Ride With The Devil(7)
The man looked scared, which was what Dev wanted. What they all wanted.
It was better if he suffered, mentally torturing himself.
It was better than killing him, or just messing him up. All three options were still on the table. But for now, the order was to keep tabs.
So they did.
But tonight something new was going on.
Grant had company.
A woman's voice was raised over the sound of classic rock. Not the good stuff though. The soft stuff. Rock ballads that chicks liked.
Jack sneered.
A blond threw open a window, then turned to throw a beer can across the room. Donnie and Jack exchanged a glance.
Fucking Dani.
“Well holy shit.”
Jack grunted in agreement.
“Come on, we got to update Dev. He should be home from dropping Kaylie off.”
That was funny. It took Dev three hours to ‘drop Kaylie off’. He never wanted the girl out of his sight.
Plus Jack knew that Dev was trying to find creative ways and places to screw the living hell out of his woman.
He smirked. Dev had it bad. Jack would never let that happen to him.
He’d never beg for a woman, no matter how irresistible she was.
Chapter Seven
Janet
Janet moaned, rolling over in bed. Her head hurt. Those sea breezes had punched more of a wallop than she'd imagined. She stared at the clock by her bedside table.
The minute hand clicked over to 7 AM.
What the hell was she doing up at 7 AM???
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG
Somebody was knocking on her door. No, knocking was too polite a word. They were pounding. Like her head.
"Oh God… Come in…"
"Janet, open the door this instance!"
She shut her eyes tightly. She must have thrown the latch last night in her inebriated state. She'd been in another world last night when she got home.
Thinking about him.
She'd tossed and turned half the night. Feeling his eyes on her, even hours later. Did he like her? Want her? Or was he judging her and finding her lacking…
She must seem like a silly girl to a hard man like him. Then again, he was loyal to Kaylie and they were the same age. But she was a very different person than her quiet friend.
All she knew was, she cared what he thought of her after meeting him once. Jack. The Viking.
Argh!
Who knew men could be so confusing? In college it had been straightforward and obvious if a boy liked you or not. Now she was all hot and bothered by a man who may or may not even know she existed.
BANG BANG BANG BANG
"I'm coming! Jesus!"
She rolled to her feet and tentatively walked toward the door. She felt a bit off kilter but found her sea legs quickly. She almost giggled. Being hungover was a lot like being on a swaying boat.
She knew because her ballet company had thrown its annual fundraiser on a boat one year. A booze cruise. That of course, the underage dancers were forbidden from partaking in.
She unlocked the door and opened it to see her mother standing in the hallway with a sour expression on her face. As usual.
"Janet, if you are going to live in this house, then I expect you to be up at 7 o'clock."
"Uh… okay mom."
"And I expect you to be a productive member of this household, if not society!"
Janet didn't say anything. She was standing there in her panties and a camisole looking at her mother's face. There was no love there. Just… regret.
Her mother had never wanted children. She'd never said so but Janet had overheard her yelling at her father late one night. Everything that had gone wrong in her life was all his fault.
And Janet's. Just for existing.
"If you aren't going to work, you will be doing chores! I made a list. It's in the kitchen. You can start there.”
Her mother turned and abruptly walked away. Janet eyed her bed longingly then sighed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She just knew her mother was going to make her life a living hell until she got a job.
But who was going to hire her? An ex dancer slash college drop out with zero experience under her belt? It wasn’t going to be easy, that was for sure.
She considered asking Kaylie if Mae needed anyone at the diner but was almost afraid to. What if she was a terrible waitress?
What she really needed was to get out of this house. She felt like she was suffocating here after only a few weeks.
It wasn’t just leftover teenage angst. She wasn’t wanted here. Her parents didn't really care about her. They just cared what the neighbors thought.
By ten o'clock Janet had swept, mopped, and vacuumed the house. By noon she had raked and weeded under the rose bushes. Her mother had hovered over her almost constantly, riding her without mercy.
Janet's resentment had grown to a boiling point around 3 pm, but since her mother had conveniently disappeared around that time, a patch of weeds had gotten the brunt of it.