The Hastings Series

by Vanessa Siena

  “Not sure what you’re on about, but you better stop. I’m not gonna take any of your childish bullshit, and if I were you, I would listen to what I say. Have I made myself clear, sweetheart?”

  And just like that, I was the scared one again and he had all the power over me. I felt weak. I knew I challenged him by talking back, and I also knew he would get mad. I just nodded, hoping he would loosen his grip on me and step away a few feet.

  I had no idea why one minute he made me feel strong and powerful, and scared and unsure the next. He was messing with my head.

  “Are you sure you understood what I just said?” he asked and put his right hand on my lower back, right above my ass. “Because it seems like I didn’t make myself clear when I told you yesterday.”

  I wasn’t moving. I was staring back at him and it felt like he was looking right into my soul. That made me feel uncomfortable, but I couldn’t look away.

  This is a mess, I thought.

  “What’s wrong? Not feeling so confident anymore?” His voice was husky and calmer. But I still caught the amusement in it. His hand traveled up my back, then over my waist and back down to my hip, resting there as he pushed his knee between my legs to push them aside. I leaned back but tried not to fall onto the hood behind me. He was too close and he was making me nervous.

  His eyes stayed on mine while he let his hand slip down over my bottom, giving it a squeeze.

  “Hunter…” I managed to say before I let out a little noise of surprise. Then I moaned. Just from him touching me the way he did. This man was driving me crazy and I didn’t know how to react.

  His head bent down and his lips touched the sensitive spot underneath my ear and I couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. The whole situation was heated and my heart was racing. What was he doing to me?

  “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly against my skin. I tried to speak but his lips felt too good on my skin. I tilted my head to the side, and when he let go of my hand, I gripped his sweater with one hand and put the other on the side of his neck. I heard him chuckle, and suddenly he moved so that he was standing between my legs, pulling me up so I was sitting on the hood of his car.

  His tongue darted out as he licked a line down my neck, leaving a wet trail behind, then kissing the spot right above my collarbone. “Tell me to stop,” he repeated. He was probably testing me. Seeing how far I would let him go. The point was, I liked it. The way his hands felt on my body and the way he kissed my neck was incredible. I wanted more.

  Chapter Seven

  Harlow

  Hunter’s hands were all over my body the moment I didn’t stop him. His left hand was holding me tight against him, pressing my little body into his hard one. He had some muscles, but it wasn’t like he went to the gym. He probably just did some simple workouts at home.

  I felt brave, and one of my hands made its way down to his chest. I could feel him tense under my touch and a slight humming sound came out of his mouth, which was close to my ear. He kissed the soft spot beneath it and put one hand on my neck, holding my head in place while he slowly lifted his.

  His eyes were on mine, looking a bit confused as to why I wasn’t pushing him away from me. The corner of his mouth turned up and he tilted his head to the side, studying me. “You’re enjoying this,” he said, amused. I was still breathing hard, my chest rising and falling with anticipation, hoping he would put his lips on me again.

  I didn’t say a word. I was scared of saying something that would make him leave me like this, sitting on the hood of his car. His smile grew, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

  With one hand on my thigh and the other still holding my neck, he let his eyes wander over my body. I could imagine what he was seeing. From where he was standing, he had the perfect view into my neckline, my breasts pushed up by my bra. My legs were spread, and since my uniform was short, I knew it was pushed up all the way to where my legs and hips met. I wasn’t sure if my underwear was showing, but it was dark and only the moonlight was shining on us.

  I decided not to care what he saw. Watching him eye me intensely made my heart race. And I liked the way he licked his lips as he caressed my thigh up and down. He wasn’t speaking, so I thought I wouldn’t say a word either and just enjoy the moment.

  When he looked back up at me, his eyes were full of desire. For a second I thought he was going to say something, but then decided to not talk and lower his lips to mine. They didn’t touch mine, not at first. I could feel his breath against my lips and my body tingled all over again.

  What is he doing to me?

  My eyes closed and I didn’t move. I gripped his sweater with one hand and put my other hand on his arm. I felt him press his hips against my middle, feeling the big bulge. My legs automatically squeezed together so he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. He chuckled and pulled back his head to look at me again.

  “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” He looked amused by my attempt to hold him close. I was surprised by my actions. Especially since I never really got this close to a guy before. Men normally made me nervous. Not because they were oh so charming or flirtatious, but because I knew how cruel some men could get.

  Growing up I’ve learned not to trust anyone but Jagger. He was the only man I respected and loved. The only one who showed me unconditional affection and support in any situation. Our father decided that being a complete asshole would be best while raising two kids on his own. After I was born, Jagger started first grade. He was only seven, but yet managed to feed me and change my diapers every day. Or every time our father wouldn’t do it because he was drunk, lying on the couch and watching some stupid show instead of taking care of his son and newborn daughter.

  When Jagger started high school, I finally got to go to school too. When Jagger became a freshman in high school, I started first grade. The city we grew up in wasn’t big. Therefore, our school had all age groups, from first graders to seniors in our school had all age groups, from kindergarten to high school. I felt safe every time Jagger held my hand, walking me to my classes and glaring at boys who made fun of both of us because of our clothes. I wore Jagger’s things up until he started working as a pool boy at fifteen and earned some money. As soon as he had filled his piggy bank, he smashed it and took me to the mall, buying me two full outfits. It wasn’t much, but my heart warms every time I think back to that day. Seeing how happy he was to make me happy was all I needed. He was the best brother anyone could ever imagine, and even now he’s doing the best he can to see me smile.

  That day at the mall came to a dramatic end. When we got back home with my new clothes, our father was furious. He had been drinking and probably taking some drugs. He freaked out all of a sudden and started to throw things at us. Keys, remotes, even a chair flew. I cried, not knowing what had gotten into him and Jagger tried to calm him down. At seventeen, he wasn’t well built. He was slim, didn’t eat much because he made sure I had enough. He still managed to push Dad down to the floor, but that didn’t end well.

  I remember sitting next to Jagger on the floor, crying for help because he wasn’t moving. Our father had left after punching Jagger over and over again. I was devastated. I had no phone to call the police or an ambulance, and my crying was so bad that I couldn’t do much but sit there next to him, hoping he would wake up again. I fell asleep next to him and the next morning he was on his feet again, telling me it would all be okay.

  “Low.” I blinked, looking up at a blurry Hunter, who was watching me carefully and frowning. “Are you listening to me?” he asked. He had put some distance between us. I was still sitting on his car and I realized that my eyes were teary.

  “What?”

  “I said are you listening to me. Jesus, Harlow. What the fuck was that about? You scared me.” He put his hand on my cheek, stroking his thumb over my skin underneath my eye. I didn’t realize I was sunken that deep into my thoughts. I felt my cheeks heat, and if there would’ve been any light, Hunter could see how red I was
turning.

  “I’m sorry.” I jumped up and ran my hands through my hair, removing the band holding my ponytail. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, turning to him. He was watching me closely.

  “I need to go home.” Not sure what just happened myself, I hoped he would just agree and take me home. Luckily for me, he didn’t ask any more questions and nodded.

  I will have to do some explaining to him sooner or later.

  Chapter Eight

  Harlow

  The drive home was silent. Neither of us talked, and I felt a bit ashamed of what Hunter just witnessed right when he was touching and kissing me. I didn’t know what came over me. I never had such a realistic and intense memory of my past. I remember dreaming about my father and what he did to Jagger, but after waking up and realizing it was all just a bad dream, I could push the thoughts aside and go on with my day because I knew Jagger and I were doing better now. So much better.

  But right now it felt like all the walls I’d built were crumbling down again. I let a guy who treated me like shit just a few hours ago get to me and touch me in a way I didn’t think I liked. My head was messing with my heart, and my heart was screaming for help. Deep down I knew Hunter wasn’t like my father. Dad had problems, real problems, and he took them all out on his kids. And comparing him to Hunter was not fair. Still, I trusted one guy and one guy only. Jagger.

  Again, it wasn’t fair when it came to Hunter. I liked the way he touched me. And his lips felt good on my skin. But the things he said to me before were rude. So he was messing with me emotionally and mentally.

  The car came to a halt in front of my house. I didn’t want to look up at him and I also didn’t want to get out of the car. I couldn’t without at least thanking him for picking me up after work.

  “Wanna tell me about it?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence between us. I shrugged, not knowing if I wanted him to know. Or did Jagger ever tell him about our past? They’re friends. They probably talk about some stuff, right?

  “You started silently crying while I was touching you. Was I that bad? You could have stopped me, you know.” I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was smiling. Why didn’t I think of that? He probably thought I hated what he was doing and now he feels bad.

  I quickly shook my head and turned to look at him. “You did nothing wrong,” I assured him.

  He nodded, giving me a look saying so what is it then?

  I sighed, looking back down to my hands. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You sure? You look like you’ve seen some sort of monster or something.” He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, pulling deeply to make sure the smoke filled his lungs. He let down the window and propped up his left elbow on the now open frame, holding the cigarette between his middle and pointer finger.

  “Yes. I’m sure. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” I lied. He nodded again and turned on the engine. I guess that meant for me to get out. I reached down to unbuckle myself, but Hunter’s hand touched mine before I could do so.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  I looked up at him, frowning. “Home,” I simply said, confused as to why he brought me here, and now wanted me to stay inside his car.

  “You need to eat first.” He put my hand back into my lap and then the car started to move again.

  “Why did you drive home then? What about Jagger?” I asked, still wondering what his plan was.

  “Jagger is out anyway.” Oh, great. Good that he knows more about where my brother is than I do.

  “Why did you drive me home?” I asked again since he smoothly ignored that question.

  “Because you were crying a few minutes ago. Then you told me it’s nothing, but your eyes tell a whole other story. You seemed terrified. You still do.” He took a look at me and shrugged. “You’re not okay. And I know girls. When they’re sad they won’t eat and you have to eat.”

  Right. “How would you know I wouldn’t eat tonight?” I raised a brow, challenging his observation and knowledge of sad girls.

  He shrugged again. “I wouldn’t. But your fridge is empty, anyway.”

  Looking back down to my hands, I decided to give up right away. He was probably right. It’s the end of the month and I had to go grocery shopping soon.

  He stayed quiet for a while before stopping at a red light. He took one last pull on his cigarette before throwing it out of the window and rolling it back up. “What do you wanna eat?” he finally asked.

  “Ribs and wedges?” I suggested. He looked surprised.

  “That was quick,” He laughed and puckered his lips. He was amused.

  “Why?”

  “Because most times girls have a hard time deciding what they want to eat.”

  There is his knowledge of women again. I rolled my eyes, looking out of the window. “Not every girl is the same, Hunter.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. But you’re one of them who stands out the most.”

  I blushed. How could an arrogant guy like him say words like that and make me feel so special? Yesterday he was all pissed and moody toward me.

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough.”

  The light turned green and he stepped on the gas, making the car move again.

  What did he know? Surely, Jagger never told him about our past and I also never talked to Hunter. Not before he came to sleep over at our place yesterday. So what would he know about me?

  “Stop thinking too much, sweetheart.”

  I realized I was studying my hands intensely, frowning. Looking back up at him, he had his eyes on me but looked back to the road with an almost mischievous smile.

  One thing I knew for sure—Hunter read me like a book and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

  Chapter Nine

  Harlow

  We arrived at a diner I knew was open twenty-four/seven. Not sure how they managed to do that, but they were right on the highway where lots of cars drove by, so I guess it makes sense that they never close.

  Hunter parked and got out of the car, walking around the front, and just as I thought he would be a gentleman and open my door, he took out his famous cigarettes and lit one. Feeling a bit embarrassed for waiting in the car, thinking he would actually help me out, I finally opened the door and stepped out.

  His phone was out in one hand now, and he looked down at the screen, tapping on it now and then. “You can go in. I’ll just have to make a quick call,” he informed me and took some steps to the side. I nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it. He was already holding up his device to his hoodie-covered ear.

  I looked up at the sky and the moon was visible for a change. There was usually fog all over Hastings. The sun barely shone and rain was what we got most days. I liked it. Never was a big fan of the big, round burning ball in the sky.

  I took one last look over at Hunter, finding him standing there with his eyes on me and lifting one corner of his mouth upwards before I turned to walk into the diner.

  It wasn’t very different from Frankie’s. The booths were newer and the floor was probably newly tiled. It also smelled fresh inside and music was playing from the speakers. A girl behind the counter smiled at me and simply asked: “Dinner?”

  I nodded, smiling back at her and deciding that she was polite. Girls at Hastings College were usually in a bad mood most of the times. And more than half of them were obnoxious. I didn’t really like them. Mostly because I knew I would never be as fashionable and smart as them. Yes, smart. I wasn’t stupid or anything, but those girls were book-smart. I, on the other hand, was street-smart.

  That’s what Jagger always told me. And still does. He says: “We’ve been through shit these girls haven’t and they would never know what it’s like to fight to get somewhere or something. They are spoiled. You, Low, you know what it’s like to live. And you know how to survive.”

  “Will your boyfriend out there come and eat too?” the girl asked me when she ste
pped around from behind the counter and pointed outside the large window.

  “I—” I started to say, looking in the direction she was pointing. “Oh, no. I mean, yes. But he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Shame.” She pouted. I wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not, but she showed me to a free table. “Make yourself comfortable. What would you like to drink?”

  I sat down, taking off my jacket, then looking at her name which was written on the nameplate.

  Bliss.

  “That’s a nice name,” I told her instead of answering her question. She smiled, showing off two very deep dimples in her cheeks. Her red lipstick was perfectly drawn on her lips and it complemented her silver, short hair. Looking at her now, she reminded me of a model.

  “Why, thank you, darling. Now, enough about me. Tell me what you and your guy-friend want to drink.”

  Oh, God. I must be very annoying. “Two Cokes, please.”

  She went back to the counter, smiling at the other customers in the diner. She sure knew how to be a good waitress.

  She was soon back with the two Cokes, putting them down in front of me. “So, you wanna order already, or do you wanna wait for him?” She nodded toward the window and I shook my head.

  “We’ll have the wedges and ribs, please.” She nodded again, grinning this time. “So, are you two on a date or something? Because if you are, I would never wait on a man.”

  “Oh, no. We’re not dating. He’s my brother’s friend, that’s all.” I smiled at her, hoping she would finally let that subject go.

  “Shame,” she said again. “He’s handsome.” With that, she left the table again and I took a deep breath and leaned back. I just wanted to eat and then go to bed. Is that too much to ask?