“You’re crowding my space,” she said, setting her hands on my chest and pushing me away from her. I let her, watched as she headed toward the door—which I’d locked, just in case Oliver decided to come over here.
“I wouldn’t go out there, if I were you,” I told her, causing her to abruptly stop before she turned the handle. “Oliver’s still out there.”
Jaz turned to glare at me, no longer the friendly girl she was at lunch. She was…nervous? Nervous about being alone with me? Some girls would kill for the chance, and others would want to leave the room just as badly as she did.
But she didn’t want to leave because she was stuck in here with me. She wanted to leave because I’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t have. Eavesdropping.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, cocking her head.
I said nothing, turning to pick up the butter knife she’d left on the desk in her hurry to get away from me. A single brow rose as I wordlessly asked the question plaguing my mind: what on earth was Jaz doing here with a butter knife?
“That,” she said as she took the knife from my grip, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout I almost found cute, “is none of your business. I’m asking the questions here.” She spoke in a bare whisper, now that she knew Oliver was still next door.
Or he was, before I’d come in. Maybe he was gone by now.
Or maybe he still sat in shock over everything Markus had said. After all, he’d found out his two sons were still alive, which was more than he’d hoped for, clearly.
“I came with my brother,” I told her, resting my ass on the edge of the desk, moving far enough away from the urn to not hazard an accidental touch like Jaz did moments ago. “What are you doing here? You the hired help?” The busboys and waiters downstairs wore mostly black, but none of them wore black quite like her.
If I was honest, it was my favorite color. I was usually not one to appreciate the way a girl’s body looked, but hers was voluptuous and curved in all the right places. Jaz really was a cut above the rest.
“I…” Jaz’s voice quieted; she sounded so far from the confident, sassy girl she normally was at lunch. Was it merely because I’d caught her out of her element, or was it something else? “I live here.”
“You live here?”
“Yeah,” she muttered, “my mom is Ollie’s maid. We both live here now.” She held onto the butter knife with one hand, using her other to run her palm up and down her arm, as if trying to stave away the goosebumps on her flesh.
Was she embarrassed at what she’d just admitted? I found it…well, color me fucking stupid, but I found it entrancing. For just a quick moment, I felt a strange pitter-patter in my chest. That pesky heart inside of me actually felt…warm?
That was weird.
I took a step towards her, slowly circling her like a vulture. She let me, her posture rigid, her lips parted slightly. Those leggings, I noticed, hugged her ass perfectly. It was impossible not to stare. Before I knew what I was doing, I was reaching for the elastic band in her hair, tugging it down and letting that thick, black hair free. I rolled the elastic band around my wrist, standing directly behind her.
My body wanted to be closer to hers. Was this what other people felt on a daily basis? Was this what wanting someone else was like—lusting after them, devouring them with your eyes and having it never be enough?
I didn’t like it.
But I did.
“So that’s why you were asking about Celeste,” I whispered, tentatively reaching a hand between us and touching the tips of her black hair. “You’re worried.” She didn’t step away from me, even though she could. I supposed that was a good thing.
“Things just don’t seem right around here,” Jaz whispered, her voice nearly lost by the time it reached my ears.
The hand I had touching her hair moved past it, running down the smooth curve of her back. I heard her breathe in sharply, and I found myself with the bizarre desire to keep touching her. “You’re right about that,” I relented, wondering why this girl had such a hold on me. So immediately, too.
It felt…it felt like fate.
“I only want to know that my mom and I are safe here,” Jaz whispered. Across the desk, her reflection shone in the windowpane, and I met her eyes there as I swept some of her hair over her shoulder, watching as she closed her eyes and shivered.
There were so many things I could’ve told her in that moment, so many things I caught myself from declaring. I could keep you safe. I could keep everyone else away. It could all be me. But, alas, instead I merely whispered, “No one’s ever safe in Midpark, Jaz.”
The truth. The truth from a liar’s mouth. My family lied for a living. If we all went around and told the world our bloody truths, we’d be arrested, put in prison, put to trial, and then executed.
Jaz then turned around, giving me the sultriest look I’d ever been given. Her expression made my lower gut burn with a yearning I couldn’t recognize. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re right?” she asked, her dark eyes raking over me, taking in my suit and how closely I stood to her. “You look good in a suit, Vaughn.”
I’d been paid compliments before, but never had any actually stuck. This one…I believed every single word she said.
I was well aware that I could spill the beans to her, tell her exactly what happened to Celeste and her mother, how my family had helped Oliver with the cleanup of not one but two wives, but I knew such knowledge would only drive her further away from me—and call me selfish, but I didn’t want this girl running.
No, no running, unless she ran right into my arms.
“You look good in anything,” I told her, meaning it.
Later that night, after Markus and I drove home, I dreamt of her. I dreamt of her skin naked against mine, hearing her flush sighs near my ear. I dreamt of her body tangled with mine under sheets that were as soft as velvet.
Until I woke in the middle of the night with a pitched blanket over me, I’d thought I was free of the obsession that tended to run in my family, but it looked like I was wrong.
So, so wrong.
Chapter Ten – Jaz
Turned out, pretending everything was normal when everything was not normal was a difficult thing to do. All day Sunday, I was lost in my own head. I tried to study, tried to do anything other than get lost in my thoughts, but I couldn’t.
That urn. Vaughn and his brother with Ollie. What kind of shady business were they in together? His older brother had sounded like some kind of beast in a suit. Anyone with a sense of self would be afraid of a man like that.
Thoughts like those carried over into the next day, at least until homeroom and first period, where I came face to face with Archer again.
Well, at least Archer was good to get my mind off things, right? Off of everything that had happened, the muffled words I’d heard about Ollie owing Vaughn’s family for something…and off of the meeting I had later today. After school, after my musical tutoring session with Bobbi.
I didn’t have the money, but I’d get a job somewhere if I had to. The consultation session was free, after all, so it wasn’t like I needed a good chunk of money this afternoon.
I actually made it to homeroom before Archer, which was a little odd, because so far the boy had been there before me every single day. When he sauntered in the room and headed towards his desk in the back near me, I couldn’t help but feel a warming in my gut at remembrance of what we did.
Hooking up with him had probably been a mistake, but…
Hell, I didn’t even know what happened, still. All these days later, and I didn’t know what came over me. It wasn’t like me to let passion take over, but damn it, if it hadn’t felt amazing…there was no denying the power he had over me.
Archer’s blonde hair was a little ruffled, messed up as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He wore a blazer over his shirt, nice dark jeans that hugged his assets perfectly. And, yes, that boy had every reason to look so drop-dead gorgeous with
what he was packing under there. The muscles, the dick—I mean, really, you’d have to be blind to not be able to appreciate him.
I said nothing as he sat beside me and set his books down on his desk. It took him almost a full minute to meet my eyes, which seemed a little weird, and when he did, the expression he wore was not the usual friendly face he’d always given me. No dimples, no smile.
What the hell…
Oh, wait a minute. I knew what this was about. This was because we’d hooked up, and he was probably worried I’d be clingy or something. Hah. Right. As if I wanted him to be my boyfriend or something.
The thought instantly riled me up, and I turned my head to the side, staring hard at the ground. Of course hooking up with him was stupid. What the hell was I thinking? Hint: I wasn’t. Normally I was very logical when it came to that sort of thing, but something inside of me just snapped when I was over his house.
If I could, I’d take it all back.
Eh, not really. It was a fun time.
I let Archer stick to his silence all period, and after the bell rang and everybody got up to go to their second class of the day, I followed Archer out of the room. Once we were in the hall, I tugged on his sleeve, stopping him. We stood off to the side in the hall, out of the crowd hustling to get to their next class.
This talk couldn’t last forever, otherwise we’d both be late—and Mom would kill me if she heard I’d been tardy already—so I had to keep it succinct.
“Hey,” I said once his blue eyes met mine. A color so crisp and clear even the waters in the Caribbean were jealous of their hue. His head was bent towards me, his mouth a thin line. His six-foot frame was hunched; he hardly looked like himself, and I hated it. “Are you okay?”
Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe this wasn’t about me.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he said nothing else to elaborate.
Okay, maybe this was about me.
“If this is about what happened last week,” I started, “just forget about it.” Maybe it’d be easier if we both forgot about it. Hooking up so soon had been downright stupid. I honestly didn’t know what I’d been thinking.
“I can’t,” Archer finally spoke, sighing as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. “That’s the problem.”
I blinked, not sure where he was going with that. “Why is that a problem?”
“It just is, okay? Just…give me space.” Archer said nothing else as he turned and disappeared in the hall, blending in with the other students, leaving me alone to wonder just what the hell he’d meant.
Why was it a problem? Did he plan on spending the last half of his senior year solo? I didn’t get it.
Ugh. Boys. Stupid no matter where you went or how much money they had.
Truth be told, I was still fuming about that little encounter by the time lunch arrived. I sat at the table with a huff and unrolled my bagged lunch. Crackers and cheese, nothing too special. Didn’t even know why I needed a damn bag. Stupid.
No, wait. That wasn’t stupid; Archer was stupid. Yeah.
Vaughn was already sitting by the time I did, and he watched me with his dark, penetrating stare for a while—at least until I met his eyes, for then he said, “Something bothering you, Jaz?” He cocked his head, eyes somewhat narrowed.
He sure had the intense stare down pat, didn’t he?
For whatever reason, I didn’t want to tell him about my little hookup with Archer. Even though Vaughn and I weren’t…well, anything, I just couldn’t. Maybe because, even though his family business was obviously shady as shit, I kind of liked him. Thought he was cute. Whatever.
Vaughn did look ridiculously sexy in that suit. His slender frame, even the tattoos. He’d been a smoldering hottie Saturday, and I’d be lying if I said certain thoughts didn’t run through my head when he and I were alone in that office. Even though I was a little freaked out about the urn and the ashes—because I still never found an obit for Ollie’s previous wife, which didn’t sit well with me—it was impossible not to wonder what it’d feel like for him to pin me against the wall and…
Do other stuff. Ahem.
“Yeah,” I said, deciding to turn it around on him. While the lunchroom around us was a cacophony of sound, our table was silent for a few minutes until I asked, “What business does your family have with Ollie?”
Vaughn set his arms on the table, and for a split-second, my eyes fell to the words written on his knuckles. Hate and pain. What kind of rich family would want their kid tatted up like that? Then again, maybe his family didn’t like the tattoos either. Maybe he’d turned eighteen and decided to get them for himself regardless; it was as plausible as anything else.
“Why are you so curious about everything?” he questioned.
“I told you, I just want to make sure my mom and I are safe.”
“And I told you no one is safe.”
True. He did. And just like then, it was very ominous to hear now. Felt like the beginning of a horror movie, when the dirty man at the gas station in the middle of nowhere warned the main characters not to go where they were going.
Unlike those characters in the movies, though, I had to ask, “Why?” Why was no one safe in Midpark? Why did it feel like Vaughn knew what he was talking about? Why, why, why?
“You heard what happened years ago, but things around here have been steady,” Vaughn explained. Today he didn’t bother getting any food; I never understood why he wasted the food, because he never ate it. “It comes and goes. I’m no psychic, but I bet the worst is planning on coming around again.”
Right. Very mysterious, very cryptic, very aggravating and pointless.
“So you’re saying you think my mom and I should leave?” I decided to ask what I’d already thought about. Finding a place to live would be the hardest thing, but we’d make do. We’d figure it out. We always did.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying bad things happen, and money tends to cover it up. If you’re not careful, you might find out something you don’t want to know.”
“Like what you and your brother were doing over at Ollie’s house on Saturday?” I offered, hoping to trip him up.
A slow smirk crawled across Vaughn’s mouth, and I watched it form. I wasn’t really a fan of the tattooed bad boys, but for Vaughn, I could definitely make an exception. He wasn’t someone I’d bring home to meet my mom, but I was sure he’d be good for other things.
Wow. All right. Clearly, I had sex on the brain—which was stupid, considering what happened last week with Archer.
“I’d be very careful asking questions like that,” Vaughn whispered, his voice low. So low I could hardly hear him with the noise around us. Everyone else, chatting away without a care in the world. “You might just stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and then what would happen?”
“What?”
Vaughn said nothing, leaving me an insane kind of curious.
Was that a threat?
I ate my crackers and cheese in silence, frowning at him. Vaughn watched me the whole time, and I…I wasn’t sure if I liked his attention or not. Sure, he was attractive, but there was obviously something else going on. Something with his family and Ollie, something they’d need privacy to discuss.
Maybe I wouldn’t just ask about Ollie. Maybe I’d ask about Vaughn’s family, too. I filed those questions away for later; first I had to get through the afternoon, including a session with Bobbi in the choir room after last period. I’d already told Mom I needed some musical tutoring, and she was just happy I was actually getting into something.
I wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell her that.
Vaughn and I hardly spoke the rest of lunch, and when the bells rang overhead, I hurried to pick up my stuff and leave, not even telling him goodbye. If he wanted to be creepy, whatever. He could be. No one was stopping him. But I wasn’t going to sit there and take it with a smile on my face, either.
I wanted an ea
sy afternoon, at least my last classes, anyway—I knew that choir tutoring would be like nails on a chalkboard—but when I made it to my locker after lunch, I saw a girl standing near it, a purse that probably cost a few hundred dollars, or more, slung across her shoulders. Her blonde hair was curled, tumbling down her back. Today she wore four-inch heels and a dress that hugged the curves on her body.
I didn’t know her name, but I did remember her from before: the girl who accused me of being Ollie’s next wife. Or plaything. Or whatever.
“Um,” I spoke, causing her to lean her back against the lockers and look at me. “You’re kind of blocking my locker.”
Her lips, painted in a dark, matte red, curled into a smile. “I know. I just wanted to make sure I got your attention.”
A part of me wanted to tell her she’d got my attention last week after the things she’d said, but I held it in. Maybe this girl wasn’t as bad as her first impression gave off. Maybe she was actually nice.
Hah. Probably a pipe dream. She kind of radiated bitch, even when she wasn’t outright being one.
“Well, you have it,” I said, really hoping she’d get to the point fast. Hardly anyone had spoken to me so far, unless they were forced to. I wasn’t under the impression that I had any friends here, but making enemies, I knew, was a no-go. Lay low, be good. Don’t get the entire high school upset with me by being mean to one of its most popular students.
I had no idea if this chick was popular, and I didn’t really care. I meant it, though, when I said I didn’t want to make enemies. I still had half a year left, and if Mom and I ended up staying here, I didn’t want to live through hell for the next six months until graduation. Hell was not on my bucket list.
“I’ve been trying to figure you out,” the girl said, eyeing me up. “You came to school with Oliver Fitzpatrick once, but ever since then, you come in a ratty minivan the nineties are missing. Word around town is Oliver hired a maid—and what’s even worse, the maid lives with him. That wouldn’t be you, would it? Or the middle-aged has-been who owns that van?”
Feisty: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 1) Page 8
