Jack Hammer Page 2

  And he wouldn’t.

  My dad was strict—had been since I fell off my bike when I was little and broke my arm. But while most seventeen-year-olds would rebel against their parents, I strived on the discipline. It was the perfect excuse for when Lynn tried to pull me in on something social that I had no desire to be a part of.

  “You do realize there’s such a thing as sneaking out, right?” she countered.

  Damn her.

  “I’m not sneaking out, Lynn.”

  “You are sneaking out, Chelsey,” she argued. “Please. Just do this for me. I promise I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready to go.”

  I always won these arguments, but I could see it in her eyes that she wasn’t going to give up as easily this time. The usual white flag she’d wave after a few minutes of arguing with me was apparently packed away with yesterday’s outfit.

  The good news was, this was the first time she’d ever promised to take me home as soon as I was ready. It might be worth giving it a shot. Plus, there was the added bonus that I might get to gaze at Blaine from across the room for a few brief seconds.

  “Fine,” I said, earning a wide-eyed look from Lynn.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Seriously. What time should I sneak out?”

  The smile she gave me made my stomach bottom out. Had I known the trouble that was headed my way, I would’ve never agreed to some stupid party with her.

  2

  BLAINE

  CHELSEY FORD.

  I’d seen her around school, and passed her in the hallway every day between classes. She was a quiet, rich girl—more concerned with her books and classes than anything else. We had a class together the year before, but she barely looked at me, much less talked to me.

  Half of the time she had her face in a book, hiding her flushed cheeks and big, brown eyes, but sometimes, and not very often, she’d look up when she walked down the hallway. Her brown hair would move with her step, and every now and again she’d smile.

  I liked her smile. I liked it a lot.

  Her lips were pouty with a natural tilt that made her always look like she had a secret, and her eyes were amazing. They were wide and observant, and on the occasions when she looked up, it was like she could see everything.

  Her frame was small, her hands tiny, and her waist even tinier. She didn’t dress the way the rest of the girls did, and I think that’s one of the things that caught my attention. She stood out, while trying to blend in.

  She was the opposite of every girl I fucked with, but there was something about her—a forbidden aspect I was inexplicably drawn to. It made me want to know her—be a part of her world—push her to do something wild and crazy. It was fucked up on my part, but I couldn’t help it.

  I wasn’t obsessed. I didn’t get obsessed, especially over a chick, but she was different. She didn’t slobber all over my cock like the other girls. I didn’t catch her staring at me like I was a piece of fucking beef. She didn’t pay me the time of day, and I appreciated that shit so much. Don’t get me wrong, seeing her sweet blushes and the stars in her eyes when I helped her with her bag was nice, but I wanted more from her. So much more. If a little of something was good, more was always better.

  After I helped her with her bag and left her at her classroom door, I left the school. Falling into my car, I cranked the engine and peeled tires leaving the parking lot. Flipping on the radio, I turned it up when my favorite Blow Hole song flowed from the speakers.

  The warm Georgia air moved through my car, ruffling my hair, as I rode with my windows down through town. The run-down homes and trailer parks on the sides of the road blurred as I sped to get to my destination.

  I lived on the shitty side of town, but my parents wanted me to go to school on the rich side, so we used a friend’s address. Needless to say, I went to school with a bunch of stuck-up bitches. Most of them begging to rebel against daddy and climb all over my cock. You better believe I let them, too. Every fucking chance I got.

  Thirty minutes later, I was turning into a shabby trailer park down the road from my house. Pulling into Jay’s yard, I let my engine idle and honked once before I turned my car off and got out. Pierce, his pit-bull, met me at my car, jumping up on me and licking my arms.

  “Down, Pierce!” I said, wiping my arm on my T-shirt.

  “Dude, where the fuck you been?” Jay called from his front porch.

  He was in his boxers, nursing a beer in the middle of the day.

  Fucking loser.

  His long body looked dirty, and was covered in scars from the rough lifestyle he led. There wasn’t much drama that happened around our hood that didn’t involve him. A year before, he wound up in the hospital for two weeks after being shot in the calf. Needless to say, he had a permanent limp.

  Still, he kept living like he was dying, and was always down for a good time. He was also the man everyone went to when they needed a fix of the good shit.

  “I had some shit to finish up. You got it?” I asked, referring to the ounce of green I was there to pick up.

  He dabbled in everything, but I was there to slow down, not speed up. I’d seen some of the crazy fuckers who left his trailer all jacked up on speed ball and everything else they could get their hands on. Not me. Fuck that. I wanted to maintain my good looks, and smoking meth and the rest of that bullshit aged you quick.

  But even though I didn’t buy the crazy shit, I was still one of Jay’s best customers. He was always there when I needed something to party with, and we were having a party down the road from my house later. Everyone was going to be looking to me for a fat bag of Kush when it was time to light up the night. I was all about the high life. It was the only way to live.

  The wooden steps leading into Jay’s singlewide trailer felt like they were deteriorating beneath my feet. I was surprised some junky hadn’t killed themselves while leaving. The aluminum door squeaked like it was seconds away from falling from its hinges when he opened it, and I had to duck down to enter since the ceilings were so low. He lived in a shithole, but it was his. That counted for something.

  I left an hour later, high as fuck and ready to take on Friday night. I drove home to our small, brick house and parked on the side of the road across the street from our driveway. Dad’s piece-of-shit truck was in the driveway and mom’s run-down minivan was beside it.

  Rolling up my windows, I climbed from my car and locked the doors. Everyone knew better than to fuck with my car, but just in case someone was feeling extra stupid, I kept it locked. I waited for a car to pass, and then ran across the street and into our yard.

  Maddie, my baby sister, was running around with our dad right on her little heels. Her soft, baby squeals warmed my heart, and I dropped to the grass in a sitting position when she spotted me and came running my way.

  “Baine!” she called out my name.

  Her little legs wobbled as she jetted through the grass toward me. It was cute. She couldn’t say Blaine. The letter L was hard for her. She said yub instead of love, it was my favorite word from her.

  “Maddie!” I called back, matching her excitement.

  I held my arms open for her, and she fell into them in a fit of giggles.

  She was taller than most three-year-olds, but she was beautiful like my mom and strong-willed like my dad. Maddie was my favorite person in the world. She didn’t judge me. She wasn’t old enough to understand how fucked up I was, which meant she loved me unconditionally. I enjoyed her love as much as I could, since I knew one day she’d grow up and know better.

  Scooping her up, I waved her above my head and made airplane noises as I ran across the yard to the front door.

  When I came crashing through the door with a laughing Madison, my mom turned from her soap operas and laughed with her. Dad came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  “Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asked.

  “I could say the same to you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” I countered.

&nb
sp; He shoved me playfully before sitting next to my mom.

  “I got off early,” he said.

  “Yeah, so did I.” I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of chips before turning down the hallway to my room.

  “You keep skipping school and you’re going to fail, Blaine,” my mom called down the hallway after me.

  We weren’t rich people. We lived in a small, three-bedroom, brick house in a bad neighborhood, but the thing was, we knew the drug dealers and crazy people by first names. We’d lived in the neighborhood longer than most of the others.

  My dad held a job as a mechanic and worked hard. He wasn’t into anything crazy and lived an honest life. He was supportive of me and pushed me to do my best, but basically he trusted me to do the right thing or learn from my mistakes.

  My mom was a stay-at-home-mom, and she was damn good at her job. She took great care of her house. It wasn’t much, but it was clean. My sister was well cared for and clean, and my bed sheets were washed once a week. The woman was on top of her game, which meant I never needed to look for clean clothes. We were fed well and loved hard, and for that I’d always appreciate her.

  She was a lot like my dad—not too pushy or nosey, and always willing to give me space to make my own mistakes. Yet when the shit hit the fan, she was always there to pick up the pieces. My parents were the best, even if they struggled every day to make ends meet, they made it a point to struggle together.

  I fell asleep on my bed soon after I laid down, and when I woke up, it was dark outside. Pulling out something to wear, I took a quick shower and got ready for the party.

  I kissed Madison on the cheek, followed by my mom, and then I promised my dad I’d be safe. He always made me swear I wouldn’t drink and drive, or any crazy shit like that.

  “Try and be home by midnight please,” he said, never taking his eyes away from his football game.

  “Sure thing,” I said, stepping out onto the brick porch and shutting the door behind me.

  Our neighbor, Brian, pulled up in his driveway then, the loud bass of his speakers shaking his trunk.

  “Yo, Blaine! Where you headed, bro?” he asked, turning down his music.

  “Party down at the farm,” I said, pulling my car door open and falling in.

  Ten minutes later, I was parking on the big plot of land where everyone hung out. The field used to be full of corn, but now it was empty with only a few old husks lying around. We’d build a big bonfire, get drunk off our asses, and smoke more Kush than any one of us could afford. It didn’t take me long to feel the beers I was drinking, and the smoke I’d smoked up. It was two hours in, and I already had a decent buzz going.

  I was sitting in a fold-out chair far away from the fire. My eyes burned, making the land around me blur and swim. I tipped my plastic cup up and downed the rest of my beer. The girl on my lap, Amy I think her name was, caressed my cock through my jeans, but I wasn’t feeling it.

  The party was a dud, and I knew if I wasn’t totally fucked up, I’d be ready go. The music died when the battery in Al’s mustang died, and it was too quiet. People lounged around the fire, passing blunts and laughing, but I was tucked away in the corner watching.

  And then I saw her. Chelsey Ford.

  She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Simple all the way, which stuck out big time around the rest of the girls who were dressed for sex. Her hair was down, covering most of her cheeks. She stood next to the fire, the glow and flicker of the flames highlighting her.

  She nibbled her bottom lip nervously, which I noticed she did a lot. It made me think of kissing her and soothing the bitten parts of her flesh. It wasn’t until I saw her that my cock began to harden beneath Amy’s fingers.

  My eyes moved around Chelsey, noticing she was alone, and I wondered what in the world she was doing there. Obviously, by the look on her face, she had no desire to be anywhere near the party.

  And then she looked up, and her eyes flickered to mine and held. Something moved in my stomach then. She’d never looked at me before, but she was seeing me now. She wasn’t seeing my car or my blue eyes. She wasn’t looking down at my crotch or throwing herself at me. She was simply looking. And for the first time ever, I felt like someone could see right through me.

  Slipping Amy from my lap, she whined annoyingly as I stood and walked toward the fire. Chelsey tensed when I moved closer, never taking my eyes away from her. She put her head down and tucked her hair behind her ear, and then again she was watching me watch her.

  I stood beside her, the fire warming the front of my body and making popping noises into the cool, night air around us.

  “Are you having fun?” I asked.

  Lame.

  Surely I could’ve thought of something better to ask.

  “What do you think?” she asked, gazing around the dying party.

  I studied her profile. The sweep of her cheekbone. Her chin and the softness of her pouty lips. Her eyes were big and deep set, darker than the night around us, and I knew, I just knew, I had to have her.

  “I think I want to kiss you.” The drunken words rushed from my lips shocking even me.

  Damn.

  I’d definitely had too much to drink.

  She turned and looked at me with wide eyes, and before she could say anything I moved in and kissed her.

  My lips tingled against hers, her soft breath dusting my cheek and making me burn inside. She moaned against my lips, and I pressed harder, my lips parting. Just as quickly as it started, and just as her flavor began to coat my tongue, she pulled away. Using the back of her arm, she wiped hard at her lips, cutting through me with a hard glare. And then her tiny palm met my cheek with a loud smack.

  My face shifted and stung.

  Everyone around us stopped and looked at our little scene. I covered my heated cheek where her small palm hit me, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. My little, quiet girl was a bit ferocious. Fuck it was sexy.

  She turned on her heel and started toward where the cars were parked. I watched her, the smirk stuck on my face making my cheeks ache. It might not happen tonight, tomorrow, or this month, for that matter, but Chelsey Ford would be mine. Now that I’d had a taste of her, I had to have her.

  3

  CHELSEY

  HE WAS BEAUTIFUL. END OF SUBJECT.

  His Siberian husky, clear, blue eyes, and his olive skin that glowed in the firelight only added to his good looks. The mysterious look in his eyes, and the spine-tingling smirk he gave me as he made his way toward me, made my nerves go wild.

  He was one gorgeous package, and the fact that he kept giving me so much of his attention was flattering, to say the least.

  I’d never admit that to anyone else, not even Lynn. The last thing she needed to know was that I was attracted to a guy we went to school with. She’d tell the world, and then I’d have to kill her and quit school. That would not be good for my GPA or my chances of getting into Columbia.

  And then he was kissing me, and the world around me shifted and changed. The colors were different, the night air warmer, and I had the distinct feeling I was floating. He was warm and sweet against my lips, his body moving closer and heating me in a way the fire in front of us couldn’t. It was my first kiss, and I wasn’t upset Blaine was the one giving it to me.

  I wasn’t thrilled that it was sudden and I was unprepared. I also hated that it was in front of a group of people I didn’t know or care about, but still, the boy choice could’ve been worse. I could’ve been kissing some stick-in-the-mud university stiff instead of the bad boy who made my blood boil.

  His tongue traced my lips, tickling the soft skin just inside my mouth, and then he opened his mouth a bit, and I could taste the smoke and beer on his breath. Realization of what I was doing, and where I was doing it, moved in and sent a shockwave through me.

  I hadn’t meant to slap him, but all of it was a jolt to my system. My first kiss had been with someone who was obviously drunk and most likely wouldn’t even remember the mome
nt. It wasn’t anything like the moment I’d occasionally thought about, and it was done in front of a crowd of strangers, no less. It was the best and worst moment of my life.

  My palm stung, as I ran to Lynn’s car, tripping over roots and broken branches on the way. Throwing open the passenger’s side door, I climbed in and slammed it behind me. Not long after, Lynn climbed in. She was trying to cover the grin on her lips, which only added to my less than friendly disposition.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her.

  “Don’t,” I said, holding up my hand and turning away from her.

  “Okay,” she muttered. “Um… what just happened back there?”

  “I’ll tell you what just happened. That… that jerk kissed me!” I stuttered over my anger.

  Embarrassment and something else I couldn’t put a name on struck me deep. My insides and legs were shaky as tremors of unwanted heat moved through my core, and the strange feeling continued to build until I could name it.

  Excitement.

  That’s what it was.

  Why in God’s name was I feeling excitement?

  Especially when I should’ve been disgusted by such a blatant display of disrespect. But the truth was, his kiss hadn’t felt disrespectful at all. If you took away the taste of beer and smoke on his breath, it would’ve been the single best moment of my life.

  She wiped the smirk from her lips and cleared her throat. “Yeah. I saw that. Did you kiss him back?” she asked, prompting me to glare at her.

  “You’re not serious right now?”

  “I’m totally serious right now. Was it wonderful?”

  “Drive, Lynn.” I smacked my hand against the dash of her car. “You promised to take me home when I wanted to go home. I most certainly want to go home now.”

  What I didn’t want to do was evaluate the way I was feeling, and I really didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe later, once the shock of the night wore off, but not when I was still strung tight with nerves. Not when the weird feeling of anxiousness to kiss him again still sat heavy in my chest.