Love & Ruin (The Love & Ruin Series Book 1)

by J. A. Owenby

  “I’m sorry,” I sniffled, wiping the tears away.

  “No, Gemma. Are you okay?” Her dark eyebrows rose with her question.

  I wasn’t okay, but how could I tell her?

  “Mac, I don’t think this is going to work,” I muttered.

  “What? You don’t want to be my roomie anymore?” she squeaked out.

  “No, it’s not that.” I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “This. College. Washington. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t belong here.”

  “Wait, now, back it up a minute. What happened? Talk to me.”

  Another sob choked off my words, and Mac’s arm slipped gently around my shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Gemma. I’ll help you in any way I can,” she assured me.

  “Brandon,” I managed to say.

  There was no way I could miss the sudden tension in Mac’s body as I spoke his name.

  “Brandon Montgomery?” she asked, her tone barely floating above a whisper.

  “Don’t know his last name,” I mumbled through my tears.

  “About six-foot-tall, wears a constant sneer, and lives to torment girls?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Oh, Gemma. I’m so sorry.” She reached for a tissue from the desk and handed it to me. “I can’t tell you how many of my friends have had to deal with him, including me. If we’d had proof─,” Mac trailed off unable to finish her sentence.

  “You’ve dealt with him?” My attention drifted up, watching the fear and sadness flicker across her expression.

  Mac nodded and took my hand. “Stay away from him, Gemma. If he’s following you, please, let’s go to campus security or even the police.”

  “Did you go?” I asked and rubbed the tears from my eyes.

  Mac nodded and sighed deeply. “I did, and it helped, but I had to spray him with pepper spray to get him off me. Do you have some?”

  I frowned. “Yes, it’s in my pocket. I was so scared I forgot. Like, what the hell? What good will it do me if I forget I have it, Mac?” My pitch stepped up a notch as the fear returned.

  “Don’t. Don’t beat yourself up. When you’re alone, keep it in your hand instead of your pocket. If he messes with you again, spray the son of a bitch right in the face,” she said, her voice laced with venom.

  “I’m out of my element, Mac. I'm a small-town girl. I've never been anywhere outside of Breaux Bridges, Louisiana until now. I was homeschooled for years, and I took online college classes. All this...college, the people, it's too much. I should go home.”

  Mac shook her head so hard I worried her neck would snap.

  “No, please. Don’t give up yet. I can’t imagine how hard this has been, but look what you did! You came all this way on your own. You should really be proud of yourself. We will stick together everywhere we go, and when I can’t be around, carry your spray in your hand. How did you get away from Brandon this time? I mean you’re here and not drugged out somewhere naked with him.”

  My eyes popped open. “Mac,” I whispered. “Did he?” I paused, not wanting to speak it aloud.

  “No, not me.” Her head hung down, and her shoulders slumped forward, signaling she wasn’t open to discussing it yet. “How did you get past him?” she asked again.

  A ragged breath escaped me, and I told her about Hendrix.

  “No one fucks with Hendrix Harrington, Gemma. We went to high school together, and he was the state boxing champion his senior year. In fact, he still boxes. He was popular. I wasn’t. No one wanted a hyper chatterbox like me around.” She twirled her braid around her finger, her attention dropping to her lap as she fell silent again.

  Sadness seeped through me. I knew how loneliness could suffocate someone, its frigid hands wrapped around your neck, unwilling to let go. I didn’t want that for her, too.

  “I do,” I said softly.

  “Really? You’ll stay? We can figure this out and keep you safe.”

  “I’ll stay for a little bit longer and see if I can deal with this.”

  “Thank you,” Mac said shyly. “Thank you for not giving up.” Her eyes softened with a gentle smile. “Wait...now, don’t get mad.” She hopped off the bed and walked to her dresser. She returned with the same tan knit cap she’d worn the day I moved in. “Wear this. Like, get rid of the ugly ass denim hat. All it does is make you more of a target for people like Brandon. Plus, it’s getting cold, and you’ll need to keep your ears warm since you wear your hair tucked up in it.” She extended it toward me and waited to see if I would accept her idea or not.

  “Thank you,” I said softly, taking the hat from her hands.

  And for the first time, I saw past Mac’s incessant talk and straight to her heart.

  Chapter 5

  Intro to Criminal Justice had quickly become one of my favorite classes. Despite the fact I preferred to stay in the background, my parents and Ada Lynn weren’t surprised when I expressed an interest in the field. So far, the professor had left me alone in my back corner, close to the door, and never called on me. There were so many other students, I wasn’t sure he even noticed me. I also appreciated the fact he made the classes exciting and didn’t just spit out factual data. It was evident he was passionate about the topics and enjoyed teaching his students.

  After class, I packed up my belongings and headed to the library. I customarily called Ada Lynn beforehand, but I had an exam to study for and had let her know I would call tomorrow, instead. My body had finally adjusted to the time difference, but my brain hadn’t. I still had to remind myself she was two hours ahead and was asleep by around nine-thirty.

  The gawking was bothering me less, too. The new knit hat and glasses offered me something to hide behind without being too obvious. And mentally it made things easier to deal with when snickers followed after I walked by. Truth be told, although I’d worn clothes that hung off me for a long time, it was rare others had seen me in them other than my parents and Ada Lynn. Only occasionally would I even leave the house to go out in public. I’d told myself it wouldn’t bother me when I attended the university, but it had. However, I wasn’t going to change my appearance to make someone like me. Screw them. Besides, I had Mac and Ada Lynn. I didn’t need anyone else.

  I groaned inwardly as I slipped into the library and spotted the back of Hendrix’s head at my table. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pull his pretty hair out of his head or run my hands through it. He’d been good to his word so far and had sat quietly at the table. On occasion, I’d catch him peeking at me. The only reason I caught him, though, was I’d glance his way as well. His insistence on sitting at my table had started as a battle of wills, and some days I didn’t mind him being there. However, today wasn’t one of them.

  My books smacked against the table as I huffed and slumped into my chair. Hendrix ignored me, his head low, hair hanging over whatever he was working on. Maybe he had headphones in and couldn’t hear me. I’d had every intention of asking him to move today, to let me breathe for a few minutes and focus on my notes for the upcoming exam. There was only one problem. I didn't want to touch him to get his attention and tell him to go somewhere else. Tapping on the table, like he'd done to get my attention the first time, was also not an option because his damned hair was hanging down over his face. I refused to move. This was my table, and I wasn’t the one invading someone else’s space.

  The minutes ticked by and the more I told myself to ignore him, the more his presence taunted me. He never looked up. Why the hell I gave a rat’s ass was beyond me.

  Flipping through Spotify, I landed on some music I hoped would help me concentrate on the task at hand, studying for my test tomorrow.

  Finally, his head lifted slowly, his face solemn. My gaze lifted from my biology book enough to peek over at him, but not enough he would realize what I was up to.

  My mouth dropped slightly when I realized what it was he’d been working on. His blue eyes lifted from the pages he’d been writing, his expression softening as he
caught my stare. He flashed that damned smile at me and motioned for me to take my headphones out.

  “Yes?” I asked, injecting as much irritation as possible into that one word.

  “You’re not curious?” he asked, his eyebrows rising. “I saw you looking.”

  “Maybe.” My chin tilted slightly. “What are you working on?”

  “A new song.” He laid the pencil down by the sheet music covered with notes and lyrics.

  “What kind?” I inwardly groaned at my inability to hide my interest any longer.

  “I don’t want to say pop, it’s not accurate.” He hesitated and ran his hand along his chin. “I’m more along the lines of a singer-songwriter.”

  “You sing, too?” There was no more hiding behind my wall, he had my undivided attention.

  “If that’s what you want to call it,” he chuckled. His laugh was a low rumble that sent a thrill through my body, making my cheeks hot.

  “You okay?” he asked, examining me intently.

  Oh. My. God. My face grew hotter with his scrutiny. I didn't think I'd blushed as much in my entire life as I had since meeting Hendrix. I'd also forgotten how red my fair skin got when I was embarrassed. People actually thought I was sick with a fever. Shit.

  “Mm-hmm.” I tugged my hat down farther over my ears and returned to my book, hoping the redness would calm down.

  “You listen to music a lot,” he said. “I can hear it sometimes.”

  I looked back at him. “Yeah. All the time. Music and books are my thing I guess. People─not so much,” I said, my nose wrinkling in disdain.

  He nodded as though he understood exactly what I was talking about, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not really. From what Mac had told me he knew a lot of people and was very popular. Why he chose to sit at this table every day with me was beyond my comprehension, unless he wanted something. I quickly brushed the thought away and reminded myself he was the one who had kept me safe from Brandon that day. A part of me wanted to believe he was different and was just a good person, but I hadn’t met many of those.

  “Tell me what you like to listen to,” he said and nodded toward my iPhone.

  I leaned back in my seat and swiped through a few of the songs on one of my favorite playlists.

  “There’s a small possibility I might have a Spotify addiction. However I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up.” My eyes narrowed in case he wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he tapped the screen of his phone, pulled up the multiple playlists on his Spotify app, and turned it toward me. His made mine look like a hobby.

  “Shit,” I said and leaned forward to get a better look. They were all over the board from pop to classical. “Can I?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Yeah. Can I see yours?”

  I nodded, and we exchanged phones.

  My brow raised as I recognized Citizen Shade, Billy Raffoul, P!nk, Alexander Jean, and some others I wasn’t familiar with. I’d officially met my match.

  “You should try this one." Hendrix made a few taps on my phone. "And really listen to the lyrics," he said, his gaze intense as he handed my phone back to me. Reluctantly, I returned his, too. If I could, I’d have spent the rest of the evening scrolling through his tunes and sampling.

  I looked at the screen. “Church with No Ceiling” by Lostboycrow. I'd never heard of this artist. I started the music and slipped in one earbud. As soon as the singer's silky tone drifted into my ear, my soul sighed with happiness. As Hendrix instructed, I listened carefully to the lyrics and the message they imparted. This song had just officially landed on my playlist. Plus I'd look up every other one by this guy.

  After it finished, I set my phone down on the table and peered at Hendrix. A familiar fear crept up my spine.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked, remembering my past, how people hid behind a façade until it was too late. Nothing was ever what it seemed.

  Hendrix’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “Cut the shit. No one sits at the same table as someone else, day in and day out, and doesn’t want something. Thank you for what you did for me concerning Brandon. I don’t need anything from you, though, and I sure as hell don’t owe you anything.” My nostrils flared, my anger escalating.

  He relaxed in his seat, a gentle smile easing across his handsome face.

  “I don’t want anything from you. Well, that’s a lie. Your name would be nice.”

  “Why should I tell you my name? What. Do. You. Want?”

  Hendrix leaned over the table slowly.

  “Honestly? I want to know who the girl underneath the new hat and glasses is, and I want her to feel safe enough to have a friend. I don’t know what you’ve been through or anything about you for that matter. There’s something...captivating I can’t ignore. Something special.”

  My breath hitched in my throat. He was lying. He wanted to gain my trust so my walls would drop and he could move in and hurt me. His approach was just smoother than Brandon’s.

  “Stay away from me.” I jumped out of my chair and gathered my belongings.

  His mouth hung open in shock. “Wait, no. Dammit, I didn’t mean to scare you. Let’s talk. Come to the fundraiser tonight. It’s outside the student center.”

  “No. Don’t sit at my table again or come anywhere near me,” I demanded, my voice cracking and tears threatening my vision. I darted past him and out of the library.

  Once again, I found myself running as fast as I could to my dorm room. Slamming the door closed behind me, the tears spilled down my cheeks. How in the world could I have thought he might, just might, have been a decent person? Seriously? Who the fuck did he think he was? He needed to stick to writing music and stop analyzing people. What I chose to wear or anything else about me was none of his damned business.

  Exhaustion washed over me, and I settled into my bed, wishing I was at home with Ada Lynn, rocking together on her porch. Safe.

  With fun memories of Ada Lynn, I drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  “Yo, bestie roomie,” Mac said, shaking my shoulder gently.

  “Huh?” I sat up and peered at her through hazy, sleep filled eyes.

  “We’re going out tonight,” she announced while she shed her clothes and rifled through her stack of clean ones piled on the floor.

  “No.” My body collapsed on my bed again.

  “Sorry, no isn’t in the English language tonight. Up you go.”

  I rolled away from her and hoped she’d take the hint and leave. No such luck.

  “You’re in a funk, and I need my bestie, so get your ass up, put on your hat, and let’s go.”

  “Now that I only have one hat, I had planned on staying in and washing it. Figured I’d wrap my hair in a towel like I’d just stepped out of the shower, so no one would see it.”

  “Nice try, but no. I have another one you can borrow if you’re going to give me that nonsense. I’m so not kidding, I will tug you out of bed, and it won’t feel too great when your body hits the hardwood floor. Trust me.”

  Groaning loudly, I rolled back over to see her dressed in jeans and a bright pink long-sleeved shirt. Her hands rested on her hips as she tapped her foot incessantly, waiting for me to get out of bed. Although I hated to admit it, I’d met my match with Mac. Fighting her was a lost cause.

  I ran a brush through my long hair and twisted it up, bunching it underneath my newly borrowed knit hat.

  “Where are we going that’s so important?” I asked, slipping on my glasses.

  “There’s an event outside the student center tonight. I’ll cover your admittance fee. Besides, it goes to the local children’s hospital. It’s for a great cause, and the entire campus will be there.”

  My pulse quickened as I realized Hendrix would be there. At least it was highly unlikely I’d run into him if the entire campus would be there.

  “Mac, you know I don’t do well in crowds.” I gulped.

  “We will stay together. You have your phone a
nd pepper spray, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Great! We’re all set. If we, for some odd reason, get separated, just meet me by the eagle statue near the south side of the building. Got it?”

  I hesitated.

  This didn’t sound like a good idea to me.

  “I don’t know,” I muttered.

  “What? Gemma, come on. You never leave the room unless it’s for class or the library. I’ve had a shit day, and I need a break. Like, I’d even hookup tonight with some rando dude.”

  “Mac!” I gasped.

  “What? A girl's got needs, and I’m too damned busy to have a committed relationship, so sometimes ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. I mean, don’t you?”

  “No!”

  “Like never? You’ve never had a booty call? A hookup? A one nighter? A slut fest? What do you guys call it down south?”

  “Inappropriate,” I said, instinctively grabbing the collar of my shirt, pulling it tighter around my neck.

  “Okay, totally get it, but we’re going. And don’t forget your jacket. I need my bestie tonight, not you making excuses to come back to the room.”

  Until Mac, I hadn't had a best friend since I was fourteen. And Fae had turned out to be the exact opposite of a best friend. Unfortunately, by the time I figured her out the damage had already been done.

  After five weeks of spending virtually every day with Mac, I knew she wasn't mad at me. This forcefulness was just part of her unique personality. Despite the fact it was against my better judgment to go out tonight, she'd admitted she'd had a shit day. I wanted to be there for her.

  “Fine.” I stood, gathered my belongings, and begrudgingly followed her out the door.

  * * *

  To other people, it wasn’t chilly yet. But after sunset, I froze. Louisiana never cooled off this much in early October. We took our time and strolled toward the student center. The crisp air was a nice change after being inside all day. I wouldn’t admit it to Mac, though.

  “Thanks for reminding me to grab a jacket,” I said, pulling it tighter around me.

  She grinned. “I realize I can be difficult, but I appreciate you coming with me. I know other people here, but I think it’s good for you to get out some, too. Besides, you put up with me better than others do. I’m always worried I’m going to say the wrong thing or never shut the hell up.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping forward, a tic I had noticed whenever she was unsure of herself. “They get mad at me. You’re not like that. I mean, at least I don’t think so.”