by Mia Ford
I sank down to the floor and started to sob as Jackson walked away. Even though I screamed after him to turn around and come back, he didn’t listen. Instead, security guards came and grabbed me before unceremoniously throwing me out onto the street. It had begun to snow outside, but I didn’t even feel cold. All I felt was hatred and anger towards the man who should have been one of my closest relatives.
Jackson Rhodes, my stepbrother, was now officially my enemy.
I knew I couldn’t hang around First Perfect all day waiting to see Jackson again. The guards who tossed me out made it very clear that I wouldn’t be allowed back inside under any circumstances. Finally, I decided to take a cab back to the bed and breakfast. I couldn’t face the idea of talking to Mom yet, and I knew I’d have to come up with the perfect phrasing so she wouldn’t be upset with me.
But it is my fault, I thought dejectedly as the cab carried me through the slushy streets. If I hadn’t been such a bitch, maybe Jackson would’ve listened to me. But, oh, I wasn’t that bad. He never wanted to listen in the first place! If I hadn’t bumped into him in the lobby, I probably would’ve gone the whole trip without seeing him at all!
All I could was curl up and cry. I wound up falling asleep, gripping my legs to my chest with my shoes still on.
Hours later, the sound of the phone ringing woke up. My heart sank as I realized where I was. It’s probably Mom, I thought sadly. And now I’m going to have to tell her the truth.
Warily, I grabbed the receiver and held it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Belle?”
I frowned. “Who is this?”
There was a laugh. “It’s Jackson,” the voice said “Don’t you recognize my voice? I am your stepbrother after all. Didn’t you say something earlier about family?”
I groaned. “What do you want?”
“Hey,” Jackson said, sounding wounded. “That’s a nice way to say hello.”
I sighed. “Well, you did laugh in my face and tell me that I wasn’t really family,” I said grudgingly. “What the hell do you want?”
“I want you to meet me for lunch tomorrow.”
My senses tingled with alarm. “Why?”
Jackson chuckled again – the sound of his laughter was enough to make my blood boil.
“You’ll find out,” he said patiently, like he was talking to a small child.
“When?”
“Tomorrow,” Jackson said. “At Le Bateau Ivrea. I doubt you’ve heard of it, but it’s in Manhattan. Shall I send a driver to pick you up?”
My heart was thudding in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to refuse him, to tell him that I’d been through enough already and I didn’t need this asshole toying with my emotions.
But just as I was about to say the words, Mom’s sad face popped into my mind. I knew I couldn’t do it – I knew I had do go through whatever Jackson wanted. If there was even a slim chance of Jackson offering Mom money, I knew I had to do it.
“I can get there on my own,” I said warily. “What time?”
Jackson chuckled. “You’ve always been so independent, Belle. I’ve always liked that about you.”
We agreed to meet at twelve-thirty the next day and then Jackson hung up. When the dial tone started buzzing in my ear, I reluctantly pulled the phone away and set it back in the cradle. My stomach was doing nervous flips and flops – I couldn’t believe that Jackson had changed gears so quickly. What the hell was this about? I had a horrible vision – me, walking into some classy bistro, with a bloodstain on the back of my pants.
I cringed. It’s always going to be just like high school, I thought with a shiver as I lay back down in bed. And I’m always going to be weak around Jackson, just like always.
--
The next day, I dressed in the classiest outfit that I’d brought with me – a simple black dress and flat sandals – and took a cab into Manhattan. The drive was just long enough for me to start worrying about running out of money before I even left the city. I’d looked up Le Bateau Ivre online and felt concern – what if Jackson refused to pay for me? What was I going to do? The prices were so high that I knew my savings would be gone in no time.
To my shock, Jackson was there when I arrived. He was wearing a grey suit that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. As I walked closer, he stood up from his seat at the bar and smiled coldly.
“Hi, Belle,” Jackson said. He slid his eyes down my body and my cheeks flushed red as his gaze lingered at my bust. “Glad you could make it.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t really have a choice,” I said stiffly.
Jackson chuckled. “Come now, of course you did,” he replied in a light tone. “What do you think is going to happen, Belle? Why are you so afraid of me?”
I bit my tongue. Because you’ve made every effort to ruin my life and ignore me, I thought tartly. But before I could speak, a waiter showed Jackson and me to our table. When I was left alone with him, I sat up as straight as I could and reached for the menu.
The prices were enough to make me gasp. I realized that even if I ordered the most frugal thing possible, I’d still be walking out of Le Bateau Ivre a good sixty dollars lighter than I’d walked in.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson leaned over the table and pulled the menu out of my hands. “Something the matter, Belle?”
I blushed. “This place is…. expensive,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure I can afford to eat here.”
Jackson snickered. “You’re not paying,” he said. “Don’t worry, Belle. Everything’s fine.”
I stared at him. “I don’t believe you.”
Jackson made wide eyes. “What, you think I’m kind of guy who lies?” He cocked his head to the side. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“That time you tricked me into showing a roomful of strangers that I’d gotten my period,” I hissed. “How about then?”
“God, Belle, that was years ago,” Jackson said mildly. He smirked, making me blush. “You really think I haven’t changed at all since that happened?”
I blinked. “I don’t know what to think,” I said softly. “I don’t know you.”
Jackson cleared his throat. The waiter approached the table and before I could stop him, Jackson had ordered two tasting course meals for both of us. I couldn’t help but gasp – I’d seen the price of those, and I knew they didn’t come cheaply.
“So,” Jackson said. He lifted his mimosa and clinked the glass against mine, where it rested on the table. “Why did you come looking for me at work?”
I bit my lip. “You know why,” I said steadily. My stomach was churning but I forced myself to take a sip of the mimosa anyway. The orange juice and champagne was a delicious combination in my mouth, but I knew that I couldn’t keep drinking – my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Jackson chuckled. “Because of my dad’s will,” he said calmly. “That’s why, right?”
I nodded and sighed. “I don’t know why he didn’t leave anything to my mother, but please. Jackson, you’re her only hope.” I forced myself to look into his steel-grey eyes. They were so beautiful, so cold – I could feel myself getting lost in them with every second that passed.
Jackson shrugged. “My father’s wishes should be respected,” he said. “I don’t know why he did that, either, but don’t you think we should honor what he wanted?”
“No,” I said softly. “No, I don’t think that way at all. Jackson, my mother is alone. And she’s going to be homeless and broke unless you help. Please, she doesn’t need much. Just enough to get a small apartment and live for a while until she’s able to find a job.”
Jackson shrugged again. “I don’t know that I can do that,” he said. “After all, that money is marked for me. It would be a lot of legal trouble if I decided to argue my father’s will, especially that it’s in my favor like this.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I felt my stomach plummet once more. “Don’t you agree, Belle?”
“I don’t,” I said softly.
Jackson smiled. “Well, I’m sure Anne doesn’t like the idea of working, but she should be able to get a job. She worked before she married my father, right?”
“Your father was the one who made her quit,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “She would have kept working the whole time, but he said it looked unseemly!”
Jackson frowned. “I don’t know why he would have said that,” he said. “My father has always respected drive and hard work in others. I doubt he said that,” he added, in a calm tone of voice that made me seethe with anger. “You’re probably misremembering.”
I knew that I had to stay calm, but this was too much. I couldn’t just sit here, across the table from Jackson, and listen to him berate my mother and call her lazy.
“I mean, really, Belle,” Jackson continued. “You’re going to have to be a little more self-aware now that you’re what, twenty?” He smirked at me. “These are things we all have to learn,” he added in a smug voice. “So don’t get upset with me for telling you the truth about your mother.”
Every ounce of calm that I’d managed to summon in the past thirty seconds flew out of my body. Standing up, I pushed the chair back from the table so forcefully that it felt open and clattered against the floor with a loud bang. Jackson looked up in surprise. I wanted to slap him again, but that’s when my eye caught my mimosa flute. Grabbing it, I threw it in his face.
“I hate you,” I snarled loudly. “I never want to see you again!”
The look of surprise was just beginning to register on Jackson’s face as I turned on my heel and ran out of Le Bateau Ivre. Tears blinded my vision and I stumbled, almost falling as I ran. When I pushed open the bistro doors and ran into the street, the cold shocked me. For a moment, I stopped, gasping for breath. Then my instincts kicked in and I started running down the street as quickly as I could.
“Hey!” I screamed towards a cab that was parked on the corner. “Hey!”
The cab pulled away before I could reach it and I groaned in frustration. There was a stitch in my side and my breath was coming in white clouds but I knew that I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t risk Jackson chasing me out into the street. I just wanted to go home to Alfred and forget that all of this had ever happened – I wanted to imagine that life was back to normal, that Mom was okay, that I’d never have to deal with this shit again.
I broke into a run again, rounding the corner and speeding down the block.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Some lady screamed as I almost ran into her kids.
“Slow down!”
“What the fuck, girl? Where you goin’?”
The accusations from New York strangers were enough to make the tears fall faster than ever. I was choking on my snot by the time I reached the stoplight. In a blind panic, I whipped my head around to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. Thankfully, all I could see was a large crowd of people bubbling around the corners and intersections.
Gotta love New York, I thought. All these people make it a really private city, after all.
When the light changed to red, I bolted across the street. The stitch in my side ached and I longed to throw myself down on the pavement and moan in pain. I knew that I had to keep going however, and I lowered my head against the icy wind. My nose was numb and soaked with snot and I wiped frantically at my face with the back of my hand.
Stumbling onto the next block, I kept running blindly. I took a deep breath and sprinted as fast as I could, keeping my eyes down so the wind wouldn’t burn any more than it already was.
“Aurgh!” I cried out loudly as my body slammed right into someone else. “Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry!”
I straightened up and looked in front of me, prepared to apologize as quickly as I could and then get the hell out of there. There has to be a cab around here somewhere, I thought. I just have to keep going, just a little bit longer.
Standing in front of me was Jackson Rhodes.
“Belle,” Jackson said. “Why did you leave?” He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Even though the temperate of the day had to be somewhere in the mid-teens, I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a jacket.
It’s because he has no heart. He can never be cold, I thought as I glared at him, rubbing my arms with my bare hands. I was freezing.
“You insulted me, my mother, and our whole family,” I spat. “I hate you, Jackson. You made me think you were going to help me! You made me think— “
Jackson grabbed me roughly and pulled me towards him. I wanted to resist but I was powerless in his strong hands. As Jackson crushed me against his muscular body, he bent down and kissed me.
When his lips met my own, I swooned. Jackson’s mouth was soft and pliant, and he tasted like champagne. As his tongue slipped between my lips, my legs felt rubbery and weak. I could feel my knees shaking as Jackson slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer, hauling my breasts against his torso. The thin fabric of my black dress was enough to let me feel his muscular body, and I shuddered as Jackson slipped his hands down my back and gently squeezed my ass. A delicious racing sensation coursed through my body and I moaned softly into his mouth as Jackson nibbled at my lower lip. I’d never been kissed before, and this was enough to make me forget everything. I couldn’t even remember my name.
Jackson slowly pulled away. His lips were glistening with saliva and there was a roguish look in his sexy grey eyes.
“We weren’t finished yet,” Jackson repeated in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine.
Then I remembered: I’m supposed to hate him.
“I hate you,” I murmured softly. But my blood was still racing through my body, my heart was still pounding, and maddeningly enough, my pussy was tingling with excitement and arousal inside my damp panties. I wanted Jackson to take me in his arms again, to kiss me, to thrill me with his touch.
Jackson smirked. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he said softly.
My heart was pounding in my chest.
“I can help you, Belle,” Jackson said. He stepped closer and looked down into my eyes. I shivered again. “I can give you what you want.”
I shivered. There was something about the way he was staring at me that was making me deeply, deeply uncomfortable.
“What is it?”
“I can help you,” Jackson repeated. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down at my body once again. When I shivered this time, it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.
“How?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
Jackson leaned close to my ear. “I’ll give Anne three million dollars, and a monthly allowance.”
I stared at him. “Jackson, that’s more than I’m asking for,” I said slowly. “Why are you going to give her so much money?”
Jackson’s lips curled into a smile. “Because you’re going to give me your virginity.”
I gaped at him. My mouth was hanging open for so long I felt the delicate tissue lining my tongue start to dry out from the cold air.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
I closed my lips and swallowed hard. My throat felt tight and dry, and for a terrible moment, I was afraid I was going to throw up the half mimosa I’d drank back at Le Bateau Ivre.
“I can’t date you,” I hissed after a prolonged pause. “I’m your stepsister!”
Jackson threw his head back and laughed. I saw the sun glinting off his perfect white teeth.
“I don’t want to date you,” Jackson said, shaking his head. He was still chuckling. I felt my hands ball themselves into fists. “Of course I don’t want to date you, Belle. I just want to fuck you,” he added.
I glared at him. “I hate you.”
Jackson smirked. “That’s not what I thought a few minutes ago.” He tapped his chin with his finger and looked thoughtful. “You were moaning in my arms,” he said. “That didn’t exactly seem like the reaction of someone who hates me as much as you claim to.”
The sound of the slap across Ja
ckson’s face echoed off the alley walls as I turned on my heel and ran away. This time, he didn’t try chasing me. The only sound I heard was the ringing sound of his laughter, bubbling around me.
It wasn’t like his cruel laughter before. It was a different kind of laughter, an amused kind of laughter.
As I climbed into the backseat of a cab and gave the driver my address, I slunk down in the back seat and vowed to never speak to Jackson Rhodes ever again.
When I got back to school the next day, I didn’t know what to do. I hated the idea of giving my cherry to Jackson, the man who’d made my life hell for as long as I could remember. Sure, he’d been a good kisser….in fact, thinking about the way he’d kissed me sent shivers of desire between my legs. But I knew I couldn’t go through with it. It was just like prostitution, except worse. And what would it get me?
It would let you help your mother, a little voice sang in the back of my head. And that’s what you really need to do, isn’t it?
