Jack Hammer (17 page)

“Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine,” Maddie, my sister, chanted my name over and over again as she jumped on my bed.

Over the last year she’d conquered the L in my name, and was now able to say the word
love
properly.

She was my parent’s miracle baby. They thought they were done when it came to kids, but out of nowhere came Madison.  I was fifteen when she was born. I remember seeing her sweet face for the first time and knowing I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was always taken care of.

I was keeping that promise. Every night when I danced—every day when I cut grass and manicured people’s lawns—I was keeping my promise.

“Madison, please,” I groaned into my pillow. “Ten more minutes.”

“But, Blaine, it’s time to get up,” she sang.

It was Sunday, and I knew I had to be in the Wilson’s yard working by noon, but I couldn’t be mad at Madison. She had no idea what I did for her, and even if she did, I wasn’t sure she was old enough to understand.

“Go get some cereal. I’ll be out there by the time you’re done.”

I covered my head with the blanket, and prayed she’d let me get in another thirty minutes of sleep. I knew her making her own cereal meant I’d have one hell of a mess to clean up, but sleep was more important than that thought at the moment.

“Yuck! I don’t want cereal. Can you make me some pancakes? Please,” she stretched the word.

My sister was the only child I knew who requested a large, cooked breakfast. She was so tiny. I had no idea where she put all the food. Most kids would’ve loved the freedom of getting up and making their own cereal. Not Maddie.

Honestly, I think she used our weekend breakfasts as a way to spend time with me, which was why I always gave in.

“Fine,’ I rasped, my voice thick with sleep.

Throwing the blanket back, I crawled from the bed before opening my eyes. I ran my palms down the stubble on my cheeks and shook my head.

The bed stopped moving, and I heard her little, bare feet as she took off across the house toward the kitchen. Standing, I stretched my sore body and cracked my neck. I felt older than my age, and I knew I was a product of the life I led.

Throwing on an old T-shirt, I covered the tattoos and piercings I knew Grandma wasn’t fond of, and I went into the kitchen. Maddie was sitting at the table with her fork in hand.

She smiled up at me, and I smiled back. She was beautiful. Her big, blue eyes reminded me of my mother’s… of my own, as well. Her olive skin, also a match to my own, was darker since the summer was coming to an end.

Her thin, straight, blonde hair—the only thing she’d gotten from our father—was a ratty mess from sleeping. The
Frozen
nightgown she was wearing, her favorite with Olaf the snowman on the front, reached her tiny feet.

“Pancakes?” I asked to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind.

“Pancakes.” She smiled.

Grandma came in while I was cooking, her wrinkled smile full of love for Maddie and I.

She was doing better. She’d just recently gotten out of the hospital. Her kidneys decided they’d had enough with her diabetes and no longer wanted to work. Basically, she’d need a transplant soon. Since she had no insurance, it was up to me to make sure the money was there when that time came.

“Good morning, Maddie,” she said, making her way over the coffeemaker.

She leaned over and I kissed her cheek before I flipped the pancakes I was making for Maddie.

We’d been living with Grandma since the accident. Moving from Georgia to New York was a culture shock at first—especially for an eighteen-year-old boy—but once I got the hang of things, it wasn’t so bad.

I quit school the first time Grandma got sick. It was easier to take care of Maddie. I finished my classes online, which turned out in my favor because I was able to graduate early. When the money from my parent’s life insurance, which wasn’t nearly enough for us to live on, started to run out, I got a job to help out.

Grandma received assistance, but it wasn’t nearly enough to take care of two extra people. Blowing off the idea of college, I went to work at a few places. I made enough money to cover food for the week, but it was always a struggle.

It wasn’t until Tommy, the owner of Golden Banana, came into the grocery store I was working at and offered me a job that things started to look up. Again, you did what you had to do when times got tough.

Grandma had no idea what I did when I left at night for work. A little fib about stocking shelves made it easier on all of us.

Placing the pancakes on a plate for Maddie, I kissed the top of her head and moved to leave the kitchen.

“Where you off to now?” Grandma asked, blowing softly at the top of her hot coffee.

“The Wilson’s place. I have about an acre to cut and some new flower beds to set up.”

She nodded her understanding.

I left the ladies of my life to fend for themselves, while I went to work.

Later, once the sun went down, I came home covered in dirt and sweat. I was dead on my feet and ready for bed. I showered before passing out, knowing the following day would be the same.

25

CHELSEY

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY
live in New York City now,” Lynn said, her face turned toward the sky as she took in the skyscrapers looming above us.

It was definitely a change from Georgia, but it was where Columbia University was, therefore, it was where I’d be for a while. It was the beginning of my freshman year, and Lynn had flown up to see me.

“It’s crazy, right?” I responded.

Handing a five dollar bill to the hot dog vender, I took my hot dog when he handed it over and took a huge bite.

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it, Chels. You wanted it, and you went after it. You’re a college girl now.” She dropped a handful of change from her purse into the cup of a homeless man in passing.  “Tell me you’ve hit some of the clubs around here.” She turned, eyeing me with excitement. “I’ve heard New York has some of the best.”

Clubs.

That’s what was on her mind.

The truth was, I hadn’t even considered anything of that nature since I moved into my little apartment close to the university. I hadn’t had a chance to make any friends, since studying always took priority, and I wasn’t about to go to a place like that alone.

Not to mention, Lynn had somehow forgotten clubbing wasn’t really my scene.

“Not yet,” I responded.

We continued to walk down Broadway, taking in the sites. She could barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t that we’d never been to New York.

We had.

Too many times to count, actually. 

But somehow being alone in the city without our parents made the place different. A sense of danger was there since we were free to do whatever we wanted.

I wanted to go back to my apartment and read, but Lynn wanted to party. So, instead of turning around and heading back, she pulled me into a store where I sat and watched her shop for a New York friendly outfit.

I listened as she told me all about the new guy she was seeing, and how everyone from school back home was doing. Basically, she talked about people I didn’t know or care about.

Boring 101.

“When’s the last time you’ve been on a date anyway?” she asked.

Her voice came from behind the curtain where she tried on clothes, and everyone in the store could hear her.

The dreaded question bounced around catching the attention of all the shoppers.

I knew the answer to her question, and I was positive she already knew it, too. I hadn’t dated since
he
left. I hadn’t even thought of another man since the minute he up and disappeared. He left me when I needed him the most. He left me to deal with life changing events like I was nothing to him. It still hurt too badly, and the anger was still fresh even though it had been a year.

I’d never experienced pain so extreme, not even when I was younger and I fell and broke my arm in seven places. His leaving left me scarred deep inside—deep in a place that still burned with fresh fire—a place I refused to let anyone else near. 

When I didn’t respond to her question, she peeked her head out from behind the curtain with sad eyes.

“You haven’t dated since him, have you?”

She hadn’t said his name, but even the reference to Blaine hurt. My lungs felt deflated, and the air around me felt too thick to breathe in. The suffocating sensation that moved over me prompted me to stand and move around the room.

“I think I’m going to step outside and get some air,” I said as I moved toward the exit.

Lynn didn’t respond, and even if she had, I didn’t wait around to listen.

As soon as the cool, outside air hit my cheeks, I felt like I could breathe again. Bending, I rested my palms on my thighs and took in deep pulls of oxygen.

I’d never admit to anyone the effect Blaine Wesley had on me. Never.

**********

LYNN STAYED WITH ME FOR A WEEK,
in no rush whatsoever to get back to Georgia.

Thankfully, she didn’t mention clubbing again until the following weekend, which meant I had a week of non-stop studying during the day, and fun girl’s nights with her every night.

When Saturday came, Lynn was waiting outside my final class with a big smile on her face.

“So, I was thinking,” she said as she fell in step with me.

“Oh, lord. That’s never a good thing,” I joked.

“Bitch,” she playfully muttered. “Anyway, I was thinking. Since I’m leaving on Monday, maybe we should go out and have some fun tonight.”

Since we spent the week doing everything I wanted to do, I knew there was no way I was getting out of having a girl’s night out at the club with Lynn. We were probably going to end up at a sleazy place where I’d sip water and check the time every twenty minutes.

“Okay,” I agreed, earning myself a shocked gasp from Lynn. “What were you thinking?”

“Okay, so I met a few girls at the coffee shop by your apartment. We’ve been kind of hanging out there every day this week. One of the girls is getting married next weekend, and they’re having a bachelorette party at a club on the outskirts of New Jersey. I think it could be fun.”

Lynn had been in New York a week, and already she’d managed to make friends. She was refreshing and easy talk to. Being from the south meant she didn’t meet a stranger and talked to everyone as if she’d known them her entire life.

Me? Not so much.

“You’re serious?” I asked.

We stepped out of the building and into the cool afternoon air. There was a slight chance of rain for the night, and already there was a cloudy haze and light drizzle.

“Hell yes, I’m serious. Neither of us are getting married any time soon, which means we have years before we can enjoy a decent bachelorette party.”

Stopping, I turned toward her and took in her happy smile and flushed cheeks. She really wanted to do this. Honestly, going to any club sounded terrible to me. At least if we went with a group of girls Lynn would have people to dance with.

That was good news for me. It meant I didn’t have to spend the night worrying she was going to pull me onto a dance floor full of sweaty people. I hated standing there and nodding my head like I knew what I was doing.

I didn’t.

“Fine,” I gave in. “What time?”

**********

LYNN AND I MET THE BRIDE-TO-BE
and a group of wild women outside my apartment. I climbed into the back of the limo and sat in the corner quietly during the ride. The girls were pre-gaming and taking shots straight out of the bottle. They were ready for a wild night of drinking and I
so
wasn’t.

The club on the outskirts of New Jersey was two hours away. By the time the limo pulled up, the girls were already slurring and removing clothes to cool themselves off.  While they were wearing short skirts and tops that revealed way too much cleavage, I’d opted for a less obvious route. My black leggings and long blouse covered me completely.

I sat and waited as the girls fell from the limo, their heels digging into the white rocks outside the club. Once I emerged, I was faced with a big, brick building. A golden neon in the shape of a banana took over the top of the building and hung over the words, The Golden Banana.

It was huge. So big in fact, I was sure with the proper equipment I could see it from my apartment two hours away.

The parking lot was full, and the music from inside the building could be heard from where we were. The rocks popped beneath my boots as I walked behind the girls and toward the entrance. I hated going to clubs. My palms were sweaty and my mouth felt dry with nerves. I swallowed hard over my parched throat.

A bald man with entirely too many muscles, tattoos, and piercings took our money at the door and didn’t even bother to check our IDs. Neither Lynn nor I were twenty-one yet, and we were used to wearing the ugly band around our wrist that kept us from drinking. It looked like even Lynn was going to get to continue to drink once we were inside. I was used to being the only sober person in the group.

When the doors opened, smoke and fog moved outside around us, and the beats from the music thumped inside my stomach. Moving through the dimly lit room, I followed the girls to the bar and stood to the side as they took a group shot and ordered their drinks.

I moved my eyes around the room, noticing there was an abnormal amount of women and only a few men skittered throughout the room. There was no dance floor, so everyone was seated and chatting loudly at tables surrounding a stage.

Then the MC started talking, and the music lifted the room. I slowly began to realize the kind of club the girls dragged me out to.

A male strip club.

I wanted to die on the spot. Literally, die and fall to the ground where I’d hopefully decompose and disappear. Instantly, I regretted not bringing my own car, but living in the city meant I rarely drove it anywhere. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t ruin the bachelorette party.

I blushed hard once a guy came out on the stage and began to dance and strip.

“Come on, Chelsey! Get into it,” Lynn yelled over the music, tugging my arm and pulling me to a table beside the stage.

The bride-to-be and her friends shoved money at the men and screamed filthy things. They grabbed at their chests and bit into their lips.

It was disgusting. They were an embarrassment.

Once the guy on the stage was done dancing and collecting the money that littered the floor, he left the stage. The fluorescents changed color, altering the atmosphere in the room. The purple lighting shifted, before landing like a spotlight on the center of the stage. The DJ slowed the music as the MC spoke into the mic.

“Now, ladies. I have a question for you.” His voice boomed into the room. “Are you ready to get hammered?”

The room exploded with screams, the women standing from their chairs and all but climbing onto the stage.

“Then welcome to the stage.” Music began playing alongside his announcement. “The teaser! The Pleaser! Jack! Hammer!”

He held the word hammer long and the music picked up in beat and grew.

A stripper stepped onto the stage dressed in all camouflage like a soldier. The rock music grew louder as he moved into the center of the stage. His camo hat was pulled low over his eyes as he saluted the ladies in the rooms.

He worked his body, grinding his hips and running his hands over his baggy, camo pants, before grabbing at his crotch. The girls next to me screamed, Lynn included.

Slowly, he opened his camo jacket, revealing the white tank top beneath. He playfully lifted the bottom of his tank with a suggestive grin, showing off smooth, cut abdominal muscles.

Finally, he ripped his tank down the center, revealing a thick chest that glistened under the lighting. Pulling off his jack and tank at the same time, he began to show more of his gorgeous body. His sexy, tan arms were muscled and his shoulders were broad. He was beautiful, and the way he moved his body was mesmerizing. My eyes trailed over his stomach, entranced by the glide of his muscles with his movements.

I began to feel the excitement of the ladies around me as he unbuttoned the top of his pants and pulled one side open like he was going to show us exactly what we were waiting to see.

Yes. I said
we
.

Not since Blaine had I looked at another man, but something about the dancer on stage was really doing it for me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I followed his large hands as he worked them over his body. He moved around the stage, until finally he was right in front of our table. The bride-to-be stood and ran her hands over his stomach. He grinned down at her with thick lips and a sexy set of dimples. His smile was all we could see since his hat still covered most of his face. 

Then his pants were gone, and the girls at my table were reaching up and running their hands over his thick thighs. Money was shoved into his G-string, which left nothing to the imagination.

He was big and hard, popping out of his underwear, and standing tall like the patriotic soldier he was dressed as. He jumped from the stage, spending extra time with the soon-to-be-bride. He thrust his hips into her as she threw her head back in laughter. His hard ass worked fast like a jack hammer, and I found myself biting into my bottom lip and wishing he’d come toward me.

And then he did.

Lynn reach out and tugged at his underwear, letting his length and thickness loose. Instead of covering it, he left it hanging out and let us enjoy how beautiful it was. His confidence only made him even sexier.

I looked away, trying not to stare like the rest of the women, and he moved closer to me. Another woman pulled his hat from his head, but with the light blazing into my eyes, I still couldn’t see his face.

The music continued, and before long his
penis
was in my face.

I say penis loosely because even though I wasn’t the type of girl to use the word, it was more of a
cock
than a penis.