Second Chance Hero (14 page)

            “I know that. But he’s my son, and
you’re with somebody.”

            I should have known that would be said
at some point. That I must be enjoying the attention from two men, and I’m
messing them around.

            “You bring out the worst in each other,
Jen.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “When you were kids, as long as you were
together you were perfect. If he moved, you moved. If you moved, he moved. It
was an incredible thing to see at such a young age.” She scrapes her long
blonde hair into a ponytail, “You would challenge each other, push each other.
He was selfless because you were, and you were determined because he was.”

            I cover my mouth with my hand.

I didn’t realise. Deacon and I might be messing
about with each other but everyone else is suffering because of us, too. Our
parents who once watched us spend every day together, are now watching us at
each other’s throats, the tension palpable.

            “But now,” she continues, “He’s selfish
and possessive. That’s what the fight was about, Deacon didn’t want Bradley
near you. And you are lying. To your parents, to your boyfriend and to yourself
Jen and you can't keep shutting people out and hiding in here. That’s not the
Jenna I know.”

            I watch, speechless as she washes her
hands and leaves the shop.

            Of course she’s right; people in this
town might have an innate drive to be part of everyone’s business, but everyone
bats for both teams and gives a perspective otherwise ignored. I give up on
baking and lean over the counter, remembering when Deacon and I were everything
good about one another.

            We would always challenge each other. I
would always bet him to finish an essay before me, rewarding him with lemon
cupcakes when he got the work done. And there have been hundreds of times
Deacon has pushed me to succeed; learning to surf my first wave was a bet that
I couldn't stay up for longer than him.

            I let myself cry again, because I want
my best friend back. I want the man I’ve been in love with since before I can
remember to challenge me to ride a wave, or bake him the perfect lemon drizzle
cake. I don't want to hurt him, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t sacrifice to
have my Red back.

~

“I have never in my life
needed
a drink
before.” I say pouring a glass of wine for Jade, Grace and I as we get ready
for tonight in my bedroom.

“Nobody needs a drink, Jen. Don't drink to be numb.”

“I don't want to talk about it tonight, okay? All I
want is one night where my love life is not the topic of conversation on
everyone’s lips.”

“Deal. Marie and Amber will be there so there won't
be any room to talk about love. They’re both completely against it.”

“Maybe they’re on to something.”

We laugh and I drink my wine like there’s no
tomorrow. I can't decide what to wear, so I leave the choosing down to Jade and
Grace while I continue with the wine. I see the looks from them, but cranking
up Avicii has them in the mood with me and before I know it, I’m wearing an
indecently short dress of Grace’s with my long hair falling in waves down my
back and my eyes are thick with mascara. I get away with my flats; I’ve always
been vertically challenged, so it makes me feel uncomfortable when I’m suddenly
taller than most people in the clubs. Sticking to flats is a sure way that I go
out feeling confident, and come home with my ankles intact.

“Ready?” Grace asks, checking her make-up for the
tenth time since the new song started.

“I’m so ready. Can't we skip the food and go
straight to the club?” I ask, pouring the last of another bottle of wine in our
glasses.

“Girls?” Mum pokes her head around the door and I
see the emotion hit her when she gets a look at our tipsy state.

Our house was always the place to get ready when we
were younger; mainly because we were guaranteed a lift to wherever we were
going, or because my parent’s room is on the other side of the house with its
own bathroom. So we could play music as loud as we wanted and hog the bathroom.

“You look sixteen again.” Mum dabs the corners of
her eyes with her thumbs.

I’ve been avoiding her all day, out of sheer
embarrassment because she knows what I did in Deacon’s garden on Tuesday. She
hasn’t said anything, but I can't bear to be near her in case she does. If one
more person asks me what’s going on, I’ll scream.

“We weren’t drinking at sixteen, and I think the
dresses were a bit longer,” Jade says before turning to Grace, “Dad’s orders.
If it didn’t touch your knees you couldn't go out. Senoritas have class.”

I hug Mum as a tear of happiness trickles down her
eye; I’m not avoiding her, just avoiding the conversation. I love my mum, she’s
always been my best friend. And I’d love to talk to her about my issues, if the
man she sees as a son wasn’t involved.

“Daddy said do you want a lift into Foster?”

Bingo.

“Is Daddy okay to drive?” I ask both out of
curiosity if he’s had a glass of whiskey yet, and because his knee is starting
to play up.

“I think he’ll get Jonas to take you, but accept the
offer. He wants to feel needed.”

“A lift sounds great.” Grace says, checking her
make-up. Again.

I’m glad I get the front seat, winning out over the
girlfriend and the big sister. Being the baby of the family has its perks when
it saves me from being squashed in the back of Jonas’ Fiat Punto.

“Where you off to?” He asks looking in his mirror at
Grace who is looking a little too drunk to be going out. It’s only half nine.

“Pizza, pub, club.” Jade says swaying to the music,
“In that order.”

“I’ll make sure Grace has loads of carbs.” I whisper
to Jonas his face softens in relief.

“I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

“Saving money on a taxi? Yes, I can handle you
picking us up.” Jade sings.

 “I’ve got my own personal taxi.” Grace leans
forward and rests her head on my headrest, looking at Jonas.

“Seeing as you’ve got your own car, that’s not
true.”

Grace pouts and falls back in her seat.

When we get to the restaurant I pass on the pizza
and have some salad from the bar. There’s no way I’ll be dancing and drinking
later if I’m full of dough.

I order a bottle of wine and share it with Jade,
watering Grace’s down so she’ll sober up, before she cuts our night short.

Deacon

My phone rings from the bedroom as I strip for the
shower. I’ve been helping Mum out all afternoon, doing some odd jobs around the
house; some things that haven’t been done since Dad died. I sanded down the
front door so it closes easily, repainted the skirting in the hallway and put
together a cabinet she bought years ago. She persuaded me to stay for dinner,
and I could tell she desperately wanted to talk about Jenna, but decided to
play it safe and not question me. I wanted to quiz her on the ‘talk’ they had
earlier, but I figured I’d get the truth from Jenna.

I walk through the top floor of the house and look
at my phone. It’s a number I don't recognise, and I don't normally answer them.
For some reason, tonight I do.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is that Mr. Reid? Of D R and Son?”

“Yes, speaking.” I balance the phone between my ear
and shoulder and continue undressing, waiting for the caller to continue.

“Great. I want to book some work.”

“At eleven thirty on a Friday night?”

There’s a long pause on the other line and I smile.

“Yes.”

“In that case, how can I help you, Miss...?”

“Names are an unnecessary detail, Mr. Reid.” And I
instantly realise what’s going on here. She should have stuck to shorter words.
The angel on the other end of the phone has been drinking.

“Indeed they are. So, you need work done?”

“Yes. But it’s a hard job. I’m not sure if you’d be up
to it.”

“I’m sure I can rise to the occasion.”

            “I don't know.” She says, “It won't be
easy. I’ve got something hot and tight that needs seeing to.”

I’m instantly hard. It catches me off guard, and I
catch my breath.

“Hot and tight? That sounds like the perfect
combination to me.”

“Ah,” She whispers, “I think specialist tools might
be needed to relieve the tension.”

“Well I’ve got something big, hot and hard that might
do the trick.”

“Mmm.” She moans and I feel it in my groin.

“Where are you, Jenna?”

“Shit!” She curses, “Are you for real?”

“Very. Where are you?”

The line goes dead, and I’ve forgotten about my
shower as I pull on a pair of jeans that are slung over my banister and a
button up black shirt from my wardrobe. I dial Jonas’ number as I grab the keys
to the BMW.

“Yo.” He answers, “I’m not up for a repeat of
Monday.”

“Funny. Where’s Jenna?”

            “Uh...”

            “She just called me but the line cut
out.”

            “She’s out with the girls, I’m on my way
now.”

“Foster?” His silence answers my question and the
sneaky bastard did it on purpose. I’m grateful but I doubt his sister will be,
“I’ll meet you at Jack’s.”

I hang up and speed off the driveway, sending a
spray of gravel up behind me.

The queue outside the best club within a thirty mile
radius reaches right along the road, and I notice Jonas standing somewhere near
the back. I grab his elbow and pull him out of the line.

“Dude, now I got to go to the back again.”

I shake my head and pull him to the front of the
queue to the red rope separating the people waiting from the entrance of the
club.

“Hey, Blake,” I shake hands with one of bouncers and
the other instantly lifts the rope, “He’s with me.”

I nod towards Jonas and the bouncers hold the rope
just long enough for us to get through. The complaints from the awaiting guests
escape in a roar, but I ignore them and lead Jonas through the corridor.

“What are you, royalty in this place?” He asks,
laughing in excitement.

“No one ever taught you how to shave?” I reach for
the bush growing from his chin but he slaps my hand away, “I’ve done a few
favours for the guy who runs it. I can get in here whenever I want.”

He rolls his eyes, but I’m proud of my connections.
I worked here a few months back, after there was a fire in the back; we
repaired the damage, and I’ve renovated Jack Mass, the owner’s, kitchen and
bathroom.

“Mr. Deacon Reid!” I turn to find Jack approaching
us from behind, his arms spread wide for a bear hug. I’ve never really been a
bloke-hug-bloke kind of man, but I pat him on the back when he pulls me in.

“This is Jonas, childhood friend.” They shake hands.

“I didn’t know you were coming down tonight.” He
shrugs, “Saw you on the cams. You need a table?”

“I won't say no, if you’ve got a spare one.”

He laughs and steps in front of us. Jonas’ eyes
light up; he’s clearly not had specialist treatment before, but follows us into
the VIP area of the club. The place is heaving, bass pumping from every speaker
on the walls, lights streaming down from the ceiling and the DJ playing some
sort of remix. I nod my head to the music as we reach our table, a perfect view
of the entire club.

“The usual?” Jack asks, preparing to walk away.

“Just a couple of beers, thanks.”

He disappears and I look over at Jonas who is
dancing with glee along to the music.

“Play it cool, mate.” I laugh and he clears his
throat, composing himself.

“You could have just called her back.” He refers to
my ‘line went dead’ explanation.

“Obviously I couldn't.”

“Obviously.” We thank the waitress for the beers and
Jonas cracks them open, handing me one, “Don't hurt her, man. She’s been all
over the place since she came back.”

“I won't.”

And as soon I say it I spot her. On a dancefloor
full of people, I see her, because I see no one else; never have, never will.
She’s throwing shapes with the group of girls she’s with. I notice Jade and an
embarrassingly drunk Grace, with two other girls I’ve never seen before. Jenna
looks carefree, and she’s really having fun. It’s when someone dances straight
into her I notice what she’s wearing; a short, too short, green dress with her
hair flipping from one bare shoulder to the next as she dances. She’s still
wearing her trademark white plimsolls and I’m surprised she was let in. No I’m
not, Jack would pay the likes of Jenna to come here; she’d definitely attract
more customers.

“That’s embarrassing.” Jonas shakes his head and I
choke on a mouthful of beer as I watch Grace, dancing some sort of ritual,
flinging people around her in all directions.

The quaint little pixie has disappeared and has been
replaced by a drunken mess. The girls are laughing with her, and one I don't
recognise leans over to support her before handing her a glass of water. I
would say some serious carbs and a bed are what she needs now; she’s beyond
saving. Jonas springs off into a tangent of how she becomes some sort of
Godzilla when she drinks, and I listen as I watch Jenna, if we’re in the same
vicinity my eyes refuse to look anywhere else. It looks like a girls night is
what she needed; her incredible smile is on view as she enjoys her down time,
but even from here I can see her wobble on her feet, her eyes glassed over.
She’s covering it well, but I know she’s seeing double and is probably only
twirling to counteract the spinning in her head.

Something from the corner of my eye attracts my
attention and I notice a group of lads collected at the edge of the dancefloor
near the girls and they are outright staring at the goddess in green. I watch
the discussion between them before one of them breaks free from the crowd; he’s
short and stocky with a shaved head, and he’s heading straight for Jenna.

“Don't interfere,” Jonas grabs my forearm as I stand
up, “Let her handle it.”

“Not a chance.” I pull my arm away from him and step
down off the ledge.

I watch Jenna talking to Stocky Bloke and she laughs
at something he says, continuing to dance as he steps closer to her and puts
his hands on her hips. She pushes at his shoulders, trying to get some distance
but Jenna has always been small and although the man possesses no physical
strength whatsoever, she can't budge him as he moves her in time with him.
Precisely why she does need me to step in. I’m not interfering, I’m
intervening.

“Excuse me?” I tap him on the shoulder and watch
Jenna’s eyes widen in shock.

The man turns around, his eyes in line with my chest
and then cranes his head to look up at me.

“You mind stepping away from my girl?”

“She’s with you?!” He asks, his voice breaking. He
doesn’t know whether to run or piss his pants.

“Yeah and I’ll give you to the count of three to
fuck off.”

I don't even start to count before he disappears and
doesn’t risk a look back at Jenna as I glare at him as he walks away, and watch
him join his group. I smile as they discuss their options, either to start a
fight, or just drop it. I’m glad they choose the latter and disappear into the
back of the club somewhere.

“What are you doing here?” Jenna slurs and I look
back to her. She looks a lot worse up close and I almost wish I’d kept my
distance.

“Playing the superhero.”

She smacks me playfully on the arm and pulls me into
the swarm on the dancefloor until we’re in the middle and I look around,
checking that the other girls dispersed around us are okay. Jade waves and
Grace attempts to wink at me, so I shudder and turn back to Jenna. I take a
step back as I watch her dance. The girl’s got rhythm. And hips.

I reach for them before I think about what I’m doing
and pull her into me; she giggles as her body collides with mine, but we find
our rhythm and our hips move in time to a club remix of ‘
ain’t nobody’
.

Jenna stretches her hands out to my chest and I one,
raise her arm and spin her under mine. I catch a glimpse of the bottom of her
dress as she twirls and giggles. My body shivers in response to that sound, but
when I’ve composed myself and she stands facing me again, her palms pressed to
my chest to steady herself, I tug on the hem and pull her dress down. Jenna
curses and swats my hands away, but I’m happy. Until I see that my yanking
exposed more of her milky white and generous cleavage that no other man but me
should see.

I decide to sacrifice a little more leg and pull the
dress up, my thumbs brushing her skin as I yank on the silky material of the
dress.

“Hey!” She slaps my hands again but I’m satisfied
that her modesty is safe for now.

“You don't want anyone seeing what you were blessed
with in adulthood.” I raise my voice over the music.

“No.
You
don't.”

“You’re damn right I don't.” My voice is harsher
than I intended.

Someone bumps into my back and I look round to see
Jonas dancing with Grace, trying his best to control her dancing. It seems to
work, temporarily at least, and she settles into his arms.

“It was either this or watching you two at it like
teenagers!” He shouts.

Jenna laughs and I turn back to her as she loses her
balance and I wrap my arm around her waist. She looks up at me and we continue
to dance, Jenna as close to me as possible without actually being inside my
body. My leg is between hers and we’re locked together, my hands on her lower
back as I feel her heat through my jeans. She grips fistfuls of my shirt as I
pull her to me, making her feel what she does to me.

 “Where’s your phone?”

“Left it at home. Only brought my card.” She pulls
her dress down and I see the corner of her credit card peeking out of her bra. My
cock twitches against her stomach and she smirks as I reach for her dress again
and pull it up.

“Easy, Mr. Possessive.” She teases.

“Don't do that.”

She shrugs and grinds against my leg. I groan, my
body aching, the pounding of my blood through my veins louder in my ears than
the music. Her eyes light up when she feels me harden further between us, and
it fuels her to turn around and press her behind into my throbbing crotch.

“Jenna.” I grab her waist and move with her, the
silk of her dress sliding across my denim.

“Just feel it.”

I lean down, brush my lips across her neck and
whisper in her ear, “Believe me, I feel it. If you don't stop I’ll drag you to
the back and take you.”

Her eyes sparkle as she looks up at the same time
she rolls her hips and runs her tongue along her top lip.

“Is that a promise?”

I grab her wrists and turn her to face me, holding
her hands by her side as I crush my mouth to hers. She moans and sags against
me, opening her mouth; a direct invitation to my tongue and I accept, tasting
and savouring her. She brushes her tongue softly against mine and I wrap my
arms around her back, capturing her and allowing her to snake her hands into my
hair. She stops her dancing and we stand dead still in the centre of the
dancefloor, not caring about anything but devouring each other. I growl and
pull her flush against me, lifting her off her feet.