Shafted(Devil's Blaze MC 4)(39)

“Oh, come on, Aubree. You can give me ten minutes. You stood me up the other day when we were supposed to celebrate taking our SAT’s.”

“I just have a lot going on right now. Maybe we can have dinner when I get back in town.” Yeah, right. Not happening.

“Five minutes, that’s all I ask, Breezy.”

I shrink back. “What did you call me?”

“Breezy. That’s your nickname, right?”

“Only Pops calls me that and a few other close family members. How did you know about it?”

“You’ve mentioned it before,” he says coolly.

“But, I haven’t,” I tell him convinced of that. I rarely share anything about my life with anyone. I sure wouldn’t be so forthcoming with anyone at school. I definitely wouldn’t share my nickname.

“You must have, or I wouldn’t know it, now would I?”

“I don’t remember telling you,” I say again, feeling really weirded-out.

“Geez, Aubree you’re getting all paranoid. Can’t we just sit down and enjoy each other’s company.”

“Another time, maybe.” Like when Hell freezes over. “I really have to go now.”

I stand up to make my getaway. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I know I need to leave and get back before Jax comes home. I also know that in the future I’m going to avoid Jeff at all costs. I know I haven’t mentioned my nickname to him, and I know that something feels really strange with him. What I can’t figure out, is why I never picked up on it before.

Jeff reaches out and grabs my hand. His fingers encircle my wrist, hard with bruising pressure. His skin feels cold and clammy. I jerk my hand away and look up at him. Jeff is a good looking guy in that neat, sports jock, letterman sweater kind of way. He’s nothing like Jax, and nothing that has ever appealed to me. He’s also blonde. I’ve never really been attracted to men with blonde hair. Very few men can pull off that color for me. He’s too clean cut, too…nice looking. He’s nothing like Jax.

Right now, however, he has a coldness about him that turns me off more than anything. His blue eyes are overly bright, but there’s no emotion in them. He’s trying to smile and appear at ease, but it’s coming across fake. There’s an anger that I can see easily.

“Sit down Aubree. We need to talk.”

I try again. “I told you, Jeff. I have to go. I’m heading to my aunt’s, and I need to finish packing.”

“You have time for me,” he says, increasing the pressure on my hand and jerking it so I nearly fall into the table. It hurts, but I resist, yanking my hand back.

“I don’t. I need to go,” I grit attempting not to make a scene and draw attention to us.

“You need to—”

“You need to let go of Bree’s hand while you still have your own, asshole,” Jax growls from behind me. A shiver runs down my spine. His voice is deadly calm, but the anger I feel radiating off of him makes me almost afraid to turn around. Because, I’m not sure if his anger is directed at me, or at Jeff.

I’m afraid to find out.





Chapter Thirty-One





Jax





“I don’t think what happens between me and Bree is any concern of yours,” he smarts off.

“That’s where you’d be wrong,” I tell him, trying my best to beat down the urge to shoot off the bastard’s hand.

“How do you figure?” the asshole asks.

“Anything to do with Bree has to do with me,” I answer, putting my hand on Bree’s shoulder. A show of ownership. I’m about one step away from fucking this punk’s face up so bad even his mother won’t know who in the hell he is.

“What the hell? Jesus Bree, are you letting him between your legs?”

“Jeff…” Bree gasps, and I don’t have to see her face to know she’s embarrassed. Honestly, I’ve had enough of this fucker. I walk around her and lock my hand on his wrist. He doesn’t get the hint, so I apply more pressure, and when I hear him grunt in pain, satisfaction runs through me. He drops her hand, she immediately puts it on my arm, trying to stop me.

“Jax, it’s okay,” she whispers, because she sees the anger on my face. What she didn’t realize is that in doing that, it would only make me angrier. There’s marks on her wrists. Marks that I know will turn into bruises, where the fucker grabbed her.

I don’t even think. I just snap. I clamp down on the motherfucker’s wrist, and when I feel something crack beneath my hand, I want to fucking celebrate. He’s jerking around and whining like the little bitch he is.