Right Kind of Wrong

by Chelsea Fine

  I quickly fill her in on the Jack-and-Jenna events of the last few days, leaving out the guns, stab wounds, and other bloody details, and sticking with just the sexy kissing stuff.

  “And… that brings us to today,” I say. “I don’t know what to do, Pix. Or what to say to him. Like, do I apologize or do I just play it off, or what?” I start picking at the bedspread.

  “Huh.” She’s quiet for a long second. “Jenna… is there something you’re not telling me?”

  I drop the bedspread, adrenaline spiking my veins. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I mean… I know I said you and Jack have weird sexual tension, but it’s more than that. You and Jack seem to be close. Really close. Like, closer than your typical girl-boy friendship.”

  “So?” I snap. And shit, I said that too quickly and way too forcefully. She’s going to know.

  “So?” she mocks, then starts laughing. “Oh my God. Jenna Lacombe, you slept with Jack, didn’t you?”

  I sigh into the phone. “Yeah.”

  More laughter. “Holy wow. When?”

  I frown. “Last winter.”

  Her voice rises in pitch. “And you never told me?!”

  “No,” I say, then quickly add, “but only because I wanted to pretend like it never happened. And I knew if I told you, you would make a big deal about it and then I’d have to address it with Jack and blah, blah, blah. I just wanted to avoid all that. I swear it wasn’t because I was trying to hide it from you.”

  “No, no. I get it.” I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. “But… why did you want to pretend it never happened?”

  I pause, debating if I should tell her the ugly truth. But then I think about all the ugly truths Pixie has let me in on—and she’s had some ugly truths in her past—and I realize there’s no way I can’t confide in her.

  I take a deep breath. “Because… I cried.”

  “You cried?” She pauses. “Like, afterward in the bathroom because you forgot to use a condom and thought you might be pregnant?”

  “What—no!” I stare at the phone. “Sounds like you did, though.”

  “Don’t change the subject. When did you cry?”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Uh, during sex. Like right in the middle of it. When I was on top of him.”

  “Whoa.”

  “I know.”

  “So why did—how come—what made—?” She’s lost for words. I know the feeling.

  “I don’t know, Pixie.” I tip my head back and groan at the ceiling. “We were having this hot delicious sex, and then Jack said my name, and I suddenly got all emotional. I started thinking about how great Jack is and how he always makes me laugh and never lets me down, and how I trust him more than anyone else in the world… God, it was sappy in my head. But I couldn’t stop caring about him, you know? I was looking down at him and thinking about how great he is. Then I just started crying like a weirdo, tears running down my face—and I kept riding him.”

  “Whoa.”

  “I know.”

  “Did he totally freak out?”

  “No!” I say. “That’s the weirdest part. He just went with it. He pulled me down and kissed me and stroked my hair and whispered in my ear and shit, until I was all turned on again.”

  “Damn,” she says with a heavy exhale. “Well this changes everything.”

  “What? No. It shouldn’t change anything. Nothing is changed.”

  “Okay, calm down. I wasn’t talking about your life. I was talking about your issues with Jack. This changes what I think about your conversation with him.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I relax on the bed. “Carry on, then. What do you think about what Jack said last night?”

  “I think he’s right about you trying to control things.”

  I gasp. “Traitor.”

  “Think about it. You are pretty weird about your future. I mean, you couldn’t even handle me saying ‘this changes everything’ a second ago. Change is not your friend, Jenna. And as far as him saying you’re afraid to have him, well… I think he’s right about that too.”

  “Maybe you should be besties with Jack then.”

  “Listen. You’re the one who told me not to be afraid to love when everything was happening with Levi. Remember that? You said love isn’t safe and life isn’t guaranteed, and that I needed to let Levi in?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Did I say all that? Crap.”

  “I’m just saying that maybe you should give Jack a chance. See where it goes.”

  “I know where it goes,” I snap. “It goes from love to marriage to babies to divorce to loneliness to poverty to death.”

  “Wow,” she says blandly. “That might be the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “That’s the truth, Pix.” I pick at the bedspread again. “Happily ever after is for romantic comedies and fairy tale books.”

  She huffs. “Is that what you think is going to happen to me and Levi?”

  “What? Of course not,” I say. “You guys are going to be together forever. Levi loves you madly.”

  “And who’s to say you won’t be loved like that someday?” she says. “Maybe even by Jack?”

  I grumble into the pillow. “Stop twisting my words around.”

  “Stop being a baby.”

  “I’m not a baby.”

  “Yes, you are,” Pixie says. “You’re a big fat chubby baby with control issues.”

  I snort. “Oh yeah? Well you’re a big fat meanie.”

  “Fine. But I’m a meanie who loves you and knows that some great guy is going to love you madly and give you the happily ever after you never wanted.”

  I scoff. “This conversation is not going the way I’d imagined.”

  I can hear the smile in her voice. “I love you too.”

  After hanging up with Pixie, I exit Jack’s room and head for the kitchen. On my way there, I pass the bathroom and glance inside. The trash can is brimming with bloody cotton swabs and bandages, and there are smudges of blood on the floor. I understand now why Samson was freaked-out.

  Rounding the hallway, I walk into the kitchen where Lilly and Samson are sitting at the table, eating bacon and omelets, while Jack has his back to me at the stove where he’s cooking something I can’t see. He has a shirt on this morning so I can’t see the bandage on his back, but hopefully I did a decent job of cleaning him up last night.

  “Good morning, darling.” Lilly smiles at me brightly.

  Jack glances over his shoulder and our eyes meet in a silent truce. We don’t want to be awkward around one another. We don’t want there to be uncomfortable tension. Our friendship is more important than our disagreement on whether or not we should be getting naked with each other whenever we feel like it. So as we lock gazes across the kitchen, there’s a peaceful understanding between us. No hard feelings or repressed anger. We’re good, like usual. We’re always good.

  I smile. He smiles. Then he goes back to cooking.

  That’s the thing about Jack and me. We’re always good. Even when we’re fighting, we’re still friends. I wasn’t lying last night when I said I didn’t want to lose him. Jack’s friendship is one of the most important things in my life. But after all the bloody madness of last night, I have a feeling I’m going to lose him anyway, one way or another.

  I honestly don’t know what to think. His family is clearly tied up in some shady undertakings, but oddly enough that doesn’t frighten me—beyond Jack getting hurt, of course. If anything, it just makes me more curious about who the real Jack is.

  “Morning.” I smile back at Lilly and nod at Samson.

  “You want an omelet?” Lilly asks.

  I pull out a chair. “Uh…”

  “Jenna doesn’t like eggs,” Jack says, his eyes still on the frying pan.

  “Oh.” Lilly looks surprised. “I thought that’s why you were making breakfast for us, because we have a guest.”

  “No, Mom.” He flips something in the frying pan. “I’m making
breakfast because no one in this house cooks and I thought you needed a hot meal for a change.”

  Lilly winks at me. “Jack’s always trying to take care of me. You’d think he was the parent with all the fussing he does.” She takes a sip of coffee. “But he’s right. I’m a lousy cook. Samson and I live off of microwave dinners and takeout.”

  “The picture of health,” Jack mutters from the stove.

  Then he comes to sit at the table with a plate of pancakes—my favorite—and slides one onto a plate for me before putting one on a plate for himself.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly, appreciating the fact that he knows me so well and cares about me even more.

  “Nice knuckles,” Lilly says, eyeing Jack’s bandaged hands. “Do I want to know?”

  He stabs a bite of pancake. “Probably not.”

  Lilly considers this for a minute. “Did anything helpful come of it at least?”

  It’s interesting that Lilly seems to be in on everything, or at least aware that her boys are involved in some seriously shady activities, and isn’t fazed. This must be the norm for the Oliver family.

  Jack shrugs. “I guess so.”

  She sets her mug down and goes back to her omelet. “Then I guess it was worth it.”

  At her words—an exact repeat of my words last night—Jack and I lock gazes. I can’t explain what I see in their gray depths. Maybe trust. Maybe fear. It’s hard to tell with my heart beating so fast. But it seems that Lilly and I feel the same way about Jack beating bad guys to a pulp, and I’m not sure what that says about me.

  “Trixie called me this morning,” Samson says, taking a bit of bacon. “And said that Sasha called her last night after you dropped Hedrick off all black-and-blue at their house.”

  “Ugh.” Lilly shakes her head. “Trixie. Sasha. Hedrick… It’s like you find all your friends at brothels.”

  Samson glares at her then turns to Jack. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened to Hedrick? And maybe why the bathroom looks like a vampire’s pantry?”

  Lilly nods at her omelet. “Hedrick would be a great vampire name.”

  Samson flashes his mother a fake smile. “And Lilly sounds like it should belong to a four-year-old girl with blonde pigtails who lives under a rainbow.”

  Lilly grins at him. “I know.”

  Jack interrupts with a dark look. “I went to talk to Hedrick last night and tussled with some Royals. Long story short, the Royals were taken care of and I found out that Drew made a deal with Clancy.”

  Samson sucks in through his teeth and Lilly’s happy countenance falls completely.

  “Don’t worry,” Jack says, more to his mom than to Samson. “I’ve got a plan.”

  His eyes steel over, fear and anger marring their silver depths. But something else shines inside too. Something that looks a lot like sadness. And worry.

  I have the sudden urge to throw my arms around Jack and wish the sadness away, especially since I have no idea what’s going on or why Jack looks so—so defeated.

  Lilly squeezes Jack’s arm. A comforting gesture. Meant to console. An action that would make total sense—if it were Jack trying to console his mother, and not the other way around. But Lilly seems to feel the need to comfort Jack.

  Samson shakes his head and mutters, “Shit,” as he stares at the table.

  Jack pats his mother’s hand before gently shrugging away from her reach and loosening his shoulders. “Don’t worry. I know Clancy and I know Drew, so this whole thing is going to work out. Okay?” His voice is lighter now, optimistic; probably more for his family’s sake than for his, but it replaces the heaviness in the kitchen with hopefulness and the shift is so palpable I almost feel lighter.

  “Okay, baby.” Lilly smiles.

  Samson goes back to eating bacon as a breeze blows in through the open front door, and through the screen door I watch the many wind chimes strung from the roof sway with the wind that carries their happy lilt into the kitchen.

  Lilly inhales. “I need a smoke.” She gets up from her chair and Jack lifts a brow.

  “I thought you quit smoking?” he says.

  “I did.” She nods and starts for the porch. “Which is why I need to make another wind chime.” The screen door squeaks as she pushes through it and sits down at a small table on the porch, where her wind chime supplies are laid out.

  Jack gives Samson a questioning glance and Samson explains, “When she hears the wind chimes clink together, it reminds her that she wants a cigarette, and when she wants a cigarette, she decides to make a new wind chime instead. It’s a vicious cycle, really.” His phone rings and he pulls it out if his pocket and checks the screen. “Be right back.”

  He leaves the kitchen and then it’s just me, Jack, and a pile of pancakes.

  I break the silence first. “Are you mad at me?”

  He frowns. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Because I’m a tease.”

  He smiles at his fork. “You’re not a tease. Not at all. But to answer your question, no. I’m not mad at you. I would never be mad about you not wanting me.” He winks, but the remark still stings.

  “That’s not why I stopped us, and you know it,” I say.

  “I do.” He nods. “The question is, do you?”

  Not wanting to travel down this path again, I finish my breakfast and take my plate to the sink. “Got any more coffee?”

  Jack nods to the coffee pot as he puts away his own dish. I pour us each a mug and follow Jack into the living room where Samson is just now getting off the phone.

  Samson sighs. “That was my boss. Apparently, calling in sick because you get a call that your brother is being hunted by the Royals is frowned upon. I’m on my third strike now at work. We need to find Drew, man. What’s your plan?”

  Jack takes a deep breath. “Since we know Drew is mixed up with Clancy, and Clancy is the leader of the Royals based in the French Quarter, I think our next move is to go down to New Orleans and talk to Clancy. If we can figure out what happened, maybe we’ll get a lead on where Drew is.”

  Samson shakes his head. “I don’t know. The NOLA Royals are bad news. And Clancy?” He lets out a low whistle. “He’s not going to give you shit on Drew. You know that.”

  He nods. “I know Clancy won’t talk, but he might bitch. And if he starts complaining about whatever the hell Drew did or didn’t do then maybe I can figure out what we’re dealing with. So hurry and get dressed so we can grab Mom’s car from Vipers and head down to New Orleans.”

  “Uh, this isn’t Mommy’s Rent-A-Car,” Lilly says through the screen door, holding an unfinished wind chime. “You boys aren’t taking my car to NOLA. I have things to do today.”

  “Yeah, and I have work this afternoon,” Samson says with a frown, holding up his phone. “I can’t risk ditching out again. But we can leave tomorrow.”

  Jack mutters a curse, clearly impatient to get on the road and find Drew.

  “Or Jack can just head down with me today,” I say with a shrug.

  His eyes snap to mine, two gray irises filled with hope and relief. “Really?”

  “Of course.” I nod.

  Samson says, “And I can come down later this week, and in the meantime you can stay with Uncle Brent. He stills lives in NOLA, right?”

  “Yeah, but he’s away for the summer,” Lilly says from the porch as she adds another chime to the project in her hand.

  “Then I’ll stay with friends or something,” Jack says. “Hopefully I can find Drew today and won’t need to stay at all.” He turns to me. “Are you sure you’re okay driving me down? It would be great to get there as soon as possible, but I can hitch a ride or borrow a car if you’d rather be done with all this and go straight home.”

  “I’m sure,” I say. “I’d have to come back here to Little Vail on my way back to Arizona anyway. This way, you’ll already by in NOLA by the time I’m ready to leave and we can just leave from there. And the sooner you find Drew the better,
right?”

  I smile, like my reasoning is totally selfless and has nothing to do with how giddy the prospect of more Jack time makes me.

  I’m so full of shit.

  “All right then.” Jack scans my face. “Thanks.”

  Samson’s phone rings and his eyes light up. “Trixie!”

  “Oh dear Lord…” I can almost see Lilly’s eyes rolling as she shakes her head on the porch.

  Samson leaves the living room as he answers his phone and I look up at Jack. “We can leave whenever you’re ready. I just need to get my suitcases out of the car and change out of these.” I gesture to the large clothes I’m wearing that belong to Jack.

  His eyes fall over me in an endearing way and my heart squeezes.

  “I like you in my clothes,” he says. “You look cute. Little.”

  I roll my eyes. “Any girl would look little in your giant clothes.”

  He shrugs. “But I’ve never seen a girl in my clothes before.”

  “Really?” I eye him suspiciously.

  He nods and the moment suddenly feels intimate. The very clothes on my body feel intimate. I almost feel bad for helping myself to his wardrobe, but at the same time I feel powerful for being the only girl to ever do so.

  Wow. I really do have power issues.

  Desperate to change the subject and get his eyes to stop looking at me in that loveable way, I say, “So it’s morning. Are you ready to tell me what’s going on with your brother and why he has a price on his head? Who are these Royals? And why is everyone freaked-out about this Clancy guy?”

  Jack’s whole body stiffens as he scans my face. “The short answer is that the Royals are enemies of my father’s, in a way. The long answer is a bit more complicated than that. To tell you everything, I’d probably have to start at the beginning—which isn’t pretty.”

  I sit down on the couch and cross my legs under me. “Pretty is overrated.”

  16

  Jack