Jack Hammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  “Ah come on, chick. Live a little. It’s my bachelorette party, and all you’ve done is mope all night. Just one dance and we leave,” Sherry, the bride-to-be said.

  Her veil was hanging on to the back of her head for dear life and the Bride sash she wore across her chest had a little bit of everything she’d had to drink on it.

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “Come on, Chelsey. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to touch him and he won’t touch you,” Lynn assured me.

  “He won’t touch me? You promise?” I asked.

  “Not unless you want him to,” the guy letting the ladies into the back rooms said with a wink.

  I’d almost forgotten he was there. Like the guy manning the front door, he was bald and huge. He wore snake skinned boots and a florescent-green tank top. It was all kinds of wrong.

  I wanted to turn around and go home, but I preferred to leave with my best friend. I wasn’t the kind of person to leave her hanging, even if I’d been asking to leave from the moment my eyes landed on Blaine.

  I didn’t bother telling Lynn he worked there, and I was never more thankful she hadn’t noticed him. Thank God for florescent lights, fog machines, and her lightweight tendencies. I spent most of the night praying he wouldn’t return to the stage. I doubted I’d be that lucky again.

  The last thing I needed was her causing a drunken scene. She knew how badly he hurt me, and she was drinking. Lynn always got bold and loud when she was drinking. I just wanted to go home and forget I’d even gone to the place. Better yet, I just wanted to go home and forget Blaine Wesley even existed.

  “Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” I said, moving past the man and down a long, dark hallway lined with black doors.

  “Have fun!” The girls giggled behind me.

  “Yeah, do something I would do!” Lynn laughed.

  One song.

  That’s how long I’d sit there. And I’d keep my eyes closed the entire time. Whatever it took to get my ass back to New York City and back in my apartment where I didn’t have to think about anything but my assignments and grades. I’d learned a year ago that thinking about anything but those two things was bad for me.

  Finding a door that didn’t say occupied took a while. I’d even opened a few to find women sitting in chairs with dancers all over them. That was embarrassing. I ended up standing in front of the last door on the right. There was no sign, so I gathered my nerves and turned the handle. The door squeaked as I opened it, revealing a room lit with purple lights.

  A lone leather couch centered the room, and there were no windows. I stepped into the space—my eyes adjusting to the colored light—and I softly shut the door behind me. At first the room appeared to be empty, but then I felt someone standing at my side, and I knew there was a male dancer there.

  “Chelsey.” My named move through the room in a whispered voice.

  It was a voice I’d never forget. A voice I replayed on my voicemail until I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally threw my phone against a wall shattering it into hundreds of pieces. That was a year ago, but he sounded the same.

  I turned to move toward the door, but he moved to the side blocking it. Anger moved across his expression and I tensed. I was the one who was angry. He had no right to look at me as if I’d kicked his puppy. Especially not when he was the one that kicked me.

  Even with those old memories and scars, I had to admit he looked good. Better than good, he looked delicious, which only fueled my ire toward him. A pair of loose-fitting jeans hung from his hips, allowing me a full view of the sexy V muscles holding them up. He stood with his thick arms crossed over his tattooed and pierced chest, his eyes moving from my head to my toes and back up again.

  “Never thought I’d see a stiff like you in a place like this.” His deep voice moved over my skin, leaving chills in its wake.

  I hated him for the responses he pulled from me.

  “That’s funny. It’s not surprising at all to see you in a place like this. Still using your gift from God to get you through life I see,” I said, letting my eyes move to his crotch so he’d catch my meaning.

  His eyes narrowed before he chuckled dryly and shook his head.

  “Now that I think about it, it makes sense you being here. Paying for penis would be the only way you get any. Dead lays don’t tend to get the shaft. Pun intended.”

  My stomach bottomed out. Hurt mixed with broken pride choked me. Clearing my throat, I turned and blinked away the tears threatening to fill my eyes.

  The memories of all the times I let him touch me or hold me—the many nights he snuck into my room just to sleep beside me—they burned across my brain.

  Lies.

  It was all lies, and hearing him talk down to me only solidified how wrong I’d been about him.

  “Let me out,” I said calmly.

  I didn’t want to break in front of him. I’d die before I let him see me cry, before I showed him even an ounce of emotion other than anger.

  “But I haven’t even danced for you yet.” He moved closer, his eyes consuming my face.

  He looked at me so deeply I was afraid he could hear my thoughts.

  His cologne smelled delicious, and up close his olive skin glowed under the purple fluorescents. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted him to touch me, but wanting and needing were two different things. I didn’t need Blaine the way I did when I was younger. And no matter what I had to do or say, I was going to make sure the want I felt for him would go away.

  “Geez, Blaine. Stop begging.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Don’t worry about the dance. This should cover it.” I opened my fingers and let the bill drift to the floor.

  He looked down at the floor before looking back at me. His eyes flashed with fire before he moved, turning me and pressing me hard against the door that held me in.

  His body molded to mine, his hot breath puffed against my cheek. The heat from his body made my stomach tingle, and his unique smell mixed with sweat made me dizzy with want. I was repulsed by myself. I was disgusted that even after everything he put me through, I could still think about his body and the way I used to crave it.

  “I don’t want your fucking money, and I certainly don’t need it. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of a moment when I ever needed anything from you.” He leaned closer, taking a deep pull of my scent before he shoved the hair beside my face back. “You were convenient, Chelsey. You were someone to spend my time with until someone better came along.”

  His words were like a dagger to my heart. That’s exactly what I thought when he disappeared. I was convenient. I was nothing to him… never had been.

  I gasped, sucking in as much oxygen as I could. Then he stepped away from me. His eyes moved over my face once more before he pushed me to the side, opened the door, and left the room. I jerked when the door slammed behind him.

  I covered my mouth before a tiny cry of pain escaped me. Tears rushed from my eyes and down my cheeks cooling my burning flesh. The pain was too much. The memories and the look of raw hate in his eyes burned my heart leaving my chest on fire.

  Why hadn’t it lessened over the last year?

  Why did he still hurt me so bad?

  I sat and gathered myself before I left the room. I forced a smile when the girls asked how it was, and then I sat in the corner of the limo in a quiet daze on our way back to New York City.

  After I pulled Lynn from the limo and dragged her up the stairs to my apartment, I left her passed out on the couch and went to the bathroom. I needed a hot shower. I wanted to wash away the filth of the night. I needed to cleanse away his hurtful words… words I knew were true.

  For a year, I’d contemplated all the reasons why Blaine would leave me. I always came back to the same answer. He used me. He used my heart and my body, and when he was done with me, he disappeared without even a second thought.

  I was abandoned. I was left in the most fragile state of my life with no o
ne to lean on. He was fine, and I wasn’t. I never would be again. I died that day. The girl I was when I was with him flittered away, and all that was left was a cold shell.

  I went on a mission. I drowned out the world and focused on school in a way I never had before. I quit talking to everyone, and dove head first into each assignment. And every time Blaine would cross my mind, I’d secretly hurt.

  I’d do that again. I’d dive deep into school and my future. I’d move him out of my mind like I did before, and if and when he entered my train of thought again, I’d silently cry alone in my apartment and make it through.

  **********

  THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, I hugged Lynn goodbye. I stood at the window of the airport and watched a plane take her away from me. I never told her about seeing Blaine. I spent the rest of her visit with a big, fake smile plastered on my face.

  Being in New York City alone was hard. I missed Lynn. Part of me even missed my parents, but I knew it was for the best. Lynn had different plans with her life, and after Blaine, my relationship with my parents never returned… not that our relationship had been good beforehand.

  I went to my late class that afternoon, but I barely heard a word the professor said. My mind kept wandering back to Blaine.

  Always Blaine.

  Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

  For a year I’d asked myself that question, but I could never answer it. I’d never admit to how much I cared about him. Not to myself and definitely not out loud. I had to try harder. I needed to keep myself so busy I couldn’t think of anything. It was the way I survived him the first time, and it would work this time, as well.

  28

  BLAINE

  THE MEMORY OF BEING ALONE WITH CHELSEY in the back room replayed in mind. The venomous lies I’d spewed at her burned in my chest like the poison they were. I hated myself for saying those things to her, but I was in pain, and pain made me lash out.

  I dove head first into work and continued to keep myself busy.

  “We done today, boss?” I asked Chris.

  He was only a few years older than me and owned Cutting Edge, the lawn care company I worked for. It was the day job I did to cover up where I really got my money.

  We’d only worked one small job so far, and I was beginning to think maybe we didn’t have any other jobs for the day. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with the rest of the day off, but I couldn’t lie, it sounded great.

  “We got a new account,” he said, looking down at his clipboard and marking something with his pen.

  “Nice. With who?’

  He tossed his clipboard onto the driver’s seat of his truck and took a swig from his soda.

  “A big university on the other side of the city.”

  It was rare that we did commercial work, much less a university on the other side of the city, but it sounded fun.

  I was tired of doing yards. Landscaping for a large university sounded like a great change, and I was excited about the new job for all of the thirty minutes it took for us to drive there. Once I realized the university Chris was talking about was Columbia University the excitement quickly faded.

  We pulled into the parking lot, and I let my eyes move over the large buildings. Students littered the grounds, moving fast for their next class and laughing.

  I’d been there before. I went there when the beginning of the school year started hoping to get a glimpse of her. That’s how pathetic I’d been. I’d told myself I couldn’t forget her until I saw her one more time. Maybe if I talked to her—got some closure on everything that went down—I could at least get a good night’s sleep.

  I waited outside the school all day instead of looking for her. I watched the other students and irrationally hated them for being there with Chelsey when I couldn’t be. And then I hated myself for still wanting to be.

  I gave up looking for her by the afternoon. I knew it was still early in the school year, and there was plenty of time to catch her. I told myself I had better things to do than wait around for her after everything she’d put me through.

  Except I found myself back at the school the next day, and then the next, until an entire week had gone by and I was probably known as the parking lot creeper. On the seventh day, I told myself it was the last time. I was done with all of the Chelsey bullshit.

  But then I saw her.

  She was coming out of one of the buildings with a group of people. Just seeing her face again was almost enough. My eyes devoured her… the way she moved. She was graceful, despite the heavy looking bag weighing on her shoulder.

  I watched her fingers move over her cheek to move her dark hair behind her ear. I caught the movement of her eyes and my gut ached to have those big, doe eyes on me again. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel in a tight grip until the skin around my knuckles burned.

  I pressed my forehead into the steering wheel and demanded that my body take control of itself. I demanded myself to stay seated instead of rushing over to her. I lifted my head, afraid she’d walk away and I’d never see her again.

  She’d come to a stop, and across from her was some preppy fuck who was standing close enough to make me hate him instantly. When he pushed the hair behind her ear, I nearly tore the door off my car to get out.

  I stopped two feet from the car, my body tense and ready to strike. My hands balled into fists at my side as I watched Chelsey laugh and heat fill her cheeks. It reminded me of the last time I’d saw her, and I felt the betrayal all over again.

  It ripped through my body, nearly crippling me. I sagged against the side of my car and clutched at my hair. The pain made me want to claw at my chest and pull out my heart so I didn’t have to feel again.

  I blinked, coming back to myself and getting angry for reliving the memories all over again. Sweat coated the back of my neck and palms, and I rubbed my hands on my pants to dry them. I just wanted to get this job over with and get the hell out of there. Later, I’d talk to Chris about getting one of the other guys to take over the Columbia job so I didn’t have to ever come back.

  There were a lot of people at the school, and I knew in the back of my mind the chances of running into Chelsey again were slim to none, but still, I couldn’t help but swallow hard and worry that I would.

  We unloaded and began work.

  An hour later, I stopped thinking about the possibility of running into Chelsey. I was trimming a set of bushes outside one of the buildings and shaping them when I heard her familiar voice. I looked up to see her stepping out of the building with a man wearing a suit. A professor, no doubt.

  She smiled at him and I felt it in my gut. I openly listened as they discussed an assignment, and when they were finished talking, the professor went in one direction and Chelsey went in another. It just happened to be in my direction.

  The minute she turned, her eyes landed on me and her face paled. Quickly, she averted her attention and began to walk by as if she didn’t see me.

  I couldn’t stand being ignored by her. I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me, but more than anything, I wanted her eyes on me. I felt alive when she looked at me. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Not since our last night together.

  “Well, if it isn’t Miss Ivy League,” I said sarcastically.

  Her dark eyes moved over my face and she stopped, her body turning toward me.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Magic Mike,” she countered.

  I couldn’t remember her being so quick to the punch before. Obviously, things had changed. She’d changed. But then again, I never really knew her to know if she’d changed or not.

  I chuckled at her comment, which only pissed her off more. It was best not to let her know her words bothered me.

  “I see you got what you wanted, as usual,” I said.

  Her brows pulled down in confusion. “And what would that be?” she asked.

  I motioned to the buildings around me. “You wanted Columbia University and you got it.”

  The darkness on her
face cleared, and a slight smile pulled at her lips. I could remember a time when I longed for her smiles. Just thinking about the past sent a quick bolt of anger through me and hateful words sprang from my lips before I could stop them.

  “Do I even want to know how much cock you sucked to get accepted?”

  I wanted to pull the words back as soon as I let them out, but they were already out there. I knew how she’d gotten accepted. Hell, I was there the day she got the acceptance letter. Chelsey was smart, smart enough for anyone in Columbia, but again, a hurt dog bit, and I was still hurting a year later.

  Her face dropped and the sweet smile she was about to wear dropped with it.

  She shook her head before turning and walking away.

  Again, she turned her back on me. And even though I knew I was the one who pushed her away this time, I couldn’t help but remember a time when I needed her more than anything and she wasn’t there for me.

  I finished working, and Chris dropped me off at home. I hated it, but we’d be working the grounds of the school over the next few weeks. The place was huge and required a ton of work. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the possibility of seeing Chelsey again. One minute there was excitement—the next anger—then somewhere along the line I’d feel the hurt I’d been feeling over the last year.

  She still had a strange pull over me, and I fucking hated it.

  **********

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, my grandma had to be put in the hospital. Her diabetes was getting worse, and her blood sugar was so high she had a seizure.

  Thankfully, our neighbor, Deborah, agreed to watch Maddie until I got home from work. Of course, I wasn’t able to leave her home alone at night, so I missed a few nights at the club. The bills would definitely feel the effects of that.

  Grandma came home four days later, and the bill for her stay came two days after that. I was drowning, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t depend on Grandma to keep up with Maddie. She was only four, which meant she needed to be watch at all times.