Page 59 of Reckless
Let’s hope everyone had been so preoccupied with their own shit they’d neglected to see Chelsea and Deetra head upstairs with Dante.
Chapter Eighteen – Jaz
The week passed by, time refusing to slow down, even during times of craziness. Just as I suspected, nearly the whole school took the day off to go to Deetra’s and Chelsea’s funerals and services, but I didn’t—neither did Vaughn or Dante or Archer. None of us would’ve been welcome there, anyway.
All had been silent on the detective front. To say things were strained between Bobbi and I would be an understatement; she’d so firmly believed that I had nothing to do with Brittany’s death, and yet now that Chelsea and Deetra were dead too, it was almost like she was slowly changing her mind about me. Like, finally, my shiny newness had worn off and she was seeing me for the first time.
Me, the loser. Me, the outcast. Jazmine Smith, the freak who didn’t belong in Midpark. Bad things happened if you stuck around me long enough. Bobbi was finding that out.
To think, at my old school, in my old life, I used to think I was nothing special. Just a run-of-the-mill girl with average teenage problems, like a helicopter parent. Part of me would give anything to go back to those times, when things were simpler, but then the other part of me wanted to be selfish. Beyond all the murder and suspicion, I was happy. Truly, deeply happy with my guys.
It was early one Saturday when I sat at my desk, working on some homework in my pajamas. A soft knock bounced on my door, and I set down my pencil to turn and watch my mom walk in. She wore her going out clothes, her purse strung around her shoulder. Her blonde hair was straightened today, a bit of eyeshadow around her eyes.
“I need to run to the store,” she said. “I already called Jacob. He’ll be here in a minute. I’ll wait for him to get here, and then I’m out. Do you want me to pick you up anything special?” Even though she worked for a man who was more than rich enough to pay to have groceries and all that stuff delivered, my mom liked going. It got her out of the house, and I think it reminded her of old times.
Ollie was at work, which was why Mom made a big deal about waiting until Jacob got here to leave. The man had put a lot of his focus on me lately, but he did have some pre-existing clients he couldn’t just forget about. Plus, you know, unlike some people in this town, Oliver Fitzpatrick worked for his excessive amounts of money.
Shaking my head, I told her, “No, thanks. I’m good.” In the past, I might’ve asked for some candy or something, but my sweet tooth had taken a backseat while everything was happening around here.
“All right,” Mom spoke, leaning in the doorframe and looking quite sad. “Call if anything happens.”
“I will.” I gave her a smile, and she left, closing the door behind her. You’d think pretending everything was okay would get easier the more you did it, but it didn’t. Mom and I were fumbling around—Mom more so. I hated that I’d dragged her into this.
Ironically enough, none of this was even about Dad and who he was. This was all about Midpark, about me stepping on someone else’s toes, and them trying to get some payback. I had no idea who the hell I’d pissed off so much as to elicit multiple murders as a response, but apparently I did.
I was measured in turning back to my desk, my eyes glazing over the math homework open on my desk. Math sucked no matter what school you were in, that much I knew. Equations, shapes, angles, all that shit—I hated. Really, I did. I didn’t plan on being an architect or a tax accountant, so why the hell did I have to learn all of this stuff? The simple basics of addition and subtraction would probably be enough to get me through life, no matter what my math teachers said.
Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I got back to work.
That was my plan, to power through my homework, but soon enough my door opened again. I thought it was my mom, coming back to tell me she was leaving, but when I heard the heavy footsteps, I realized I was wrong.
Strong hands snaked over my shoulders, leaning around me as the chest they were attached to grazed the back of my head. “Math,” Jacob’s rough voice hissed. “I fucking hate math.”
I assumed since he was here and standing so close to me, Mom was already gone. My eyelids fluttered shut, and I let myself get lost in the heat radiating from his chest and into me. I could smell his aftershave, and I wondered if he’d taken some time this morning to shave that normally scruffy face.
Detective Wilde had spoken to Jacob, and from what I understood, they knew each other from his time on the force three years ago. Whatever Jacob said, it sounded like Detective Wilde was all but forced to look for another culprit to the crime and not try to pin it on me, like last time.
“I hate it, too,” I muttered, opening my eyes as I turned in my seat, a slow grin forming on my face as I saw that he did shave. Mmm. A shaved Jacob was always something special, and right now I had him all to myself—and I would for at least an hour. Maybe more.
I’ve never had Jacob in my room. It was…kind of hot, imagining him pinning me down on my bed and making wild love to him on the sheets my mom would eventually unknowingly wash. Call me kinky.
My hand went for his face; I couldn’t help it. A shaved Jacob was such a rare occasion, and I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d done it. Did he know he’d have me alone and prepare that face for duty? I could definitely think of a few things I could do with that freshly-shaven face…
“You’re cute when you shave,” I whispered, my eyes falling to his lips. “You should do it more often.”
His chest rumbled, and I knew what he was about to say. He wasn’t the kind of guy who took much pride in his appearance; the ragged, scruffy look he normally wore was a look he wore well, though. “I’ll keep that in mind” was what he said, and I knew that was basically him telling me to fuck off, but maybe he’d consider it if I begged him.
Mr. Grumps did have a soft spot for me, you know. If I batted my eyelashes and acted sweet, he’d fall to his knees and do whatever it was I wanted. When he’d told me I had him wrapped around my finger, it was true. I didn’t realize it until recently.
I’d use my power for good. Mostly.
His arms were still around me, still leaning on my desk and cornering me in my seat, so I couldn’t get up. I didn’t really want to, not yet. His face was so close to me it was almost blurry, his hazel eyes focused on me. If a dozen sexy, naked women ran through this room, I didn’t doubt those eyes would remain on me.
Jacob, Vaughn, Dante…I’d never question their loyalty. I felt bonded to them, as they were to me. Now, Archer, on the other hand, we’d get there in time.
“What are we going to do in this big house, all alone?” I asked, my heartbeat already starting to speed up in my chest. Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom. It’s ridiculous how much Jacob could affect me, simply by being near. The man didn’t even have to touch me, though when he did touch me, it was even better. Thigh-clenching to the extreme.
“Fuck the rest of the house, we don’t need it,” Jacob murmured. His gaze traveled downward, to my lips, dipping lower to my chest. I wore my pajamas, but the fabric was thin.
