Keeping Jahleel (Loving All Wrong #1.5) (10 page)

When I woke up, I was alone in his bed with his bloodied heart beating in my palm, and he was nowhere to be seen. The video ended with me crying ugly tears over his heart while having flashbacks of our one night spent together.

Silly, I know. But that video has been number one on MTV, BET, and VH1 for the past eight weeks with way over one hundred million views on YouTube. And there were tons of questions on whether there would be a part two to the video, as fans wanted to know what the hell happened to the sexy hunk, where did he go, or who took him. Bitten was on top right now.

Claire turned excitably and tugged on the sleeve of Jahleel’s white thermal tee. “Look, Daddy, it’s the vampire lady who bit you!”

“Claire—” Jahleel started to say, eying me oddly.

But Claire chatted on, turning back to me. “Daddy said you bit him. And that he no longer has been human since. That you took his bloodied heart and ran away with it and we watched your video over and over and—”

“Claire!” Jahleel admonished, aiming to shut her up, shooting me a sheepish glance.

But this was much too juicy, so I grinned at Claire with widened eyes and prodded, “Really? What else did
Daddy
say?”

I wondered if she’d continue despite Jahleel’s warning, but then I remembered him telling me she was rude and disobedient. He’d gotten her to acknowledge him as her father, and to cry for him when she missed him, but maybe he hadn’t gotten her to start obeying yet.

I was proved right when Claire spared without remorse, “That he doesn’t want his heart back from vampire lady.” As if to remind me who vampire lady was, she added, “That’s you.”

When I glanced over at Jahleel, he was staring out the window, avoiding us, no doubt cheesed-off that Claire was spilling his secrets.

Without taking my eyes off him, I told Claire, “Don’t worry, I don’t
ever
intend on giving your Daddy his heart back. Not even for a thousand hearts in a jar. His heart is mine.”

At those words, Jahleel’s Adams apple bobbed in his throat, but he refused to look at us still.

Oblivious to her father’s discomfort, Claire yapped on, “My Daddy says that when I grow up, I am going to get bitten, too! I can’t wait! And he says I am never ever going to be the same never ever ever never again. Is this true, vampire lady?”

Sighing audibly, Jahleel dropped his head back on the headrest and slowly turned his gaze to me.

His face was blank. Impossible to read. But by this point in our relationship, I knew whatever he was masking beneath that blankness, was love. For me.

Eyes locked on his, I answered, “This is true.”

B
y the time we got to the dock, my mood about the breakfast cruise had altered immensely, because Claire and I got along surprisingly well.

She was the sweetest little thing, which left me befuddled about Jahleel’s assessment of her being boorish. Except that she talked a lot—the whole journey to the dock—but with my sister, Timber, I was used to that.

I did get her to refrain from calling me “vampire lady,” but she kept pronouncing Saskia as Sastia. Sounds familiar? Yep. The same “mispronunciation” Jahleel had made back in Manchester when we first met.

Jahleel led ahead, seemingly annoyed he was being ignored altogether, while Claire and I trod behind chatting about inconsequential things, her little hand clasped in mine.

I wore an ankle-length, sleeveless white dress that Jahleel had bought specifically for this occasion. My hair a riot of stubborn curls around my face as usual. Conservativeness appeased his parents, he’d told me, even though he was casual in white jeans, white long-sleeved thermal tee, and white Jordan sandals. The early morning sun bounced off the inconsistent waves of his hair, and his now clean-shaved face seemed to glow somehow. Was that glow happiness?

He stopped at a yacht I estimated to be around a hundred feet, with
KINGSTON
slapped in bold letters on the side. Turning to us, he bent to lift up Claire in his arms, kissed her on the cheek, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips.

“Greatest commandment?”

My eyes went heavenward.

While we got dressed this morning, he’d briefed me on some of the basic Christian laws that his parents may or may not ask to test me, telling me it was imperative that all people, sinner or non-sinner, knew the greatest commanded of all. He’d taught me some other stuff about being fallen from grace and all that, but if I claimed to remember any of it, I’d be lying.

However, I did remember the greatest commandment, since it was
so
“imperative.” “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and soul. And the second, love your neighbor as yourself.”

“Guess we’re ready, then,” he said, nodding in approval, looking more like a couth, urbane man and less of the pronouns-and-”ing”-eating rebel we both knew he was. “As I said, you don’t have to worry about my parents. They’re perfect. So annoyingly perfect you’ll be begging for some antagonism.”

Felicity pulled my lips in a smile as I leaned in for a better, longer kiss. He took it as I gave it. I loved him so.

Apparently bored with our tongue-locking, Claire rubbed her eyes and fussed. “Daddy, when are we going out on the water like you said?”

Jahleel chuckled and broke away, flicking one of Claire’s pigtails. “Now, bad girl.”

Turning back to the yacht, he carefully jumped down on the boat with Claire on his side. Once safely there, he lowered Claire down beside him and twisted around to help me down, but I was already leaping on my own.

He scowled at me when I landed, and I flashed him a chuffed grin and flipped my hair. “I’m a ‘badass,’ remember?”

“You could’ve hurt your ankles, Sassy,” he worried, wrapping one long arm around my waist and clasping Claire’s hand with the other as we entered the boat.

“Awww,” I teased, laughing. “You’re worried about my ankles.”

Claire broke free just then and bolted off into the opulently designed yacht, screaming, “Kwissy!”

She spoke so perfectly well, but still mispronounced people’s names. Kids were unfathomable.

Ahead of us in the belly of the boat, Krissy was crouched down with her arms open wide, and Claire ran smacking right into her, blabbing on about a whole jumble of things.

Sitting at a dinner table on the left of the room were two famous faces of Christianity, Mr. and Mrs. Kingston, along with a way-too-pretty man I knew to be Jahleel’s adopted brother, Trey.

They all stared in our direction, and Jahleel tightened his arm around my waist to remind me he was right there.

This was where I should smile and say my greetings to everyone, but I was too distracted by what was on Krissy’s head. She was sporting one of the ‘JK’s Babe’ ball-caps the fans were wearing outside the club the night before.

Was she doing this to exacerbate my psyche, or to make fun of Jahleel? No idea, but either way, I didn’t like her wearing that hat, knowing he’d chosen her over me before. For all I knew, this was to rub it in my face, telling me
she
was JK’s Babe.

As if realizing where my thoughts were, Jahleel squeezed his fingers into my waist and prompted my feet into action, propelling me over to his parents.

“Mom, Dad,” he said when we reached up to them. “You wanted to meet her, so here she is. Saskia Day. My fiancée.”

Too-Pretty Trey snorted, and the father shot him a look of reproof.

“What?” Trey laughed bitterly. “The word fiancée just sounds awfully funny coming from this man’s mouth. Don’t you think?”

Too-Pretty Trey was, well, way too pretty. He had healthy, long blond hair which was parted in the center and flowed down the sides of his face, going far beyond shoulders. His skin and complexion were unbelievably unblemished, not even a freckle. But he needed more flesh on his bones. He wasn’t hot or fierce or anything like that, just ridiculously pretty for a man.

Jahleel ignored his brother’s remark.

To move on from the one-sided bicker, I stuck my hand out to the father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kingston.”

Mr. Kingston looked at my hand, his gold gaze traveling up the length of my arm, taking in the myriads of tattoos there. He was an older version of Jahleel. Exact eyes, hair, and bone structure. Jahleel stole his looks right from his dad.

When he just stared at my ink, my neck burned with embarrassment. He didn’t like me. Nor my tattoos. He probably thought I was a rebel or a spoiled super star who did drugs and made orgy sex tapes.

As I lowered my rejected hand, he stood up, towering over me with his impressive height, and suddenly hauled me in for a bear hug.

“Child, we don’t shake hands in this family. We hug. Tight.” Then he kissed me on both cheeks. “Nice to finally meet you, Saskia. The
one
who was strong enough to take my stubborn boy down. This is one prayer answered, praises be to God. My next prayer is to get him to be a part of our ministry.”

A smile was all I gave him, as I had no idea what to say to that.

The mum, a modest beauty with brown shoulder length-hair and brown eyes, the perfect complement to her husband, stood up too and enveloped me into a tight hug, whispering softly in my ear, “Thank you.
So
much.”

Breaking the embrace, she pulled me off to side, Jahleel watching us with a curious frown.

“That boy,” Mrs. Kingston said, indicating her son, “I love him. And all I’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy. But every time I looked into his eyes, all I ever saw was worry, confusion, lost, rebellion, and stubbornness. And I’ve prayed and prayed and prayed so fervently for him.

“Since you, all those things been eradicated from his eyes. He’s no longer worried or confused or lost. He no longer has a reason to rebel and be stubborn. Because it seems he’s found his answer to all his questions.
You
. And now he’s glowing. And that…that gives me and his father so much joy, more than he’ll ever know. So, thank you. And please, keep him in this place that he is. Keep him. Don’t let him go. He’s a good son. And I’m sure he’ll be a good husband.”

By the time she was done talking, her eyes were watering, and I was at a loss for words.

“I love your son. Very much,” I told her, swallowing.

Sniffling, she nodded appreciatively, then mumbled an “excuse me” and tottered off.

“Everything okay with her?” Jahleel asked me when I got back to where he and his father were talking in mumbles.

“I guess so.”

“Happy tears, I’m sure,” the father filled in, giving me an older, friendlier version of Jahleel’s crooked smile.

At the feel of my dress being tugged, I glanced down and found Claire reaching her arms up to me, bouncing. I stooped down and lifted her up, shifting her to my side, and she rest her head down on my shoulder, twirling one of my curls around her finger. Just like her father would.

Jahleel studied us with a frown.

Father Kingston grinned.

Too-Pretty Trey rolled his eyes.

Then Krissy materialized next to Jahleel, tugging on the visor of her ball-cap and grinning up at Jahleel.

Shaking his head, Jahleel leaned down and kissed her nose, then snagged the cap off her head, turned and put it on Claire’s head.

“You’re my babe,” he told Claire with a conspiratorial wink.

If I said that didn’t sting a little, I’d be lying. Plus the look Krissy gave me didn’t help. She seemed to be avoiding me at all cost, noticeably giving me a wide berth.

“Hey, dude!” she protested. “I paid eight-five bucks for that hat. So either you gimme my hat back, or pay for it. And for
you
, it’s ninety-five.”

“Eighty-five bucks?” Jahleel exclaimed. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Krissy shrugged. “Yeah. And they’re selling like crazy. Every chick wants to be ‘JK’s Babe’ it seems.”

Jahleel tipped his chin to Too-Pretty Trey, asking, “You the one selling these? Word’s that some supposed brother of mine is selling them on Ebay.”

Too-Pretty Trey blinked at Jahleel, and for a moment it looked as if he’d stopped breathing. His lips parted, but nothing came out.

Krissy and Mr. Kingston stared at Jahleel with their mouths hanging open.