Chapter 9 (Jackson)
The last thing I should be doing right now is showing up to meet a girl who's made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me.
I shouldn't be pursuing this. I shouldn't be hopeful that she'll finally let me in.
I shouldn't be trying to save her from herself. Lord knows, I'm the furthest thing from a hero and there's a good chance I'll only hurt her in the end if she ever finds out the truth about me.
No, I shouldn't be doing any of those things...but...I just can't stop myself.
Another hour goes by and I glance at my watch. Tyrone told me she said 12. Maybe he got the time wrong and she meant 2?
If she meant 2, I'll be cutting it close to training time, but the gyms not that far from here.
I order another water and look out the window. There's no sign of her. I look at my watch again. 2:25pm. It's obvious that she's not coming and I've been stood up.
With a sigh, I stand up and throw some money on the table before I leave.
***
My muscles ache like no one's business after a grueling workout, all I want to do is go home and fall into bed.
Tyrone's at the bar across from the gym, hoping to strike it lucky with his latest conquest. I considered joining him, but decided against it.
I haven't exactly been in the greatest of moods today. I stick my key in the door and feel a hand tap my shoulder. The touch is light and the hand is soft.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling even more annoyed now that I have to deal with her. “Never gonna happen, Lou-Lou. Try Ricardo's door,” I growl.
My statement comes out much harsher than I intended. I briefly consider apologizing but think better of it. Better to just let her think I'm a dick, maybe she'll finally get the picture.
I hear the sound of a throat clearing and I spin around.
A pair of red and puffy hazel eyes meet mine.
“I'm sorry about not showing today, Jackson. I forgot I made other plans and I couldn't get out of them,” Alyssa's now raspy voice greets me.
I force myself to ignore the current state she's in. I force myself to look right past the sadness in her eyes, and the fact that she's obviously upset.
I force myself not to think about what those other plans she had may have entailed and the pang of jealousy that snags me.
But mostly, I force myself not to care anymore, because every time I do; she only ends up pushing me away and making me feel like an asshole for wanting to be her friend.
Her friend, right- my inner voice taunts.
“You came a long way for something that could have been done over the phone.”
“You know I don't have your number,” she whispers when I turn back around and open the door.
“Yeah, well, who's fault is that,” I say before I shut the door behind me, with her on the other side of it.
A small knock follows. I pull off my sweatshirt and ignore it.
The knocks increase in both sound and speed. Going from cautious and unsure to impatient and angry now.
And for some reason, that's what really sets me off.
I swing the door open so hard the walls vibrate.
She pushes past me with an angry scowl on her face, finally stopping in the living room.
I inhale sharply and continue after her until she does something that entices me, confuses me, and unleashes a fury inside me.
She takes off her shirt.
She's about to start undoing her pants when I reach over and halt her. “What the hell are you doing, Alyssa?”
She looks down and gives me a small shrug. “Well, I tried apologizing to you and you slammed the door in my face,” she says, her arms hanging loose in defeat.
I raise an eyebrow, not understanding her thought process. “And you thought stripping for me would accomplish what exactly?”
Her cheeks flush. “I'm not sure. I figured I'd just give you what every other guy always wants from me.” She looks down. “Go ahead, Jackson. Take me, use me. Be as rough as you want, just try not to destroy me when it's over.”
I don't know what irks me more. The fact that she thinks she's nothing more than a pack of gum to be passed around and enjoyed by all, despite never actually enjoying it herself. Or the fact that she just grouped me with every other guy she deals with.
I take a step closer to her and lift her chin. “You're too busy destroying yourself, Alyssa. How could anyone else?”
I reach for her arms and lift them above her head. Her chest heaves and I can't help but take in the purple lace of her bra, barely covering her nipples, straining against her breasts and just begging to be released. She sucks in a breath and closes her eyes when my thumb brushes her cheekbone before dipping lower, skimming over that adorable dimple on her left cheek. Which seldom makes an appearance.
She probably thinks I'm about to have my way with her. The goosebumps grazing her delicate flesh and the way her pulse is beating erratically against the pad of my thumb lead me to believe that's what she wants me to do.
And fuck if that doesn't make my own heart speed up. But then I would be like all the others, I remind myself.
Instead, I pick up her shirt and pull it over her head. Her eyes open, uncertainty etched in her features. “Why?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn't you?”
I lead her to the couch and drape a blanket over her. “Because I'm not gonna be another notch on your bedpost who takes advantage of your self- destruction.” My voice drops down to a whisper, “And because one day I failed to notice when someone else I cared about was in pain ...and not a day goes by that I don't regret it.”
My hand instinctively lands on my chest and I sigh.
“So, where did you end up going today?” I ask.
I turn my head to look at her when I don't hear a response. Her mouth is parted slightly, her eyelashes fluttering against closed lids, the rise and fall of her chest falling in sync with my own breathing.
I glance at the clock. Tyrone will be home soon...and he might be bringing company.
She looks so peaceful, I don't have the heart to wake her. I gently lift her up, being as careful as I can and carry her into my bedroom. I remove her shoes, flick off the light on the nightstand, and turn to leave.
Her hand reaches for mine. “Stay. Please stay,” she whispers before drifting off again.
I crawl into bed and curl up beside her, my hand never leaving hers.
***
“No! Daddy! Please, no!”
Her screams are the equivalent of waking up to a shotgun going off. She's trembling so hard, I'm convinced she must be having a seizure.
I jump up and flick on the light beside the bed, her screams quickly turning into muffled cries. I gently nudge her, but she doesn't wake. “Alyssa, you're okay. It's just a bad dream,” I say. I hold her by the shoulders and try a little harder this time, and finally the shaking stops and her eyes open wide.
She looks around the room, confusion marring her face briefly before she realizes where she is. “Oh god. I'm so sorry.” She sits up in the bed. “This is beyond embarrassing.”
Her eyes dart to the door and she makes to stand but I gently pull her back to me. I'm all too aware of how much of a flight risk she is and she's not running away from me this time. Especially in this state.
“This happen often?” I ask.
Her head falls against my chest and she lets out a deep breath before whispering, “Not really. Only when I'm exhausted. Usually, I don't allow myself to sleep that soundly because I know what the end result will be.”
That's when it sinks in that it wasn't just a random bad dream, but a reoccurring nightmare. I tip her chin up to look at me. “What happened, Alyssa? Trust me enough to let me in.” I kiss her forehead. “Please.”
She fidgets and squirms out of my arms. Just when I think she's about to bolt, she looks at me and does the one thing I've been waiting for since I met her.
She drops her armor and opens up to me.