The Girl in the Mirror (Sand & Fog #3) (10 page)

His features somehow tighten more.

Uh-oh. Wrong thing to say.

“I’m done with this.
You’re
on
your
own, Krystal. I’m doing my job, filing my report, and getting out of here.”

He jumps to his feet and starts walking away.

Oh no, that wasn’t what I wanted.

GI Joe hardnose Merrick.

“Wait, Jacob.”

I hurry to catch up with him, since his leaving would make this mess even more of a mess. Without Jacob, I have no cover story for Maddy and she’ll be back interrogating me about Daryl.

“Stop. Now. You should hear me out.”

Darn it, he keeps walking.

“I have an idea that will help us both. It doesn’t hurt to listen.”

He stops and turns back toward me, running his hands through his hair, his expression something not encouraging.

My head tilts as my eyes widen. “Thank you.”

No response.

Just his jaw clenching.

Fine, I’ll take that as a win.

I inhale and exhale to steady myself, because the way he’s looking at me makes it
almost
impossible to float this suggestion.

“The house is big, Jacob. It’s on the beach. It has everything. It’s only three days. Stay and pretend for Maddy that you’re my boyfriend. I’ll pick a fight with you Monday. You can dump me. I owe you that. Then I’m off to Juilliard the next day and we don’t ever have to see each other again. I know Madison. It’s the only way to keep her silent and for neither of us to have a problem with my dad.”

Jacob shakes his head at me. “It’s not going to work. You don’t dig a hole deeper to climb out of it.”

“We’re not digging deeper; we’re digging a tunnel.”

He looks undecided. “You just want me to hang around a few days so you can dump me? You expect nothing else, right?”

Nothing else?

Oh gross.

He can’t really be wondering
that.

I swallow, suddenly losing my ability to speak because his expression is not very complimentary of me. I didn’t expect everything to be peachy with Jacob after the bedroom humiliation, but I never imagined he’d come away thinking I’m
that
twisted.

I don’t want to even acknowledge his thoughts, but—jeez, Louise—you can’t walk away from someone thinking that wrongly about you.

“Daryl was my boyfriend for two years. I’m not the least bit interested in you for
anything.
Consider yourself safe from me.”

He runs his hand through his hair as a slight hint of color rises to his cheeks—good, that embarrassed him. Quid pro quo, and all—and as he slowly exhales, he looks like he’s starting to thaw a bit.

“All you’ve got to do is pretend like we’re together,” I add quickly. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“That’s what’s got me worried—you taking care of things.”

“Can we stop with the rude comments every two seconds, please?”

I stare at him.

Grudgingly, he nods.

“I know this is not an ideal situation—not for either of us—but we both have a lot to lose here and I’m very good at staying out of trouble, Jacob. Follow my lead. It’ll work out brilliantly.”

After several seconds of excruciating silence, he grabs my hand.

“Jacob”

Brayden sets down his beer and I shift my gaze to him.

Oh, let this night be over.

Longest four hours of my life.

It feels like the walls are closing in on me.

The tension in the room is unbearable. Even with Krystal curled up on the couch, pressed into me, doing a remarkable show of being the affectionate girlfriend, we’re not fooling anyone.

Krystal must know that.

This is never going to work.

I should call Chrissie.

Get it over with.

If they fire me, they fire me.

The hairs on the back of my neck haven’t stood down since I returned to the house with Krystal. Maybe they would if Madison would stop staring at me with narrow and suspicious eyes.

She isn’t believing this.

The second this weekend is over, she’s calling her sister and Chrissie will find out the entire mess.

“I should probably hit the road,” Brayden says. “I need your keys, Jake. You drove. Remember?”

I stand. “I’ll walk you out, Bray.”

I follow him from the house without a backward glance, too relieved to be out of there.

The instant we’re past the walk-through gate and out of view, Brayden whirls on me. “What are you doing, Jake? Have you lost your mind? You can’t stay here with Krystal.”

I collapse back against the concrete wall, clutching my face in my hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing, man. It made sense when Krystal asked me to help her, but it’s turning into a nightmare.”

He stares at me like I’m crazy. “Made sense? Dude, you’ve got it bad for her if you’re willing to risk your ass doing this. Jake, you’ve signed on to be her boyfriend and stay at this house with her. If Alan finds out—”

My hands drop away from my face. “He’s not going to find out.”

“You better hope he doesn’t because he’ll kick the shit out of you. You’ll wish he just fired you if he learns about this. One thing for sure, no one will ever hire you again if this blows up. His daughter, Jake. It doesn’t matter if it’s Krystal’s idea. You own this fuckup now. He’ll never believe what really went down here. I’m here and I almost don’t believe it. You don’t mess with Alan’s kids. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Damn, Brayden’s right.

The problem is now that I’ve agreed, I don’t know how to get out of it. Out on the beach, I knew it was a bad idea.

But Krystal stared at me with those wide blue eyes—they always foul me up to the point where half the time I can’t think or talk when I look at her—and I told myself “no” then I let her suck me right into this completely insane arrangement.

“I’m trying to help her.”

Brayden’s eyes are mocking. “Bullshit. Put a beautiful, messed-up girl in front of you and you fall for her every time. It’s a foregone conclusion. I’ve seen how you watch her. I knew it was only a matter of time until you were going to do something stupid over her.”

“It’s not like that. I didn’t plan this. It just happened. She was tripping out on the beach. She’s scared and doesn’t want anyone else to find out the junk that went down here with Daryl. I think she’s afraid of her dad. I don’t blame her. Anyone can see living with Alan is like juggling hand grenades. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t say no, Brayden. That’s the only reason I’m doing this for her. I think she’s scared of her dad.”

“Bullshit,” he repeats scathingly, shaking his head, and I look away first because, fuck, he knows me well and his assessment isn’t one hundred percent off the mark.

The girls who are trouble? Yep, that’s been an issue for me.

Thinking I want to get something going with Krystal? Wrong. Not in this lifetime. She’s the triple crown of misery: rich, beautiful, and trouble.

The Alan part? Maybe I exaggerated, but she is worried what her dad will think of her if he ever finds out what she does during her alone time with Daryl. And I can’t fault a girl for being terrified of letting her dad know
that.

Brayden exhales heavily, pulling me from my musings.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he says grimly. “I’m pretty sure I should make you leave with me and phone this in. And I’m definitely sure we should have checked in with Jared hours ago. You’ve put my job on the line, too.”

My eyes widen. “What? Why didn’t you shoot off a report that everything was OK here while I was taking Daryl the idiot home? Jesus Christ. Are you telling me we’re still on the clock? Why didn’t you close out this job order for us?”

His face contorts. “And tell Jared what?”

“That it was all clear and that we were clocking out.”

His brows lower as his jaw clenches. “Don’t lay this on me. I didn’t create this mofo. I didn’t bust into the bedroom. I didn’t pound that kid. And I’m not the one hanging around to be make-believe boyfriend this weekend for Alan’s daughter. This is your fuckup, Jake.”

Way to have my back, Brayden.

I pull my cell from pocket, open the app for Black Star Security, hit our work order, clear the ticket, clock out, then shoot off a text to our boss to let him know “all’s clear here.”

After sending the text, I stare at the screen for a moment, cringing.

Shit, I should have written something more official.

Six hours in Malibu without a detailed report.

Jared is going to follow up on that.

Maybe not tonight, but it’s coming.

I need to think of a good story by Monday to explain this. I hate this lying crap. One lie and you end up having to make up more.

I grab the keys from my pocket. “Here. Take off. I’ll see you back at the apartment on Monday.”

His gaze locks on me as I hand him the ring. “You’re staying, then?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice. You shouldn’t go back in there. Let’s go to the car and get the hell out of here. That’s the smart move for you.”

He’s right.

But I’d be a total douche if I took off on her now.

Right or wrong, I said I’d do it.

I meet his eyes unwaveringly and shrug. “I’m staying.”

One beefy hand closes on my shoulder then squeezes hard with a little shake. “Try not to do anything else dumb while you’re here.”

I flush. “I’ve already told you, I’m not interested in her. That’s not happening.”

“See that it doesn’t. Keep your zipper zipped and your weapon locked.”

Did he really just say that?

“You’re an asshole, Brayden.”

We lock eyes and then he lets out a slow sigh and looks down, focused on watching the keys he’s turning in his hand.

“Leave your phone on in case I need to contact you,” he orders.

Chill out, dude.

He couldn’t be any more insulting if he tried.

“Listen, if I do anything else stupid you’ve got first dibs over Alan to pound me. OK? But I’m not going to, so stop worrying. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“She’s cute, Jake. I’ll give her that. But no girl is worth the level of hurt coming your way if you cross the line. Alan will see you never work again, anywhere. He’s not the kind of man who lets things go. Remember that. Krystal Harris isn’t for you. Out of your league and always will be. Just like Marley was. Girls like that aren’t for guys like us. We can take a bullet for them, but they aren’t taking us home to meet Daddy. Not ever.”

He had to do it.

The Marley lecture.

He couldn’t keep his mouth shut and leave.

“Like I said—not interested.”

I watch him disappear down the walk.

I turn back toward the house, then stop.

My muscles feel like coiled springs after sitting in that room for hours and I still haven’t called Jane today. I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time. 12:30 p.m. Too late to call her.

I lean back against the wall, stretching my neck to the right until it cracks, then the left as I tap out a quick note so she won’t worry about me.

Me:
Sorry I didn’t call. Hung up at work. All’s good. All good with you? Will try to call tomorrow. Not definite. Working through the weekend. Don’t ask. Just another shit assignment.

My phone is almost back in my pocket when it dings. I swipe it open.

Janie:
All’s good. I didn’t call u, cuz I was hoping you were hung up with a girl. Not fair you have to work. You work too much. Go find some trouble. Nite, Big Bro.

Smiling, I switch it off, but my mood plummets by the time I reach the front door.

Trouble?

Already found some.

Girl?

Nope.

I’m juggling live hand grenades this weekend, Janie.

What am I still doing here?

When I enter the house, I find most of the interior lights shut off and the great room empty.

Oh, thank you.

Imaginary date night number one over.

I toy with the idea of searching Krystal out to make sure nothing else went wrong while I was with Brayden and instead go to the kitchen to grab a beer. My temples are throbbing, clear indication that I need sleep. But I’m still amped up.

I open the fridge and stare at the neatly arranged variety of beer. Wow, they have everything and no one even lives here. Hmm. Tsingtao. Chinese. It looks like Heineken. I’ve never had a Chinese beer.

Popping off the cap, I lean back against the counter.

Why did I have to try to be the good guy and agree to stay here? And not just any good guy with Krystal—the epic fall-on-his-sword good guy since I put her ahead of keeping my job.

We’re not even involved and she turned me into that guy just like Marley did. The guy who knows when junk is crazy-time nonsense, but while looking at the girl somehow says OK even when their own inner guy is laughing at them.

Who doesn’t listen to their own inner guy?

He’s the guy who’s always right.

Big head and little head are easy to pull into the wrong direction.

Inner guy is too smart for it every time.

And somehow girls know by looking at me that I’m that guy. I’ll respond right away with an affirmative to anything they ask. Even shit that risks my job.

Marley had my number from day one.

Krystal, it seems, does as well.

Sweet and beautiful.

Soulful, pleading eyes.

All pretty and fragile on the surface, effortlessly knowing how to tap in and take hold of the protect-them zone inside us men. And girls today don’t want protecting. They don’t even want boyfriends.

I stare at the kitchen, sipping my beer and trying to figure out where to sleep, and more importantly, how I got roped into this.

Brayden’s words from earlier replay in my head
. Put a beautiful, messed-up girl in front of you and you fall for her every time.

I drop the cap into the trash compactor and answer him.
Yes, Brayden, I do. But it’d be worth it with Krystal. She’s an amazing girl
.

I shake my head. Honest thought. Dumb thought. She’s amazing, but an IED like Marley.

I’ve lived this before. I should know better. The good guy doesn’t ever win in this circumstance. He ends up twisted up, tangled up, and then spat up. Never with the girl. A lesson I should have already learned.