Funny way of showing it, if you ask me.
“But?”
There’s always a but, ladies and gentlemen.
“It was getting to the point where we were inseparable. He was putting a lot of pressure on me to take the next step. He’s a great guy. I don’t know why I wanted out so bad. But it’s difficult to find a place in Redemption that I can afford. Then there was all this pressure at work, and my position was getting scrutinized.”
“Green.”
“Right. Anyway, we haven’t slept together since I broke it off, but I know he wants me back. I think he might be manipulating some of the apartment building board members around town into purposefully not giving me an apartment.”
Possible.
He is an accountant. Manipulator of money.
Dick.
One thing at a time, Stiles.
“Okay. First things first. We need to find you a place.”
“But I just told you─”
“Not a problem. I know a guy.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. But I’m getting you the fuck out of that apartment whether dipshit likes it or not.”
I might just clock him upside his smug fucking face, when I go to give him the good news, for good measure.
Green fidgets and I can see her chewing on the inside of her mouth.
“What?”
“What what?” She genuinely thinks I don’t see it. Does she not know me better than that by now?
“Spill it, Green.”
She takes a breath in and lets it out, steadying herself for this next part of the conversation.
“Anonymous, whoever it is, was supposed to be friends with my dad, Stiles. When he wired me that money, I assumed it was a gift but-”
“Jesus.”
“He’s been threatening me lately. Saying it would be a shame if something happened to my dad if I didn’t…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I fucking get it. As big a dill-hole as my father is, if someone threatened his life, I’d play along. At least, until I could track a motherfucker down and splice his ass open with the six-inch hunting knife I keep for emergencies.
Know what I mean?
“I’ve been paying him back in increments,” she insists. But we both know, at this point, the payback isn’t the goal.
“So you’re basically on his fucking payroll until death do you part.”
She shrugs. “I guess, technically? I don’t know any more, Stiles. I have no idea what to do here. I don’t know what his plans are for you, or what you have to do with anything that he deals with. I checked you out. You don’t do anything illegal. Not really anyway.”
“You checked me out?”
Of course, she checked me out. “Well, ya got something fucking right at least.”
Green’s face falls. That was a low blow, I know, but damn, I’m pissed the fuck off right now.
This guy is the real deal. Sucks you in, gets you comfortable, and before you know it, you owe him a favor. Or ten. People like this, it’s their way of bribing someone without that person actually realizing their being bribed.
In other words—blood money.
Once they’ve got you, they’ve pretty much got you.
My point is…
Hold up.
Something just clicked with my brain.
“Did you say your job was paying really well??” She doesn’t exactly misuse grammar, this one.
“Yeah.”
“Meaning?”
I’m thinking it could be anything from them firing her because they found out what she was up to, to her getting a promotion because what she’s up to could help them, a million ways to conspiracy.
“I quit.”
But I was definitely not thinking that.
“Why?”
“I’ve said it a hundred times, Stiles. I didn’t know you then. Now that I do, and I’m seeing what happened to Donnie as more than just another criminal getting what he deserved, I want to do more than just report on gossip.” She pauses. “I need to. And if I can’t do it for The Chronicle, then I’ll find another way.”
Green impresses me. More so than anyone else I’ve met in Redemption. The fact that she’s willing to leave and cut ties with this asshole, or at least try to, says a lot more about her than what originally meets the eye.
“You surprise me, Green.”
“Well, there was one other thing that influenced me in the decision to leave.”
She’s blushing, and I want to know why.
“What’s that?”
“This.” She motions between us, and the entire mood of the evening changes for me. Just like that. I’ve gone from angry and about to give her a piece of my mind to take with her on her way out the door, to… I don’t know exactly how to describe it.
Hopeful?
“And what exactly is this?” I mimic her gesture between the two of us. Even though I don’t know what the fuck to call it at this particular point in time, I know there’s something.
I felt it.
She felt it.
I know she fucking felt it.
“This is real, Jackson.”
My blood stops, mid-motion, inside me. She’s not fooling me one bit, though. I know she pulled my first name out like that on purpose.
Element of surprise, ladies and gentlemen. Works every time.
I’m fighting the walls I’ve worked pretty damn hard to put up with her.
“Am I supposed to believe you?” I don’t want to. I want the wall to stay intact, quite honestly. I like it that way. Everything is very black and white with the wall up.
With every look she gives me, every touch of her hand on mine, she chips away at that shit.
“You know all my tells.” She makes it difficult. Her eyes don’t stray away from mine. She’s either playing it cool or she’s got nothing to hide now. The fidgeting is gone, and all her fucking hair is in her face.
“Maybe I need more than tells. Hell, maybe what I need is…” I don’t know if saying it out loud is smart or not. Jesus, I don’t even know if I know how to say this shit out loud.
“What, Jackson?” This time, my name is a whisper. The word is barely audible. But the way my name leaves her lips this time, I don’t know. She knows what I fucking need.
She’s always known.
It’s officially “shit or get off the pot” time.
So I take a step toward her and swallow down the goddamn walls.
“You.”
Damn. You’d think I’d choke on the words, but with her, it’s like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to say them. And fuck me, it’s out there. Nothing to do but wait for a sign. I mean, hell, either she’s into this or she’s not. Right?
“I want you, too.” She says it like she’s been waiting, too. Like it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world to say.
That’s my fucking sign.
“You sure this time, Green?”
I step closer to her. She nods as she gets up to take a step backward. A complete and fucking contradiction to what she’s saying.
“’Cause I don’t wanna hear any of this professionalism bullshit halfway to hard.”
I was more than halfway last time. Let’s not pussyfoot around that fuckery.
“I’m sure,” she breathes out.
I open up a few buttons on my shirt as I take another few steps in her direction. Anticipation hasn’t always been my strong suit. “Why are you fucking backing away from me then?”
Maybe she’s playing me.
Maybe she’s hasn’t worked her way through this particular fucking scenario, and it’s throwing her off her game.
She shakes her head as she backs up again. “I’m not backing away from you.”
Maybe I don’t give a fuck either way.
“Then what do you call it?”
She’s at the hallway now. She turns her head slightly, then smiles when she meets my eyes again. “Leading.”
Wh
en her back hits the wall, I close the gap between us.
She seems nervous but in a good way.
We’re close. I can smell her shampoo of the day. I can’t say I know the scent off the top of my fucking head or anything, but it’s inviting. It’s making me wanna do things to her I haven’t done in a long damn time.
“You teasing me, Green?”
A slight shake of her head is all she gives me.
I slide a hand around the base of her neck.
“You?” Like she’s really gotta ask me.
“No such luck,” I tell her. “And Connor?”
“What about him?”
“You sure there isn’t some lingering doubt about cutting the poor guy loose?”
She doesn’t hesitate when she tells me, “Definitely not.”
“You aren’t gonna change your mind about that?” It’s been known to happen.
Green looks me straight in the eyes when she shakes her head. “Nope.”
I’m not an idiot, despite what a lot of people think. I know I’m gambling here. Typically, I like better odds, but quite frankly, I’m fucking tired of second guessing this woman.
At some point, I’ve gotta go with my gut.
And my gut tells me it’s time to let shit happen.
So with that, all the adrenaline, anger, and confusion from tonight is gone. Instead of entertaining the idea that this is a bad idea, I forgo the formalities and dip into a kiss that says I believe her.
We’ve kissed. It’s not like it’s rocket science or anything, but this isn’t curiosity or me being “interested” because she’s new and a mystery or a damn she’s sexy kinda thing.
It’s all or nothing. Everything’s out there. No hidden agendas or conspiracy theories. No Walker lurking, or Anonymous. No boy-toys or family bullshit. This is up close and personal with all the suspicions and questions and pent-up frustration coming through in one fell swoop.
She arches, pressing herself up against me in just the right way. It throws my libido into overdrive.
My fingers drift from her neck to her shirt, and I do her the honors of unbuttoning the damn thing. She lets it fall to the floor when I push the sleeves over her shoulders, and when she moves to work on my jeans, I grab her wrists.
I smile as I press her hands against the wall. I slide them up above her head. I clasp them together, pinning them there with my right hand, while the left drinks in her skin.
“Last chance,” I warn her, but she doesn’t squirm an inch.
“I’m good.”
I might smirk. I’m not sure, to be honest. Then a thought hits me that Nick’s been driving into my head since I hit puberty.
“We gonna need a condom?”
“No.” She bites the corner of her lip. “I’m good there, too.”
“Birth control?” I try to clarify.
“IUD,” she corrects me, and I lift an eyebrow.
“I had a boyfriend.”
Had being the operative word there.
“Indeed.”
Goosebumps trail every kiss I place against her shoulder.
I’m becoming a huge fan of the fact that I have this effect on her, along with the blushing—not gonna lie. The blushing is fucking phenomenal.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Green,” I tell her in between kisses along her neckline.
“What?” She tilts her head to the side for me. I find her ear and put my lips there.
“I’m still pissed at you,” I whisper it into her ear while I find the snap to her jeans.
She takes in a deep breath.
“Why?” She seems unconcerned.
I unzip them, and I whisper into her ear, “You lied to me.”
I have to release her hands to work them around her hips.
She helps.
“Not lied,” she says. “So much as…” Her voice is shaky. Just the way I like it. “Left a few things out of our conversations.”
I manage to work the jeans and the silk fucking underwear down to her ankles. She kicks them off the rest of the way.
Thank God, she’s cooperating.
“Do me a fucking favor,” I tell her. My hand grazes her stomach before I reach behind her and unclip the bra.
Last to go.
She starts on my jeans again, and she’s fast about that shit.
“What’s that?”
She starts to work on getting them off me, but I take over, and once they’re gone, so’s the shirt.
“Don’t leave anything out any more.”
Green allows herself to look down in a moment of weakness. When her eyes meet mine again, she gives me a short nod with a slight grin.
“Promise.”
It’s all I need to fucking hear.
I nudge her legs apart, and she obliges.
I follow some deep-seated instincts—maybe dreams—by sliding a hand down between them.
I lean my head against hers. “Fuck.” She’s wet. She lets out this whimper that almost pushes me to come right here and now.
That’s not gonna fly. So I put a nix on what I was planning and glide my hands around her waist, lifting her up. Not a complaint is heard when she wraps her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck.
Let’s be fucking honest for just a second here. I don’t have to work at getting hard at this point. I’ve been hard since she walked in the door.
Our lips meet as I thrust into her, and everything, fucking everything between us comes crashing down on me.
“Jesus,” she moans.
I assure her, “He’s got nothing to do with this, Green.” When I push again, she buries her head into my neck and holds tight.
With every drive, she lets out a whimper, and I make every effort to drown it out with my own thoughts because that shit’s about to turn yours truly into a sixty-second man.
Not acceptable.
Baseball stats usually help, but thoughts of Green’s skin against my skin keep fucking that shit up.
All I see is her. All I think is her. All I am right now is her.
Shit just got real.
I don’t know if that’s a good thing, and I don’t really fucking care. I want to make this woman understand the torment she’s been putting me through since the day we first met.
When she tightens, her whimpers change, and she’s breathing in short, urgent breaths, I know she’s there.
“Emma.” I don’t know if it’s a demand or a plea bargain at this point, the way I say her name like that. I hadn’t expected it. It just fucking happened.
Like inhaling and exhaling.
Her nails dig into my shoulder. She pushes herself against the wall, and I follow her lead, thrusting, pushing, and driving until she spills onto me, and I’m fucking bursting at the seams.
“Jesus.” It comes out like I’m desperate.
Hell, maybe I am.
In the midst of this moment, she lets out a small laugh.
“He’s got nothing to do with this, Stiles.”
“A-fucking-men to that.”
She laughs out in a full-blown, I’ve never heard her so happy, kinda laugh. I can’t help but join her.
We stay there for a minute against that fucking wall, catching our breath. When I finally let her down, her knees buckle, and I catch her.
“You all right there, Green? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Her eyes are closed. She licks her lips and shakes her head.
“So good.”
We both use the wall as a crutch and slide down to sit on the floor next to each other. I let my head fall back until I can breathe normally again.
Green leans into me, and I put an arm around her. Her fingers trace up and down my midsection, and she twists her head around to take a better look at the ink just above.
When she nuzzles back into me, I feel the rise and fall of her breathing. Contentedness oozes out of the two of us, and I’m not complaining one single fucking bit.
“You know, there are theories out there.” I ass
ume she’s referring to the corruption that’s been invading Redemption since the dawn of time.
“Yeah?” I close my eyes and enjoy the bliss between us. “Do tell, Green.”
“Some people believe the Joker is the hero.”
My heart stops, momentarily, when she says it. I’ve never really discussed Mikey with her in depth. There’s no reason for her to go there, but Green’s a smart cookie. She knows how to put two and two together. Or rather the drawing on my wall and the tattoo on my chest.
“He was such a good kid.” The words fall out of me before I can stop them. The pain in my gut regrets it, but honestly, it’s easy giving Green a piece of me like this.
“What happened?”
She’s not interrogating me like my parents did that night. She isn’t demanding I flush my feelings for the sake of a certificate like Lana does. She genuinely gives a shit.
“I know this is gonna be hard to believe, Green, but I haven’t always had the healthy, healing relationship with my dad like I do today.”
She lets out a silent giggle and vibrates against me.
It helps. A little. But I can still hear my dad’s voice the night I told him I was quitting the academy. It’s angry and cold.
“You’re going back in there tomorrow, and you’re apologizing to Walker. Then you’re gonna suck it up and finish the academy.”
Dad didn’t give a shit what any of us wanted. He’d put up with me because I was giving it a go, because of Nick. But I refused to take his bullshit any more. Even if it meant being on the receiving end of his wrath for the rest of my life.
“Stiles?” Green looks up at me, worried.
I shake it off.
“Long story short, I was a dick to the one person in my family who didn’t deserve it, and he died because of it.”
I remember everything about that night like it happened yesterday.
“I’m not in the mood, Mikey.”
“I’m not letting you wander around by yourself so mad.”
I walked probably two miles that night. It was fucking cold as shit out, too. Mikey shivered like crazy because he’d forgotten his jacket like an idiot. We ended up at the high school, of all places. There was a game going on that night. It was coming to an end.
When I finally stopped walking, I just assumed Mikey had given up and gone home. Until I felt his hand on my shoulder. For some reason, it threw me into a rage. I’d had enough of everything. So I took all my frustrations with Dad, the academy, and life out on him.
Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption Page 24
