Jagged: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance (3 page)

“What the fuck, Taylor!” Ivy shoved me against the wall. “Carter is out of prison for five minutes and you couldn't keep him out of your bed?”

I was still broken down after the argument with Carter. Could it really be over between us? The sex was so damn good and something I'd been craving for years. Was I right to tell him we'd been broken up?

“I don't know what I was thinking, Ivy. When he showed up at my door, my brain kind of shut off. I couldn't help myself. Seeing him again awakened something that I was lost forever.”

“How did he even get out of prison? He was supposed to rot in there for decades.”

I didn't want to talk anymore next to the bed where Carter and I just had sex. I led Ivy into the kitchen and put the tea kettle over the gas stove to boil some water.

“He told me it was because of overcrowding.”

“Be serious, Taylor. You can't really believe that. Carter was convicted of attempted murder and they just don't let those kind out for overcrowding.”

“I thought the same thing, Ivy. But I think he's telling the truth. He seemed just as surprised by it as I was.”

“What if he really did escape? You could be arrested as an accomplice.”

“Be serious. Carter wouldn't do that to me.”

The tea kettle began to screech. I took it off the stove and poured the hot water into two mugs. I dipped a green teabag into each cup and handed one to Ivy.

Ivy took a sip. “Okay, putting aside how he got out. Are you with him now?”

“No. I told him we were broken up. You walked in just as we were arguing about it. He thought I'd be waiting for him until he got out.”

“He thought you'd be waiting decades?”

The green tea was hot and soothed my throat. “Not exactly. He says he's innocent. Thought that I believed that.”

“That man has some serious delusions of grandeur.”

I wanted to agree with her. But Carter was convinced he was innocent. “He's never lied to me before, Ivy. Why would he start now?”

“For starters, his story his completely crazy. And two, of course he would say anything to get in your pants one last time. How was it by the way?”

“What?”

Ivy put her mug down on the kitchen counter. “You know what...the sex.”

I flashed back to Carter between my legs, fucking me hard, making me orgasm again and again. “Let me tell you, he never lost his touch. It'd been so long since the last time. I just really needed to be fucked again.”

Ivy giggled. “I have no idea how you lasted so long. Especially with all the fresh meat I dangled in front of your face.”

My phone began to buzz on the counter. I picked it up and it was my father. “Give me one sec, Ivy.”

I answered the call. “Hey Daddy.”

“Taylor, I thought I'd come over and we can talk about your art show.”

I looked over at Ivy and she hooked her fingers into the corners of her mouth and stretched, sticking out her tongue. Ivy always tried to get me to laugh with funny faces and it never worked. She wasn't nearly as funny as she thought she was.

“Now is not a very good time, Daddy.”

“Nonsense, Taylor. I'm already on my way. See you in twenty minutes.”

Arguing with my father was like talking to a brick wall. My dad never took no for an answer. I'd hate to actually work for him.

I clicked my phone off. “Sorry Ivy but my dad is coming over.”

“You're very popular today. Should I make an appointment for next time?”

“Very funny, Ivy. I'm sorry we have to cut this short.”

Ivy hugged me close. “Just make sure to stay away from Carter. Once he gets his claws in you, he'll never let go.”

“Don't worry. My entire focus will be on getting this painting done.”

“Still got nothing?” Ivy walked into the living room where the canvas was covered with a brown tarp.

I pulled off the tarp and revealed the blank canvas. “My finest masterpiece yet.”

Ivy bit down on a fingernail, studying the white rectangle. “There's something about it that just pulls you in.” She tried to keep a straight face but failed.

I pushed her away. “Get out of here before my father comes over.”

“All right. I understand. I'll get out of your hair.”

I walked Ivy to the front door. “Thank you for worrying about me and coming over. And for the talk. I really needed it.”

“Any time. Just remember to stay away from Carter.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mom.” I closed the door before Ivy could say anything else.

I checked my phone and it had been five minutes since my father had called. I only had fifteen minutes to make this place look spotless. Artists aren't know for being clean. I also had to get rid of any trace that Carter had been here.

I stormed through the apartment, dusting and picking up all my paints and brushes. My bedroom was a disaster—sheets and pillows strewn about the room. A smile appeared across my face. Carter was so damn good in the sack.

I made my bed in record time and was able to fix my hair and makeup by the time my father knocked on the door. I looked at the apartment one last time and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hi, Daddy!” My father stood in the doorway wearing a black expensive suit. His head was full of gray hair that was combed to the side. He was always so proud that he hadn't lost any hair yet.

“Taylor,” he announced, taking me into his arms.

My father walked inside and took in the surroundings. “Did you have somebody over here?”

How did he always know?

“Yeah, Ivy was over when you called.”

He seemed satisfied by the answer and moved over to the couch. “I wanted to congratulate you on getting into the art show. I'm really proud of you, Taylor.”

I joined him on a brown chair next to the couch. “Thanks, Daddy. That really means a lot even if you were the one that got me in.” I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. My father always wished he could have a son. A man to take over his growing empire.

When I told him that I didn't want to follow in his footsteps and pursue art instead, he tried to cut me off. It took a lot of convincing but he finally came around. But I knew deep down that he really didn't approve of my lifestyle.

“I heard some distressing news today,” he said, folding his leg over the other. “Your old ex-boyfriend, Carter, got out of jail.”

My whole body froze.
So that's the real reason my father came over.
I couldn't let him know that he had already been around to see me. Carter and my father were mortal enemies. “How did he get out so soon?”

Lying to my father was the last thing I wanted to do. But I had to do it to protect the both of them.

“Sheriff Buckley told me it was because of overcrowding. I have a sneaking suspicion that something is going on behind the scenes. Have you seen Carter since he got out?”

Here we go, Taylor. Keep a straight face and mean it.
“Nope I had no idea he was even out.”

My dad narrowed his eyes at me and twisted his head to the side. “Well I don't want you around that man. He's bad news.”

“Of course, Daddy. I've been done with him for years.”

Now if only I could convince myself of that
.

“And one more thing.” My dad produced an envelope from his jacket pocket and set it down on the coffee table between us. “Here's your allowance for the month.”

I picked up the envelope and didn't even bother to look at the check inside. It was always the same amount every month. I felt silly taking an allowance from him but it was the only way to keep painting without getting a full-time job.

“We should go out and celebrate. I can take you to that sushi place you love.”

“I'd love to, Daddy, but I really have to finish my painting.” I pointed over to the brown tarp covering the canvas.

My father stood and walked towards it. “Can I get a look at it?”

The last thing I wanted was for him to find out that I had done nothing so far. “No, Daddy. I want it to be surprise.”

That seemed to satisfy him for now. We embraced and my father finally left. Did he actually believe me about not seeing Carter?

After all these strange encounters in a row, my body had a strange energy about it. I couldn't put my finger on it. But I knew what to do with it.

I pulled off the tarp to reveal the blank canvas. I knew exactly what to paint for the art show now.

The day was like any other. Blue skies with floating puffy white clouds. The MC needed me to pick up protection money from the various businesses in Saint Marks. I rode the streets on my black and chrome Harley Sportster 1200 Low, my sunglasses on and bucket-style helmet covering my head. Just another day in paradise. The Dark Souls owned this town.

After picking up the last bit of money from the local hardware store, I stopped by Taylor's before dropping off the cash at the clubhouse. She was the only woman that could make me see straight. I'd been through hundreds of women who were only good for one night of fucking. But Taylor was different. I wanted to fuck that sweet slit of hers every night for the rest of my life.

I pulled up to her dorm building and parked my bike. Taylor was going to college for an art degree and I wasn't even good enough to finish high school. What did she see in me anyways? I swaggered through the halls of the all-girls dorm. Loud music boomed out from every room while girls shuffled by me only wearing white towels and slippers. I could fuck a different hot chick every night for the next year and I still wouldn't have even broken the surface. But I was a different man now. There was only one woman for me.

I knocked on Taylor's door and it creaked open to a sliver. Ivy's brown hair and disappointed face were the only things visible. “Taylor around, Ivy?”

“What do you want, Carter?” she growled.

Taylor called from inside, “Open the door, Ivy.”

Ivy sighed and opened the door. “I'm going to go to the library and leave you two alone.” I don't know why Ivy was so hostile against me. I'd never done anything to her.

Taylor jumped off her twin-sized bed and right into my arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. How are classes going?”

“I've been studying like crazy for this Art History 101 exam. All these years are getting jumbled up in my head. I'd really like to go out and get coffee.”

Before we could leave the dorm, two officers wearing black uniforms stormed inside with guns drawn. My initial reaction was to run for it. The only exit was the window and we were twelve floors up. Nowhere to go.

“Mr. King! Put your hands up where we can see them.”

I raised my hands to the air. “What the fuck is this about?”

“You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Marquis Jones.” One of the officers with a bushy brown mustache pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

Taylor tried to intervene. “Carter didn't do anything wrong! This is a mistake. I'll have my father over here in minutes and both of you will lose your jobs.”

Her threats didn't nothing to sway them. But I loved her passion. The officer listed off my Miranda rights as the other patted me down.

“Well would you look at that. We have the murder weapon.” The officer pulled my pistol out of my waistband and handed it to his buddy. He cuffed my hands behind my back and wasn't gentle about it.

Taylor kissed me before the pigs took me away. “Don't worry, Carter. My father will hire you the best lawyer. You'll be out by tomorrow.”

That was the last time I saw her.

I was brought to an interrogation chamber where they kept me for hours without any food or water. My handcuffed wrists were chained in front of me to the table. A single light hung above giving off a small amount of light in the otherwise dark room. Nobody even came in to ask me questions.

Until Sheriff Buckley showed his ugly mug. “Well what do we have here...Carter King.”

His breath stunk of donuts and coffee as he sat his over-sized figure into the small steel chair across from me. He placed a stack of brown files onto the table. “You have quite the record, Mr. King. Assault, robbery, and too many others to list. Your motorcycle club might've gotten you out of your other charges but not this one.”

Buckley slid a file in front of me and opened it up to pictures of a black guy I'd never seen before. He was bloody and bullet-ridden, laying on the pavement. The leather cut he was wearing told me the dead guy was from the 809 MC.

“The problem is, Carter...you didn't finish the job. The man is alive and well at Saint Marks Memorial.”

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I've never seen this guy in my life.”

“Where were you today, Carter?”

“Main street of Saint Marks. I met with a dozen business owners that can verify my alibi.” There was no way the cops were going to pin this on me.

Buckley laughed, choking on his own spit. “Don't make me have a heart attack, Carter. Your alibi is exactly where the attempted murder took place.”

Fuck. Something was fishy about all this.
Taylor's lawyer should've been here by now. I'd have to call the MC and get them to send me somebody else.

“I want my one phone call.”

Buckley ignored me. “We also pulled the weapon off you that fired the bullets that hit Mr. Jones.”

“Fuck you. My gun was never fired.”

“Not according to the report.” Buckley opened another file but I didn't even glance at it. I already knew what it said.

This was all moving too fast. No fucking way the cops figured all this out in a few hours. Somebody was framing me and doing a damn good job.

“No jury would convict me with all this bullshit evidence. Any lawyer could rip this case apart.”

Buckley smiled and swiped all the files off the table. Papers and pictures flew to the ground in a mess. “We don't even need any of this. You're going to confess and wrap up this case in a nice little bow.”

“Never going to happen, Sheriff.”

Buckley pulled out a file from behind his back and opened it for me. A photo of Taylor was laying amongst other papers. “If you don't cooperate with us, we'll have to take Ms. Kyle in for selling cocaine out of her dorm room.”

“Nobody will ever believe that. Taylor's father will sue you guys so fast your heads will be decorated on pikes outside the police station by the morning.”

Buckley leaned forward, bathing his fat face in light. “It won't matter. The damage will already be done. The college would have to expel Taylor and no other college would accept her after that.”

As much as I hated to admit it, Buckley was right. I couldn't let Taylor's life get ruined because of mine.

Sheriff Buckley stood up and and opened the door. “I'll give you a moment to think about your options.”

I didn't need a moment. I'd do anything for Taylor. Going to prison was a small sacrifice if it meant Taylor could lead a normal life. “I confess, Buckley. I tried to kill him.”

Buckley grinned and left me alone.
Did I do the right thing?

The sentencing hearing came up the next day with the judge sentencing me to thirty years in prison. I kept expecting Taylor to show up and fight for me but she was nowhere to be found. The Dark Souls didn't even know that I'd been picked up by the cops. Before they could even act, I'd already be in a jail cell.

I'd never let any harm come to Taylor.