Infinite Fear (6 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Abrahams

Tags: #contemporary, #contemporary romance, #romance novella, #college romance, #new adult, #contemporary adult romance, #romance new adult, #romance new beginning

BOOK: Infinite Fear
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I find myself pacing nervously, waiting for
the PI’s call, until eventually I cave and grab the bottle of vodka
in my bedside drawer, throwing back neat shots until my body is
numb enough to sleep.

The shrill ring of my cell startles me awake
at noon the following day. An unknown number flashes across my
screen and I scramble to answer it.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice raw from the
vodka.

“I’m returning a call,” a low and gravelly
voice replies. “How can I help?”

The PI is a man of few words. From the
conversation, I gather that his name is Murphy. He didn’t say
whether that was his first or last name. I explain the situation
with Shana to him, and he listens, occasionally grunting into the
phone in acknowledgement. I arrange to meet him at a bar downtown
to pay him, and he hangs up, without so much as a goodbye.

That was surprisingly
easy,
I think to myself as I walk out to
the kitchen to grab the coffee I so desperately need.

The week drags by at a
snail’s pace. I have five days after the phone call before I meet
Murphy. Two of them I spend so fucked up that I can’t even remember
what I did.
Those were bad
days
. One more I spent doing a drop for
Julius. The day before I’m scheduled to meet Murphy, I get a phone
call from Emmanuel telling me that his case was heard, and that he
would be spending the next year locked up for possession.
Apparently, he didn’t drop off everything he should have that
night. He tells me to keep the Camaro until he gets back, and I
assure him that I have everything with Julius under
control.

Just as I’m about to head out to some kind
of bar to drown my sorrows in a long glass and the lap of some
accommodating female, my phone rings again. I don’t expect to hear
the voice that I do.

“Hey stranger.”
Even Nina’s voice has a fuck me now
tone
.

“Hi yourself,” I say, own voice dipping low
and deep. I could use a distraction right now, and I pray that
she’s feeling lonely, too.

“Are you busy?” she asks.

“If I was, I’m not anymore. What did you
have in mind?” I answer softly.

“Jade and I are having a late lunch. Do you
want to join us?” she says.

Okay, that was not exactly
what I had in mind.
I had envisioned
something that involved less clothing and ended in multiple
orgasms. My dick, which had hardened at the sound of Nina’s voice,
had expected something else as well. But I was still up for that.
Otherwise, my only distraction would be a bottle and some random
ass.

“Sure, where?” I reply.

“Jade said something about a waffle joint
somewhere nearby?” she says.

“Meet you there,” I say before ending the
call.

Driving through my
neighborhood only adds to the increasing hopelessness I feel. Every
house I drive by has some kind of feeling attached to it. Whether
it’s a parent throwing a ball with their kid, or a bunch of
underdressed women gossiping about their neighbors, or even a
mother yelling at her deadbeat baby daddy, there’s still something,
someone real that they can feel for. Someone they can touch. My
whole life has become one fucking pity party. And when I feel like
this, I get reckless. Jade’s words play over and over in my
mind.
You are the only reason you feel
like this.
I grip the steering wheel and
floor the Camaro to the waffle place, attempting to drown out my
own thoughts with the heavy revs and white noise.

Jade and Nina are already sitting at a booth
when I arrive. I slide in next to Nina, my eyes unable to steal
themselves away from the very short leather skirt she’s
wearing.

“Hey,” I greet with a smile.

“You remember Nina, Jackson. It was her idea
to invite you,” Jade says, before taking a sip of her coke.

“I remember Nina,” I reply, deliberately
avoiding her eyes. The fact that she denied us ever meeting is hot.
It’s like an erotic secret that only we know.

“Good of you to come,” Nina says with an
absolutely straight face. If the first two minutes is like this,
I’m almost certainly gonna lose it before this late lunch is
over.

Jade and Nina chatter
happily after we order. Thankfully, the waitress with the
cantaloupe-sized breasts is not here. I don’t particularly feel
like being smothered today.
At least not
by her
.

“Jackson!” Jade’s voice breaks through the
rolling reel of foreplay I have going through my mind. “Nina wants
to show you something.”

Nina leans over, holding her phone in front
of me. The screen is blank. I feign interest as Nina pretends to
scroll through something, which I assume is meant to be a series of
photos. It’s not until her hand reaches down to grab my crotch,
that I realize the game we’re playing. Jade is distracted by a
message on her own phone, leaving sufficient time for Nina to rub
her hand up and down my dick with purpose. I stare intently at the
phone’s screen in front of me, trying to maintain my focus.

Just as I’m about it lose it entirely, Nina
shifts away, taking her hand and her phone with her. The
temperature in this dingy place has just increased tenfold. Our
order arrives then, and we distract ourselves by eating.

“So, how much longer will you be in town?”
Jade asks Nina.

“Not sure,” she replies between bites. “I
had expected to be gone by now, but I’ve discovered something in
this town that interests me. I may hang around a little more.”

“Wow, must be some discovery,” Jade grins.
“You were only supposed to be in town for a couple of weeks.”

I almost choke on a piece of waffle while
trying to stifle a laugh. Nina gives a small, barely there smile.
“No, not really. The discovery is not earth-shattering, but it
shows potential,” she answers coyly.

Jade shoots us both a suspicious glance.
Clearing her throat she grabs her bag from the seat beside her. “I
have to get going,” she says with a knowing smile.

“What, why?” I ask.

“I have something to do. I am a very busy
person you know,” Jade retorts firmly.

I feel a blasting coming on. Jade
specifically told me not to touch the merchandise. And now I’m
fairly certain that she knows that I’m fucking the merchandise. She
says goodbye sweetly to Nina and shoots me a glare as she walks
out.

“Does she know?” Nina asks.

“I’m pretty sure she knows. Subtlety does
not exactly appear to be your specialty,” I quip.

“Coffee?” A familiar voice distracts me from
Nina. I turn to come face to chest with a massive pair of
breasts.

“Give us a sec,” I say, hoping that Nina
feels like skipping straight to dessert.

“You look terrified!” she laughs.

“You would be too if you
were staring down the barrel of death.
Suffocation by silicone breasts
. She
scares me,” I say with feigned fear.

“Well,” Nina says, “I’m claiming you for
today. I think I should let her know who owns you, at least for the
next few hours.” She takes my hand, guiding it up her extremely
short skirt. The waitress watches the scene from the edge of the
counter. Nina closes her eyes as my fingers find their intended
target. I eye the waitress with an evil grin, my fingers making
small circular motions in between the soft folds of Nina’s thighs.
I feel a little bad for the poor woman. Her face is beet red, and
I’m not sure whether it’s from arousal, embarrassment, or sheer
abject horror. Without any warning, Nina’s thighs clench around my
hand and a small groan escapes her lips. She turns to me and
delivers a very satisfied smile.

“That was round one,” she whispers, leaning
in closer to my neck.

Nina is daring, dangerous, and so fucking
hot. The waitress walks over, her eyes completely devoid of their
normal flirtatious glint. “Anything else,” she practically
spits.

“We won’t be needing dessert after all,”
Nina says sweetly. “But I could really use a cigarette if you have
one.”

The woman turns on her heel and walks
quickly away.

“You are pure evil,” I whisper to Nina.

“I’ve been called worse,” she shrugs with a
guilty grin.

Just as I’m trying my hardest to come up
with a witty comeback, Nina’s phone vibrates with a message on the
tabletop. She immediately picks it up and quickly scans the
message. Without another word, she grabs her bag and stands.

“I have to take a rain
check, I’m sorry,” she says looking down at me. I almost see the
apology in her eyes.
Almost
. “I’ll make it up to you,” she
continues. Again, I almost believe her.

I can’t say I’m not
disappointed that Nina had to leave. Between Nina’s seeming
inability to tell me more than her first name and address, and her
no kissing on the lips rule, I feel like I barely know her. Yet at
the same time, I feel as though I know her inside out.
I’m so damn confused.
But
it works well with my plan to avoid emotional intimacy with the
opposite sex for the rest of my life.

Driving back home, I expect
to feel the need to drink huge amounts of liquor or slam my dick
into the first ready and willing female I can find, but none of
that happens. Instead I crash on my bed, staring soberly at the
stark, white ceiling above. Jade’s words continue to echo over and
over again in my mind. I know I’m making stupid choices.
I know that better than anyone.
But this cycle is so vicious. I think of Shana,
shit gets real, and I try to drown out the memories the best was I
know how. But it cuts like a knife to feel like I’m letting Jade
down. She may not have been in the same relationship as I was with
Shana, but she lost her best friend, too. And she’s not running
around fucking her life up the way I am.

Surprisingly, sleep comes easier than I
expect. Small steps. One day at a time.

Chapter 8

I’d almost forgotten what is was like to
wake up without a hangover. My eyes don’t feel like sandpaper, and
my mouth doesn’t taste like surgical alcohol. Doing a drop for
Julius this morning is necessary. I need the money to pay the PI.
So I cart my ass out of bed, shower and drive over to the club.

I almost don’t recognize
Julius in the daylight. When I roll up, he’s standing outside the
club, hands in pockets, having a very serious conversation with…
Nina? W
hat the fuck?
A startled look registers on her face as she sees me emerge
from the Camaro.

I give Julius a quick shoulder bump and turn
to her. “Hey, Nina. What are you doing here?” I ask plainly.

“Not much, just leaving,” she answers
shortly. She looks good and pissed. Julius casts her a suspicious
look as she turns to walk away.

“What was that all about?” I ask, very
concerned for my coital future with Nina.

“Who the hell knows,” he replies.
“Something’s off with that one.”

I stare at Nina’s disappearing silhouette.
There has to be a reason that she was at that club. But I cannot,
for the life of me figure out what that reason might be. “Got the
stuff?” I ask, turning back to Julius, anxious to change the
subject.

“Yeah, let’s go in,” he says, still staring
at the spot where Nina stood. I get a sudden chill down my spine.
Julius believes she’s up to something. And I need to get to her and
find out what it is, before he does and significantly shortens her
life span.

Later that day, backpack in hand, I make my
way over to the drop point. As per our previously agreed terms,
Julius makes sure that it’s a one on one drop. I’m not strapped,
which is probably the dumbest thing in the world, because the
asshole I’m dealing with most likely is. Julius kept offering to
send some of his lackeys along with me, but I declined. I don’t
trust very many people, and most of those pussy idiots would sell
me out in a heartbeat. That thought causes Emmanuel to pop into my
mind. I decide to visit him after I meet the PI.

The drop goes smoothly. I
hand over a small fortune’s worth of drugs to a kid that couldn’t
be more than seventeen, in exchange for a large wad of cash. The
process truly sickens me. I want to pull the kid by the ears and
kick his ass back in the right direction. But what right do I have,
being a less than model citizen myself. Still, that’s someone’s
kid, taking his life and future into his own hands like
that.
This is not for me, I
confirm to myself as I drive off.

The bar where I meet the PI
is more of a hole in the wall joint than
Club J
, if that’s even possible. The
neon bar sign flickers above the well-worn wooden bar. The chairs
are mismatched, and not in a funky, eclectic way. The only patron
in the place is the guy I’m meeting, wearing a brown tweed suit and
an unbuttoned, dirty-looking cream shirt. It’s like throwback
central in here. I feel like the whole scene is about to morph into
a black and white speakeasy scene from an old movie.

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