??T W O??
“Stay here,” I put the car into park.
Jay shot up from his lounging position, his hood up, and still paranoid as all hell. “Where are you going?” he asked.
I had hoped his explanation of his fuck up would soothe the ache inside of me but instead of fueling me into action, it left me floundering. All he had done was effectively tell me how much deep shit we were in.
Contrary to popular belief, I was not a fucking miracle worker, and there was only one person I trusted enough to even possibly help us. Unfortunately for all of us, I was no longer sleeping with him.
I shot him a look, “Right. Here. Jaymes.”
He shouldered himself back into his cocoon, muttering his compliance, but I had already slammed the door on him, hurrying into the crowded street side.
The evening crowd was passing, making way for the night crowd that would surely be on their heels well into the night. The orange and purple sunset lingered in the sky which meant there would likely be no patrons down at the docks yet.
PortCity was named and founded for its easy port access-original, I know. It spanned the coast, eating up all the ports that should have belonged to other cities, but because of founder skirmishes, it remained the only neutral ground and became its own collective.
The docks, for all their excess, weren't all used for trading but had been made into businesses and clubs for the citizens who had originally been workers.
I found the small dive port I had been scanning for, one where you could request just about anything you could desire, legal or not.
A man stood, his boot kicked up against the wall of the establishment, cigarette dangling from his lips as he fiddled on his phone. His hair was piled high in a bun on his head, the dirty blonde strands coming undone in a sexy mess that fell across the back of his thick neck.
The warmth that pooled into my panties was just as quick to light as it had ever been. I hadn’t seen Bryce in months, choosing to quit that bad habit cold turkey and focus on helping my brother get on his feet after he’d been kicked out of his adopted family’s house. Some good it did me.
I didn’t know why I thought I could do any better than our parents or the court appointed guardians, but I had certainly tried, hadn’t I?
Bryce wasn’t much of a fan of Jaymes already. While he would likely tell me to go fuck myself, he was the only one who had ever stuck his neck out for me, despite his usually gruff demeanor.
I pulled up to him, my Docs making plenty of noise against the old planks of the boardwalk. He didn’t look up as he took another drag, blowing the smoke in my general direction from the side of his lips.
“Buzz off, kid.”
I stepped closer, snatching the cigarette from between his lips, slipping it between my own, and relishing the tingle at the back of my throat. I took a moment to behold the feast that was Bryce. His head jerked upward, eyes flashing.
“Kid, huh?” I smiled, blowing smoke in his direction that he brushed away with a smirk.
“A little brat, yeah. What are you doing here?”
I shrugged, but my hand was shaking. His eyes tracked the slight tremor as I took another drag, “I missed you.”
“Bullshit.”
He was wrong, but I didn’t correct him. I wasn’t lying; in fact, there was nothing I wanted more than to throw myself into his chest and hide my face there, but he wasn’t any more likely to believe that than to believe I missed him.
Still, he was always able to tell when I was unsettled—something I had never really appreciated.
“I have a problem.”
He arched a brow, sliding his phone into his pocket before crossing his leather clad arms in front of him. “I could have told you that. I’ve always told you, you need an attitude adjustment.”
His blue eyes heated, the glaciers melting away into thoughts of exactly how he would like to adjust my attitude. I tried to tamper down the accompanying awareness that trickled through my core, but the shiver that wracked my body bled into my spine.
He smiled, the same smile that had gotten me in the back of his unmarked car years ago. I sighed, hating myself for what I was about to say to him, knowing it would ruin the look I craved so badly.
Last I saw him, his expression had been one of fury and fear co-mingled—justified even if I didn’t want to believe it.
“It’s Jaymes.”