There were very few moments in my life when I could definitely say that I had hit rock bottom. Right now, in this moment, I could definitely say I had hit rock bottom. I was stoned, drunk, and high on emotion, gripping a half-drunk beer; sitting in a gutter outside some pub. I had no one to call, and no one would be wondering where I was, so there was nothing stopping me from throwing back the remaining alcohol in the bottle.

I suppose that is the benefit of hitting rock bottom… you can’t fall any lower.

I was wiping my mouth when someone tapped on my shoulder.

“Leave me alone.” I grunted. I was at the point where I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care about the looks I was getting, or that I was interrupting the flow of the taxi rank.

“This goes against my better judgment, but you look like a rape case waiting to happen. Would you like a lift?”

It was his husky voice that made me turn my head around to look up at him. Tall, dark, handsome and screaming dangerous; yet he looked familiar.

“Do I know you?” I asked, frowning at him as he lowered himself to kneel in front of me.

“The name is Jackson.” He spoke slowly and immediately seemed to realize that I hadn’t made a connection, so he added “We go to the same high school.”

I nodded, but still couldn’t make a connection; hell, at this point of the night, I was lucky to be recalling my own name, which was…

“Amber, you alright?” Jackson placed a hand on my shoulder and my eyes snapped back open, stopping me from slipping into unconsciousness.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a few too many.” I took the hand he now lowered to offer me; when did he stand up?

I pulled myself up on to my bare feet; I had managed to lose my heels at some point during the night. “Thanks.” I smiled. Even in my drunken haze, I could tell that Jackson was dangerously good looking.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He spoke slowly again, as if I wouldn’t be able to understand him otherwise.

“Nope.” I waved my hand dismissing the idea. “I’m fine, and I will have you know I’m not as drunk as I might look.”

“Really?” He cocked his head to one side. From the expression on his face, he clearly didn’t believe me. “Because the smell from you makes me think you drank the bar dry.”

My expression changed as soon as I heard the judgment in his tone. “I had a bad day,” I snapped. He didn’t know. He couldn’t understand. I pressed a finger into his chest. “Don’t judge me handsome.”

“Handsome?” He chuckled at that. “Didn’t think you were capable of compliments, Amber.”

I suppose he had a point, but it wasn’t one I was going to confirm. “Go away, John.”

“It’s Jackson.”

“Then go away Jackson,” I corrected with a dry smile.

“You have a bad attitude.”

“And you’re not the first person to point that out.” He was far from it. People seemed to make it their personal mission to remind me of my bad attitude; it wasn’t my fault the world sucked. My attitude was simply a side effect of this miserable thing called life.

I waved down a taxi, but Jackson wrapped his hand around my wrist, stopping me from walking towards it.

“I’ll take you home.” His tone was soft, gentle… and was that slight concern I was sensing?

“Why?”

“Don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Wise thing to do.” He tilted his head to the side again, looking down at me. “I’m not going to hurt you Amber, and if I did I’m sure you could handle me.”

“You seem to know more about me than I do you.”

“That’s because I’m not self-absorbed.”

I took a step towards him, staring up into those dark eyes of his. “No one ever got hurt being self-absorbed.”

“Whatever you say Miss Shields.”

He knew my name, and my last name. Where did he say he knew me from again? Oh right… school or hell on earth as I liked to call it.

“Fine then handsome, you can take me home.”

“I’ve got a question first.” His eyes flickered to my lip. “Should I be hunting down the man that gave you that cut on your lip, or should I be asking what the other chick looks like?”

My lips curved into a smile. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. “I always think no question is a good question.”

I caught something flash across his face, but before I could read him, he gave a quick nod of the head, and I knew that was the end of the subject.

I would never tell a soul that it was Blake who had done this to me. I knew he regretted it as much as I was trying to forget about it. Our fights were always nasty, but this one had, by far, been the worst.

“Come on then, I’m parked around the back.”

I followed him, walking towards the darkly lit car park, as warning signs flashed through my mind. I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve run in the other direction, but I continued to follow him.

“So, where to?” he asked, opening the car door for me.

I couldn’t go home; I couldn’t risk my dad seeing me this way. I had no other choice. I had to go back to Blake. I silently prayed he had cooled off.

So, I gave Jackson the address, unsure of whether this would be my first or second mistake of the night; the first being getting in the car with him to begin with.

***

I got out of the car rather gracefully, or so I thought. As I wiped the dirt from my mouth after falling face forward on my second step, I began to rethink how graceful my exit actually was.

“You alright?” Jackson dropped beside me, placing an arm around my waist and bringing me back to my feet.

“Two left feet” I muttered, not meeting his eye. I hoped right then that I would never see this person again.

“You live here?” Jackson asked as he looked over at the house he was helping me walk up to.

“Yep.” No I didn’t. I just crashed here with my somewhat boyfriend, but I wasn’t about to tell this person that.

The front of the house was packed with cars, motorbikes and motors. It looked like an automobile junkyard, but it was this very look that kept people away, shielding the ‘family’ from prying eyes.

We reached the porch, and I grabbed the door knob. Letting go of Jackson, I leaned all my weight against the door. “Thanks for bringing me home.” I looked at him for the first time since I had embarrassed myself.

“You sure you’re safe here?” He gave the property a once over before looking back at me, visibly torn. “You know if you need somewhere to crash for the night, I can put up the cash for a hotel or something.”

I smiled for the second time that night. “What did I ever do to you to deserve such consideration?” I wanted to know. While I may not have known him, he seemed to know me, and I wasn’t a nice person. So, why was he bothering?

He exhaled slowly, and then met my eye with an expression I couldn’t quite read… “You’re the kind of woman who needs a man to protect her from herself, and clearly you haven’t found one yet, so I’m just giving you a helping hand.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be big on community service,” I bit back. He certainly didn’t look the part. The tattoos and that ‘pissed off’ expression would scare anyone with half a brain away. My judgment at this point was questionable though, so it was no wonder I hadn’t slammed the door in his face yet.

“Maybe I’m a sucker for a good looking woman.” The corner of his lips twitched in a half smile. “You know Amber, you’re bearable drunk.”

I chuckled and pushed his shoulder playfully “You know Jackson, maybe you do know me.”

For a split moment we shared a smile, an amused chuckle, and then silence fell between us, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of silence that usually compelled me to step into a man’s arms; this was sexual tension, and fuck me if I knew how it had come to this so suddenly.

“Night Amber.” Jackson took a step back, his eyes darting around one more time, before he turned his back to me and began to walk down the porch steps.

“Oi Jackson?”

He looked back at me over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“On Monday if I don’t remember this, and I’m a bitch, I want to apologize now.” I inhaled sharply and exhaled quickly. “You seem like a nice guy. Perhaps you should try and befriend me when there’s an actual chance of me remembering you.”

He smirked, nodded his head and walked away.

I wouldn’t remember it, but that was the first time Jackson Johnston had saved me from myself, and that was the night our love was born.

 

 

***

High school.

It was the dwelling of the stupid, the fake, and the occasional friend. It wasn’t like I didn’t like school; it was school that didn’t like me.

I locked my car, and slowly began to make my way towards the hell on earth.

Once again, I was starting a Monday with a headache, a cut lip, and a massive bruise on my arm. I wasn’t the normal teenager who spent her weekends shopping or playing some stupid sport. I spent my weekends doing what I loved - drinking and stealing.

I was more than happy to openly admit I was a young offender.

Now, closer to the school stairs, I untangled my black sunglasses from my long wavy black hair and pulled them down to my face.

I didn’t have to push through the crowd; people always made way for me, mainly because they were scared that if they didn’t back off, I would make them. I didn’t rush up the staircase; I was in no hurry to attend class.

I was a valued member of a group (some may call it a ‘gang’ but, personally. the mere word ‘gang’ to me, screamed pathetic. I referred to us as a family). We didn’t care about graduating from high school.

But then a memory of Blake and me fighting last week flashed through my mind, and I began to doubt just how long I’d remain a welcome member of this ‘family.’

I pushed a stationary middle school student out of my way in frustration. I heard him fall to the ground, but I didn’t acknowledge it.

Should have moved himself, I reasoned in my mind.

I got to the front yard and did a quick scan of my surroundings.

Happy, immature teens spanned the yard.

I could safely say I disliked pretty much the entire population that attended this pitiful place. Then my eyes landed on Jackson Johnston.

He was sitting on top of one of the picnic tables, arms crossed, hoodie pulled down over his head, and sunglasses on. His minions surrounded him; little morons. I could feel his stare through his sunglasses, but I didn’t pay attention to him, one because I had never spoken to the loser and two because he glared at people more than I did.

Jackson. Jax, his friends call him.

He always had this look about him; like he’d been fighting all night, or had just come out of a fist fight.

I got distracted when I spotted Rachel, leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, smoking. She caught my eye, flicked her long red hair to the side, and started walking towards me.

Rachel was the only person I spoke to in this place called public high school.

Even though my father was super rich, I didn’t let that factor into my choice of high school. I didn’t give a toss whether I attended a public or private high school. I was going to fail regardless, because I wasn’t into academic stuff, so I saved my father the trouble and the tuition of private school, and didn’t publicly air exactly what kind of wealth I came from.

“Amber.” Rachel spoke as she sucked lightly on the cigarette.

I nodded my head in acknowledgment, and she handed the cigarette over to me.

I sucked on it lightly, letting my eyes return to Jax’s picnic table, as we began to walk slowly towards the school building.

I could never fully understand why he even bothered attending. Everyone knew he had a lot of money, and, from the looks of it, he didn’t want to be here either.

“Losers,” Rachel muttered under her breath, clearly noticing my line of sight.

“Yep,” I replied, and, as we passed Jax’s table, I casually flicked my cigarette at one of the cheerleader’s heads.

I heard a high pitch shriek, followed by a moan, as we kept walking.

“Can’t you put out a cigarette right?” The angry little bimbo barked at me.

I just flipped the bird over my shoulder and kept pace with Rachel.

“So… any memories of the weekend?” Rachel asked knowingly.

“Nope, but I am sporting this highly fashionable cut lip,” I teased back, pushing the front door open with more force than it needed.

Students in the hall were caught off guard as the door slammed into the wall.

“Smooth.” Rachel mocked.

I shrugged my shoulders and we began to make our way up the corridor as the bell rang.

Everyone scattered and scurried to get to class, but Rachel and I maintained our languid pace.

And so, another day of high school had begun.

Pointing the gun at Ryan’s temple, I waited for him to beg for his life, but he remained silent. I couldn’t count how many lives I had ended. Only eighteen and I already had a record of a hardened criminal. Still, it didn’t bother me.

I was loyal to my club and my club brothers.

If that meant I had to get my hands dirty to stay loyal to them - I would, and I did.

I cocked my head to the side and ran my hand across the side of my face, which was swollen as a result of him trying to escape.

“Finish it Jax!” Cole snapped from beside me.

I met Ryan’s eyes one last time. His eyes were consumed with anger and hate towards me. The gun jerked back in my hand as I pulled the trigger.

Ryan’s blood splattered back onto the clear plastic, and his body dropped to the floor, lifeless.  

“Clean this up,” I said to the prospect and walked away. My job here was done. Another loose end finished with. I was waiting for the day I would regret my life decisions, waiting for the day when the guilt of all the lives I’d taken overcomes me.

So far, it hadn’t.

“The accommodation has been organized,” Cole informed me, matching my pace as we walked out of the empty shed.

The Shield brothers. Troy Shield. You wouldn’t want to cross him. He made a great President. Almost as ruthless as I was; but he didn’t nearly come close to the number of lives I had ended.

Cole Shield. He was always the first one to pull his gun; he didn’t believe in second chances. He liked two things - his ability to aim straight, and women. Out of all the Shield brothers, he had the worst temper.

Tyler Shield. Loyal and trustworthy. If there was one thing you could always count on when it came to any of the Shield brothers, it was loyalty and trust. Tyler was a ladies man, and when he wasn’t charming a woman, he was backing up one of his brothers in a fist fight.

Adam Shield. The one I never could describe properly. He was quiet compared to the rest. Still loved the club as much as his brothers, but he didn’t like blood. He didn’t get a thrill out of ending a man’s life, and, when he could, he avoids confrontation.

“Did Troy pull strings?” I asked as Cole kicked the shed door open. I couldn’t stay at one of my houses because I had to be with an upstanding citizen.

“Yeah, kinda. You’re staying with our father and little sister,” Cole informed me, as he straddled his bike.

“You guys have a sister?” I questioned as I saddled my own motor bike.

“Yep.”

“She won’t get in the way, will she?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. The last thing I needed was to put up with a brat of a little girl.

Cole let out a grunt.

“She’s never home according to dad. Does dance or something. She shouldn’t be a problem.”

I nodded my head and kick-started my motor bike.

“Have fun at school,” he yelled with cockiness to his voice, as I took off.

Time to drag my arse through another day of school.

Bloody parole board.

***

I pulled my sunnies down, seated on top of a picnic table, trying my best to stay awake. It had been a long and bloody weekend.

“I can’t believe you tapped her!” Ian exclaimed to Joey next to me.

“She was really good too,” Joey said proudly.

I didn’t bother joining in; I didn’t have the energy. I watched as a small middle schooler was pushed forcefully to the ground. I then saw Amber Shields shoot the kid a dirty glare as she walked away.

She didn’t seem to notice the kid cursing at her as she looked around the yard.

Man, that chick had an attitude problem. I recalled the other night when I’d saved her from herself. I doubted she would remember as she was on another planet when I’d helped her out.

I still can’t believe she lived in that place. What she wore, what she drove, all pointed to money, but, that trashy place I dropped her off to, said anything but money.

“Man, that chick is hot,” Joey muttered with lust in his voice.

Following his gaze, I noticed he was eyeing Amber.

“Yeah, I heard she was linked to some big time gangster,” Ian joined in. These two lived for women; when they weren’t bragging about their latest score, they were lining a girl up.

“Maybe that’s why she’s got that cut lip,” Joey commented.

I looked a bit closer, and noticed that Amber’s lip was broken and swollen. Looks like she copped a good one to the face. Nearly as good as the one I got this morning.

Though I doubted she was with a gangster, because if she was with a big time one, I would have seen her around.

She was talking to Rachel as she approached us; she looked uninterested and tired as she casually smoked a cigarette.

When she walked past us, she flipped the butt into Linda’s hair, which merited Linda’s shrill yell. It went right through me; I really didn’t need to hear that.

Standing up, I put my foot on the butt and squashed it with my foot.

“Your hair isn’t on fire, Linda,” I spoke as she was running her fingers through it, checking to see if it was.

“Thanks,” she mumbled softly and sent me a small smile.

I nodded my head, and walked towards the front doors of the school, cursing the bloody parole board once again for making it a condition of my bail to attend this damn place.

The boys walked in behind me, and I already knew that I was about to waste another six hours of my life here.

***

Amber

What was the point of history?

It was a pointless subject.

Regardless of what happened, I knew this subject ‘history’ would not play a part in my life.

So I was staring out the window, watching intently as the school gardener tried to mow over the rocks.

“Amber.” I heard my teacher’s voice and whipped my head to the front of the class.

Our teacher, Mr Woods, had his back to us and was writing on the whiteboard. I looked closely, and I noticed he was pairing students together, writing our names down next to each other.

I skimmed the list and stopped at my name, waiting for Mr Woods to finish writing my partner’s name. He finished and moved aside.

Jackson.

Just bloody great.

I glanced around the room, and spotted the pinhead in the middle, talking to one of his mates.

“Ok class, listen up” Mr Woods spoke loudly trying to get our attention. “So, as you can see, I have paired each of you up with a classmate. Your partner will be your partner for the following assignment. Some of you already know what you have to do – put together a written report on World War II, and then research one soldier from the war, which you will present in an oral report at the end of the month.”

I groaned inwardly.

“Go on then,” he continued. “Pair up, and complete the question sheet on my desk.”

All of a sudden, I was filled with more unreasonable hatred towards him. I hated Mr Woods.

He had just forced me into a whole month of one-on-one time with Jackson bloody Johnston.

What was he thinking pairing me up with that pinhead!

I angrily looked out the window, trying to remember what car Mr Woods drove so I could key some friendly advice into his paint work.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor brought my attention back to the classroom.

Jackson sat in front of me, a bored expression on his face.

I could honestly see why so many girls found him attractive, even with his cut lip and bruised jaw.

He had black hair that spiked up in every direction, and a defined jaw with a six o’ clock shadow, though it was safe to state that his most attractive feature was his piercing dark eyes. I had only been able to look at them closely a few times; Jackson usually kept them hidden behind sunglasses, but the few times I had made eye contact, my breath had caught in my throat; those eyes were hauntingly dark.

Pity he was such a pinhead.

“Jackson.” His husky voice introduced himself.

I let out a slow sigh.

“Seriously? You’re introducing yourself?” I questioned.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“You know me, and I know you,” I stated, pushing my sunglasses up to the top of my head.

“Think rather highly of ourselves, don’t we, Miss Amber Shields,” he said cockily.

I rolled my eyes. “Point proven,” I replied, and I leaned back into my chair.

A small smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, and then quickly disappeared.

“Just get the assignment done, and hand me what I need to read on D day. I don’t have time to deal with teachers breathing down my neck about stupid assignments so just make sure it gets done,” he ordered, pulling out his phone as it vibrated.

He just ordered me. I was gobsmacked for a moment. I watched as he frowned at whatever he was reading.

I let out a soft chuckle.

“Something amusing you?” he asked, not taking his eyes off his phone.

“Depends on what you classify as funny I guess,” I replied softly.

He didn’t respond.

I tapped my finger on the table, while his attention was on his phone.

Taking my eyes off the pinhead, I scanned the classroom; all partners in the room were immersed in discussions with each other.

I watched Linda, one of the cheerleaders, laugh and talk to one of her girlfriends. It looked like she had moved on from the episode this morning, when I had used her hair for an ashtray.

I leaned over to a neighboring desk and took a handful of pencils. No one even noticed, so engrossed were they in their discussion.

I lined the pencil up, aiming at Linda’s head, and flicked it.

It fell short.

Damn.

I lined another one up.

“And what do you find so amusing?” Jackson suddenly quipped.

“Huh?” I replied, bringing my attention back to him. He was still staring at his phone when I shot him a quick glance. My mind snapped back to our previous conversation. “Nothing really,” I replied, closing one eye while I lined up my next hit.

I flicked the pencil and it fell short again.

“Darn.” I muttered.

Jackson pulled up his chair alongside mine and picked up a pencil. “Explain,” he prompted, rolling a pencil in between his fingers.

“I won’t be doing the assignments,” I announced nonchalantly, closing one eye again while taking aim.“You will.”

“Nope. I won’t be. I don’t give a toss whether we pass or fail,” I pointed out, and flicked the pencil. This time it went too far.

Bloody hell, what was wrong with me today?

“Don’t have a very good aim, do you?” Jax teased.

I gave him a pointed look, and flicked the pencils one after the other, willing for one to hit her. As luck would have it, I missed her every time. Pencils littered the floor around her, but she was too slow to even notice.

“Watch and learn little girl,” Jax said,

“OUCH! What the hell?” she yelled, turning around to glare at me.

A soft chuckle left my lips.  “Nice,” I complimented him. Jax smirked and stood up. “I did you a favor, now do the assignments”. In that moment, the bell rang, and he began to make his way out of the classroom.

He didn’t even give me a chance to reply and push the point home. Oh well. I would not be doing the history assignment.

***

I lived with my father. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no other choice. Dad was a typical businessman, driven by money and status. He loved two things – money, and the things money bought.

He loved me, I knew that for sure, but he loved me in a particular way. His way of showing me how much he loved me was making sure my account never dried up; I wanted for nothing, and that I had an endless supply of high end cars.

I let out a slow sigh as I drove up to the mansion that housed just my father and I, and well, our endless staff.

I had lived here my entire life, and I still felt like it was more of a display house than a home.

I dragged my feet up the staircase to the entrance of the house. Another downside to this house was all the darn stairs.

The sound of the closing front door echoed throughout the house behind me. I threw my backpack in the direction of a side table and it missed, hitting a vase instead, and sending it crashing to the floor.

Great. I am not cleaning that up.

What was with my aim today?

“Amber?”

I knew that voice all too well. As luck would have it, dad was home early.

I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back very dramatically. Why did he have to be home so early? I stomped into the living room and slumped into the armchair across from him.

Like always, dad was sitting in his favorite armchair, drink in hand.

“What?” I asked, sounding tired and uninterested.

Dad looked up from his paperwork; his small glasses perched on his nose, still in his business suit. “We are having a guest move in with us for a while.”

My eyes snapped wide open. He hadn’t let anyone stay here since my brothers had left.

It had just been him and I.

“Why?”

What could possibly have compelled him to let someone move in, or even come and stay for a short while?

“A favor to your brothers,” he replied, sipping on his southern comfort.

“A favor to my brothers?” I repeated. That didn’t make sense. Why would my brothers want anyone to stay with us?

“He will be here soon,” I realized from his tone that the conversation had ended.

I stood up and left the room, walking towards the staircase. I noticed flashing lights and looked out the window to see a car approaching. I quickly took the stairs, two at a time, and ran to my bedroom.

As I closed my door softly, I heard our doorbell ring.

I was in no mood to meet and make conversation with whoever was moving in. My opinion of my brothers was very low, and any friend of theirs wasn’t one of mine - it was that simple.

***

It was a beautiful morning, and I skipped down the stairs two at a time. The chefs would have already planned breakfast. I was in the mood for some bacon, and, as I pushed the swinging doors to the kitchen open, the aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air.

My mouth watered at the aroma, until, in a split second, my world came crashing down around me.

No, it couldn’t be…

Standing there in just his shorts, no shirt was none other than… Jackson Johnston.

What was he…?

How could this…?

From what I could tell, he was just as shocked to see me as I was to see him. Seconds passed, minutes passed, and we just both stood there, staring at each other. Like maybe, just maybe, this couldn’t be happening!

What was he doing in my house, topless? Who the hell invited him here? How the hell did he get in? From the expression on his face, he was asking himself the same question.

How the hell was this happening right now?

Surely, he couldn’t be my brothers’ friend.

Could he?

“They said they had a sister. I was expecting a ten year old,” Jackson said under his breath as he just stared at me, gobsmacked. “I never put your last name with theirs,” he said out loud.

“So, you’re the friend of my brothers’?” I finally said something, after clearing my throat.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

My expression hardened immediately hearing that. “Well then, you are no friend of mine.”

And suddenly, I had lost my appetite.