Wrong Side of the Tracks by Ashley Zakrzewski
ChapterEight
I’m bored out of my wits. The doctor insisted on keeping me in for a week, but the way Jason refuses to leave my side, anyone would think I only have days left to live. He’s been getting on the nurses’ last nerves, refusing to leave the room during examinations, bombarding the doctor with annoying questions, and even insisting on bringing in food for me in case someone at the hospital kitchen tries to poison me. Jason’s paranoia has been on high alert since the attack. It’s embarrassing, but I know he means well. When I look into his eyes, I see the devil staring back. Lethal and besotted. Crazy in love. I know he’d kill for me. He’d go to the depths of hell to keep me safe. It’s what I always wanted. A big, strong man who will sweep me into his arms and love me forever. No other guy has ever come close.
Someone knocks, and Jason stalks to the door to answer it. I hear mumbling male voices, then someone hands him a bag.
“Hey, Peaches. I asked the guys to call by your house to pick up some things for you.” My eyes bulge at the thought of them snooping around all my private belongings. I have secret things inside my dresser drawers that I don’t want anybody else to see. Least of all Tex. I can imagine him holding my vibrator and clicking through all the settings. The thought makes me cringe and wish the bed would swallow me whole. “Don’t worry, they didn’t rummage through your underwear drawer. Soapbox did that. She picked out something comfortable for you to wear when the doc is ready to discharge you,” Jason reassures me, setting the bag down beside the bed.
I flash a grateful smile, relieved to hear it. “I appreciate that.”
Jason seems fidgety today. It’s like he can’t keep still. He checks my phone to see if it’s finished charging, and I can tell it has because he removes the cable. Aside from a cracked screen, my phone still works, which I’m glad about. Like the garage, it’s insured. I’ll get a new handset and transfer all my apps and photos. I have so many treasured memories stored on the device that it will break my heart if I lose them.
“Do you want to text your mom?” Jason asks, holding out my phone.
I reach out to take it, then text Mom, telling her that everything is fine. I don’t call in case the doctor or one of the nurses walks in. Mom will overhear and wonder what’s going on. She doesn’t need to know about the arson attack, or that I’m at the hospital. She’d only worry, and so would Dad. Lying to her makes me sick to my stomach, but the last thing I want is for her and Dad to rush home. They are better off staying away, far away where Mayor Booker and his Jackal henchmen can’t get their filthy hands on them. My phone beeps with an incoming text that I read, then resume a relaxed position.
“My mom and dad say hi. I told them you and the guys have been helping me at the garage.” I swallow thickly. At least it isn’t a total lie. “She’s glad I have you guys, but I’m scared Dad will want to come back to check how I’m doing. I’ll need to file an insurance claim when I get home.”
“You don’t need to worry about that right now. The Hawks will help,” Jason says reassuringly. “You’re one of us. We take care of each other.”
“I appreciate that; thank you,” I reply, opening my arms as he leans down to hug me.
Jason’s cologne fills my airways, and it calms me. Not only do the Hawks look out for one another, but the mysterious biker who pulled me out of the fire must be a guardian angel that was sent down from heaven to watch over me. His identity remains to be seen. I wish he could have stuck around long enough for Jason to arrive, but maybe he didn’t want to be questioned by cops. Maybe he was worried Sheriff Dan would think he had something to do with it. For all I know, there’s another vigilante out there protecting the good people of Mountview.
A phone rings. It isn’t mine. Jason pulls away and looks at the screen, his brows pinched as he frowns. He hasn’t swiped to reject the call like he usually does whenever he can’t be bothered to answer. It’s one of those rare occasions when he steps outside to answer it, and that pisses me off. I try not to show it as he comes back, shoving his phone inside his jacket pocket like everything’s fine.
“I got some good news and some bad news, Peaches,” Jason says, not meeting my gaze. “The bad news is that you’re not going home until tomorrow. Doctor’s orders. And the good news is I’m gonna confront that fucker, Marcus Jackal, tonight.”
My heart jolts with shock, and I sit up in bed. “Oh, and that’s not a coincidence?” I glare at Jason. “You’re going after Marcus, and you’ve told the doctor to keep me in one more night.”
This triggers Jason’s annoyance, and his eyes flash into a pointed stare. “Damn right you’re staying here where it’s safe,” he’s quick to answer, jabbing his finger at the floor. “Don’t you dare even think about discharging yourself, or so help me, you won’t sit for a month by the time I’m through with you.”
It takes me an awful amount of restraint not to react to his alpha male rant because I know it will only escalate matters, and this is not the time nor the place to argue. I’m aware of the other patients in the ward outside this room, and I’m sure they don’t want to hear me being spanked or castigated by an overprotective biker. It’s unfair to disturb their peace when I know this is an argument I’ll never win. So, I sit here and keep my mouth shut, plotting silently and secretly around his rules just to appease his stupid male ego. There’s no point fueling his fire with more anger. And probing him for questions will only rile him up. So, I do neither. Instead, I pull on his heartstrings, putting my best acting abilities to good use, pretending to be wounded by his comment, taking my mind to a sad place where people are cruel to little puppies so the tears in my eyes seem genuine. And it works. The first ragged intake of breath is enough to make Jason stop mid-rant to console me. It’s nice when he cuddles and reassures me. I would rather him pepper me with sweet kisses than scowl at me with contempt. I blink once, and hot tears roll down my cheeks. Someone better hand me an Oscar. I’m playing Jason Knight like a fiddle, and he doesn’t even know it.
“Aw, come on. Don’t do that, Peaches,” Jason says, fussing around me. “I’m sorry I yelled.”
I wipe my eyes with my hands. “I think you should go.”
“Peaches.” Jason tries to cuddle me tighter, but I refuse to let him hold me.
He lets go, visibly upset by this.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say, my voice straining with emotion.
Jason blanches, his expression freezing with dread. “What are you talking about? You’re my girl. I fuckin’ love you.”
He forces his way onto the bed, and I have no choice other than to move over to accommodate him. It’s either that or he’ll scoop me up and haul me onto his lap, and I’m not wearing panties beneath my nightdress.
“You keep secrets from me, and I’m just supposed to accept it,” I complain, letting him snuggle against me, wrapping his arms around me, which I allow him do this time. “But if I kept things from you, you’d go all caveman on my ass.”
Jason involuntarily chuckles at my comment. He must know it’s inappropriate to laugh by the way he quickly recovers from it. I’m supposed to be mad at him, and he wants to redeem himself. “Baby, your ass is off limits until you’re fully healed. I said I’d take care of you, so please don’t fight me on this.”
I can feel Jason’s heart thumping wildly in his chest against my cheek. Is he afraid of losing me, or is there something else rattling him?
“I’ve got a gut feeling there’s something else you’re not telling me,” I mention, feeling his posture stiffen. “Just tell me what it is. I promise I won’t do anything stupid, but I need to know. Are you planning to kill Marcus? Is that what you mean by confronting him? Are you planning a biker gang standoff?”
The imagery in my head shows Jason and Marcus standing back-to-back and walking twenty paces, the winner being the fastest gunslinger in the ghetto. But this isn’t like one of those old western movies that my dad likes to watch. This is real. I’m not even sure how bikers like to settle their disputes, but I can imagine it involves violence. I trust Jason. God knows I do. But Marcus Jackal is a sly dog from what I’ve heard. He’ll probably take a cheap shot at Jason or have someone on standby to shoot him in the back.
Jason sighs with resignation. “Stop trying to guess. If I tell you what’s going down, it could blow everything. The less you know, the better.”
I lean up to give him the stink-eye. “Jason, this is not okay. Stop treating me like I’m Bodie’s little sister and start respecting me as your partner. I want to know because I care what happens to you.”
Jason slips his hand beneath my nightdress and walks his fingers along my thigh. “And I care ‘bout what happens to you too. For the record, I’ve never looked at you like Bodie’s kid sister,” he rasps, making me tingle in all the right places. Jason turns to get a better angle, his hot breath tickling my neck as his fingers reach my slit. “I’ve always had my eye on you ever since you flashed that big juicy peach at me in your gym skirt.”
“I thought you said I had a fat ass,” I grumble, even though what he’s doing feels so good.
“I said it was like a big, ripe, juicy peach,” Jason clarifies. “I couldn’t exactly say I wanted to bite it in front of Bodie now, could I?”
I huff a lazy smile. “What else are you supposed to do with peaches? You’re supposed to bite right into them.”
“That’s easy. You’re supposed to enjoy how goddamn juicy they are and savor the fuck out of them,” Jason replies, his octave dropping to a sensual husk, brushing his lips against my skin, the vibration of his voice humming against me.
Jason is using seduction as a distraction tactic, but if he thinks I’ll abandon my quest for answers, he’s dead wrong. It just means I’ll take whatever he gives me like the greedy girl I am, and then we’ll resume our talk later. This little stunt is only delaying the inevitable. He’ll come to learn that about me. One way or another, I always get my way.
“Hm, I prefer grapes over peaches. Same with plums. I always hate how messy they are,” I say, my voice fragile and breathy as Jason strokes between my folds, plunging a finger inside my pussy. “The way the juice rolls down my chin.” He drags a drenched digit through my slit and starts rimming my pebbled nub. “Then drips onto my chest, running straight between my tits and then soaking into my bra.”
Jason chuffs a soft laugh. “That’s the best part, making a mess and slurping those juices, then cleaning the droplets with my tongue.” His strokes send sparks to my pleasure receptors, making my stomach muscles clench.
“Uh, Jason,” I moan, and his face scrunches as if in pain, loving the sound of his name on my lips. “Someone might walk in.” I tip my head back as my orgasm hits like an earthquake.
“That’s it, baby. Let go,” Jason groans. “If the doctor walks in right now and sees your cum face, he’d leave the room iron hard.” He removes his soaked finger, then gets off the bed, moving into position so he can bury his face between my legs. I’m so unprepared for it. Still so touch-sensitive. I give a strangled squeak as Jason tongues my clit, the soft, textured heat dances around my pulsing nub, skilled, and tactile, leaving me gasping for breath, thighs trembling before another frisson of ecstasy shatters through me and wrings me out.
“Uh,” I gasp loud enough to raise suspicion, the lights flickering behind my eyelids.
Jason tongues me until I can’t take anymore, then wipes his mouth against my inner thighs. I hear the creak of his zipper and the rustle of denim. He crawls over me, covering me with his heft, then plunges his pierced appendage straight to the root. My pussy sucks down the entirety of his length, creating a vacuum of suction as Jason thrusts. We’re half-clothed, and if anyone were to walk in here, they’d get a vulgar view. The bed creaks as Jason rocks against me, his bare ass grinding against my groin, his spread legs keeping mine wide open to accommodate him.
“Fuck, you got me,” Jason groans into my ear. “I’m gonna cum.” His face scrunches with pleasure, and he thrusts harder as he cums.
For a long while, I forget everything else and enjoy the safety of being wrapped in Jason’s arms. It feels like I’ve rested my eyes for five minutes, but as I wake with a jolt, I can tell by looking through the window at the inky night sky that it’s much later than I thought. Jason is gone. My mind fills with panic, and I grab my phone from the nightstand. With trembling hands, I drag my finger around the home screen, drawing the security pattern that unlocks the device, then accidentally tap an app. My family tracker app that Bodie set up for me. I’m about to close it, but something weird catches my eye, and it’s enough for me to rub the sleep from my eyes and look closer.
“It can’t be?” I utter bemusedly, seeing my brother’s location marker moving toward the old container units behind the industrial park.
But it is. I see it clear as day. It’s telling me that Bodie is here at Mountview and not sitting on a cloud wearing a toga, a fluffy pair of angel wings, and playing a golden harp, with a halo on his head.
“No, stupid.” I tap the palm of my hand against my forehead. “He’s dead. Someone has his phone.”
I mull it over for all of two minutes before swinging my legs out of bed and snatching up the bag of clothes. My gut instinct is telling me that’s where Jason is heading. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t just sit here and wait. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to Jason and I could have done something to stop it. So, I sneak out of the hospital, which isn’t easy. It’s miles away in the wrong direction. The only way for me to get there is if I hitch a ride or take the bus. Hitch-hiking is sketchy. Even in an emergency. The busses will take all fucking night to get there. But then I see a nurse get out of a cab, so I rush to catch the driver before he goes through the barrier. He agrees to take me most of the way, which is fine. It leaves a five-minute walk. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ll be able to navigate my way around using the tracker app. It’s a small price to pay for the truth.