The Novel Free

Broken and Screwed 2



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Round two happened in the middle of the night, but it wasn’t with Tiffany. It was with her boyfriend and her sister.

After taking me downstairs, Jesse informed me that he didn’t want to hear it. Then he gave me a lecture on getting along with his roommates, when I tried to interrupt, he included the girlfriends as well. That’d been the last of our discussion and we remained in the basement for the rest of the evening. I’ll admit. It was nice. We studied in the living room section of his private basement/apartment. Cord came down for a while. He had finished and sent the girl home, whoever she’d been. He studied with us too before he went to bed. Kara had stuck her head over the stairs and said goodnight. And it wasn’t long until Jesse started rubbing at his eyes, so I took his hand, put both of our books away, and led him to bed.

Our lovemaking was nice and tender that night. Maybe it was because we were living together or because we were ‘out’, whatever that meant. We still hadn’t defined our relationship, but he said the words I longed to hear. I was family.

I hadn’t been family to anyone in so long.

As he fell asleep after, I gazed at him for a while. There was a heavy feeling over my chest. It was pushing me down, anchoring me in place beside him. I didn’t want to move, but I couldn’t sleep. My blood was singing, zipping around in me and I couldn’t stay. I’d wake him up. I’d done enough to him already so I snuck from the bed.

I couldn’t sit still in the living room of his basement so I went upstairs. As I was going to the main living room and searching for the remote controls, I heard the front door open again. This time no keys were tossed on the counter. A person was tossed on the counter. Moaning. Groaning. Gasping. A zipper was heard, I held my breath as I was about to hear my first  p**n o in living color. Live and 3-D.

Then I heard a female voice rasp out, “Jamie, oh god!”

“Hannah,” he murmured back as his voice grew muffled again.

Oh whoa. I was frozen in place. If they turned the light on, they’d see me. I’d be caught red-handed, but if I moved, they might hear me and I’d be caught for certain. I was still debating when Jamie pulled away from her, muttering, “Hold still, baby. I’m going to get some of the good stuff. I know where Hunt keeps his stash.”

When he went into the kitchen, she could see me. The foyer attached to the living room and I saw the shock on her. The horror came next. Guilt was the third and she clamped a hand over her mouth, a sob hitched in her tone. She slid off the counter, “Oh my god.”

“I got it.” Jamie came back to the foyer and turned the light on. He had a bottle of tequila in his hand.

Hannah couldn’t look away from me. I grew flustered and tried to cover myself. I’d forgotten that I only wore a pair of boy shorts and a tight tank top, no bra. Then he followed his gaze and the storm surged forward. His eyebrows furrowed together and his lips went into a tight line. His jaw hardened and he clipped out, “What the hell? Tatum didn’t wear you out? You better f**king get back to his room. And don’t you say a word of this to anyone.”

I opened my mouth, “Um—”

“I swear.” He took a menacing step towards me. “If you say one word, I’m going to cut you. I don’t give a shit whose bitch you are. I will make your life hell if you breathe one word. So keep your trap shut, you hear me, girl?”

“Jamie,” Hannah started. She slurred at the end.

Oh no. I knew what he’d done. I was revolted as I asked, “Is she drugged?”

He had turned to her, but his head rotated back to me. His massive bulk was a frightening sight when it was filled with hatred and violence, and all of that was directed at me. I shivered, but not from being cold. My shoulders lifted as I took a deep breath. Hannah was drunk. I could smell the liquor from her now. He couldn’t do this, not when she wasted. That wasn’t right.

Hoarse, I tried to speak up, “You can’t—”

“I can’t?” His voice went over mine. His chest started heaving and he clamped a hand over Hannah’s. She winced behind him, but he didn’t care. “You don’t know how long I’ve worked to get this piece of ass. You’re not going to ruin it for me.”

“I’m not going to ruin it?” I shouldn’t laugh at him, but I couldn’t stop. He was delusional and he was an ass**le. “You had to drug her?”

“She’s not drugged.”

“She’s drunk.” Pointing to the tequila in his hand, I added, “And you were going to keep her that way, weren’t you? I was going to do you a favor, but by all means—have at it. Take her to your room.” Wake the beast in his bed.

He scowled. “Are you messing with me?”

“Alex.” Hannah pressed her hands to her head. “I’m really drunk.”

“I know.” Oh god, do I know. “Maybe you should call Beth. She can come and pick you up.”

Jamie growled at me, “She’s not going anywhere.”

“And you’re not forcing her to do what I think you’re hoping to do.”

“Where the f**k’s Tatum? Why aren’t you screwing him? Use those legs for something useful and shut your trap. This is none of your business.”

My chest rose as my anger kicked up a notch. I was growing sick of his Neanderthal mentality. “It is my business. I’m here. You’re here. She’s here. She’s my friend. I know that she doesn’t want to have sex with you when she’s sober and she’s drunk right now so you do the math.”
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