Jake the Panty-Ripper (Book 1, the Phantoms MC Series)

four: in which she can't make her mind up

"Hold your tongue and hear me out" –Zedd & Hayley Williams, Stay the Night

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I felt considerably better when I got outside. Cold air assailed me, awakened my lethargic limbs and settled my stomach. Until, of course, I doubled over and threw up again. At some point, my braid had come undone, so there was the added inconvenience of trying to ensure that no vomit got into my hair.

Just perfect.

Slightly dizzy, I straightened up, combing my hands in my hair, trying to get it to fall over my back. Noise in the parking lot made my headache worse. I needed to curl up somewhere warm and dark and pretend the last three hours hadn't happened.

I couldn't do that with Jake beside me, though.

"I'm taking you home," he announced. It felt like déjà vu. "Got my truck tonight, so no arguments about my goddamn safety."

I wasn't in an argumentative mood today, so he had nothing to worry about. Truthfully, I was more than grateful he was there.

"Sorry about your boots," I mumbled, allowing him to take my hand and lead me to his black pickup, which was fortunately close by.

He didn't reply as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door. "Get in."

I hoisted myself onto the seat with no effort, but obviously, I ended up bumping my head on the roof.

"Damn it," I muttered, glaring at Jake as he slammed my door shut. A simple apology on behalf of his stupid car would've sufficed. My head was already pounding enough as it was.

"Buckle up," Jake grunted once he was inside, "and try not to upchuck all over my baby."

"I said I was sorry," I told him, fumbling with my seatbelt. For some reason – fine, because I was totally shitfaced – it was like forcing a square into a triangular hole.

Jake pushed my hands away, strapping me in himself. I felt all of two-years-old.

"Was this your first time drinking?" he asked, once we were on the road. He kept his gaze on the car in front of us.

"No, Jake. Contrary to popular belief, alcohol has passed these lips before, and it wasn't mouthwash or Communion wine."

He laughed, flipping a dial to turn the heater on. "You still feeling nauseous?"

I sucked in air, considering this. "I don't think so. Again, I'm really sorry about your –"

"Maya, for the love of God, forget about my damn shoes. They can be washed."

I fell silent. A million thoughts swirled in my head. Dangerous thoughts. Impractical thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't filter before they became actual words.

"Do you think about her?"

Passing lights illuminated Jake's face and shadows played across his skin, making him look intimidating. His eyes slid in my direction.

"Every day," he replied.

He didn't even have to ask who "her" was.

"Does Ghost ever talk about her?"

I saw Jake's jaw clench, saw how his grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Maya, I can't –"

"She could never resist the bad boys. The bad boys are always the stupid ones."

"Did you just call me stupid?"

"You are stupid. So fucķing stupid you got my cousin killed."

The car jerked to a stop. When I glanced out the window, we were in my apartment complex. I didn't want to be trapped in the car with Jacob Ford anymore, so I shoved my door open and made a move to escape.