Page 64 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

“An iced mocha latte.”

“Fancy.” She giggles and pokes her pinky in the air. I have the urge to lash out and suck it into my mouth. I suppress a groan at how ridiculous I’m being.

“Lattes are fancy?” I tilt my head to the side, regarding her. She catches me and smirks. “I didn’t know I was sophisticated.”

She scrunches her nose. “No one said anything about sophistication, and you, sir, certainly are not.”

“I’m not sure if that should offend me. Sophisticated fellas are nice.”

“Well, you’re nice but not sharply dressed.” Her eyes fall to my ratty Chucks but not in a way that is judging me for how ratty they are, just that they aren’t shiny dress shoes. “And the ink on the neck… that would have to go.”

“Are you saying tattooed people can’t be sophisticated?”

She raises her thin arm and threads her fingers through her hair to scratch her scalp. I watch as her hair dangles, dancing from the movement, the dark waves catching in the light and shining a blue-black color. I would say it wasn’t natural, but Kai shares the same trait and I know for a fact he wouldn’t dye his hair.

Adopted siblings that come from abusive parents. To say that I haven’t had that running through my head since she told me would be a lie. I’ve thought about the things she might have endured and it makes my heart hurt, my chest tighten, and spurs an anger so profound I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to banish it from my body. I’m not about to compare levels of abuse to mine because any amount of abuse is disgusting. But if they experienced even a fraction of what I did, it was too much.

Kai has said nothing about it. Before this year, I hadn’t talked to him a lot. We’ve grown closer these past weeks, but it’s not my business to pry, just like he doesn’t pry into my life.

Abuse isn’t something that’s easy to bring up. It can demoralize, tear someone apart inside and out. If he wants to talk to me about it, he will. I’ll be there to listen. Just like I will for Charley. It’s not something I want to connect with her on, but it is something we have in common.

A part of me wants to handle it the way she does. She makes me want to talk about it. I’ve never experienced that before. The urge to let someone know what I’ve been through. What I’ve done. But I’m still not sure I ever will. She’ll see me differently—it’s inevitable.

I’m the kid that killed his parents. Granted, that’s not what the report said, but I’m aware of what happened. My parents witnessed it. My innocent mother. I wish she could’ve told me what she thought of me killing my father before she died.

“I’m saying thugs can’t be sophisticated,” Charley breaks me from my musing.

“On the contrary, thugs are some of the most sophisticated motherfuckers I’ve ever seen. Some of the richest as well.” Her laugh is full-bodied, raw, unkempt. Music to my ears. When she realizes just how loud she is, she ducks her head and forces air through just her nose, clasping a hand over her mouth.

“No one heard you.” I shake with laughter of my own. “At least not in the next town over. This town, however, everyone heard you, Outlaw.”

She grows serious. “Outlaw,” she says as if she is testing it out. “I like it.”

We spend the next couple hours studying, chit-chatting about music, our likes and dislikes, what sort of food we’re keen on, and down a couple of decaf lattes a piece.

After a while, Charley looks up from her textbook at me. Her eyes are drooping and red, her lids heavy and sleepy. She looks fucking adorable. A yawn splits her lips wide, and she inhales every ounce of air in the room. Almost immediately, her hand flies to her mouth.

“I take it you’re tired.” I chuckle and let my head fall back on the couch.

This isn’t the place for what I’m about to do and I’ve held off as long as I can, but I want her in my arms. I hoped that the urge to hold her would go away if we cracked our books open when it hasn’t.

I seek her hand, taking it in mine and tugging it lightly. She gives the contact a quizzical look that lasts for a beat, leaving me to think she is going to deny me.

Finally understanding what I’m asking of her, she bounces her eyes around the room to see if anyone is looking, sets her books to the side in a neat pile just like I would, then crawls over to me. It isn’t awkward, not even slightly, when she cuddles into my side and I drape my arm over her. She brings her knees up, laying them partially over my lap, and rests her head on my chest.

We’re in public and just getting to know each other, but having her in my arms is right. Nothing has ever been right in my life and I’m not sure what we’re doing, but it’s damn good at this moment.

I’m lost in a world of my own, watching as the sun sets outside and running my fingers through the long strands of her hair. They’re like silk sliding over my rough palms. So rough compared to her softness. Everything about me is rough.

She’s right, I’m not sophisticated and I have no idea what I’m doing, but when I smooth a lock of her hair behind her ear and swipe my finger over the delicate skin of her neck, she moans and nuzzles her nose into my shirt. She fell asleep a while ago but she’s still aware of me, of our contact. I want to wake her up, carry her to the Jeep and kiss her everywhere she’ll let me. But for right now, I’ll settle knowing I allowed her peaceful, nightmare-free sleep.

CHAPTER30

I can’t lie,sitting with Foxy, sandwiched between Jensen and Kai, is sort of awkward. She still has mentioned nothing about dating either of them, but it’s obvious something is going on because people who aren’t involved don’t sit so close it looks like they are about to swap skins. The sexual tension between them is incredibly thick.

As disappointed as I am that she hasn’t clued me in, I will say nothing because technically, I’ve kept things with Riggs quiet as well. She is going to make a huge deal out of this and push things.

I’m not ready for that push. I’m still so confused about what is going on myself I’m not sure how I would even explain.

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