Seven
Dread filtered into my brain as I digested those four little words. Nixon had said them so vehemently, scowling like the taste of them in his mouth made him feel ill. And, of course, they would do. Regret bounced off him in waves.
My eyes suddenly felt gritty and I blinked, trying to clear the floaters that had suddenly appeared in my vision. I was cross with myself for opening a wound he would probably have preferred to have kept closed.
“I don’t understand. How, when? When you were in the army?” I rattled. My voice was anything but calm.
Nixon took a deep breath, dashing a hand down his face, “Yes.” He then shot me a clouded look.
His words settled heavily in my chest but I wouldn’t allow him to see that. I trusted that there was more to the story at that point. Nixon McKenna could be a mean bastard, but he wasn’t a killer, “Isn’t there always a risk of that? You’re a trained soldier. Aren’t you supposed to shoot the enemy? You know kill or be killed. Surely it was in self-defence?” I was blathering now but couldn’t seem to stop myself. I was in shock. I knew there would be an explanation, Nixon wasn’t a murderer. I could never love a cold-blooded killer—, wait! Love ? Where had that come from?
“I didn’t shoot anyone, Jenna. He was on my squad. He was a close friend of mine.”
“I see.” I attempted to morph my startled expression into one of sympathy, “What was his name?”
Nixon’s face contorted and I could clearly see his pain, “His name was Jonathan. Jonathan Sykes. He was due to get married this summer.” Distress at last broke through his barriers .
I attempted to pull back the threads of an approaching panic attack and encouraged him to give me the entire story.
And he did.
Nixon and Jonathan had been tight since day one in the army. They had trained together, were housed in the same sleeping quarters, and shared several brief tours abroad during their training. Nixon was also tight with Jonathan’s fiancé, Alison.
On the last leg of an unofficial tour in Syria, the APC (armoured personnel carrier) they were travelling in, drove over an old, thought to be defunct, landmine which detonated. There were four soldiers in the vehicle at the time, Jonathan was the driver. Nixon explained that he had been in the passenger seat. The two men in the back were killed instantly, as it was a back tyre that rolled over the mine. It blew that entire part of the truck off. It was also the section where the fuel tank was which resulted in the rest of the wreckage catching fire.
Nixon explained when he regained consciousness how he could smell diesel fumes. He was bleeding heavily from his upper leg; it had been sliced open by a shard of metal and Jonathan had been trapped under the steering column. The entire section concertinaed after the explosion.
Nixon said that he couldn’t hear anything, just ringing in his ears and how the smell had reminded him of the night his house was on fire.
I wanted to pull him into my arms at that point, he looked so sad.
That half of the vehicle was soon engulfed in flames and Nixon managed to free himself but struggled to drag Jonathan out. The bottom half of his friend’s body was wedged and he was also bleeding heavily. Nixon said there was no way of getting to his injuries.
I listened quietly, not interrupting, just allowing him to tell me the horrendous situation he had found himself in. His eyes glazed over at one point like he was reliving the event. He obviously blamed himself for those tragic events .
Jonathan had eventually regained consciousness, begging Nixon not to leave him, but the heat from the flames and how near they were to the ammunition they’d had on board hadn’t given him the time he needed to free his friend.
Nixon explained how he’d dragged his body from the vehicle and that there was nothing he could do. He had watched Jonathan’s body burning and heard his screams as the flames had taken him. The entire front section had exploded as the heat hit the ammunition container.
“I’ll never forget that look in his eyes. Like I’d failed him,” Nixon’s voice was gravelly and heavy with emotion.
“I was the one to tell Alison. She broke down in my arms, screaming how I’d let him die. She was in shock and so I knew she didn’t mean it but it was hard. I saw her a couple of times over the weeks that followed and we eventually slept together.” He paused, watching for my expression. “You see. That’s what type of man I am. I leave you to die and then fuck your widow.”
“You said they were due to get married,” I pointed out quietly. As if that made it OK.
“You get my point. I walked away. Left her to her grief whilst I attempted to manage my own. I’m a cruel, emotionless bastard, Jenna.”
I struggled to control myself but a tear ran down my face, I couldn’t stop it and this drew his attention.
“Please don’t cry. I hate to see you upset,” he said leaning over, mopping the tear up with one finger. I grasped his hand and held it against my cheek and he relaxed.
I took a deep breath. Nixon hadn’t killed anyone but he blamed himself for his friend's death. Probably a mixture of survivor’s guilt in there too. He needed to see someone. A professional, someone who could really help. Purely listening wasn’t enough to exorcise the level of demon that haunted this man.
I made my voice as firm as possible, “You didn’t kill anyone , Nixon. You did what you could. You tried to save him, which is more than most men would do in your situation. You were wounded and out of time. You can’t blame yourself. And as for the girl, people act differently and do crazy things when they’re grieving.”
His eyes roamed over my face and he lowered his hand.
“You’re the only one I have ever told that story to,” he confessed, looking at me with a fond look.
I returned it, “Really? What about Scarlet?” Her name on my lips felt odd. My jealous threatened to choke my common sense.
He shook his head, “She doesn’t know the entire story. She only knows I was injured having seen my scar,” Nixon replied, his face twisting as I flinched, “Sorry.” He knew he’d upset me by unintentionally reminding me that he and she had been intimate.
I shoved the jealous feeling aside as I felt elated that he had confided in me. Told me something so painful to him.
My feelings were so strong at that moment. I had never felt as close to someone as I did to Nixon and I placed my hand against his face and kissed him. He kissed me back, his tongue entering my mouth, stroking my own.
When I pulled back, he was looking at me with sad eyes again.
“What’s wrong?” I questioned.
“That isn’t it. There’s something else,” he sighed, his voice thickening.
“What?”
“Kids. I can’t have children. The shrapnel severed my seminal vesicle.”
Another bomb dropped between us, as I tried to get my head around what he had just said. Nixon couldn’t have children?
“So, you don’t produce anything?” I questioned.
“Oh, I produce something. ‘Firing blanks’ is how the doctor put it,” Nixon said with a twist of his lips. He exhaled and swore simultaneously, blatantly frustrated by this fact .
This news floored me, how awful! So, Nixon would never be a father. The thought made me want to bawl my eyes out, but I had to be strong for him. Show him that it didn’t matter. Not everyone had kids. He could still have an amazing life.
And it was at that point that what he’d said at the stables that day made more sense. ‘And when you find out why we have no future, you’ll stay the fuck away from me.’
This man had been through the wars, literally . I could now fully understand why he wasn’t the same man he was before he left. He had been torturing himself. Believed himself to have left his friend to save his own arse, which was such a distortion of the truth.
So far in my life, I had never been strong for myself but I could be for this man. I would be there for him, whether he wanted me to be or not. He was my first lover and I would have him on any terms. I pushed the thought of him not being able to father a child to one side. I had never even thought of children, why would I at only twenty years old.
After delivering a consoling look, I said nothing. I pulled his head into my chest, his face against my breasts and gave him the hug he’d probably NEVER had.
He held onto me as though his life depended on it.
*****
We dozed together for an hour or so and then got dressed. We didn’t have sex again, Nixon said I’d be too sore and I needed to let my body heal. I didn’t say anything, but I was relieved as I was extremely tender between my legs. I only noticed it when I was bending to retrieve my dress and underwear from the floor .
I used the bathroom to tidy myself up and Nixon dressed and started routing through the boxes. He explained that he needed his passport and a few other documents that he’d left behind. Something to do with his name being added as a director of his father’s farming business. He mentioned Companies House and a couple of other organisations.
The drive on the way home was quiet, we chatted intermittently, speaking briefly about the constant war between Amy and Mason. I knew Nixon didn’t like my sister and that didn’t really sit well with me but what could I do? I didn’t exactly like his brother Boyd either.
When he pulled up at the bottom of the driveway, I felt a moment of panic in case I was seen getting out of his truck, but looking up at the house, my brother’s car wasn’t there. Amy didn’t drive and she wouldn’t be able to see right to the bottom where the gates into our property were as the area was thick with trees.
Nixon unclipped his seat belt and turned toward me as I was preparing myself to leave the car.
“Thank you, for listening to all my bullshit,” Nixon said with a catch in his throat, obviously not used to saying those two important words.
I appreciated it but felt a numbness start to chill my bones. Was this it? Would things go back to the way they were and I wouldn’t see him again? That thought was painful to process.
My eyes roamed over his face, drinking him in, “It isn’t bullshit Nixon. You need to go easy on yourself. You shouldn’t live in the past. You have the rest of your life ahead of you,” I replied and then grinned. Thinking how cliched my words sounded. Nixon mirrored my look.
“Says the wise old owl. Where did this Jenna come from?”
“You I think, you bring it out of me,” I said, shrugging, trying to bat off that sick feeling. I didn’t want to go back home, I wanted to stay with Nixon .
There was a moment of silence between us, it felt slightly awkward which was silly considering everything we had just shared.
Shuffling in my seat, I drew my bag over my shoulder.
“I better get back. Thanks for today.”
A flicker of an emotion I couldn’t describe swam across his features before he leaned over the gear stick. I met him halfway, our mouths fusing together in a passionate kiss. No tongues, just our lips pressed together, joining us.
He was the first to pull away and I felt like I’d lost a limb.
“Goodnight then,” I said, holding my breath; waiting for Nixon to say those words he always did. Goodbye.
Hope soared in my chest as he winked at me and said, “Goodnight, Jenna.”
After one last look, I climbed from the vehicle and pretty much skipped up the driveway. He must have remained there to see me safely into the house as the engine only started as I mounted the porch. This caused my tummy to dance in delight.
I didn’t have to use my key which meant Amy had to be in and I threw my bag on the floor in the hallway of our house where the huge sweeping staircase sat. I checked my phone for messages and had a couple from Charles and one from my cousin Wynter. Her parents were going through a divorce and it was getting messy.
I shouted for Amy, but there was no reply. It was only just after three in the afternoon and so I went to my dad’s study to check out the internet. I suddenly felt the need to do some shopping.
Thoughts of my time with Nixon swam into my head as did the fact that I was no longer a virgin. I wondered what my mother would say if she ever found out that my first time was with one of the McKenna boys. She’d probably flip her lid.
I replied to a couple of Wynter’s messages and the last one from Charles and then placed my phone on the table .
Not one to usually bother with Facebook, I went on there to do some stalking, I even looked for Nixon but he wasn’t on there. Boyd was, his profile picture showed him looking like an arrogant, full-of-himself dick. He was leaning against the bonnet of an Audi with his arms folded. I didn’t spend much time on his page.
As I was looking at evening college courses for adults, my phone went off to say I had a message and I swiped the screen, thinking it would be either Charles or Wynter.
The Psycho flashed onto the screen. Nixon had sent me a WhatsApp. OMG! Nixon! I had to change his name on my phone now. I quickly did that before I read the message as girlish, giddy excitement swirled in my stomach.
Are you missing me? His text said. I held my phone against my chest with a smile so wide it almost hurt.
I decided to have some fun and keyed in, I’m sorry, who is this?
Toying for a few beats whether to click send, I went for it. It didn’t take him long to reply.
He sent a red-faced, angry emoji but I waited before I replied as I could see the ‘Nixon is typing’ icon.
Little minx. I’ll cut to the chase. I need to see you again, Jenna.
A surge of excitement swept through me; Nixon needed to see me again!
As I sat on my bed and rolled that thought around, I became unsure as to whether to take this as a compliment. What if he was just after sex? Did I really want to continue things on those terms? Yes, it had been amazing , but if that’s all Nixon wanted me for, surely, I’d start to feel used, cheap even? Having no experience of the types of emotion I felt toward him, it was hard to say.
Jenna?
And after that last text, I made my decision.
The guy was like a drug to me at the end of the day. What could you do?
When ?
Tomorrow. Me and the boys are going off-roading.
I knew that meant driving around dirt tracks and rivers in a four-by-four for sport.
A wobble of anxiousness crept in through my earlier feelings of excitement. Me and the boys. Did he mean his brothers? And if he did, wouldn’t they think it odd that I was there?
The boys? I questioned.
I almost held my breath whilst I waited for his reply.
Yes. Mase and Boyd. But you’ll be with me. We’ll be in the Defender. They’ll take Mason’s piece of shit Jeep.
I messaged back. What about Seth?
Seth’s in Brighton at his mate’s house for two weeks.
Confusion fell into the mixture of emotions I was experiencing.
I’m confused. Have you told them about us or am I to be there as your friend?
It seemed to take him forever to reply.
As I’ve said countless times. I could never be your friend.
I grimaced. Really, then what the heck were we now?
It now felt like someone had their hand around my heart and they were squeezing it as sadness enveloped me. I couldn’t do this. I was already head over heels obsessed with the boy. Nixon’s it will only end in tears remark came galloping back.
My phone pinged. Dare I look down?
His next words almost floored me and my fingers clutched the edge of my father’s desk until my knuckles turned white.
You mean much more to me than that x.
Hope smashed away that sinking sensation and I shot to my feet, almost stabbing my reply into the screen. What time?
It will be an early one. Six sharp and wear comfortable, casual clothes .
OK, see you then. I purposefully didn’t leave a kiss, even though I wanted to.
Night x. Nixon replied with a kiss.
Grinning like a schoolgirl at the screen, I switched off Dad’s PC and made my way to my room, re-reading his messages repeatedly. As I passed the bathroom, I heard Amy splashing in the bath.
“Hey you, it’s only me,” I said with a light tap on the door. I wanted her to know I was back.
“Hey. You have a good day?” she shouted through the wood barrier. This made my grin even meatier.
“The best,” I replied.
*****
The next morning, taking on board Nixon’s text about clothing, I wore skinny jeans, and a tank top and pulled my old-school Leavers hoodie over the top. I’d checked the weather forecast and it was predicted to be sunny but I wanted to be prepared just in case.
I shoved my purse and phone into a rucksack and pushed my feet into ballet flats.
My hair was still wet from the shower and I dragged it into a messy knot on the top of my head. I didn’t bother with make-up.
As I made my way out of my bedroom, I bumped into Amy who was just coming out of the bathroom looking worse for wear and half asleep. She had bedhead hair and must have slept in her make-up as she had panda eyes. I wondered where she’d gone last night, I heard her leave the house. Maybe I should have paid more attention being the older sister. We all seemed to be living separate lives since our parents had gone away. Maybe we were all desperate for the freedom. Both siblings had been less focused on me which was a good thing. My mother still sent me a text every day to check all was OK .
“You’re up early,” Amy croaked, rubbing her face.
A flare of panic shot through me. Should I say I was going out with Charles again?
“Yes. I was going to leave you a note again. I’m off for the day. I’m going off-roading,” I explained, my voice slightly higher than it should be. My words seemed to wake her up and she peered down at me with a suspicious look.
“Off-roading? You ? You know it involves mud and shit?”
Her comment rattled me. It made me feel like I was some type of princess who didn’t like to get dirty when I was nothing like that. Amy had me so wrong in so many ways but then when had I ever corrected her? My bad really.
“It’s fine. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Who are you going with? I can’t imagine Charles being into that shit,” she scoffed with a grin. Charles was always extremely pristine and not an outdoors type.
I left it a beat, pulling my rucksack further onto my shoulder. I felt uncomfortable but just couldn’t bring myself to lie again, “Nixon.” There, I had said it.
Amy’s face contorted . “What the actual fuck? Nixon, as in Nixon fucking McKenna, Nixon?”
“Yes. We’re friends now,” I informed her with a wobble in my voice. Maybe I should have lied as she was now going to make me late.
“You have got to be kidding. Does Mattie know?” She shot out, jamming a hand through her messy hair, staring at me like I was suddenly a stranger.
“Probably not. It isn’t his business anyway Amy, or yours really.” She didn’t like that and her mouth dropped open. She was genuinely confused and surprised I’d stood up to her. Good.
“Look. I know it seems sudden, but you have nothing to worry about. He’s a different with me now. Nice even.”
“ Nice my arse. He’s about as nice as the shits. My God Jenna, use your brain. Nixon McKenna is being ‘nice’ to you with an ulterior motive. It’s called trying to get into your pants.” Amy had a point of course, but I shoved that thought to one side. “I don’t want you to go, Jenna.” She added, stepping in front of me and folding her arms over her chest.
Stand your ground, stand your ground, my internal self said, “I’m sorry Amy, but it’s not up to you. Please don’t make this any harder.”
Her chest expanded as she took a deep breath, “I think you’re fucking nuts. He’ll try it on you know. He’s a dirty bastard, they all are.”
“He won’t, anyway we're not going alone. There are others, it’s a group thing,” I informed her, omitting who the other members of the party were.
This seemed to appease her slightly, “So you’re going with other people?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I suppose that’s not that bad. The thought of you alone with that dick worries me,” Amy sighed, looking at me crossly.
“Please, Amy. I really want to go.” I was annoyed that I now appeared to be asking her permission like she was our mother, but old habits die hard it appeared.
Her tired eyes roamed over my face before she caved, “Fine. Who am I, you’re twenty at the end of the day. Look, I won’t say anything to Mattie but I know he won’t be happy. Do you have your phone on you?”
I nodded.
“If he starts to be a prick with you, text me or call me and we’ll come and get you,” she said. “He’s a McKenna and a dick but I know he isn’t a rapist or anything. I get that he’d never hurt you, physically anyway. Emotionally, now that’s another story. Do not fall for that massive twat.”
“I’ll try my best,” I promised with a grin .
It was probably a good thing that I’d bumped into her so early as Amy wasn’t a morning person. That was probably the only reason she hadn’t fought tooth and nail to stop me going. It could have been my determination but I doubted it.
As I left the house and raced down our porch I could see two vehicles, two extremely battered dirty vehicles parked at the bottom of our drive.
Nixon was in a dark green Land Rover Defender that had mud splashed up the sides and I could see his brothers in a black Jeep parked behind. Mason smiled at me but Boyd just looked forward out of the windshield with a blank expression.
My face lit up as I looked at Nixon. One eyebrow was arched as his gaze roamed over me, “Good morning, beautiful,” he greeted in a low husky voice.
The door creaked and crunched as I climbed up into the huge car and settled my bag in the footwell. I was about to pull my seatbelt on when Nixon leaned across the gearstick and took me gently by the chin. Our eyes locked and I immediately knew his intention.
My heart started to beat a bit faster as he pulled my face close whilst lowering his own, placing his lips against mine. He tasted like sin and it reminded me of that stolen hour in his room at the base. The way he had lost himself inside me. That sexual release I had experienced for the first time. Amy’s do not fall for that massive twat comment rolled around my brain.
Our kiss didn’t last long but I felt it as it spoke to my body, gooseflesh skittering up my arms. My mouth parted and his tongue swept inside and I was about to melt into him when a car horn sounded, loud and sharp from behind us.
Nixon pulled back and shot a glance through the back window before giving his brothers the middle finger. He looked back at me with a grin and I turned around to see Mason looking at us with a mocking expression and raised eyebrows .
“They’re just fucking jealous. Let’s go.” I leaned back in my seat with a smile and Nixon started the engine. It was loud as it growled to life with a throaty roar.
“How do you feel today? How does your body feel I mean,” Nixon said as he steered the car out onto the road. I could hear Mason and Boyd in the other car following behind us.
My cheeks felt hot as a sudden burst of embarrassment hit me. Nixon saw it and his smile widened as he refocused on the road.
“I’ve seen and pretty much touched every part of your body Jenna. Surely my question doesn’t make you shy?”
I gave a nervous laugh as he was right but I couldn’t help it. I answered his question of course, “I’m OK. Fine really. I don’t really feel any different.”
Nixon released a chuckle and jammed the vehicle up into the next gear. The cab of the car was spacious, with satellite navigation and leather interior. It would have been top of the range, once.
“I do,” he replied, shooting me a look.
“In what way?”
“In that, I can’t get you out of my head. You’ve well and truly fucked me up, Jenna.”
“In a good way, I hope?”
“The jury’s out on that one. I feel like a schoolboy panting after the hottest girl in school.”
“So, what did you tell your brothers about us?” Part of me hoped he hadn’t told them we’d slept together.
“No much really. I answer to no one, Jenna. You should remember that.”
I ignored that firmness in his tone. Nixon was a bossy arrogant sod, but I knew that already, “But you must have told them I was coming today? ”
“I did, I told them and they had the sense not to question me.” As he twisted more toward me, I saw the faint bruise on his cheekbone. Had they been fighting because of me? The thought sent a shard of panic through me.
“Have you been fighting? Your face…”
He shook his head, “Yes, I’ve been fighting, but not in the way you think. This is from last night.”
“Who with? Who did you fight with?” I gasped, horrified.
“It was me against Mase last night.”
My brow scrunched, “But you just said…”
He chuckled, “It isn’t what you think, it was an arranged match. We fight for sport.” I was well and truly perplexed and Nixon saw that.
“You fight for sport?” I just couldn’t compute such a preposterous thought.
As we drove through several villages, Nixon explained that he and his brothers had set up a fighting syndicate years ago. Like a club that people could be part of. The rules whilst in the ring were like those of professional boxing matches. Boys would be matched with opponents of similar build and experience to ensure the fights were fair. Nixon explained that they used an old horse training yard which was already lined with bark for safety as the fighting ring.
I listened intently as he told me about how the idea came about and that their father Mitchell had attempted to put a stop to it several times. Now his health was so poor, he didn’t know what was going on from one day to the next. I found it interesting when he spoke about his dad that he didn’t speak with any affection and I wondered what type of relationship they’d had. Amy had told me, that Mitchell could be a cruel man.
We chatted briefly about his mother Melanie. I had seen her on and off over the years but not to talk to. Nixon said that she looked after Mitchell well, considering he hadn’t been the easiest man to live with. He explained that they went away a lot. Melanie would accompany her husband on retreats that were arranged for people with similar illnesses. To give them a change of scene, almost like a holiday with medical help.
“So, I told Amy this morning I was going out for the day with you,” I informed him, placing my hand against the dashboard as the car lurched forward down a dirt track.
“And how did she take it? Or do I need to ask?”
I wrinkled my nose, “Not well. I must say, it’s a good job I caught her first thing. She was quite disorientated. She isn’t a morning person.”
He grunted at that, “Jenna, the girl isn’t a morning, afternoon, or evening person. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a fucked off expression. Your sister has issues.”
Smiling, I placed my hands on my lap and twisted toward him, “She’s just high-spirited.”
“That’s one way of putting it. Anyway, let’s not talk about Amy. It sours my mood,” Nixon stated with a roll of his eyes. He looked extra handsome today in faded jeans and a black jumper. Knowing what was under those clothes gave me butterflies. Sexy ones, if butterflies could be considered sexy.
Suddenly the car lurched again as Nixon steered it down into a valley. We were surrounded by trees so tall they cut out some of the light. The sun wasn’t fully up anyway at that time.
There was a growl from the engine of the other car and then Mason pulled alongside us. I leaned back in my seat as Nixon lowered the window so they could talk.
I noted Mason’s face was battered and bruised, which immediately relayed who had won their match. Nixon’s had hardly a scratch on him.
“Good morning, Jenna,” Mason began with a grin and I smiled my reply, “Which trail shall we do? River end or the caves?” he then shouted over me toward Nixon .
“River. We’ll follow you. And keep it steady dipshit. We have a newbie with us,” Nixon said, his voice firm and very much in control.
Boyd grunted at that one but Mason nodded, “Will do,” and then accelerated past us.
It was a rough ride but exhilarating . Nixon was so attentive, checking I was OK as he steered the huge vehicle up sloping terrain so steep, I thought the car would slip back down it at one point. The Defender growled like a beast as it tackled hilly mountainside and scary downward slopes, we also drove through some massive puddles. Luckily, Nixon had put the windows up before we’d hit them. The water had sloshed against the glass instead of my face thank goodness.
One of Nixon’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and I remembered how those fingers felt against my body.
Mason and Boyd led the way, occasionally blasting our windscreen with mud.
Nixon and I spoke about all the different locations the boys had been off-roading before and briefly about the fighting club they were all part of. Which still didn’t sit well with me. What if Nixon got hurt? I inwardly smiled at that one, the guy was huge and could handle himself. He’d probably never meet his match, physically.
Eventually, we came to a clearing, out of the trees and the sun was shining brightly now, making the mud on Mason’s Jeep glitter. He had parked up and was out of the vehicle checking one of the tyres. Nixon pulled alongside and spoke through his open window, “You good?”
I couldn’t hear what Mason said, but Nixon turned the engine off and went to climb out of the truck, “Stretch your legs if you want. We won’t be long and then it’s your turn.”
My turn? What did that mean? I couldn’t drive.
“Really? ”
“Yes, really Jenna. Knocking you out of your comfort zone is my life’s work,” he then slammed the door and went over to Mason.
I briefly checked my phone and then placed my bag back in the footwell and climbed out of the car.
Boyd was leaning against the other side of the jeep to where his brothers were. He was smoking a cigarette and looking out into space. I noticed he had smudges under his eyes like he was tired.
My shoulders felt tense but I went for it anyway, “Hello Boyd, I didn’t know you smoked,” I began in a friendly voice. After blowing a stream of smoke down his nostrils, he flicked the bud away with one hand and turned to me, or should I say on me.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Jenna Taylor-Joy and it appears there’s shit I don’t know about you either. So, when did you start fucking my brother because I have to say, I didn’t see that one coming,” Boyd said in a cold voice, looking down his nose at me. It was a shame as he was so good-looking but the way he spoke to me was ugly.
I felt like he’d slapped me and there was a long gritty silence as my mind raced. I turned his words over in my head. He was so crude; he really had no filter at all. He didn’t like me and nothing I did would make a difference. He was probably pissed off that I’d never succumbed to his version of flirting over the last several years. I had caught him looking at me so many times.
“It isn’t like that Boyd. We’re friends.” I knew I was lying but what could I do?
“Nixon isn’t friends with females, especially ones that look like you.” I knew in some twisted way he was complimenting me but it didn’t feel nice.
I shot him a pained look from beneath my lashes. I was so not ready for his attack, “And don’t look at me like that. You may be able to twist any every other man with a pulse around your finger, but it won’t work on me. Not now you’re with my brother. I don’t do sloppy seconds. ”
I almost snorted, like he would ever have had the chance with me.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do. You are Nixon’s brother and he cares about you and so in a funny way, I suppose I do. You look tired.”
He snorted my concern away, “You should know that it won’t last. My brother’s cock has a mind of its own and it gets bored fast,” he sneered.
My insides tightened. “It isn’t really any of your business Boyd.”
Ignoring me, he carried on regardless, “Once the novelty of being between a Taylor-Joy’s legs wears off. He will fuck you off, just like that.” He snapped his fingers in front of my face. His breath was tinged with smoke.
The conversation was making me feel lightheaded and I turned and walked over to the boys, determined not to allow him to ruin my day.
“Everything OK?”
Both boys lifted their heads from the back wheel they were studying. I noticed that the paint was flaking off the jeep in several places.
“Yes, it’s fine. Possibly a wheel bearing on its way out,” Nixon answered.
“Is it safe to drive?” I asked.
Mason, who was staring at the wheel with a blank expression nodded, “Fuck knows. I guess will see when my fucking tyre falls off. But hey ho, I like to live dangerously. How are you finding the ride?”
“Pretty wild.” I didn’t mean it to but my answer came out with a double meaning and Mason’s grin became much meatier.
Nixon rolled his eyes at his younger brother as Mason, then patted him on the back, “Well, go easy on him. He’s an old man now, doesn’t have the stamina he used to,” he said with a cocky smile.
“Alright dickhead, you can get back in your piece of shit Jeep now with its dodgy fucking wheel and follow us . Jenna is going to show you prick’s how it’s done.”
Swallowing, I said, “I am?”
“Yep. ”
I blew out a breath, “But I don’t drive, I’ve never driven a car.”
He must have heard the flicker of panic in my voice, “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to. I will teach you,” he soothed.
“Is it legal?”
“We’re off-road. There are no police rules here.” Nixon’s eyes dropped briefly toward my mouth before he lifted his head again.
A mixture of anxiety and excitement pooled in the pit of my stomach as Nixon walked over to me and took me by the hand. He then directed me back to his car and assisted me up into the driver's side. I felt like a bag of nerves as Nixon walked around the front of the bonnet, eyeing me through the glass with an amused expression.
He climbed up into the passenger side and then said, “If Boyd gives you any shit, I want to know about it.” His voice was firm and brooked no argument. I wasn’t in a rush to tell him what his brother had said though. Unless he had raised that because he’d heard our exchange. I decided not to worry about it, I had bigger fish to fry. Driving a fucking car for one thing. Wait? Did I just use the word fuck in my head? Nixon and his brothers appeared to be rubbing off on me in more ways than one.
“Jenna,” Nixon prompted, checking he had my attention. “Are we clear?” he said, dragging my thoughts back to Boyd and his viciousness.
I nodded, “Yes. Of course.” I probably still wouldn’t say anything. The last thing I wanted to do was come between Nixon and his brothers. Plus, I needed practice fighting my own battles.
Mason started the engine of the Jeep and Nixon leaned over me and started the engine of the Defender for me by turning the key. His elbow scraped the bottom of my breasts, making me jump. “Bit skittish, Jenna,” he said with a cocky grin. “Your body knows mine now, there’s no need to be nervous. ”
I took in those words, savouring them. Before I could stop myself, I said, “And will they know each other again?” I questioned with a twinkle in my eye. My attempt at being playful.
Nixon drank this in, his eyes glazing over as they locked on mine, almost with a stamp of invisible ownership, “Of course, many times.” He made a rough sound in his throat and I saw the quiver of need in his expression. Nixon McKenna wanted me and wasn’t hiding it now. But did he want to whole me or just my body?
The thrill that darted through me was electric. I could feel my pulse beating in my throat and the colour that flushed across my cheeks.
“You blush so prettily,” Nixon husked, suddenly looking pleased with himself that he had managed to put that colour in my cheeks. “You flush like that when you’re excited too.”
My cheeks were now flaming, “Come on, let’s do this.”
I can honestly say I had never experienced that much fun before. I even caused Nixon to break out into full-on belly laughs. Something I had never seen.
Driving a four-by-four was easier than I thought, it being an automatic. Downhill the clutch kicked in automatically and made your decent nice and smooth. Well, smooth considering we were travelling down what looked like a mud landslide. We then entered the water and I went the wrong way. Nixon had to take the steering wheel and fix my mistake as deep water threatened to stall the engine.
“Fuck me, Jenna. Are you trying to kill us,” he yelled, tears almost streaming down his face, he was laughing that much. “You can’t drive for shit.”
I also got the giggles. I really was quite useless and narrowly missed a few trees.
After around an hour, we regrouped back at the clearing, pulling up next to Mason .
“Fucking hell. I almost shit myself when she turned the wrong way up the brook,” Mason said through the window as he pulled up to park beside us. Even Boyd was smiling which was a surprise.
“Yeah, you need to give your woman fucking lessons on the difference between right and left,” Boyd said with a grin. The fact that he called me Nixon’s woman sent that warm feeling swimming through me again. Nixon didn’t correct him either.
We drove home, reminiscing and Nixon kept saying how lucky he felt to be alive, joking obviously. Our banter didn’t get deep and we didn’t talk about us or what it was we were doing.
When we got to our driveway, Nixon parked outside mine and I waved as Mason and Boyd passed us, leaving us alone.
Nixon pulled the handbrake on.
“Do you want to come back to mine? You could stay over?” he said in a deep, husky voice. And I so wanted to, more than anything but Amy would probably be sat in the kitchen waiting for me. My phone had gone off several times during my turn to drive. She was probably just checking up on me.
“I want to, I really do but I need to get home. Amy knows we were together today and she’ll want to check I got back OK.”
Nixon rolled his eyes, “Does she think I’ll have murdered you and buried the body?”
I smiled, “No, of course not. But if I don’t go back, she’ll probably come to your house and raise hell. She’s very protective of me.”
Nixon rolled his shoulders before turning in his seat, his hands shooting out to encircle my arms and pull me toward him. We were face-to-face.
“Well, she needs to back the hell off. That’s my job now Jenna. Make sure she knows that, or I will. And I will be less filtered than you will be,” Nixon said, his voice steely .
His mouth then met mine in a passionate kiss, his tongue pushing into my mouth, stamping his ownership. I totally understood those comments he’d made about being territorial and I loved it.
I spoke with Amy briefly but Mattie was there so we talked in a weird type of code that I didn’t really understand. Mattie had saved some BBQ for me and I tucked in whilst he chattered about his friend Rob. In fact, he didn’t shut up about him. They had become inseparable. It was fine as it took the heat off me. I could feel Amy’s eyes drilling into me during our entire dinner.
As I lay in bed that night a flush scorched my skin as memories of my time with Nixon flooded my thoughts, and I had the best night’s sleep ever. My dreams were full of past moments and the hopes of things to come.
Things were now moving fast with Nixon, I just hoped I continued to enjoy the ride.