Unrefined (Monroe Series Book 3)

by Nicole Dykes

  That sick son of a bitch fucking hit her!

  She drops her arms from around my waist and backs away from me a little bit, “It’s okay.”

  “The hell it is. He hit you?” She bites her lip, probably debating on whether she should tell me, “Don’t lie to me.”

  “We got into another argument after dinner.”

  My jaw tightens and my fists that are now dropped at my sides are clenched so tight my knuckles turn white, “I’m going to kill him. He’s fucking dead.”

  I start toward my front door and she grabs my hand, “Please, Jackson, no. Don’t go.”

  I turn around, trying to keep my rage in check, “Why the fuck not? He hurt you.”

  She nods and pulls me toward my couch. She sits down and she yanks me down to sit with her, which I do, “He did, but I left. It’s over. I asked him for a separation. Please stay here with me.”

  “You left him?”

  She nods her head, “Yes. Well, for the time being anyway. I just need to reevaluate some things in my life and need time to think.”

  “So you may go back? After he hit you?”

  She wipes a tear away from her eye, “I don’t know. I don’t really know anything right now. My life is a mess.”

  Fuck. I won’t tell her what to do. “Alright. Well, if you won’t let me beat the living shit out of him, will you at least call and report it to the police?”

  She looks horrified, “No, I can’t do that either. It’s over.”

  “Fuck, Charlotte, have you seen your face?”

  She nods, “It looks worse than it is. It was really just a slap.”

  I want to make this part clear so I lock my eyes with hers, “Charlotte, no man has a right to put his hands on any woman in anger. Ever.”

  She buries her face in her hands, “I know, I’ve never seen him like that, he usually doesn’t care enough to fight, but now I’m tarnishing his image.”

  “Fuck his image. Is that why you won’t call the police? You don’t have to protect him.”

  She drops her hands from her face and leans back against the couch, “No, I don’t care about his image anymore. I just don’t think it would do any good. It would be humiliating, and he has a lot of friends that could bury it quickly and discreetly. And then he may go after you.”

  I slouch back on the couch, our faces close together, looking back into those big, beautiful eyes, “Me?”

  “Yes, he accused me of having an affair with you tonight. It’s where it all started. Honestly, I may have goaded him about it. That’s what really set him off.”

  Fuck I didn’t see that one coming. “You didn’t deny it?”

  She looks so defeated, “I did at first, but it was like he already made up his mind about it and decided that we were. I shouldn’t be here now, because that’s where he said I would go.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about what he thinks.”

  She turns her head so that she’s not looking at me anymore. Instead she stares straight in front of her, “I do. He has the power to destroy your business. He knows everyone here. He has way too many friends. I can’t be the reason your business fails.”

  I use my hand to gently turn her face back toward mine, “Charlotte, he does not scare me in the slightest. He may be able to make a small dent, but our reputation is solid.”

  She shakes her head, “No, you don’t know him like I do. He has a vengeful side.”

  “So do I.”

  Her hand brushes my cheek and rests there, “Please stay away from him. It will be fine.”

  I would give anything to pay the senator a visit, but I know that’s not what she needs right now.

  That would only make me feel better. “Alright. You are welcome to stay here tonight. I have a guest room that’s never been used.”

  She smiles, “Thank you. I think I will take you up on that offer.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t going to let you leave.”

  That gets a small laugh and she sits up on the couch, shrugging out of her coat.

  My eyes instantly go to her bare arm where a large bruise has formed. I sit up and move my hand to touch it and she flinches, “Is that from this afternoon?” I swear it didn’t look like he had a firm grip on her when I intervened at the shop.

  Her gaze drops to the bruise, “Oh no, that’s from tonight. He really didn’t take it well when I told him I was leaving.”

  Again, I have to try like hell to keep my body on the couch. In my mind, I’m already at their house making Senator Nicholas Warner cry for his mother.

  She puts her hand on my shoulder, “I’m okay. I’m just so sorry that I dragged you into this.”

  We are sitting so close that our thighs are touching. Her beautiful, broken face is less than an inch from mine, and my voice comes out in a harsh whisper, “I’m not.”

  And that’s it.

  I don’t know who actually leans in the rest of the way and I don’t fucking care. Her lips crash into mine, begging me to free her from her pain.

  And for a brief second, I oblige.

  I open her mouth with my tongue, massaging hers with my own, exploring her wanting mouth. Her arms wrap around the back of my neck pulling our bodies even closer together.

  I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone like this, and it feels so damn good. But I know that I have to stop.

  I can’t fucking do this.

  She just left her husband after he hit her.

  I can’t be her rebound.

  I slowly pull away, nipping gently at her full, swollen, bottom lip before looking into those green eyes, shining with disappointment and confusion. I already miss kissing her, “I’m going to go make sure the guest room is ready. I’m sure that you’re tired.”

  She doesn’t say anything, just sits there looking slightly rejected.

  She has to know that there is nothing I want more than to stay in that moment with her. But I can’t be the reason she finally decides to leave that fucking prick. She has to do that on her own.

  I stand up and walk up the stairs to the guest bedroom. It’s clean, the maid goes in every two weeks and changes the sheets, dusts and vacuums even though no one has ever stayed there.

  I go into my room and pick out an old concert t-shirt from high school. It’s a little worn, but hopefully it will work for tonight.

  I walk back downstairs, “You wanna follow me?”

  Charlotte stands and quietly follows me up the stairs to the guest room, “This is really nice, Jackson. Thank you. And don’t worry, I will check into a hotel first thing tomorrow.”

  I take her hands in mine, “Charlotte, you can stay here as long as you want to. I’m glad that you came to me in the first place. You are safe with me and I will never do anything to hurt you.”

  She smiles and kisses me softly on the cheek, her lips lingering for a second before pulling away. “Thank you.”

  I wink at her, “Anytime.”

  I hand her the old t-shirt and walk out of the room, going straight into my own.

  Now how the fuck am I going to be able to sleep knowing that Charlotte is in the next room?

  Chapter 24

  Jax

  When I wake up the next morning, I pull on a pair of gym shorts and remember to slip on a t-shirt before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

  Normally, I go to work out at the fitness center in my townhouse complex. After that, I head to work in my shop. Today, I've decided not to.

  I walk past the guest room on my way downstairs and see that the door is still closed.

  When I walk into the kitchen, I immediately pour a fresh, hot cup of coffee and go over last night in my mind.

  I can’t believe any of that shit happened.

  And I really can’t fucking believe that I didn’t do anything about it.

  I'm standing in my kitchen, lost in thought, when Charlotte quietly enters. I give her a casual glance, trying not to be obvious as I study her. Her hair is swept up into a loose ponytail. She's still
only wearing my concert tee from last night. It's big on her, it barely covers her knees.

  Damn she looks so fucking sexy. She doesn't have any makeup on. And yet, she's never looked this beautiful. I feel like an asshole, gawking at her like an adolescent that just discovered his dick. What’s wrong with me?

  I clear my throat, “Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”

  The bruise on her face has gotten a little darker and she brushes a couple of straggling hairs out of her eyes, “Yes. Thank you very much for letting me stay last night.”

  “No problem.”

  “I truly appreciate it. I called and reserved a room at a hotel for the time being. I’m going to go by my house this morning to pack a few things, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  I don’t want her “out of my hair”. “There’s really no rush, Charlotte.”

  She smiles, “That’s sweet, but it’s for the best.”

  Maybe it is. “Well, will you at least let me go with you to your house?”

  She shakes her head standing on the other side of the granite island in the middle of my kitchen, “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if Nicholas is there?”

  “Exactly. I want to be there in case that asshole is.”

  She looks worried by that, “The chances of that are very slim. I’m sure he’s at the office. But if you’re there, and he shows up that would raise suspicion.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about his suspicions. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

  “Well it’s Saturday, I’m sure you have better things to do on your day off.”

  I laugh at that, “Yeah, I don’t actually have a day off. I am partial owner, so I can go in whenever I want. No big deal.”

  She finally relents, “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “Yeah, I am. Now, let’s get you fed. I don’t cook, but I have coffee and cereal, if you’re interested.”

  She takes a seat on the bar stool at the island, “That sounds wonderful, thank you. If I knew how to cook I would certainly offer to make you breakfast, but unfortunately it’s not a skill I possess either.”

  I pull down a coffee cup for Charlotte and fill it, placing it in front of her, “Hey, I’ve lasted thirty years without that particular skill and have survived just fine.”

  She smiles and I grab her a bowl of cereal, “Alright, I’m gonna take a quick shower. I think the guest bathroom is stocked, if you want to take one too.”

  She takes a bite of cereal, “Thank you.”

  I nod my head and then head upstairs and into my room. I search through my drawers and find a pair of sweats with a drawstring from high school and another tee shirt. I leave them in the guest room for Charlotte. Just in case she doesn’t want to wear her fancy dress from last night.

  I strip and hop in the shower. Trying like hell not to think about Charlotte. Her wearing my shirt. It clinging to her body. Wondering if she has anything on underneath.

  Fuck. My cock swells at that image as I stand under the shower head rinsing the soap off of me. Now really isn’t the time.

  I probably should have opted for the cold water.

  I turn off the water and climb out, toweling off, then wrapping it around my waist.

  I grip the sink in front of me and stare into the mirror.

  Jesus Christ, I need to get it together. It’s been too long since I last got laid.

  That’s all it is.

  And that fucking kiss. Damn, I forgot what it’s like to kiss a woman like that. Not as a prelude to sex, but just an intense kiss that makes you lose your fucking mind.

  I hurry getting dressed then dash downstairs. I don't see Charlotte, but I see she finished her breakfast. She must be upstairs.

  As I straighten the kitchen, I hear her coming down the stairs. When she appears in the kitchen, I see she's wearing the sweats and shirt I lent her. They're both huge on her, so she's rolled up the pants legs and shirt sleeves. I want to laugh; she looks like she's stepped out of a page from the 'walk of shame' handbook.

  Her hair is damp from her shower and she has her dress folded across her arm, holding onto her purse.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have anything closer to your size.”

  She laughs, “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

  I shake my head, “No, I don’t think that’s possible. You ready?”

  She nods, and I follow her in my truck to her house. She doesn’t pull into the garage, but instead parks in front and I pull up behind her car.

  We walk up the sidewalk, past her perfectly manicured lawn. Charlotte unlocks the main door to her home.

  I step into the marble-floored foyer and look around at the massive house.

  “I don’t think Nicholas is home.”

  I nod, “Okay, I’ll wait here while you pack.”

  She lifts her hand to point to a living room, “Please, make yourself comfortable. I will be right back.”

  “No rush.”

  She walks up a winding staircase and I sit down on the hard couch. This house is fucking huge, but it seems cold, almost like no one actually lives here.

  It’s really not what I pictured for Charlotte. It has no personal touches whatsoever.

  I look above the fireplace where a single picture hangs. It’s clearly posed, Charlotte is wearing a sweater set. Her hair is down and pearls hang around her slender neck. The Senator is wearing a pressed suit and tie. Both smiles seem forced.

  I keep busy by checking some business emails on my phone about potential leads for clients and parts for the cars we are currently working on. It’s been a while now, so I decide to go check on Charlotte.

  Maybe she needs help carrying stuff down?

  I slowly and cautiously walk up the staircase, the master bedroom is at the top of the stairs and I peek in. I don’t see Charlotte anywhere. There is a small bag zipped up and ready to go on the bed, but that’s it.

  I walk in a little further, and notice Charlotte sitting on the floor of her walk-in closet. She has changed into the outfit she had on when we went to the City Market together. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and her head is resting on them.

  I kneel down beside her, placing my hand on her back, “Charlotte, what’s wrong?”

  She looks over at me, her head still resting on her knees, “These clothes. They are just awful. I can’t imagine taking any of them with me.”

  I look around the closet at all of the clothes that fill it, “They aren’t so bad.”

  “They all remind me of this fake image that was perpetuated by Nicholas. Only name brand, only worn one time. How am I supposed to figure out who I really want to be in these clothes?”

  She has a point. It’s all about the symbolism with women. “Okay, we can swing by the mall. I’m sure that they will have something.”

  “You don’t have to go shopping with me.”

  I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t mind.” I stand up and hold my hand out for her, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  She smiles and takes my hand. I help her up, and we stand still for a minute. Charlotte opens her beautiful mouth, nervously, “Thank you for everything, Jackson. And about last night...the uh…”

  I hold my hand up, hushing her. I don’t want her to apologize for kissing me and with everything going on, I think it’s for the best if we don’t mention it. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

  She smiles, letting it go. We walk into the bedroom where I pick up the single bag that she has packed, before heading back downstairs hand in hand.

  When we reach the foyer, she glances around her house. “I always hated this house.”

  I snap my head in her direction, not expecting that. “What?”

  “When we were house hunting, I found this beautiful, three-bedroom ranch-style house that I loved. But Nicholas said that it was below us; that we could do so much better. He picked this house out. It always felt too large and almost like a hotel.”

  So, I’m not the only one that thinks that... “A
bout that, you know that you are welcome to stay in my guest room.”

  She waves that off, politely, “I couldn’t do that, Jackson. I can’t bring you into my problems.”

  “I’m already in. And besides, someone should stay in my guest room. It’s there, and I would feel a lot better knowing that you are safe.”

  She seems to be thinking about it, which is more than I thought she would do when I offered. “I’m sure that Nicholas won’t hurt me again.”

  “You didn’t think he was capable of hitting you in the first place.”

  That seems to register with her, “That’s true, but I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve already been so helpful.”

  I grin. “You didn’t ask, I offered. It’s really not a big deal.”

  She smiles over at me, “Okay, if you don’t mind. The bed was really comfortable.”

  I grin. “Good, and the sheets?”

  “Wonderful, high thread count.”

  “See, better than a hotel.”

  She smiles, the playfulness that I’ve seen a handful of times coming back. “Except for the room service.”

  “Well, maybe we can work something out.”

  She laughs about that, and it feels damn good to provide a little lightness to the hell of the last twenty-four hours.

  When Charlotte and I get back to my townhouse after going to the mall, it’s already two in the afternoon.

  I help her carry in the many bags from several different stores in the mall. Most of it is casual clothes and shoes.

  I hate shopping, but I didn’t mind it today.

  We unload everything in the guest room, and then head back down the stairs. Charlotte sits down on the couch and I walk into the kitchen to grab the spare key from my junk drawer.

  I hand the key to Charlotte when I sit next to her on the couch. “Alright, so here’s a house key, I’ll write down the gate code for you, so you can come and go as you please.”

  “Thank you so much for letting me stay here.”

  “It’s really not a problem, Charlotte. You staying here just saves me from some sleepless nights worrying about Nicholas finding you at a hotel.”

  She seems pleased at that, and I stand up. “Okay, I have to run into the shop for a few hours and tie up some loose ends. Will you be okay?”