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Losers: Part I: Chapter 27

Vincent

Satin Novelties made me feel like a kid in a candy store. Sure, everything was online now and I could easily order whatever items I wanted to be delivered, but there was something so enjoyable about wandering around the physical shelves, stumbling upon an unexpected item and letting your imagination run wild. Especially when I had the source of so much inspiration right in front of me; her hand in mine.
I led Jess inside, the bell on the door jingling as we entered. Almost instantly, a hand shot up from the front of the store, near the register.
“Welcome in!” a cheerful voice called. “My name is Julia. Let me know if you need any help!”
“Wow, that’s a lot of enthusiasm,” Jess said softly, and I smiled to myself as we wound between the shelves of lube and erotic novels toward the front counter. A young woman with long bright red hair was sitting behind the register on a stool, a wide smile spreading across her face when we walked into view.
“Who let this clown in here?” she said. She hopped off her stool, coming to rest her elbows on the counter. “Oooh, but you brought a cutie along with you! Did he kidnap you? Blink twice if you need help.”
“I mean, it wasn’t exactly a kidnapping,” Jess said, glancing over at me mischievously as she played along. “I got in the car willingly.”
“Well, considering this weirdo hasn’t tied you up yet, you’re in a better spot than most victims that end up in his deathtrap of a car.” She held out her hand, and Jess took it with a smile. “I’m Julia, by the way. You must be Jessica. Lucas mentioned you’d be coming by.”
“My car is not a death trap,” I said. “Just because my driving scares you doesn’t make it deadly.”
“Mm, nope, I think it’s pretty deadly.” She pursed her lips, waving me away. “Go shop or something, would you? Give me and Jess a chance to get to know each other.”
I innocently held up my hands as I backed away. If there was one thing Julia couldn’t resist, it was a hot girl. She kept talking as I roamed among the shelves, explaining how we all knew each other. She and Lucas used to work together when this place was still a tire shop; she was the only coworker of his that he hadn’t completely hated. She’d been a student at Wickeston High, but a grade above the rest of us, although she ran in some of the same circles. We ended up at a lot of the same parties as a result, including the club I bartend for.
“I remember you from the cheerleading team!” Julia exclaimed, practically squealing in her excitement. “I always saw you at the football games. Girl, you were amazing. Like holy shit, I could never be that flexible.”
I got a quick glimpse of Jess’s face as I passed by and was pleased to see her smiling. Most of our friends weren’t people that Jess was familiar with, but they were people she could trust.
She needed people like that. People who weren’t going to tear her down behind her back, who didn’t make adhering to a strict mold one of the caveats of friendship. As much as it pissed me off, finding Jess abandoned in our garage by her so-called friends had made me sad more than anything. She clung to those people because they were familiar, not because they actually did anything for her life.
I used to try to make everyone I met into a friend, regardless of who they were or how they’d treated me. I’d convinced myself that enough kindness could turn anything around, but not everyone was — or deserved to be — a friend. Learning that lesson hadn’t been easy, but painfully necessary.
I smirked as I picked up a pair of nipple clamps and tucked them under my arm. Jason didn’t know exactly how Lucas was planning to thank him, and I was glad Julia was keeping Jess busy. I planned to have her arrive at our house with a whole box of goodies, like a doll that came with accessories. It tickled my humor to imagine not only Jason being surprised by Jess, but Jess being surprised by what exactly she was in for.
Jason had certain kinks he didn’t often get to indulge and I was eager to give him the opportunity. But I grabbed a few items for myself too; I wasn’t going to miss the chance to play when I finally had Jess all to myself.
“I think that’s everything,” I said, setting my basket down on the counter for Julia to ring up. I slid myself in front of it before Jess could get much of a look. “No peeking now. That would ruin the surprise.”
Jess scowled at me, screwing up her mouth to protest, but Julia howled excitedly, “Ooh, yes, girl, keep it a surprise!” She leaned around me, lifting her eyebrows in a cartoonishly pervy way. “Trust me, you’re going to have fun.”
“Hm, we’ll see about that,” Jess said, although the skepticism in her tone softened jokingly. Julia rang us up and was handing my card back when the jingle of the doorbell caught her attention.
“Sorry, guys. Duty calls.” She lifted her hand and gave the same enthusiastic greeting to the overwhelmed-looking couple who’d walked in, then lowered her voice and said, “Ooh, I think I’ve got some first-timers. They’ll either freak out and bail or buy the whole shop. Time to work some magic! I’ll see you around!”

Jess’s stomach was rumbling as we left the shop, although she tried to deny it. But there was a fast-food place right across the street, and the smell of grilled onions and greasy burgers drew me. We took a table outside to eat, the striped umbrella overhead shielding us from the sun.
Jess inhaled her burger before I’d eaten even half of mine.
“I had a hard workout this morning,” she said, when she noticed me eyeing her empty tray. “And I had a small breakfast —”
“Chill, girl.” I chuckled as I poked a handful of fries at her. “Who the hell taught you that you need to justify what you eat?”
She stared at me for a moment before she stammered out, “Oh, uh, my mom, I guess. She’s always been picky about food.”
“That’s not being picky, it’s being invasive. It’s no one’s damn business what you eat, as long as you’re eating.” She smiled, reaching across the table and grabbing some of my fries. “There you go. Steal as much as you want.”
Her smile widened and she pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the red plastic seat. There was such a difference between the way she smiled in public — at parties, with her friends, her peers — than she did here, with me. This smile was far more open. It was honest rather than a carefully formulated expression. I liked that. I wanted to see it more.
I wanted to see every expression she had, as raw as I could get it.
I had a view of the parking lot from my seat, so I saw the old red Chevy as soon as it pulled in. It was loud, puttering as if it had an exhaust leak, and my eyes followed it, although I didn’t think much of it. It parked crooked and the engine cut off, but I was already looking at Jess again when the driver stepped out.
I didn’t see him clearly until he was passing by our table. Then I glanced up, and nearly fucking choked on a mouthful of burger.
“Woah, are you okay?” Jess reached across the table for me as I coughed, managing to choke the food down despite my sputtering. I paused as I caught my breath. Jess’s eyes were wide as she looked at me. But then her gaze flickered up, over my shoulder, and she gave an awkward smile as she said to someone, “He’s okay.”
Shit. Fucking shit.
I glanced back in time to make brief eye contact with the man who’d stepped out of the truck. He was old, with a long lean frame and gray stubble on his cheeks. His hair was greasy and grown out to his shoulders, but beyond his haggard appearance was a stunning familiarity that made the food in my stomach turn sour.
His mouth twitched in a crooked smile before he turned away and kept walking. He recognized me; I’d seen it in his eyes.
I hurriedly gathered what remained of my food, setting my tray on top of Jess’s empty one. “Come on. We need to go.”
Jess blinked at me in surprise but followed me as I threw our trash away. I grasped her hand before we ran back across the street, looking over my shoulder with paranoia all the while.
He wasn’t supposed to be back. Fuck, he wasn’t even supposed to be alive.
“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jess said the moment we were both back in the car. I felt better with the AC blasting on us and all the doors closed, the tinted glass hiding us from the world.
Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe it wasn’t him.
But that truck…it was the same one he’d driven for so damn long. And the way he smiled, the sharp angles of his face, his dark eyes…so much like his son.
“You saw that old man?” I said, shoving my wallet in the center console. She nodded. “That was Manson’s dad. Reagan Reed.”
Her eyes widened as she turned in her seat, looking back across the street. “Shit. I take it he hasn’t been in town for a while?”
“Not since the funeral,” I said, pulling out of the lot and back onto the road. “We thought he was dead. Hoped he was dead, I guess. Don’t mention this around Manson, okay? I’ll tell him, but don’t bring it up.”
“I won’t.” Her eyes were on me as I drove, studying me. Clever girl. She’d figure me out if she kept trying. “He scares you too, doesn’t he?”
I sighed, my fingers flexing on the wheel. She’d never gotten the whole story — she’d heard some of the surface-level things Reagan was capable of, enough to know what kind of man he was, but nothing more. It wasn’t my story to tell, and besides, I didn’t want to scare her.
Manson had rarely brought anyone over to his parents’ place in high school, but I’d gone over twice myself. Both times I’d been eager to leave. Reagan’s presence in the house was like a poison in the air. I’d watched his wife and son cringe around him; heads down, eyes lowered, voices kept evenly cautious.
It was nothing like how it was in my own home. My sisters and I had never been afraid of our parents. We respected them, certainly. As the oldest, I’d always been expected to be the one to set an example, to look after my little sisters and help support the family. But I was happy to do those things out of love, not fear.
I’d be lost without my old man, and my mom was one of the kindest, wisest people I knew. They’d taken in my boys when no one else would, fed them, loved them. They’d accepted Jason under their roof without a second of hesitation when his own family kicked him out. If Manson and Lucas hadn’t been so damn ashamed of accepting help, my parents would have brought them into the house too.
“Reagan freaks me the fuck out,” I answered honestly, but smiled at the end to try to reassure her. “But don’t worry about it. He’ll probably bail out of town again in a few days; he never sticks around very long.”
She settled back in her seat, but a crease of concern remained on her forehead, pinching her eyebrows together. Reagan hadn’t been back in Wickeston since his estranged wife died. He didn’t attend the funeral, but he sure as hell was pissed about the will. Apparently, Manson’s mom had been well-off when she married Reagan, including having inherited the house from her own parents. But years of an abusive marriage and alcohol addiction sapped everything they had — almost everything.
Every penny she had left, she gave to Manson. It wasn’t a fortune, but between that inheritance and the house, it had completely changed the tides of our lives. It had given us all a place to live, a haven where we could be together. It allowed us to dream of bigger and better things.
I’d be damned if Reagan tried to ruin that now.
But I didn’t want to dwell on that old man or the trouble he could cause. It was a beautiful day and I had an even more beautiful woman sitting in my passenger seat, probably wondering if I was going to take her home or snatch her away for my own nefarious plans.
It was definitely the latter.
Instead of taking Route 15 all the way back to her house, I took a turn and wound through narrow backroads, keeping my eyes out for any lurking cops. I kept driving until the asphalt ended. The road ahead of me went winding through farmland, fields of corn on one side and overgrown trees on the other.
Jess glanced over at me. “Why did you stop?”
I tightened my grip on the shifter. I knew this road like the back of my hand. I probably could have driven it with my eyes closed. But she didn’t know that. “Just giving you a chance to prepare yourself,” I said.
Her eyes widened, darting between me and the road ahead. “Wait, prepare myself for what —”
I slammed into gear and punched on the gas pedal. She sucked in a breath as the car surged forward, backfires popping off like gunshots as my tires caught traction and dug into the earth. We launched over the first bump in the road, dust kicking up behind us in a cloud.
She was grateful for that harness now — she was clinging to it for dear life.


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