The right kind of wrong, p.2
The Right Kind of Wrong, page 2
“Can I have that back, please?” I look up and see her standing at the door.
I smile at her, which makes her look away, and makes me, intrigued. “Sure thing, jailbait.” She stops for a second, cocks her head to the side, and I wink at her. I hand her the phone and before I get another word in, she’s already on her way out. I follow her out onto the dance floor and then out of the club, where she walks toward her friend.
“Do you need a ride?” I ask.
“We don’t need anything from you,” Sarah snaps. What’s her fucking deal? I think to myself.
“Are you always this bitter? You sound like you need to get laid.” She does a double take, cocking her head to the side with her mouth hanging open, and I try my hardest not to laugh. I can read her so easily. She can’t believe I just said that and she wants to be mad… she thinks I’m a jerk, but she likes it. I chuckle and look back at Emily, waiting for her answer.
“We can take a cab,” says Emily.
I look at Emily and she’s wrapping her arms around herself, trying to keep warm. “Nonsense. Where do you live?”
She sighs. “Not far. We live on campus.”
“It’s settled. I’m giving you a ride. It’s freezing and you’ve had a rough night. It’s the least I can do.”
She hesitates but finally agrees.
EMILY
He turns to the valet guy, “Can you bring me Justin’s car? I’ll bring it back when I come to the meeting tonight.”
The valet does as he says as we wait in awkward silence. I feel like I have a million thoughts running through my mind. From the moment I pulled away, something about him felt off. What happened tonight wasn’t like me at all. Sarah obviously can’t stand him and I wonder if she senses that something is off, too. Maybe he thought he’d play prince charming and get his way. Jesus. The fact that what just happened defined him as a prince charming says how messed up I am. I swear, I should just not date anyone for a while…
A fancy black car pulls up and as he walks by me to get in the driver’s seat, he brushes his hand against my lower back and whispers in my ear, “sit in the front.” Again, I find myself doing as he says.
Sarah gets in the back.
“So, what is wrong with your car?” she asks.
“It only seats two people. I assume you didn’t want to be left behind.”
“Oh,” she says.
By his tone, I can tell that maybe he dislikes her just as much as she does him.
“Justin is the owner of the club, right?” I guess and he confirms. I figured he knew people. It seemed like everyone knew him, and he just walked in the office like he owns the place.
As if reading my mind, he says, “I’m part owner.”
“Oh. Wow. How old are you?”
“Old enough,” he winks at me.
“Which translates into young, but he has a trust fund,” Sarah says, and I can’t believe she’s being so rude. I just look back and give her a warning look that maybe she’s taking this one too far.
I look at Owen and he smiles as he reaches for the door, and soon, I know the reason. I see a glass divider go up, as Sarah goes off on him, “What are you doing? Hey!” followed by banging on the glass.
Owen looks at me, and chuckles.
My heart races and at that moment, I’m not sure if that is good or bad. “Why did you do that?” I ask nervously.
“Because she was annoying the fuck out of me.”
“Can’t she hear us?”
He shakes his head.
“Come on,” he says as he gives me that half smile of his. “That was a little funny, wasn’t it?”
I smile back. I can’t help it. “Maybe a little.”
He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. Then his smile disappears. “So, what’s the deal with your boyfriend?” he asks.
My stomach churns. I don’t even want to think about him right now. I just want to clear my head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
He nods and keeps looking ahead as he drives.
“So, is it true about the family money?” I ask.
He slides his hands up on the steering wheel, grabbing my attention. I notice that he grips at the steering wheel tighter. It takes him longer than necessary to answer my question and his tone is harsh. “I don’t talk about my family, sweetheart.” I don’t know whether to be thankful or concerned that he dropped the jailbait nickname. I instantly look away. “Sorry I asked,” I say under my breath.
OWEN
She tenses when I refuse to talk about my family. I can’t even fathom explaining the Crawford family… How would that go? Daddy dearest is an abusive bastard who used to play with black magic to get what he wanted, until he abused his powers and lost that privilege, or should I say, curse. Him losing that power was a freaking Godsend. Oh, and he’s now in a wheelchair because of a car accident that killed mom, and I’m pretty sure he caused that accident on purpose…
Nothing can put me in a bad mood faster than talking about my father. I take a deep breath and try to get my mind off him. I glance at Emily while I drive and look down at her chest. Her top is low cut, just enough to allow me to notice how fast her chest rises and falls; I make her nervous, which intrigues me even more. Everything about her posture says she’d rather be anywhere but here. I’ll never get women like her. She flat out saw him cheating on her; yet, I’m willing to bet she’ll go back to him without a second thought. And I know she feels bad about that kiss; she doesn’t see it as payback. She sees it as her not being loyal to that jackass.
She can feel my eyes on her and she peeks at me right before I look back at the road. “What do you go to school for?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
“Psychology,” she says nervously.
I chuckle. “Are you analyzing me right now?”
She shakes her head, still nervous. “Why? Do you have something to hide?” she asks.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Everyone does, sweetheart. Life would be boring without secrets.”
I glance at her and she looks serious. I get the impression she actually liked when I called her jailbait instead of sweetheart. She looks like she’s thinking about it for a minute. “I suppose so,” she finally says.
Her phone rings and I glance at the screen.
After a few rings, I say, “You can answer it, you know?”
“No. That’s okay.”
“Is that your boyfriend?” I ask even though I already know the answer.
She ignores the question. “That building,” she points, but I already knew where we were going when she gave me the name of the building. I’ve been to the campus a lot over the past few years.
I park the car. Her friend quickly gets out, and she looks pissed. I lock the door before Emily can get out, then I look at her.
“What are you doing?” she asks nervously.
“Talking.” I say. “Are you going back to your boyfriend?”
“That’s none of your business. And I need to go.”
I unlock the door. “I’ll see you around, Emily.”
I wait until they are safely in the building before I drive off.
CHAPTER THREE
By the time I get back to the club, it’s already closed. The lights are dimed, the music is off, and as always, I welcome the silence. I walk past the bar and the dance floor, and go to my usual table toward the back. Minutes later, Shayne comes to the table and sits on my lap.
“Hey, hon. I heard you caused quite a scene earlier.”
I wink at her. “You know me… always causing trouble somewhere.”
She has her long red hair up in a messy bun. I reach up and free her hair, watching it fall over her bare shoulders. I have to give it to Justin, having these low-cut tank tops as part of the bartender uniforms was one of his best ideas yet. Shayne smiles; she knows what that look does to me. She leans in and kisses me before getting up. “Do you need a drink?” she asks.
“You know it.”
I watch her walk away and once she gets to the bar, she looks back at me. She makes our drinks, then comes back and sits next to me, putting her long legs, with her high heel boots, over my lap.
“So, am I right to assume that the woman involved will be your new project?” she laughs. She knows me well. Not long ago, she was my special project. I like to think that helping women like her, like them, makes up for all the evil that I have done in the past and will likely continue to do in the future.
“Yes. That guy pissed me off. He needs someone to put him in his place and it will be HER.”
Shayne laughs. “You have way too much time on your hands, Crawford.”
“Do you want to do something about that?” I give her a half smile as I wink at her.
She shakes her head. “Don’t try to play me, Crawford. I know better.”
And she does. I met Shayne shortly after the whole fiasco with dad ending up in the wheelchair. At the time, he hired her as a caretaker, but let’s just say the asshole wanted her to do a different kind of caretaking.
I found her going off on him and I actually applauded when she was done. Then I helped her get the job here. We hook up from time to time, but she knows I’m not a relationship kind of guy… unless that relationship lasts twenty-four hours or less.
She sighs. “I better finish up cleaning the bar,” she says and I watch her walk away again.
I send Justin a text. ‘Meeting time. Get me everything you found on the jackass from earlier.’
Justin and I go way back.
Justin, Ed, and Tucker, were already part of the group when I joined. They were recruited by my dad and Jones. Jones used to be the man in charge before he passed some of his responsibilities on to me. I was only sixteen when I crawled my way into using black magic. At some point, I tried to get away from it all, but you can’t go back and live a normal life when you go as deep in it as I have. Every action, every single favor, has a price.
Justin finally shows up and throws a large envelope on the table before he sits down and calls Shayne’s attention to get him a drink.
She comes over with a glass of vodka, puts it down on the table without making any eye contact with him, and leaves. For whatever reason, she’s terrified of Justin. I asked once and she said he reminds her too much of a douchebag she used to date. In her defense, Justin has been the douchebag to at least a dozen women this year alone.
I open the envelope and look through the guy’s information: school file, credit report, criminal records, and yes, he has one. He was a lacrosse player who had a scholarship, until he got kicked off the team after getting his second DUI. His mom raised him alone. His dad was never in the picture. I find myself wishing that were my case… He has tons of credit card debt with recent charges from hotels and strip clubs. This will be an easy one.
I put the papers back in the envelope and look at the time. Tonight is the night when the new guys are chosen. We choose two new members from the college each year and usually, one of them fucks up and gets kicked out. We build their confidence, so we can use them later, and that is the beauty of it all… confidence makes them believe they are in control, when they are really just little puppets in our hands. We choose who we do because they are ambitious little fuckers, and cocky as hell. They think they know it all, which makes them easier to manipulate.
Ed and Tucker come in, late as usual. Tucker grabs a chair, sits by me, and gives Ed a look like they are up to something. You’d think they are hormonal teenagers instead of thirty-something-year-old men.
“I hear you have a new project,” Tucker says. He thinks my side projects are hilarious.
“Aren’t you getting a little old to deal with drama from college chicks?” asks Ed.
I glare at him. “I’m thirty-two. Two years younger than your old ass.”
“I’m just saying… it gets old after a while. They think you care and that you just saved them from the world’s most evil guy, and then, they end up in your bed, and—”
“And the problem is?” I ask.
“That part is not the problem. The problem is that they get attached and then they end up showing up everywhere.”
I ignore that last part. “Moving on…” I say and Justin slides the folders across the table and we look through promising candidates for this year. Cameron, a freshman on a swimming scholarship and going for pre-law, is chosen for the first slot. There are a few other promising candidates, but I see a familiar face in one of the files, and I grin. How did that fool even end up on the list?
“This guy,” I say as I throw the open folder down on the table. “Craig.”
Tucker laughs. “Sorry, man. That wasn’t even supposed to be in there. We followed him around over the past few days and the guy is a joke. All he does is sleep around and go to frat parties. No family with connections. I don’t even know how he was recommended or who recommended him.”
“He can be managed,” says Ed.
“He has no purpose,” Tucker growls back at him.
I look at Justin and he’s cracking up, because he knows exactly where this is going. Justin nods. “I’m always up for free entertainment,” he says.
I knew he would agree.
“Craig is in,” I say as I grin.
This is going to be fun.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time we are done with the meeting, Shayne has cleaned up the place and she’s now restocking the bar for tomorrow night. I go up to the bar and sit down while she finishes up. She pours me a drink while I wait to give her a ride home. I usually do.
“So, what is new, Crawford? You seem happy. Well, you seem like you’re up to no good, which always puts that smirk on your face.”
I shake my head and smile down at my drink. “Just… things falling into place. That is all. It’s been a while since--”
“Since you had someone to rescue.” She finishes my sentence and rolls her eyes. I can tell by her body language that she isn’t happy about this. She looks up at me and sees that I’m quietly watching her. In a lame attempt to change topics, she asks, “So, how is your brother?”
“Good. Living the good ol’ life with his wife and kids. He has a new book coming soon.”
“Oh wow. He writes fast.”
I chuckle and grab my glass. “Well, dad gave him plenty of material to write about while we were growing up.”
She looks at me with those sad eyes. She’s seen the scars. She knows the truth. “Don’t look at me like that,” I warn her. “You know that my childhood didn’t impact me at all.”
“Liar,” she says as she pours me another drink.
I grin. “Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”
She bursts into laughter. “No one takes advantage of you, Crawford. I’m pretty sure that things happen the other way around.”
I chuckle and finish the drink. “Well, now I can’t drive. I have no choice but let you drive me home and you’ll have to stay there until I sober up.”
She laughs. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” she warns. We both know that isn’t true, but I play her little game.
I lock up the place as she goes to get my car from the garage nearby.
We get to the house and see that the lights are on.
“Fuck. He’s back early,” I blurt out.
She starts the car again. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Rescuing you for a change,” she laughs and speeds out of there.
“Be careful with Tara,” I warn her.
“Tara?” she asks.
“Yes… my car.”
“I didn’t know it had a name.” She rolls her eyes at me, but she does slow down.
I rest my head back and end up falling asleep. I don’t wake up until I feel the car stop in her apartment’s parking garage.
“Come on,” she says. I make my way out of the car and to the elevator. As soon as the doors close, I pin her against the back of the elevator and kiss her. She doesn’t pull away and she kisses me back. We both knew this was going to happen. It always does.
When the elevator door opens, we start making our way to her apartment and she’s already ripping my shirt off. She manages to unlock and open the door while we are still kissing. We step inside and hear the sound of someone’s throat clearing and stop kissing long enough to look over and see that her roommate is watching TV with three friends she has over.
“Apologies, ladies,” I say. “We’ll be out of your way shortly,” I scoop her up and take her to the bedroom. We could hear the women giggling like high school girls as we walked away. We end up tripping over the bed and Shayne falls on top of me.
After a few hours and a few noise complaints, we just roll over for a break. Honestly, I could pass out right here and now.
SHAYNE
Yep. I did it again. I keep telling myself over and over that I’m not going to sleep with him anymore and yet, here I am, and of no fault of his. I really need to get it together and stay away from him.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he says.
I look over and he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
“What thing?” I ask.
“Thinking.”
I laugh. “Well, people tend to do that from time to time.”
He turns his head to the side, facing me. “We’re still good, right? Because the moment you feel like you need more—”
I cut him off. “I know. We’re good,” I lie, and I think he might know that I’m lying, but he doesn’t say it either way. I don’t want him to feel bad about this. One night when he was a little drunker than usual, he confessed that he feels like a shitty person for telling me that I need to back off if I feel like I need more, but that he can’t chance being with anyone. He said he wouldn’t want to curse anyone with having a future with him, and that his dad is his burden to carry and he won’t put anyone through it with him. That was the night I fell for him. With time, I began to hate his dad. I’ve read his brother’s book and the amount of pain they went through is unimaginable. He can say it is fiction all he wants, but every time he lets a small piece of his past slip through, my suspicious are confirmed.
