Jake Forever (Jaked Book 3)

by Sabrina Stark

  His voice was sharper than I expected. "Tell you what?"

  "About the video."

  He gave me a what-the-hell look. "You think it's a secret?"

  "Well, no," I stammered. "Not exactly. But it would've been nice to hear about it firsthand."

  "Yeah? Why?"

  "What kind of question is that?"

  "I dunno."

  I tried again. "Did you know that girl?"

  Now, he looked almost bored. "What girl?"

  "Oh come on. You know which one." My tone grew snotty. "Nipple Girl. Before last night, did you know her?"

  "Nope."

  I stared up at him. "Nope? Is that all you're gonna say?"

  "What do you want me to say?"

  Damn it. It was like talking to a brick wall. Whatever I threw at him, it just bounced off without making any impression whatsoever.

  I gave him a pleading look. "Jake–"

  "Why were you fired?"

  I blinked up at him. "What?"

  "You said you were fired. What were you fired for?"

  I paused, startled by the sudden change of topic. "Technically, I'm not completely sure I was fired. I just think I was. It's all kind of complicated."

  "Right."

  Standing there in my stupid work uniform, the room was feeling colder with every passing second. "Gee, thanks for the sympathy."

  He gave a half-hearted shrug, but said nothing. His gaze drifted downward, and I was increasingly conscious of my stupid, frilly white blouse and my high-cut shorts. No wonder I was cold. Probably, I should've grabbed a coat or something.

  When Jake still said nothing, I asked, "Are you mad at me or something?"

  "Nope."

  Just great. Another nope. "Is that all you can say?"

  A ghost of a smile softened his response. "Nope."

  "Oh come on," I said. "Now you're just goading me."

  Jake was good at goading people. I'd seen that for myself. From what I'd witnessed firsthand, he could make just about anyone lose it. But why me? And why now? What was I missing?

  He glanced toward the elevators. "We done?"

  I crossed my arms. "Nope."

  This time, he offered no hint a smile. In fact, I saw no real expression at all as he gazed silently down at me, waiting for what, I had no idea.

  I waited, too, and as the seconds passed, all of my frustrations – my crappy day, the uncertainty of my job, the fact that he was acting like a giant asshat – it all bubbled to the surface, and I couldn’t help but say, "God, what's your problem?"

  "Luna," he said in an obscenely calm voice, "you don't wanna know."

  "You're wrong," I told him. "I do want to know."

  "No. You don't, because it's nothing new, and I don't want to fight about it. Not today."

  I made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, right."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning that you're always up for a fight. Why should today be any different?"

  Over the years, I'd seen Jake in countless fights. Some I'd seen in real-life. Others, I'd seen on-line. Some of them were so brutal, I could hardly watch. But I knew one thing. Jake didn't shy away from anything, especially a good fight.

  But in front of me, he remained obscenely calm. "Is that so?"

  With a look of defiance, I nodded.

  "You sure you don't want rethink that?"

  "Oh, I'm sure."

  Again, he grew silent, and I started to feel slightly uncomfortable, because I knew exactly what he was getting at. When it came to me, he wasn't exactly the fighting type.

  It wasn't that he was a pushover – far from it – but he didn't like to argue any more than I did.

  And I hated it.

  "Alright, fine," I finally said, "I know you don't pick fights with me, but come on. Let's discuss this like adults, okay?"

  "Sure." His voice hardened. "Go ahead."

  "What?"

  "Yeah. You wanna talk?" He made a forwarding motion with his hand. "Let's hear it."

  "That's not what I mean. If something's bothering you, I want to know."

  "Yeah? Well, it looks to me like you're the one who's bothered."

  Why deny it? "You're right. I am bothered. And you're not helping."

  Again, I thought of that girl, cradled against his chest as he carried her away from all the commotion. I thought of the hours that I'd spent waiting at his penthouse, alone, wondering if he was okay. I thought of her lips on his crotch and his smile for camera.

  I didn't want to ask. But I had to, because if I wondered one more minute, I'd go insane. In a very soft voice, I said, "That girl, do you like her?"

  And then, there were the questions I didn't ask.

  Do you want her?

  Did you have her?

  I felt myself swallow. Is she going to be my replacement?

  Chapter 12

  Standing in the quiet space, Jake looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

  Who knows? Maybe I had.

  Finally, he said, "What girl? The one from last night?"

  I felt myself nod.

  "You serious?"

  Of course, I was serious. And honestly, I was a little surprised that he didn't know exactly what I was talking about. Or was this all some sort of act?

  Looking up at him, I said, "Well, you're being kind of secretive, so you know, I just thought I should ask."

  He made a sound of disbelief. "Secretive?"

  "Well, yeah."

  "Let me get this straight," he said. "You think that I’m so fucking stupid that I'd be messing around on you, putting the moves on some other girl…" He made air-quotes. "In secret, in front of six million other people?"

  I heard myself mutter, "Probably seven million by now."

  "Screw the numbers," he said. "Why would you think that?"

  I gave him a pleading look. "Do I even need to explain this?"

  "Yeah. You do."

  "Well, you were carrying her–"

  "Not my idea."

  "Oh, please," I said. "What'd she do? Force you?"

  "No. What she did was sprain her ankle." He gave a half-shrug. "Or so she said."

  "So she said?" I hesitated. "So she might've been lying?"

  "Don’t know, didn't ask."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I didn't care."

  "You cared enough to carry her."

  "As opposed to what?" he said. "Taking off, and letting her deal with Dorian on her own?"

  I was glaring at him now. "Well maybe Dorian wouldn't have been so mad if she wasn't using your crotch as a napkin." At the image, I felt that sick feeling grow in my stomach. "And the way it looked, you weren't doing a whole lot to stop her either."

  "Sorry, I was kind of busy."

  I gave him a good, long look. He didn't sound very sorry. My voice was shaking now. "And you were smiling. You smiled straight into the camera like you were loving every minute of it."

  "Yeah?" His jaw clenched. "Well, I wasn't."

  "Could've fooled me."

  "It wasn't meant to fool you. But fooling those other people?" His tone grew mocking. "My fans? Yeah, I'll fool 'em all day long and sleep easy doing it."

  "That doesn't make any sense," I said. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

  "No? Then pretend you're me, and try again."

  "I can't," I said, "because I don't have girls throwing themselves at me."

  His voice grew quiet. "You think I liked that?"

  I recalled the look on his face, that shit-eating grin, straight into the camera. "No. I think you loved it." When he said nothing, I added, "At least, you sure looked like you loved it."

  "Yeah? Well, lemme ask you something. Let's say I didn't love it. What then?"

  "What do you mean, 'What then?'"

  "Let's say I was disgusted, you think I'm gonna show it?"

  I blinked. "Were you? Disgusted, I mean?"

  "Hell yeah, I was disgusted. That chick was a mess. Sloppy as hell. Godawful perfume." He practically shudde
red. "And you wanna hear something else? Chick almost barfed on me."

  I stared up at him. His description was at such odds with what I'd seen on that video, I didn't know what to say.

  "So yeah," Jake continued, "I was disgusted. You feel better now?"

  Yes.

  I paused.

  And no.

  Yes, because I'd rather have him disgusted than fawning over some other girl. And no, because even though I desperately wanted to, I couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

  I gave him a dubious look. "You didn't look disgusted."

  "Yeah," he said. "And thus, the six million views."

  I tried to think. What was he telling me? That the whole thing was just an act?

  I shook my head. That couldn’t be true. I knew Jake. He'd always been a hell-raiser. And his personality hadn't changed, not really. The only thing that was different now was the number of people who got to watch him.

  Thinking aloud, I spoke slowly, trying to work it out in my own mind. "So with that girl, you just pretended to like it? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yeah. That's what I’m saying."

  It felt like a lie – a pretty lie, designed to make me feel better. Still, I made myself ask, "But why?"

  "You know why."

  I made a sound of frustration. "Honestly, I don't."

  "Alright. I'll spell it out. You know my fans. You think they're gonna line up to watch some guy who doesn’t smile when a hot girl plants her face against his cock?"

  I drew back, disturbed at the image. And I couldn’t help but notice that he'd called the girl hot. Maybe it shouldn't have mattered, but I still didn't like it.

  I looked away, gazing out toward the tall windows of his luxurious office suite. The day had been sunny when I'd arrived. But now, dark storm clouds were rolling in.

  Good.

  It matched my mood.

  Jake's voice cut through the silence. "What was I supposed to do? Shriek and run away?"

  I turned toward him and said, "Well, you didn't have to look so happy about it."

  "Hey, you play the hand you're dealt."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He shrugged. "I dunno."

  I didn't want to, but I had to ask. "And what about your pants?"

  "What about them?"

  "Why'd you change them?" I hesitated. "Was it because of her?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Fearful of sounding even more like a jealous harpy, I struggled to find the words. "Well, you were gone a long time, and when you showed up, you were wearing different pants, so I was just wondering how that happened…" I let the words trail off, hoping he'd pick up the thread.

  He didn't.

  His arms were crossed, and his muscles were bulging. The look on his face was making me just a little bit nervous. I couldn’t quite read his expression, but I'd be a fool to think it was a happy one.

  Lamely, I continued. "So I was just wondering, you know, what happened?"

  His voice was cold. "To my pants?"

  "Well, uh, yeah, actually."

  "Like I told you last night, I changed them."

  "But why?"

  "Is that a serious question?"

  I felt myself nod.

  As an answer, he turned away and stalked across the open space, heading toward his private office. I watched, silently, as he opened the glass door and headed to the area behind his desk. Across the distance, I saw him reached down and grab a wadded bundle off the floor.

  I recognized the bundle immediately. It was his pants from last night. He left the glass-enclosed space and stalked back until he was, once again, standing across from me.

  He shook out the pants and held them up between us. "What do you think? Nice, huh?"

  I stared at the pants. Nice? Not really.

  Jake continued. "Let's say I came home wearing these, would've you liked it?"

  I was still staring. All across the crotch were smeared streaks of pink – bright pink, lipstick obviously. Right there. At ground zero.

  Jake made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, you'd have loved that, right? Me, showing up, in these?" He tossed the pants onto the floor and waited in stony silence until I looked up to meet his gaze.

  His eyes were dark, and his expression was stormy. There was something vaguely accusatory about the way he was looking at me.

  I didn't like it, because for one thing, I'd done nothing wrong. But of course, he could probably say the same. Couldn't he?

  I felt myself swallow. "Jake—"

  "And what kind of dick would I be?" He gave a slow shake of his head. "To show up, wearing those fucking things in front of you?"

  "Well maybe, it wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't let that chick use you as a human napkin."

  Even to my own ears, the analogy sounded woefully inadequate. It wasn't like that girl had wiped a mouthful of chicken grease on his sleeve. It was so much worse. She'd been pressing her lips onto his groin.

  She'd wanted him. They all wanted him. I recalled how I'd felt when Jake hadn't been mine. I'd wanted him with every fiber of my being. I still wanted him that way.

  But now, gazing up at him, I was feeling more uncertain with every passing second.

  Again, Jake glanced toward the elevator. For the second time, he said, "We done?"

  The coldness in his voice hurt to hear. Desperately, I tried again. "No. We're not done. Because I have a question."

  He gazed down at me in stony silence.

  Taking that for a yes, I struggled to find the words, words that might make him understand exactly how I was feeling. Deliberately, I softened my tone. "If that were me, if our positions were reversed, if some guy planted his face in my crotch, what would you do?"

  His jaw clenched. "You know what I'd do."

  He was wrong. I didn't. But I did know that he wouldn't like it, and that was my whole point.

  But before I could drive the point home, Jake leaned closer and spoke again. "I'd fuckin' kill him. That's what I'd do."

  Chapter 13

  Standing there, I craned my neck to look up at him. All the prior coldness – in Jake's eyes, in the office, on my skin – it was gone in a flash, replaced by heat so searing, I wanted to fan myself.

  I was horrified. And thrilled. And just a little bit scared. Looking to tone everything down a notch, I said, "You mean rhetorically, right?"

  He gave a shrug.

  "That's no kind of answer," I said.

  "Yeah? Well too bad. Because that's all you're getting."

  I drew back. "Why?"

  "Because there are some things you don't need to know. That's why."

  Well, that wasn't ominous or anything.

  I reminded myself that normal people – normal guys – they didn't think that way. And they sure as heck didn't act that way.

  Over the years, I'd dated a lot, especially in college. Those others guys? None of them would do this. None of them would hint at dark and deadly things, and then refuse to discuss it afterward.

  And what, exactly, was he saying, anyway?

  Wanting a better view of him, I took a step backward. "Let me get this straight. Some chick can practically molest you in public, and that's okay, but–"

  "I never said that."

  Ignoring his lame protest, I continued. "But if the situation were reversed, if it were a guy doing the same thing to me, that wouldn't be okay?"

  His voice hardened. "What do you think?"

  At this point, I didn't know what to think. But I did know it wasn't fair. It wasn't even logical.

  Jake was smart. He might not always show it, but he was. Back in our hometown, I'd always suspected as much. But over the past few weeks, I'd seen a lot more of his business operations. I'd also seen a lot more of him.

  He was sharp and had a real knack for numbers. Yeah, he spent a lot of money, but he invested a whole lot more. I wasn't a big numbers person myself, but I knew enough to realize that he could stop working at any time and still li
ve like a king for the rest of his life.

  I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present. "What do I think?" I said. "I think it's a double-standard. That's what."

  "No," he said in voice that grew annoyingly calm, "because it's not the same thing."

  "It is, too." I glared up at him. "What are you gonna tell me next? That you're allowed cheat or something? And I'm not?"

  Probably, it was a stupid point. I didn't want to cheat. And the thought of him cheating? Well, it hurt. It hurt a lot. But if that was his attitude, I needed to know. "Well?" I said. "Is that the way it is?"

  He gave me a look that I couldn’t quite make out. "You think I'd cheat on you?"

  Did I? I didn't want to think that. But how I could not wonder, especially after seeing him smile while another girl crawled all over him?

  I closed my eyes and tried to think. That scene from the video – he'd explained that. And stupid or not, I believed him, even if I still didn't like it.

  I opened my eyes and struggled to find the words. "It just sounds like there's one set of rules for you, and another set for me. You know?"

  "That's not it."

  "Well it sure sounds like it." I gave him a pleading look. "Come on, Jake. Look at it from my point-of-view. Some girl jumps you, and that's okay? But some guy jumps me, it's not?"

  His expression darkened. "You really wanna go there?"

  "Go where?" I said. "Truth-land? Yeah. I do." My voice rose. "Because for once, I just want a straight answer. Why is that so hard?"

  Slowly, he moved closer until we were once again, almost touching. Towering over me, he said in a very quiet voice. "I'll tell you why. It's because you're not me."

  "What does that mean?"

  He lowered his head the barest fraction. "It means that if I want to stop somebody from doing something, it's a hell of a lot easier for me than it is for you."

  I knew what he was getting at. Yeah, he was bigger than me. And stronger than me. By a lot.

  And yeah, he was something else, a lot more brutal than I could ever be on my worst day. From watching some of his videos, I knew how quickly his easy demeanor could morph into something different, something just shy of deadly. Or worse.

  I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.

  In front of me, Jake lowered his head another fraction. "You wanna compare?" he said. "Take me and that girl. If she were a threat to me – which she wasn't – I could've handled her in a heartbeat."