Fate Hates (Twist of Fate Book 1)

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Fate Hates (Twist of Fate Book 1) Page 11

by Tina Saxon


  A beautiful mistake.

  A tear escapes from my closed eyes. I feel his thumb brush it away. “I’m sorry, Em,” he whispers.

  I open my eyes and look right into those beautiful emerald green eyes. “I’m not.” My breath hitches. “Jett, I don’t regret this. I don’t regret you. I regret our ending.” I pull him down to me, bringing his lips to mine. I pour all my emotions into this one kiss. It’s soft. It’s heated. It’s rushed. It’s slow. It’s love. Devastating love. It’s goodbye.

  He pulls out of me and the feeling of loss shakes me to my core. He takes off the condom and throws it away then climbs back into bed, pulling me into him. “Don’t think about the end,” he whispers into my ear as he strokes my hair away from my face.

  It’s all I can think about.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I WAKE TO Melanie walking in my room. I immediately look to my side, searching for Jett. My heart pounds, afraid that I will find him there. I slowly release the breath that I’d been holding when I find the other side of the bed empty.

  I let out a big yawn and stretch. Thoughts of last night come flooding back as I feel the delicious soreness between my legs. Blushing from my thoughts, I glance up to Melanie, hoping she’s not watching me. I see that she’s brought my favorite chai tea latte. I peek under the covers and I’m surprised to find myself dressed. Jett must have dressed me because I have no recollection of dressing myself. I guess great sex really takes it out of you. I laugh as I get up and walk over to the table.

  Melanie watches me as I suck down my drink. I release an appreciated sigh. “This drink,” I say as I shake the cup only filled with ice now, “may only take me a few minutes to drink, but for those few minutes everything is right in my life. So, thank you.”

  Melanie warmly smiles as she places her hand over her heart. “You look so much like her, Emily. She was so beautiful and youthful. She made Travis a better man. I thought for sure if anyone could save Travis, Lana could.” I can hear the love in Melanie’s voice when she talks about my mom. She sighs, and I know where her thoughts are. Her eyes gloss over as she pulls me in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, Emily.” We share a silent moment before she turns to leave.

  When Melanie leaves, my emotional ups and downs from the last twelve hours leave me feeling mentally drained. I curl up in bed. The cool sheets feel refreshing and allow me to relax and drift off to sleep.

  I wake not much later to a quiet, almost peaceful room. The brightness shines into the room giving a false sense of tranquility, because outside this door is anything but. Sitting up, I glance around the room, taking in a deep breath. Today is the day I try and leave this prison. A small laugh escapes my lips as I think about the oxymoron using the word prison. I’m surrounded by luxury. Throwing my head back on my pillow, I think about the last five days. I thought coming here would give me an idea of who killed my mom. Instead, I find out who my father is, have a whirlwind affair with a bodyguard—a hot bodyguard—and, of course, find out the man who did kill my mom is dead. Not bad for a week, I think, as I spontaneously laugh. I’m sure whoever is watching me thinks I’m losing it.

  After I shower and quickly dry my hair, loosely wrapping it in a bun, I wonder if my door is still locked. I walk over and reach for the door handle but then hesitate. The anticipation has my heart beating a little faster. Beyond this door is my freedom. Freedom away from Travis. But that also means freedom from Jett. A part of me hopes that the doorknob won’t turn, which is the exact reason I need to leave here soon. Jett may seem perfect, but he’s the wrong kind of perfect.

  I grab the cold door handle and twist. It turns and I hear the click as I pull it toward me. I blow out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and walk into the empty hallway, looking both directions. Not knowing where to go, I hear a door open at one end and Jett comes strolling out. My whole body heats up looking at him. He’s wearing low hanging basketball shorts and a black T-shirt. His eyes run over the length of my body. My body temperature spikes when I see his lust-induced, emerald green eyes sparkle. I get anxious and fidgety. My hands need something to do, so I take out my bun and redo it, like it’s in need of fixing.

  When he approaches, I shyly say, “Hi.” I look up to the ceiling and roll my eyes in embarrassment. What the hell, Addison. I sound like a prepubescent teenager. I’m a confident, independent woman and this man makes me feel like I’m sixteen all over again. I clear my throat, straighten my spine, and look into his eyes and try again. “Hey.”

  Jett laughs and shakes his head as he grabs my hand. “Let’s go show you around.” Walking down the hallway, we pass door after closed door. We walk in silence, hand in hand. Jett leans over and whispers, “I feel the same.” I look at him confused. He smiles his sexy grin, displaying those dimples. “When I saw you standing there looking gorgeous, I had to keep myself back from running to you and taking you back into your room. Emily, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left your room last night.” He rights himself and continues walking like he said nothing important.

  My heart skips a beat, and I sneak a look up to him. He looks down at me and winks. My heart hurts. What started out as a means to justify the end is starting to be a need with no ending. My need has morphed to an insatiable hunger.

  Reality hits me. I need to move faster on my plan. As soon as a window of opportunity presents itself, I need to follow through. As much as it’ll hurt me to leave Jett, he’s a small part in the big picture.

  “Where are we going?” My voice comes out high pitched and rushed. Really, Addison! I’m all over the place this morning. Jett assesses me with raised eyebrows and twisted lips. I wave him off and steady my voice, ignoring his inquisitive stare.

  “So? Where to?” I say as I walk, pulling him with me.

  He lets go of my hand and crosses his arms. His stare pins me in my spot. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Emily?” He questions like he’s interrogating me. His eyes don’t miss a thing.

  “Nothing, Jett,” I say trying to convey confidence. “It feels weird to be out of that room, and then you… after last night… I’m all out of sorts this morning.” I sigh.

  “We can go sort things out, if you’d like.” He moves in quickly, pressing his body against mine as he leans down and kisses me softly on the lips.

  I jump back in surprise, caught off guard. “Jett,” I warn. “This is so wrong on so many levels. I’m a prisoner in this house. People will think I have Stockholm Syndrome,” I say seriously and hold up a hand to stop him from coming closer.

  Offering a bemused smile, he answers, “You can always say no, sweetheart. Let’s go.” He grabs my hand in midair and pulls me into the kitchen. Say no to that body? I don’t think anyone in their right mind could do that.

  Looking around at the beautiful kitchen with picturesque windows facing the patio, I say, “I already ate this morning. Melanie brought some food.” Jett grabs some eggs and bacon from the fridge. He’s a sight to see cooking in the kitchen. I sit on one of the bar stools and study him as he continues to make breakfast. The muscles in his back flex whenever he moves. I’m appreciating the backside of his body, remembering exactly what that body did to mine last night. A quiet moan escapes my lips.

  He slowly turns and the corner of his mouth twitches. “You keep looking at me like you want to eat me,” he growls. “I don’t care who knows about us, I will throw you on that table and have a feast myself.” My whole body trembles, and I clench my thighs together trying to find the friction I’m all of a sudden in need of. I look to the table and I’m not sure I care either. Jett has a devilish glint in his eyes. He walks—or more appropriately stalks—toward me.

  I hop out of my chair, grabbing onto the counter. “Jett. You wouldn’t,” I say, giggling, and try to tame the beast about to attack. He keeps walking around the island toward me. I slide around the other way, keeping hold of the counter like it’s going to protect me. His walk increases to
a run. I scream and laugh as I keep running around the counter, away from him. We both slow, still opposite of each other, his beautiful emerald green eyes never leaving mine.

  I’m trying to gauge his next move in this playful game of cat and mouse. I arch my eyebrows, taunting him a little. “How hungry are you?” I breathe out. He audibly sucks in a breath.

  “Woman,” he warns, the devilish grin still on his face.

  I’m bouncing on my feet trying to predict which way he’ll run, but I seem to have misread him. He instantly jumps over the counter and grabs me as I dramatically squeal in surprise. He wraps his hand around my back pulling me into him. Our body’s mold to each other. I instantly feel his arousal.

  “I’m starving,” he says as he bites my earlobe then sucks it into his mouth. He wraps his hands around my hair and tugs, giving him full access to my neck. My lips part and my breath quickens as he alternates biting and sucking. I can feel the slickness of my arousal already. He whispers, “The real question is if I’m going to throw you on the table and feast on that sweet pussy…” I release a sigh, his lips barely hovering over mine “…or do I take you right here, bury my cock in that tight pussy of yours that’s begging me to fuck you hard and fast again?” He crushes his lips to mine. He pushes his erection into me. My hands wrap around his hard-muscled arms, trying to hold onto him while he devours me with his kiss.

  The sound of someone’s voice brings us back to reality. “I hate to interrupt, but I think the bacon is done.”

  We break apart quickly and look to see Travis standing in the kitchen, displaying a wide grin, chuckling. My face flushes with embarrassment. Oh, fucking hell! I whip around, unable to escape Jett’s embrace quick enough.

  “Um…” I try to think of a reason to get the hell out of the kitchen. Fast. “I forgot to…” Why can’t I think of something. “Whatever. I just need to go.” I throw my hands in the air. I speed walk to my room, shutting myself back into the prison I couldn’t wait to get out of. Damn distractions!

  * * *

  Half an hour later, enough time to calm my racing heartbeat, I hear a knock at the door. I look at the door expecting it to open but it doesn’t. Hmm, weird. Then another knock. I guess since I’m not a prisoner in this room, I get the luxury of privacy. Novel idea.

  I answer the door only to find Jett leaning against the doorjamb. My heartbeat might have calmed down, but the sexual tension between the two of us is anything but calm. Damn, that man is gorgeous. His arms are crossed, which shows off the muscles in his biceps.

  I turn around to walk back into the room. I hear the door shut but can tell he is still in the room by the way my body reacts. He fixes his eyes on me. “Jett, we can’t do this,” I say, turning away from him. I know that if I look at him I won’t be able to stop him. I’m about to continue when I feel his hard body right behind me.

  He sweeps my hair to the side before he bends down to whisper, “I’m sorry, Emily. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day you showed up in this room, but when I’m in the same room as you, I can’t stay away from you. I know this is a bad idea, but fuck, Emily… there’s this chemical reaction when we’re together that I can’t explain. It’s melting things inside of me. Things that were frozen. Things that should stay frozen. ”

  I shake my head. “Why couldn’t we have met somewhere, anywhere, but here?” I turn to face him. “This isn’t my reality, Jett. I have a life outside these walls, one that I actually like.” He lowers his forehead to mine. He breathes out a big sigh.

  “Yep,” he says in a strangled voice. We stand there for a couple minutes in silence. I immediately feel the loss of his body when he steps back. His jaw clenches with his hardened expression. His hands are fisted into his shorts pockets. I crack my knuckles out of habit; it’s something I do when I’m nervous. “So, I was going to go for a run around the property. Would you like to come?” he quietly asks as his expression softens.

  “Sure,” I say, looking down at my bare feet, “but I’ll need to put on my shoes.” Maybe exercising will help clear my head.

  “I’ll meet you in the hallway. I need to grab my gun.” I tilt my head and twist my lips. Understanding my confusion, he answers, “Travis doesn’t like us leaving the house without our guns. Even if it’s still on his property…” he smirks “…you never know when unexpected guests might drop in.”

  I playfully push him toward the door. “Ha, ha. Cute.”

  We’re outside stretching and Jett tells me that there is a dirt track around the compound. He uses the term house, but compound is more realistic. We set our stride, keeping up with each other. I can feel Jett’s gaze on me, so I glance up meeting those emerald green eyes. Assessing.

  “I’m in the dark here, Emily.” He sighs. “I still have no clue why you’re here. Travis demands that you stay here, but why?”

  I look forward, continuing to keep up with him but remaining quiet. A few minutes pass and I whisper, “I can’t tell you.” He doesn’t press the issue anymore.

  We continue our run in silence, only hearing the pounding of each step. My Jett-induced fog lifts with each step I take and clarity rears its ugly head. Reality sets in that Jett has never mentioned helping me leave. He works for Travis. Travis demands I stay. Have I been stupid not to see what’s going on? I knew from the beginning Jett was playing me, but he sounds so sincere now. Is he trying to make me fall in love with him so I don’t leave?

  My pace increases, as does my anger. Jett keeps in step with my pace, glancing at me from time to time. As we make our way around to the side of the house, I realize that we are going to run in front of the house. Right by the bushes where I know what is waiting for me on the other side. My heart pounds. Shaking out my hands to calm my nerves, I glance around to make sure I don’t see any other men.

  “Want to race?” I say as I run ahead, gaining a small lead.

  “Come on, sweetheart, show me what you got,” Jett teases, smacking my ass as he passes me. I don’t want to catch him, but I want him to think that I am trying. I see the spot. The spot that hopefully will be my way out as much as it was my way in. The hope that Jett doesn’t connect the two makes what I’m about to do more crucial to get right the first time.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  It’s now or never.

  “Shit!” I say as I fall to the ground. My knees hit the ground and I roll. One of my knees is bleeding, but my adrenaline masks any real pain. The fall needs to be believable. Jett comes back running.

  “Em, are you okay?” Jett is sincerely worried. He bends down and inspects my knee.

  “Shit, it hurts. I think I twisted my ankle.” My words come out pained. While he inspects my ankle, I inspect his gun. He’s wearing a shoulder strap holster. My stomach twists at what I’m about to do. He stands up and gets ready to lift me off the ground. “Wait, let me see if I can stand first.” Instead, he grabs my already waiting hand and pulls me up.

  I use the momentum as I swing my knee into his groin area. As he drops screaming in pain, I swiftly grab his gun on his way down. “FUCCCKKK! What the hell, Emily!” Jett’s words grate through his clenched teeth. He looks up at me but stares into the barrel of a gun. His gun. “Emily, put the gun down,” he demands, trying to stand up. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” I smirk, internally laughing. I know my time is limited before Travis’s other guys come running. I’m sure they have been watching. We’re far enough away from the house that I will still have a two-minute head start before they can make it to me.

  Jett must see what’s about to happen. My hands grip the gun as blood runs down my leg. There is no other way. My heart aches, knowing what’s about to happen. It hasn’t had time to catch up with my head. I’ll never forget you, Jett.

  “Emily, don’t!” Jett’s voice rises and his words are rushed, “Tonight I’m—”

  I don’t wait for him to finish. Anything he says is only trying to keep me
here. I pull the trigger. Jett lets out a grunt and falls to the ground. I spin around and run, holding onto the gun. I don’t look back in fear of seeing what I did. I don’t have time for regret or apologies. Right before climbing over the fence, I hear Jett scream, “I can’t believe you fucking shot me!”

  The adrenaline flowing through my body has me running faster than ever before. I run to my car, assuming it’s still there.

  Oh, Shit! What if it’s not?

  Chapter Twenty-three

  MY HAND SHAKES as I unlock my door. I let out a huge sigh of relief as I drive away in the opposite direction. Looking through my rearview mirror, I keep expecting someone to be following me but no one is. I drive an hour before I’m sure and pull over at a rest stop. Letting my head fall back in my seat, I let out a loud scream that I’d been holding on to since I left. I beat my hands on the steering wheel as I break into an uncontrollable sob. My mind is racing, trying to decipher the tears. Anger. Relief. Remorse. Heartbreak. It can be any one of them or all of them combined.

  My cell phone is dead, so I plug it in and wait for the Apple logo to pop up. A flow of dings lets me know I’ve been missed. I’m not surprised to see over fifty texts and numerous missed calls. Most are from Sydney. I thought I had my emotions under control before making the call, but when I hear Syd’s voice the dam breaks.

  “Addison?” Syd asks when all I can do is sniffle. “Addie, you need to let me know this is you.”

  “It’s… me,” I stutter as I press my hand to my chest, trying to stop the ache.

  “Oh, my God, Addie. It’s been five days since you last called. I’ve been freaking out. I was so close to calling the police and coming to look for you myself. Please tell me that you’re okay.”

  Okay? Not even close. I struggle to speak, trying to find the right words. How do I explain my last five days? Chewing on my cheek, fighting the sobs wanting to escape, I scream out, “Fuuuuckkkkk!” That’s all I’ve got.

 

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