The Hastings Series

by Vanessa Siena

  “So, tell me, Jagger…where are you from? And what made you come to Newton?” Chelsea was a real attention seeker, the way she pushed her elbows against the side of her breasts to make them seem even bigger. I kept my eyes on hers, trying not to fall for her little game.

  “I’m from Nebraska. I needed a fresh start.” I kept my sentences short because there was no fucking reason for her to know all about my past and reasons. I glanced over to the booth Gray was sitting at with Joey and Sage on the opposite. They were talking, and I could tell Gray wasn’t in the mood for either of them.

  “Fifteen minutes!” I heard Levi shout from the other side of the bar and people immediately started moving toward the door leading down to the cage. I looked over at him, then back at Gray. She wasn’t watching the fight. The way she talked about Dallas’s fights, I knew she wasn’t going to follow Sage and her boyfriend downstairs. Again, I looked over at Levi, who was walking toward me. “You wanna go watch the fight?” he asked, taking a glance at Chelsea and her rather quiet and less annoying friend, Laine.

  Neither of them was moving though, and I wondered if they wanted to see Dallas fight or not. “Uh, I think I’ll stay up here.” I didn’t need a real reason to make Levi go. He just nodded and walked around the bar area to get to the door. Another look at Chelsea and Laine, and the less vocal one finally stood up from her stool. “Come on, Chelsea. Let’s go see the fight. I bid on Dally.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Laine’s nickname for Dallas. Did he know they called him Dally? “Yeah, you should go watch. He’s great,” I pushed, hoping Chelsea would finally get up off her ass and follow her friend.

  “I don’t know. I’d much rather sit here and talk to the new guy. Maybe some alone time will break the ice between us.” I started to hate her voice. High pitched and annoying as fuck. She sounded like a child, which probably helped with older men, but my patience-meter was falling to the negatives.

  “You should really go watch the fight,” I urged, and my heart rate picked up as Gray came up behind Chelsea with a deep frown on her forehead.

  “Ah, there you are, sweetheart.” I smiled at Gray and hoped it didn’t scare her off. I needed Chelsea to get off my back though. Calling Gray my sweetheart felt right in all kinds of ways and it made her smile bright. It appeared as if she wasn’t sure what to say though.

  Chelsea turned in her stool and looked at Gray, her expression hidden from me. Hopefully, she wasn’t trying to scare her off. “Hello, Chelsea.” Gray’s voice didn’t sound pleased. Shit, so they knew each other.

  “Gray, so good to see you again. I didn’t know you had a…boyfriend.” Chelsea turned back to meet my eyes, then lifted her tattooed eyebrows and let out a laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you liked girls like her.” She got up from her stool, linked her arm with Laine’s, and looked at Gray again. “I hope your brother wins tonight. I promised him a little surprise if he does.”

  They walked off, and all this time Chelsea was talking, I felt my insides heat up. That seemingly sweet act of hers was just a mask she put on to flirt. Her ugliness quickly showed the moment she realized another girl had my full attention over her.

  The second the two friends were out of sight, Gray rolled her eyes and let out a growling noise. “What a bitch!” she exclaimed, then walked around the bar to stand by my side. I couldn’t stop a chuckle escaping me, and I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. “So, you know her?”

  She laughed, throwing her head back, then closing her eyes and sighing. “Who doesn’t know her? She’s incredibly annoying. She’s the senator’s ex-wife. He filed for divorce some years ago because she was going out with college guys. I see she hasn’t changed, the way she looked at you.”

  I puckered my lips, nodding quickly and then smiling at her. “If it makes you feel better, I was hoping for her to stop talking to me.”

  “I don’t need you to make me feel better. I know her and I think I know you well enough. You wouldn’t fall for her attempts of getting you naked and over her,” Gray assured me, and I was glad she thought that way. Because it was true. I wasn’t into older women anyway. Especially like Chelsea.

  I smiled again, reaching for her waist, and pulling her against my body. My hands stayed on her lower back, with my thumb caressing her. I needed to change the subject. “What did Dallas say about our road trip?” I asked, looking down into her eyes.

  They lit up the second I finished my sentence. “He’s letting me go with you.” Perfect.

  A grin spread on my lips and I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Can’t wait. It will be fun.”

  Gray nodded, with her lips pressed together tightly and her eyes still sparkling. They moved to my lips, and her hands made their way over my chest, then stopped once her arms were wrapped around my neck. “Will you call me sweetheart again?”

  Her voice was sweet and low, almost like a whisper. I grinned, loving the fact that she didn’t miss that. “I was indecisive on whether or not to call you Rusty instead.” That made her laugh, and one of her hands gripped the back of my head, pulling at my hair with just enough force.

  “You’re an idiot,” she mumbled with a grin, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss my lips softly. Luckily, we were all alone at the bar since everyone else was watching the fight. I moved my hands over her bottom, squeezing it tightly to show her just how much I wished we were in my bedroom. Both of her hands were now buried inside my hair, tugging at it the way I liked her to.

  I felt my heart speed up again, wishing her lips wouldn’t feel so damn good against mine. Another part of my body started to move, and I felt my dick getting bigger in my pants. Our tongues touched, and I squeezed her ass once more before wrapping my arms around her back tightly.

  “We should stop,” she moaned against my lips, her words contradicting the sounds that came out of her mouth. But she was right. Someone could walk in on us any second, so I dipped my tongue into her mouth one last time before pulling back and getting some distance between us. I kept my eyes on hers, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She looked happy. Satisfied.

  Something was still lingering on my mind and I needed an explanation for it. With a grin, I tilted my head and asked, “How many people call your brother Dally?”

  Gray let out a laugh, throwing her head back again. Fuck me…I loved it when she did that. “Just Chelsea and Laine. I cringe every time I hear them say it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gray

  My gallery was open on Monday and I was working on a painting for an older guy who specifically asked for a portrait of his late wife. I wouldn’t say I was bad at painting humans, but it wasn’t my strong suit. I gave my all to resemble the beautiful young woman on the picture onto the canvas, to meet my customer’s high expectations. The picture was of his wife in her early twenties, taken right after they got married in 1962. She looked happy, and her eyes did not hide the love she felt for her husband. Mr. Carlisle had told me things about her. What she loved, what she disliked, and all the ups and downs they had before and after marriage.

  The painting of her was coming along slowly. I was careful not to overdo but capture all the small details her husband loved so much about her. The little mole right next to her left eye, or the dimple that only appeared on her left cheek when she smiled. Mr. Carlisle wanted me to capture just that. The little things.

  I was concentrated on the neutral colors I was mixing on my palette so that I didn’t notice the woman coming inside my gallery. I was in the studio in the back and watched as she walked around, eyeing the painting I was trying to sell. I put down my brush and palette, then walked toward the gallery to greet my guest.

  “Hello, thank you for coming to my gallery. Is there something I can show you?” The woman turned to look at me, and with a tight smile, she nodded.

  “Yes. I was looking for an abstract painting for my living room. I was thinking of some sort of…intense, violent art piece.” Her voice was low, yet strong and determined. S
he was creeping me out, to be fully honest. And to request such a painting was also new to me. I looked over at my paintings and puckered my lips, trying to remember if I’d ever painted something “intense and violent.” Not sure why anyone would want such a painting in their living room for everyone to see, but if that’s what my new customer wanted, then I could give it to her.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever done such a painting, but I take requests.” I smiled and grabbed the notebook from the table next to me and opened it on an empty page, ready to write in it. “I do any size of canvas, oil or acrylics, and the price will depend on the time it takes for me to finish it,” I explained and looked back into her eyes. Something felt off, but I had many customers who didn’t give me positive vibes but turned out to be the ones who paid a lot. I needed that to survive. To pay rent and eat every day.

  “Sounds fair,” the woman said and turned to look at one of the paintings again.

  “Let’s take a seat.” I pointed to the two chairs in the corner of the gallery and she made her way toward them, sitting in the one next to the window. “One second,” I told her, walking back to my studio and taking a bottle of water out of the mini fridge, then grabbing two glasses and walking back to where the woman was waiting on me. I put down the water and glasses, filled both up, and sat down on the empty chair. With my notebook open and ready on my lap, I looked up to start questioning her.

  “May I have your name?” I asked, putting the end of my pen on the paper.

  “Yes, Annie.” That’s all she said, and I didn’t push to ask for her last name since she obviously wasn’t going to tell me herself. I wrote down her name, then looked up again.

  “And your phone number? So that I can contact you as soon as I’m done with the painting or if I have any questions during the process.”

  “I prefer email,” she explained calmly, then went ahead and told me her email address.

  The numbers in her email address resembled a birth date, but it was impossible for it to be hers since she was much older than someone born in 1993. Probably one of her children? Or maybe it was a special date for her. I wasn’t digging deeper into that. Not my business.

  “All right. So, intense and violent…” I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation since my past paintings were never painted out of negativity, so I tried to start with the easier things.

  “What colors do you have in mind?” I asked, giving Annie a smile, hoping to receive one in return instead of her deep frown.

  “Dark blues and browns. Some black. Maybe with a hint of white here and there. White showing off the hope I feel. And the dark colors telling the story of my past. That horrible and hurtful time I had to live through with my own family.”

  Shit. That got dark very fast. I pressed my lips into a thin line, writing down what Annie was telling me. So, she had a troubled past including her family, but she still had hope. Well, that’s good, right?

  “And how would you envision the type of art matching your story? Realistic, or more abstract?” I was trying to figure out if there was more to the story, or if she would even let me in on it so I had more details.

  “Abstract. It’s a whirlwind. Nothing’s clear, but there’s something about it that lets everybody know there is still something to fight for, even if it looks dark and twisted.” Her words made me shiver. Her eyes and the way she looked at me were empty, as if there was no emotion in them, yet her words contradicted them.

  I wrote it down again, then bit my bottom lip and tried to imagine the canvas in front of me. “I have something in mind. What about the size of the canvas?” I pointed to a wall where there were five different sized paintings, ranging from smallest to biggest.

  She looked over at them, then quickly back to me. “The biggest one. This is a huge matter for me. And I want this painting to play a big part in my new home too.” It didn’t make much sense to me. Why would she want such a dark painting on her wall, when she’s telling me right now how bad her past was? But then, I was just the artist. Whatever my customers want, I give them.

  “That might take several weeks, but I will keep you updated, and you are always welcome to come by and look at it. If there’s something you would like changed, it’s best if you come by once a week or so,” I told her. She nodded, then got up from her chair.

  “Is there anything else?” she asked, already walking toward the exit. I quickly got up. “Yes, actually. There’s a small deposit you have to pay right now just to assure you’re taking this project seriously.” I walked over to the counter where I had an already filled paper ready for customers to sign.

  Annie looked up at me, then walked to the counter and stopped in front of it. I slid the paper over to her, pointing to a line where her signature would be going. “It’s one hundred and fifty dollars for the big painting, and I accept cash and credit.” I smiled again because she looked annoyed. I hated to make people give me money on the spot, but if they wanted a custom painting, they have to pay me first. Dallas made me start this policy since there were some teens months ago who messed with me and acted like they wanted a portrait painted of themselves. I started painting but never heard from them again. I wasted a shit load of paint and time. I don’t want that to happen again.

  Annie pulled out her wallet from her bag, zipped it open, and took out one hundred and fifty dollars cash out of it. She put the bills on the counter, then signed the paper, and looked back up at me. “I hope I won’t be disappointed.” With that, she turned and left my gallery, without any other word spoken.

  I let out a breath. I was holding it in all the time she was here, and I didn’t notice how nervous she made me feel. That woman was creepy. But now I had a big project to start working on and that I was excited about.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jagger

  I told Gray to wait outside her apartment on Tuesday at eleven a.m. so we could get lunch before heading to Hastings without stopping on the way. I texted Low to let her know that we would be there in the afternoon, and she made sure to prepare my old bedroom for us to sleep in. I still had a spare key for the house, and we would stop there before heading to the diner to see my sister and Hunter. I was a little nervous to let Gray into my life and let her meet my family, but on the other hand, I was excited to spend some time with her.

  My car stopped in front of Gray, who was standing there, waiting with a small duffle bag next to her feet. I got out of the car and walked over to her, smiling back while she lifted the bag from the ground.

  “Nice car,” she told me, then grabbed my sweatshirt with one hand and leaned in to kiss me softly. I put both my hands on either side of her head, kissing her back and holding her close for a few seconds and enjoying her lips on mine. I loved how comfortable we were with each other, even openly on the street, yet I had to find out where this was heading. We felt good when we spent time together, and we acted as if we were a couple. Well, we were dating, but dating itself had such a huge range between we’re just figuring things out but let’s have fun for now and I really like this person and hope I could call him or her my boyfriend or girlfriend. Personally, I was leaning toward the second one, but I had to find out where Gray was standing.

  I leaned back, licking my lips, and looking into her eyes with a smug grin. “Glad you like it. You ready?” I grabbed the bag from her hand and opened the trunk to put it inside, next to my duffle bag. I made sure not to pack too much, and Gray’s bag wasn’t heavy either.

  “Where do you park your car? I’ve never seen it when I came over to your place.” I closed the trunk and turned back to her, then looked at the car I considered the only non-human thing I loved.

  “Around the block. A little hidden and secure. I don’t want anyone to hit it while parking in that narrow parking space in front of the building,” I explained, hoping that it didn’t sound weird.

  Gray nodded, eyeing the car again with a smile. “Isn’t a car like this expensive as hell?”

  I shrugged, pushing my fists
into my front pockets. “I restored it when I was working at the mechanic’s. I saw it at a scrapyard while looking for some pieces for the other cars, so I bought it and worked on it whenever I got the time to. It’s a Mustang Coupe from the year 1967. Old on the outside, but pretty new on the inside.” I loved my car a little too much. Not sure if Gray was really interested in it, or just trying to make conversation.

  No, she seems fairly interested. We never talked about anything either of us was annoyed with, I thought. I was not going to be unsure about this now. If she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t have agreed to come to Hastings with me. She wants to be here.

  “I like it,” she assured me, then nodded toward the car. “Should we go?”

  “Yes, here.” I opened the door to the passenger seat and let her get inside. Closing the door again, I walked around the car and got in myself, immediately putting on the seatbelt. Gray did the same, then leaned back and sighed. “I’m so excited to see your old hometown. I’ll admit…I went on Google Earth to check it out.”

  I chuckled, then started the car. “And what did you think of it? A little broken-down small town, huh?” I said with a grin because Hastings wasn’t as appealing as Newton for people to visit.

  “I think it looks interesting. And I bet it’s better than on Google Earth. I can’t wait to meet your sister and Hunter.” I could hear her smile in her voice, so I kept my eyes on the street in front of me. “Harlow’s excited too. You’ll like each other,” I assured her and put my right hand on her thigh to give it a squeeze.

  “So, we’ll be staying in your old home?” Gray asked and I nodded. “Low wants to use my room for the nursery, but my things are still in there. I gotta warn you already. The walls are quite thin in that house.” That was enough of a hint for her since she let out a small laugh and shrugged. “I think I can handle that. They’re a couple. It’s normal, and I’ve often heard Dallas when we still lived at our parents’ home.”