Jagged Harts, page 4
My eyes trail over her, taking in her perfectly crisp outfit that no doubt cost several hundred dollars, perfectly glossy hair and her fancy ass purse that no doubt has a shiny black credit card inside with her daddy’s name on it. She is the perfect southern belle princess no doubt. We couldn’t be more different if we tried which only solidifies my want to be left the hell alone.
I’m surprised when she takes my brash attitude in stride and shrugs simply. The meek scared girl from the other night quickly falling away before my eyes as a strong confident woman takes her place.
“I’m not sure. I don’t judge people based on appearances, unlike some people,” she says, giving me a knowing look before continuing. “But do you look like you are in desperate need of some fun? Definitely.”
Narrowing my eyes, I shoot her a murderous glare in return. Instead of blanching or running for her life like she should be doing, she meets my glare head on with an unimpressed raised eyebrow as she seemingly waits for me to respond.
I have to admit, having her point out the fact that I judged her before she could even get a chance to judge me makes my stomach twist. I’ve been on my fair share of judgmental comments and looks just because of where I lived or who my mother was. It’s a shitty ass feeling and suddenly, I feel like a huge fucking asshole.
“Sorry,” I mutter under my breath, so softly that I doubt she could hear it.
She shrugs, seemingly completely unbothered by me as she happily munches on her rabbit food before delicately dabbing at her mouth with her napkin.
“So, are you coming?”
At first it sounds like the worst thing in the world, but the way this girl is handling my less than friendly attitude has me mildly impressed and slightly curious. Despite our initial encounter she seems to ooze this laid-back confidence that I really dig. The way she claps back at me has me giving a little respect for her which is way more than I can say for every other girl that I have met since I came here. And who can’t love a potential victim kicking her assailant in the dick?
Fuck it.
“Sure. Why not?”
Mckayla smiles before she scribbles down her name and number on a piece of paper as she slides it over to me.
“Here is my number. Shoot me a text and we can ride together.”
Before I can respond, she is already out of her seat and sashaying across the cafeteria to a table filled with guys, making herself right at home with a wide smile and flirty eyes. The guys all practically drool on her as her attention flits to each guy equally. She has the whole table practically eating out of the palm of her hand.
Damn. I am actually kind of impressed. Usually, people that go through what she did just the other night withdraw at least for a little while. Not this girl though. She seems to not be letting what happened bothered her or change her life any more than it has to.
Good for her.
I think I might actually like that girl. I pocket her number before I turn back to my book. Look at me, making friends and shit.
CHAPTER
FIVE
AUBREY
My life has been consumed with work, class and very little sleep this week. I know it will all pay off in the end but damn, I am fucking exhausted. As much as I would rather be in bed right now, somehow I instead find myself riding in a hot pink Jeep that would make Barbie jealous as Mckayla drives us to the clay banks.
Mckayla rapidly burns through topics the whole way, occasionally asking me questions that I am pretty sure are rhetorical. I look out the window and look down at the side of the car before I chuckle to myself. I really have never seen such an obnoxious looking car in all my life. McKayla must be able to guess what I am thinking because she just shrugs as she takes another turn.
“Daddy insisted that I drive a Jeep and since he wouldn’t get me the little Miata that I had my heart set on, we compromised on a custom paint job.”
Yeah, custom. It looks like the body shop dipped the damn thing in Pepto Bismol. I prefer my ’97 Ford Aspire, personally. When I offered to drive, Mckayla wrinkled her nose at the sight of Betty like it offended her to be in the same parking lot as her. Sure, Betty wasn’t fresh off the showroom floor or anything, but she is 25 years old, a classic some would say!
Okay no one would call a ’97 Ford Aspire a classic, but still.
I mean, yeah, the red paint is bubbled and chipped. And I have a black passenger side door since it’s all I could find from the scrap yard after some asshole t-boned me last year. The tires are all different brands and different ages since I used to get flats every other week on the shit roads back home. And hey, the engine ticks once in a while like an impending bomb but that’s it. Besides the horrific cranking noise that she makes when she first starts that sounds like it's better suited for background music in a horror movie. Other than that, she is in great shape and has yet to let me down.
I bought Betty with my own money when I was 16. I was sick of taking public transportation and rideshares hit the bank account way too hard. She was the one thing that I had in this world that was actually worth something and all mine. She made it the whole trip out here just fine, and I’m sure that I will be able to get at least another five years out of her. And you can bet your ass that I am gonna milk her for all that she is worth.
I snap back to reality, catching the tail end of a story Mckayla was telling about how she won Miss Teeny Alabama when she was 6 and continued competing up until she came to college. It makes sense, the girl is stunning.
“So, what about you? What is your story?” She asks.
I turn and cock my head to the side as I look at her. Why is everyone around here so fucking nosey? Shrugging off her question, I look out the window again.
“No story. Just your average college freshman.”
“Hmm, why do I find that hard to believe?” Mckayla wonders out loud.
“Think what you want,” I snap a little too harshly.
Instead of getting offended at my aggressive change in attitude, she chuckles lightly.
“Alright, so backgrounds are firmly off the table for discussion. Works for me.”
At least we can agree on something. We drive for a few more minutes before she speaks quietly.
“I’m going to report Kyle.”
I turn to look at her. So, the rapist has a name. I think I will just keep calling him rapist in my head though, it fits better.
“I don’t want you to file a witness report. I don’t want you to get in trouble for saving me, but I just wanted to tell you. I wasn’t sure if I was going to at first because it will probably turn into a big thing once my parents hear about it, but I don’t want him to try to do it with another girl who isn’t lucky enough to have you walking by.”
I nod my head in agreement.
“Guys like him will never stop. They are rotten to the fucking core and deserve to be locked up or shot. But everyone has gotten so fucking touchy with capital punishment so I guess locked up will have to do.”
A bubbled laugh escapes her as she nods. “Knowing daddy, as soon as he finds out, he will be cleaning his gun before paying Kyle a visit, more than likely before a trial can even begin.”
“You got a good dad then.”
She smiles and nods before she throws the Jeep into park on the side of the road, and she pushes her movie star sunglasses on top of her head and turns to face me.
“You ready?”
I nod and slide out of my side, reaching back to grab my towel and sunglasses. Mckayla struts over to me, looping our arms together before she starts dragging me away. I wait for the normal freak out to come from the contact since I usually cannot stand being touched, but for some reason it doesn’t come.
Mckayla must have stripped off her swimsuit cover at some point because now she is only wearing a white bikini that looks like a 10-year-old attacked it with a bedazzler paired with wedged heel sandals. If she was hoping to attract every male eye within a five-mile radius, then she couldn’t have picked a better outfit.
My bathing suit is much plainer in comparison. It’s black with not much detail to it. My mother may have never given me much but the one good thing that she did give me a decent sized chest. I have a full C cup or a small D which makes my bathing suit look extra nice. Normally I would never wear something as revealing as a bathing suit in public, at a water hole or not, but I am really struggling to adjust to this humid heat and couldn’t bear the thought of jeans, so bathing suit it is.
I don’t even know what I am doing here, honestly. I can’t remember the last time that I hung out with another girl. Maybe 7th grade. Sarah Brennon? Yeah, that sounds about right. Girls don’t typically like me and that is alright because I have not been a fan of the ones that I have met. I have never focused too much of my life on trying to be friends with anyone really. It is too hard to maintain a friendship with anyone when I had to take care of myself first and foremost. God knows no one else was going to.
“Hey ladies!” A voice in the distance shouts.
We both spin around to see Cole bounding up to us wearing only a pair of swimming trunks and a goofy smile. His skin is sun kissed which only enhances his bright blue eyes. I had a feeling the guy was in good shape, but damn. I can’t help but let my gaze fall over his broad shoulders and drop down to see his defined chest and toned abs. He looks surprisingly good and based on the look on his face I would say that he knows it too.
“Hey, darlin’. I didn’t know that you were going to be here,” he says, sweeping me into a tight but brief hug.
When he pulls away his eyes flick to my face, seemingly looking for any sign of distress. I am just as thankful as him that I haven’t had a freakout since that first day. Look at me being all normal and shit.
“Mckayla, this is Cole. Cole, this is Mckayla,” I introduce, doing my best to get Cole’s inquisitive stare off of me.
“Well, hello there,” Mckayla purrs as she does her own inspection of his body before settling back on his face.
“Hey,” he replies, giving her a polite smile but keeping his eyes on her face the whole time before he turns his attention back to me.
Mckayla doesn’t seem put out at all. She just shrugs and pulls me along so that we start walking again.
“Well, let’s get going before the drinks get warm!”
Cole slips his arm over my shoulder casually like it’s a normal thing we do as he falls into step with us. When my body doesn’t tense and my stomach doesn’t turn over from the touch, I decide to go with it. I don’t get any bad vibes from him and even though he is taller and obviously stronger than me I am fairly confident that I could take him down if needed.
We walk through a wooded trail for a bit before it pops out to a clearing with a crisp blue lake and clay rocks varying in size surrounding the edges. Scattered every two feet are college kids either sunbathing, swimming or playing some type of drinking game.
“Oh! I’m gonna go say hi to my friend from high school over there, be right back!” Mckayla calls out as she hurries to sidle up next to a lean guy with dark auburn hair. Well, I am sure that is the last that I will see of her today.
“You do realize that she isn’t coming back, right?” Cole says with an amused smile.
I huff out a short laugh. “Yeah, I gathered. Looks like I’ve been officially abandoned.”
His grip around my shoulders tightens as he pulls me in to a side hug. “Oh, darlin’. Don’t worry. I won’t leave your side.”
“Until a bouncy little thing in a tiny bikini requires your attention,” I smirk.
His smile slips just slightly, and his eyes look into mine earnestly.
“The only girl I’m interested in spending time with today is you.” His sincerity hits me square in the chest and the look in his eyes has me directing mine anywhere but him.
I start scanning the crowd again before they stop on a familiar pair of emerald green eyes that are apparently already locked on me. A scowl is etched across his face before he breaks eye contact with me and pulls the redhead from the pub down onto his lap. She squeals and throws her head back like she is embarrassed, but the fuck me eyes she is throwing him shows that she is anything but.
I look away and roll my eyes. I came here to have a good time and damnit that is what I am going to do. I won’t let that asshole’s presence ruin my day. Looking up to Cole who is watching me with a soft smile, I lean up onto my tip toes as I glance at his mouth. His eyes darken with desire as he takes a half of a step towards me.
When I am only a hairs width away from his lips I whisper, “Race you,” and take off running towards the water. I hear his heavy footsteps following close behind only a second later and before I can toss out my next insult, I am thrown over his shoulder and we are diving into the water.
I let out a sharp yelp when I emerge to the surface, feeling the full effect of the brisk water wrap around me. Kicking my legs up, I lay on my back so that I float on the surface, basking in this current feeling. The feeling of being free, with no worries or fears. The feeling of just, living.
Cole and I spend the day laughing, splashing in the water and me drinking him under the table. Golden boy can’t hold his liquor for shit. McKayla started an impromptu dance party that I was strong armed into and pretty soon everyone followed.
Towards the end of the night several bonfires have been set up all around with different groups of people around each. I’m sandwiched in between Cole and some guy as they animatedly discuss this year’s football season and what is to be expected. They sure take their sports seriously around here. Must be a southern thing. Stretching out my legs, I settle back onto my hands as I stare at the fire, watching the top of the flames lap at the night sky.
Damn, I don’t think that I have ever seen stars like this before. Living in a big city my whole life the night was usually lit up from skyscrapers and businesses and what was left of the sky was covered in a haze of smog. It’s pretty gorgeous.
Suddenly, I feel the air around me change and realize that Cole and football dude have vacated their spots and someone else is now sitting down next to me. I look over to see Dax eating up the space between us with a beer in his hand.
Fucking hell.
“Nice night,” he remarks to no one in particular as he stares up at the sky.
I choose not to respond because I honestly have nothing to say to this prick. I should honestly deck him for the shit that he said last week and move to another spot, but my curiosity is too great to see why the hell he would directly approach me. We sit there for several minutes in silence. It is heavy with obvious tension but also a sense of peace. I have no explanation for it, and I am actually glad that he speaks so that I don’t get the chance to go down that particular rabbit hole.
“You looked like you were having fun today,” he says hollowly with a hint of something that I can’t quite pin down. Irritation? Accusation? Whatever.
I drop my gaze from the sky to look at him, my eyes narrowed into slits.
“Yeah, I did. Is that a fucking problem?” I snap.
He turns his head down to look at me, lifting a single eyebrow as he does. “Are you always so fucking angry?”
“Only when I have to talk to egotistical assholes,” I say with an ugly sneer.
His face remains perfectly unfazed, and I can’t help but feel disappointment that I didn’t rile him up like last week. It was an almost powerful feeling to push a man like him. To most people it would probably also be a death sentence, but I’m not scared of this asswipe.
My eyes flick over him and I notice that just below the collar of his t-shirt, dark black ink is peeking up. I can’t see what the tattoo is since most of it is obstructed but I can’t say that I am not super fucking curious what a man like Dax would get inked on his body permanently. He is a fucking asshole. But an intriguing asshole, nonetheless.
“I was a dick the other day,” he rumbles lowly.
My eyebrows knit together in confusion at his words. Is he actually admitting it? Eyeing him warily, I slowly agree.
“Yeah, you were.”
“You pissed me off, so,” he shrugs like that is all the excuse needed for his behavior.
“Well, you pissed me off too, so,” I mock with a shrug before rolling my eyes.
He narrows his eyes as he leans forward, resting his thick forearms on top of his thighs. “Do you even know who I am?”
Unfortunately, I know a lot more about Dax Hart than I care to. It’s hard not to overhear gossip while working. The shit some people say in public honestly blew me away at first. I know that I was a little off about the whole self-proclaimed badass thing, from the talk that I have heard he is actually pretty badass. He had another fight last night and apparently destroyed the guy, broke his jaw and snapped his leg in half in the first minute of the fight.
I also learned that he was born and raised here and was for a brief moment in the UFC, like only a few fights brief. Apparently, his fight name is Angel of Death, don’t know why but it sounds cool. I didn’t hear why he no longer fights on the circuit, instead in a dingy gym basement after dark, but I honestly didn’t care enough to bother for more.
A few girls also talked about some other skills that he possessed that were not inside the octagon, those details were ones that I was even less interested to hear. Overall, it seems that everyone had something to say about Dax Hart. You can tell that every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him. He is that guy. The only part of his background that I have any amount of respect for is his record, undefeated since he started fighting underground. Not that I would ever let on that anything about this man could impress me.
“I know enough,” I say coolly. “From what I have heard, I don’t really see what the big deal is.” I only have to partially lie about that part.
His eyes stay narrowed as his head tilts to the side in what looks like contemplation. I meet his stare head on, refusing to show an ounce of weakness in front of him. I know all too well what men with power do with weaknesses. Exploit. Manipulate. Destroy.
