Jet - Page 37/48


I couldn’t look at my mom or at the judge, who was watching the entire debacle with sad, knowing eyes. I didn’t even want to think about all the families in worse shape than ours who had come before his bench. I shook my lawyer’s hand, and agreed to sign all the stuff he needed to get together for my community service and legal fees. I asked him to check with the cop about getting the stuff my dad had stolen back, but he didn’t sound hopeful that that was an option.

I was walking out of the courthouse and pulling my leather jacket on over my stupid button-down shirt, when I heard my name called. I didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to talk to her, considering I was still bleeding from her picking that asshole over me the last time. There was something encoded on my DNA that made me turn around and wait for her to catch up to me, though. Out here in the bright light of day, I could see every line, every mark on her face that indicated a life lived in misery and suffering. She looked so awful and so far away. There wasn’t even a shadow of the woman that I wanted to call “Mom” in there anymore.

“Jet, wait just a minute, please.”

I swore under my breath and wished that I smoked so I had something to do with my hands. I shoved them into the pockets of my jacket and tried to keep my expression blank.

“I don’t think we have anything left to say, Ma.”

She fidgeted with the strap on her purse and refused to meet my gaze head-on.

“He’s your father, Jet. You can’t send him to jail.”

I sighed. I knew it was coming, but it still felt like a blow.

“Yes, I can. He stole from me, and he dismantled my livelihood because I wouldn’t cave in to his demands. Not only can I send him, but it’s where he belongs. I’m going to Europe for three months, Mom. I’m not going to be just a phone call away the next time he tries to use you as a punching bag. I’m not going to even be on this continent the next time he spends all your mortgage money on booze and hookers. So maybe locking him up will finally make you see you’re better off without him.”

She involuntarily touched her still-yellowish bruised eye.

“He only did that the one time and he wouldn’t have been so riled up if you just would have helped him, like you always help me.”

I laughed, and it was so broken, I felt it lash across both of us.

“Are you seriously trying to blame him smacking you around on me? Nice try, Ma, but that isn’t going to fly with me anymore. I’m finished trying to force something better on you, trying to pull you into the light. If you want to live in the dark, it’s your choice, Ma, and you have no one left to blame but yourself.”

I was going to walk away, but her hand on my elbow stopped me. Her bottom lip was quivering and I would like to say it broke my heart, but I knew her concern wasn’t for me or for herself, but for that selfish bastard sitting in a cell for trying to kill my dreams.

“If you go and he’s in jail, I’ll be all alone, Jet. I can’t be alone.” The last word was said on a whisper that I barely heard.

“You know what, Ma? Alone is better than one second spent with that asshole. I’ve spent my entire life trying to make you see that I would take care of you, that I would never leave you alone. That all changed when you let them shove me in the back of police car for trying to protect you. It’s time you start protecting yourself.”

I shook her hand off, which was surprisingly easier to do than I thought it would be. I couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t let her shadow pull me under with it, so I took a step away from her and said, “I’ll call you when I get back. Maybe the time alone will do you some good and we can talk. If not, I’m done with this. If the old man thinks he’s going to fuck with me, fuck with my band and my music, he better get a wake-up call. I tolerated it for years, because I was so worried about you and what he would do, but now I’m only worried about me. Bye, Ma.”

I walked away with the sinking feeling I was walking away from her for good. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called the Marked, the tattoo shop where Cora and all the boys worked. Since the shop had caller ID, Cora was less than professional when she answered the phone.

“Hey.”

“Hey, is Rowdy around?”

“Did you just get out of court?”

Man, that little pixie was like a pit bull when she had something in her teeth.

“Yeah.”

“How did it go?”

“Fine. Seriously, Cora, I want to talk to Rowdy if he isn’t busy.”

“You know all of them are going to be hounding him to know what happened as soon as he gets off the phone with you anyway, so you might as well just tell me, so I can tell them. It saves everyone time.”

I sighed and relented.

“I got a ton of community service, a million fines, and a restraining order. The old man got the cuffs and a ticket to lockup. I’m sure my mom is going to try to bail him out, but the cop assured me the theft was enough to keep him there a for a good long while, and that the bail isn’t going to be cheap. I’d like to say he was gonna be there for the whole time I’m gone, but I don’t know that it’s very realistic. I’m fine, Cora, really.”

She muttered something under her breath and I heard her call Rowdy’s name across the shop.

“I’ll consider you fine when you stop playing hide-and-seek with Ayden and just talk to her.”

I snorted. “That ship has sailed, girly.”

I think she was going to snap something back, but I heard the sounds of a scuffle and Rowdy’s gruff voice came on the line.

“Yo.”

“And it’s team Jet for the win.”

“No doubt, dude. What’s up?”


“What does your schedule look like today?”

“Hold on a sec and I’ll check it out, that is if I can get the Tasmanian Devil to move her fine ass outta my way.”

I heard Cora shriek in outrage, and more scuffling sounds, only this time male laughter rang loud in the background.

“My last appointment is at four and it should be quick. Some girl who just wants a little fleur-de-lis on her foot.”

“Wanna start something for me?”

“What did you have in mind? Something big or something little?”

“Big.”

“We won’t have time for that before you leave.”

“I know. I just want you to draw it and get the outline done.”

“Talk to me.”

I had been thinking about it since the studio got trashed, since Ayden had pulled out my heart and tossed it away. I wanted something that captured the way music exploded out of me, the way the fire flowed in and out of me with the words when I was onstage.

“I want an old-school microphone broken, like split open, with a bunch of fire spilling out of it. It needs to look shattered and rough, not old-school or traditional.”

I could hear him scratching stuff down on paper as I talked.

“The fire needs to be hot and out of control and I don’t care how big you make it. My whole back is open, so you have whatever space you need.”

He whistled between his teeth.

“All right. I’ll get something sketched up and text it to you. If you like it, stop by around five.”

“Don’t worry about the text, just draw it and let’s go. Come on, dude, you know me; this tattoo is all about me and my music. I know you got it.”

“You can be totally insane, you know that, right?”

It was funny because for the first time in a long time, I was feeling like I had things figured out and insanity played no part in it.

“Don’t they say all great art comes from suffering or madness?”

He laughed. “I think you have both of those covered. I’ll see you later.”

I had avoided going to the house during the day, on the off chance I would run into Ayden, but I didn’t want to be in court clothes anymore, so I decided to risk it. I swore out loud when I saw her Jeep was still parked in the driveway. I locked my jaw and decided I was grown-up enough to handle a run-in with her, even if looking at her made all my exposed parts hurt.

I pulled the front door open and stopped dead in my tracks. Clearly she had just gotten back from a run, because she was in those stretchy black pants that made her legs look like something out of a wet dream, and a sports bra and nothing else. That was entirely too much skin, and too much Ayden for me to deal with in my current state of mind, so I was just going to slide past her, and totally pretend like I didn’t even see her in all her too-hot-for-my-own-good glory. Apparently she had other ideas, because she put down her water bottle and leaned back against the sofa to stare at me.

“How was court?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how she knew where I had been, but then I remembered the fancy duds and the fact that Cora had the biggest mouth ever. I shrugged out of my leather jacket and tossed it next to her, and counted backward from ten until I felt like I could talk to her. I wanted to interact with her without spilling and choking on all the bitterness I struggled with every day.

“It went fine.”

I saw her look away. Clearly she was as uncomfortable as I was.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

I let out a bitter laugh and shoved angry hands through my hair.

“Yeah, it’s every kid’s dream to send his dad to jail because he ripped them off and tried to screw them out of a chance-of-a-lifetime opportunity.” The sarcasm was like a blade that sliced through the discomfort between us.

She cleared her throat and pushed up off the couch, crossing her arms over breasts that I would dream about until I died.

“You deserve to be happy, Jet. You deserve to take care of yourself for once.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I would much rather have her take care of me, much rather take care of her, but since that wasn’t an option anymore, I guess taking care of myself was the only choice left.

I was going to head to my room, so I started unbuttoning my shirt. Those eyes of hers were sharp and followed my every move. Her phone rang from the kitchen table and I moved to toss it to her. Everything inside me went cold and still when I saw the name on the caller ID. Sweater Vest. Goddamn Sweater Vest was calling her and I was going to incinerate the whole planet with a single thought. Without a word I handed the device to her and went to storm past her. I stopped when her hand fell on my shoulder. Those gilded eyes glowed at me with an emotion I couldn’t identify, but I was so tired of this girl twisting me up and letting me go. I couldn’t just spin out of control anymore. Being dizzy was only fun for a second.

“It isn’t what you think, Jet. None of this is what you think it is.”

Her voice quivered a little and I wanted to care, wanted to kiss her and take her to bed. I wanted to sing to her, wanted to beg her to come on tour with me, wanted to put a ring on her finger and ask her to be mine forever. Unfortunately, all I could do was shrug her off and narrow my eyes at her.

“I try not to think about it at all, Ayd.”

I heard her gasp but I just kept moving to my room. I didn’t want to hear anything she had to say to the idiot in argyle, so I slammed the bedroom door and pulled the clothes that were suffocating me off, all the while wishing I could pull the emotion she had me tangled in off as easily.