Chapter 1-Jade

 

Men are dicks. Untrustworthy assholes. Plain and simple. And what do untrustworthy assholes deserve? Retribution…

I stewed as the shitty town of Pikestown, Alabama, whizzed past the lowered window. Cassie and Monroe, my best friends, were in the front of Cassie’s clapped-out old Honda. They sang along to the terrible pop song rattling through the speakers. On any other day, I might have tried to share in their carefree joy, but all I had was anger. And I clung to it. Breathed life into that fucker until it was an inferno of wrath.

The exhaust rattled when Cassie swerved into the run-down Kanga Mart gas station on University Street.

“Of course there’s a line,” she grumbled, pulling in behind a pickup.

One of the two pumps had been out of service since I’d started college at State over two years ago, but Kango Mart’s gas was four cents cheaper than the rest of the stations, and four cents per gallon was worth waiting for…well, maybe in a car that had air conditioning.

I fanned myself as a drop of sweat rolled down my back. So much for fall. Right then, it felt like Satan’s asshole.

A group of college guys in their stupid frat shirts came out of the mini-mart, carting a case of beer. They were chatting and fooling around, in no rush as they approached their truck. Given, it was Labor Day weekend, but who the hell was out of bed at nine on a Sunday morning, much less buying beer? Not that I partied anyway, but we had a reason for being here at this time—the fact that everyone else shouldn’t have been.

Cassie pulled her blond waves off her neck, holding a messy bun on top of her head as she leaned out the window. “Could you hurry the fuck up? Some of us are melting here.”

The group of guys looked over. One locked eyes with me through my open window. Cackling, he made a stabbing motion in the air. “What’s up, Jason Voorhees?”

His friends broke out in laughter at the same time Monroe gave them a middle finger. That had them shutting up and getting into their truck. I was sure it was the psycho-ginger vibe she gave off.

Monroe turned to me in the back seat. “I should have let you stab him.” She held her pointer finger and thumb centimeters apart. “Just a little.”

Him being Brent. Now known as Bare-minimum Brent, because he couldn’t do the bare-fucking-minimum and keep his dick in his pants. Well, really, his tongue in his mouth…

I’d thought he loved, or, at the very least, respected me. Until the previous night, when I’d found him in the bedroom of a frat house, face-down in a cheerleader’s pussy. Always the cheerleaders—peppy and bright and shiny. The polar opposite of me, and the antithesis of everything I hated.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

Apparently BMB hadn’t heard the saying, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned because after being caught, he’d had the audacity to follow me downstairs, with her pussy still on his breath. Telling me it was a mistake, and he loved me. I’d seen red and pulled a kitchen knife on him in the middle of the party. Luckily for him—and me—Monroe had made sure I woke up in my shitty apartment this morning, rather than a prison cell. Now, all I had to do was search “Pikestown crazy girlfriend” on ViewTube, and I could relive the entire humiliating scenario in startling clarity, as could the rest of the student body—and the world. I was officially the poster child for insane bunny boilers. Brilliant. What a time to be alive.

“I would have stabbed him. Then those assholes—” Cassie nodded toward the truck pulling away from the pump—“wouldn’t be laughing.”

“No shit,” Monroe mumbled. “Cass, you would be in jail for murder.”

If ever anyone was going to physically maim a boyfriend, it was Cassie. A few months ago, she’d all but run over a girl her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Rogue Van de Kut, had allegedly kissed. Literally, drove her Honda onto the dorm lawn and “nudged” the girl with her bumper. She told the dean it was an accident. How the hell she’d gotten away with that lie, I’d never know.

I stared at the pump as Cassie pulled up beside it and clicked the handbrake. This was much more my style of retribution. Calculated, rational, painful…

“This will hurt Brent more than a stab wound,” I said. “Trust me.” With a lot less risk of hard time.

“I’m an instant gratification kind of girl.” Cassie shrugged, popped the trunk, then threw open her door. “I’m going to buy gum and pay for the gas.” Of course, she wasn’t going to pump gas. She might chip a candy-floss-pink nail.

Monroe got out of the car, and I followed, giving her a once-over as I opened the trunk. She looked ridiculous in the long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans she’d insisted on wearing.

“You look like a cat burglar off Wish.” I took the empty gas tanks and dropped them onto the oil-stained concrete.

She unhooked the pump and shoved the nozzle into one of the cans. “I look hot.”

“As in sweaty? Yes. Very.” She must have been dying in that heat.

She flipped me off as gas glugged into the empty metal. “It’s my work attire.” In high school, Monroe had survived, like many in our hometown of Dayton, by stealing. Cars specifically.

“We’re not boosting his car…” Not like I hadn’t already considered it. I definitely could have done with the money, but we’d need someone shady to sell it to. With the new, crime-free leaf she’d turned over, Monroe didn’t know anyone here in Pikestown.

Besides, if I ever got desperate enough to steal a car, there were far less conspicuous ones, whose owner I hadn’t threatened with bodily harm, on video, less than twelve hours before. So, no, I wouldn’t be profiting off Brent’s beloved car, but I was going to torch it the same way he’d torched whatever sliver of trust I’d still had in men.

Just as I flipped the lid off the other canister, a shadow fell over me.

“What are you setting fire to now, pyro?”

My stomach bottomed out at the sound of that deep, achingly familiar voice. A voice I hadn’t heard for a year and a half.

By design, I hadn’t spoken to, or come face-to-face with, Wolf Brookes since we’d broken up—a miracle considering we came from the same hometown, went to the same college, and that he was best friends with Monroe’s fiancé.

My heart clenched in my chest, reminding me of its old wounds. Compared to those scars, Brent’s betrayal was nothing more than a scratch. A scratch Wolf was apparently there to rub salt into.

“Nothing,” Monroe said, her gaze briefly darting to me before it went back to Wolf.

I hated that she still worried about me being around him after all this time. That she knew I was so weak. Bracing my fragile heart, I turned toward the tall, dark, tattooed apparition of past regrets.

I took in his messy, dark hair, those deep-blue eyes that always seemed to see too much, and the dimple that sank into his cheek—when he smiled, another one mirrored it on the other side. I hadn’t seen him up close since the day I’d asked him for a break. Was it too much to hope that he’d magically become ugly? Or lost the ridiculous amount of muscle that had somehow, against the laws of physics, grown bigger? The material of the faded band T-shirt he’d had since high school was stretched so tight across his chest, it looked like it would rip open at any second. Wolf Brookes was still the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen, and I despised myself for thinking it. I’d always thought that my attraction to him had been more than skin deep, that we’d had this connection… But there I was, hating him while wanting him. I was no better than the airheaded girls who’d always fawned over him.

“Come on.” He nodded toward the tanks at our feet. “What are you torching, Monroe?” Talking to her like I wasn’t even there. As though I were as inconsequential as I wished he could be to me.

“Nothing. Jade’s Jeep ran out of gas.”

My spine tensed when she mentioned my name. I didn’t want him to look at me.

His massive arms crossed his even more massive chest, and he flashed her a disbelieving smile. “Bullshit.”

“Fine.” The pump in Monroe’s hand clicked, and she put it back. “We’re torching a car. Happy?”

Glaring at her, I capped the canisters. The last thing I wanted was Wolf knowing my business.

When I went to lift the heavy tank, I swear my back popped right before it dropped to the ground with a clang.

“Women…” Wolf reached for the tank at my feet, his rough fingers brushing mine when he picked it up. I hated that he acted like I didn’t exist, even though I’d spent over a year doing the exact same thing to him.

When he turned away from me without a backward glance, that sense of worthlessness I’d been feeling since Brent’s actions last night grew, breaking through the bedrock I’d laid on top of my buried emotions. Fuck Brent. And fuck Wolf.

I glared after him as he bicep curled both tanks into Cassie’s open trunk. His sleeves strained beneath his stupid, muscular arms, and I wanted to shout at him, “Just buy a bigger shirt!”

Instead, I went to the rear door of Cassie’s car and got in. I’d rather sit in a sweatbox than give Wolf any more space in my mind.

“It was good to see you, Wolf,” Monroe called, before ducking into the passenger seat.

I clicked my seatbelt into place, then crossed my arms over my chest. “It was good to see you, Wolf,” I said in a high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like Monroe.

I was one hundred percent being petty. Monroe and Wolf had been neighbors their whole lives, but surely she was violating some kind of girl code.

Monroe turned in the seat. One red brow lifted. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Mature.” She faced the front again just as Cassie opened the door and slid behind the wheel.

Cassie’s gaze darted from me in the back seat to Monroe beside her. “Was that Wolf Brookes I just saw?”

“Yeah, he was just saying, ‘Hi,’” Monroe said.

Or coming to gloat. I was sure he’d heard about my attempted murder of Brent. If not, it was convenient timing.

When Wolf’s old silver Chevy pickup reversed out of a spot across the lot, I noticed Bellamy, one of Wolf’s friends from back home, sitting in the driver’s seat. They were probably up to some bullshit. Stealing or dealing, like they always had. I’d heard Wolf was back into that stuff.

“Well, he can fuck off.” Cassie cranked the engine. At least someone had my back.

I knew I was being unfair to Monroe, but seeing Wolf that day, of all days, had me feeling raw. In a weird way, though, it reminded me that I would be okay.

Brent had broken my heart, but I’d survived Wolf’s ripping it out. Granted, I’d cracked my own ribs and held my chest open for him.

Wolf’s truck pulled onto the street, leaving a cloud of dark exhaust. A niggling sadness washed over me as I watched him disappear. At one time, Wolf had been my home, my safe harbor, my everything. In my darkest hour, his tattooed arms had felt like the only thing holding me together. We had been bonded in ways I could barely explain.

I used to think we would always find our way back to each other. Back when I couldn’t have fathomed the amount of damage a person could do to another.

Closing my eyes, I fought the knot in my chest and focused on my breathing. “My mind is calm,” I whispered. “Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

That was a good one. Wolf had caused me plenty of pain, and he’d definitely been my weakness.

“You and those damn affirmations,” Monroe mumbled.

Those affirmations had become so habitual that I’d almost forgotten it was Wolf who’d introduced me to them in the first place. His mom had used them to help her accept that she was dying. So, when I had felt like I was breaking, he started giving them to me in little notes, thinking they might help. In a messed-up way, those stupid little quotes were all I had left of him.

“You know what’s better than hippy positivity?” Cassie said, ramming the car into gear. “Setting shit on fire.”

That was the truth. What I needed to do was leave all thoughts of Wolf Brookes there, at that gas station, focus on setting my ex-boyfriend’s car on fire, getting revenge, and feeling better about my crappy life.

A few minutes later, we turned onto Brent’s dead-end street, and Monroe looked over her shoulder. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“If we get caught, you might go to jail for arson. Your parents…”

In my anger, I hadn’t really considered all the ins and outs. With my dad sick, the only thing standing between my parents and homelessness was the small amount of money I managed to contribute each month. It was a constant weight on my shoulders, and one Brent had known all about. Yet, he’d still cheated…

“I’m burning that car.” This was for me. The first thing I’d done for myself in a long time. “If you guys want out, though, I understand.”

“No!” Cassie said. “I want to burn shit.”

“You know I’ve always got your back.” Monroe turned to the front again. “That’s why I’m double-checking.”

Cassie slowed to a stop across from Brent’s house, with its grime-covered windows and random couch on the overgrown lawn. “You have got to be kidding.” She pointed toward Brent’s drive, where his dark-green Challenger was parked.

It took me a second to process the sight of Wolf standing beside the driver’s door—the driver’s door with a smashed window. He popped the lock just like I’d seen him do a hundred times, to a hundred other cars.

“Oh, fuck no.” I threw open the door. Not that car. That car was mine.

Wolf slipped behind the wheel, which meant I only had seconds.

“What’s got you so pissy, Jade?” Bellamy’s voice drifted across the street.

I turned, annoyed at the sight of his smirking face leaning out of the driver’s side of Wolf’s truck. The engine was running, and I knew he’d be ready to flee the second Wolf got that car started.

Flipping him a bird, I stormed forward. I couldn’t even shout at the prick, or I might wake someone from their hangover and ruin my whole plan. Well, he was already ruining my whole plan.

Monroe never mentioned Brent’s name, but Wolf must have put two and two together. Most likely thanks to a certain video and my penchant for rage-arson. It pissed me off that he knew me that well.

The Challenger’s engine roared to life before I’d even made it up the drive, the sound breaking through the Sunday morning quiet. Screw Wolf and his superhuman hot-wiring skills. And screw me for finding it so hot. Bad boys were so high school. I was supposed to be older and wiser now…mature.

“Wolf,” I practically growled his name as I came to a stop beside the shattered window.

His gaze met mine, and my heart stuttered in my chest. Time seemed to pause, an age of unspoken feelings pinging between us. At least until he broke the trance by ramming the stick into reverse.

“Don’t you dare!”

The rumble of Wolf’s truck speeding off sounded, and a slight smile crept over his lips. “Really wish I had time to chat, but…” He gripped the passenger headrest. The tendons in his tattooed neck popped when he turned to look through the back windshield. Tires screeched, and the scent of burning rubber filled the air before he backed out of the driveway, taking out a row of trash cans in the process. Well, if anyone had been asleep before, they weren’t now.

The car sped off, fishtailing halfway down the road, and I took off toward Cassie’s Honda, my anger bubbling over when I threw myself in the backseat. “Follow him!”

The engine screamed like a yowling cat when she floored the accelerator to catch up.

“Damn, he hot-wired that thing fast,” she said, an air of admiration in her voice.

I wanted to tell her that crap was a trap, but she was already a lost cause where deviants and bad boys were concerned.

She swerved around another string of overturned garbage cans—probably Wolf’s doing. “Does this mean we don’t get to set it on fire?”

“You can. If you can catch him…” Monroe said.

I knew she thought that was unlikely, but I was full of anger and determined as hell.

I leaned between the front seats, staring at the Challenger winding through the dilapidated back roads ahead of us. “Oh, we’re burning it.”

Wolf would try to sell it—a car he never would have touched if it weren’t for the fact that I wanted it. He just had to profit from my misery.

Cassie hooked a right at the crooked stop sign, barely able to keep up in her tiny car.

“Drive faster, Cassie!” I shouted.

“I can’t get another ticket!”

She wasn’t looking at me, but I deadpanned the rearview anyway. “If a cop passes us, who do you think they’re pulling over? Us, or the speeding Challenger with the smashed-out window and a walking rap sheet behind the wheel?” I glanced at Monroe. “What’s he on now? Three, four arrests?”

Monroe snorted. “As if the Pikestown cops will care. He’s their beloved number thirteen.”

Bitterness tinged the back of my throat at that truth. Wolf Brookes was the best football player Pikestown had seen in years and their best chance of getting their team into the conference championship.

The Challenger disappeared around a pine tree-lined bend. When Cassie rounded the same corner a few seconds later, it had vanished. Just gone. Of course he’d lost us. He was used to losing the police, for God’s sake. Three girls in a ratty Honda were nothing.

Gravel crunched under tires when Cassie pulled onto the shoulder. She glanced around her tattered headrest, an apologetic look on her face. “I mean, Brent still lost his car, right?”

“It’s not the same.”

He hadn’t looked out of his window and cried at the sight of it in flames on his drive. God, how I’d wanted those tears. What it came down to was: I hadn’t been the one to screw him over.

“And now, Wolf-fucking-Brookes is going to profit from my shitty ex.”

“You weren’t going to profit when you torched it,” Monroe said.

I dropped my forehead against her seat. “You know he only did that to spite me.”

She let out a breath. “I’m sorry I told him.”

“It’s okay.”

I was disappointed, but there was a tiny part of me that delighted in the fact that I clearly still bothered Wolf in some way. I might have ignored him, but he couldn’t ignore me, it seemed. He couldn’t just go home and forget all about me… He wasn’t indifferent.

Still, the thought of him getting a fat wad of cash while I’d had to sell my morals and dignity just to survive these past few months enraged me.

No, that Challenger was supposed to be mine. To steal, to burn, to cover in damn glitter if I wanted to… If I couldn’t have my revenge bonfire, then I was getting that money.

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