Jailbait (6 page)

“No. Not like old times,” she says and turns to mount her horse. I swear she smiles too.
 

*

“Get off,” Pepper says, looking down at me from her horse. We’re at the end of the driveway, near a mailbox that’s under a lamppost. “And turn that off.”

“You want me to leave my bike here?” I ask indecorously. “On the side of the road.”
 

Pepper’s eyebrows go up. “Yeah. And keep your distance. Spartan doesn’t like strangers.”
 

I kill the ignition and pocket my keys, eyeing the big horse apprehensively. “New horse?” I ask to fill the silence.
 

“Newer,” she replies and urges the beast forward. She used to ride a dainty white horse, whose name escapes me. I should know; I went and watched her show him a few times when we were a couple all those years ago.
 

“Mystery,” I spit out as the name comes to me as well as the memories of sneaking off together into the Davenwood’s horse trailer at some fancy show on the coast. The living quarters of that thing were nicer than any house I’d ever lived in. The rich have it all and then some. “How is he?”

Pepper tenses, then lets out a breath. “He died last February.”
 

“Oh, fuck. Sorry, Pepper.” I internally kick myself. Instead of reminding her of what we shared, I bring that up. “I know you loved that horse.”
 

“I did,” she replies in a tight voice. I watch her fidget the reins between her fingers, keeping her eyes locked on the barn a good 100 yards ahead of us. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I grab it, declining a call from Alcott. I’m sure he knows about the mugging from a few hours ago and is calling to either chew me out for not stopping it sooner…or thank me for not letting it go any further than it did.

“Your dad,” I start. “How’s he doing?”
 

“Good.”
 

“That’s good. Is he home?”

“No.”

The sound of crickets and horse hooves on the brick driveway fill the silence. We take a few paces.

“Well, this isn’t awkward or anything,” I say and Pepper smiles.
 
“It doesn’t have to be.”
 

She tips her head down, and her emerald eyes meet mine. The reins go slack in her hands, and Spartan turns his giant head to sniff me. Pepper doesn’t say anything back, and we continue to the stable in silence.
 

The barn door requires a passcode to get in. If I hadn’t spent hours out here with Pepper before, I’d be surprised. Then again, her horse probably cost as much as a house.

“Want help?” I ask Pepper as she leads Spartan into a stall. She pulls the door closed before I can step foot inside.
 

“No, thanks. I got this.” She keeps the horse between us, and begins to take off the saddle. I look around the stable; it’s the same as I remember. Big, clean, and ostentatious. Obscenely so. A minute later, Pepper puts the tack away and we’re left standing in the middle of the quiet barn aisle. She folds her arms in front of herself, clasping her hands on her elbows.
 

“Thank you,” Pepper begins. “For before.” She reaches up and pushes her thick, dark hair out of her face. It’s a tangled mess, in its natural wavy state. It’s a version of Pepper the world doesn’t get to see very often, and was my favorite version of her. I felt like I was seeing something top-secret, something so rare and beautiful the rest of the world couldn’t handle it. “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you weren’t there.”
 

“Don’t think about it. I was there.” I step closer and take my time studying Pepper’s face. I hold her gaze for a moment, and then she takes a turn looking me over.
 

“You just left,” she whispers, and for a moment, I think she’s talking about the day I left years ago.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “I did all I could do. Didn’t want to get caught up in the legalities of it all.”
 

She takes in a breath, and I can’t help but watch her breasts rise on the inhale. She looks at the ground and exhales. “I’m glad you were there.” She says it like she’s not sure.
 

“Pepper,” I start, and she looks back into my eyes. She bites her lip and closes her eyes in a long blink, and it’s borderline erotic watching those lashes come together. I reach out and touch her arm. Goosebumps break out along her skin.
 

I want so badly to bring her to me, wrap my arms around her, and bury my tongue in her mouth. I want to forget all the bad shit that happened between the last time I saw her and now, and just
feel
.
 

“You look…different,” she says softly. “A good different. All grown up.”
 

The corners of my lips pull up in a smile. “I would say the same to you, but the difference is better than good. I never thought it was possible for you to get any more beautiful, yet you are.”
 

A bit of red flushes her cheeks and she drops her gaze, shaking her head. “You were never shy on the compliments.”
 

“I’m speaking the truth.” I wrap my fingers around her arm. She leans into my touch and everything fades away. I’m thinking with my dick and I grab her around the waist and smash her tits against my chest. Her body tenses but she doesn’t resist. I wait a beat, not wanting to do anything she doesn’t want, then part my legs and push her against the front of a stall.
 

I slide one hand up her back and take a tangle of that messy hair, wanting to mess it up even more. I pull her hair, and bring her head back. Her lips brush against mine. My eyes close, and I forget about everything. Everything other than Pepper.

After all these years of yearning, of missing her, of denying that the feelings I once had are still very much alive…she’s finally here in front of me, heart pounding just as fast as mine.
 

I bring my free hand up, running my finger over the smooth skin on her chest, then across her collarbone, then up to her cheek, cradling her face in my hand. She brings her hands up and wraps delicate fingers around my wrists. Finally, I put my lips to hers. She tastes fucking delicious, better than anything I’ve ever had before. I tighten my fist around her hair and slip my tongue in her mouth, kissing her hard.
 

One of Pepper’s hands goes under my unzipped leather jacket, pressed against my side. The other lands on my chin and the gesture is so intimate it almost throws me off. I keep kissing her, and run my hand down along her back. Pepper goes weak in the knees and has to hold onto me for support, kissing me back with a desperation that mirrors my own. The kiss is making up for lost time, time that was stolen from me.
 

The world spins around me, and I can’t stop kissing Pepper. I push her tangled hair over her shoulder and move my lips to her neck. Pepper gasps and digs her nails into my flesh. I nip at her tender skin, remembering the last time we were together like this.
 

I never intended it to be our last time.
 

Unable to get enough of her, I put my mouth back to hers and grab the hem of her black t-shirt. My fingers curl under the material and the feeling of her flesh against my hands is enough to make my cock begin to harden. I inch my fingers up, making my way to her breasts.

As suddenly as the kiss started, she stops it, planting both hands on my shoulders and pushing me away.
 

“Gray,” she pants. “Stop.”
 

“Stop?” I put my lips to her neck and suck. “We’re just getting started.”
 
She throws her head back and pushes her hips against mine.

“Gray,” she repeats. “We need to talk.”
 

“We can talk later,” I growl and nip at her skin.
 

“Grayson.”
 

I blink and snap back to reality. I step away, breaking contact with Pepper. What the fuck? It was just one kiss and yet I got completely swept up in her. And judging by the way she’s staring at me, she got swept up too.
 

“You’ve been following me,” she starts, waiting for an explanation. “Why?”
 

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you that.” I hate the words as they spill from my mouth.
 

Pepper purses her lips and rolls her eyes. “Convenient. Those guys…the ones in the alley. They had leather jackets and motorcycles too. Was your plan to mug someone from the gala, but then you realized it was me?”

“No. I wouldn’t do that,” I say, feeling crushed she thinks that little of me. “I’ve never seen them before in my life. I was across the street having a beer while watching a wrestling match on TV.”
 

Her eyes are narrowed. She doesn’t object, but she doesn’t accept my alibi either. “How long have you been following me?”

I consider lying so I can seem less creepy, but she already knows I’ve been driving around watching her. I risk pissing her off even more if she calls me out on a lie, and that’s not something I want to do. I lost Pepper once, I’ll be damned before I lose her again.

“About a month.”
 

“And you really won’t tell me why.”
 

I shake my head. “You said your father isn’t home, right?”
 

“He stayed at his penthouse in the city—don’t change the subject.”
 

I open my mouth to tell her I’m not, and that Alcott
is
the subject, but snap my mouth shut when I see the faint red and blue glow in the distance. The sight of police lights makes my heart race.
 

Pepper follows my gaze, looking out the sliding barn door she left open. Two squad cars followed by one civilian car slow near the end of the driveway. My instinct is to run, and I have to remind myself that I haven’t done anything wrong.
 

Not this time.
 

The cops turn down the drive, and Pepper pushes off the stall, eyes on the flashing lights. She reaches for me, and I take her hand, gently curling my fingers around her wrist.
 

“Why are they here?” she wonders out loud. “What’s wrong?”
 

My first thought is that Alcott kicked the bucket and she has to go in to ID the body or something, but he called me a bit ago. Well, I assumed it was him who called. Someone called from his phone. And I think Pepper would be told in a less
Law and Order
way of her father’s death.
 

“Do you think it’s about those guys who…who…” She trails off, unable to look away from the police car. “Maybe they got away and are after me.”
 

“If it is,” I start, “I won’t let them lay a fucking finger on you. Trust me.”
 

Pepper angles her body toward mine and stares into my eyes. “I believe you.” I take both of her hands and inch closer. I’ll use my body as a shield if I have to. Car doors slam, and people scuffle about. We wait, unmoving.
 

“Pepper?” someone calls. The voice is annoying…annoying and familiar. “Are you in here, Pepper?”
 

“Olson?” she replies, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “What the hell?”
 

“Pepper, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Oh my God!” Olson comes to a sudden halt, tan face paling. His beady eyes widen, and he extends his arm. Light reflects off the large face of his Rolex, and he points at me. “That man! He attacked Pepper!” The fucker just stands there, staring in horror at my arms around Pepper. Good thing I’m not actually the bad guy. “Arrest him!”

I take a step back when two police officers rush in, weapons drawn. Fuck.
Here we go again.
 

Chapter Five

Pepper

I fold my hands in my lap, staring at the metallic flecks of silver in the black polish on my nails. I wiggle my fingers, watching the little flecks sparkle under the harsh, florescent lights of the police station. I’m trying to keep my mind busy so I won’t think about what is going on…or about Grayson.
 

“He had on the same leather gear as the others,” Olson tells an officer. “And when I got there, he had her ring. He tried to put it in his pocket. I saw it.”
 

My eyes move to my mother’s ring, and I get a flash of it being ripped from my finger. Angry red lines run its length, and my knuckle hurts a bit if I touch it. Nothing horrible, that’s for sure. And if that’s the worst of my injuries, I’m a lucky girl.
 

Lucky, thanks to Grayson.
 

Fuck. I’m not thinking about him. Or this. Even though it makes sense and I hate that I find myself seeing logic in what Olson is saying…because I wondered the same thing.

But Grayson isn’t a bad person. Yeah, he pushed the limits when we were together, but it was to see how far he could go. Not to hurt anyone.
 

Sometimes people change. And sometimes that change isn’t for the better. I’ve never hoped to be wrong about something before, but right now I’m praying I am.
 

“Pepper,” Olson calls, and I find myself cringing. The way he says my name is like nails on a chalkboard. His tone is condescending, and he looks at me like I’m dumb, like I’m just an object.
 

He looks at me and sees flesh and dollar signs.
 

I unclasp my hands and look up at the officer sitting behind the desk. “Yes?”
 

“You need to give a formal statement.”
 

“I already gave a formal statement,” I remind him, keeping my tone pleasant. “When I spoke to the police in the alley. Nothing has changed since then. Two men attacked me, took my purse, and a third stopped it. That third man is Grayson, the one sitting in handcuffs in that room.” I look at a closed door across from us.
 

“You had a lot to drink, Pepper,” Olson begins. “You must be remembering wrong.”
 

Punching Olson in the face would be incredibly satisfying right now. Maybe not when we’re surrounded by witnesses who have sworn to uphold the law. I clench my fist and keep my hands in my lap.