by Cassie James
I blink at him, completely baffled that he’s bringing this up right now. I might now own the Lexington fortune, but I’m not touching any of it so long as Pearl is still kicking. And even then, I’m not sure I could ever go against the wishes of the woman who took me in instead of making me an orphan.
I can’t say any of that without being rude, though. I give him a noncommittal, “Uh-huh,” instead.
Brock looks around us, his eyes scanning the extravagant entryway of the house in a shrewd kind of way. When his eyes finally fall back to me, there’s genuine concern in them. “You need to be careful, Juliet. Pearl’s played the gatekeeper here, and now that will fall to you.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in Hollis’ treasure?”
“I don’t.” His mouth tightens into a thin line. “But other people do. And believing in something that doesn’t exist? That’s far more dangerous.”
He’s not wrong. How many times has Pearl had to scare a light night visitor off because they were convinced they could find Hollis’ rumored treasure? While most of them were easily scared off, a few of the more determined ones have made return trips over the last year. None of them have ever been violent or destructive, really, but it’s not hard to imagine that if someone got desperate enough, they might become both of those things.
“Just keep it in mind,” Brock tells me with a half shrug.
He crosses the entryway as if to leave, but I’m not quite done talking. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
He turns back to me. “You always do.”
I flush a little bit at the insinuation that I ask too many questions. I’m a curious girl, sure, and my curiosity hasn’t always served me well, but I try not to overdo it. There’s just something I’ve always wondered about for awhile.
“That first night I met you, at The Patience Club, Kathryn Lassiter approached you. Why weren’t you interested?” The age obviously wasn’t the issue, considering his interactions with me and the way his eyes keep flickering to check me out in the most obvious way.
Brock runs a hand over his beard as he genuinely seems to think about my question. “Kathryn Lassiter had a reputation. She might screw you—but she’d also screw you over. Braver men than me faced the consequences of touching her.” He shudders like it horrifies him just to think about.
“What about Cece?” I don’t know what it is I’m looking for. Answers? Insight? All I know is this is like a train-wreck that I can’t stop looking at.
“Cece Winchester?” A shrewd look comes over his face. “I don’t know. Most of the men thought she was a little too far up the crazy side of the hot-crazy scale. Personally, it always seemed like an act to me. If a girl seemed crazy enough, a man might make the mistake of thinking she’ll miss little details. Like things he says in her company that he otherwise might not have. Do you see what I’m saying?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.
It’s almost like he’s suggesting that there’s something Cece might have overheard that would matter to me, but I can’t imagine what on earth it would be. Damn him for stoking the fire of my natural curiosity. Now, it’s going to drive me crazy.
As if anticipating me having more questions, he tells me, “That’s really all I’ve got for you. It shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise considering your own background, but people aren’t always what they initially seem. Watch your back, Miss Lexington.” And with that, he sees himself out, leaving me even more confused than before.
What the hell does Cece know?
Chapter Thirteen
Yet another party. I’m not sure how many more of these I can stomach. There’s only so much time a person can spend entertaining themselves by watching everyone else get drunk. And I’m about tapped out.
It doesn’t help that Salma’s hosting again since her parents are out of town as some pharmaceutical conference for the weekend. I keep looking over my shoulder, worried her brother is going to show up again. I don’t know why I’m so on edge about it, it’s already late. If he was going to show up, he surely would have done it by now. Smith and Ace have both already begged off for the night, and I’m pretty sure Patrick will probably be heading out soon, too. The only reason I’m still here is because Pearl demanded I not come home for the night. She’s really doubling-down on her demands for me not to hover over her every chance I get.
So, I’m staying the night with Salma tonight. Another reason to not want Kareem to show up. Salma swears he had plans in NYC, but I remember how it went the last time he had plans.
As if my thoughts alone conjured him, the next time I look up from my spot perched on the armrest of the sofa, Kareem is crossing the room towards me. Patrick, who’s on the seat of the couch right next to me, has been resting his hand against my lower back, so he feels the moment I stiffen. Leaning forward to see what’s gotten my attention, he lets out a string of curse words that even make me blush.
“This asshole has to be fucking kidding me,” he spits out as he stands up and steps in front of me so that I’m partially blocked from view.
“I’m not here to fight,” I hear Kareem say. “My sister told me I needed to come apologize if I wanted to be allowed to sleep in my own bed tonight.” Patrick doesn’t move, and after a second Kareem huffs. “Fuck. Whatever. I’ll sleep in the damn car.”
I almost let the moment pass without saying anything, but then my conscience kicks in. “Wait.” I scramble up off the armrest and step around Patrick. “This is your house. You shouldn’t be sleeping in the car.” I regret my decision almost immediately when I see the calculated way Kareem smiles at me. He set me up. Salma probably doesn’t even know he’s here.
“I’m getting Jax. Nobody ever questions him. Let him be the one to fucking deck this guy,” Patrick grumbles under his breath, stepping away I’m sure to do just that.
“No, Patrick, wait,” I try to stop him, but it’s too late. He’s already halfway across the room before I even finish getting the words out. Yet again, this is going to end up turning into a much bigger deal than it needs to be. I scowl at Kareem. “Why can’t you just back off?”
“I’ll back off,” he says, but I can tell there’s more from the way he smirks. “After you spend the night with me.”
“I’m not doing that. Not ever.” What part of that does he not understand.
“We’ll see about that,” he says. Warning bells start going off in my head. “Some girls just need more… convincing than others.”
Kareem’s eyes go wide as he’s suddenly dragged backward by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” There’s rage on Jax’s face unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and even though it’s not directed at me, it scares me. It scares me for him. He gives Kareem a good shake, handling him as if he was an unruly toddler instead of a fully grown man. “If you so much as lay a hand on her,” Jax growls, the warning clear.
“Oh, I’m gonna use much more than just my hands,” Kareem says with a laugh right in Jax’s face. “She looks like the kind of girl that would beg to take it raw, don’t you think?” What a fucking asshole.
I see the hit coming even before Kareem does. Jax punches him right in the face, one solid blow that sends blood immediately spurting out of Kareem’s nose. It’s got to be broken. And after the bullshit Kareem just spewed, I can’t even find it in me to feel a little bit bad about it. Jax shakes his hand out, even from here I can see the split skin of his knuckles from how hard he decked him.
“That all you got?” Kareem taunts. “I’d have thought you’d be better with your hands. Maybe it’ll be easier to steal your girl than I thought.”
This time when Jax starts swinging he doesn’t stop. The party around us finally comes to a screeching halt as everyone realizes a full-blown fight is breaking out. Patrick appears by my side, putting himself between me and the fight as best he can as I try to shuffle around him. This has to stop. But when I try to step forward, Patrick yanks me back.
“You’re gonna get you
rself hurt,” he growls at me.
I blink back tears as the two guys fall to the floor, still grappling as they take whatever cheap shots they can at each other. Jax gets an uppercut to Kareem’s jaw, but Kareem manages to maneuver so that he returns a hard kick to Jax’s gut, knocking the wind out of him for a moment. My whole body shakes as I watch them coat the wood floors with blood.
They’re still going as Salma bursts into the room with fury in her eyes. Someone must have told her what was going on because she’s barely stepped foot into the room with us before she’s dousing them with a big bucket of water she brought with her.
“Both of you fucking stop it!” she shouts at them as they both make another grab for each other.
“Kareem! In ten seconds I’m calling the fucking police.” My heart stops, worried about what will happen to Jax, who technically started the fight. I’m surprised when the words draw Kareem to a sudden halt. He probably has a record, I realize. No one else would look that concerned about the prospect of the cops being called.
Now that the guys aren’t taking swings at each other, Salma drops the bucket and grabs her brother by the shirt. “Out. Right now.” She sounds scary even to me, and he follows without another word. He looks back once as she drags him out of the room, but I quickly look away. Fuck him for being so disgusting and creating even more issues than there were before.
It’s just Jax now, standing in the middle of the bloody floor, panting to try to catch his breath. He looks up, seeming to realize for the first time that everyone is staring. “What the fuck are you all looking at?”
Everyone quickly goes back to what they were doing before the fight broke out, fear of Jax’s anger clearly winning out over their curiosity about what just happened.
Jax starts to stomp away, bloody footprints marking his path. I dodge around Patrick, even as he tries to stop me, and catch up to Jax just before he reaches the front door. “Where are you going?” I reach for his shoulder, his muscles tensing under my touch as he pauses with his back still to me.
“I’m getting the fuck out of here. Don’t act like you give a shit.” I’m so taken back by his sharp words that my head snaps back. I don’t take my hand off his shoulder, I grip it tighter. Neither of us moves for a long moment. I’ve gotten so used to keeping Jax at a distance, but this time I know I’m the one that has to come to him. He stood up for me back there, despite the fact I would have much rather he fought with words than fists.
I take a deep breath and walk around so that I’m facing Jax from the front. “You can’t leave like this. Let me help you clean yourself up, at least.”
Even though Kareem took far more blows to the face, Jax still has a cut bleeding above his eye, forcing him to squint with one eye as he looks at me. There’s a little cut by his lip, too, but that one isn’t nearly as bad. I can’t imagine what he must look like under his shirt after Kareem got that kick in, though. Surely he’s bruised. Fuck, I hope he didn’t crack a rib.
Even though Jax hasn’t actually agreed, he stays silent as I take his hand to start leading him back the other way, towards the upstairs bathroom. I know there’s a first aid kit up there because I had to help Salma bandage her finger earlier after she accidentally cut herself while chopping up limes. Jax’s feet fall in heavy thuds as I pull him along with me, closing the bathroom door behind us before turning to rummage in the cabinet for the first aid kit.
I set the kit out on the counter of the bathroom sink, fumbling around until I find antiseptic wipes and bandages. It’ll have to do. I would ask him to let me take him to the hospital to cleaned up if I thought there was even the slightest chance he’d go, but even without asking I know there’s no way he’ll do it. He’s putting up with me fretting over him, but his demeanor is like this is no big deal. Hell, for him maybe it’s not. I can only imagine how many fights he’s gotten into over the years. I know of at least one other time for sure—when Patrick gave him that black eye last year after Jax exposed me in the middle of our history project.
“You shouldn’t have stepped in like that,” I tell him softly as drag an antiseptic wipe across his bloody eyebrow. He winces, grabbing me by the wrist to pull my hand away from his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sure it stings but we really need to clean this.”
He makes a grunting sound low in his throat that sounds like disagreement, but he lets go of my wrist and lets me continue. For a couple minutes, I work in silence. The only sound between us the occasional groan as antiseptic stings his cut. The cut by his mouth, on the other hand, is much easier to deal with. I went through about ten wipes on the cut above his eye, but this one takes just two. He huffs out a puff of breath just as I’m leaning closer to make sure I got it good enough. His breath skates over my skin, sending goosebumps up my arms.
This was all business two seconds ago, but now I catch myself leaning closer as I toss away the last of the wipes. Jax eyes me warily, but the second my eyes dip to glance at his mouth, his hands go to my waist. This time, there’s no question that I’m the one that closes the distance, my mouth finding his carefully as I worry in the back of my mind about hurting him.
Apparently, he doesn’t share the same concern. He dives in with everything he’s got, just the same as he always does. His lips parting as his tongue breaches my mouth, reminding me that when he kisses me, there’s no real room for thinking about anything else. My mind turns to pure mush as he devours me right there in the middle of the bathroom. For a moment, there’s pure magic between us.
Then, I try to shift even closer to him and he pulls away with a wince. It takes my hazy brain a second to remember he just got kicked right in the abdomen where I’m leaning into him. I jump back, my hip bumping the countertop painfully as I put as much space between us as I can.
God, the two of us really can’t be left alone in any kind of enclosed space together. I study Jax’s face as he stares back at me.
It’s really unfair how goddamn sexy he is. He’s been keeping the stubble along his jaw, which I love despite the slight rash I can already feel around my mouth. Fucking worth it. I’m really thinking about jumping at him again when his body goes defensive out of nowhere. His shoulders stiffen as his back goes ramrod straight. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and heads for the door as I stand there gaping at him.
It’s only when he’s opening the door that I manage to find words to throw at his back. “Stop fucking walking away from me before I’m finished.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jax was halfway out the door, but my words stop him. He slowly backs himself back into the bathroom, calmly closing the door again. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, anxiety creeping in as I have no idea what’s about to come. I’m not even remotely ready for him.
He storms back to me, my legs quivering when I see the heat in his eyes. I barely manage to keep up with what’s happening as he grips my thighs to lift me up onto the bathroom counter, his hands pushing my shoulders until my back is leaning against the mirror on the wall. I can feel the cool glass through my thin shirt. He stands between my thighs, pushing them as far apart as they can comfortably go in my tight jeans, as he leans over me to reach my mouth. His hands run over every inch of me as he kisses me with a desperation that wasn’t there before.
His lips slide over across my jaw and down my neck, stopping to suck the sensitive skin of my shoulder where my shirt doesn’t cover. A low moan escapes me as I let my head fall back, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as he runs his hands over the inside seam of my jeans. I nearly buck myself right off the counter in surprise when one of his hands goes all the way up.
I tilt my head back down to look at him as his mouth leaves my shoulder, just in time to watch him working open the button on my jeans. I blink. It takes a second before it kicks in that this is a very, very bad idea.
“Woah. Wait.” I reach a hand out to stop him.
It’s like flipping a switch again. He releases me, jerking away and pacing across the bathroom to f
ace the tiled shower wall. He laces his hands behind his neck as he bounces agitatedly on the balls of his feet.
“Why the fuck do you melt for everyone but me?” He turns to face me with fiery eyes, staying in his same spot. It’s a big bathroom and he’s put several feet between us. I open my mouth to protest—I don’t melt for everyone—but he’s not done. “I made shit happen for you when those guys were only chasing you around like desperate puppies. What the fuck did they do for you that I didn’t? Ace, Smith, Patrick, tell me which one of them wasn’t a dick to you when it suited them? And then what? They whisper sweet nothings in your ear and suddenly you forgot all about it?”
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Isn’t it?” I can’t rise to meet the challenge in his eyes. Because, yeah, he’s sort of right. “If I hadn’t treated you like shit when you first got here, it would have been you that turned up dead instead of Kathryn. Hate me all you want, but the target I put on your fucking back was the only thing that kept you safe.”
I hate myself for it a little bit, but I look away. There’s too much emotion in his eyes, the kind of thing I’ve only ever seen in passing on Jax’s face. Now, though, he’s gutted by it. Anguish in his voice as finally I get the answers I haven’t dared ask for.
I don’t even have to question if it’s true. The way he spits the words at me like he never planned to say them—no one can fake that. And he’s absolutely right.
Everyone was hesitant with me because Jax deemed me unacceptable. If he hadn’t, and the path had been paved for Kathryn to try to sink her claws into me, and by some weird twist of events I had actually let myself be dragged into her inner circle… It would no doubt have been me Cece focused her rage on for taking her place, instead of at Kathryn for wanting to replace her in the first place.
