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Authors: K. Webster

Tags: #dark romance, #taboo, #suspense, #new adult

Sweet Jayne (7 page)

BOOK: Sweet Jayne
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“Ghost,” Lena, the department receptionist, greets as I walk into the building. “Head on over to the conference room. Chief is making a statement to the press. He came in with Jayne’s stepdaughter.” Her eyes widen and her dyed red eyebrows fly to her hairline which perfectly matches her brows. “This town is going to have a field day with this one,” she mumbles as she shifts through papers on her desk. “He’s like twenty years older than her. Why are we even having a press conference over this?”

Who the hell knows anymore in this town? I grunt but storm past her, ignoring her question. “Don’t be a gossip, Lena.”

Striding past my office, I eat up the distance to the conference room with long and purposeful steps. As I approach, I can see everyone in the department squished inside, including a couple of reporters from the local news stations. But Lena’s right. Since when
is
the police chief’s engagement newsworthy? The whole thing is fucking weird.

“The Jayne girl grew up to be a hot piece of ass,” Bart Stokes, mutters to me as I squeeze into the room. “Have you seen the tits on that one?”

Jerking my head to him, I sear him with a scathing glare. “Maybe Chief would like to hear that comment?”

His cheeks redden—the devious smile falling off his face—and he drops his gaze to the floor. I’ve followed her life for so long that I almost feel a proprietary sense of ownership over her. She’s
mine
to ruin and destroy. It’s already bad enough Logan’s marrying her. I don’t need every other asshole in this precinct falling for the duplicitous bitch.

I want to be the one to make her fall.

And I know just how I’m going to do it, too.

Pushing through the crowd, I make my way to the front. Logan is imposing his commanding presence over the audience in his dress uniform. Neatly styled hair. Clean shaven. The complete embodiment of police perfection. When I finally bring her down, Logan too will no doubt suffer for her sins. It will get ugly and there will be consequences for my actions. But I will ride out of this town in a blaze of glory, my vengeance in hand, knowing that justice has been served against this gold-digging whore.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Logan’s voice thunders. “I know this is a little out of the ordinary for you all, but I have an important announcement and wanted everyone in on the great news. I’m getting married.” He flashes a white smile which earns responding camera flashes. The man is a natural in front of a crowd. “Please meet my fiancée, Nadia Jayne. You may all recognize her as the daughter of my good friend and hotel and resort tycoon, Donovan Jayne. We plan to marry in the spring and I can’t wait to start my life with this incredible woman.”

Cameras flash and my eyes finally fall to her. No longer does she look to be the little broken bird from last night. No, today she’s got her armor up and rewards the crowd with a winning smile she no doubt learned from Logan. Her hair is no longer messy but hangs in long, silky waves over her full tits, framing the soft features on her face. Her face is painted with a bunch of expensive looking makeup, certainly not the kind my sister used to wear, and she almost looks pretty. To everyone else. I can see how they’d think she was hot. Her eyes scan the people in the room and when they find mine, they stop. I watch with fascination as her pupils dilate and her pouty lips, which are stained red, part open.

Those lips will be the first step in her fall.

Her perfect, white teeth bite down on her bottom lip creating a beautiful contrast. Those lips are the color of blood and I feel my cock twitch at the idea of spilling some of hers. How fucking amazing would it be to run my sharp pocketknife along her throat and puncture the skin below her right ear. I could gather up her tainted blood with the pad of my finger and smear it around her mouth to see if it really does match her whorish lipstick. Would she suck herself off of my finger?

A shameful heat creeps up my neck as I realize I’ve given myself a hard-on fantasizing about her blood. As if realizing I’m turned on by her, she bats her eyelashes in an innocent way and sends me a meek smile. The smile is only meant for me, and it only serves to add fuel to my fire of hate.

How dare she try and play me at my own game?

I scowl at her until she breaks our gaze, a frown marring her enticing features. Logan continues rambling but I don’t hear a word of it. I need to get the fuck out of here.

I need to think.

Prioritize.

Set my plan into motion.

Pushing back through the crowd, I escape the suffocating presence of her and unlock my office. Closing the door behind me, I remove my coat and roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. I slip my iPhone into the dock and turn on some Led Zeppelin. As “Stairway to Heaven” starts playing, I begin to relax. Surprisingly enough, my love for seventies music was something I’d gotten from Donovan. Back when his brother worshipped the ground he walked on, and as a result, so did I. Funny how things change. That all seems like a lifetime ago. I’m staring out the window, contemplating my next move with lingering thoughts of my old friend hanging in the air, when a small knock on the door jerks me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I bark out but remain turned away from the door.

The door clicks open and the muscles in my back tense. It’s her. I recognize the way my body flares to life with a hatred that makes me tremble when she is near.

“Um, Ghost?” she calls from the doorway. “Things were getting a little hectic in there. Logan asked me to come sit in your office until he’s finished.”

I turn to regard her and have to physically force the look of disdain from my features. My plan won’t work if I start by scaring the shit out of her. With a sigh, I motion for her to sit down at one of the chairs across from my desk. “Close the door behind you.”

She presses it shut and leans against it, folding her arms over her chest. The white cardigan she wears over a peach colored dress gapes between each button. It’s a pathetic attempt at hiding her generous breasts. When she clears her throat, I snap my gaze to hers, realizing I’ve been blatantly staring at her chest. To disarm her, I flash her a grin that works for every chick. One of those lopsided, smug grins that melts women like butter in my presence.

And thankfully, Nadia is no exception.

“Led Zeppelin,” she says with a smile. “I approve.”

“So glad I have your approval.” My chest tightens and I clench my teeth. I don’t need her goddamned approval but I placate her anyway.

Her lips part open again and she tears her gaze from mine, focusing on the nameplate on my desk, but when she reads it, her brows furrow as if something just clicked in her pretty little head.

Did someone finally learn how to pay attention?

Where were these fucking skills a decade ago?

I wonder if she’s putting together the fact that I’m Kasey’s brother. If she’s afraid of me for that very reason, she should be. Because of her lack of description of the man who took my sister, she single-handedly ruined my life. Surely, she senses I’ll ruin hers too. The thick curtain of hate hangs between us with no intention of being pulled away. It will always remain in front of me, veiling the beautiful woman before me with the constant reminder of her fortuitous mistake.

My sister was my everything. She and I had lost so much together. We had been bound by a grief that made our hearts bleed together. It was my responsibility to take care of her, just as my best friend had vowed to at one time. He gave up everything for her and I was hell bent on picking up where he left off. I owed it to him and to her. As soon as college was over, I was going to come back for her and make sure she had the life she deserved—a life Dale and Mom could never give her while they loved the bottle more than they loved her. I’d had it all planned out. Kasey wouldn’t have had to feel hopeless anymore. The heartache would have eventually gone away. I was going to fix my sister and keep her safe forever.

The rage ripples through me, heightened while in Nadia’s presence, but I have to get my emotions in check. To watch her fall, I’ll need her trust and eventual adoration. It will be more climactic. Beautiful. Deserving.

Needing to put my plan into action, I stride over to her, crowding her space. I’m shocked when I inhale the sweet scent of lemon. I half expected her to smell like sour deceit.

“How long have you two been dating?” I question. I’m standing close enough for my breath to blow some of her hair from her face. The urge to push the dark strand out of her eyes is strong.

She lifts her chin and her brown eyes lock onto mine. They widen and dart around almost frantically. You’d think I’d just asked her where she hid a body because the guilt and horror on her face is plain as day.

“A couple of months...like Logan was saying during his um, speech.” Her voice is soft, timid even. I like the way her chest heaves in my presence as if she knows deep down what I’m thinking. Of how I want to obliterate her perfect little life and spit the remains in her face once my dirty work is done.

My eyes become fixated on her lie-spouting mouth. When she swallows, I can’t help but stare at her slender throat. But the moment I see a dark shadow ringing her neck, I furrow my brows. I’m wondering why the fuck she’s slapped on a shitload of makeup to cover up a bruise.

“What’s this?” I ask and drag my finger somewhat forcefully along the bruise, smearing the makeup away.

“¡Mierda!” She winces at the touch, making my cock twitch at her show of pain, and her eyes narrow. “Nothing,” she lies.

I seize her throat with my hand but don’t squeeze. Gently, I press against the bruise and watch with glee as she clenches her jaw in pain. Her bottom lip wobbles and I have the urge to bite it so it’ll stop. Now my cock aches as it stretches the fabric of my slacks, eager to play with the stupid whore.

“What are you hiding?” Dipping forward, I inhale her lemony scent and briefly wonder if she tastes tart or sweet.

“I’m not hiding anything.” More lies. She squirms but I don’t release my grip on her neck. I’m not squeezing her, just simply restraining her.

“Are you happy?” My question carries an angry hiss, my lips just a breath away from hers. I could bite her lip easily right now. The craving to do so is making my entire body tense with need. I want to hurt and punish her.

Her eyes find mine and she nods. “Yes.”

I should hate that she’s happy while my sister is dead somewhere probably in a shallow grave with bugs eating at her remains. But what thrills me is that she’s lying. Her transparency makes her deceit obvious. She’s not happy. And that makes not only my plan easier. It puts a genuine smile of pleasure on my lips.

She deserves to hurt and ache. To cry and scream. Nadia Jayne deserves not one sliver of happiness.

“Liar,” I say with a laugh. “Are you a kinky girl, sweet Jayne?”

Her woe-is-me and I’m-so-fucking-innocent façade falls as she pins me with a glare. “Don’t call me that.”

I throw my head back and laugh at her haughty attitude. “What? Jayne? I thought you loved being Donovan’s little girl? What’s Daddy think about you fucking his friend?”

“That’s enough,” she snaps. Her entire body ripples as if she’s seconds away from clawing my eyes out. But she remains still, a picture of self-restraint.

I wonder what Logan would think if I fucked his sweet little fiancée right up against this door. Made her scream for the entire precinct to hear. Her flawless reputation would be tarnished in minutes and the game would be over.

As much as I’d love to push my dick into her pussy and mutter how much I fucking hate her in her ear, I know I’ll take greater pleasure in her slow demise. She doesn’t deserve for it to all be over in one swoop. I want to cut her only to let her heal. Then, I want to pick her scab over and over again until all her blood has run dry. I want to scar her for life.

Her head is mine to fuck with.

She’s certainly pickled mine the fuck up.

“Awww,” I taunt, my lips near hers. “Sweet Jayne’s getting upset. Who will come to her rescue this time?”

“I don’t need anyone to rescue me,” she seethes. “Especially not some dirty cop who uses his authority to push around women.” The sudden bite in her voice shocks me.

I shake my head in disgust. I’m nothing like that asshole Dale. “I
do not
push around women.”
Just you, Nadia.

“You’re
all
the same here.”

We glare at each other for a moment. But then she goes to shove me away. I grab her wrist and push it against the door behind her to keep her in place. We’re not done with this conversation.

“Ow,” she yelps and her hard gaze falls. “Don’t push around women, huh?”

“I guess you’re right,” I huff, annoyed that I’m no better than my stepfather at the moment. I’m battling with that inner thought when I become distracted. Warmth surrounds my thumb and I flick my stare over to where my hand covers her wrist. I stare in sick fascination as blood seeps through the white fabric of her cardigan around my thumb.

“You are nothing like what I’ve been told about you from…” she huffs and shakes away her frustration before lifting her chin. Her words become cool. “You’re nothing like your reputation states.”

BOOK: Sweet Jayne
13.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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