Page 29 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

I roll my eyes. Doesn’t make it any better. Who is she if she can fall in love with someone like him? Did she love him, or was it some version of young love? The way he’s been trying to claim her, maybe she didn’t want it at all. Did he force her into it? Did her parents? Some arranged bullshit all these rich pricks like to do. I could see that.

Regardless, what she did to Sam was uncalled for and disgusting. She didn’t have to embarrass her like that.

No, I wouldn’t believe this.

She didn’t strike me as the kind of person to be forced into marrying someone. It was obvious when she had her mind set to something, like making my life a living hell, she followed through.

Something didn’t add up, though. Most bullies learn their targets. Like it makes it any better.

She didn’t even know Sam’s name.Crazy.

How can you do something to someone you don’t even know?

My stomach churns over about Sam and what she went through. I was convinced she would not make it through the hell. She’s doing much better now, but what Jonas did, filming her under the bleachers after he bet his best friend to make out with her and get her naked like he was about to screw her only to turn her down and ridicule her body is disgusting on so many levels.

The fact his money makes him untouchable is the icing on the shit cake. I’m sure he still has the video and is waiting for Sam to go to the cops. He told her if she ever did, he would release the tapes and no one would ever know it was him who did it. It would implicate his best friend, but I can’t see Jonas as being one to care about loyalty. He would get away scot free and one of the worst moments of Sam’s life, her naked body, would be on display for everyone.

I hope that was why Charley broke up with him. It wouldn’t redeem much in my eyes, but it would help. What does help, is now I know she is the one who broke up with him.

Those tears, though. Her reaction in the hallway… No one can fake that. It must have been almost an hour before Jensen finished with hockey and she had just come out of the bathroom. Was she in there crying the entire time? The haunted look in her eyes, the guilt, the shame. She couldn’t even look at me when we passed. To be honest, I felt it. I’m familiar with what guilt and shame look and feel like. I’ve dealt with them my entire life after killing my parents. You can’t hide it, not easily.

It’s possible Charley isn’t who I’m accusing her of being… No, she still made those choices. She didn’t even know Sam’s name. With social media and shit, how do you not learn everyone’s name? She hid behind what she did and it’s pathetic. She clearly lacks decency.

I can’t shake thoughts of her, though. There is something about this girl. Other than she annoys the shit of me on a daily basis and can’t take a hint, she is on my mind. I can’t get rid of her.

Maybe because she’s fucking beautiful?

I’ll give her as much, but it only goes so far. Looks aren’t everything to me. I need substance. What kind of person does it make me that I find her attractive, that I can’t get her out of my mind? I’m not obsessed or anything, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about her from time to time.

What the fuck am I saying? I need substance?Like I would ever date anyone of the rich bitches who attend this school. Charley feels guilty for what happened, but it doesn’t change what she did. Her tears mean nothing. She should be crying.

People make mistakes, Riggsy.I made a huge fucking mistake and never paid for it. Is Charley paying for hers? Is she making sure she pays for it herself?

Fuck that.I’m not going there. My mistake was a genuine mistake. I was being abused. Sure, my mom wasn’t the one hitting me, but shooting her was an honest mistake I will never forgive myself for. I will regret it for the rest of my life and deserve to be behind bars for what I did to her.

What provoked Charley? Sam did nothing other than ask out a rich guy. Charley did what she did to be a bully, which I can’t tolerate. Of course, now I have to write a poem about her—partners in a damn assignment. This year is going to be great fun.

I scrub my hand over my face and sulk off to the kitchen. Maybe if I get started on supper right now, I can get her off my fucking mind.

CHAPTER14

RIGGS

“I’ll see you tomorrow,Simone. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too, Riggs,” Simone says over her shoulder, then turns to give me a flirty smile. When we’re about to close up for the night, I always tell whoever is with me to go ahead and go. Quiet time to myself while I finish the closing duties is nice. I don’t need anyone to walk me to my bike. If someone is out there waiting to rob me, then I won’t try to stop them. They can take whatever I have. I don’t need a buddy system to protect me.

Nevertheless, I walk Simone to her car to make sure she is okay. I may not need help, but nothing is going to happen to her if I can help it. We park in the front spots, two away from the door, so I can still monitor the shop while walking her out.

When I turn back around, a Wrangler is pulling in, the tires screeching as they come to a stop.Great. We close in ten minutes. Waiting on some jerk who comes ten minutes before closing is what I want to do with the rest of my shift.

When Simone is safe and sound in her car, her doors locked, the car running, I begrudgingly make my way back into the store. The door chimes when the person walks in. I don’t see who it is, nor do I care. Anyone who comes in when a place is about to close is a dick, and I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to talk to people in general, but I certainly don’t want to talk to this person. Not even about books. There is only so much cheer I can spread.

The clock on the wall is ticking down. The last thing I have to do is collect the till and set the drawer back to fifty bucks. I can’t do that until they leave, in case they buy anything. So I pull my phone out and start flicking through street bike accounts on Instagram. Playing on your phone is frowned upon, but I have nothing better to do unless they ask for help.

At two minutes to closing, I let out a heaving sigh, hoping they hear me and hurry the fuck up. I’d like to get back home to Gramma. She’ll be sleeping and won’t have a clue that I’m home, but at least she won’t be by herself.

“Excuse me,” a small, feminine voice comes from the back.Great. They need help.

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