Uncharted (Unexpected Book 3) (23 page)

My sister doesn’t say a word; only walks around the desk, kisses my forehead while giving me a hug, and leaves after slipping her shoes back on. The connection never fails. We only have to say so much for the other to understand and back off—or intervene. Of course I reflected several times on the turns we should have or could have taken. It all comes down to choices and consequences. One of the lessons I learned over the years is that we get one life, one shot, and if we piss it away, we live among the debris until we die.

“I’m working,” Matthew growls on the other side of the phone. I forgot he took the red-eye to Los Angeles. “It better be important. These suits think I’m here to play rich boy executive.”

“Stop trying to demonstrate shit and talk to Gabe, Matthew.” Ever since Matthew has worked at the production company, everyone thinks he’s an idiot who’s going to ruin Dad’s company just because he began at the bottom and has tried to learn each job. “But that’s not why I called. You told AJ about Pria.”

“She made me. You know the bitch.” I do. You can’t say no to AJ. She finds a way to bribe us. We are weak.

“I paid for your silence.” Not that I remember how, but I did.

“You did pay. AJ doesn’t know all of it,” he says with a muffled voice. “Now I have to go. Let me know if you want me back.”

“It’s eleven o’clock, how can I help you?” I push myself out of bed.

“Remember what we discussed two weeks ago about Jacob?” Mason’s question shakes the drowsiness. “Which I told you is a bad idea, but you insisted I do it anyway?” I give him a half-awake yes. “Well, he’s on the move.”

“I’m not his cellmate. I said: ‘Only when he’s about to drink himself to oblivion and…’” I pause. “Is he?”

“Yeah. Are you sure you want to do this, Ana?” Mason asks. I make a grunt affirmation because I’m searching for some shoes to wear. “I’m texting the address of the bar he’s at. Call if you need backup.”

I flip the switch and find my sandals next to the closet, but that’s not the best choice with the rain I hear pouring outside. The lounging pants I wear scream “bed time,” and so does my cami. Nope, I’m not changing. Rushing toward the door, I stop at the foyer where I left my rain boots earlier.

I grab my blue raincoat from the hook and search for my purse. This is an operation similar to picking up your underage child from a bar. Except this is a grown man who wants to change his image but refuses to change his way of life. Drinking, fucking, and forgetting his past—a past I am eager to know more about.

“Where are you going, Pria?” Maeve asks as I stick my pants inside the boots and put on my rain coat. “You can’t leave me alone eating my feelings away.” I notice she’s on the couch eating a piece of cake. “I need my sister.”

“If we want Lumiere to continue working for us, I have to work.” That’s what I call Dad’s nurse, because Maeve swears he looks like the candlestick from
Beauty and the Beast
. “This is part of my big contract— the one that promises to shower us with lots and lots of money.”

“His name isn’t Lumiere, Pria,” says the woman who came up with the nickname. “It’s Carson, and you’re right. Leave now because we can’t lose him. He’s perfect.”

“Are you two having some kind of affair?”

“Ew, he’s like twenty-five. No.” Her eyes become slits. “Go away.”

Hmm, one of these days I’ll find out where she goes to and who she’s “visiting.” I’m actually glad she is getting out a little. She’s too wonderful to be alone.

The moment I arrive at the Silver Moon, I spot him heading to the restroom with a tall brunette. Unbelievable. I told him no public sex, no public drinking, and what’s he doing? Heading to the nearest enclosed space to bang the first available skank wearing a slutty black number that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Like a creepy stalker I follow behind them, push the door of the men’s bathroom open, and look over the stalls.
This is my job
, I repeat, justifying my stalkerish moves. Any other woman would be looked at as spying on the guy she’s fixated on; not me. I’m over him and this is work. Hurray for perfect excuses. The handicap stall is the one with two sets of feet, and one of them is wearing four-inch Steve Madden Espadrilles—and the rain is going to ruin them. I should take them off her feet and save them from mutilation.

“Ah, yes.” A long squeaky sound brings me back to the real reason why I’m here.

I enter the stall next to where they’re about to fuck each other and stand on the rim of the toilet, getting a perfect aerial view of Jacob slipping a condom on his dick. Wait, did it grow? Hmm. I tilt my head trying to get a better view of the subject, but as he starts rolling up her dress I remember this isn’t happening on my watch.

“Jacob Christian.” He jolts and starts searching around the stall. “Put your dick back in your pants and walk out of this bathroom, and I won’t consider castration as my next resource to straighten you up.”

“You’re gay?” the woman asks, disgusted, while fixing her dress. She spins around and leaves the bathroom.

“Straighten me up? You could’ve used another word, Pria.” He fixes his pants, walks to where I stand, and carries me down. “Why the hell are you here?”

“I’m working and you reek of alcohol.” I take his hand and we head outside the bathroom. “No public intoxication, no sex. What is wrong with you?”

We walk through the masses who rock their heads and their bodies to the rhythm of the music.

“Let’s stay, he’s good.”

“That’s an entire band.” I point at the stage. “How drunk are you?”

“Oh, no. The guitarist is the only one who’s of any value to me; the rest suck.” He explains what sounds obvious to him, and is nonsense to me. “At least you can let me give Reed my card so he can hand it over to him. I am working here.”

I bite my tongue while he talks to the man behind the bar. Once Jacob is done, I pull him out of the place and shove him inside my car.

“You shouldn’t be driving this piece of junk so late,” he barks as I try to start my stupid car. “I planned on taking a cab, since I was drinking… You messed up my night. I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Be with me please.”

I know what he means about not wanting to be alone. I have known that feeling for so many years now. But I am not really sure I feel safe with him. He was right, though. All that stuff he said in the office that first afternoon about how no one could get me as wet as he could, just from dirty talk. Had he not made me so incensed, I may have almost come from his words alone. I certainly gave it more thought that night.
But now?
He is still an ass who was just about to bang some bar skank, but his pleading speaks to the eighteen-year-old Pria who had loved Jace.

“Okay.” Let’s call me easy. No. I’m saying yes because I know that feeling of not wanting to be alone.

I pull out of the parking spot and drive toward my house. Our couch is big enough and might fit that body of his. We have plenty of blankets to accommodate the man who doesn’t want to be alone.

“My place is only a few blocks from here, Pria. I can’t have you drive to Redmond with the rain and…please.” His strangled plea is a sad note from his heart. I want to know what happened to him. Who hurt him to the point of giving up who he is?

“Where to, then?” This is better—dropping him at his place before I make a fool of myself.
He’s nothing special. Just any other job.
He’s my client. My boss—that’s the way I should treat him. “I don’t have your address handy.”

“The corner of Main and Third Avenue.” He tosses his head back on the seat and closes his eyes. I stare at him, wanting to taste his lips but knowing that I don’t kiss clients—
or assholes
. “The light is green.”

I return my attention to the traffic light and realize he’s right. Lightning illuminates the sky, and rain washes over the city. The streets have only a few pedestrians walking under their umbrellas and I wonder how he knew about the light, but don’t ask. I reach the address he directed me to and find myself in front of a luxury building with an impressive structure made out of steel and glass.

“Park up front. Joe will take your keys and park your car.” Jacob opens his eyes, turns off the engine, and takes the keys. “Stay where you’re at.”

I do. He walks around the car, opens my door, and we head inside the building, taking the elevator that is made out of glass too. Like a little child, I lean my forehead into the glass and stare because the show is beautiful. Lights, rain, thunder…old habits are hard to shake. Being under the rain and enjoying each drop as it touches your body is magical.
He
taught me that.

“Have you danced under the rain?” I shake my head. I’m pathetic. My life is at an all-time low. “No dirt under your nails or lake water?”

“Not since Max went to live with your sister.” Those were fun days, walking together, hiking, or throwing the ball at him while he was at the dog park. Now all those fun times belong to the Bradleys. “I have to head back home.”

“So, you did name him Max.”

I look away from him, giving him a slight nod.

“You agreed to stay with me.” He embraces my body in a hug with those strong arms. His limbs have a steel-like feel to them. They’re firm. Mae would say he’s the ripping-your-clothes, making-you-come-with-one-stare kind of guy. This well-built, powerful, hot man scares the crap out of me. Ten years ago, when I first met him, he was a goofy boy who I found handsome in a boyish way. Back then, I had a hard time saying no to, but now… Fuck, I said yes without hesitation. This is the last time. I’m determined to fight tooth and nail to stay away from him. “Pria, if you want me to stop fucking other women and staying away from the booze, we’re going to have to spend most of the day together—nights. You charge by the hour, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I’ll pay for that time, because there’s no way I’m going through my hell all alone.”

I need to get away from his arms, from his intoxicating scent, from the close proximity of his lips.

“There are special places called rehabilitation facilities that can do a better job than me.”

He roars in laughter, my body shakes along with his, and I have no idea what I said that’s entertaining him.

“Not that kind of hell where you quiver insanely from the lack of booze.” He releases me when the doors of the elevator open and takes my hand, pulling me toward a door. “Booze erases the bad shit for a night, but…let’s not talk about it.”

My body misses his touch, but I’m relieved that I don’t have to fight the emotions his proximity creates. I look around the penthouse—a bachelor pad with slick furniture. Classic leather seats, glass surfaces, and modern paintings hang on the walls. His piano still takes center stage. There’s no drum set around or a television occupying an entire wall. However, this is Jacob Decker, a music geek who’d rather spend his time playing an instrument than a gadget.

“You’re back too early,” says a deeper voice. “What happened?”

“Pria cock blocked me.” Jacob unties my raincoat and his eyes widen. Damn, I forgot to put on a bra and my see-through cami is probably giving him a free show. “You’re here early too, Matthew. Serenity moved out?”

“Nah, you know how things work with her.” I’m intrigued. Who is this Serenity? “Or any neighbor; in and out. Steady couple of hours here and there. There are rules to those relationships. This is why you don’t have them.”

“No, I don’t have them because of other reasons.” These two clearly haven’t changed. There are always these types of nonsense discussions between them that have no tip or finish. “Aren’t you supposed to go back to school?”

“Ah, we have company.” Matthew appears, shorter hair than his brother, looking so much like him, and yet different. One dimple on his right side, but no scar over his left eyebrow. Jacob got it playing hockey at some summer camp. The blue eyes are crystal clear, but his remain playful. They hadn’t hardened as Jacob’s had. “Damn, girl, you grew up to be a fine piece—”

“Shut the fuck up, Matthew,” Jacob yells, placing himself in front of me. “I dare you to finish that sentence. If you do, I’ll make sure your face looks nothing like mine.”

My head tilts to watch Matthew, whose mouth shows a wide, triumphant smirk. “I usually leave Tuesday mornings, Jacob. I’m heading back tomorrow.” He strides toward the stairs. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Glad you’re finally back. I’ll make sure the bitch keeps me updated. Don’t forget to get her phone number this time, asshole. At least tell her to give you back your fucking soul.”