“We’ve all grown up.” I rub at a tense spot between my brows. “I know I have.” Or woken up, more like.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
I glance up, stifling a groan as my eyes lock on the gorgeous blonde hovering over our table. Her hands are on her hips as she eye fucks me with no hesitation. Melania is a stunner. Curves in all the right places and a face that could grace magazine covers. But she’s a class-A bitch and more trouble than she’s worth. I fucked her a few times, but that’s firmly in my past.
“Melania.” Hunt says her name like it bores him to even utter the word. “Fuck off.”
“As charming as ever, Sawyer,” she deadpans, sliding into the booth beside me, uninvited. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
“We were never friends.” Hunt drills her with a look.
She waves her hands about. “Fuck buddies. Whatever.” Hunt must have banged her too at some point. It’s no surprise I don’t remember. I spent a lot of summers high or drunk, so my memory is hazy. She drapes herself around me. “I’m thinking a reunion is in the cards.” She runs her finger down my cheek as her hand lands heavily on my upper thigh, making her intent known. I grab her wrist, stopping her upward trajectory, as a cold voice rings out loud and clear.
“I’m thinking you’re in my seat,” Nessa says, shooting daggers at her arch nemesis.
“You heard my girlfriend,” I say, prying Melania off me. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Girlfriend!?” Her incredulous gaze bounces between me and Nessa. “This is fucking priceless!” She cracks up laughing, slapping her hand on my thigh again.
“Get your hands off him, bitch.” Nessa grabs her arm.
“Get your filthy disease-ridden paws off me!” Melania screeches, removing Nessa’s grip from her arm.
Hunt looks at me, and I nod, both of us ready to jump in if it turns physical.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Nessa says, calming down. “Jackson and I are dating, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just fuck off and leave us alone.”
“Dating.” She snickers. “Wait till the girls hear this.” She turns her face to me. “Surely, things aren’t so bad you have to slum it?”
“Melania.” Hunt’s tone carries considerable warning as he slides out his side of the booth, ushering Nessa in.
“Don’t be a bitch.” I place my arm around Nessa’s shoulder, keeping her close. “And everyone knows I’m boxing above my weight with Vanessa.”
“I think all the weed you’ve smoked has impaired your cognitive ability. She’s a slut, and you’re far too good for her.”
“Let me guess,” Nessa snarls, straining across the table at her. “You’d be a more suitable match.”
“Honey, Jackson already knows the truth. Why do you think I was the only girl he kept coming back to?” Her eyes glint maliciously. “The only one he fucked countless times?”
Nessa turns rigid in my arms, and I’m done with this shit. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was stoned or drunk every time I fucked you, and trust me, it meant nothing. Less than nothing.” I eye her with disdain. “Nessa is worth a thousand of you.”
Her eyes narrow, and her lips pinch. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”
“Fuck off, Melania. This is your final warning. I don’t care what it is you think you know. Get lost.” I tighten my hold on Nessa.
She fixes her deadly glare on Nessa. “If you think your secret is safe, think again. I’ll ruin you. I’ll tell everyone how you—”
Nessa throws her soda at her, cutting her off.
Melania screams, jumping up and staring, horror-struck, at the large Coke stain on the front of her white dress.
“You stupid bitch.” She lunges at Nessa over the table, but Hunt grabs her before she can lay a finger on my girlfriend. “This is Michael Kors, and it hasn’t even hit stores yet. You will pay for this. I’ll tell everyone! I’ll put it online. I’ll take out a full-page ad in the New York Times. I will destroy you.” She continues to hurl abuse at Vanessa as Hunt tries to drag her away from the table.
I spot a bouncer approaching with the manager. Fuck.
“You need to get out of here, babe. Go wait for me outside. Hunt and I will make this go away.”
Nessa’s face is as white as a ghost, and she’s immobile, staring absently into space, so I drag her out of the booth and escort her outside. I place her at the corner of the building under the full illumination of the canopy. Holding her upper arms, I stare into her eyes. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” I kiss her brow before walking away.
When I return, Melania is still spewing vitriol and making threats about lawsuits. The bouncer is holding her back as Hunt talks in hushed tones to the manager. The only reason she hasn’t been automatically kicked out is because her uncle is one of the club’s main suppliers. But we still outrank her, and she fucking knows it.
“I’d like a word with her,” I tell the burly bouncer. He looks at me as if he’d like to squash me with his boot. I flash him my ID. The Lauder name carries a lot of weight around here. His entire demeanor changes in a nanosecond. “I won’t hurt her. I just want to talk. You can stand over there.”
He walks a few feet away, out of earshot but close by if needed.
Melania opens her mouth to speak, but I shut her up with a cutting glare. “Listen up, bitch, and listen up good. If you make one move to hurt Vanessa, Hunt and I will come after you, guns blazing. We trade in secrets, and I bet it wouldn’t take long to find the skeletons in your closet.”
A brief flash of fear flickers across her retinas before she composes herself, opening her mouth to speak.
“I’m not done.” I narrow my eyes at her, and her mouth pulls tight. “I mean it. You hurt my girl, and I will hurt you one hundred times over. Consider this your only warning.”
I walk off as Hunt appears at my shoulder. “Is that handled?” I ask him.
“It is.” He casts a look over his shoulder. “I don’t trust that bitch.”
“Neither do I. Will you look into it, or should I ask Xavier?”
“I’ll talk to Xavier. We’ll investigate it together.”
“Send me the file when you have it. I’ll send Melania a little teaser should she be tempted to open that big fat mouth of hers.”
“Agreed,” Hunt says as we step outside.
I look to the corner, cursing at the empty space.
“Where is she?” Hunt looks around, his brow puckered in worry.
“I told her to wait right there,” I say, pointing.
“Get your hands off me!” Nessa shouts, and fear floods my system.
Hunt and I share a brief look before we take off running, heading in the direction of her voice.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vanessa
THE STEPMONSTER GRIPS my chin hard, his nails tearing through flesh while his knee digs painfully into my groin. He pins me to the wall with his body, his full weight locking me in place, meaning I can’t use any maneuver to break free.
If I hadn’t been so lost in thought—terrified Melania has discovered the truth and fearful she’ll carry through on her threat—he never would’ve been able to creep up on me, drag me around the corner into the alleyway undetected, and incapacitate me so fast.
“You go near my kids again, and I will fucking end you,” he hisses, spittle landing on my face.
“I saw the bruises,” I snap. “If you touch my sister again, I will go to the police. I will tell them everything you did to me. I’ll show them the photos I kept documenting my injuries. I’ll tell them you’re the reason I had a mini breakdown when I was fourteen.”
His hands move to my throat, and he squeezes. “Go near the police, and you’re dead. Besides, they won’t believe you. I’m a respectable member of the business community, and you’re a deadbeat junkie whore. They would’ve thrown your ass in juvie if I hadn’t intervened. I bailed you out, smoothed things over with West Lorian High, a
nd provided a roof over your head even after all the shit you put us through. I’m the hero in this story, sweetheart. You’re the villain.” He smirks, loosening his hold on my throat to brush his thumb along my neck.
“Fuck you, asshole.” I try to move to no avail.
“You’ve already been there, sweetheart.” His hand replaces his knee, and a violent shudder passes through me as he cups my pussy through my dress. “I don’t miss your ugly mouth, but your sweet pussy still gets me hard.” He flexes his hips, pushing his erection into me.
Bile swims up my throat, and fear trundles through my veins. “Get your hands off me!” I yell, hoping someone will hear and show up to rescue me.
He inches my dress up my thigh, his eyes dark with familiar intent, and I scream. Lust has distracted him, and I manage to work one of my hands free, dragging my long nails down his cheek and drawing blood.
He roars, his hands automatically going to his face, as he staggers back. I seize the opportunity, sliding out from under him and running as the sound of approaching footfalls tickles my eardrums.
“Nessa!” Jackson shouts, rounding the corner to the alley.
Relief mixes with fear as I slam to a halt.
I don’t want Jackson to know. It will change how he feels about me. It will ruin everything.
“Oh my God.” Jackson clasps my upper arms, inspecting the hand marks around my neck, scratches on my chin, and my wild eyes. His gaze roams over the rest of my body before he gently pulls me into his arms as Sawyer barrels past us. “Are you okay?”
I nod against his chest, unable to speak.
“You fucking asshole!” Sawyer slams his fist into the stepmonster’s jaw, and that unmutes my tongue.
“Stop!” I wriggle out of Jackson’s embrace, running to Sawyer’s side. I tug on his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t. It was a misunderstanding, but we’ve worked it out now.”
Aaron’s threat still lingers in my ear, and I can’t do anything that might put Kayleigh in even greater harm. I’ve been locked in my head all afternoon, going over my options. Ever since I found the yellowed bruising on her upper inner arm, I’ve been in a state of near hysterics. I asked her how she got them, and I can still vividly recall the dazed look in her eyes as she lied and said she fell off the monkey bars at the playground.
I can’t let the same thing happen to her.
I won’t.
I just need to figure out a plan and put it in place before he takes her innocence and shatters her forever.
“Nessa.” Jackson comes up behind me, pulling me into his side. “What the ever-loving fuck is going on?”
“I’d like to know that too,” Sawyer says, flexing his knuckles and glowering at the stepmonster.
“This is family business that doesn’t concern either of you,” Aaron says, recovering his composure.
“You hurt my girlfriend,” Jackson spits, nostrils flaring. Shock splays across Aaron’s face. Mom obviously didn’t tell him, and it’s a relief to know she has some good judgment. “That is my business.”
“She hurt me,” he retorts, dabbing at his cheek.
“I doubt she lashed out first,” Jackson snaps.
“You never lay your hand on a woman. Ever,” Sawyer adds in a clipped tone. “I don’t fucking care what Van did, or is alleged to have done, there is nothing that justifies you putting your hands on her.”
I gulp over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat. I wish I could tell them. I bet they could help. But they might insist I go to the police, and I’m scared he would take that out on Kayleigh.
I don’t know what to do. And my head is too cluttered to think clearly. I just need to get out of here. I grip Jackson’s shirt. “Can we go? Please.”
He presses a kiss to my head, holding me tight, and I feel so safe in his arms. But it’s only an illusion. A temporary safety net.
I can’t rely on Jackson or Sawyer because they won’t be in my life much longer.
The only person I can rely on is myself.
The only person who can rescue Kayleigh is me.
“Stay away from her,” Jackson growls.
“Fuck off, Lauder. You don’t scare me.”
“He should,” Sawyer replies. “We both should.” He cocks his head to the side. “Or have you forgotten what it is I know how to do?”
The bravado slips off Aaron’s face for a fleeting second. He pins a warning look at me. “Remember what I said. Don’t push this, or you’ll be sorry.” I shiver in Jackson’s arms as Aaron storms off, leaving a wake of devastation behind him.
I walk on autopilot as Jackson guides me out of the alleyway and across the road to his car. I lean my head against the passenger side window, absently glancing at the side mirror as Jackson moves out onto the road, vaguely aware of the silver car that pulls out from the curb behind us.
The mood is somber when we arrive back at Jackson’s house. Jackson takes the stairs two at a time, heading to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. “Whatever is going on,” Sawyer says, taking my hand and leading me to the couch, “you can trust us.”
“I know,” I quietly say, wishing it was true. “But there’s nothing to tell,” I lie. “We have never seen eye to eye. He thinks I’m a bad influence, and he wants me to stay away from the twins.”
I can tell from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe me. I was too rattled for that to be the only truth. But it’s all I’m giving him, so it’ll have to be enough. “He can’t stop you from seeing your brother and sister.” Sawyer rubs his thumb back and forth across my hand. “We have access to lawyers and money to burn. If you want to challenge him legally, you only have to say the word.”
Tears prick my eyes as feet pound down the stairs. “Thank you, but I can’t take your money.”
“Why the fuck not?” Jackson says, sitting on my other side.
“It wouldn’t be right and it’s not necessary. I’ll work this out my own way.”
Jackson and Sawyer share a look, but they say nothing. Jackson opens the first aid kid, withdrawing a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls. “This may sting a little,” he says, cleaning the scratches on my chin.
It does, but I barely feel it. The shock of today’s events has done a number on me.
“Nessa?” Jackson lifts his eyes to mine as he applies some arnica cream to my chin. “Has he put his hands on you before?”
Everything locks up tight inside me, and I stop breathing. Tension oozes in the air, thick and cloying. “No,” I lie. “We fight a lot but never like that.” I want to throw up, because I can tell he’s not buying it. “I’m tired,” I add, averting my gaze. “I’d like to go to bed.”
I can feel the weight of Jackson’s stare bearing down on me as I stand, and that’s all the more reason to curl up in bed and avoid his inquisition.
_______________
I tiptoe downstairs in the middle of the night, leaving Jackson softly snoring in the bed behind me. I pretended to be asleep when he eventually came upstairs, but I haven’t slept a wink all night.
I’m petrified for my sister, shaken by the altercation with the stepmonster, and feeling lost and helpless because I don’t know what to do. All I know is I want to stop thinking about it, so I grab a bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet in the living room and curl up on the couch with my demon of choice.
The colorless, odorless liquid soothes my anxiety as it slips down my throat, and I huddle under a blanket as I drain the bottle dry, grateful when the hazy numbness blanks my mind of all logical thought and a welcoming darkness swoops in and lays claim to me.
“Nessa.” A soft voice croons in my ear as Jackson shakes my shoulders. “Baby. Wake up. Please.” Concern drips from his tone in spades.
I blink my eyes open, wincing at the bright light spearing through the window. My throbbing temples, queasy tummy, and parched mouth remind me I fell off the wagon last night, along with all the reasons why. I close my eyes, wanting to retreat to that blank space a
gain.
“Nessa.” Jackson cups my face. “Babe. It’s after two. I’m worried about you.”
“We’re worried about you,” Sawyer adds, and I force my eyes open, meeting his troubled gaze.
I sit up, clutching my sensitive stomach. “Stop worrying. Everything’s fine.”
“Everything is not fine,” Jackson says, working hard to keep his tone soft. “You crept out of bed in the middle of the night, ended a year’s sobriety, and passed out until the middle of the day. Trust me, that doesn’t suggest things are fine.” He drags a hand through his hair.
“Why the fuck does it matter?” I glare at him. “You can stop pretending like this is anything more than a casual fling. You’ll both be gone in a few weeks, and I’ll be the one left to pick up the pieces.” I stand, clutching the arm of the couch when my legs threaten to go out from under me.
“Don’t fucking do that.” Sawyer moves toward me. “No matter what happens, we’re your friends. That will never change.”
I harrumph. “Friends. That’s a joke! I was an annoyance and nothing more.” I quietly seethe until the truth explodes from my mouth. “You never intervened when I was being bullied, and none of you ever asked if I was okay because you didn’t care! That is not how friends treat friends.”
I spent every summer with those guys, and walked past them in the halls at West Lorian daily, and not once did any of them ask me how I was. Not once did any of them notice the dark shadows under my eyes, the bruises and bitemarks on my body, or the pain I literally and figuratively carried in every bone, every muscle, every sinew, and every part of my psyche.
“You’re right,” Sawyer says, looking pained. “I’m sorry we didn’t do more.”
“We failed you,” Jackson adds, torment etched across his face. “But we’re here for you now.”
How dare Jackson Lauder swoop into my life now, giving me false hope, making me believe he loved me, only to saunter back out of my life when it suits him.
I’m an idiot for falling for him.
For buying into the bullshit.
JACKSON Page 13
