Identical Disaster (The Sterling Shore Series Book 8)

by C. M. Owens

  “That jackass’s,” Dad says, reminding me we’re having a conversation.

  I freeze in place, but Bora snorts and rolls her eyes, which lets me know my father is embellishing the story. I don’t see Dad being able to take Jax, but I could be wrong.

  “Thanks,” I tell him, because I know he’s trying to make me feel better—in his own weird way.

  It’s barely even a distraction though, because there’s so much going on here.

  Amani is posted outside my apartment door like he’s part of the Secret Service and I’m the president or something. They act like the homeless man is going to come and find me since he has my purse, my ID, and my address.

  He won’t. He’ll just use all the cash and throw the purse away. If he’s smart, he won’t use the credit cards. He certainly won’t show up here.

  My phone was in my pocket, so at least he didn’t get that.

  “Okay,” Shanna says, walking in. She keeps her voice softer than ever as she continues. “I’ve cancelled all your credit cards and your debit card. They’ll reissue you all new cards, but you’ll have to use cash until they get here. I had my assistant go and fetch some cash from my ATM. Was there anything else in your purse we should be concerned about?”

  I shake my head, feeling more of that guilt well up inside me.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, and her eyes glisten almost immediately, as though she’s been fighting hard not to cry. Then I look at Bora and my Dad. “I’m sorry to both of you, too.”

  “Don’t be,” my mother says gently as she walks in and brings me a blackened cookie you could break a window with.

  Shanna’s lips twitch, and I battle my own smile as I take the cookie and feel the proof. Yep. Lava rock isn’t even this hard.

  “We suck,” Shanna says, sighing as she comes to sit down next to Dad, resting her ass on the arm of the chair.

  “You could have been nicer about telling us we suck,” Bora says, but I can tell she’s joking.

  “It was a bad day,” I mutter under my breath. “A bad week.”

  Suddenly, Ruby is walking into my room, and her face falls when she sees me.

  “Who the fuck did this to you?” she asks, sounding incredibly pissed and ready to fight as she comes over to take the other spot beside me on the bed.

  “A hungry homeless man who panicked and took easy money,” I explain, noticing the way my dad’s jaw grinds.

  He really wants to explode on me for approaching the guy without someone with me, but he doesn’t. Because now he’s scared of losing me again.

  She examines my face, probably taking in the swelling around my cheek, the dark purplish bruises, and the massive split on my lip. It feels worse than it looks.

  “How did you find out? I didn’t want you to have to leave your party.”

  “I called her from your phone,” Mom answers, but I don’t have time to respond because Ruby is already talking.

  “Fuck my party,” she says, acting offended. “It was just Jax and Corbin trying to find a way to get you around Jax again. Corbin isn’t getting laid for a week because of that stunt.”

  Dad’s eyes narrow, and Mom tilts her head. Bora continues to run her fingers through my hair in a soothing motion, and Shanna smiles slowly.

  “That guy is desperate,” Shanna points out.

  “I’m going to go try and make some more cookies. Or maybe brownies this time. I don’t think that’s edible,” Mom says sadly, looking at the paperweight in my hand she’s trying to claim is a cookie.

  I’d eat it just to spare her feelings if I wasn’t worried I’d chip a tooth.

  As she disappears from the room, Dad speaks again.

  “Want to go back to Hawaii? Or maybe the Keys? I’ll wear some of those shorts you sent me instead of a speedo. We can all go and get away for a while.”

  Dad offering to wear shorts is a huge deal.

  “Thanks, but you can’t. I can’t. None of us can. Well, besides Mom. I have too much work, and you have concerts you’re missing.”

  “Fuck the tour,” he says without hesitation.

  My dad saying that is equivalent to the devil putting on ice skates to get around now that hell has frozen over. He’s trying to be selfless. Just like Mom. Just like Bora. Just like Shanna.

  But I don’t need them here. I really am fine now.

  Before I can point that out, we hear something crash outside my apartment, and my dad runs out, along with Bora. Ruby stays on the bed with me, and even grabs the alarm clock from my nightstand like she can wield it as a weapon.

  Because I’m jumpy, I actually tense, waiting for something to happen.

  “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” my father barks as a door slams.

  “One chance to move, Vince. Or I’ll move you myself.”

  Jax’s voice has chills rushing up and down my body, and Ruby slowly lowers the alarm clock while shaking her head at me.

  “I didn’t tell him,” she whispers.

  “Where the fuck is she, Bora?”

  “Who are you?” my mother asks, at the same time Shanna says, “Bedroom.”

  Two seconds later, Jax Marshall is filling up my doorway, and I can almost feel the fury vibrating off him as he stalks toward my bed. He’s wearing dark jeans that hang on his hips just right, and a black T-shirt with his JM gym logo.

  He winces when his gaze rakes over my face, taking in all the damage one good hit did.

  For a skinny, hungry guy, he packed one hell of a punch.

  “What happened?” Jax asks calmly, slowly lowering himself onto the bed and sliding over to where Bora was, getting so close I can feel his body heat.

  My heartbeat pounds in my ears as his scent washes over me, and suddenly I feel encaged and trapped. Panic rises, because I’m not ready to be around him. When he gingerly touches my face, I flinch. Not because it hurts physically, but because it kills me to feel his touch and know it’s over.

  He quickly pulls his hand away, assuming it hurts physically, and I don’t correct him. His jaw tenses and he looks at Ruby.

  “What happened?” he asks again.

  “Don’t make me kick your ass again,” my dad says from the safety of the doorway of my room, making no hasty movements to charge the man on my bed.

  Jax cocks an eyebrow at him, and Dad slinks back just a little. You have no idea how hard it is not to laugh at that, because Vince Jaggons doesn’t back down.

  Jax turns his attention back to Ruby, waiting on her to answer him now that my dad has been hushed. Before she can answer, Bora is shouldering by Dad.

  “Bo sought out a homeless guy and tried to give him money. When she wasn’t looking, he took a cheap shot and left her ass in the gutter where she passed out. He also stole her purse.”

  It’s like she’s tattling on me.

  Jax’s jaw clenches, and more anger simmers in his eyes as his gaze comes back to me.

  “Why the fucking hell would you do something like that alone?” he asks in a deceptively calm tone.

  Knowing that he cares is not doing nice things to my already destroyed heart fragments. It’s not enough to close the wounds he slashed open, but it’s too much to bear right now.

  “He was hungry, dirty, and alone,” I tell him weakly, trying to refrain from asking him to hold me.

  It’d be sweet torture to have his arms around me right now, and I could get lost in him after the hellacious time I’ve had since he shattered me. I never thought of myself as fragile until Jax Marshall.

  “You shouldn’t have fucking tried to help him alone, Bo. Damn it!” he growls.

  Everyone in the room tenses when he raises his voice, but for once, I deserve the pissed scolding. Even I admit it was a stupid move. Jax is just the only one with the balls to do it right now.

  It makes me all the more tempted to curl into his arms, especially when he reaches over and caresses the side of my face that isn’t bruised. This time when I flinch, he doesn’t pull back, but a knowing look cross
es his eyes.

  “Can you guys give us a minute?” I ask, turning to look at everyone who is watching us like they’re waiting on something epic to happen.

  Dad clears his throat while backing away, and everyone else filters out. Ruby shuts the door behind her, and I turn back to face Jax.

  He slides in closer, slipping a hand onto my hip, but I grab that hand and push it away, ignoring the searing heat it leaves behind. He grimaces, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me again.

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper softly.

  Even in a whisper my voice sounds broken.

  “Damn it, Bo. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m only human, and—”

  “I know,” I interrupt, smiling sadly up at him. “We all make mistakes. I forgive you.”

  Confusion mars his beautiful face, and my heart clenches in my chest.

  “I don’t understand,” he says, looking every bit as tired as I feel.

  “I forgive you, but I can’t be with you.”

  He starts to speak, but I cut him off.

  “Yeah, I finally snapped. I got sick of everyone forgetting I had feelings too. You aided in that, but I’m over it. The problem is, they’re my family. They can be selfish and immature and themselves around me, and they eventually will be again. The difference between them and you is that I don’t want to be that person with you… The person who rolls with the punches and just keeps giving.”

  His face falls, and I fight really damn hard not to cry.

  “I thought… I thought it could be different. I thought you would care about me the way I care about you. I thought… It doesn’t matter. I realize now I gave you too much power, and I can’t do that again, Jax. Unfortunately, with you, I can’t help but do it. And I can’t handle the idea of being crushed again when you forget who I am and remember the girl who came to you by a lie. We had a very messed-up beginning, but I can’t walk around knowing you hold it against me, secretly harboring resentment that you can use any time you feel like slicing me in two.”

  He clears his throat while shaking his head. “I don’t, Bo. I was pissed that day and I think I kept waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me. It was stupid, and I reacted irrationally. I don’t fucking care how we began, but I sure as hell care about the way we end. I don’t want it to end. Definitely not like this.”

  Words and actions are two different things. My initial deception was his go-to punch when he needed a knockout. He can say he’s over it, but he’s just like me, saying something to placate someone else. The truth is lingering close enough to the surface to erupt at a moment’s notice.

  If he loved me…

  No. I’m not going to start that.

  I can’t be broken again, because I’m not like Ruby. I don’t ever want to feel this miserable ever again, and all I want is for the pain to ease so I can move on with my life.

  No wonder my mother never fell for another man. It hurts too much to have your heart broken. What masochist would ever go through this more than once?

  “You should go,” I say when he doesn’t act like he plans to leave.

  His entire body sags with defeat, and I see the crestfallen look in his eyes that almost has me immediately changing my mind. Instead of caving, I do something I’ll probably regret, because it almost seems cruel to do now.

  Reaching over, I open the drawer to my nightstand, and I pull out the small keychain that arrived a few days too late. Hesitating for a second, I finally turn around and hand it to him.

  He holds his hand out, and since I’m a baby who can’t endure his touch without longing for more, I drop it in his hand to avoid grazing him on accident.

  “I can’t have this here since I bought it for you. It can go in one of your shoeboxes or in the trash, but I wanted you to have a memento from our Hawaiian trip, since I never saw you buy a keychain there. I realize it’s not a monumental point in your life, but you said you collected them in general. It’s actually from the town we were closest to, and I had it engraved. Jane mailed it to me.”

  He studies the custom, silver-plated palm tree that has Paradise Found engraved across it. It seemed perfect at the time. I don’t mention that I actually had it cut out and made just for him. It might be too revealing.

  “Thanks,” he says hoarsely, and my eyes water as he stands up and clutches the keychain in his hand.

  “Maybe one day we can move forward and be friends,” I tell him, grimacing when I hear how ridiculous that sounds aloud.

  “Yeah,” he says, not looking at me. “Maybe.”

  He walks out without saying another word, never glancing back, and I release the tears I’ve been holding back. I shouldn’t have given it to him. It hurt him. I sure as hell didn’t mean to hurt him. In the end, this is more about me than him, but Jax is the string that can unravel me with a simple tug. He’s my strongest weakness, and I’m not as tough as I thought I was.

  When I hear the gentle thud of my front door shutting, I slowly climb out of bed to shut my bedroom door. I want to be alone right now.

  But I pause when I look into the living room and see Mom holding an icepack to Amani’s head, while he holds an icepack on his crotch.

  “What happened?” I ask, stepping into the living room as all eyes turn to me.

  Amani snorts while shaking his head, then wincing like it hurts to move that way.

  “I may have underestimated da boy’s feelings,” he says with his deep, rich accent.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  Amani takes over holding the icepack my mom was holding, and he grimaces as he turns to face me with one hand on his head, and one on his manhood.

  “I forgot an important lesson in life: No matter how big you are, never mess with a man in love when he’s trying to reach his woman. Those men don’t fight fair.”

  Pretty sure those shards of my heart all scatter, and I slowly back into my room and shut the door as the tears fall harder. I wish I hadn’t asked now.

  Chapter 49

  JAX

  Everyone is congregated around the viewing window of studio two. Hell, it’s going to be better for business than I thought, but I had my own selfish reasons for putting those yoga classes in studio two.

  When I convince Bo to come, I’ll get to watch her. Like a fucking creeper.

  Twice as many guys are here this morning, and they’re all crowding the exercise equipment that is right in front of the massive viewing window, watching the curvy asses that are stuck up in the air.

  This might not work out. I’ll end up killing someone if they stare at Bo’s ass and drool the way they’re drooling now.

  ME: Just got those yoga classes running. When will you be coming?

  You got it. I’m desperate enough to take that friend preserve she tossed out to me in her pitying tone after she yanked my heart out and set it on fire. I even stooped so low as to steal her number from Ruby’s phone when she wasn’t looking.

  I don’t expect her to text back, but she does, and I’d be lying if I said my stomach doesn’t flip like a little girl who just got a look from her crush.

  This is the lowest point of my life.

  BO: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  ME: You’re the one who mentioned friendship. Here’s me taking that step.

  BO: It’s only been two days… I don’t know that I’m ready yet.

  I’m impatient, frustrated, and desperate. I’m pathetic. And I don’t give a damn.

  ME: Second class is in one hour. Which just happens to be around the time you take lunch. See you then, friend.

  I put my phone away, and I prop up on the counter as Maverick walks toward me with a huge grin on his face.

  “Best. Idea. Ever.”

  “We had yoga classes before, but I couldn’t keep instructors,” I tell him. “Now I’ve got a few.”

  “Can I sign up?” Britt asks.

  Does the girl not wear clothes to the gym? I really don’t need a Sterling brawling when someone looks at he
r ass in those tiny shorts—I think they should be classified as underwear—and a sports bra.

  “Damn it,” Corbin growls when he sees her.

  “You can sign up for yoga,” I tell her, handing her the sheet. “But this is for the more advanced class.”

  “I learn quickly.”

  “Why do you want to yoga?” Maverick asks her.

  “Yoga isn’t a verb,” Britt says while writing her name in and reading over the list. “And I want to take it because my paper research on porn stars versus virgins got me curious as to why so many men chose porn stars. I think I understand why. They’re very flexible, which allows for some very unorthodox positions.”

  Maverick and Corbin glare at her, but Maverick finally looks away, shaking his head while muttering, “Why do I ask these things?”

  “Bo Brendon’s name is on here,” Britt points out. “That’s Ruby’s friend.”

  “Making sure she has a spot.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but Maverick looks at me, surprised.

  “Bo is coming?”

  “Bo knows about it,” I say in deflection.

  Something akin to “inspiration striking” crosses his eyes.

  “Holy fucking shit! How have I not thought of that before?”

  “What?” Corbin, Britt, and I all ask in unison.

  “Bo knows!” he says, doing a terrible Bo Jackson impersonation.

  Corbin and I both groan, while Maverick does what I assume is his version of a happy dance. There’s some air-spanking involved.

  “Do you realize how many jokes I can make with that? It’ll be epic!”

  “It doesn’t take much to excite him,” Corbin says, rolling his eyes.

  “I don’t get it,” Britt announces.

  “Sports thing,” Maverick says dismissively.

  They walk off to go work out on the side of the gym that doesn’t have the viewing window, while Maverick continues to make terrible Bo knows jokes.

  Almost an hour later, I look up just as she walks in, and I have to brace myself on the counter to keep from falling to the floor like a little bitch. Her eyes lock with mine immediately, and she fidgets nervously.