The Hastings Series

by Vanessa Siena

  Love. Holy fuck.

  “Oh, my God…” I buried my face into my hands and felt my cheeks burn immediately. I heard him chuckle, and as I looked back up at him, he was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

  I eyed him for a while, both of us not saying a word but trying to figure out what to say next. I told him that I loved him last night, and I was drunk. So, that would be a great excuse if it was a lie. I kept my eyes on him, studying his face, and he was doing the same. He looked way more relaxed than I was, though. Good for him. I took a deep breath, then looked down at my hands.

  “I guess I’ve fallen in love with you,” I whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jagger

  “You seem sad about it.” I kept looking at her, trying to figure out what she was really thinking. Gray lifted her head, then shook it and smiled with unshed tears in her eyes. “Because it’s too early, isn’t it?” she asked.

  My brow lifted, and I cocked my head in question. “You think so? Isn’t that the one thing no one can control about love?” I walked over to her, squatting down in front of her and taking both her hands into mine. I smiled, hoping to make her feel better.

  “You’re amused about it, Jagger. And I was drunk. I shouldn’t have said it.” Her voice was shaky, almost scared. And her facial expression seemed worried as if she were about to get her heart ripped out of her chest.

  “I think it was sweet. I wasn’t sure you were serious at first…but drunken words are sober thoughts.” I grinned. “Harlow always says that,” I pointed out.

  She kept her eyes on mine, and I knew she was waiting on something. Some sort of answer to her confession. I squeezed her hands, pulling both to my lips to kiss them. “We’re on the same page, Gray.”

  Her eyes lit up, but there was still uncertainty in them. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better. I can take it back. We should spend some more time together before we open up about our feelings.” She got up from the chair, making me stand up again.

  “I take it back. I have not yet fallen for you, Jagger Curtis,” she mumbled, but clear enough for me to hear. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Raising both eyebrows, I watched her rub her eyes and run her hands through her hair. Well, this is amusing.

  “Not so sure you can take back things like that,” I smirked.

  “’Course I can. I just did.” She shrugged, her eyes back in mine, wide and expressive. “I don’t have feelings for you yet,” she told me boldly, and I was close to laughing out loud.

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping to officially call you my girlfriend from now on, but that’s not happening then, hm?” I teased.

  “No, it’s not.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, chewing on her bottom lip.

  I waited a minute, then moved toward her. She didn’t move one bit until I was close enough to put my hands on her hips and pull her even closer. “Are you done denying that you’re in love with me? Because if not, I’d be more than happy to change your mind while I fuck you right here on the kitchen counter,” I whispered. I leaned down to kiss her neck, then the soft spot underneath her ear. “You think that would work?” I whispered against her skin and I felt her shiver.

  “I…don’t know,” she panted, and I pressed another kiss to her neck. This time, my tongue licked her warm skin, and a moan escaped her.

  That was a good enough answer for me. I picked her up by the waist and lifted her onto the counter next to us. Pulling her legs apart, I made myself comfortable between them and pressed her upper body against mine, with one hand on her lower back, and the other on the back of her head. Our lips touched, and her hands found their way to my hair, gripping it tightly and pulling me closer to her.

  “I lied,” she breathed against my lips.

  I chuckled, breaking the kiss, and looking at her. “No shit.” I grinned, pulling her shirt out of the waistband of her skirt, and taking it off so I had easier access to her bra.

  My eyes moved from her breasts to her face. I had to let her know that I was in this with her. Deeply. Cupping both her cheeks in my hands, I held her head in place and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Gray. And there’s no fucking way we’re moving too fast. Even if, I wouldn’t care. All I want is you. Now, and hopefully forever.” She was the only one I had ever said those words to. The only one who deserved to hear them from me, and the only one I wanted to say the same words back to me.

  Her eyes were full of lust, and there was a hint of happiness in them. She touched one hand to mine on her cheek, then turned her face to kiss the palm of my hand softly, her eyes still on mine. “I love you too,” she whispered with a soft smile. “We can make this work, right?”

  “Fuck, yeah. Last thing I want is to get beat up by your brother. Didn’t have a real fight in a while. Don’t wanna risk it.” I laughed.

  My lips where back on hers and my hands tugged on her bra’s clasps to unhook them. It didn’t take long before her bra landed on the floor next to my feet, and my hands cupped her breasts. “You’re beautiful,” I told her as my lips left hers again, and with one quick look into her eyes, I lowered my head to suck on her left nipple, then the right one. Her hands were in my hair again, and by tugging on it, she made my cock throb in my pants.

  “Feels so good,” she moaned, and I squeezed her breasts while my tongue was circling those little nubs.

  “Come here,” I drawled, helping her off the counter and turning her around so she would lean over, with her ass up against my cock. She looked back at me, her bottom wiggling against me impatiently.

  I moved my hand between her thighs, lifting her skirt up to her hips so I was able to pull down her panties. But before I did that, I let my fingers move over the soft, slightly wet fabric, making Gray squeeze her legs together to stop me from teasing her.

  “Jagger…” she moaned, lifting her ass up into the air even higher. I smirked, pushing her legs apart and holding them open with my foot against one of hers. “I’m getting there, love. Take it easy,” I told her, but she was not up for that.

  “Just fuck me already,” she urged.

  With a quick pull on her slip, I let them fall down her legs and with my pants quickly unbuttoned, I pulled my briefs off and kicked them away. I grabbed my already hard cock and moved the tip of it between her folds.

  “I’m on birth control,” she said. Her eyes were on me, and I glanced at her before pushing inside her tight pussy. “Oh, God,” she whimpered, and I stopped moving for a second.

  “Jagger’s just fine, beautiful.”

  She tried to laugh, but a sigh escaped. “Just fuck me already,” she ordered, and I wouldn’t let her ask a third time. With my hands tightly grabbing her ass, I started to pump into her as fast and hard as I could. She moved back, meeting my thrusts, and it made me feel so fucking good as well. It was after three in the morning already, but I wasn’t stopping until she begged me to.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Gray

  On Monday, I was back at work and trying to paint without the thought of Jagger distracting me every two minutes. The last weekend we spent together was incredibly nice. We stayed at his place, ate a lot, watched movies, and had sex in every corner of the apartment. When I woke up this morning and got out of bed, the soreness from the day before only got worse. I wasn’t mad about it, but it reminded me of the many orgasms both Jagger and I had in just two nights. He knew exactly what he had to do and where to touch me to make me come, and I learned a lot about his body too.

  But before I could get a chance to imagine his cock all hard and veiny, the door to my gallery opened and every single muscle in my body tensed. Annie walked in, and just like the first time she was here, my mood somehow changed. She was dressed in all black, and the frown between her brows told me that she wasn’t having a good day.

  “Have you started my painting yet?” she asked without greeting me.

  “Uh…no, I have not. It’s next on my list, thou
gh,” I told her with a smile, hoping she would lighten up too.

  “I didn’t express my thoughts well the first time. I see my expectations are challenging for you, so I came to tell you a little story about my family. Maybe then you’ll understand what I would like you to put on that canvas,” she said in a raspy voice. She sure had one or two cigarettes too many in her past, but I wasn’t going to judge her because of that. It surprised me that she came to talk. She didn’t seem like a woman of many words, and she didn’t seem very social, either.

  “That sounds great. Please, take a seat,” I offered, pointing to the chairs in the corner of the room. She sat down and pulled a small notebook out of her jacket. I put down the palette and brush I was holding and sat down on the other chair. “I love hearing stories connected to the paintings I’m about to create. It really helps, and I can put the emotion into it much better,” I explained.

  She nodded once, then looked up from the book. “I figured. I guess I was never ready to talk about it, but you seem to be the right person for it.” I didn’t think so, because I wasn’t a therapist, but if it meant a happy customer, I was willing to become one for an hour.

  “I have two children. Well, they’re grown up, but I haven’t seen them since they were little kids. I never cared much about the little one, but my son, he was the only one I tried to take care of. It was hard with the husband I had at the time. Addicted and violent. It’s a miracle my kids survived being around him for so long. But you must understand that my husband wasn’t a bad man. He had issues. He was mentally ill but didn’t want any help. I loved him so much, but I had to escape him, and all the harm he caused.”

  I was listening closely, and at first, I wanted to stop her from talking anymore. The story already started like a nightmare, and now I understood her vision for the painting.

  “I left them both with him, all alone. There was no one who could’ve helped them when he was mad. No one to protect them from his vile intentions and hurtful actions. They were little kids, but I guess my oldest realized the pain his father caused his own daughter, so he packed up one day and ran away with her. I knew where they went. Where they hid from my husband. I never showed my face to them for my own safety.” She stopped for a second, then let out a hard laugh. “You see, my son…he decided to become just as violent as his father.”

  “I’m sorry, Annie…I think I understand now,” I said, hoping to not hear more of that story. I thought she would only talk about some superficial things. Maybe a simple fight between her and her husband, or a family feud. But this was more than I wanted to hear, and I needed her to stop right there.

  “Him becoming violent is not even the best part.” She smirked. Not sure why it was so amusing to her, but I couldn’t just kick her out. I took in a deep breath and braced myself what she told me next.

  “I made sure my husband knew where they lived, so he could go ask for some help. Some money and support. I couldn’t give it to him, with my new man and newborn around. I watched it all from afar. That’s all I was able to do. But then, one evening, and just as I thought there was a reunion between the three of them, my son…” She stopped again, and her eyes looked almost crazed.

  “My son shot him. No mercy, nothing. Just pure emptiness in his eyes while he watched his own father fall to the ground with a damn bullet in his chest. Who knows how many people he has killed before with the same lack of emotions.”

  I couldn’t move. Her story didn’t seem right, and I couldn’t believe it was the truth. How could a son kill his own father while his sister was watching? I should hate the guy, but something inside me told me that he wasn’t the only bad guy in the story. Something must’ve driven him to do such a cruel thing.

  “Look at him,” Annie said, pulling a photograph from between the pages of her book. “I hope it helps with the painting,” she added, putting down the picture of her son onto the small table between us. With no other words, Annie got up and left my gallery. As I heard the door close, I felt release come over me, but there was still uncertainty and an unwell feeling inside of me.

  I reached for the photograph, holding it up closer to see the face of the little boy on it. It was black and white, his face showed little to no emotion, even though the corners of his mouth were turned upward slightly. His eyes said a lot compared to the rest of him. There were panic, pain, and helplessness in them, and his hair stuck up on all sides, not being brushed in a while.

  Then, something on the boy’s face caught my attention. A scar, from under his ear down to the middle of the side of his neck suddenly became the focus of the picture. I couldn’t look away, because it reminded me so much of something I’d seen a lot in the past months. That scar was part of the man I loved, and my heart clenched at the thought of Jagger being the main character of the story Annie told me minutes ago.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Jagger

  It surprised me how intelligent, yet incredibly detestable a person could be. My mother was no exception, and with her standing in front of my car as I turned the corner, I knew she wasn’t here to show her nice side after years of being gone. I even thought about turning around and leaving, but if I did that, she might never leave again.

  Walking toward her, I decided not to create drama. “How did you find me?” I asked calmly, shoving both my hands into my front pockets. She eyed me for a while, then tilted her head and shrugged.

  “Internet,” she simply said. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  “Fuck, no,” I spit, then quickly tried to relax again. No fucking drama needed with this woman around. Honestly, it was no surprise to see her here. I’m just glad she’s not in Hastings, hunting Harlow down. Ann never cared for Harlow. Just packed her stuff and left after coming back from the hospital, leaving her alone with me and fucking Dean.

  “What are you doing here?” Not that I cared, I just wanted her to move along.

  “Can’t a mother visit her son after not hearing from him in years? Oh, Jagger, I thought I raised you well enough.”

  “Apparently not.” I sighed. “I have work to attend to,” I pointed out, but she wasn’t taking the hint.

  “Turns out I don’t live far from here. But before I came here, I tried to find your father back in Nevada. I figured he’d still be there after you took your sister to Nebraska. I quickly found out he was dead,” she said in an amused tone. “Shot by his own damn son,” she added.

  “Who told you?” I asked, cursing myself for letting her this close now.

  “Didn’t have to ask anyone.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I ran my hands through my hair, gritting my teeth and trying to stay calm. “You need to leave,” I told her, now looking at her again.

  She laughed at me and shook her head. “I can’t. There’s this wonderful artist down by the railways creating an intense artwork for our family story. I think you know her…ginger hair, sweet face…”

  Gray.

  “What did you tell her?” I warned, grabbing the keys out of my pocket, and stalking over to the car door. “I swear to God…if she’s upset because of you, then—”

  “Then, what? Will you kill me too? Just like you did with your own father?” She seemed to enjoy this, and she was lucky no one was around to hear her say those things. The last thing I needed was for the whole town to know that I pulled a fucking gun on my father.

  “We’re not done here,” I promised her, then drove off to hopefully find Gray at her workplace.

  ***

  “Gray,” I called out as I entered her gallery, and I quickly found her sitting in one of the chairs she had in a corner. She was holding something in her hand, but the way she was sitting, I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I quickly walked over, squatting down in front of her and looking up into her face. She looked worried and confused, with her eyes full of questions.

  “Hey,” I said softly, lowering my eyes to the picture now. It was me she was holding on to, and the hate I felt toward my mother grew with each s
econd that passed.

  “Is it true?” Her voice was quiet, almost not audible for me. I wasn’t going to lie, but I wasn’t asking her what Ann told her, either.

  “I didn’t know she was in town. Hell, I haven’t heard from her in over twenty years. Whatever she said…just know that I’m not who she said I was.” My attempt to make her feel better didn’t work, and she kept looking at the picture in her hands.

  “Gray, love…” I whispered, squeezing her thighs lightly. “Let me explain, okay?”

  Slowly, her eyes met mine and the tears started to fall. “I should be afraid of you. I should hate you,” she sobbed, and that was one reason why I wanted to chase Ann away from Newton.

  “I know. And you have every right to. But I promise you, Gray…that’s not who I am. I can explain. I made mistakes. Lots of them. But one thing I know for sure is that I don’t ever want to push you away from me. I love you,” I told her, and another sob escaped her chest.

  She didn’t speak, and that was the best opportunity for me to take her into my embrace and comfort her, even if she wasn’t sure what to think about what Ann told her. I wanted her close, and I wanted her to keep trusting me. I pulled her to me, as close as possible, and I wrapped my arms around her as tight as ever. She hid her face into my neck, and I caressed the back of her head with one hand.

  “Let me explain,” I repeated, and she slowly shook her head. Pulling back from me, I hoped I didn’t feel the shake of her head for real.

  “I need to be alone for a while. You have work in ten minutes,” she reminded me, but I didn’t feel like leaving.

  “You’re upset. I won’t leave you here without being sure that you’re okay,” I told her, but she shook her head. “Please leave, Jagger.”

  At this point, I couldn’t read her face like before. Her emotions left, and I had no chance of knowing what she was thinking. “You’re upset,” I repeated, but she didn’t want to hear that.