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I want him, no point denying it. It's a new kind of craving that pisses me off, but it's also too strong to ignore. I felt that dark hole in him yesterday, and it's like staring into an abyss. It's got its own gravity, pulling everything in, especially me.
My gut is screaming at me not to jump into that black hole. I've tried to see into it, but it’s a no-go. It's like trying to figure out the end of a maze in pitch darkness. Gollum's twisted face pops up in my mind, a warning about where obsession can lead. But I've got Summer to think about. She's my reason to stay out of the chaos.
I sniffle a sigh, not even sure what emotion it carries. The world outside is speeding by, just like my racing thoughts. And there's Jaden, too freaking complicated for his own good. But he saved me. He's offering me revenge and a way out. And maybe even a job, something more stable than my hit-or-miss gigs so far. The idea of taking control of my life? That’s tempting enough to make this insane leap feel almost reasonable.
So here we are, driving into the unknown. I'm on the edge, teetering, thinking about jumping into this crazy new life. It's a risk, but isn't that what living is all about?
Tightening my grip on the seat, I shake off the wild thought—Jaden is dangerous, period. But damn, as the Ferrari's engine roars, a part of me wants to roar along with it. It's not just that I'm attracted to him; it's like he's this magnet I can't pull away from. And hell, I know it's a risky game.
I should be focusing on Summer, planning a life miles away from creeps like Viper. But my mind keeps tripping over Jaden. He speeds up my pulse and stirs up feelings I've never had to deal with. He might be my Neo—or my biggest mistake. It's messed up, but part of me is screaming, "Take the risk!"
Pulling myself together, I force my thoughts away from Jaden's gravitational pull. The guy's got layers, dark ones, and that's a no-go zone for now. I let out a deep breath, reminding myself I've got shit to do: Summer, a place to call home, safety. But keeping that focus? It's like trying to stand still in a windstorm.
As we zoom through the open countryside, I make a promise to myself: no more getting sidetracked by my stupid crush on Jaden. I've got to be the rock here, because my emotions are a total shit show.
"Tell me more about your mother?" Jaden suddenly blurts, snapping me out of my mental spiral. The shift from his brooding silence is so jarring, it's like a jump scare in a horror flick.
"My mom? Seriously?" I blink, thrown for a loop. "Wow, way to break character from your 'silent but deadly' act."
I catch his gaze and feel it—the weight, the depth, and yeah, the danger. But for a split second, I see something else, like maybe I'm not the only one wrestling with what the hell is going on between us.
"What do you want to know?" My voice is edged, a balance of caution and defiance. My eyes narrow, taking in Jaden as I gauge his next move. With him, questions are seldom just questions. They’re probes, disguised hand grenades set to reveal truths. Yeah, he's got that physician’s intrigue, sure, but something more hovers behind that poised facade. Could he be after something else, some deeper insight cloaked behind the guise of medical curiosity?
"When did your mother's schizophrenia first manifest? How was she diagnosed?" Ah, there's the doc. He's not treating me like I'm clueless, and that's a point in his favor.
I feel a gnawing tension, a sharp itch for a joint to calm the nerves. But I can't afford that comfort, not with hospital staff on the horizon. My mom's first break with reality? That’s one tale that usually stays locked up tight. People either don’t buy it, or they look at me like I'm a tragedy in motion. But Jaden, he's radiating something else—genuine curiosity masked as casual interest.
"I was eleven," I begin, my words careful but direct, "when she went off the deep end. She'd yell at me to pick up a phone that never rang. Arguing was pointless, so I'd pretend to answer the goddamn thing. She also accused me of hiding drugs, ripped through my clothes, and hit me while blaming me for her screwed-up life. Oh, and let’s not forget the screaming matches with E.S., accusing him of cheating."
I press on, recounting the grim reality but sidestepping the frightened kid I was—am. That kid had to grow the hell up, fast. Like when I walked in to find Mom pointing a shotgun at E.S., his eyes pleading. "What was I supposed to do? I was just a kid, barely eleven."
"Scratch my arm." Jaden's voice is low, his forearm resting between us. I hardly think about it; I just start scratching. A trickle of warmth seeps through me, like an unspoken 'go ahead.' It's strange; I sense no judgment, only an earnest want to understand. And that, that’s disarming as hell.
"So, what'd you do?"
"They were between me and the damn phone. It's not like we had a cell; we were broke as hell." I'm dumping way too much, but once the faucet's open, good luck turning it off.
"Summer's there, right? Just out of Mom's line of sight. She looked terrified, so there was no question—I had to shield her. And E.S., he was like a god to me back then. My heart's slamming against my ribcage, but screw it—I run up that steep-ass hill to the payphone and dial 911. And that's how I got tagged as the family rat." Can't keep the bile out of my voice, even if I tried.
"Rats are smart, you know. Crafty. But you? You're more of a dragon," Jaden says.
I shoot him a 'what-the-hell' look, my fingers still scratching his arm. "Explain."
“Easy.” His voice wraps around me like good whiskey—smooth, burning, leaving a trace long after it's gone. “Don’t scratch a hole in me. What's next?"
"Why the dragon?" I'm braced for an insult, always am.
"Because you're loyal, you're a question mark in human form, and you're brave as hell."
And just like that, there's this warm buzz that fills me up. No one ever says good shit like that to me. Jaden catches my eye, then quickly looks back at the road. "Don't read into it. I'm just saying you'd go to the ends of the earth for your sister."
I narrow my eyes at him, letting him know that I call bullshit. But that weird emotional vibe between us? It goes cold really quick. Still, I felt it. So I pocket that fleeting warmth. 'Cause let's be honest, warm and fuzzy moments are not on the menu with this guy. But I felt it, I know I did. And that's something.
"God forbid." Yanking my hand back from his arm, I cross my arms, sealing myself off like a bar's last call—no more service, no more niceties. His lifted eyebrow and those damned compelling eyes telegraph his thoughts: he thinks I'm being a brat. It only amps up my urge to bite back.
"What happened next?" He tones down his voice. It's one of those split-second moments when I just know—this is as close to 'sorry' as he'll get. The man's arm is back on the console, twitching in this silent demand for contact. His version of an olive branch? What a selfish prick.
"Yeah, I'm selfish and damn good at it. So spill, little dragon." His words hit me like a rogue wave, unexpected and disarming. The warmth that had started to crystallize in my veins melts, seeping into my core. I can't help it; the words tumble out.
