by L A Cotton
I couldn’t be the one to break away. I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want this to be it. I had just found him and now he was leaving me. But all too soon, Jackson started to untangle my legs from his waist and pulled away, placing one last chaste kiss on my lips, leaving me in a crumpled mess on the floor.
“Ana, we have to keep our distance. You can’t approach me or talk to me. And I will ignore you. You won’t exist to me. I’m so sorry that I dragged you into this shit storm.” His fingers brushed over my jaw as he stared down at me with such reverence that my insides coiled. “I know you still have questions, but I can’t give you answers. Ana Parry…” He drew in a deep breath, regret shining in his eyes. “…in another life I would have stolen your heart and never returned it.”
And just like that, Jackson was gone and my heart broke with realization...
He already had.
Chapter Nine
I was numb. That was the only word to describe the aftermath of discovering Jackson and Pierce were one and the same. Jackson Pierce. The words left a bitter taste in my mouth and an ache in my heart so deep that it made me gasp. How was I supposed to just pretend that we didn’t know each other? Damn him, and damn right, I still had questions. I had them by the bucket load, and I was determined to get answers—once I managed to swallow the recent revelations.
It would have been easy to climb in bed, pull up the comforter, and hide. Block it all out. After all, it was what I had spent the last year doing. But I couldn’t do that now, not with Elena hanging around, checking in on me with her concerned Latina eyes and sympathetic smile. She didn’t even know what was really wrong. I faked another illness to cover for the day that I spent sobbing into my pillow. She thought that I was still cut up about Braiden beating on that guy. If only she knew. That was just the tip of the iceberg.
“Chica, are you feeling any better?” Elena came barreling into the room, both hands full of books. I offered a dismissive nod and carried on reading the dog-eared copy of Othello.
“Everyone is talking about what happened in the cafeteria, everyone. Apparently, the guy needed like thirty sutures and his nose reset. Although that was obvious. Hey, you want to come to Dante’s with me and the guys?”
No, my mind said instinctually, but I couldn’t spiral again. Not here, not now. Sucking in a sharp breath, I choked out, “Sure, why not.”
Elena’s head snapped in my direction, and I could see her surprise. She was beginning to write me off, beginning to realize that I wasn’t like your average college student. “Really?” Her eyes grew wide.
“Yeah. Why not.” I closed the book and pushed myself up off the bed. “I’m feeling better.”
Her frown smoothed and her lips curled up in a smile. “Paul will be stoked.”
“Elena. Nothing’s happening with me and Paul,” I said sternly.
She shrugged, “Whatever you say.”
My eyes rolled up. She had that defiant tone to her voice—Latina attitude—and something told me that she wouldn't take no for an answer.
“Come on, let’s go. I need to get out of here.”
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Dante’s. It was busy for a Wednesday night. Tyson and the guys were already there, sitting in a booth near the pool table. It was a little more crowded than I was prepared for. Paul, Nate, and Jamie were there with another four or five guys who I didn’t recognize. As we approached, Elena greeted the guys like she was one of them. I envied her. Her free spirit. Her social easiness. She was the kind of girl you instantly liked. The kind of girl I was before. Sure, she was a little too much at times, but that was because I wasn’t used to it. Wasn’t used to being around people.
“Guys, my roommate, Ana. Ana, meet the rest of the guys.” The guys nodded, one raking his eyes over me a little too thoroughly. My hands tugged at the drawstring on my black hoodie, pulling it tighter around my neck. Elena had snorted disapprovingly when I made no rush to change out of my ripped jeans, hoodie, and tatty Converse, but dressing up was the last thing on my mind.
Paul glanced at the empty space beside him and smiled shyly. He was a good guy, but not that it mattered. The heart wanted what it wanted, and it seemed that my heart had been captured and ignited back to life by none other than the best friend of the son of the Godfather of Chastity Falls. Why did you pick Chastity Falls, of all the freaking places! It was too late now, what was done was done, I couldn’t just forget about Jackson. I clutched my wrist to soothe the tight pinch of the scar. It was a sign. A reminder that I couldn’t just hide. Not again.
"What's up, Mother Teresa?" Paul mocked as I shuffled in next to him.
"Very funny."
"What were you thinking, Ana? It was Donohue... not just your average college scuffle."
My fingers picked at a beermat, shredding the worn cardboard and trying to focus on not freaking out at the mention of Braiden's name. "I wasn't thinking. But I just couldn't sit by and watch him kill the guy."
My skin bristled as no one tried to correct me. No one made a joke of my comment or tried to laugh it off. No one said a damn word.
"Well, next time look the other way. At least Pierce stepped in so that you didn't have to go through with your hero stunt."
My whole body went rigid at the mention of Jackson. Pierce, he's Pierce to them.
"I think I have two classes with him. What's his story? He seems to keep himself to himself." I was careful not to make eye contact with Paul; I didn't want my face to betray me. I could imagine my eyes flashing with a hint of recognition... or something else. Something I still hadn’t fully acknowledged.
Paul grunted, clearly unhappy that I wanted to know more. "He's a local like Braiden. Didn't hear much about him before he arrived, just that he's Braiden's best friend. They're like adopted brothers or something, and nobody gets to Braiden without going through Pierce yada, yada, yada. If you ask me..." Paul dipped his head bringing his lips to my ear. "I think they're in some kind of secretive bromance. Too close if you know what I mean." He laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at me, but I almost choked on the breath I had just taken.
Something hit Paul and landed on the table. It looked like screwed up beermat. "Dude, stop with the rumors and conjecture," said one of the guys I didn't recognize, before belching loudly.
"Fuck, man. That is gross." The guys laughed and started goofing around while I let myself drift.
Paul had only confirmed what Jackson had already told me. He and Braiden were best friends, like family. Brothers. By the sounds of it, Jackson was the calm to Braiden's hot-headed temper. I had twice now witnessed him talk Braiden down in seconds. Monday in the cafeteria and then at freshmen orientation when Braiden had me pinned against the wall at the party. Braiden listened to Jackson, respected, and trusted him. So why in the hell was Jackson scared of him knowing about me? About us?
Walking to Pauling was like fighting my way through quicksand; my legs heavy and laden. I couldn’t push the image of a torn-up Jackson out of my head. The Jackson who had told me that it would be like I didn’t exist to him. But I couldn’t avoid him forever. We had two classes together and would be in the same room four times a week. That was what I tried to keep ahold of as I pulled open the door and spotted the seat next to mine—Jackson’s seat—empty. A wave of sadness crashed over me, filling every crack in my already fragile shell. He meant it. Jabbing my fingers into my mouth, I chewed frantically to try to swallow the tears as my eyes found him seated in the furthest seat away from me. A couple of students looked up at my late entrance, but Jackson didn’t. He remained focused on the papers in front of him, not even casting a sideways glance. He never even flinched.
That was how the whole class went. No notes, no glances… nothing. It was like I didn’t exist to him—just like he said it would be. But it wasn’t until the professor dismissed the class and Jackson walked right past me and out into the hallway that it hit home. Really hit home that he meant it.
I waited for the rest of the class to leave
, before pulling up my hood and heading for McGinley. It was raining, as if the weather reflected my mood—downright miserable. Except the clouds found their release, lettings their tears fall. I had to keep mine locked away. If I let them out, I feared that they might never stop.
“Whoa, watch it, bitch.” My head whipped up at the person who had walked straight into me as I rounded the corner. Briony’s eyes regarded me as I straightened my bag and met her frosty glare. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I smiled sweetly to match my sickly sweet voice.
“Yeah, well, you really should pay more attention.” Her red curls whipped around in the wind, making her look wild, and I got the feeling that she was referring to more than just bumping into each other on the sidewalk.
“Oh?” Something stirred in me and I refused to be intimidated by the girl in front of me. After all, she was just that. A girl. No one to me.
She stepped closer, so that we were nose to nose. We stood a similar height, but the contrast of her red hair, pale skin, and dark eyes made her dominate the space. “Some things are off-limits to a girl like you. A sad, pathetic girl like you, miles away from home.”
My heart stammered in my chest. Her words had to be a coincidence; there was no way she could know about me. I matched her glare, lifting my chin in defiance. “And you are?”
She said nothing at first, and then a slow smirk spread over her face as she leaned forward almost brushing my lips with her own. “Someone you do not want to cross.” She turned and stepped away from me, but I remained frozen to the spot. Something about the venom in her voice had cut deep. Briony hesitated and then turned back, looking me firmly in the eye. “Stay away from Jax.”
I felt like the wind had been sucked out of me. She knew. And if Briony knew, other people might know. Braiden might know. Jackson’s words rang through my mind, screaming at me.
This was bad… very bad.
By Friday, I knew something wasn’t right. The hushed voices as I entered the hallway, the looks, the muttered comments, and leering glances. It felt like I couldn’t move anywhere on campus without attracting attention. So much for blending. No one said anything to my face, and if Elena had noticed, she didn’t mention anything, but I had been that girl before. The one everyone talked about, watched, and pitied. I had firsthand experience of being a social outcast.
“Pssst, Ana, chica, that guy is totally checking you out.” Elena nodded discreetly in the direction of three guys huddled at a locker across from us. She was right; he was watching me. They all were. It wasn’t overly obvious, but I felt it. I felt their eyes on me. I shrugged, pretty sure Elena was mistaking their interest for something else. “Not interested.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes at me. “You never are.”
We joined the guys at our regular spot in the crowded cafeteria, the evidence of Braiden’s fist handiwork still evident in the red splatters smeared across the wall. Someone had obviously tried and failed to scrub away the blood. I shuddered. No one else seemed affected, but it made me feel sick, right down to the bottom of my stomach.
“You eating that pizza, Ana?” Paul chirped.
I pushed the tray toward him and he dug into the plate, like a guy starved for days. “Pig,” I muttered under my breath.
“So, party at the house tomorrow after the game?”
The guys nodded at Tyson, who I had come to realize was the leader, of sorts, for their group. They were lucky enough to have one of the few houses on campus.
“No girls,” Elena added, planting a huge kiss on Tyson’s lips.
“Babe, it’s a party. Of course, there will be girls. But I’ll only have my eye on one girl.” He squeezed Elena, causing her to shriek with delight.
“Damn right, papi.”
“Get a room, you two. Some of us are reveling in our lonely lives,” Paul joked, but I noticed a flash of something in his eyes as he smiled weakly at me. “I don’t need to-”
All heads turned to the entrance, and I gripped the table edge. I saw only a blur of white, black, and green, my eyes firmly fixed on Braiden… and the person standing next to him. Jackson looked good. In his football jersey and jeans, his hair ruggedly styled, with the usual shadow of slight stubble gracing his jaw.
The atmosphere felt different to Monday. There was an air of expectancy, but it laced with excitement, not the stifled tension it had then. People were waiting for whatever was about to happen, and my eyes tracked Braiden and Jackson as they moved toward an empty table. They moved as a unit; the whole team fluid and coordinated. I imagined it was probably all the team drills and practice. Paul had been right, Braiden led and others followed. Except Jackson, he seemed on almost equal footing, walking side-by-side with Braiden.
As Braiden reached the table, he didn’t drop onto the bench like I had expected him to. Instead, he jumped up onto it and the whole room broke out into feverish cheers. Our table was quieter, but a couple of the guys did clap. Elena sat as wide-eyed as I did.
“CFA, are you ready?”
“HELL YEAH,” a unison of voices shouted, fists pounded onto tables and into the air.
“First home game of the season, the first step to bringing home the championship… CFA, you can do better. ARE. YOU. READY?” Braiden roared, and the whole room shook as tables banged and chairs rattled. The sound filled the vast space, reverberating off the walls creating an overwhelming noise.
Jackson stood arms crossed over his chest, a blank expression on his face. He would have looked more at home running security on the door of some exclusive club. It wasn't until Braiden jumped down off the table and clasped his arm around him that Jackson smiled and relaxed a little.
As if he felt my eyes watching, he turned his head slightly and looked straight through me. Jackson’s gaze had once comforted me and left me breathless, but now? Now, it terrified me. His eyes narrowed almost burning into me and feeling my cheeks start to heat. I dropped my head, breaking our connection, and feeling winded all over again.
Jackson meant every word and intended to live by them.
Chapter Ten
"Tell me again why I have to come today?" I balled up another sheet of paper and threw it at the wastebasket. It missed, landing amongst the pile of other failed projectiles.
"Because CFA loves football and you are a CFA student. Ergo, you love football." Elena didn't lift her eyes from the textbook, but I could sense them rolling in disapproval.
"But I hate football." Actually, I just hated anything that involved large crowds, general excitement, and good times. Especially since I was trying to lay low thanks to my post-Jackson funk.
"Savanah Parry." Elena's head snapped up, her wide eyes glaring in my direction. "Can you please at least try to enjoy college? Try to act like a nineteen-year-old college student? Get drunk, get laid... Get. Out. There."
My head dropped back onto the headboard in defeat, and slamming my eyes shut, I grunted out, "Fine."
I heard Elena clap her hands. The girl was unrelenting—she refused to leave me to mope any longer. Not that I blamed her. She probably had high hopes for her college roommate; parties every weekend, gossiping about cute guys—I doubted her plans included rooming with the damaged girl from Florida.
"So, we'll head over to the game then go straight to Tyson's for the party? Of course, the main party is at Fallen House, but the guys wanted to do something smaller..."
I tuned out. I didn't want to hear about The Fallen or their stupid house or parties. I didn't even want to think about them. About Jackson.
"Ana? You'll dress up, right? Make an effort?" Elena watched me intently, waiting for my answer as I looked down at my standard jeans and hoodie. I didn't know what the big deal was. This was who I was now. Even pre-Jackson, I had rarely made an effort. It was easier to blend—or should have been. However, all week I had had the distinct feeling that I could have walked around in an invisibility suit and still stuck out like a sore thumb. Ana Parry was no longer incognito. All thanks to Jackso
n Pierce.
It should have made me hate him.
It doesn’t.
If I didn't believe before that CFA loved their football, I did now. The campus was a sea of white, green, and black. Even Talia, Cassie, and Lydia were covered head-to-toe in team colors. I had drawn the line at the green sheer blouse that Elena tried to push on me, instead opting for black skinny jeans and a pale green tank. It hugged my curves a little too closely so I threw on a black jacket at the last minute, much to Elena's disapproval. The rain had lifted, and although there wasn't any actual sun and it was pretty cold out, she wanted to 'make the most of the weather'. Her white skirt and black and green shirt did more than that, revealing her trim figure and caramel skin. Lots of skin.
"I'm so excited. First game of the season. Braiden is going to kill it," Cassie almost shrieked, her wide eyes drinking in the crowds.
Or kill someone. The thought crossed my mind, and I immediately scolded myself for going there. "I can't believe there's a football stadium back here," I said as we followed the streams of students heading for the edge of the forest on the opposite side of campus from McGinley.
"It's well-hidden, isn't it? Been here years, though," Talia added, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulder.
"Lowe Stadium is something else; it might be smaller than most college stadiums, but the noise, ahh man, just wait." Paul nudged my shoulder grinning like a Cheshire cat. I stepped to the side, shrugging him off.
"Dude, you sound all googly-eyed and shit," Tyson mocked, his arm hung around Elena's neck as she nestled into his side.
"Nah, man. Just gotta love game day! And I hate to say it, but with Braiden on the team this year, we could kick some serious ass."
I stiffened at the mention of his name. It was my body's instinctual reaction now whenever people talked about him. Which seemed like all the damn time.
