Page 11 of Marked By my Stalker
Jack opens the truck door and steps out, his gaze hard on Brick as he steps forward. “Do we have a problem?”
“No, old man. What about you? You like creeping on young girls?”
My throat tightens.
Jack doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. He steps toward Brick, slow and steady.
“I said,” Jack repeats, voice low enough to make the air colder, “do we have a problem?”
Brick scoffs, but it’s all bark. “No, man, but you should know… the bitch doesn’t put out. She’s saving it up like she’s fucking gold.” His voice contorts when he says the words, like I’m a joke, like I’m a freak, like that’s the reason he went and slept with that other girl. My stomach churns with a rage filled embarrassment I’ve never felt before.
I glare toward him, but I only see his face for a fraction of a second before Jack has him pinned up against the back wall of the building. “You apologize right the fuck now.”
“No,” Brick laughs. “What are you gonna do, punch me? A grown fuckin’ man punching some kid on campus, with security tw—” Jack lands a solid punch against Brick’s jaw then drops his hand and glances back at me. “Get in the truck.”
I could feel bad for Brick, but there’s a sick sort of thrill that rolls over me instead. I’m pretty sure that means I could use some therapy, but I opt for Jack’s truck instead.
He lands his hand on the small of my back as he guides me inside, the scent of pine and dark musk surrounding him as he helps me.
I should feel shame, anger, sadness that Brick slept with that other girl. We were together for eight months. But the truth is, I knew our relationship wasn’t meant to be. And now… I feel free.
I glance toward Jack as he settles up into the driver’s seat of the truck. His knuckles are already bruising, and the silence between us feels like it’s holding its breath. He shifts into gear, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on the console, close enough to touch if I wanted to…which I don’t.I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice how big and calloused they are. How steady they look amidst the chaos left behind. How the ink wraps around his knuckles and onto the back of his hand. I flick my gaze up and stare straight ahead as the truck pulls out of the lot, my heartbeat syncing with the hum of the engine.
I catch myself watching the way his forearm flexes as he turns the wheel, and the way his jaw tightens when the road curves sharply. It’s not just that he’s steady, it’s that I feel steadierwithhim. I have since our conversation last night. It was like for the first time in forever someone actually heard me.
God, I need to stop whatever these thoughts are. He’s just a guy. A hot, older guy who’s got all his shit together, who stood up for me, who listens when I talk.
Turns out, that’s what I’m into.
No! That’s not what I’m into! It can’t be what I’m into!
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, stomach clenched, half expecting Penny to text with fresh drama about the scene on campus from earlier, but it’s my mom with a barrage of pictures.
“Everything okay?” Jack glances toward me then back at the winding road.
“Yeah, it’s my mom. She’s going through old pictures today so I’m getting them in droves.” I pull one up of my dad and I when I was first born and flash it toward Jack, thinking maybe he’d like a hit of nostalgia, but I’m wrong.
He nods and groans low as though he’s not interested in the picture. Further proof that he’s not interested in me. A reminder that it’s silly that I’m into him.
It’s for the best. I’m not sure what kind of psychopath looks at pictures of her dead father while lusting after his buddy, anyway. Jack is clearly dodging a bullet with me.
“Yeah,” I continue, desperate for deflection, “I’m not sure why she does this. It’s so hard to think about my dad. Pictures just make it worse.”
I click off the message and glance at Jack, attempting to keep my gaze on his face, instead of his muscles, but it’s no help. The man is attractive. “Thanks for everything back there. I’m sure you didn’t have that on your bingo card today.”
He laughs under his breath. “Nope. Sure didn’t, but happy to help.”
And then… silence.Silence for what seems like forever.
Maybe he doesn’t want to talk anymore. Maybe he’s annoyed about this whole trip now. Maybe spending time with me feels like a chore to him. I mean, technically it is a chore to him.
I drag in a heavy breath and focus my gaze on the way the light filters through the pines. I can’t lust over some man my dadcalled a friend. I can’t get caught up in the way his voice dips when he talks or what his laugh feels like in my chest. I can’t think about the way my heart stumbles every time he glances my way or how it tightens when his hand nearly brushes mine.
None of that matters. I’m here to take pictures. That’s all. It has to be.
Chapter Six
Jack
