Paradox (Unearthly Paradox) (8 page)

Why aren’t you answering your phone? Do I need to call for that babysitter?

I clenched my fist, trying to keep from throwing the phone. Once I was calm enough, I replied.

I just woke up. Have been up all night studying.

I hoped that would appease him.

A minute later another text appeared.

You better not sleep in tomorrow! You’ve got an exam, and I’m going to be checking with the school to make sure you’re there.

Yes, Dad. I wouldn’t miss school for the world.
I threw the phone on the bed. I couldn’t wait for the school year to be over so I could finally get him off my back. I just wished he would stop pretending he gave a damn about what I did. The only person he gave a damn about was himself and what everyone thought about him and his precious daughter that he had raised from birth on his own. That was the lie of the century. My father did everything he could not to be in my life. Nannies had raised me. I had one from the moment I was brought home from hospital, and thanks to my father crossing the line of professionalism with each and every nanny, I had another fifteen thereafter. I was
so
determined to not make it sixteen.

I sat up, and a dull pain throbbed in my chest. I had completely forgotten about my wound. I carefully peeled back the gauze. I stared down at my skin. The wound had improved. “What the…?”

A knock sounded on my bedroom door, then Jett entered without waiting for me to give him the okay.

“Yes, you may come in,” I said sarcastically.

He smirked. “Shy, are we?”

“Ahh, I don’t call me not wanting a guy I’ve just met to see me in my underwear as being shy.”

“Swimmers, panties, same dif.”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was just Jett who felt that way or if it was part of the Gold Coast way of life. Somehow, I thought it was the latter.

“I’m guessing you’re needing to go to the bathroom?”

I scrunched up my face. How did he know?

He laughed as if he’d read my mind. “Most people have the urge to go when they wake up.”

I cringed. “And you’re planning on helping me get there, aren’t you?”

He clapped his hands. “That’s what I’m here for.”

I raised my eyebrows. “To take me to the loo?”

A devilish grin spread across his face. “Amongst other things.”

I just about choked, making his smile grow even wider.

Fortunately, he didn’t leave me sitting there with my mouth open for long. He put his arm around my back and helped me to my feet. “Are you right to walk?”

I nodded, unable to say a word because of what he may or may not have insinuated. Then I realised I was only wearing my panties, and I didn’t have the ability to quickly grab something to cover me. But if I said anything, I was pretty sure I would only embarrass myself more. So I sucked it up and went with it.

He guided me into the bathroom and right over to the toilet. He stood with his body inches from mine and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, making my stomach do all sorts of stupid things. “How does it feel?”

“Huh?”

He chuckled, obviously knowing the reaction he had on girls. “How’s your wound?”

“Oh, that.” I looked down at the gauze. “Surprisingly, much better.”

“Good.” He stepped back. “I’ll be just outside. Call me when you’re done.”

I nodded and waited for him to close the door behind him. Again, I inched my panties down and leaned back until my ass hit the toilet seat. I let my bladder go then cringed when I realised Jett was on the other side of the door and most definitely able to hear me. So attractive. In the few days I’d known him, he had seen more of me than most of my boyfriends—with the exception of Josh, who I dated for way too long and was glad to finally be rid of.

When I finished, I tilted myself forward at the same time as I pulled up my panties. I crept over to the sink and washed my hands. Once I had dried them, I shuffled over to the door, sucked in a deep breath, and opened it.

Jett was standing on the other side with a grin that I hoped was more to do with me standing there in my panties and tank top than the noise of me going to the loo. “Better?” he asked.

I bit my lip, trying to supress a smile. “Much.”

He wrapped his arm around me again and helped me back to the bed, where he proceeded to tuck me in as if I were five. “I need to take another look.” He sat down beside me.

I nodded, and Jett peeled back the gauze. The side of his hand rested against my breast as he inspected the bullet wound. I knew I should ask him something, but for the life of me, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but his hand touching my boob and wishing it was under different circumstances.

“It still looks clean.” He pressed the gauze back in place.

My brain started to function again. “Look, I know you said before that I didn’t know what a bullet wound should look like, but I’m pretty sure that it shouldn’t heal practically overnight. I mean, yesterday it looked like it had been a week since I was shot, and today it’s as if another week has passed. And I’m pretty sure that it was only last night that you were in bed with me…” I trailed off when I realised what I’d said, or rather, what it sounded like we’d been doing.

Jett laughed.

I closed my eyes and cringed for what was probably the hundredth time since I’d met him. “You know what I mean.”

“What? About us being in bed together?”

I covered my eyes with my hand and wished I could melt into the bed. “Just go.”

Jett chuckled, and I felt his weight leave the mattress. When I heard the door click shut, I removed my hand from my eyes. I couldn’t believe the effect that guy had on me. Something about him just shut down the part of my brain that usually kept me from saying dumb-assed stuff. I seemed to only feel one thing when he was around—lust. Pathetic girly lust. The type I’d want to smack out of a girl when I saw her making a fool out of herself over a guy. But I was becoming that kind of girl.

Remembering my missed call from Lilly, I picked up my phone and read her message.

The warden is letting me out on parole for good behaviour. Mind if I come over?

As much as I would’ve loved the distraction, I had no idea how I could explain the bullet wound in my chest, let alone why Jett was babysitting me. And I definitely didn’t want her thinking I was losing my mind like the police had insinuated.
Wish you could, but Dad’s got a tutor for me. Won’t be finished for hours.

Thirty seconds later, another message appeared.
I feel your pain. See ya tomorrow :)

Tomorrow?
“Shit.” How the hell was I going to make it to school then get around once I was there? Unfortunately, the only thing I could come up with was Jett. I just hoped that his offer to take care of me included helping me at school, and that my wound would make another miraculous overnight recovery.

An hour later, a knock sounded at my door. Again, Jett didn’t wait for me to answer before he opened it, but he didn’t come inside. “I’ve got to pop out for a bit. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

“Right. I’ll be back in about an hour. My brother’s downstairs if you need anything.”

“Your brother?” I raised my eyebrows. “What the hell for?”

“To take care of you while I’m gone.”

“I think I can manage ’til you get back.”

“All the same, he’ll be staying.”

The authority in his voice made me think it wasn’t up for discussion. I didn’t understand why, and I was pretty sure Jett wasn’t going to tell me. “Fine.”

He flashed me an easy smile. “Don’t miss me too much.”

I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye, Jett.”

He closed the door, and I was once again left wondering what was up with that boy and why he thought I needed looking after so badly that he would ask his brother, who I’d never met, to babysit me while he stepped out for a bit. God, the way Jett acted was way over the top for a concerned neighbour. My credit card could easily pay for a home nurse. But no, he insisted on being the one to care for me.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. I picked up the remote and switched on the TV. I flipped to the channel that displayed the living room. A guy who looked to be in his early to mid-twenties with dark-brown hair, tanned skin, jeans hanging off his hips, and a black T-shirt opened the door. He was obviously Jett’s brother, but I didn’t have a clue what his name was. He stepped back, and another guy who looked to be my age entered the house. They stepped into a manly hug and sure enough, I saw an exchange between the two.

Jett’s brother kept his hand closed as he leaned against the door while the other guy shoved whatever he’d received down in his pocket. They chatted a few minutes, making me wish once again that the system included audio.

When the guy left, Jett’s brother closed the door and pocketed something. Between Jett and his brother, my home had turned into the local go-to place for addicts to find their next fix. Knowing my luck, the cops were staking out the house and would ping me for an accessory.

Jett’s brother wandered off camera, toward the kitchen. I furiously flicked through the channels, hoping to find a view in there to see what he was doing.

For a moment, I wondered if he was planting evidence, and he and Jett planned to frame me. Then I laughed. What was I thinking? The guy was a drug dealer. There was no way he would leave any of his stuff at my house. If everyone, including cops, already knew about what Jett’s family did, then I was pretty sure they were untouchable. Yet I didn’t get why that was. In all the news stories on other gangs and drug lords, the police were able to charge them, but Jett’s family somehow always walked free.

By the time I found a camera showing the kitchen, he was walking back into the lounge room with
my
tub of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. I switched back to that camera. He flopped down on the lounge, put his feet on the coffee table, then opened the tub and dug in. Who the hell did he think he was? It was one thing to turn my house into a dealing venue, but it was another to take a girl’s ice cream. He had stepped over the line, especially because it was my last tub, and I couldn’t ask Jett to pick up some more for me because I wasn’t supposed to know I was out of the stuff.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. Jett’s brother put down the ice cream and went to answer it. Two girls were standing on the porch: a blonde dressed in denim shorts that just covered her ass and a tank top, and a redhead wearing a short beach dress that showed far too much boob.

Blondie stepped forward and kissed Jett’s brother on the lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and turned around so that she was inside my house before he dropped her to her feet. My mouth dropped open as he pushed her against the wall and kissed her as if they were about to drop their pants and do it in
my
lounge with another girl present. The red-haired girl stepped inside and looked around the room, then her mouth started moving as she said something to them.

Jett’s brother managed to tear his lips away from Blondie’s mouth to say something. The redhead didn’t look happy with his response. She walked off in a huff and sat on the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jett’s brother gave Blondie one last kiss then pulled her over to sit on the sofa. She played with his hair while he finished off the rest of the ice cream. Every so often, she would plant kisses on his neck or shoulder, but he didn’t respond. He obviously had no emotional attachment to the girl, and I wondered why she would make a fool of herself with someone who clearly didn’t want anything but sex from her. But maybe just having sex wasn’t what she wanted, too.

I really didn’t want to watch any more of what was going on downstairs, but at the same time, I wanted to know what they were getting up to in my house.

Less than ten minutes later, I heard the sound of a motorbike. My heart skipped a beat when I realised why the second girl was there. She hadn’t been checking out my house; she had been looking for Jett.

When Jett came in, Red’s face lit up. She stood and strutted over to him then ran her hands up his back and across his shoulders as she kissed him on the back of his neck. Fire burned inside of me. I was jealous.
I
wanted to be able to run my hands…

I shook my head and switched off the TV. I tried to think of something to do to distract myself, but I was practically bedridden, and the only things within reach were the TV remote and phone. I decided to check Facebook in the hope that some of my friends from Sydney would be online.

Just as I was reaching for my phone, my bedroom door swung open. Jett sauntered over to my bed. “I’ve got a present for you.” He dropped a chemist’s bag on the bed.

I put on a mask of nonchalance, swallowed the lump in my throat, and asked, “From a chemist?”

He shrugged. “Okay, so maybe present wasn’t the right word. But it’s still something you need.”

I opened the bag and peeped inside. “Fresh bandages?” I looked up at him. “Surely you could do better than that.”

Laughing, he snatched the bag from my hands and sat beside me. “Next time I’ll have to remember to get you some jellybeans, too.” He pulled out the gauze and unwrapped it.

Before he had a chance to remove the old one, I quickly peeled it off. Jett leaned forward and ran his thumb below my wound, then gently tugged at my skin. I thought it should’ve hurt even with his sensitive touch, but the only thing I felt was heat rushing to the spot, following the movement of his thumb across my boob. Of course I was imagining it was much more intimate than what it actually was, but I couldn’t help it. I was turning into
that
girl.

“It needs a clean,” Jett said, pulling me out of my girly-girl–induced stupor.

“Huh?”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes melting the defensive layer I was so desperately trying to keep up. God, what was wrong with me? It wasn’t as if Jett had actually shown any interest in me other than taking care of me while I was hurt. Heartbreak was certainly in my future, especially if that girl downstairs was anything to go by.