Unscathed

by Tim O'Rourke

  UNSCATHED

  By

  Tim O’Rourke & C.J. Pinard

  Copyright 2013 Tim O’Rourke & C.J. Pinard

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

  Cover art by Tim O’Rourke

  Photos used with permission by iStock Photography

  Story and Content Editing by Lynda O’Rourke

  Dedication:

  This is for the fans of the Tim O’Rourke Fan Club!

  More Books by C.J. Pinard

  Enchanted Immortals (Book #1)

  Enchanted Immortals 2: The Vortex

  Enchanted Immortals 3: The Vampyre

  Enchanted Immortals 4: The Vixen

  Three of a Kind: Tales of Luck, Chance & Misfortune (Short story collaboration)

  Summer Sizzle: Stories of Love, Lust, and Passion (Short story collaboration)

  Patriotic Duty (contemporary romance)

  BSI: Bureau of Supernatural Investigation (An Enchanted Immortals Novella)

  Blood Bites: Three Vampire Tales (Short story collaboration)

  You can contact C.J. Pinard at

  cjpinardauthor@gmail.com

  https://www.facebook.com/CJPinardAuthor?ref=hl

  More books by Tim O’Rourke

  Kiera Hudson Series

  Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 1

  Vampire Wake (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 2

  Vampire Hunt (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 3

  Vampire Breed (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4

  Wolf House (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4.5

  Vampire Hollows (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 5

  Dead Flesh (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1

  Dead Night (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1.5

  Dead Angels (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 2

  Dead Statues (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 3

  Dead Seth (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 4

  Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 5

  Dead Water (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 6

  Dead Push (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 7

  Black Hill Farm (Books 1 & 2)

  Black Hill Farm (Book 1)

  Black Hill Farm: Andy’s Diary (Book 2)

  Sydney Hart Novels

  Witch (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 1

  Yellow (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 2

  The Doorways Trilogy

  Doorways (Doorways Trilogy Book 1)

  The League of Doorways (Doorways Trilogy Book 2)

  Moon Trilogy

  Moonlight (Moon Trilogy) Book 1

  Moonbeam (Moon Trilogy) Book 2

  Samantha Carter – Vampire Seeker Series

  Vampire Seeker (Samantha Carter Series) Book 1

  You can contact Tim O’Rourke at

  www.kierahudson.com or by email at kierahudson91@aol.com

  Unscathed

  Chapter One

  Jax

  It was always the same question: Who do you think you are? Why the hell did people always ask me that? Was it my appearance that immediately put people on the defensive? I was a nice guy deep down. I kept to myself for the most part – until someone pissed me off – but I really tried to stay out of other people’s business. I just didn’t really like people, if I was honest, so when that annoying question got thrown in my face, well, yeah it irritated the shit out of me.

  I was used to it from older folks or perhaps a stranger I would accidentally bump into. They’d take one look at me and assume I was some punk trying to be an ass. But most of the time, I was just being me. Sure, I could be an ass – trust me on that one – but on a normal day, no. Couldn’t people just say “excuse me” – or how about nothing at all? Why always that stupid question?

  I wasn’t expecting it from her, though. Yeah, I’d seen her around; she and her snobby sorority girlfriends hung out at the Starbucks across from the university campus. I probably should have found another place to unwind, but I just didn’t want to. This particular Starbucks was close to my house and the Wi-Fi was always fast. Most of the people in here didn’t bother me, but today was the first time she’d spoken to me.

  “Geez! Who do you think you are? Watch it!” she said as I turned around after grabbing my drink from the barista.

  I honestly had not seen her at all. I just wanted to get back to my laptop and the game I was playing. I had two hours before I had to get to work and wanted some downtime.

  I grumbled an apology and suppressed an eye roll before scooting around her, trying not to spill more coffee. I think some had gotten on her more-than-likely expensive shirt.

  Good.

  I heard her huff behind me as she carried her chai tea back to her girlfriends. I could feel their glares on me. Screw them, I wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction of looking in their direction. I sipped my black coffee and went back to my computer game. It was much more interesting than those little college girls anyway.

  I mostly tuned them out, but after about fifteen minutes of obnoxious giggles and snorts, I finally looked up. She and two of her friends were looking right at me. I locked eyes with her for about five seconds until she finally looked away. I found myself staring at the side of her face. The sun from the window behind her gave her blonde hair a glow. I bit back a smile at the small amount of satisfaction I’d received from winning our stare-down contest. Her other two friends, another blonde, and a pretty black girl, were still giggling, and, I’m sure, talking about me. Whatev… I didn’t have the energy for childish girls. I cursed myself for forgetting my iPod so I wouldn’t have to listen to their shit. I shook my head and went back to my game.

  My laptop popped up a message that my battery was getting low. I checked my phone and saw I had another hour before I had to be at work. I decided to go back to my house and pack up some food before heading to the mechanic’s shop where I worked. I snapped the laptop closed and picked up my backpack.

  I walked past the girls, not giving them the satisfaction of a glance, when I heard, “Bye, Lucky,” followed by giggles.

  Lucky? Ah… yeah, that’s not the first time I’d been called that. The huge shamrock tattooed on my left forearm had “Lucky” inked into the center of it.

  Lucky I’m leaving, I thought. I went out to my motorcycle, shoved the laptop into my backpack, and fished my keys from my pocket. I slid the helmet on and rumbled down the street.

  As I put the key in the lock to my front door, I grew irritated at myself for even thinking about her. Yeah, she was pretty, but she knew it. I didn’t even know her name… and you know what? I didn’t want to know it. It was better that way. Easier. Then I wouldn’t have to think about her when I wasn’t at the coffee shop.

  I plugged my laptop in at the kitchen counter and went into my bedroom to find my iPod. Now, where had I seen it last? That’s right, fell asleep listening to it. Sure enough, it was lying on the empty pillow next to mine. A smile found my face as I snatched it up and shoved it into my pocket. The last person to be lying on that pillow where the iPod had just been was a pretty brunette with a few tattoos of her own.

  I’d picked her up in a bar last weekend. She had been eyeing me across the room, sipping on a beer as she shot pool. Or attempted to shoot pool, I should say. She totally sucked at it, but I could tell she was having fun bend
ing over the pool table, sticking her ass in the air like a cat in heat.

  She put out the bait, and like a dog, I took it.

  We’d both had a few beers so I probably shouldn’t have driven my bike but I was okay – really – but she wasn’t. She was easy to get back to my house and her clothes came off even easier.

  “Call me,” she’d called out as I dropped her at her apartment the next morning.

  Yeah, sure.

  Buttoning up my uniform shirt for the Volvo dealership where I worked, I smiled again thinking about that brunette (what was her name?), but then I thought about the pretty blonde at the coffee shop. Now she was trouble. I knew I’d better think of something else – fast.

  Chapter Two

  Mina

  His dark eyes were fixed center and I knew he was struggling not to glance at us. We’d been teasing him ever since he’d knocked into me at the barista. With a mushroom-shaped coffee stain on my shirt, I sat at the table with my friends and glared across the coffee shop at him.

  “You should send the jerk the cleaning bill,” Mandy sniffed, passing me a napkin.

  I patted the front of my shirt with it, watching the guy take his seat a few tables away from ours. He flipped open his laptop. The light from the screen lit up his strong-looking face. He looked to have at least two days’ worth of stubble shadowing the lower half of his face and a neatly trimmed goatee beard covered his chin.

  “I’m surprised someone like him even knows what a Frappuccino is,” Evelyn said, sipping her own through a straw and watching him from beneath her long blonde fringe.

  “He looks like he’d be more at home in the freaking ape house,” Mandy chimed in.

  Hearing this, Evelyn sprayed laughter, sounding like something close to a donkey. I saw the guy flinch. He knew we were making fun of him. I liked the idea he was feeling uncomfortable. It made me tingle somehow – like a faint current of excitement passing through me. The coffee incident had been no accident. He hadn’t knocked into me, I had knocked into him. I had positioned myself in such a way as I stood at the barista that he would’ve had no choice other than to collide with me as he turned towards his table. But my girlfriends didn’t know that, and neither did he. Why had I done it? Because I could. Because I wanted to. Because I wanted to get a picture of him. He had seen me around and I’d seen him. He had a swagger that brimmed with arrogance, and I liked that. Not because it turned me on – but because I knew it to be a shield – a cloak of armor that was begging to be torn from him. I’d seen him saunter across campus, his finely sculpted arse clad in faded denims, tattooed forearms swinging loosely by his sides. He had enjoyed women looking at him, and he enjoyed it now. But I was interested in him for another reason. Casually, I slipped my iPhone from my pocket and switched it to video.

  Evelyn made another comment, which I didn’t quite catch, but whatever it had been, it caused Mandy to spray laughter again. This time, he snapped his head around and met my stare. I stared back across the coffee shop at him, my cool blue eyes burning into his dark brown spheres. His stare was so intense I had to fight the urge to look away, but not just yet. Not until I had discreetly positioned my iPhone so I could get a clear recording of him.

  When I was happy that I had him squarely in frame, I looked away, as if unbothered by him. The sun that poured through the window felt warm against the side of my face. I could feel his eyes burning into me for a few seconds more, and I kept the iPhone still in my hand, as I rested it against the table and secretly filmed him.

  Mandy and Evelyn were still giggling like a couple of teenagers as the guy pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. I glanced sideways and watched as he snatched up his backpack and headed towards the door. To reach it, he had to pass by our table, and I slowly turned my wrist, training my iPhone on him as he came towards us. I glanced down at the small screen and my stomach tightened. This was the best footage I had of him yet. The other clips of video I had managed to gather had always been filmed from some way off and they had been blurry, at best. But this was wonderful. He was perfectly clear and in shot as he came towards us, then passed by.

  “Bye, Lucky,” Evelyn giggled, and for the first time I noticed a huge shamrock tattooed on his left forearm. In it, the word Lucky had been written.

  With a mean-looking scowl etched across his brow, he pulled open the glass door and stepped out into the sunlight. I switched off the camera on my iPhone and slipped it into my pocket.

  Lucky, I smiled to myself. He had no idea.

  Chapter Three

  Jax

  Work totally sucked. I had an SUV with transmission problems and I had to practically take apart the whole damn engine and put it back together. I put the ‘G’ in “grease monkey” today.

  After a five hour shift that turned into eight, I washed my hands, grabbed my backpack, and headed to my house for a much-needed shower. Thankfully I lived fairly close to the dealership and I was home in a matter of minutes.

  I opened the front door and noticed all the lights were on. My roommate, Austin, was sitting at the dining room table, studying. He was a computer science major and we were polar opposites. I was messy, tattooed, drove a motorcycle, and had a couple of secret piercings nobody knew about, while Austin was a clean-cut guy who drove a Honda and came from a nice family.

  He looked up with green eyes, and I could tell his light auburn hair had just been freshly cut. “Hey, Jax. Long day?”

  I nodded, tossing my backpack on the armchair. “Yeah. I had to stay late at work. What’s new, man?”

  Austin shook his head. “Nothing. I have a huge test on Monday.”

  “That blows. You eat yet?” I asked.

  He again shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Order a pizza. I need to hit the shower. Bad.” I secretly smelled under each arm when he wasn’t looking. Damn.

  Austin laughed and said, “Okay.” His eyes moved to the screen as he found the Domino’s website.

  The shower felt fantastic. I could literally see the dirt and grime circling the drain as I soaped up every part of my body. I dried off, wrapping the white towel around my waist. I set about shaving the stubble off my face but left the goatee. I squirted some goop into my hands and tousled it into my thick, brown hair. Man, I needed a haircut – bad.

  I braced both hands on the sink and leaned in towards the mirror. My brown eyes stood staring back at me in the reflection, and the image of the blonde in the coffee shop popped into my mind again. She was hot, but there was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on.

  I had seen her on campus a few times, and even though her two friends were kinda hot, too, she was the one who always got my attention. Typical college girl, always had her phone in her hand. I used share a class with her – American History, I think – and I could swear one time I caught her snapping a picture of me with it. She had the camera up level, as one does when taking a photo, but she was probably just checking her makeup in its reflection. Yeah... it was probably just my ego wishing she wanted to take my picture. After all, if she wanted a picture of me, all she had to do was ask.

  But of course, I’d ask for one in return. A devilish smile reflected back at me. I left the bathroom to find some clothes.

  I heard the doorbell chime just as I finished getting dressed. Plain jeans and a red and gold Florida State Seminoles tee – school colors – was all I was going to be wearing tonight.

  Austin was just paying the Domino’s delivery guy as I walked out to the living room. I fished a ten dollar bill from my wallet and put it on his laptop.

  I made my way to the kitchen and plucked some paper plates from the pantry and two Cokes from the fridge, setting it all on the dining room table. We both dug into the pizza.

  I was on my third slice when my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  We’re going to Rowdy’s tonight – be there @ 10 p.m.

  Trent, always the partier. My kneejerk reaction was to stay in tonight, tell my good buddy Trent t
hat I was dog-tired, but it was Friday and I knew I’d never hear the end of it from him.

  I looked up from the phone. “Hey, Austin. Want to go to Rowdy’s with us tonight?”

  Austin’s pencil froze in mid-scrawl. He looked up and smiled. “That sounds great, but no. I have a huge project due Monday. But thanks.”

  “You sure, man? Hot cowgirls, drunk chicks, dudes in big-ass ten gallon hats we can make fun of… last chance, bro,” I said with a salacious grin.

  He smiled and shook his head, then went back to what he was doing on his laptop.

  On the way to my room to change into more appropriate club wear, I texted Trent back to tell him I’d be there. Shit, I’m gonna need some serious Red Bull to get me through the rest of the night.

  I rolled my truck into the parking lot of Rowdy’s. I was going to take my bike, but the sky had clouded over and looked brooding, so I fired up my old ’75 Ford F150 instead.

  Because of the impending rain, I knew no girl would get on my motorcycle if it was pouring. I did have an extra helmet, but still. They were usually apprehensive in the rain no matter how adventurous or drunk they were, and I wasn’t taking any chances. I was going home with someone tonight, period.

  My dad had helped me restore the old beast right after I graduated high school. The thing was a wreck – rusted from the salty Florida air and had a completely useless engine. We replaced just about everything on it, right down to the door handles, then put Flow Masters on it just to make it sound extra badass. It was jacked up tall, painted candy-apple red, and the chicks dug it. It was hands-down the best memory I had of my dad. He was a genius with any type of automobile, even the newer ones with the “damned computerized engines” he complained about all the time. Still, cars were his hobby, too, and he taught me well.