by L A Cotton
“Enough!” Dennis said sternly, and I shot him a glance, relieved he was stepping in before I did something I might regret.
Since Braiden had been arrested, things between Kyler and me were not any better, just bearable. But Marcus wanted him around. I didn’t get him to agree to that condition. But the guy was already starting to forget his place on the food chain.
“What? I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. It’s too late. We just have to hope no one gets messed up. I’m heading back into the party.” He spun on his heel and started for the stairs, but I slammed my fist down hard on the table. The guys around the table flinched and Kyler froze.
“Did I say we were done? Get the fuck back over here.”
He turned slowly, eyes narrowed on me. I could tell he wanted to spout some smart-mouthed reply. Instead, he skulked back to his seat and dropped into it without so much as a word.
“No more deals. At least, not the coke. Not until I speak to Uncle Marcus and Maconey.”
The guys groaned, probably mentally adding up their losses. Coke was big business on campus.
“No one drinks tonight. Keep an eye on the regulars. Travis, you see or hear of anything, I want to know immediately. Got it?”
He nodded and rose from his chair and slapped Shaun on the shoulder. “Let’s roll.”
Kyler followed the two of them out of the basement, but Dennis remained seated next to me.
“You’re worried?” he said.
“One guy is in critical condition. This could be bad, very bad. Maconey uses one supplier, and there’s never been an issue before. I fucking hate the drugs, man, you know that.”
Dennis nodded. “Comes with the territory. And if it wasn’t us, it would be someone else.”
That didn’t make me feel any better about it.
“And if someone from Chastity Falls ends up in the hospital, or worse?”
Silence hung between us. What was there to say? If some local kid ended up in the ICU because they snorted something we sold to him, then there'd be no coming back from that. Not for me, anyway.
“Let Marcus handle the what-ifs. Anyway, shouldn’t you be out there with that girl of yours?”
“Ana. You can call her Ana.”
Laughter rumbled from him. “I know. I just like yanking your chain.”
We rose from the table and made our way to the stairs, the beat of the music above reverberating around the room.
“She had a thing with Elena. They should be here soon.”
“And how are things with Ana?” I heard the smirk in his voice. Dennis knew how important she was to me, but that didn't mean he understood it. Few did.
“Strained. We’re both playing our parts, but things aren’t okay. They haven’t been since I told Marcus yes.” I paused at the bottom step and turned back to Dennis. “Did I do the right thing?”
“Time will tell. She has your back; you don’t have to shoulder this alone. You have her. Me. We’re like one big screwed-up happy family.”
Now it was my turn to laugh at the nonsense spewing from his mouth. “And what part do you have in this family?”
“I’m the better looking older brother. Tormented and mysterious. A real box of fucked up.”
I shook my head, smiling at the one guy who had been there for me over the last eighteen months. When shit had turned bad, Dennis had been there, no questions asked. And even though I knew he still felt some responsibility for what went down between Braiden and Cole Calder, I trusted him implicitly. He was the best friend a guy could ask for.
“I've missed you.” I snaked an arm around Ana's waist and drew her back into me, resting my chin on her shoulder. Her body sank into me. Like it was home.
“Hey, Jackson.”
“Elena.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between us. “So I guess I'll go find Tyson and the guys. Thanks for coming with earlier, chica. Don't you two do anything I wouldn't do.” Elena winked before air kissing Ana and sashaying away from us.
Ana turned in my arms and nuzzled my neck. My arms tightened around her waist as I pulled us into a corner of the vast room. It didn't stop people from looking, but it gave me a little more privacy with my girl.
“Some party, huh.” Ana peeked out from her position and scanned the room.
“First one of the year is always the craziest.”
“At least it's not at Dead Man's. I think I prefer it here, if that's possible.”
Tilting her chin with my finger, I said, “It's just you and me. Doesn't matter where we are, or what's going on around us. You and me. Always.”
Ana's lips were warm as I covered them with my own, and I was contemplating dragging her to my old room in the house when a voice boomed, “Pierce, Pierce, get in here. It's O'Hara's senior year. We have to toast that shit and then tie him up outside. Naked!”
The room around us erupted, and I pressed my head to Ana's trying to convey my apology.
“Go, go. It's fine. I'll go find Elena and the guys. Come find me when you're done.”
“I'll be real quick. Promise. I love you.”
“Love you t-”
A chorus of male chanting drowned out Ana, and she started to wave me away from her, but a couple of the guys beat her to it, wrenching me back by my shoulders.
“Easy, easy. I'm coming.” I shrugged them off, uncomfortable with them touching me.
“Time to get O'Hara fucked up.” One of the guys shrieked with delight, and as we entered the kitchen, Jason looked at me with a plea in his eyes, but I just grinned and held my hands up.
“Team rules, O’Hara. You know that. You captained the team once, and it’s your final year. Let them have their fun.”
“Fucker,” he cursed under his breath, as Steve and Nicky pulled a little tighter on the rope binding his wrists. They started leading him out back, chanting his name while I lingered behind.
Dennis stepped up beside me. “What happened to spending some time with Ana?”
I nodded toward the door. “That happened. They better not fuck him up too much; we need him for the opening game next week.”
We started to make our way to the backyard.
“Are you ready for that, after last season? Rumor has it Coach isn’t happy after how things ended last season. He knows you wanted out.”
My head snapped up. “I don’t want back in, you know that. It wasn’t like I made the call.”
“We know that, but Coach had it out for you and Bra-” Dennis swallowed his words and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Any way you look at it, Coach is not going to be happy.”
Dennis was right. Coach Parker was supposed to be off living up his retirement on the coast somewhere, but instead, he’d decided to stick around for another year. While he never liked Braiden, I never really had an issue with the guy until he insisted on making my business his business at the end of last season. He was old school and refused to bend to the will of the Donohues.
Another chorus of cheers erupted as Jason was stripped of his clothes and led toward one of the lampposts lining the path into the yard. Everyone was so oblivious to the shit going on in my life. Not that it was their business, but people knew about the family. They knew about the town’s connections, and rumors traveled far and wide. But they could switch off what didn’t directly affect them. Me? I couldn’t switch it off even if I tried.
Ever since finding out that Marcus had a connection to Dad’s death, I had fought to keep afloat in the black hole trying to swallow me whole. Anger. Frustration. Guilt. It all fused together, pumping through my veins like poison. The man who had raised me as his own had betrayed me in the worst possible way.
And once I had proof, he had to pay.
One way or another, Marcus Donohue had to be brought to justice.
Chapter Three
Ana
Jackson didn’t come and find me. After an hour of waiting, I left my friends and went in search of him, but the team was nowhere to be found. Dennis fou
nd me though, the grim look on his face not doing anything to settle the unease in my stomach.
“I’ll walk you back.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer as I let him usher me out of the house and down the path. We walked in silence for a few minutes, only the faint sound of the party lingering on the cool breeze.
“Are you going to tell me where he is?” I eventually asked.
“He’s with the team.”
I sighed deeply. Dennis was a guy of few words, and usually the ones he did think important enough to say aloud were frustrating as hell.
“And yet here you are.”
“He wanted me to make sure you got home okay.”
A laugh ripped from my throat. Bitter and angry, it left a sour taste in my mouth. “He wanted to make sure I got home okay but couldn’t come himself?”
“Ana…”
I watched from the corner of my eye as Dennis dragged a hand over his buzz cut. His face twisted with anguish, and I could tell how hard it was for him to be here. With me.
“You don’t have to walk me. It’s only a few minutes away, and it’s not even that late. I’ll be fine. Go back to the party, Dennis.” I hugged myself tight, trying to hold myself together.
Do not cry in front of him.
“It’s hard for him. I can already see it taking its toll. I know he-”
My whole body lurched around to face Dennis, stopping him in his tracks. Before I could stop them, the words tumbled out. “Hard on him? And you think this is easy for me? Watching him go through this? Watching him play happy families with Marcus and her,” I hissed, feeling tears brim in my eyes. “They’re dragging him down into their world, and I hate it. I fucking hate it.”
The floodgates opened, and Dennis caught me as I slumped forward, overwhelmed by the sheer force of my pent-up emotion. My fingers curled around Dennis’ shirt, gripping so tight my knuckles whitened.
“Ana…”
“Wait,” I sniffled. “Just give me a second, okay. I just need a few seconds.”
I allowed myself to sob into his jersey for a moment longer before inhaling a deep breath and wiping the tears from my eyes. Dennis’ hands remained clamped on my shoulders as I stepped back, putting some distance between us.
Shrugging out of his grip, I turned my back on Dennis and started walking again. I’d done so well at keeping my feelings in check, but lately, it was getting harder. Things were not okay between Jackson and me. We were just lying to ourselves; burying our heads in the sand—and each other.
“Ana, wait up.” Dennis fell into step beside me, his long strides matching two of my shorter ones. “He wanted to leave and come find you.”
But he didn’t.
I didn’t say the words. They wouldn’t change anything; only make the two of us more uncomfortable than we already were. We both knew Jackson should have been the one here with me. Not Dennis.
By the time we reached the house, all I had wanted to do was run in the other direction. I didn’t even want to be here. Alone in a house I never wanted in the first place.
“Do you want me to come in and wait with you? I can; I don’t mind.”
“No, no. I’ll be fine,” I rushed out.
“Okay.” Dennis stepped off the small porch and made a clicking noise low his throat. “Listen, Ana, don’t give up on our guy yet. He needs you. He needs all of us.” His eyes locked on mine, and I stood there speechless; the depth of Dennis’ loyalty to Jackson shone brightly in his eyes.
Nodding, I entered the house and closed the door behind me. The house was dark, only a sliver of moonlight reflecting off the wall. Shadows danced across the walls, leafy monsters moving in nonsensical directions. A shudder traveled along my spine, and I hit the light switch on the wall to plunge the room into brightness. The relief was immediate, and I moved through the house quickly, making my way to our room on the first floor.
Jackson had insisted that I pick out the décor for the master bedroom. I’d rolled my eyes at the gesture, but he’d said he wanted me to feel comfortable in our house. Our house. The pale lilac comforter matched the prints on the wall behind the huge bed, complemented by dark furniture that had taken both Jackson and Dennis a whole weekend to assemble.
After changing into my nightshirt and brushing my teeth, I climbed under the comforter and checked my cell for messages.
Nothing.
It wasn’t the first time since taking Braiden’s place in the family that Jackson had stayed out all night. He was battling his own demons, and he needed time and space to do that. I knew that better than anyone did. But I also knew what it felt like to drown in your pain. And that terrified me.
Jackson had saved me twice.
But what if I couldn’t save him?
My eyes flew open only to be met with darkness. But something had woken me.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson’s voice whispered from the far corner of the room.
“Jackson?” I hit the lamp switch and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Jackson was sitting in the chair, looking every bit the tortured soul.
“I fucked up tonight.”
“Jackson, what time is it? How long have you been sitting there?”
When he didn’t answer, I moved off the bed and tiptoed toward him. The sorrow in his eyes made my chest ache for him. Grief was written all over his beautiful face. My arms opened instinctively as I reached him, and Jackson shuffled to the edge of the chair, falling into my embrace. I pulled him into to me and held him tight.
“Talk to me; please just talk to me.”
We talked all the time. About our day, classes, the couple of weeks I spent back in Fort Pierce in summer. But we never talked about Braiden…or Marcus… or his dad. Since revealing what I had found out about Michael Pierce’s death, Jackson had closed up about it. Even when I pushed, he shut me out.
Jackson’s hand gripped my waist, and I heard him suck in a sharp breath.
“I love you so much, Ana. You know that, right? I can’t lose you.” His voice was quiet, but I didn’t miss the emotion in his words.
“Jackson. Jax, look at me.”
Jackson tilted his head back, and I smiled down at him. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together. I’m right here. See.” I covered one of his hands with mine and pulled it up to my chest, right where my heart beat. “Just you and me, remember?”
Something sparked in his eyes, and in one swift movement, Jackson stood and lifted my body to his. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried me to the bed, lowering me down gently. Jackson kneeled before me and yanked his jersey over his head. The light seeping through the blinds bounced off his rippled chest, sending my pulse soaring. He was so strong, even more so since he had been working out regularly with Dennis over the summer. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to trace the planes of his muscles with my fingers, but the intensity in his gaze held me in place.
Jackson broke our connection, covering my body with his own, bringing his lips to mine. All of his anger and frustration poured into his kiss. I felt it with each stroke, but I let him take what he needed from me. It didn’t matter; I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. When Jackson touched me, I was lost. Everything faded until there was just him. He was my home.
And I didn’t ever want to leave.
Time ceased to exist as the kiss deepened and Jackson’s hands slowly undressed me until I lay beneath him in just my black bra and panties. Our skin burned in the places it touched, but it didn’t stop him from pulling me closer. His fingers gripped my hips almost possessively as if he was claiming me or holding on for dear life.
Jackson’s mouth left mine and traced the curve of my collarbone down to my chest. He slipped a finger into my panties and pushed it inside of me. My whole body shuddered, and I cried out into the darkness. Arching my body into his, I urged Jackson to give me what I needed. What I knew he needed. But he only continued to work his fingers inside of me, smiling against my skin.
He’s smiling. It did
n’t happen often. He was always so tense and wound up. But I made him smile; it was the one thing I could do for him. This, right here, was the way I could help him.
“I need you,” I whispered into the night, hoping he would hear me.
Jackson answered by crushing his lips to mine and stealing my ragged breaths. His hands clawed at my panties until they were no longer covering me, and he rocked inside of me without warning.
“Ahhh.” His desperate kisses swallowed my moans, and I clung to him as he pulled out and slammed back inside of me. The sounds of our moans and slick skin colliding filled the room as my stomach started to coil tightly and I could focus on nothing but Jackson moving inside of me.
“Ana.” He groaned into my mouth. Over and over, like a ritual chant, and I was the deity.
My fingernails pressed into skin as I felt myself come undone beneath him. Jackson stilled a few seconds later as he found his own release. Rolling off me, he drew me back to him and pressed a kiss on my shoulder.
I lay awake in his arms until I heard his breathing even out.
Sunlight warmed my face and I rubbed open my eyes. Jackson’s side of the bed was empty and cold. He must have left a while ago. Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. My scars itched, the way they did whenever I was anxious. A reminder of all I’d survived and continued to survive every single day. But the urge was no longer there. I didn’t know if I was one hundred percent cured, but somewhere along the line, my needs had taken a backseat to Jackson’s.
Leaving the bed, I pulled on one of Jackson’s hoodies and stuffed my feet into my slippers to go in search of him. Usually up before me, Jackson liked to go for a run before breakfast or work out in the guest room—where the guys had taken it upon themselves to set up a makeshift gym—but this morning, I found him hunched over the breakfast counter staring off into the distance.
“Hey.” I poured myself a coffee and perched on the stool next to him.
