by Jordan Ford
With a feral scream, she yanked me out and yelled in my face. “I never should have had you! Now go to your room and leave me alone!” She shoved me out of her office, grumbling to herself. “Nothing but a mistake.”
I pull the motorcycle to a stop outside my motel door, still trying to dodge the sting of her comments…or the fact that they were true. For ten years they’ve stuck to me like freaking glue. Grandpa Wade spent that summer convincing me it was my parents’ problem, not mine. His cheeks tinged a shameful red as he muttered things about his son and daughter-in-law—high-flying execs who accidentally got pregnant.
“I wish they hadn’t had me at all,” I mumbled, fighting tears, unable to hide my bitterness.
Grandpa slapped me on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad they did. Who the heck would I play with every summer if you weren’t around?” He winked and smiled—made everything better.
Getting off my bike with an aching groan, I shuffle to reception to ask for another key card. I don’t have any ID and hope the lady I’ve been interacting with will be on reception. I’ve been paying a week in advance, chatting her up in the hopes of a discount. It’s a good thing I thought ahead; otherwise my penniless ass would be hitting the curb right now.
I open the door and my insides wash with relief.
“Oh my Lord. What happened to you?” the lady asks before I even reach the counter.
“Mugged.” I hitch my shoulder, hoping it’s enough of an explanation.
She scrambles for the phone. “Let me call the police.”
“I’ve already spoken to them.” I keep my eyes on her round face, hoping she won’t see my lie.
The phone beeps off and she sets it down with a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry it’s happened.”
“That’s okay. Shit does, right?”
She snickers and shakes her head. Her brown curls bob as she pulls open the drawer and sets me up with a new keycard.
“Thank you so much.” Smiling hurts, so I just give her a faint hint of gratitude.
“Call me if you need anything.”
I nod and head for my room, shoving my hands in my hoodie pockets and hunching my shoulders against the biting wind.
I won’t be calling her. I’m used to looking after myself. From the time I was six weeks old, I’ve been in daycare and once school began, I spent my afternoons at a private afterschool program with nine other kids and a bunch of try-hard college students who were desperately trying to pay their way. Mom and Dad would clip in late, always the last to collect me. They’d ignore me while they chatted to the ladies who worked there. I was always in trouble for something or other.
Every holiday I was shipped off to Grandma and Grandpa’s farm. It was the only place I behaved myself.
I slide my keycard into the scanner and wonder if the room will be trashed. Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I flick on the lights and gaze around the room. It’s neat and tidy, just the way I left it. Grandma taught me how to make a bed and clean up after myself.
I miss her.
After she died, I kind of lost the plot. The psychologist called it acting out. My parents called it a pain in the ass, so I was sent to live permanently with Mom’s folks. If I thought my mother was a cold fish, my grandmother was a sardine popsicle. Living with them was all kinds of hell, so I made it my mission to cause as much trouble as possible. If I was going to be miserable then so could everybody else. It took less than three months for them to send me to boarding school. I was thirteen years old and more trouble than I was worth. I was kicked out of two schools before I landed at Eton. I don’t know how much my family shelled out to get me in there, but it’s the only thing I’ll ever be grateful for.
If I hadn’t ended up at Eton, I never would have met Trey and Riley.
My brothers. My family.
I close my eyes, feeling sick. Stumbling to the bed, I flop onto it, gazing up at the ceiling and hating myself. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
I can’t go back to the cabin.
I can’t stay here either.
I need to hit the road again. Find somewhere new. Another town.
“Another girl,” I murmur, brushing my grazed chin.
For the first time in history, the idea doesn’t sit that well.
I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’ve always conquered. Any girl I’ve set my sights on has succumbed to a little Kingsley charm in seconds.
That’s why I never do repeats. Things never look as shiny and new the next day, and I don’t want any girl realizing that I’m one big fraud…a mistake that should never have been born.
I walk away first. That way I never get burned and girls will never work out the truth. I want to stay in their memories as a fun moment of passion or rebellion or whatever the hell they needed it to be.
“Julienne.” I whisper her name, wondering what she’s thinking of me right now.
I tried to kiss her and she shied away. Damn, I thought I’d read that one right. She touched my hand, was looking at me like she gave a shit. Kissing seemed like the natural next step, but she didn’t take it.
With a sharp huff, I sit up and hiss as pain sears my torso. I shuffle to the bathroom. The mirror is a mean bastard, letting me know exactly why Jules backed away.
I’m one ugly beast at the moment.
“Assholes,” I mutter, glaring at the mirror while thinking about the jerks who beat me. With a sharp growl, I lash out, punching the glass and instantly regretting it. Pain rockets through my hand. “Shit!” I cradle it against my bruised ribs, slump onto the toilet and unleash a string of foul swear words, each dirtier than the next.
By the time I’m done, I’m puffing like a rhino…and I don’t feel any better.
I wish Ry were here. He’d calm me down with that soothing voice of his, maybe empathize a little before making me come up with a plan. Trey would be pacing the room, fuming, making me feel better with a rant about what he’ll do to those guys when he gets his hands on them.
The image makes me laugh. It’s a soft breathy sound that soon morphs into a moaning kind of sob.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean my elbows on my knees and mutter, “Pull it together, you jerk. Just think!”
And that’s what I do.
Sitting there on the lid of the toilet, I force my brain to function like a normal human being’s and slowly come up with a plan.
*****
The next morning I head to the rink. It’s closed until 2pm on Monday, so my plan is to go see Keith, get the pay he owes me, and then take off before the rink even opens.
Jules isn’t working today, so I have her thirty bucks wrapped inside a thank you note. I kept it short and polite. She made it clear yesterday that she’s not into me. Even if we do like all the same movies and I made her smile multiple times while I let her beat me at Gin. Even though she cooked me a special meal and acted like she cared about me…
Whatever. I read her wrong. No big deal.
“I don’t care.” My chest constricts every time I mumble that to myself. I’m not sure why.
Dodging thoughts of the way she hummed as she cooked, I stroll around to the back of the building.
Julienne’s smile. The look in her hazel eyes as I tasted her ambrosia pie.
I’m tortured as I walk up the stairs.
The touch of her hand on my arm, the way she patched me up, gave me the last of her money.
Each memory hurts, bruises, irritates.
I don’t want to think about a girl who doesn’t want me!
I spent most of my childhood trying to win over the people who should have loved me the most. Nothing worked. After Grandma and Grandpa died, I swore I’d never care again. People can think whatever the hell they like about me. It’s not my problem.
I don’t need anyone!
Gently rubbing my aching head, I pause outside Keith’s office door and am now dodging memories of Trey, Riley…hell, even Ana.
&
nbsp; With a heavy sigh, I bang on Keith’s door.
“Come in.”
The door whines when I open it. Keith glances up from his paperwork, catching his breath when he sees me. His eyes bulge, and then he puffs out his cheeks and blinks a couple of times.
“A nosebleed, huh?” Dropping the paper on his desk, he stands and raises his eyebrows at me. “Well, aren’t you just full of shit.”
I close the door behind me and mutter, “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. I’m fine.”
“You look like you’ve fallen out of a punching bag.”
I wince and stare at the wooden floor. “Four guys jumped me. Took my stuff.”
“Left your blood on my ice.” Keith bends down with a sigh and grabs something off the floor. “Cassidy found this by the dumpster this morning.” A flash of green flies through the air and lands at my feet. “Look familiar?”
“Shit.” I crouch down, relief plowing through me as I scramble inside my ripped-up bag. The assholes mangled the thing but I don’t care. All I’m looking for is…
Not there.
My shoulders slump with a sigh as I pull out my wallet, emptied of cash. Thankfully I had no credit cards in there. My ID and motel key card have been ripped from their pouches and are now on the bottom of my bag. And my motorcycle key is still tucked in the hidden pocket I keep it in.
Well, that’s something, I guess.
“Take much?” Keith’s tone is quiet, kind of icy.
Licking my lip, I glance up and nod. “All my cash.”
“How much?”
“Few thousand,” I mumble.
Keith’s eyebrows flicker like he doesn’t understand why I would carry so much cash around. “Have you called the police?”
I shake my head. “No need to get them involved.”
“You look in a mirror lately? I kind of think there is.”
I swallow. My eyes are heavy as I glance up from the floor. It’s a struggle to look him in the eye…sell the lie.
“Aw, crap.” Keith scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re not about to tell me that you can’t get them involved, are you? Did I seriously hire a criminal?”
“I’m not…” I sigh and shake my head again.
“Cassidy keeps telling me to do background checks. I trust people too easily. That’s what she’s always telling me, but dammit, I had a good feeling about you, kid!”
“I’m not a criminal!” I fling my arms wide. “There are just certain people I’m trying to avoid, and the police aren’t going to help me do that.”
He closes his eyes with a huff and shakes his head. “That is the most ambiguous answer I’ve ever heard. You’re not a criminal but you’re hiding from people and the police can’t help. I’m sorry to tell you this, buddy, but that makes you sound exactly like a criminal!”
Shoving my hands in my jacket pockets, I clench my jaw and stare out the window.
Keith lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, but I can’t harbor some kind of fugitive. I won’t risk my business or the safety of the people who work here. Now if you say you’re not doing anything wrong, then just tell me the truth, and I can let you stay. Otherwise I’m going to have to fire you.”
I wince. If Jules’s rejection last night was like a slap, this conversation is like a punch to the groin.
“That’s fine.” I steel myself against the wave of emotion that is trying to drown me. “I came here to quit anyway. I just need the money you owe me and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Keith doesn’t respond so I look up. He’s staring at me with this sad smile. “You sure you don’t want to just tell me the truth?”
He looks like Grandpa Wade right now and it takes everything in me not to fall into the chair by his desk and spill all.
But I won’t betray my friends. Ana’s hiding because her family wants to kill her. I don’t need Keith thinking better and calling the cops about it.
“I can’t.” The words come out in this pathetic croak and I’m once again staring at the floor.
“Okay. Have it your way.” Keith walks to the safe. I look away as he punches in the combination, then thank him when he hands me the money.
He keeps a hold of it until I look at him. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but I wish you’d tell me. Cassidy will slap me on the back of the head for saying this, but…I’ve still got a good feeling about you. I want to help if I can.”
Why is he making this so damn hard?
“You can’t.” I manage to shake my head. “But thank you.”
Licking my split lip, I tuck the money into my pocket and head for the door. My legs are like lead as I pound down the stairs. My boots sound heavy and loud in the empty bar. With a sniff, I head for the sunlight but am stopped short by a small voice behind me.
“Kade.”
I jerk, then spin. Julienne’s hand is resting on the bar. Her eyes are wide and beautiful. Dark hair frames her face, the soft light cast through the window giving her this ethereal glow.
She’s so incredibly gorgeous.
“W-what are you doing here?” I can’t help but frown. She doesn’t want me and I shouldn’t be attracted to her this way. “You don’t work today.”
Taking a tentative step towards me, she holds out my shirt. “You left this at my place. I didn’t know the name of your motel so I figured I’d leave it on your bike, but then I saw you walking up to Keith’s office and I wanted to wait…give it to you myself.” Her voice peters off and she looks to the floor.
What the hell is she trying to do to me? That soft voice. That sweetness. She’s going to turn me into a ball of mush.
I have to get out of here.
“Thanks.” I take the shirt and head for the door.
“Wait.” She scuttles after me. “Oh, you found your bag.” She smiles. It’s beautiful.
“They took all my money.” I hold up the tattered material. “But I got my ID and room key back so…” I shrug.
She tips her head to study me. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Good enough to ride.”
“Are you…going somewhere?”
I yank the door open and glance back over my shoulder. “I’m gone, Jules. It’s time to move on.”
“What?” Her face crumples with surprise and sadness.
Why is she sad? She doesn’t want me.
I give her a confused frown before shaking my head and walking away.
Women.
I usually find them so easy to read, but this one’s damn impossible.
She acts nice, takes care of me, feeds me, and then leans away when I go to kiss her. I don’t understand. Girls don’t lean away when Kade Kingsley comes in for a kiss. That may sound arrogant but it’s the way it’s always been.
Jules is something else, though. Something dangerous.
I can’t afford to let her reel me in only to turn around and tell me she doesn’t want me. I’m the one who says when and where. I have to control it or…
Images of my cold, indifferent mother churn my stomach.
Hunching my shoulders, I storm to my bike.
“Wait! Please!” Jules is running after me, her short legs covering the distance at a pretty decent clip.
I don’t slow down though. I can’t afford to. I have to bolt. It’s the only way.
“Please, just…ah!”
It’s a sound of pain.
The gravel under my feet sprays as I spin to see what’s going on.
Jules is doubled over, clutching her belly with this terrified look on her face. Her expression bunches with pain, and the second she lets out this gasping whimper, I sprint back towards her.
#17:
A Revealing Book
Julienne
I grip my stomach, afraid to stand up. The sharp pain is like a knife blade digging into my lower abdomen.
I don’t know what it means. It’s terrifying.
I never asked for this baby, but I can’t ignore the flash of panic, that sudde
n fear that I’m about to lose it. The emotion both surprises and overwhelms me. Maybe it’s mingled with that pending dread of more pain to come as well.
Whatever it is, I don’t want to move.
“Jules.” Kade’s by my side. His hand on my back is large and reassuring. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I stand straight and try to give him a smile but another pang stabs me. I whimper and press my hand into the pain.
“Are you feeling sick?”
“No,” I squeak.
“Then what’s wrong? What are your symptoms?”
“Sharp pain. Stomach,” I whisper, praying he won’t ask for more.
He can’t know I’m pregnant. I just need to get home. I’ll check my book. That thing’s like a freaking bible. It’ll explain this pain away.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I say under my breath.
Kade puts his hand on my lower back and urges me towards his bike. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No!” I flinch away from him. “I can’t go to the hospital…and you can’t take me. Look at your face.” I point to his bruises, shake my head and veer towards the path.
“Jules!” He calls me back. “Where are you going?”
“Home!” I shout over my shoulder, breaking into a run.
But then the sharp pain gets me again and I falter, doubling over with another gasp. My foot catches on the pavement and I’m heading for a nosedive when Kade grabs my arm and hauls me back up.
“This is ridiculous,” he mutters, sweeping me into his arms. “I don’t care about my face. You’re in pain, so I’m taking you.”
“I don’t want to go.” I strain against him.
He holds on tight, making my kicking legs seem childlike and pathetic. “Please! I can’t! For all the same reasons you can’t!”
His lips part and the look in his eyes makes me go still.
