MIRACLE
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WE'VE BEEN AT THE SAME CLUB for two hours and I'm bored. The same people filter around and the same drinks flow around the booth we're in. I'd been sitting beside America for the past twenty minutes, playing fuck, marry, kill as we point out various people in the club.
It's her turn next.
"Okay," she shouts, clapping her hands together. "Quinn, Luke . . . "
She trails off, thinking as she taps her chin, but I already know where this is going.
"Jack!" She grins, evil as ever.
I give her a look. "Really, Mer? Jack?"
She only smiles in response. Sighing, I take this as an indication that there was no way of getting out of this one. One of the Hughes brothers would have to be killed off.
"Fine," I huff, taking a large gulp of my vodka cran. "Fuck Quinn, marry Jack, kill Lucas."
"What?" She shouts, eyes wide and smile huge. "You'd kill Luke and fuck Quinn?"
"Well I'm not about to screw Luke, so yes," I giggle. "Besides, Quinn is a secret sex god I just know it."
"I have to agree," she nods. "It's always the quiet ones."
We're suddenly laughing, and Jack raises a single eyebrow at us, ripping his attention from Z and Cole as they chat on the other side of the booth. I copy his actions, raising my eyebrow right back, not realising he'd take that as his queue to excuse himself from the boys and dramatically flop in the space beside me in the booth, his arm lazily thrown over my shoulder.
"What are you two trouble makers giggling about, huh?" He asks, smirking.
I turn to America, my eyes pleading, she takes no notice. "Just playing fuck, marry, kill. You wouldn't believe which Hughes brother Mira would marry!"
"Here we go," I mumble.
"Oh?" Jack smirks, his tone teasing. "Let me guess, Quinn. He's husband material."
"Nope," America grins. "Try again."
Jack squints. "Luke?"
America shakes her head, Jack turns to me in disbelief that I half think is mocking. I roll my eyes.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Hughes. It's only because I'd rather fuck Quinn."
Absolute lies.
"Tell yourself whatever you need, baby girl," he grins, getting too close for comfort. "We all know it's because you think I'm husband coded."
"Go away," I tease, pushing at his chest, my cheeks tinged pink, like they always are when Jack was around.
Jack doesn't move, in fact, he gets closer, pressing his lips to my earlobe. "Doesn't it mean we'd get to fuck every day if we were married?"
I glare at him, unimpressed. He flashes me a million-dollar smile. "So you do wanna screw me?"
"No."
I'm frowning, my arms crossed over my chest and a scowl on my face, Jack is enjoying himself way too much. He leans in for one final comment, whispered to me at a husk, almost a growl.
"Not how it seemed in the Uber when my hand was between your legs."
I choke on my drink, making myself a hundred times more flustered than Jack already had. He was still grinning, smug and cocky and unfortunately, beautiful.
"You two are doing it again," America noted, eyes wide as she watched the encounter between us unfold.
"What?" I asked, frown still etched between my brows.
"Causing tension," she shrugs. "Jack's being cocky, you're being stubborn. Hell, even I can feel it."
"There's no tension," I argue, but then Jack's fingers are dancing up the skin of my spine, then back down again, fluttering over my hip, waist, ribs. My breath hitches, his touch electric.
America gives me a look. "Just go fuck already, nobody's judging."
"Except Trevor," I mumble, subconsciously leaning closer to the boy beside me, his eyes light up, and suddenly his hand is on my thigh, putting light pressure where his fingertips dip dangerously close to the place he'd touched in the car. My breath hitches again, and I turn to him, surprised when our noses graze. My heart does a hiccup. "Jack."
"Okay, I'm going to find my own boyfriend," America chuckles, standing from her place in the booth and leaving me alone with Jack, which makes my stomach flip.
I turn to her, pleading eyes, begging her not to go, she only sends me a wink.
I turn back to Jack, my heart in my throat. "Stop teasing me."
"I'm not teasing, pretty girl," he grins, toying with the ends of my hair. He laces our fingers together, using this as an opportunity to place my hand around his neck, my own fingers subconsciously finding the ends of Jack's tresses. "I just want what I want."
"Well, you can't have me," I tell him, trying to sound confident, but my chest was pounding and my breath was batted and my voice betrays me. I'm still playing with his hair, my other hand finding its way to his chest, right over his heart.
Jack grins, it's lazy and half-hearted, his eyes hooded as he looks only at me. "Looks like I already do."
"I'm not yours," I tell him, whispering, his lips are dangerously near my own. They graze mine, and my breath is hitching again.
"You are mine," he tells me, his voice deep and magical and fucking delicious. "You've always been mine. You always will be mine."
His forefinger and thumb are at my chin, forcing me to look at him, my heart pounds so painfully I swear it's going to explode. Just as I think the tension between us can't get any thicker, he pulls me in, our lips colliding for the briefest of seconds, I open my mouth to grant him the entrance he so desperately wanted—
"Bro, what the fuck?" It's Trevor, he's stomping towards us. "Miracle!"
I pull back, frantically climbing out of Jack's hold. "I'm also going to the bar, bye."
Jack looks dangerously annoyed, like he's ready to kill Trevor for pulling us out of our moment. My lips still tingle where Jack's touched, and I touch the place he'd almost kissed me, my mind reeling. I think I'm going to pass away. I need a drink.
I stand at the bar, catching my breath, and trying not to think about the fact that Jack and Trevor are having a pretty obvious argument behind me. This is what it was like when they were teenagers, and Jack stared to express interest in me.
I decided to ignore them completely and try to enjoy myself, order another vodka cran, feeling way too sober to deal with the shit behind me. A boy is by my side in seconds, he's cute. Tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He isn't Jack, but maybe that was a good thing.
"Hey," he grins, eying my drink. "What you drinking?"
I smile back, flickering my gaze from him to my drink, to Jack. "A vodka cran."
"Sweet," he says, still smiling. "You come here often?"
I eye him cautiously. "Not really, you?"
"Yeah," he breathes, scratching his cheek, he's got a tattoo on his hand. "Sometimes. You here with anyone?"
"Yeah," I tell him, taking a sip of my drink, then nodding in the direction of the booth behind me. He takes a quick second to turn his head, to catch a glimpse of my group.
"Boys, huh?" He asks, smirking. "You belong to any of the em?"
Jack's face flashes in my mind, but I shake it away. "I don't belong to anyone."
He grins. "Good."
Jack has been staring at Miracle for the past five minutes, watching the interaction she was having with a dude who was, frankly, way too fucking close to her. At first, Miracle was fine, keeping her distance, her responses short.
Good girl.
But then, after a further five minutes, she started to get sloppy, and that was when Jack knew something was wrong. The guy was suddenly all over her, and she was letting him. The Miracle he knew would never let a stranger touch her the way he was, but Miracle seemed out of it, unaware of her surroundings.
She was in trouble.
Jack slapped Z's shoulder, earning his attention. "Dude, how many drinks has Mira had?"
"No idea," Trevor shrugged. "Probably two, she never drinks much when she's out."
Jack nodded in the direction of the brunette girl and the much taller man, noting that Miracle seemed like she'd been drinking all day.
"What the fuck happened?" Trevor spat, frowning.
"I think she's in trouble," Jack murmured, eyes not leaving the man's figure. Miracle's head bobs, her eyes fluttering closed, Jack and Trevor share a glance, knowing it was time to step in.
Jack stood closest to Miracle, on the other side of her at the bar, Trevor stood on the other side of the dark haired stranger.
"Hey man," said Trevor, nodding to the boy with his arm around Miracle. "Introduce us to your girl."
"Yeah," said Jack, glaring daggers at the boy. "Introduce us to your girl, bro."
The boy chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Easy fellas, this is my girlfriend, Becca."
"Becca seems a little drunk," Trevor notes, earning the man's attention. Jack takes this time to pull Miracle's head back, opening her eyes and checking her pupils. He looks at Trevor, eyes wide, confirming what they thought to be true. Miracle had been drugged.
"She's fine," mystery man growls.
"What's your name, bro?" Jack asks, picking up Miracle's drink, inspecting it. It was almost black, last he checked, vodka cranberry's weren't black.
"Matthew," he said, this time, his voice wobbled. By now, he's suspected that Trevor and Jack were on to him.
"You know what's so funny, Jack?" Trevor asked. He perked up, as if he was enthralled to find out what was funny. Trevor grinned. "Becca here, last I checked, was actually my sister."
"That is funny," Jack confirmed, Matthew's eyes were wide. "You know what else is funny, Trevor?"
"What's that, Jack?"
Matthew kept his eyes down.
"Becca here, is actually my girlfriend, how funny is that?"
Trevor barked out a bitter laugh. "Hilarious."
Both boys sent dark glares at Matthew. He didn't dare speak. Jack decided to speak for him.
"You better leave my girl the fuck alone while I'm asking nicely."
Matthew glared at both boys, something flashing behind his eyes, and suddenly he was full on smiling. "But I was so excited to see what fun we would have."
Trevor clicked his tongue, knowing it was a bad idea to get between Jack and people he considered family. And, he wasn't dumb, he knew Miracle held a special place in Jack's heart, a place reserved just for her, and that the right words—or the wrong words—could send him over the edge.
The blue of Jack's eyes seemed to darken a whole shade, Trevor took this as his queue to take Miracle from his arms, and help her over to America to get her the hell out of there.
"Just leave it, Jack," Trevor warned, trying to show him that a loser like Matthew was just trying to get under his skin, he wasn't worth his time. "Let's focus on Mira."
Jack seemed to comply, giving Matthew one last glare before following Trevor back to the booth, plans of leaving the club and getting Miracle home in mind. But, Matthew decided he wasn't done, that the fun wasn't over.
"I'm sure Mira is a huge slut between the sheets," he grinned, menacing and cruel. "It's a shame, really, that I didn't get to have my way with her, I'm sure she's a tonne of fun."
Jack tried to keep his cool, he really did, but he'd just openly admitted that he wanted to get Miracle in his bed, while she was drugged and didn't know what was happening.
It happened too fast for anyone to stop him. One minute, Jack was paused, his shoulders tense and his chest heaving, the next, he was throwing a punch so hard to Matthew's face that it broke his nose. Jack had been in his fair share of fights, on and off the ice, but he'd never punched a guy over something this personal, but he'd be damned if he let some cock head get away with talking about Miracle that way.
"You broke my fucking nose!" Matthew shouted, clutching his bleeding face.
"You're a fucking predator," Jack spat, punching him again, this time, an uppercut to the jaw. "Rot in hell."