Ride With The Devil(20)

He finished the beer and grabbed another.

He would not ride past her house again. It was stupid. It was something a fucking teenager would do.

Just leave the girl alone.

But he couldn’t.

He felt like he was tearing up inside. The look on her face when he’d pushed her away… he’d hurt her.

She’d cared enough that he had hurt her.

At the same time he hurt himself.

He’d thought that she’d be confused and that was all. No good girl in her right mind would want to be with him, for real. She was just sowing her wild oats, and he was trying to keep her from getting hurt.

From getting dirty, just by being near him.

It was the hardest damn thing he’d ever done, and it had backfired. He was still tied up in knots, wanting her more than ever.

And now she hated him. Thought he was only using her. Thought he wanted somebody else more.

What a cruel joke.

Nothing could be further from the truth. She was the only one he wanted. The only one he’d ever wanted like this.

It felt like he was being twisted into two halves. The smart Jack who should be glad that she hated him. And the Jack that wanted to tear the world apart, just to get to her.

Didn’t matter that she was too good for him.

He wanted her anyway.

And now, it was too late.

He threw his beer against the wall. It smashed, spraying his tools with foamy white beer.

He stared at it, breathing hard.

Then he walked to the fridge in his studio and pulled out another one.

Maybe if he kept drinking, this ache inside him would fade.

Just a little.

Maybe it would be enough.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Janet





This is a very, very bad idea.

Janet closed her eyes and tensed her body, ready to leap out of the way. She was holding her desk chair in the air, barely able to keep it up with her trembling arms. She was already so weak from lack of food but she could do this.

She had to do this.

Her parents had left her in there for almost four days now. Four days with out food or water. Janet was starting to think they weren't ever going to let her out.

Tears stung her eyes.

She'd always known her mother didn't really love her, but to do this to her? And her father, weak as he was, he'd cared a little bit. She'd thought he had anyway. Apparently she'd been wrong.

Just like she'd been wrong about Jack.

She'd thought he cared about her. More than just wanting to take her to bed. He'd acted so protective of her when those guys had stepped to her at the mall.

But he'd just been doing what he did. He was like a medieval knight in that way. A hero who always did the right thing. It didn't mean he cared.

Nobody really cared about her.

She swallowed back the sob that caught in her throat. No time for tears. She was on her own now, once and for all. She had to do this herself. She was strong. She's survived shin splints and bloody toes on a weekly basis when she was dancing. She'd survived the loss of her chance to be a prima ballerina… the one thing she loved doing most in the world, the thing that defined her.

She'd taken on of one the Spawn's toe to toe for God's sake.

She could do this.

She knew Kaylie would try to help her but she didn't know how or when. Maybe once she was on her feet. But what could Kaylie really do?

No, Janet was on her own in this. Kaylie couldn't solve this disaster. She was no match for Janet's evil witch of a mother. She said a little prayer of thanks to God for giving her one true friend.

Her only friend in the world.

Then she swung the chair back over her head and threw it at the window.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Jack





Red…

He cracked his eyes open and tried to shake off the dream. She’d been there, telling him she wanted him. Begging him to take her in his arms and-

Well, fuck if that wasn’t the worst possible time to wake up from a dream.

Jack sat up. He was on the roof with the worst hangover he'd had in his life. No, wait, that was yesterday. Or the day before.

Today was the worst hangover anyone had had, ever, in the Goddamn history of man kind. He moaned and rolled over to a seated position. It was the fourth day of his bender.

He picked up the empty tequila bottle and grimaced. He needed a cup of coffee. He needed a shower.

He needed a shower with coffee instead of water.

"Jack man, you up there? Come down! We gotta talk to you."

Dev was calling him. He stood unsteadily and headed to the roof hatch. He flung it open and took the service ladder down to the main level.

When he got downstairs, a terrible feeling of foreboding came over him. He rubbed his head, wondering if it was just from the abuse he’d heaped on his liver. But he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“We’re out back!”

Kaylie and Dev stood in the back alley. She looked distraught. Hell, even Dev looked worried about something.