The Fear That Divides Us (The Devil's Dust #3)(15)

“Shit!” I yell, licking my fingertips to get every drop.

I slide my finger across the screen bringing my phone to life, cursing it at the same time. There’s a message from Bobby.

Bobby: Naked?

I should tell him I am wearing tan granny panties, and a nightgown my grandmother gave me. See if that gets him all hot and bothered. But knowing Bobby, it probably would turn him on.

Me: Hardly.

Bobby: I can help with that!

Me: Going to bed.

Bobby: Think of me, Hummingbird.

I sigh. I hate it when he calls me that. He says I hum a lot, reminding him of a hummingbird.

I toss my phone on the floor, and take another big gulp of wine, letting it slide down my throat, praying it helps numb this feeling of grief in my soul. I ran to the club a few years back, my last resort in saving my daughter and me from Travis, my deceased husband. I never thought I would trade a life of danger for the temptation of another hell.

I roll over and see my closet lit up, my eyes catching my forbidden shoebox at the top.

“Don’t do it, Jessica,” I whisper to myself. I know nothing in that box will help with what I’m feeling. The box that keeps little snippets from my past. I don’t know why I keep it. Actually, I do. It reminds me why I’m doing all of this. Living carefully and loveless. I’m caged by fear and tormented by recollection, making my life pretty monotonous.

I take another big gulp, my head lightening from the wine’s effect as I stand from the bed, and make my way to the closet. My fingers brush against the brown box. As a tear slowly escapes my tired eyes, the scars across my back blaze from terrifying memories.

“Your life as you know it will be mine. It’s up to you how long that life is to be endured and how. You will learn your role as my wife, and your happiness will depend on that,” Travis whispered, his voice calm and solemn against my ear. My body raised in fear when I heard the slight noise of something trailing along the floor as he paced behind me.

Wine splashes my feet, along with a loud crack, waking me from my dreadful memory. I look down and notice the wine bottle has slipped from my grip, landing next to my feet. I remember that night more than most. I went out with my girlfriend, Heather, and we got a little crazy and drank too much. A police officer drove us home so we didn’t have to drive. Travis was furious when the officer dropped me off. As soon as the door closed behind us, he grabbed me by my hair, and pulled me down to the basement.

Bobby

I am blowing on my cup of coffee when Jessica walks into the clubhouse. Her pink scrubs snug against her body and her blonde hair pulled up into a tight hair tie immediately draws my attention. Her vivid blue eyes spot me on my stool and she smiles. Her smile is contagious, holding me hostage for a moment before I manage a smile in return. Her face is round in the sexiest way. The hint of neutral red on her defined cheeks speak of the summers she stayed outside as a kid, staining her cheeks with a permanent glow. I swear every time I see her, my chest cramps and my dick swells painfully.

“I’m here to dress Tom’s leg,” she explains, holding up her black bag. She has been here every day for the last few days since the wreck happened. I’ve been here every time, and I’ve tried every day to get her to stay afterwards, go for coffee, anything. My efforts have been turned down, as usual. But when I do finally break her wall, she’s worth every painful stab to the chest caused from the countless rejections. I know she’s afraid, terrified of giving her heart to someone she trusts only to have it violently ripped from her chest. She needs to be pushed past her threshold of security to know I’d never hurt her. However, I’m terrified too. I fear pushing her to the breaking point and her never returning back to me. So I tell her what she wants to hear… that we’re just friends and nothing else. No complications.

“I’ll go get him,” I reply, getting up from my stool, giving her a wink.

I walk down the hall and open the door to Tom’s room without knocking. Tom is passed out, hanging halfway off the bed, naked. I lift my boot and kick the side of the bed.

“Get up. Jessica is here to replace your bandage.”

He groans and rolls over, his bright-colored tattoos running up his arm catching my eye. I swear he gets the color in those touched up every few months.

“I’m up,” he groans, running his hand through his long, tangled hair.

I make my way back to the bar finding Jessica drinking my coffee. Her slightly pink lips curve over the rim of the cup, taking a small sip.

“Help yourself,” I clip.

“I did, and it tastes like crap.” She twists her face in disgust.

“Made it myself,” I reply proudly.

“I figured,” she says, laughing, before turning and grinning.

“Club is having a party tonight. You should stop by,” I suggest, brushing my finger against her cheek.

She blushes and her back stiffens from my touch.

“Can’t,” she answers flatly. Her rejection feels like a horse kicked me in the f*cking chest.

“Can’t or won’t?” I ask. She looks at me, setting the coffee cup down.

“Can’t,” she replies softly, with a weak smile.

I smirk and nod. Guess I’ll call Diamond from Wicked Birds. Looks like I ain’t breaking Jessica’s resistance this time. Before me and the boys left the club the other day, Diamond grabbed me by the arm and wrote her number on my palm with a magic marker. She kissed me on the cheek before walking away, swaying that fine ass of hers.