Bad Girl

by Piper Lawson

I didn’t take care of you, I want to say. You’re here, aren’t you?

  She sips tea as if we’re talking about movies instead of her abusive husband. “I know this isn’t the life you want for her, but life doesn’t always turn out how you plan.”

  “I want to fix that. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

  She lifts her chin, and for a minute, I see her when she was younger, mouthing off to me. “You have any plans to get your own life, brother?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that for ten years, you had the biggest life imaginable. And now, everything you want is about that little girl. She can’t hold the burden of your dreams, Jax. It’s too much for her.”

  I shift, remembering what I’d said to Mace about him needing to find something new.

  “I understand that you want to take this slow,” I say after a moment of easy silence. “But I want her in my life. I want to provide for her in every way I can. Nothing will keep me from that. Not your husband. Not the law. Not the last ten years. Annie’s my daughter, and there’s no changing it.”

  A noise inside makes us both turn.

  “What are you talking about?” a small voice says from behind the screen door.

  Shit.

  “Annie, honey.” Grace’s voice is calm, but there’s an edge beneath the surface. “What are you doing out here?”

  “You were taking too long.” Her gaze moves between Grace and me, but my heart is racing. “Uncle Jax, what’s going on?”

  “How much did you hear?” My voice sounds tight.

  “You said that I’m your daughter. But that’s not right.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Grace kneels in front of Annie. “Honey, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “In one sense, yes, Jax is your father. In another sense, your daddy and I are your parents. And all you need to know is that you are loved.”

  “But who was my daddy first?”

  “I was,” I say before Grace can interject.

  Annie’s face changes as she looks at me. “Then why did you give me a new daddy?”

  Pain slices though me. I don’t know what to say. All I can say is, “I’m sorry. Annie, I’m so sorry.”

  Her gaze flicks between us, then to the street. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Okay. You want to read something together?”

  “No.” Her voice is unusually sharp. “No. I’m going to read to myself.”

  Annie retreats, the screen door clicking behind her, and I rub both hands over my face.

  It doesn’t help. Because when I blink my eyes open, I’ve still fucked everything up.

  14

  Haley

  The line at the registrar’s office shouldn’t be this long. It’s the middle of the semester. Everyone’s already registered, right?

  I shift because my foot’s fallen asleep again. I’d rather be at Wicked right now, where I know Lita’s recording. But no. I’m getting back into school, and I’m not taking no for an answer.

  The number called is 473. I’m 474.

  Then, it’s my turn.

  I get to the window. “Hi, I’m Haley Telfer. I spoke to someone about getting back into school. Here’s the reference letter.” I hand the woman the sealed envelope.

  I haven’t seen Cross since our father-daughter date earlier this week, but I found this in my mailbox with a note.

  In some ways, it feels like the best gift I’ve ever gotten.

  She opens it and scans the letter. “It says the reference is for Haley Cross.”

  I wince. “My name is Haley Telfer. But this is my reference.”

  “From a Shannon Cross. Are you related?”

  “Technically he’s my father. Why?”

  She sets the letter on the desk. “You can’t have a reference letter from a family member.”

  “I didn’t know that man was my father until a few months ago. Not while I worked for him.”

  She stares at me as if I’m crazy. “Miss Telfer—Cross—whatever your name is, you are ineligible to return to this institution until you have appropriate paperwork. From a non-family member.”

  “You have no idea what I did to get this,” I whisper.

  She looks past me. “There are other people in line.”

  “Do you have a daughter? Does she have dreams?” I try, desperate.

  “I do. And she does. Neither of which are relevant to this conversation. Next!”

  As I take my letter back and trudge out of the office, the full weight of disappointment hits me.

  It’s a month into the fall semester, and I’m no closer to getting re-enrolled.

  Which maybe is for the best since I’m behind on my readings thanks to the IT breakdowns at Wicked recently.

  I need to talk to someone. I can’t call Serena because she’s in class. Outside, I dial Jax’s number.

  He answers on the third ring. “Yeah?”

  I swallow, sinking onto a bench. “Jax? I didn’t get back into school. Cross gave me the letter, and I still couldn’t get back in.” I curse. “Maybe I should just drop out.”

  “Maybe you should.” I blink at the spot where the grass meets the cobblestone. “Hales?”

  “No. It’s just… I figured you’d give me a pep talk or something.”

  “Why?”

  I’m not sure.

  Jax isn’t my boyfriend.

  It’s not his job to be there, even though he is. To comfort me, even though he does.

  “Hales,” he goes on, sighing out a breath, “I’m good at talking about shit that’s fucked up. I’m not good at fixing it. If anything, I’m better at breaking it.”

  Alarm bells light up in my mind. “What happened?”

  “Annie found out I’m her father. And not how I planned to tell her. Now Grace’s pissed, but it’s Annie who won’t speak to me.”

  “She’ll get past it.”

  “Did you?”

  I shift. “Maybe I will.”

  My phone beeps, and I glance at the call waiting. “It’s Lita.”

  Kyle’s been texting all week to get an update on how my conversation with Cross went about the album.

  Guilt edges in because I hadn’t even gone there.

  This is probably Lita’s attempt. I can’t avoid it forever.

  “Jax, I should go. Can we talk later?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” But he’s distant, and I don’t know how to change that.

  Maybe there’s no way to help it.

  Because he’s in Dallas and I’m here, and maybe all we can ever be at a distance is people who get each other off.

  On that depressing note…

  I switch lines, trying to shove it from my mind. “Hi, Lita. Sorry I didn’t return your calls, but—”

  She makes a strangled sound. “Haley.”

  “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

  “Something happened.”

  Hospitals are all the same. Linoleum and bright lights. Black streaks marking the floors, like people were drag racing with gurneys.

  I’m pretty sure that never happens except on TV.

  Next to me, Kyle’s staring at the wall. Lita paces. Brick’s wandering the halls.

  It’s been seven hours since I arrived.

  I’m not good with hospitals. Especially this hospital.

  I bury myself in my phone, trying to read articles and pretending I can focus on something other than the background noises of beeping, the staccato voices, and the occasional metal on metal.

  In some ways, it shouldn’t be that different from being on tour.

  It’s completely different from being on tour.

  I glance at the clock. It’s the same kind as in schools. The institutional one with a big face, blunt hands that always move too slow.

  Movement catches my eye as Jax rounds the corner.

  We all straighten. “Well?” I ask.

  The man in a white lab
coat with a buzzed head appears behind him, addressing all of us. “Your friend is going to survive.”

  “Mace stepped off the roof of the studio,” Kyle says it loudly, and I wince. “That’s not something you bounce back from.”

  The doctor says, “He has a broken leg, wrist, and collarbone. It could have been more severe. My suggestion is that you all get a good night’s sleep and return in the morning.”

  I stand, weary. “Wanna go?”

  Jax nods, and the four of us leave the hospital together.

  A few minutes later, the black Town Car rolls up.

  We drop Lita off first. Then Kyle off at his hotel.

  Jax stares at the seat the rest of the way back to my place. When we get inside, Serena’s reading a book.

  The old-fashioned kind with a spine and everything.

  Her worried face peers up at us from the couch.

  “Jax. When did you get here?”

  “About two hours ago. Chartered a plane.” His voice sounds as if he’s been up all week.

  “How is he? What hospital is he at?” she asks.

  I tell her, and she sets the book on the table in front of her with a sigh.

  “Haley…”

  “It’s fine,” I say, shaking my head. “Thanks, Serena.”

  I start toward my room. Halfway there, I realize Jax isn’t following me. He’s still standing by the door. I take his hand and tug him along.

  I shut my door after us. Jax walks around the room, studying my things.

  “I don’t know what makes someone decide to…” My voice echoes in the silence, and I take a breath.

  He stands in front of me, his hair falling in his face. “This isn’t the first time.”

  “What?”

  His amber eyes are dull. “It’s been years. I didn’t know he was in this place again.”

  Jax and I have talked about our pasts, but this is different. I sense it from the way his shoulders slump. The defeat in his expression.

  “What happened last time?”

  “Touring got to him. He was partying too much. Always chasing the latest high. We were supposed to meet up on an off day. I found him lying in the gutter in NOLA. Got him to a hospital, found needle tracks up his arms. I didn’t know. I mean, on some level I knew, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

  “Did he mean to…?”

  “I don’t know. Guess this time he decided he did.”

  My eyes sting, and I wipe at them. “He and Kyle came to me about doing an album. I told them I’d help. That I’d talk to Cross. But I didn’t, Jax. I should’ve, and I didn’t.”

  “It’s not your fault, Hales,” he murmurs. “What did Serena mean about the hospital?”

  I take a shuddering breath. “It’s where my mom died.”

  Jax closes the distance between us.

  I’ve hugged him before, but this time, he’s the one folding me into his arms. I feel myself crumble, and I’m pissed at myself because I should be the one there for him.

  “Let’s take a shower,” he says against my hair. I nod, slow.

  Jax pulls back a few inches. Just enough to strip his T-shirt over his head. Then tugs off his jeans, his shorts.

  I follow suit.

  When we finally step under the spray together, I can’t help noticing his body despite everything that’s happened.

  My gaze rakes down his back, his ass, his legs as the water runs over him. Darkening his hair to chocolate. He turns to face me, and the pull is there.

  I squirt body wash into my palm and wash the hard muscles of his chest. His intake of breath is the only sign he’s resisting, but he doesn’t stop me.

  I move around to wash his back. Every part of him is beautiful. The dark hair, soaked and curling at his neck. The breadth of his shoulders, the taper of his waist. The slim hips, the firm curve of his ass.

  I turn back to the front of him, and his gaze is darker.

  “Here.” He takes the body wash and soaps up my shoulders, my chest, my breasts.

  Jax’s big hands glide down my sides, my butt. He pulls me closer, and he’s half-hard. I tip my face up to his, and his mouth finds mine.

  We kiss out of shared sadness. Out of desperation. Out of need to make something that’s not awful.

  I pull back, catching my breath. “I should’ve done something more. I could’ve helped, could’ve convinced Cross. I had no idea...”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Hales. You can get caught up in it. And once you do, you never let it go.” When he speaks again, his voice is a murmur over the sound of water hitting tile. “You taught me something—there’s always a choice. No matter how bad things look, you get to decide. Maybe you can’t decide for the world, but you can decide how you act. How you feel.”

  Jax has shown his anger, his self-loathing. Never his sadness.

  My hands cup the sides of his face, water running over our skin. “Promise me something. Don’t ever regret me. Don’t ever feel guilty. Don’t wish away a moment of this. No matter what happens.” He doesn’t respond, and I kiss him once, hard. “Promise.”

  Jax nods, slow.

  When he backs me into the tile, my heart’s hammering because I want him so badly I ache with it.

  Everywhere he touches me glows. The press of his cock against my stomach has me moaning against him.

  His mouth crushes mine, and this time, there’s no question of his intent.

  For tonight, there are no walls. Neither of us can manage to keep them up.

  He’s going to take everything I have and am.

  And I’m going to give it to him.

  His expression flares with heat and something else. Jax lifts me, pressing me against the tile and leaving my legs useless. I hook them around him. When he sinks inside me, we gasp together.

  His length fills me.

  His soul fills me.

  He strokes into me, and I want this, I need it, but it’s too much. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut.

  Neither of us is ready to last long. He pumps into me, long, slow strokes, but the groans torn from his throat tell me he’s close. I am too.

  “Can’t take it,” he utters.

  “I know.” My lips brush the side of his face, the cords of his neck.

  I come first, and a moment later, he shakes, pulling out as he spills all over me.

  The shower washes it away.

  By the time we dry off, it’s late, but I’m nowhere near sleep. He’s not either. He spies something on my shelf and raises a brow.

  “Jerry bought me that for my birthday.”

  He unrolls the travel chess set, the pieces too small for his fingers.

  Still, he’s beating me from the first move.

  “How did you get so good?” I murmur. “Did Jerry teach you?”

  “No. Cross did. Before I saw him for the manipulator he is.”

  Some people are live wires. They need careful management so they don’t burn out, or catch fire, or destroy themselves.

  “You really think there’s nothing good in him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He didn’t start Wicked to destroy young lives.”

  “Maybe he wanted money. Fame.” Jax shrugs. “Power. Why?”

  I understand what it’s like to want something bigger than yourself.

  “No reason.” I feel Jax’s gaze on me, but I focus on the board.

  15

  Haley

  “Come on,” I mutter, hitting the run key again and wrestling my lip with my teeth.

  Code flashes on the screen. As I hold my breath, the solution appears.

  Ninety percent.

  After the last month of hard work, my program explains nine-tenths of why a song is a hit. What’s more, it makes recommendations about what to change in the levels, frequency—hell, even the effects—to make it more appealing.

  I sigh, relief and pleasure washing over me as I slump in my chair. I glance at the clock in the interns’ office. I’m t
he only intern in IT this fall, and my stuff has spread out over the other desks.

  But it’s late enough nearly everyone’s gone for the day.

  Since everything that happened with Mace, I’ve realized being kicked out of school isn’t as huge as I thought. It’s not life or death. The rest—winning the competition or getting back into school—I’ll figure it out.

  If anything, I’m more determined than ever to do something that matters.

  I reach into my pocket for the slip of paper with Jax’s lyrics. It needs a starting point, musically speaking. Chords. A key. Maybe even a melody. If only he’d do that.

  Then I could actually use my app. To take it to the next level.

  Before I can get too excited, my phone rings with an incoming video call.

  “Hey,” I say when Jax’s face appears. “You’re in the house.”

  “Closed yesterday. I’m surrounded by boxes and takeout.”

  “I’m surprised you notice. It’s ten thousand square feet.” I shift the computer off my lap. “Did Mace arrive today?”

  “In one piece and grumpy as fuck. Cast on his arm and leg. Had to get him a special bed.” Jax’s gaze looks past me. “Where are you?”

  “Wicked.”

  His mouth tightens. “It’s midnight.”

  “I’m working on my program.”

  “You can’t do that at home?”

  I shoot him a look.

  He blows out a breath. “You coming for Thanksoween?”

  “I thought it was Halloween.”

  “Nah. See, when we’re on tour, we don’t get much downtime for the holidays. Our October to December is basically the same as the rest of the year. So, we had to roll them all into one. ‘Merry Thanksoween’ involves tailgating off the bus with turkey and candy.”

  I can’t help laughing at the visual. “Right. Presents?”

  Jax grins too. “Does booze count?”

  “Sure.” It sounds like fun. “Then I guess if it’s a tour tradition, everyone on tour should come. Lita, Kyle, Brick.” He curses. “That doesn’t sound like Thanksoween spirit,” I tease him.

  “It’s been a rough month.”

  “True. But all the more reason, Jax.” I shift in my seat. “If need be, I will personally get you in the mood.”