13. Done For Me
DONE FOR ME
PRESENT
Avoidance is the name of the game, and I’ve perfected it into an art form.
Since Jase swindled his way into my house, I’ve managed to steer clear of him and even the Stepmonster almost entirely these past seven days.
Sure, my schedule is a bit fucked up—like going for my morning run before five o’clock and leaving for work by seven (despite not starting until ten)—but it’s worth it to keep my sanity in check.
Sadly, I’m not so lucky on Day Eight.
I finish doing my hair and unplug my flatiron, exiting the bathroom momentarily to slip into my work uniform, a.k.a. a basic pair of black shorts and a matching t-shirt with Castelli’s logo printed across the chest.
When I return to the bathroom, I head back in front of the sink and grab my mascara, only registering a second too late that the water to the shower is turned on.
I look up into the mirror and—
“Holy shit!” I whirl around to find Jase sans clothes, save for boxer briefs that he’s also peeling off, giving me a glimpse of more than I wished to see. “What the hell are you doing?”
Jase doesn’t look bothered in the least, casually nodding down at himself and over to the shower, like that’s answer enough.
When I’ve left at seven every morning this week, the jackass’s bedroom door has always remained closed. Yet, it’s only a quarter after six, and he just so happens to be up?
I’m not buying it.
Challenging him on that very fact doesn’t get me anywhere, however, because he just lifts his hands up in defense, feigning innocence. “My apologies. No one was in here, so I safely assumed the bathroom was unoccupied.”
“Oh, and the fact that the light was already on wasn’t a hint? Not to mention that there’s music playing?” I deadpan, cutting off the song in question as I grab my phone.
In typical Jase fashion, he just smirks at this. “Not sure if you noticed, but your sister has a rather bad habit of leaving pretty much every light on in every room she walks in and out of.”
Say what now?
“And I assumed the music was connected with the house’s sound system, because Sia was already playing from Vanessa’s room when I walked past,” he adds.
On this…he isn’t wrong. I heard “Unstoppable” playing earlier, which inspired my current playlist.
Jase makes no effort to put his clothes back on or shut off the water. He just lounges there, leaning against the wall with the grace and predatory stillness I’d best associate with a lion. “You tired yet?”
The question takes me off-guard, leaving me with the highly intelligible retort of, “…Huh?”
“With all the sneaking around,” he clarifies.
I’m pretty sure I’m preprogrammed to fight with him, because—like an idiot—I do just that. “I’m not ‘sneaking.’”
Jase’s left eyebrow quirks up just enough to issue a silent challenge.
“I prefer the term ‘circumventing assholes.’”
He smirks. “You could always try confronting these people. Who knows? One of them might surprise you.”
Jase always had muscle, but the definition in them now makes it clear he could easily snap my spine in half if he so chose.
Still, I level the jackass with a flat look as I eye him up and down, like I’m unimpressed.
“Well, bless your heart, Rivers, but I know a lost cause when I see one. And I’m not interested in wasting my time. ”
His expression darkens, and for a second, a flicker of something akin to hurt flashes across his face.
The way I practically sneered his last name might have something to do with it.
Does he think I meant the comment in the way Blythe would?
That he holds no value simply because of his social status?
I’m tempted to clarify the statement but immediately think better of it. Why should I care if he took it the wrong way? The guy is a raging asshole who made my life a living hell. If the worst thing I do to him is bruise his ego, he’s getting off easy.
Jase has the audacity to look at me like I’m the unreasonable one here, suggesting that we should “finally clear the air.”
“And I suggest you should go fuck yourself.” I return to the mirror and go about my business, pretending like he’s not even here as I apply the last of my makeup. Well, at least until he comes to stand behind me, bracing both hands on the counter beside my hips, effectively blocking me in.
“I don’t recall you being so feisty.” The smile that greets me in the mirror is enough to raise my hackles, but my brain bypasses any logic to treat him like the threat he is, evidently flipping my bitch switch.
No way in hell is this prick going to intimidate me.
“And I don’t recall you being this dumb,” I counter.
“How about you read the room? Or the house? Or the town? Take the hint, dickhead. Nobody wants you here. And trust me when I say whatever grand scheme you have to annoy or embarrass me has already been outdone, by a long shot, so you’re wasting your breath. ”
That smile of his only grows wider. “As much fun as it is getting under your skin, my reasons for being in town are far more ambitious. Annoying you now is just an added benefit.”
He may have me boxed in, but I still have enough room to turn and face him, not caring that he’s close enough for me to feel his breath on my lips.
“Be that as it may, I won’t be your punching bag or plaything for the next two months.
Your old merry band of psychos may have immunity around here, but I seriously doubt the police will be so lenient with you. ”
Jase’s eyes narrow, but I can’t quite decipher the look.
I do know that mentioning the police is more than a little extreme, because nothing Jase ever did himself would warrant that kind of reaction, but I’m not pussyfooting with boundaries here.
He needs to be reminded where he sits on this new food chain, and it ain’t anywhere as high as it used to be.
His arms slide inward, more than blocking me in. The asshole has me pinned. “What exactly happened?”
As if he didn’t already know. Even if news didn’t reach him on the West Coast, someone here would have been all too happy to rehash everything that went down—well, at least what was made public. And it doesn’t take a detective to figure out who was behind it.
As for the rest…
I scoff. “What? You expect me to give you tips on how to torture me better?”
He returns the sound, although far more mockingly, leaning in further. “And there you go again. Always assuming the worst of me.”
“Yes, because you suggest I should confront the assholes in my life out of the goodness of your heart, despite knowing damn well it’s the equivalent of tying cinder blocks to my feet before shoving me into the water.
” I eliminate any fraction of air left between us until our noses are practically touching.
I don’t care. I’m not backing down. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“We both know you love watching me drown, but if you’re dumb enough to try Trent’s tactics, I guarantee you won’t like the outcome.
Fuck around with me, Rivers, and find out. I dare you.”
Yeeeeah, seeing the devil in that smile he returns has me immediately regretting my lapse in self-preservation.
Because I’ve never known Jase to turn down a bet.
Knowing that his punch-worthy smile will continue to haunt me throughout the morning, I don’t waste any time leaving the bathroom to finish my routine. All I want is to exit stage left…
But when I head outside, I find a certain section of the driveway empty, right where my car should be parked.
What the hell?
I seriously doubt anyone stole it, given that far nicer cars sit in neighboring driveways on either side of us. Plus, Vanessa’s is still right there and is more expensive than mine.
Again, what the hell?
The prospect of talking to my stepmom is about as enticing as an elbow to the face, but I haven’t run into my sister yet, and for my dad to know anything, he’d have to be paying attention to something around here for once.
Opening the garage door only leaves me more confused.
The classic muscle car my dad has been “fixing” still sits at the far end, dead as a doornail, alongside his Escalade, but my stepmom’s pink monstrosity is gone.
Frustrated, I look around again, like I’ll suddenly find my car parked where it’s supposed to be, only for my eyes to land on… the motorcycle out on the driveway.
Son of a bitch.
Did that asshole seriously take my car? I had only been in my bedroom for fifteen minutes, and he was supposed to be taking a shower. But what if he hadn’t? We all have spare sets of keys hanging in the laundry room by the entrance to the garage.
I head inside, and sure enough, my set is missing.
I can picture it right now—Jase slinking past my room and scooping up the keys from the hook, driving off down the street with his stupid, cheerful whistle as he steers into every puddle and pothole humanly possible.
I’m tempted to storm over to that damn bike and kick it over, except for the fact that I can quite clearly hear Jase’s whistling, and it’s not outside.
It’s coming from the kitchen.
Yes, I probably look like a petulant child having a tantrum, but if he so much as puts a scratch on my baby, he’s about to lose a testicle.
The jackass strolls around the island sans shirt, drinking a cup of coffee and grinning at my approaching form. I’m not sure what’s more annoying: his expression or the absurdly sugary tone as he asks, “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Where is she?”
“She?”
“My car,” I practically growl.
Jase just bats his eyes, feigning ignorance. “How would I know?”
“Cut the shit. What did you do? Park it in someone else’s driveway?
Leave it on one of the side streets?” With the short window of time he had, Jase couldn’t have done much more and still make it back to the house…
unless he took it to the end of the street and left the keys in the ignition with the engine running.