TV options for the sports channel. “If you really want to

  pique my entertainment, you’ve got to walk in my neighborhood.”

  Eventually, I finally found what I was looking for—UFC title fights. Holly

  gasped.

  “You enjoy this barbaric nonsense?” Holly asked in shock. I laughed.

  “It’s not barbaric, Holly. It’s a competitive sport. It’s not like they’re gladiators

  who are forced to fight, you know.”

  “Yeah, but it’s just so … dangerous.” She wore a look of near disgust on her face.

  “So is driving. Imagine if you had a skill, Holly, something you were really good

  at, but you had no way of really putting that skill to use, no way to really benefit

  from it unless certain circumstances finally presented themselves. That’s how it is

  for these fighters. They have so much skill, but no one to use it on unless someone

  attacks them. The cage is their way of proving to themselves that their talents are

  worth something.”

  “Hmmm …” murmured Holly. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Exactly, now watch because this shit … is awesome.”

  W hat a fucking day. After re-negotiating two shipment contracts with the

  Cubans and a heated debate with the Jamaicans about the best water routes to

  take for drop-offs, I’d had more than enough bullshit for the day. At least our

  profits had been through the roof for this past month thanks to the nice little

  report I got from Ron this morning. I was on my way to my office when I heard

  female shouting coming from the entertainment room.

  “Hit ‘em! Hit ‘em! What the hell are you doing?! Move!” I heard Jaden’s voice

  loud and clear and headed over to the entertainment room to find out what she was

  doing. I found Hank and Preston standing beside the doorway watching Jaden cheer

  on some MMA match on TV.

  “What the fuck is she watching?” I asked Hank.

  Hank cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, UFC, sir,” he said with a nod. I almost

  laughed.

  “Watch, watch, watch,” Jaden said to Holly as she pointed at the TV. “Watch

  this kick … boom! Now, that’s talent. Tornado kicks are tough to pull off in the

  octagon.”

  “Wow, you seem to know an awful lot about this stuff,” beamed Holly.

  Jaden shrugged, her focus moving to Holly’s hand as she began painting what

  looked like a second coat onto her nails. I thought I was hallucinating for a second.

  Was Jaden actually painting another girl’s nails?

  “Having fun in here?” I asked aloud as I rounded the couch. Both their eyes

  snapped up to me in surprise at the announcement of my arrival.

  “Mr. Davis,” Holly piped up, while Jaden eyes remained on me as I moved to sit

  down next to her. “Yes, Jaden and I were just watching some old UFC title fights.”

  “Really,” I said, my eyes never leaving Jaden’s. “And are you enjoying the

  fights?”

  “Oh, yes. Very interesting,” Holly replied, that stupid smile never leaving her

  face. “Jaden’s been explaining all the rules of the sport and the moves and

  techniques of the fighters. She knows her stuff,” she said proudly.


  I smirked. She had better know her stuff.

  When Jaden made no comment, I looked down at her hands to notice the bright

  light pink color she had chosen for herself.

  “Pink?” I asked her with a soft smile.

  She gave me a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

  Well, now that was surprising.

  “I like it. You were right in your ability to do your own nails.”

  “I still like Anya and Irina,” she said quickly, her eyes turning up to mine, big

  and hopeful. “I can’t do the acrylics like they can.”

  I sneered at her. “Worried they might lose their value?”

  Jaden formed her mouth into a tight line as she clenched her jaw. “Yes,” she

  said sharply, glaring at me. So fucking cute.

  I folded my arms and leaned back on the couch, watching her with a smile.

  “Don’t worry, Jaden. I have a feeling they’ll be around for a long time as long as the

  rules are followed.”

  “They will be,” she said softly as she proceeded to paint a clear polish over

  Holly’s nails. Her focus was sharp as she slowly dragged the brush down each nail,

  her precision honestly impressive.

  There was no fire today, though. For the last week, Jaden had been nothing but

  quiet, cooperative, and complacent. She’d been working with Holly without

  complaint, didn’t trouble her bodyguards, and was even less argumentative with

  me. Though, from the security feeds around the house, I could still tell how

  annoyed she was with some of the things that came out of Holly’s mouth.

  Unfortunately, Holly wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box, another reason

  she was perfect for this job. She was none the wiser when it came to how easily it

  was to manipulate her. Too gullible, too goddamn innocent, and fucking annoying.

  Her only redeeming quality was that Jaden was ten times better than she was

  two weeks ago. Something had changed, and I didn’t know if it was Holly or

  something else entirely. For once, Jaden finally seemed focused on getting herself

  back together, which gave me even more hope that she was still perfect for me. I

  didn’t want someone who could just hit hard; she had to be able to take the hits and

  keep going. But I had to give her a reason to keep going.

  I stayed and watched some of the fights with Jaden and Holly before I had to step

 

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