HATE ME AGAIN: a bad boy romance novel

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HATE ME AGAIN: a bad boy romance novel Page 22

by Jaxson Kidman


  “You paid her off?”

  “I sold the land back to Hunter for a really cheap price. I made that my only worthwhile asset. And I offered her half of it. Straight up. No courts. No lawyers. No messes. I’d cut her a check for half of the balance in my account and she would sign the papers and go away.”

  “No…”

  “Yes.”

  “You could have proven she’s fucking crazy, Mason. You could have proven that the marriage was a joke. You were both drunk. You were in Vegas on a one-night trip. You…”

  I smiled. I stepped toward Violet and took her by the waist. “That’s my point, babe. I don’t care about anything without you. I don’t need to go through weeks and months of arguing with Stacey. That would have been time wasted. We’ve wasted enough time already together. I can’t do it anymore. So, I offered her the money and she took it. The rest of the money I gave back to Hunter and he gave me the land back. Yeah, I took a hit, but she’s gone now.”

  “You did that for us?”

  “I did it for you,” Mason said. “To show you how I feel. It’s been a fucked-up mess, Violet. My whole life has been a fucked-up mess. Okay? The only woman I ever loved never loved me back the way I wanted. And I’d never blame Kate for that. Things were just too weird, and then I lost her. I never got to figure out the closure in that. Then you moved in next door. This beautiful, innocent woman, dripping with desire that she didn’t know she had. You found a way to crack the steel shell around my heart. So I want it to be us, Violet. Just you and me. No outside noise.”

  She touched my face. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, Mason. But we can’t forget the past. You can’t let Kate go. You can still write to her. You can keep the letters. I’ll never read them. She’s an important part of your life and always will be.”

  “I’m more focused on the present.”

  “And the future…?”

  “You’re my future, babe. That’s all I care about. I can’t believe these fucking words are dripping from my mouth.”

  Violet touched my lip. “I can’t believe it, either.”

  “But it’s all done now, Violet. I’m divorced. I’m sort of broke. But I’m happy with you. Fuck… how about that? I’m happy.”

  “Does that mean you’ll never make me hate you again?” Violet asked.

  I lifted her up and turned her around. I sat her right on all the papers.

  “Babe, you’re going to hate me every day. I promise you that. Some guys bring flowers and bullshit. Some guys want to make everything special, right? Not me. I’m going to find a way every single day to make you hate me. And you’re going to hate me with a smile on your face and your panties soaking wet. Got that?”

  “Got it,” Violet said.

  “And now…” I pressed my lips to her neck. “I’m going to fuck your brains out on these divorce papers…”

  I nibbled at Violet’s neck.

  Then Violet surprised me by saying, “Good… I want them to be a sticky mess of us.”

  I grabbed her panties off the floor and hooked them on my finger. She was on the table, legs slightly parted, her hand grabbing the sides, panting. Her sweet cunt was still dripping with honey, and some of my cum. The sight was fucking amazing.

  “These I’m going to keep,” I whispered.

  I stuffed her panties into my pocket and helped her get dressed.

  I lifted her off the table and peeled away a piece of paper that was stuck to her ass. We both burst into laughter as her pants were still at her knees. She threw her arms around me and we just stood there, looking at each other.

  The moment was pretty fucking intense.

  There was nothing in our way now.

  It was up to us to make everything make sense.

  Which was fine by me.

  I gathered up the paperwork and caught my own breath as I stared at it. Everything was complete and moving forward. I was going to regain ownership of RN Custom Rides. I was going to have a new building. And I was going to have my best friend right next door running his own business.

  Violet touched my back. “You okay?”

  And I was going to have my woman right there with me.

  “I’m fucking great,” I whispered.

  I left the folders and walked to the door.

  I opened it and Hunter stood there, a pissed-off look on his face.

  “My office?” he asked.

  “It was my office first,” I said.

  He looked at Violet. I put an arm around her and pulled her close.

  “I figured you two would fight.”

  “That’s how we fight,” Violet said.

  “Jesus,” Hunter said. “You really corrupted her.”

  “To the core,” I said. “Thank you, Hunter. For keeping things straight for me while I figured my shit out.”

  “That’s what brothers are for,” he said. “Now you’re truly a free man, Mason. Nothing is in your way but yourself. That’s pretty fucking terrifying.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “Yes, it is.”

  We left the office and the shop.

  I was going to take Violet to the empty lot and show her where the new shop was going to be built. But then she looked at me with those pretty, wild eyes of hers and I decided on something different.

  I wanted her home.

  I wanted her in bed.

  I wanted her forever.

  30

  Fresh Ink

  (Violet)

  The last place I thought I’d end up was in a tattoo chair. The guy staring at me was named Rocko. Mason stood in the corner with his arms crossed, grinning.

  I agreed to get a tattoo after I studied, touched, and kissed every tattoo on Mason’s rock-hard body. So I decided on something simple yet effective. A little butterfly on my hip. A place where nobody would know I had a tattoo except Mason. It seemed fitting to have a butterfly tattooed on me considering how wildly changing my life had been lately. Everything that happened with Mason, and then add to that my career and business. It was all just so much to take in at once.

  “You ready?” Rocko asked.

  He was thick, covered in more tattoos than Mason, and wore big black glasses.

  “Sure,” I whispered.

  Mason moved from the corner and came to the other side of me. He crouched down and grabbed my hand.

  “Look at me, babe,” Mason said. “It’s going to sting and burn. But breathe through it. Stare at me. Think of everything going on in your life right now.”

  I heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun.

  My body tensed.

  I shut my eyes and braced for the initial sting.

  It came and I winced. I let out a long breath and opened my eyes. I blinked fast and a tear escaped my eye.

  Mason quickly wiped it away and winked at me.

  “Everything,” he whispered. “That’s what this is for. Let that memory and that story match the tattoo and then you’ll have it forever. No matter what.”

  “Mason…”

  The needle kept whirring and my skin kept burning.

  “What?” he said.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Violet,” he said. “Now enjoy your fresh ink. Your old man is going to kill me for letting you get a tattoo, isn’t he?”

  “Probably not,” I said. “For some reason he really likes you. It’s kind of weird.”

  “Who wouldn’t like me?” Mason asked.

  Rocko let out a snicker, reminding me that someone else was in the room with us.

  I held Mason’s hand. I shut my eyes. And I let it just sink into me. My life. Reality. The ink. Everything.

  It hurt. But it was supposed to hurt. I sort of understood why Mason got all the tattoos he did. Yeah, he wanted to see someone different in the mirror, but it was really about the stories. The pain. Remembering what it was like to feel pain, to feel anything. I was just getting a little butterfly tattoo on my hip but I could totally see the attraction to more tattoos. Once
again, Mason had found a side of me I didn’t know existed.

  And I needed it.

  That moment. In the chair. The needle, the ink, the pain.

  Because when we were done at the tattoo shop, we were going to my parents’ house for dinner.

  They had news to share…about Dad.

  “Does it hurt?” Mason whispered into my ear as I stood at the sink. His hands ran up my hips, gently over the new tattoo. He made me shiver and he turned me on.

  “Hurts a little,” I said. “But I’ll survive.”

  Mason moved away from me and leaned against the kitchen island.

  “Why don’t we eat and chat?” Mom asked.

  We turned and Mason jumped to take the food from Mom. Actually, Mason had done almost everything but cook the food. There was nothing like watching my tattooed hunk set the table and bring food to the table.

  Dad was already at the table, looking really tired and really weak. He was sporting a red bandana to hide what was left of his hair. The treatments were just like the doctors said they’d be: strong. And that meant a lot of beating up on the man who was my first hero in life.

  We all sat down and ate.

  Chicken parm. Dad’s favorite and Mom’s specialty.

  I barely took two bites before I put my fork down. “You said you had news. I can’t eat with my stomach in a knot.”

  “Violet,” Dad said.

  “Tell me it’s about you.”

  “It’s about us,” Mom said. “We’re going to sell the house.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The upkeep is too much,” Dad said. “And the money…”

  “No,” I said again.

  “Violet,” Mom said. “It’s okay. We can get something smaller. Better for us.”

  I stood up. I left the room as everyone called for me. I grabbed my bag and came back to the table.

  “I refuse it,” I said. “This is the house. My house. I’m not letting it go. I refuse.”

  “Violet…”

  I looked at Dad. I saw the hurt and worry in his eyes.

  “I’ll buy it,” I said. “Name your price. I’ll buy it and give it to you.”

  Dad blinked fast.

  He reached for Mom’s hand.

  “You have an amazing family here,” Mason said. “Honestly. This woman is the most special person I’ve ever met.”

  “Just like her mother,” Dad said.

  “I’m being serious, too,” I said. “I have the money. I want you both to be comfortable. I want Dad to get better. I want Mom to smile.”

  “Well, I expected you to get upset,” Mom said. “But I didn’t expect this.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Dad said. “I guess we’ll stay put, huh, Barb?”

  “I don’t…the money…”

  “Mom, I promise you. I can show you my bank statements if you’d like.”

  Mom smiled. “No. I trust you.”

  Dad looked at Mason. “Well, sorry you got pulled into that for a minute.”

  “I don’t mind,” Mason said. “I never had this. I always wanted it.”

  “And you’re always welcome here,” Dad said. “That’s the truth.”

  “Speaking of truth,” I said. “Dad, can you take that thing off your head?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

  “You look like a fool, Hank,” Mom said.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Hey, I used to ride with a tough crowd,” Dad said. “I had a motorcycle.”

  “It was your cousin’s,” Mom said. “And you couldn’t ride it.”

  “I was tough,” Dad said.

  “You should just shave it,” Mason said. “Go really tough.”

  “Yeah? I’ll do that when you do yours,” Dad challenged.

  “Get the buzzer,” Mason said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m over it,” Mason said. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Right, Hank?”

  Dad smiled. “Right.”

  “Is this really happening?” I asked.

  “After we eat this delicious food,” Mason said.

  I looked at Mason.

  I mouthed to him Are you fucking serious?

  He just winked.

  One thing I knew for sure with him…he would never fail to surprise me.

  31

  Any More Surprises?

  (Mason)

  Construction was officially underway. The new building was going up. We were swamped with orders and there was buzz about me getting back into the game. For whatever it was worth, people actually gave a shit what I did with my life. To me, that was strange. But it worked.

  I got on my motorcycle and looked at what used to be an empty lot. Now there was an entire construction crew there, with machines, supplies, and lots of noise.

  I ran my hand over my super-short hair and grinned. The look on everyone’s face that night at Violet’s parents was priceless. I knew Hank was feeling like shit and he hated losing his hair. So why not just chop mine off, too? It was just hair. It meant nothing to me but a clean bill of health. Hank didn’t need to wander around with some damn bandana strapped to his head, trying to cover himself up. Fuck that. I grabbed scissors and made the first cut as everyone gasped. Then I let Violet, her mother, and even Hank himself cut and shave my head. And I swore that night when we left, Hank looked happier and healthier than when we arrived.

  Who would have thought: I, Mason, doing things for the benefit of others. What a fucked-up world.

  I fired up the motorcycle and took off.

  I had just got finished with a major project and needed to clear my head. A guy came to us with a motorcycle that he wanted dedicated to his wife, who had passed away from breast cancer. The crazy part? He’d survived prostate cancer just a year before his wife passed away. How fucked-up was that?

  It was a hard one to work on.

  The entire motorcycle was designed to honor his wife. And every time I touched the ride I thought about Kate. I thought about all the crazy stuff we were forced to go through and if any of that stuff contributed to her death. The houses we lived in. Was there mold? Mouse shit? Cat shit? Sleeping on hard floors. Sleeping with dirty sheets and pillows. Fuck, so many nights just sleeping outside. Not to mention the crappy food we ate all the time. But we had no choice. It was the only way to survive.

  It angered me to think that something like that could have brought cancer upon Kate. Honestly, I didn’t know if that was the truth, and I never would. Sometimes, I put myself in a really shitty spot wondering what would have happened if Kate had survived. Would we have ended up together for good? What about Violet?

  But I’m glad I got to work on that project. I was also glad it was done. Cutting into scars just makes new wounds.

  I took a little ride for an hour before heading back to the apartment.

  There was something comforting in going home and finding Violet there. All her shit was moved in once and for all now. No more surprises from me. No wives showing up at the door to ruin everything.

  As I pulled into my parking spot, I saw Violet’s car. Next to that was a yellow moving truck. I grinned. Looked like they’d finally rented out Violet’s old apartment.

  When I got inside the apartment, I saw Violet sitting at her laptop, busy working. I had to hand it to her. She really worked her ass off. She paid off her parents’ house to make sure they didn’t have to move or worry about money. She and her friend Victoria were cranking out hours on some new addition to their original app. I didn’t know how it worked but I loved watching her talk about it. The way her face lit up. The way her hands flew around as she spoke. It was everything to me.

  “We’re getting new neighbors,” I said.

  “I saw the truck, too,” Violet said.

  “How much longer are you working?”

  “Why?”

  I stood behind her. “I was hoping you’d join me in the shower.”

  “I haven’t showered today,” she said. “So
, that’s not a bad offer.”

  “Well, it wasn’t an offer, babe. More of a command. Shut the damn laptop and get in the fucking shower with me.”

  “So demanding,” Violet said.

  “I’m good at that.”

  “And surprising me,” she said.

  “I already warned you…”

  “Are there any more surprises, Mason?”

  “Plenty. But that’s part of my charm.”

  “You’re not the only one who can deal out the surprises.”

  “What’s that mean?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just putting that out there.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “What? No.”

  “Okay.”

  “Wait. Would that be bad?”

  “As long as it was mine,” I said.

  “Mason…”

  “Violet,” I said. I touched her face. “See? I can surprise you.”

  I winked. She broke away from me. “I hate you.”

  “I’m going to take a shower. You better join me.”

  I turned and walked to the bathroom door.

  Violet? Me? Kids?

  I tried to picture her pregnant and it wasn’t the worst image ever. But we had lots of time together for all of that. As a guy that chased down the days waiting to die, I just wanted to keep time alive and real.

  That’s what…

  I opened the bathroom door and let out a scream.

  A fucking puppy barked and jumped at me.

  I stared down at a yellow-haired puppy as it jumped at me, biting at the knees of my jeans. It had already pissed on the floor. I looked back at Violet, curling my lip.

  “Surprise!” she called out. “I can’t believe she kept quiet that long.”

  “Surprise? She? A fucking dog?”

  “What? You don’t love her?”

  I looked down. The puppy was now sitting. Her little tail was sweeping quickly back and forth on the floor.

 

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