Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) (5 page)

“Are you going to put anything ther
e?” I ask, pointing to the naked skin.

“Yeah
, someday I will. Just haven’t found anything I like yet.” He’s being pleasantly endearing and I hope this version of Jake is the one that stays.

“Really, what’s up? You look like someone shot your dog or something.”

“I… just wasn’t expecting to see what I saw at the shelter today.” Visions of frail children flash into my mind and I can feel my heart break all over again. “It was incredibly sad and tragic. To be honest, since coming to Sulfur Heights, that’s the vibe I get whenever I open my eyes and look around. Everything is just… different.”

I know what Presley’s perception of Sulfur Heights is—the town’s divided by the railroad tracks
—but I never really wrapped my brain around it until today. It seems unbelievable that there is a place in America where violence is tolerated as long as it happens on the other side of town, but from the little I’ve seen, it most certainly is. Why can’t anyone do anything to stop it? What can I do to help? Everything on the Southside is broken and violent, however no one seems to care. Well, no one with any kind of influence seems to care. I think I’m the only person who’s come from money that’s actually stepped foot into the children’s rescue shelter.

“Look
, I know this isn’t the princess-cupcake-land you grew up in and it’s a little messed up, but this town can be fun. You just need to know what to do and who to do it with.” Jake’s smile is prevalent and I again want to slap him. I just don’t understand it, he has been doing so well at not being a pig.

“
Will you stop with the cupcake stuff; it’s really annoying and kind of insulting.”

“I will make you a deal. I will stop with the flirting
—”

“Oh, is that what you call all those crude comments, flirting?”

“Hey! You want to know the deal or not?” I nod and he continues, “I will
try
to stop with all the names and stupid shit if you allow me to show you how fun this town can really be. No questions or opinions and let your inhibitions run. We’ll call it the J&D adventures.” Jake’s intense stare is penetrating me once again. I can’t look away. I’m captivated. “Are you in?”

I have a feeling I’m going to regret this in the end
, and this is the exact opposite of what my mother told me not to do, however when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me now, it’s impossible to come up with any other answer. I’m sucked in by his look, consuming the poison he oozes like it’s the only drink of water I’ve had in days. Then I say the only thought that will register in my brain and pray this won’t be a mistake. “Count me in.”

Chapter 3

Jake

Delilah raises her ocean blue eyes and connects them with mine
. Inside them, all you can see is terror mixed with a hint of anticipation. Over the next two and a half months, she will be pissing in her pants and dancing with excitement all at the same time. I can tell once she gets a taste of adrenaline she will be addicted to it. Her eyes cannot lie, they mirror mine—rebellious. I believe a walk on the wild side with Jake Evans is just what this country cupcake needs. It should be fun to show her how real people live their lives.

“Okay, cup
—
D. Be ready to go on your first adventure tonight. We’re leaving at nine p.m. on the dot.”

“What are we
doing?” She picks up a strand of her long, blonde hair and starts wrapping it around her finger, clearly nervous, and do I see excitement? Yes, I think I do.

“That’s for you to find out. This won’t be fun if you know what we’re doing ever
y second.” I don’t say this often, but for some reason, when I look into her blue eyes, I really want her to know it’s okay to be with me. I won’t let anything happen to her. The need to protect is evident and confusing all in one. “Just trust me.”

She takes a deep breath
, holding it in for an eternity, and then slowly expels the air from her lungs. Her eyes turn to meet mine once again. “Okay, I trust you, Jake Evans.”

Hearing her say the words is intoxicating. She trusts me. It’s a phrase I don’t hear often
; not because I’m not trustworthy, but I typically don’t care if people trust me or not. I’m a hustler by nature. I give them the illusion of trust then blow it up when I take their money. I will do my own thing, and if they’re in for the risk, great. If not, no skin off my teeth. Yet, to hold Delilah’s trust, only means she’s beginning to become more than Presley’s best friend and my next conquest.

I feel
, when I look at her, I can really connect with her in a way only a few people in my life can. Darcie and Jeremy are the only ones I’ve truly related to, but they know the inner workings of my twisted mind. Now, when I look into Delilah’s eyes, I instantly feel she’s walked her way in and is taking a seat.

I stand and stretch my weary body. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I last shut my eyes to sleep
, and if I’m going to be ready to go in nine hours, sleep is on the top of the list. “Well, I’m off to bed. Remember, we’re leaving at nine. Not a second later.” I turn and walk my way up the stairs, closing the back door behind me.

After taking a shower
and downing a can of Mountain Dew, I trudge down the basement stairs and open up the door to my room. Everyone still gives me a hard time for how I chose to keep my room in high school. Yes, it may have been disgusting, but when it got to be gross even for me, I decided to change my ways. Now, if anyone bothers to come down here, they will see how organized and neat everything is. No laundry on the floor—it’s only overflowing in my hamper—and the room smells like an ocean breeze. Actually, I really don’t know if that is what the ocean smells like, considering I’ve never been close enough to the ocean to smell it, however the manufacturer seems to think it’s the perfect scent of the ocean. I like the smell nonetheless.

I toss my dirty clothes in the hamper, rip off my wet towel and pull on a pair of boxers. The smell of my
discarded clothes reminds me of my last little encounter. Cheap perfume and cigarettes flood my senses as I’m brought back to the wee hours of my morning.

After another long night of drinking
, I got an enticing invitation to a sexy, little redhead’s apartment. Upon arrival, I had the opportunity of fucking her and her best friend. It’s a bitch, I know, but what was I supposed to do? They were both so willing and had no preconceived notions of being in an everlasting relationship. We spent much of the morning inside each other, and by eleven, I was out the door. I walked back down to the bar to meet Jeremy and take the Challenger home.

He
’s apparently meeting up with Ronnie about some upcoming races. I’ve noticed Jeremy is going off with Ronnie more and more, willingly leaving me his car. As confusing as I find his behavior, I’m not one to complain. Granted, I could get a car of my own—God knows I have the money—but I would rather ride along with someone than drive. Actually—if you want to get technical—the car is mine, considering it’s registered under my name, although we all know who it really belongs to.

Drug dealers were hot on
Dad’s trail just before they killed him. Jeremy and I were only seven-years-old when that finally occurred. He happened to put the car in my name right before he died. Don’t ask me how he got away with it, considering I was a child at the time, but Dad knew many people in the underground world
—
people none of us ever wanted to meet
—
and he managed to have it put into my name. Although Reggie would have been the logical choice—being that he was nine years older than us—Dad loathed him.

He was
the spitting image of his father and our mother’s one true love. After Reggie’s dad bailed, she shut down and opened her legs to anyone who showed interest. Fast forward nine months, and she was saddled with twin boys fathered by a man she could hardly look at. Dad put up a good fight—tried to win Mom over with gifts and expensive clothes—but like everything we’ve ever known in life, nothing lasts.

Dad bailed for a
while and came back into our lives a year before he died. Drugs owned him, both physically and mentally. He sold drugs to support his growing habit, and spent his money on fixing up the Challenger. One fateful day, he made a deal with the wrong people and it ended up costing him his life. Mom, at this point, was already lost into her own drug-induced habit. She had a pretty lucrative business selling to junkies and whoring herself out to dealers to get her own fix. Nevertheless, it was just another day in paradise.

I
lie down in my bed and pull the covers over my body. I finally begin to relax when I start thinking about the joy this summer will be. Delilah will have the experience of a life time and I’ll get to be front row, watching it happen. I hope when she leaves us in August she will be one of the rare ones who actually looks forward to coming back to Sulfur Heights instead of the opposite. Mostly, people leave and the never look back.

We’ve all wanted to bail on one occasion or another, but no one worse than Darcie. Up until Reggie and
she became a couple, she would talk about getting the hell out all the time. Now, though, the thought of any of us breaking apart our family is worse than living in Sulfur Heights. We would all be willing to live somewhere else as a long as we could do it together. God, our family is as corny as fuck.

The summer
has already been crazy. Racing is in full swing, keeping Jeremy and I busy building our little empire. We are trying to save up enough money to finally go straight and do something legal for a change. We have aspirations of opening our own garage, but first you need seed money. That’s where the hustling comes into play. Any money I make at the tables or Jeremy makes on racing, we put into savings to open up a shop. We are a few years away from making that dream a success, and if we can keep ourselves just under the radar, we’ll be all set.

I
’m so proud of my brother; he’s cleaning house at the races. After coming out of his long overdue hiatus against that fuckstick, Grady McGuire, Jeremy has been on a roll the last two years. He’s kicking ass and taking names; it’s fucking awesome. At least once a week there is always some newbie who tries to bring him down, but they always fall short.

Racing is in his blood—in our blood
—
and our father’s.

A
s useless as he was, Dad was an incredible racer. I remember spending Saturday nights anticipating his upcoming race. We would wait in the backseat of the Challenger and then, once the girl dropped her arms, Dad tore up the dirt straight away, clocking at least ninety miles per hour.

I can give credit where credit is due, Jeremy and I would
n’t be so into racing if it not for my dad; well, and Reggie. He’s about as obsessed about it as we are. He has taught Jeremy how to properly handle the Challenger and has shown me the basics of hustling.

Rolling to my side
, I can’t get Delilah out of my brain. The initial desire to have sex with her has dwindled and I start really thinking about the kind of person she is. At first, I compared her to the snobs who live on the Northside, only good enough for bagging and that’s about it. Now, though, when I really look at her and see the concern on her face for the scene she’s walked through at the children’s rescue shelter, I realize she’s a lot more than a fake, plastic bitch. She actually has depth and compassion for something other than five hundred dollar shoes. Of course, Delilah is sexy as hell, but it’s what she has underneath that’s resonating inside of me.

I
dig her spitfire personality and I think I just might want her in my life; as a friend, not a conquest. I wonder if that is something I can actually be with a girl who’s not family.

Summer challenge for Jake Evans
: make Delilah your friend.

I lightly laugh into the air. God, I’m a douche for making a stupid pact to myself,
yet it has promise, doesn’t it?

W
ith that, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

***

I make my way up the stairs and step into the kitchen. I’m still tired as hell and my body could definitely use more sleep. The little redhead and her friend wore me out last night, more so than I’ve ever experienced, but I was man enough to handle both of them—fucking dirty, little sluts.

I pull open the f
ridge and run my eyes across its contents. Mountain Dew it is. I crack the tab and start chugging it down when the all too familiar voice of Delilah floods the kitchen.

“You know how bad that is for you. It’s
practically liquid diabetes. Especially when that’s all I ever see you drink besides liquor.”

Finishing the remaining contents, I toss the can in the trash and let out a huge burp. Delilah ha
s look of revulsion on her face; scrunching her nose up, causing her brow to wrinkle. She’s already starting to get on my nerves. Now it’s my turn.

“You know, cupcake
, you have the cutest little wrinkle above your nose when you scour at me.” I tap my finger just above her nose, pointing out exactly where the indent deepens.

Expelling a deep breath
, she says, “Jake, you’re not living up to your promise already.” She takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest. Yep, she is so sexy when she’s annoyed. Another reason I need to keep it up.