Enjoy Your Stay (27 page)

Long after Coop has fallen asleep, I lay awake, listening to the sounds of the house settle around me. Jackson’s bitch left a while ago, and I can’t hear him out there so I venture out for a drink of water. I find him slumped in a chair, drinking straight from a bottle of Elijah’s Blue Label whiskey. I almost make some smart-arse remark about him getting his bum kicked in the morning when Elijah finds that gone, but then I remember how much I hate him and think maybe a good arse-kicking is exactly what he needs.

He glances up at me with red-rimmed blue eyes. Then he tilts the bottle in my direction. “Drink?

I ignore him, and give the table a wide berth on my way to the fridge—not an easy thing for a Fatty McFat Muffin like me to do. I pull out a bottle of water, and begin walking back towards the hall. I almost make it out without having to say a word.
Almost
.

“What is it about him? Is it the money, the rock-star status? His fucking hair? He have a golden cock? What?”

I spin around to face Jackson. “It’s the fact that I can rely on him, Jack. I can’t do that with you, because from one minute to the next I have no idea how you’re going to treat me.”

“The rock star, reliable? That’s funny.”

“Why is that funny?”

“Come on, Hols.” He slurs my name, leans back in his chair, the bottle still firmly clutched in his hands, and shoots me a patronizing smirk. “You don’t think he’s gonna be out there banging groupies while you’re sitting here at home, with me?”

“No. Coop’s not like you.”

“Like me?” he asks, his brows shooting upward in surprise. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just fucked Sherry-Lyn on our longue room floor, right where you knew I’d find you.”

“Yeah, kinda forgetting one thing here; you and I aren’t together.”

“As if that would matter, even if we were together and you wanted it bad enough. You’d do it. And it would still cut me all to pieces just like it did tonight. Just like you knew it would. You looked right at me as you ground her arse down on your hips and fucked her harder.”

“You chose him!” He slams the bottle down on the table hard enough to make me jump. He staggers to his feet, and takes the two long strides to get to me. “You chose him over me.”

“Yeah, and you let me go. The night Snickers died. I saw it in your eyes, Jack, so don’t you dare put all this on me.” He stares down at me like I just dealt him a physical blow. “Coop’s the father of my child. Of course I chose him.”

“Bullshit, that’s not why you did it, and you and I both know it. You chose him because it means you don’t have to feel your way through this shit. You chose him because it means your fucking soul won’t be crushed when he leaves you. You chose him because you don’t love him. Not the way you love me,” he says and threads his hand into my hair and pulls me toward him, smashing his lips to mine. He tastes like booze and Sherry-Lyn’s cherry lip-gloss, and I want to gag and tear at him with my hands and nails and hurt him as badly as he’s hurt me.

I shove and slap, rake my nails down his hard chest. Jack stumbles back a half-step, his crystalline gaze spearing me with a warning. A beat passes between us, and then his huge body is engulfing mine. His mouth covers mine, his tongue slashes my lips and pushes inside. I open completely for him. I moan and lick and kiss, just as brutally as him. Jack pushes his jean-clad cock against my stomach. He slides his hand between us, skirting my swollen abdomen, and mercilessly drives it between my legs. The nightie I’m wearing offers no defence against his expert hands. He glides his fingers over me and plunges them into my wetness. Hooking them from the inside, and wiggling back and forth.

“Christ you’re tight, darlin’,” he mutters, and I feel myself clamping down on him even more. Jack slides his fingers out of me almost all the way, and then he shoves three inside me, as far as they will go. It’s punishing and painful, and it hurts in that way that pleasure sometimes can. He strokes his thumb across my clit, and I come undone. I lean my head back against the kitchen cabinet as my pussy clenches around him. My eyes never leave his as I come hard against his hand, and his name falls from my mouth. Jack wears his smug satisfaction like a crown.

“Does he fuck your sweet cunt as well as I do, Holly?” he whispers.

My whole body goes rigid. My stupidity slaps me in the face again. Of course this was just a game. Every moment with Jack can be boiled down to games, and taunts, and who is coming while coming out on top. For the first time since we met, I no longer want to play.

“You win,” I whisper, and shove him away from me.

He stumbles back, into the table, but rights himself before his drunken arse can fall over. “What the fuck, Hols?”

“You know just how to get beneath my skin, don’t you? You always know just how to fuck me over, Jack. ”

“You didn’t seem like you minded me beneath your skin a second ago.” He lifts his hand and licks my arousal clean from his fingers. “Still tastes as fucking edible as ever, Hols.”

“Holly?” Coop’s voice startles me, but I’m guessing Jack already knew he was there. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing,” I say, too quickly.

Jack laughs. “Right, nothing. Just telling Hols she still tastes as sweet as ever.” He licks his lips, and smirks at me. “Just like old times, huh?”

I glare, unable to believe he just said that.

“The fuck did you just say?” Coop demands and edges towards us.

“He’s joking. Right, Jack?”

“I never joke about your perfect cunt, Hols, you oughtta know that by now.” Jack mocks. Coop flies forward in a rage, wrapping his hand around Jack’s throat. He slams Jack’s head back into the cabinet. Coop’s fist meets his face, and Jackson’s head rocks to the side. He doesn’t even try to fight back or defend himself. Coop hits him again, and this time blood flies from Jack’s mouth and his eyes roll back. He’s blind drunk, and so full of bitter sorrow that it’s pathetic. The Jackson Rowe I know has never been pathetic a day in his life. Coop pulls his fist back again, and I scream for him to stop. He drops his arm to his side and backs away.

Jack sinks down on the kitchen floor, slumped against the counter, his lip bleeding, his words slurred almost beyond comprehension. “Ouch, rock-sssstar finally learned how to punch.”

“Rock-star learned a lot of tricks these last few months. Keep your hands off my woman.”

“Your woman?” Jack laughs, “That it, Hols? You his ‘woman’?”

“Jack, for once in your life would you shut up, please?”

“You give your heart to him as well as your pussy, Hols? Or do I still own the both of them?”

“Fuck you,” I spit.

“You already did, sweetheart, you fucked me over well and truly. Any beating this tool can dish out ain’t got nothing on the one you gave me.”

Coop lunges for Jack again, but Elijah comes from out of nowhere and blocks his path. Coop’s fist collides with Elijah’s abdomen. Elijah grunts, his face turning about seven different shades of pissed off.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Elijah pushes Coop back, and then shoves him towards the door. “Back the fuck off, man. You need to cool your fucking head, and get your shit together before your woman and baby get hurt.”

Ana’s at my side, her arm wrapped around my shoulder, but I can’t draw my eyes away from the boys in front of me—and they are boys, because surely men have more sense and maturity than this?
Surely
.

“You sure that baby’s his, Hols?” Jack sneers from the floor. He’s blinded with alcohol and bitterness. I know that. I can see how cut up he is over this whole situation, and I know that’s why he fucked that whore in our lounge room tonight, but it doesn’t excuse this. “I mean, there’s a fifty-fifty chance.”

There’s no possibility of this kid being his, and he knows it. Apparently Coop doesn’t know that, though. I stare at him, and shake my head. Jack chuckles, and then my rage takes me over the edge. I make a leap for him, but Ana and Elijah both hold me back.

“Cut it out, Jack,” Ana scolds. She takes my face in her hands, attempting to make me see her through my fury. “Hols, you gotta calm down. Walk away, honey.”

“Yeah, honey,” Jack says. “Walk away from the fucked-up, bastard flatmate who never gave you anything but the fuck of the century.”

“That true, Hols?” Coop seethes.

“Yeah, Hols? You tell him you never had it so good? You tell him how all I have to do is look at you sideways and you’re chomping at the fucking bit? Begging me to fuck you harder, deeper, faster? You tell him how many times you come when you’re with me?”

“Keep talking, arsehole, and I’m gonna put my boot through your face,” Coop says.

“Did you tell him how I gave you head the other night while your boyfriend here watched a movie in the next room, and how I fingered you just now and you cried
my
name?”

Coop’s questioning gaze locks on mine. They might enjoy talking smack to one another, but one look at my guilty face and he knows. I don’t know where else to look.

“For Christ’s sake, Jack, shut up,” Elijah says as he kicks his mate in the ribs to get him to close his mouth.

Jack lets out an oomph, and then he wheezes, “’S’all good, I got nothing left to say, anyway.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Coop shakes his head. His gaze leaves mine, and then he stalks out.

“Coop, wait.” I waddle after him, but he’s already out the front door and taking off down the drive before I can even make it to the veranda. I watch the tail-lights get further away before the darkness swallows them completely and then I scream, and yell, and curse Jackson-fucking-Rowe so much I’m sure I just hexed his bloodline for all eternity. I storm back inside and prepare to take his arse to task, but instead I walk in on Elijah giving him the third degree.

“Think about this, man. Use your fucking head. Stop driving the knife in deeper. She chose him? Fine. Either put up and shut up, or pull your balls outta ya arse and win her back. You want her, you gotta play your cards right,” he says and stands up, and then he backhands Jackson across the face.

“Ah! Fuck, Cade! What the hell was that for?”

“You fucking talk that way about her again, and I’ll be the one to punch your lights out. That’s the woman you love, arsehole, not one of your sluts. Don’t fucking forget it!”

Jack slams his head back against the cupboard. His eyes meet mine, and my heart lurches within my chest. His gaze is full of remorse.

“I hope you’re fucking happy, you bastard. You just chased away any shot of happiness I might have had.”

He narrows his eyes, steels his jaw. “It’s not happiness if you have to pretend, Hols. That fuck-stick can’t make you happy, not like I can.

“Bullshit. The only person you know how to make happy is yourself,” I scream and storm out the front door.

Ana calls out after me, but I hear Elijah tell her to leave me be. I jump in my car, and take off after Coop. I don’t care that I look like a raving loon, barefoot and pregnant, and driving around Sugartown in only a nightie. I have one shot at this, and waiting until morning, until he’s had too much time to think about it, means I’ll miss out. I screech the car to a stop at the front of the Sugartown Hotel, and I pound on the door that leads to the tenant rooms. When no one comes to let me in, I run back to the road and start screaming Coop’s name. He opens the window overlooking the street. “Go home, Holly.”

“No. I’m not going home until you talk to me.”

Dave the publican pokes his head through the third-storey apartment he shares with his Golden Retriever and says, “Mate, if you don’t let her in, I will. Some of us would like to get some sleep tonight. You remember the seven am deliveries, right?”

Coop sticks his head further out the window and looks up at Dave on the floor above him. “Thank you, Dave, That’s really helping.”

“I don’t give two shits if it’s helping or not, mate, shut that bloody harpy up or I’m gonna kick you out on your arse.”

I smile up, and give Dave the two-fingered salute. “Fuck you very much, Dave.”

Coop points at me. “Get your arse in the car, Holly. You shouldn’t be out on the road with my baby in the middle of the night.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere. Now open the door, and let me in.”

“Goddamn it,” he yells, and moves away from the window. A few seconds later, he opens the door, and stands with his arms folded in front of his chest.

“Are you going to let me in, or should I stay out here on the road all night with your baby?” I mock.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters and stalks back up the stairs. I follow, for fear that
I’ll get left behind.

He opens the door to his room and steps inside, walking over to the bed and plonking himself down. He leaves me standing awkwardly in the doorway. I wish I had something to say to erase his anger. I wish I could erase the hurt. I wish I could erase Jackson Rowe.

I close the door behind me, and then I lean back against it and wring my hands together as I mumble, “I don’t really know where to start—”

“How about with the fact that he gave you head the other night? Let’s start there, shall we?”

“I didn’t know it was him,” I say, and tears sting my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop them falling, but they slide down my cheeks anyway. “I swear. I didn’t. I was asleep, I woke up and he was—” Coop holds his hand up to stop me.