Page 75 of Jerk
His car moves with me. A shiny silver vintage Mercedes as old as his father’s money. “Let me fix this.”
“You can’t fix this.” I’d be lying if his presence by my side on this dark road didn’t bring some sort of twisted comfort. But I won’t let him know that.
“I will. Get in.”
“I’m so sick of you controlling me.” My arms tighten across my chest. “This isyourmess. Fix it without me.”
“Your hands aren’t clean either, Hannah. Or did you miss Krystal’s slideshow?”
That makes me stop in my path. “Fuck you. And her. And your twisted fucking family.” Another car slows, and when I glance at the driver, it’s a guy from the football team. I give him my meanest look, my eyes in slits before he drives away. When my eyes shift to Rye, he smirks, and I want to claw his face out. “Why don’t you all leave me alone?”
“Okay, I messed up.” His car comes to a stop beside me. “Let me make it up to you.” Another car whizzes by as he reaches over to open that iconic Gullwing door. Ryung keeps it as classy as Bond, even when he’s being an absolute prick. “Get in. Please.”
“Why the hell should I do that?” It’s hard to ignore him when I can smell him from here, that sweet musk pouring from his car. Warmth comes with it. “My parents think I’m useless. So do my friends. So please tell me how you plan on fixing this?”
“I have a plan.” His eyes soften, like when our bodies press together or when he’s making me climax to the heavens.
“Does your plan include your sister in jail where she belongs?”
His head falls against the headrest. “I’ll start by making sure no one sees you walking home at night alone in The Hill.” On cue, another car speeds by, slowing when they see us before continuing. “I need you—” A wave of flutters fills my chest, my eyes locking on his as he lets out a hard exhale. “To get in the car.”
“Of course you do.” My shoulders drop, that word still reverberating through my head.Need.
“Don’t do it for me,” he says, pointing his jaw towards a pink box on the dash. “Do it for the eclairs.”
The tension in my jaw slacks. “Chez Antoine?”
“Is there anything better?”
“You’re weaponizing pastries now?”
“I’m desperate.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let him hit that spot. That soft spot in my gut that drives my stomach into a spin cycle. A cold gust of wind rips through me, the chill settling on my warm skin.
“Drive me home,” I say, moving towards the car. “And I’m taking the whole box.”
He lets out a soft chuckle that helps melt the tension in my chest as I move towards the car. “Deal.”
Slipping inside, warmth engulfs me, so does his scent. Tobacco, leather and regret. I wouldn’t be honest if I said I didn’t like being in the passenger seat of this car. All I need is a pashmina and a killer dress to be one hell of a Bond girl. But I’m not with Agent 007. I’m with a soul-sucking vampire instead. Reaching for the box with one hand, I close the door with the other.
Then he speeds off.
The meter on the speedometer rises by the second, the engine roaring.
“Don’t you think you caused enough damage?” My voice shakes as he takes a sharp turn, my grip pushing into the pastry box.
“You think I wanted this?” His hands grip tight to the wheel, trees and cars whizzing by us as he weaves in and out of traffic. “You think I wanted them to see you like that?”
“You showed them the video!Youdid!” My shoulder slams against the door before a pain as sharp as his turn ripplesthrough me. “Rye, slow down!” He drives like the rest of the Crowns—like he has a death wish. Branches slap against the glass, my heart pounding harder with each swerve.
“I was saving you, Hannah.” His voice is a taught, low growl. "Was that not enough for you, Princess? Should I have kept you there?"
Glancing at him, his eyes are as dark as our surroundings before the trees clear and a sprinkling of lights from the town below appears. We’re above The Valley, which means…
“Rye! Stop the car!” We’re heading towards the edge, my hands reaching for his arm. “Please!”
He doesn’t stop, my eyes widening.
