Page 25 of Jett

I open my eyes and stare at the armchair by the bed. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. I can make out his silhouette in the dark. I could find him anywhere.

“Jett?” I sit up and reach out to turn on the lamp.

“Don’t,” he says.

I suck in a deep breath and lean back against the headboard. “What are you doing in here?”

“I been asking myself that same question for an hour now.”

“What time is it?”

“Late.” He chuckles. “Or early, dependin’ on your definition.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because no matter what I fuckin’ do, I can’t stay away from you, darlin’.” He rises, wobbling a little on his feet as he rights himself. He moves closer to the bed and I stiffen because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to say no to him if he touches me. “What did you dream about, Angel?”

Did I cry his name in my sleep? Did I moan, touch myself, or beg him to make love to me? I swallow hard and dart out my tongue to wet my lips. “Nothing good.”

His dark chuckle settles over my skin like a midnight shroud. He inhales slowly and reaches out, tracing a clumsy finger over my shoulder. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of you waiting in bed for me?”

“I’m not ... I’m not waiting for you—”

“No, I guess you’re not, are ya? Not when my brother Grim is warmin’ your bed.”

I clench my teeth. He’s drunk, possibly high if he thinks anyone is warming my bed but me. I’ve never been more alone, but he can’t say the same. “Go back to your wife, Jett.”

“You know, sometimes I wish she’d just fuckin’ vanish—a freak spa accident, a jilted lover, or a fuckin’ bullet to the head.”

I stiffen. I wish I could see his face, study it in the moonlight, but there are no windows in the clubhouse. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I really do.

“What is it you want from me?”

“What do I want?” he slurs, getting up in my face. The whiskey on his breath and venom in his voice force my heart into my throat. He slams his lips down on mine in an angry kiss that I don’t reciprocate, but I’m breathless all the same when he pulls away. “Everything. I want everything.”

Then he releases me and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

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