Page 16 of Indiscretion: Reckless Sin
“Don’t Dex. I’m your waitress, let me do my job.” I plead with my eyes, not wanting the attention I’m now getting. He lets go and nods once, turning back to his adoring fans, leaving me to do what I asked of him. I don’t let myself dwell on how much it hurts as I walk away.
***
“Are you free tonight after work?” Dex asks me as I hand out everyone’s checks.
“Nope.” My voice is clipped, showing way more of my irritation and jealousy than I want it to so I soften my tone a little and then elaborate. “My volunteer job starts as soon as the clock strikes eight when I’m done here.”
“You can’t take a night off?” Ezra questions.
“I, uh, did last night after running into you so unexpectedly.” My nerves become apparent when I start fidgeting with my pen and I start oversharing. “I guess you could say I didn’t exactly handle it well. Plus, I’ve got a regular caller. I need to make amends for not being available at our normal time,” I tell them. Clamping my lips shut, I look down at the floor. God forbid I word vomit any more.
“And you do this every single night?”
“Every night for the last few years, yeah. It’s, um, well, it’s really important to me,” I murmur.
“Who do you volunteer for?” Cyan asks, seeming genuinely curious.
“You Matter.It’s a suicide hotline.” I avoid eye contact when I tell them, not wanting to see the questions in their eyes that I know they’ll have. I’m not sure it’s my place to share my mom’s history with depression, nor do I want them digging into my own issues or why everything has affected me so much.
When I hear a sharp intake of air, I look up and see Nix looking pale as his eyes meet mine. “That’s one lucky company, to have someone who cares so deeply volunteering for them.” His voice a rough whisper.
I don’t know what happened to this man since we’ve been apart, but something tells me that if I’m ever lucky enough for him to open up to again, I’ll break for him.
“Look, I don’t want to take you away from something as important as that, but it’s sort of an on-call gig if I understand it right. Can you do it while you’re out with us?Please.Ainsley James, we just want a chance to prove to you we’re worth some of your time.” There’s so much sadness and hope looking back at me that I know I won’t deny Phoenix London a single thing at this moment.
“All right. I’ll meet you out front at eight.” My voice comes out on a shaky exhale. It’s clear how uncomfortable I am, but something inside of me can’t let these guys go again.
I try to justify it with the knowledge that most of my interaction with Jax will be via messenger anyway. I’ll keep our call short tonight and tell him messaging will work better so I can interact with others tonight as well since I missed last night. It won’t be a lie exactly, but I know I’ll feel like crap about it either way. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I just hope looking back at my past doesn’t ruin my future.
“You won’t regret it Ains.” Dexter says before standing and dropping a kiss on my forehead, snapping me out of my internal struggle. When the rest of the guys follow suit, leaving me with small kisses on my forehead and cheeks before walking away, I can’t help the sigh that escapes me, because I already regret it. I’m going to get my heart broken again. I just hope I’ll survive it a second time.
Chapter Thirteen
Phoenix London
TwoYearsEarlier…
“What the hell, Nix!” A garbled angry voice reaches my ears but I can’t get my eyes to open to see what’s going on. Such a shame, that, because whoever’s yelling my name sounds like they have something really important to say. Too bad I don’t care. I stopped caring years ago when my girl left. Not a word from her, she just up and disappeared one night. It broke my pathetic teenage heart and I’ve never recovered. I don’t think any of us have.
I don’t even want to, as crazy as that may be.
Holding onto this agony is the only thing I have left of her. When things feel too numb, I have ways of bringing back the pain. When things hurt too much, I have ways of dulling myself to feel more numb. The cycle is unhealthy to be sure, but no one else gives a fuck so why should I?
“Wha—?” I try to blink fast enough that things start coming into focus, but it’s no use. My mind is mucked up and cloudy to concentrate. I have no idea who’s trying to talk to me.
My mouth is dry and tastes like ass, making me feel nauseous at the thought. Pain lances through me from head to toe and I know that I’m about to be in for much worse as my hangover starts to come into its own.
What can I say? The highs are high and the lows are fucking low. It’s why I do my best to never reach the bottom of the barrel. It won’t be pretty if I ever do.
Admittedly, I may have overdone it a little tonight. I needed something to make me feel—anything really. So I got a little party going. I’m not sure who’s here exactly. I lost track after some Ainsley look alike started sucking me off while I ran my favorite blade down my arm. She looked so frightened when I first started, but then the molly we took kicked in and she took my cock like a good girl.
She was beautiful, her tears mixed with small droplets of my blood as I grabbed her face and shoved my dick as far down her throat as it would go, then a little farther still until she gagged and choked.
It didn’t take much for me to visualize a totally different blonde on her knees before me, begging forgiveness for being cruel enough to leave me all alone—so. Fucking. Alone. Not long after that, I pulled my dick out and jacked it until cum covered my bloody hand.
Not bothering to clean up, I used my other hand to grab a bottle of cheap vodka and got lost in it, barely taking the time to offer a “fuck off” to the woman that meant nothing to me. She wasn’t the real deal and my use for her was done.
That’s the last thing I remember until right this very second as the voice I heard starts getting well and truly angry, and much closer than it was before. For a moment I think I hear the voice of my girl, but shake that off quickly, it’s impossible. I’m brought back to life more clearly with an unexpected slap to my face. The sting pulling me from the last vestiges of whatever substance induced coma I attempted to fall into.
