Wrecked Read online

  “Uh-huh. Not sure you’re too good at staying out of the way. Heard you had a run-in with the Hayes kid last night.” I don’t even want to ask how the hell he would have heard about that, but he tells me anyway. “Went down to the bar with my lady friend and that whole lot he runs with came in. Couldn’t shut up about you. Maybe that pussy’ll do you some good here, after all. Hell, almost any man’ll buy a used car if the engine’s still good.” He laughs at his own god-awful joke.

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence.” I can’t help the emotion that floods my voice. This man is my father. What the hell did I do in a past life to deserve such bullshit in this one?

  “If you think I’m a cold bastard, I can’t imagine what you thought of him.” He chuckles like that’s funny, too. And I so desperately want to believe he doesn’t know all the dirty details of my run-in with Jasper, but I know it’s probably just wishful thinking. Everybody in this complex has probably heard by now about how he stripped me out of my sweatshirt and showed me who the hell was boss.

  I feel physically ill at the thought of it. Especially when I remember I didn’t snatch my sweatshirt back from Jasper last night when we parted ways. I’m not sure what even compelled him to bring it with him to hunt me down, but I guess it wasn’t with the intention of giving it back since he didn’t.

  “Is my room still…?”

  He waves his hand toward the short hall. “Yeah, yeah. What the hell was I going to do with it?”

  Five years and I’ve still got a bedroom in this man’s house. I’m not so stupid to believe he was missing me and hoping I’d come back. He was probably just too lazy to bother doing anything different.

  That point gets confirmed when I push the door open at the end of the hall and a cloud of dust greets me, making me cough. My eyes water, not from tears this time thankfully, but from the burn of dust settling in them. I carefully put my bag in the corner of the room, trying to dislodge as little extra dust as possible, and then make my way to the window.

  It takes some serious elbow grease, but eventually I manage to get the thing to open. It’s a whole other risk I take by opening a window all the way in a place like this, but at this point I can’t imagine anyone would brave the dust to rob this place.

  Not that there seemed to be much to take. I breezed through pretty quickly, but I could see all the familiar old furniture. The faded hand-me-down couch. The mismatched chairs pulled mostly from dumpsters and frankensteined together. The only thing that looked new was the flat screen TV on the wall. He probably stole it. Or bought it stolen, at the very least.

  As I start to strip down the old sheets on the bed, I can’t help but remember how I thought the same thing about Jasper’s car when I got my first look at it last night.

  It’s too nice for a place like this. Too respectable and too clean and definitely too new. There’s no way he’d have a car like that and have come by it honestly. Unless he’s a drug dealer maybe, but even then I wouldn’t call that honest.

  “Why the fuck am I even thinking about that asshole?” I grumble under my breath.

  I shake my head at myself at the same time my stomach decides to make some noise of its own again. I don’t know how much longer I can go without real food. Which is a real problem considering there’s no way in hell I’m burning the little bit of money I have on something that’s going to disappear into my mouth within seconds.

  If I can wait it out today, maybe I can find a bar tonight. Put on the v-neck top I’ve got in my bag and go sweet talk someone into feeding me. The idea of it makes my stomach turn, already prepping myself to pimp myself out for a warm meal once again. I came here to stop doing this shit, but it’s not like I can ask my dad to feed me. He’d sooner kick me out on my ass for bothering him.

  It’s the same reason I don’t dare ask him if he’s got cleaning supplies waiting around. I grab the washcloth out of my bag—I’ve learned over the years to keep one handy—and tiptoe out of my room and into the bathroom to wet it.

  You’ve had worse days, Shay. Cleaning a room with nothing but water and a washcloth is not going to be the thing that breaks you.

  I’m interrupted just before I’m done cleaning by the sound of a sharp knock on the closed bedroom door. I freeze as my dad calls through the door, “Ya got company.”

  My heart leaps up into my throat as I picture Jasper standing at the front door, waiting to finish what he started. I scramble to my feet and slam the window closed, locking it for good measure. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to climb through my window after I slam the door in his face—which I absolutely intend to do.

  I brush my hair out of my face as I leave the sanctity of my bedroom and head for the front door. My dad’s nowhere to be found now, though I have no idea if it’s because he’s left or if he’s just stowed away in his own room now.

  I’m relieved to find he didn’t let my company in to wait for me. I pull open the door, fully prepared to raise hell until my eyes catch blonde hair.

  Not Jasper.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice comes out hoarse, but it’s only from lack of use today. I’m not scared of this asshole. He’s already shown me his worst.

  “I’m here to take you home.”

  I bark out a laugh that only angers him. “The last time I saw you, you told me you’d be glad if I was gone. I know you meant dead, but this ought to be the next best thing.” I’m not sure how this guy even found me, much less why. It’s not like I walked around telling stories about growing up in dear ol’ Kings Court.

  “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how I felt the last time you wagged that smart tongue at me.” His jaw clenches at the same time his fists do. It’s not enough warning before he reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair, using his grip to pull me out of my apartment and then slam me back against the wall between my door and the one to apartment B.

  I almost consider calling out for help until I remember that my dad’s the last person that’s going to save me from a beating. If anything, he might get mad about me bothering him and decide to take over from here.

  Let Mike hit you, it will still be better than Dad’s belt.

  Mike leans in close, his breath stale with liquor as if he’s been drinking himself stupid the whole time I’ve been gone. I’m sure that’s actually the case, too. “You know what the problem is with girls like you? You’re only good for one thing, and that one thing ain’t good enough to make it worth dealing with your goddamn mouth.”

  He rubs a hand over the front of my pants so that there’s no question what that one thing is. My mind spins with options. I know one thing for sure—I cannot let this man drag me home with him. The next time, he’s going to kill me for real. And death, that’s the only thing I can’t come back from.

  I startle hard when the door next to us flies open, wincing when it causes me to jerk against Mike’s grip on my hair. I can’t see who it is at first, but the fact that Mike doesn’t let go is no real surprise. Of course he doesn’t mind someone interrupting, the guy thinks he’s invincible just because he’s some small time lawyer in a big city that doesn’t actually give a damn about him.

  It’s not like anyone’s gonna look twice at a guy beating up on a woman around here anyway. They’ll probably just carry on with their day, assuming I deserved it, I think bitterly.

  “I’m not sure who the fuck you think you are, but I don’t take too kindly to people touching my things.” Jasper’s voice makes my spine go rigid.

  The only thing worse than Mike showing up here is being trapped in this building now with both of the men I never want to fucking see again. Mike slides his hand to cup me between the legs, still not at all deterred by Jasper’s sudden appearance. Jasper must see that, too, because I hear him growl like a feral animal. I can’t actually see him from where I’m standing, blocked by Mike’s stout body.

  Just go away, I can’t handle both of you. Despite how territorial Jasper’s words just were, I can’t help imagining
a scenario where the two of them decide to tag team me.

  And honestly? I think I’d rather be dead.

  Mike’s voice goes an octave lower the way it does anytime he’s trying to intimidate someone. I know that voice all too well. “Fuck off, man. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

  The hands holding me in place are suddenly gone as Mike gets ripped backwards by the neck of his shirt. I’m so startled I don’t even move, my eyes going wide as Jasper shakes Mike hard enough to make him grunt.

  “Maybe you misunderstood me,” Jasper spits into his face. “Shay belongs to me. Put your hands on her again and lose them.”

  “No, fuck you, dude. I’ve invested a lot of money in this slut. I’d say that makes her mine.”

  “Funny, she didn’t mention you at all last night.”

  Mike tries to take a swing but misses as Jasper easily sidesteps him. Hearing the two of them go back and forth like I’m a thing and not a person lights me up from the inside out. I’m not stupid enough to dare try to get in the middle of them.

  I try to take a few steps toward the door, knowing if I could just get back inside the apartment that I might be safe. Or at least safer than I am out here, completely exposed while the two of them compare dick sizes.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike asks, the first to notice my movement.

  Jasper’s gaze sweeps over me, too. “Your ass isn’t going anywhere. You can stay right here and watch what the fuck happens to any man you let touch what’s mine. Maybe it’ll teach you not to do it again.”

  I’d watch you murder this particular man in cold blood, and it still wouldn’t stop me from fucking whoever the hell I want. I don’t dare say the words aloud, but his eyes narrow like I might as well have.

  “Enough of this shit,” Mike interrupts our brief staring contest. He jerks away from Jasper and raises the side of his shirt to show off the glint of metal sticking out of his waistband.

  Gun.

  Mike pulls the piece and waves it casually in Jasper’s direction. “This bitch and I have some unfinished business. So move the fuck along. And don’t you worry, you little street rat, I’ll make sure to give it to her real good for you.”

  I hear the moment the bone cracks, my stomach turning over painfully like I might actually be sick. I might have grown up around a lot of violence—and been the recipient of my fair share—but this is beyond what I’m used to. Mike’s arm juts out at a weird angle as he wails in pain. Part of me wants to revel in that, seeing him hurt the way he hurt me, but the bigger part of me is too terrified over seeing what Jasper is really capable of.

  Last night was child’s play.

  Jasper, now that he’s undoubtedly broken the guy’s arm using nothing but his hands, jerks the gun out of Mike’s hand and empties the clip and chamber like it’s nothing.

  At least it’s over, I think for a split second before Jasper takes the butt of the gun and whips it across Mike’s face. I can’t help myself, I gasp and turn away as blood starts to spurt out, his nose no doubt broken now, too.

  “It’s not even fucking worth it,” Mike snarls just before the front door closes.

  I realize a beat too late that it’s just me out here with Jasper now, no asshole with a big mouth left to play the buffer. I leap for my door, but Jasper’s a lot faster than I am. I misjudge him, too, because I thought he intended to push the door closed, but he pulls it open instead. Somehow, I didn’t consider that he’d be pushing his way into the apartment instead of fighting to keep me out of it.

  “I did not invite you in,” I protest as I try to brace myself against the doorframe to keep him from shoving me inside.

  He laughs as he gives me a nudge hard enough to dislodge me and force me into the apartment. He swings the door closed behind us as I watch helplessly. “Inviting me in is the least you could do after I took care of that asshole.”

  “I didn’t ask you to do that.” I wrap my arms protectively around myself. I am a little bit relieved to have Mike taken care of, but now I feel like I’m just waiting for Jasper to tell me what I owe him for the favor.

  He takes a step toward me, and I take two back.

  “Why do you keep making me chase you?” His eyes glint as if he doesn’t actually mind the chase so much.

  I can’t win with this guy. I go with honesty since verbal sparring only seems to keep him coming back for more. “I’m not making you chase me. I have no idea why you won’t leave me alone.”

  “I’m never going to leave you alone.” His face doesn’t hold a hint of amusement, those sinister words snaking down my back and bringing a cold chill with them. I don’t know what I did to make this guy so fascinated with me, but I just want it to stop. If I’d wanted to fall into bed with another man trying to own me, I’d have done it anywhere but here.

  Jasper takes another few quick steps toward me, moving faster than I can get away, especially when my back knocks painfully into one of the dining chairs.

  He reaches his hand out toward me, but I turn my cheek so he can’t touch me. He’s close enough for me to feel the air change as my rejection makes him tense up again, the way he did outside when Mike was taunting him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I give it to you the way you like it?” He thrusts his hand between my legs the way Mike did in the hall, and a strangled sound leaves my throat.

  “Stop.”

  I push his hand away, and he lets me, but only because he wants to snake his arms around my waist and hold me in place, instead. He pulls me flush against him.

  “What’s the fucking problem? Mad I hurt your little boyfriend?”

  I scoff hearing Mike described that way. I would never have called that man my boyfriend. I’ve never called any of them that. They’re just glorified johns, really. Or cheap ass sugar daddies. Just a means to an end and nothing more.

  “Tell me you don’t care about him. Tell me that guy means nothing.”

  “He means nothing. Less than nothing.” It’s the god’s honest truth, and it doesn’t take anything from me to admit it. I never liked Mike, only liked the warm bed and fully stocked kitchen he offered. And even those things turned out to cost too steep a price.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs.

  “Uhm.”

  “No one is allowed to hurt you.”

  His words confuse me, so much so that when his lips touch to mine this time, I forget to go limp the way I did last night. It doesn’t hurt that his touch is barely a whisper, his mouth giving me a gentle prodding to return the favor as he peppers my mouth with what feels like loaded kisses.

  I should not be kissing him back.

  I can’t seem to stop, though. Not until he hardens against me. His mouth starts to grow more insistent, his tongue pressing against the part of my lips, trying to force me to open to him.

  I jerk back like I’ve been burned, ignoring the pain from knocking into the chair again.

  For a second there, I forgot who I was dealing with. But this man is not the tender kisser he’s trying to make himself out to be. He’s obviously a master manipulator, though, because he nearly had me fooled just now.

  He might have saved me from Mike out there, but it wasn’t altruistic. He said it himself, he doesn’t take kindly to people touching his things. He doesn’t even see me as a person, just a game to be won.

  “Just yourself then?” I belatedly reply to his comment.

  “What?”

  “You said no one is allowed to hurt me, then what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He looks poised to argue, so I remind him about last night, which he seems to have conveniently forgotten. “You threatened to expose me in front of your friends, and then tracked me like an animal and grabbed my jaw hard enough to bruise me, you asshole.”

  His eyes flash and flicker from mine to my cheek when I mention the bruise. It’s not that obvious, a minor bruise really compared to what I’m used to, but it still isn’t okay. His eyes drop again, staring at my mouth this time. He reaches out
to run a finger over the spot where my lip is still healing from Mike’s last attack.

  He’s so gentle that it confuses me all over again. But I know that’s the point, so I pull away. He’s trying to gaslight the hell out of me right now. Bouncing between cruel and gentle as if that’ll be enough to confuse me and make me give in.

  Not happening.

  Mark my words, I will never give in to this man.

  “I can tell what you’re thinking, but you’re fighting a losing battle, Shay. I’m going to win.”

  “Win what?”

  “You.”

  I blanch for a minute. I have no idea what to say to that. I’m not sure what exactly gave him the idea that I’m some big catch worthy of being considered a prize, but he’s wrong.

  “I don’t want to be won. I want to be left alone while I figure out how the hell to get out of here again.”

  “Over my dead body,” he deadpans.

  I feel my eyes widen. This guy… he must be brain damaged or something. Or maybe he’s mistaking me for someone else. Which would be a much more viable option if he didn’t seem to take so much pleasure out of saying my name.

  My mouth opens to spew all kinds of vitriol about why he has no goddamn say in the matter, but the second my lips part my stomach lets out a growl loud enough to echo through the apartment. His jaw clenches like he’s mad at me about it. As if I could help my body’s natural protest to being starved for this long.

  “C’mon, I’ll feed you.” He holds a hand out to me, but I just stare at it. He switches tactics, his gaze trailing down as if he’s looking at me through my jeans. “Or if you’d rather, I could stay here and surely find something I’m interested in eating.”

  Fucking gag me.

  4

  Shay

  I sit grumpily in the passenger’s seat of Jasper’s car, my arms crossed over one of his button down shirts. Nothing I owned was acceptable to him as dinner attire, apparently. “Those tits are mine, I don’t want anyone else looking at them,” had been his actual words.