A ragged breath left me, my body tense, even after the orgasm came and went. I did not release my grip on my dick immediately, instead taking my time to do it. My eyes were slow to open, and I heaved out a sigh as I let go of myself and leaned on the wall, staring at the cum dripping down the off-white surround.
Shit. This was only the first step of many in the wrong direction, I knew. This was the turning point, the tipping point. Nothing after tonight would be normal. Nothing would stay the same. How the fuck was I supposed to meet with Jaz on Sunday and not remember the eager way I’d jerked myself off after speaking with her on the phone?
It would be impossible, obviously.
There would be no way I could look into her warm, chocolatey eyes and not remember how I’d imagined her pussy taking me in. It was wrong, but my thoughts were what they were.
Fuck. I was so fucked it wasn’t funny. Jaz had somehow wormed her way under my skin, into my thoughts. This was merely the first time I’d given in. Every other time I’d managed to hold myself back, to remind myself that she was young, too young, and that I did not need that kind of complication in my life.
Look at me now, standing in the shower with a semi-erect dick, staring at my own cum on the tub surround.
They said the mighty fell just like everyone else. I was never mighty, so I wasn’t sure where the hell that left me.
Chapter Eleven – Jaz
Okay. That whole thing last night with Jacob…I knew I crossed the line. A bit. Yeah, yeah, talking to him while in the tub, saying the things I did—of course it would lead to him thinking certain things. Hell, I was thinking those same things. Jacob was cute, even if he was the grumpiest of all grumps. I wasn’t blind.
I didn’t think he’d call me immediately when I emailed him my number, though. I thought maybe he’d text me, ask if something was wrong. Him calling to ask that question had come out of the blue.
I mean, who the hell liked talking on the phone nowadays? Didn’t people hate it? I knew I did. Texting was good enough for any situation. Calling was just gross. You had to put down what you were doing to answer the call. And in my case last night, there was no way to hide the fact that I was in a tub full of water. A text? That shit could’ve been hidden.
Oh, well, I guess. It wasn’t like Jacob and I would be working together forever. Vaughn had pretty much said outright that his family would retaliate if they found out Jacob was looking into them, and seeing Jacob get hurt explicitly because of me and what I was having him do was the last thing I wanted.
As much as I didn’t want to say goodbye to the private investigator, I had to. For his own good.
With everything going on with me, with what Jacob had told me about Ollie and his family, I was less worried about my mom being in danger here. From what it had sounded like, Jacob trusted Ollie, just not his sons.
Now, if his sons strolled back into town, then I’d have to sit back and rethink all that.
Mom must not have seen the envelope in her purse before I took it back, for she didn’t say anything to me about it. I had some homework to do, since I’d pretty much blown my Friday night practicing choir songs with Bobbi, planning what we would do at the next dance, and then taunting Jacob while I was in the bath. My Friday night had been busy.
I sat in my room, at my desk, my math textbook open and a pad of graph paper beside me. There was nothing worse than having to graph things out. I literally hated it, especially since every single part of the graph had to be labeled. Just awful. Who would need to do this shit after graduation? Not me. I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life yet, but I knew I would never want a job that required me to graph shit out.
I know what you’re probably thinking. I was a senior. I should have my next four years planned out at whatever university I wanted to go to.
Here’s the thing: I didn’t. Yeah, I applied to a few, but that was before my entire life changed in the blink of an eye. Now I wasn’t sure what the hell I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, what I wanted to major in. Frankly, I was just taking it a day at a time. I didn’t want to think about a future right now, not when my current, day-to-day life was so shitty.
I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning my face against my hand. The door to my bedroom was cracked open; Mom was downstairs, cleaning the kitchen, last time I checked. Ollie had told her to choose two days off a week, but it was like my mom didn’t hear him. She worked pretty much all the time. In a house as big as this, there was always something to do, something to occupy her time.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was trying to keep herself busy, to purposefully avoid something.
Talking to me, maybe? Talking about my dad—who she’d lied about my entire life? Sooner or later Mom and I would sit down and have a long discussion about it. No yelling this time. No harsh words. Just truths, laid bare, as they always should’ve been.
She knew who he was. She’d told me I looked like him, and now, of course, I couldn’t help but wonder if Mom had uprooted our lives because of him. If she was on the run from him, if he’d finally found us.
I wasn’t one for conspiracy theories. I wasn’t one of those people who believed everything they read on the internet, but that was a theory that had some weight behind it.
Just as I got back to work, I heard my door open slightly, and I set down my pencil and looked up, thinking it was my mom. But it wasn’t.
Oliver Fitzpatrick stood, looking as if he wore the same wrinkled clothes he’d worn all day yesterday—like, after coming home late, he’d shut himself in his study and worked all night. Heavy bags rested under his eyes, his black hair looking more grey than anything. Salt and pepper stubble lined his face, the top button on his shirt undone.
Well, at least he took off his tie and his suit jacket, right? Made himself a little comfortable in his own home.
“Frank is saying someone’s here to see you,” Ollie spoke, his blue eyes looking watered-down and exhausted. He carried himself like a man who’d seen a lot. He didn’t radiate danger or uncertainty; he simply looked sad. So very sad.
This man had lost everything, and I had him under a magnifying glass of suspicion. It was only right then that I felt bad about it. Oliver had been nothing but kind to us. He didn’t ask for the world; sometimes I just wondered if he wanted other people in the house, so he wouldn’t be alone in this big, empty place.
If so, that was just depressing.
Eventually I managed to say, “Did he say who?” Back in my own mind enough to wonder just who the hell could be here to see me. Brittany had seen me leave Ollie’s car, so she knew—and thereby the whole school knew—I lived at the Fitzpatrick house, so theoretically it could be anyone.
Definitely wouldn’t be Jacob, because our meeting was tomorrow, and he knew better than to talk to the guard at the gate.
I highly doubted it would be Bobbi, either. When she’d left, she’d told me she’d see me Monday, and she didn’t forget anything at the house, so…
“No,” Ollie spoke, reaching to rub the back of his neck. “He did mention it was a boy, though.”
A boy? Who in the world…was Vaughn outside the gate, waiting to talk to me? No. No way. Why would he be here? That didn’t make sense.
Whoever it was waiting out there, wanting to see me, it was a good thing Frank had called Ollie and not my mom. My mom would literally be freaking the hell out if she knew a boy had called on me.
If I was careful, it was possible I’d be able to sneak around my mom and exit the house. Getting back in would be more difficult, but I was willing to try.
“Well?” Ollie broke into my thoughts. “Are you going to go out, or should I tell Frank to get rid of him?”
I got to my feet, slowly closing my math book. “No, I’ll…I’m going.”
Ollie said nothing else, leaving my room. After hurriedly slipping on shoes and grabbing a hoodie to slip on, I found that Ollie had gone to the kitchen. When my feet hit the ground on the first floo
r, I heard his voice echoing from the kitchen, along with my mom’s. He was asking her why she never took it easy, why she never took a day off.
I almost wondered if he was distracting her for me, but surely Oliver Fitzpatrick would never do something like that.
Making not a sound, I headed toward the front vestibule, practically tiptoeing as I went. I slipped out the door, careful as I let it shut behind me. The sky was a clear blue, a deceiving color in what was still technically winter. Spring would be here in less than a month, which I wasn’t looking forward to.
At my old school, spring equaled rain, which then equaled mud. So much mud. Mud everywhere. Forget about having nice shoes.
The driveway was ridiculously long, paved and winding. I took a straight shot from the door to the gate, cutting off a little by doing so. When Frank saw me walking up, he opened the gate for me, and I stepped out, staring at the car waiting just outside.
My stomach sank immediately as I stared at the car and the driver behind the wheel. Frank left his guard station, moving beside me as he glanced between me and the car. “Were you expecting him, Miss?”
Me being called Miss caught me off-guard for only a moment, because soon I was back to being confused, back to being upset at the handsome face I saw in the car.
“No,” I said, the cold wind whipping around, causing my hair to fly every which way. No, I wasn’t expecting him. No, I never invited him over. And, I could not stress this enough, no, I never wanted to see that bastard outside of school again. I might’ve been stupid before, but I was not stupid any longer when it came to Archer Vega.
At least…I didn’t think I was.
“I can ask him to leave, or call the police, if you’d rather—” Frank started, but I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “I’ll see what he wants.” I gave Frank a smile. Frank was nice. I liked him. I liked him a whole lot better than I liked the boy driving the fancy sportscar in front of me.
Folding my arms over my chest, I waited until Frank returned to his guard station before moving to the driver’s side. Archer did not roll down the window, but he did spare a glance at me as he gestured for me to get in.
Me, getting in the car with Archer? Yeah, right. After what happened the last time I got into his car, why the fuck would I go anywhere with him? He had lost all rights to spend any time with me alone whatsoever.
I uncrossed my arms, only to curl every single finger down on my fist except one: the middle. It was that straight finger I pressed against the shiny glass near his face, flicking him off with a certainty I wished I had in every aspect of my life. Once I dropped my hand from the glass, I started walking away.
The sound of a car door being opened caused me to slow, and hearing his voice made me stop entirely: “Jaz, wait.”
I should just walk back through the gate, let Frank close it, and leave Archer out here. Who cared why the hell he was here, anyway? I certainly had no business with him, not after the shit he pulled.
But, all that aside, I didn’t leave. I didn’t turn on my heel, flip him off a second time, and march back to the house. I met his brilliant sapphire stare, waiting for him to say something else. His lean legs wore dark jeans, a navy blazer on his chest. His blonde hair was a bit ruffled; the cold wind treated us both equally there.
It was wrong, but he still looked just as cute as I remembered.
Any girl would fall under his spell. Not just me.
“Please,” Archer spoke, his hand clinging to the car door as if it would save him from the awkwardness of this conversation. “Please, Jaz.” He didn’t sound like a boy who was trying to convince me to do something bad; he sounded desperate, a boy trapped in his own personal hell. The very opposite of charming and confident, not at all what I’d grown accustomed to when I thought the name Archer Vega.
I shouldn’t even debate on it. I shouldn’t give him a second thought, not after what he did to me. Not after lying and letting Brittany embarrass me like that.
Not to mention drugging me.
Grinding my teeth, I moved closer to his car, though I did not head to the passenger side and get in. I simply stared at him and asked, “Why should I give you the light of day?” I honestly wasn’t expecting much, answer-wise.
“Please,” he said again. “Just…just let me say my piece.”
“Then say it.”
Archer sighed, flicking a quick glance at Frank in the tower. His door was closed, his window up, but he could still probably hear what was being said out here. The last thing I wanted was for Frank to tell Ollie or my mom what was going on, so I rolled my eyes and headed toward his car.
I got in, even though it was probably the worst mistake I could’ve made.
He followed shortly, glancing at me as he put his seatbelt on.
Whoa, there. I agreed to hear him out in his car, not go with him to a secondary location—I didn’t even have my cell phone on me. It currently sat on my desk, near my math book and that stupid graph paper. I wasn’t prepared for any of this.
“Hey,” I started, about to get out of the car. “I didn’t—”
Archer turned into someone else, putting the car in reverse and flying out of the driveway, speeding away and thereby causing the locks to the doors to clamp down. I supposed I could manually pull up the lock and fling myself out of a moving car, but the injuries that might come with that made me hesitate.
My second time getting kidnapped in less than seven days. You’d think I would’ve learned by now to be more careful.
What could I say? The handsome faces they wore and knives they flashed got to me.
Okay, Dante had the knife. Archer didn’t have one—not that I knew of, anyway.
“I didn’t agree to go anywhere with you,” I hissed, shooting him a glare.
“You got in the car, didn’t you?” He shot me a fast look, though his expression gave absolutely nothing away. His knuckles were practically white on the steering wheel, and as he made his first turn, I realized I had no idea where we were going.
This could be bad.
“Take me back,” I said. “Take me back, or I’ll—”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he cut in, blonde brows furrowing. “I just need to talk to you somewhere safe. Somewhere no one will hear us.”
Ah, right. That wasn’t serial killer-ish at all.
I argued with him for a while, trying to give myself the boost of courage I’d need to either crash his car or jump out. Either way, I could get seriously hurt—especially now, considering the speed limits he was currently breaking.
Also, I already had no idea where we were. Midpark was a rich maze, and I did not know the area well enough to find my way home from here.
I was in this, whether the outcome would be good or bad.
Archer took us to what must be a park at the edge of town. It was too cold for anyone to be on the playground, so that’s the parking lot he took us to, parking in an end spot before turning off his car and bringing those blue eyes to me.
They weren’t like Ollie’s. Archer’s blue gaze was vibrant, so full of life. So ready to turn ice cold at the drop of a dime. They could either be icebergs or the warm waters of the Caribbean. Archer created a new definition for hot and cold.
Being this close to him, alone, with no one else in sight, made my mind wander a bit too much. It was wrong how my body responded to his, even now—elevated heart rate, sweaty palms, a warming stomach. So fucking stupid, with what the bastard did to me.
When would I ever learn my lesson?
He was slow to unbuckle his seatbelt, never once breaking eye contact. My whole body felt warm, and I resisted my urge to squirm under his gaze. “What is it, Archer?” I hoped I sounded like a bitch; I thought I did, but then again, with my body going haywire, it was hard to be sure. “Why did you need to bring me here?”
“Come on,” he said, getting out of the car.
I blinked. What in the world…did this boy plan on murdering me and leaving my body i
n the woods? There was a bit of forest just beyond the playground, and what looked like a gravel pathway heading into it. It was where Archer was going.
Considering he had the keys to the car and I had no idea where we were, I pretty much had to go.
A frown graced my face as I got out and walked toward him, shoving my hands in my hoodie’s pocket. “If you plan on killing me,” I warned him, “I’ll put up a fight.” I didn’t know much about self-defense…maybe I should change that.
Hmm. Wonder if I could fire Jacob from being my private investigator and tell him to teach me how to defend myself instead. He was a fit man, and he had an entire workout room in his place. Surely Mr. Grumps wouldn’t tell me no.
Archer let out a short laugh, though it sounded like it died in the back of his throat. “I’m not…that’s not what this is about.” When I reached his side, he threw a look around, as if double-checking we were alone. He said nothing else, taking the trail to the woods around the playground.
Right. Not creepy at all. This was totally normal.
It was almost eerie, walking through a forest while alone with Archer. Since it was winter, the leaves on the trees were gone, skeletons reaching up to the sky. There was not a single sound in the air, other than our shoes crunching on the small pebbles beneath our feet.
“I’ve got to say,” I broke the silence between us as we walked, “this is a little weird.” Two feet of space sat between us, though I wished it could’ve been more. The pathway was only so wide, you see.
“I just…” Archer stopped, turning to face me suddenly. I found myself freezing, itching to take a step back, away from him. “I had to make sure we were alone.”
“Right,” I said, deadpanning, “because sitting in your car in the driveway wasn’t alone enough. You needed to take me out here, where dreams go to die.” It was a creepy place, okay? Just take it from me. A horror movie type of forest if I ever saw one.
Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2) Page 13
