Hurt Like HELL (new adult contemporary romance)

by Casey, London

  Jack took care of Annie, tipping her and smiling. Annie was flushed, thinking a young man had interest in her. That was just the kind of power Jack seemed to have.

  Powerful. Sexy.

  When he came back to the table, I expected him to take my hand and lead me away.

  He didn’t.

  “Can you get back home?”

  “You can’t take me?”

  Jack shook his head. “I have something to take care of, Tessa. Now.”

  Jack looked fidgety. Maybe nervous, but not the kind of nervous I would normally feel. He looked nervous and excited, he really had to get somewhere. I didn’t understand where the sudden change came from.

  Was it because I talked about Brett? I meant nothing by it. Maybe Jack had heard conversations I had about Brett. But even then, none of the conversations were bad. I never spoke sexually about Brett.

  After what Brett did…

  “Be safe,” Jack said.

  He sounded cold, uncaring.

  Hurt.

  He walked from the table without even touching me. I didn’t answer his question about a ride home and I wouldn’t have the chance.

  I glanced to the counter and saw Gabrielle staring at me, now with a smile on her face.

  She must have seen Jack leave without kissing me.

  What a bitch.

  7

  “You’re a whore!”

  I laughed until I saw the seriousness in Bridget’s face.

  She had been my only option to call and I knew she’d come get me. She couldn’t resist Thorns’ coffee, so when she saw me standing on the curb holding a large coffee - extra sugar, little cream - she almost opened the passenger door for me.

  “I’m not a whore,” I said. I paused and then asked, “Wait, why would you say that?”

  “Don’t think I don’t know… why were you at Thorns?”

  Shit.

  Why was I at Thorns?

  Could I tell Bridget about Jack? I mean, sure, I could tell her… but what would I tell her? My mind hadn’t traveled that far forward. I was still trying to grasp the reality of my life right then.

  I had no story for Jack.

  I would need something concrete because Bridget knew everyone in town.

  I could tell her I met him online. But she would then spout statistics of meeting people online and how dangerous it was.

  I could tell her I met him…

  “On a date? Holding hands.”

  “What?”

  “I heard he might be hot.”

  “What are you talking about, Bridget?”

  “Don’t play with me,” she said, “I’m annoyed you didn’t tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Mr. Tall, wide shoulders, sexy messy hair.”

  Shit.

  “Who…”

  “Heard he couldn’t stop staring at you too.”

  Who the hell was at Thorns that would call Bridget?

  “I’m not saying a thing until you tell me how you know anything.”

  “Are you serious, Tessa?”

  Yeah, I knew that was stupid to say. She probably had ten people text her about it.

  Breaking news… Tessa was with a guy. Tessa might lose her virginity. Tessa might…

  “Gabrielle texted me,” Bridget said.

  “Oh. Her.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  “Yeah, I know that. But after that part, she’s not all that bad.”

  I looked at Bridget and squinted my eyes. “Every time you talk about her like that, I love you less.”

  “No you don’t. You’re jealous.”

  “Never. Not over that woman.”

  “Anyway… back to Mr. Hottie.”

  “I’m not talking about it,” I said. “Honestly.”

  “Bullshit,” Bridget screamed.

  It was a rarity to hear her curse. It made me smile, but I was a little uncomfortable.

  “Bridget, please.”

  “No. No please. You tell me about your father. Then you get into a car accident. Now you’re out dating some hot guy. Who are you?”

  “It’s hard to explain, okay?”

  “Try me.”

  I sighed. I closed my eyes and started talking. “My father is out of prison.”

  That was easy to say. Almost too easy. Because of Jack. He made it okay to face the past, the present, and consider the future.

  “Oh no…”

  “It’s not that bad,” I said. “He can’t come near me. Not that he would. Just the idea of it though is…”

  “Scary.”

  “Yes. Scary.”

  I paused, thinking of how to work Jack into the story.

  I couldn’t explain the love, the emotion, the everything. Let alone the fact that he had been murdered by my father ten years ago.

  “I met a friend for breakfast,” I said.

  “A friend?”

  I opened my eyes. “A friend. I read about my father in the paper and that’s how I ended up in the accident.”

  “I understand that part now,” Bridget said.

  “I like to take drives when I’m nervous or scared. Something about it makes me feel like I can just leave it all behind. But anyway, when an old friend heard of everything, he called me. We went out for breakfast. And he left.”

  “Yeah? And you and Mr. Hottie holding hands…?”

  “We’re old friends,” I said. “He touched my hand, I touched his, whatever. More consoling, okay? He knew me back then, when it happened. I got out of touch with a lot of people after it happened… and I moved, changed my last name, the whole routine. He was someone from my past, from before it all. Someone who knew me, the real Tessa…”

  “The real Tessa?”

  “No, I don’t know. Okay? Just leave it at that. An old friend.”

  Bridget heeded my words, thankfully, instead of pushing at me. If she did, I would have cracked. I honestly was still fragile, my mind sputtering because of Jack. It made no sense why he stormed from the café. Without warning. Without care. I felt alone and while I enjoyed being alone, this kind of alone wasn’t so nice. I couldn’t help but imagine all the bad that could happen with Jack gone. Knowing he had been watching me and helping me made me wonder just how far back his help went.

  Better yet, how long would he be gone now?

  Would I ever see him again?

  “I don’t like the old friend thing, just so you know.”

  Thank you Bridget, for breaking up my thoughts.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ll see him again to be honest. He lives far away and came just to make sure I’m okay.”

  “He could have called,” Bridget said.

  “But he didn’t.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Quick, short, unbelievable.

  Bridget pulled up to my apartment building. I opened the door and thanked her for the ride.

  “I’d come up but Timmy and I are going out for a talk.”

  “A talk?”

  “I want to talk to him about ditching me the other night.”

  “Ugh. You two are so complicated.”

  “Yeah. And old friends aren’t?”

  “Don’t talk to Gabrielle anymore,” I said. “She really is a bitch.”

  “You’re jealous.” Bridget stuck out her tongue.

  “No. Just trying to protect you.”

  I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to say goodbye to Bridget. I almost wanted her to come with me, up to my apartment. Make her walk close, just in case. Make her turn the lights on in the entire apartment, just in case. Make her check for monsters under my bed. Gosh, how stupid.

  “Hey Tessa, are you okay?”

  This time a sense of honesty came over me. I stared Bridget in her eyes and said the truest thing that came to me.

  “Is anybody really okay?”

  8

  The rest of the day just plain sucked. There reall
y was no better word for it. It sucked. Bad. I had nobody to talk to without sounding desperate, and alone. I had so much to say but couldn’t share it with anyone. The only person I wanted to be with wasn’t there. I had no way of getting in contact with Jack either. I had to sit and wait. In a world where news traveled through social networks and people could be in contact with the click of a button or found through an app on a phone, I sat on the couch in my small apartment, waiting for Jack.

  The waiting led into the afternoon. Once I had run out of room to pace, I debated on a walk. Or a run. Thinking about it made me tired. I considered going back to Thorns, just to be in an energetic place. I needed to talk to Jerry about a work schedule. The idea seemed perfect, until Jerry called me. The conversation lasted all of five minutes, the point being I was on the schedule tomorrow night.

  I’d take it.

  Back to work, yes.

  Back to normal, maybe.

  When I hung up with Jerry, I felt bad for hanging up with Jerry.

  That was the line for me.

  Missing my boss?

  Ew.

  I made a beeline for my bedroom.

  I’d sleep.

  There was nothing else to do and my body still had a tense soreness to it so the sleep couldn’t do any harm. Worse case, I could sleep the rest of the day and night away. Tomorrow would hopefully bring a casual day and a busy night at work.

  What kind of person had I become… wanting to go to work?

  But it sure beat dealing with the events around me.

  My eyes closed the moment I hit the pillow and not a single thought or dream bothered me during my sleep.

  Until my bed moved.

  A subtle shake at first, and I rolled to my back, reaching for the covers to pull them over my head and continue to sleep.

  “Tessa…?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “We need to talk, Tessa.”

  The voice. His voice. The voice I had been waiting to hear again.

  My eyes opened and I sat up. I couldn’t see in the darkness so I reached for the small lamp next to my bed. The small flood of light moved across my bed, revealing Jack sitting at my feet.

  He had changed, now wearing a different pair of jeans and a black long sleeve shirt. He looked cleaned up and smelled amazing, but his stare was something else.

  It was deep, dark, and commanding.

  Jack had plenty of secrets, and each one left me feeling further away from him.

  “Jack… you’re here. Again.” I looked around my room. “What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight. Sorry for waking you.”

  “Midnight? I’ve been asleep that long?”

  “I guess. I just got here a few minutes ago.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Not now,” he said.

  My mouth snapped shut.

  He looked forward and rested his chin on his fists. And just like that, Jack began to open up a little, for me.

  “I have a lot to tell you,” he said. “Things will come as I care to share. Understand that right now. This isn’t for pleasure, and not for memories. But tonight I’ll break that rule. Tonight is about memories, Tessa. Okay?”

  “Okay. Yes.”

  “Good. You asked me about protecting you… how many times. Where else in your life… when…”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” I said. “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier. I swear, Jack.”

  “I didn’t leave because of you,” he said. “I had… other reasons.”

  “You keep giving me a line about other reasons. If you have a girlfriend or something… I’m okay with it. Just not with us, touching.”

  “A girlfriend?” Jack asked. He scoffed and shook his head. “That would be the least of our problems.”

  The least?

  “Then tell me whatever you want,” I said.

  I sat up in bed, groggy and still tired. I knew my sleeping schedule was going to be messed up for a while, especially if Jack liked to come around midnight and keep me up all night. Just like when we were teenagers. I only wished that now things would be a little different. The first step had been completed - Jack was in my bed.

  Jack reached down for his shirt. As his fingers clamped around the bottom and he lifted, my eyes opened wide. My body felt suddenly awake, ready.

  Yes, I thought. Oh, yes, take it off. We can do that first, then talk later.

  My body still hadn’t come down from its little sampling of Jack in the living room on the floor. And that was just from a little kissing and his body grazing mine. Imagine what would happen when we finally…

  Jack pulled his shirt up a little, lifting his right arm in the air, his left hand holding his shirt. I first took notice of the muscles of his stomach. The way he had to turn, it gave them a flexed appeal that had my tongue wondering what they tasted like.

  My gosh, I needed to calm myself. Once and for all. Yikes.

  When I blinked a few times and realized that Jack wasn’t just stripping himself down for my liking, my eyes took focus at what he wanted me to see.

  The marks on his side.

  Red dots with blotchy outer circles, with a pinkish hue that bled into his natural skin tone.

  They were scars.

  They were familiar too.

  “You know what these are, right?”

  I did. I nodded. I hated seeing them.

  They were the scars from his mother. They were still thick and bubbly, gruseom, horrible looking scabs.

  Painful.

  “I remember it,” I said.

  “Scars,” Jack said.

  “I have scars too,” I said. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Yeah? Show me.”

  My fingers tightened around my covers.

  Show him… my scars?

  What scars?

  My scars were on the inside, punctures to my heart and soul.

  “Show me,” Jack said again. “Right now.”

  Oh, Mr. Commanding.

  I loved when he sounded like that.

  I lifted my covers up but didn’t take them off. I had to check to see how decent I was. Not that it mattered because frankly, I wanted to be naked in front of Jack. But I wanted to remain somewhat decent, at least for the moment.

  “What are you doing?” Jack asked.

  I picked my head up from the covers. “Making sure I’m not fully naked.”

  “Who cares?”

  He smiled and before I could get a better grip on the covers, Jack tore them from me.

  I hurried and brought my knees up, thinking it would shield me as I wore a skimpy tank… with a bra, so no big deal. What I didn’t realize at first was that I had on a pair of super short shorts. By bending my knees and putting my legs to my chest, the shorts came up way too far, making it obvious to Jack that either I was wearing panties or I was wearing a thong.

  Shit.

  I slowly put my legs back down.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Jack’s eyes scanned my legs.

  Yeah, that’s right. Enjoy.

  I turned to my side a little and twisted my right leg. I was well aware that Jack could see up my super short shorts.

  Good for him.

  “Right here,” I said and pointed behind my knee.

  “What?”

  “Right here. Look.”

  “I don’t see anything, Tessa.”

  “Look harder.”

  Jack leaned down. He squinted. “I see the back of your leg.”

  “Look closer.”

  He came down more, close enough that I felt his breath on my leg.

  I shivered, breaking out in goosebumps. There were other reactions by my body, ones that I did not dare say or try to think about with Jack so close to me.

  “I have a scar here,” I said. “I cut my leg on a razor a couple years ago. It bled for like ever. I had my best friend, Bridget, take me to the hospital.”

  “And…?”

  “They laughed at me
.”

  Jack laughed too.

  It would have pissed me off but it felt so good to feel his breath climbing up and down my leg.

  “Well, look at that scar then,” he said. “You poor little girl.”

  Jack puckered his sexy lips and touched the back of my leg. With just a single kiss, he destroyed me. I closed my eyes, wishing he would kiss me again. His little moves meant so much more than any other who guy who dared to touch me or kiss me. I flexed my leg, hoping he would take the hint.

  By the time I opened my eyes, he was sitting back up in his original position. But by the way he looked at me, he knew exactly what he had done. The connection was intense, so much so that I remained turned on my side, my leg flexed, starting to shake.

  “My scars are a little different,” Jack said.

  He found the covers he had taken from me and covered my legs up.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “I’m going to show you something,” Jack said. “You have to promise me you won’t freak out. Too much.”

  Too much?

  “Okay. I promise.”

  Jack stood up and in a hurry, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it up and off his body. I gasped for air and whimpered a pathetic moan, my eyes and body wanted to explode at the same time.

  He was unbelievable.

  Where ever he had been the past ten years, he had taken care of himself. He was ripped. His toned body called to me with a wicked heat that made me thankful he had covered my lower half before taking his shirt off.

  To say I was ready would be an understatement. Need poured from my body.

  “Jack…”

  He put his hand out to me, shutting me up. He then turned, showing me his back.

  A strong back, but a back full of scars… and wounds.

  One of them fresh.

  9

  “Jack, what are they?”

  I threw the covers off my body and stood up, short shorts and slutty tank top.

  Oh well, now wasn’t the time to worry about fashion.

  Jack remained silent and still, his hands at his sides.

  The marks on his back were painfully amazing. Some were long, some short. Some looked thick and others like a really big paper cut. A few were deep and looked as though the wounds were still open.

  I reached out and hesitated for a few seconds.