Home > Unfriend Me (Jobs from Hell #3)

Unfriend Me (Jobs from Hell #3)
Author: Marika Ray

1

 

 

Titus

 

“What the hell, Amelia?”

She climbed up into my truck after nearly wrenching my passenger door off the hinges, flashing bright pink underwear I most certainly did not need to see. Don’t get me wrong, the woman looked hot as hell and under different circumstances I would have lodged that picture away in the recesses of my brain to take out later when I could dissect it in the privacy of my own delusion. As it was, we weren’t on good terms, so perving over her underwear seemed inappropriate.

Her dark hair hung down her back, a few strands threaded through the hoop earrings she only wore when she went out for a night on the town. Considering she’d called me for a ride in the middle of the night instead of her best friends, the Hell Raisers as they liked to call themselves, spoke to trouble in paradise with her current boyfriend.

I was elated she’d called me. Despite the distance between us the last year or so, I’d always be there for her, and I was glad she remembered that little fact. We’d even carved our initials in one of the huge trees at the park off Main Street one year, sealing the deal on our forever friendship.

The door slammed shut and I blinked away any desire that might have shown on my face. The short skirt that ended just below the curve of her ass wasn’t for me, her best friend. Or maybe ex-best friend. We hadn’t really talked about our official status lately. Hell, we hadn’t really talked at all since Daire came around. The full breasts about to spill out of the tiny tank top weren’t on display for my gaze either. Amelia had always dressed well, a flair for tight, short, and trendy over comfort, but her natural inclination had taken a steeper dive since she met Daire.

“Don’t even ask, Titus,” Amelia snapped, clicking her seat belt into place and turning her head away from the window to study my ancient stereo components like they fascinated her.

I bit my tongue and turned the wheel to exit the parking lot. Just as I was about to give it some gas, I saw movement on the patio outside the bar. Neon lights in the windows illuminated the outline of a guy who looked suspiciously like Daire, Amelia’s boyfriend. The guy was a hulking beast and he used his size to his advantage.

I’d met Daire almost a year ago when I worked a job in San Jose. He was a contractor turned real estate developer, working his way up from tiny side jobs to larger retail buildings. He’d seemed decent enough at the time, which was why I introduced him to Amelia to discuss opening a bed-and-breakfast in Auburn Hill. Unfortunately, I discovered that while Daire was a decent enough guy to other men, put him in the same room with a woman and he became a shark. A predator who thought women were to be hunted and toyed with for sport. He was a misogynist asshole.

My headlights hit the patio, a spotlight for Daire in his all-black attire. His leather-clad arm slithered around some blond woman’s neck, pulling her in to kiss her temple while he grabbed a handful of breast, out in the open where anyone could see them. Sick bastard had a little smile on his face watching me drive away. I clenched my jaw and shot a look at Amelia. Her head was still aimed at the console of my truck, her hair a curtain protecting her from the sight of her boyfriend fondling another woman right in front of her. Somehow I figured this wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with this type of bullshit from the guy who was supposed to care about her more than anyone else.

Hitting the accelerator a bit harder than I should have, I tore out of the parking lot, a red haze coating the dark sky.

Motherfucker.

I was going to kill that asshole for doing this to Amelia.

“Have you dropped that loser yet?” I asked through my clenched jaw, hoping tonight would signal the tail end of this relationship fraught with problems.

I heard her long inhale through her nose, to give her patience or to keep from crying, I couldn’t tell.

“It’s not that easy, T.”

Her thin words only made me want to snap my steering wheel in half. My knuckles burned from the grip I couldn’t seem to loosen. With a glance out of the corner of my eye, Amelia appeared to retreat back into herself as she sat there next to me, a reaction that never would have happened before she met Daire. Amelia had always been bigger than life and sassier than any woman I’d ever met. What was it about this guy that made her small? Made her shrink into a helpless version of herself?

“It can be that easy. Just rip the Band-Aid, Lia,” I begged her, resorting to the nickname I’d used our whole lives. Back before Daire created a chasm between us that no amount of cajoling on my part could fix.

Amelia snorted, and while that wasn’t the retort I wanted, at least it showed some attitude. Some semblance of the backbone I’d always thought was lined with steel. The lights from the deserted highway flashed through the windshield as I put distance between us and that damn bar. Amelia deserved to go to five-star restaurants, not seedy bars outside of map-dot towns. He’d probably driven them there on the back of his Harley without a single thought about her short skirt or carefully flat-ironed hair.

“Amelia,” I began again.

“Enough, Jackson!” she cut me off, the use of my last name a purposeful verbal jab.

I let it go, on unfamiliar ground now that Amelia and I had drifted apart. A few years ago, I could have joked her out of her bad mood in a matter of ten minutes. This new Amelia seemed broken down and bone-tired, unable to grasp on to the lifeline I kept throwing her way. I nearly bit a hole in my lip keeping my mouth shut. Instead, I stewed on what to do. And I would do something. Mark my words.

All too soon, I pulled into the driveway of Hell Hotel back in Auburn Hill, where Amelia worked and lived as the manager. I kept the truck running and spun to face her. She stared out my windshield, catatonic.

“Lia. Are you okay?” I asked softly, like I would an injured animal.

She flinched, but still her eyes stayed dry. The girl was practically famous for never crying. Claimed her tear ducts were broken. My theory was that Amelia simply channeled all her emotions into anger instead of sadness. Her anger bucket overflowed on a daily basis, causing a slow leak of sassiness that accompanied her wherever she went. She backed down to no one, which was why this thing with Daire had me spooked.

She finally turned her head to me, giving me her eyes for the first time that night. She was so fucking beautiful. Anger spiked in my chest again at that asshole for treating her like she didn’t matter.

“I’ll be okay, T. Thanks for picking me up.” She leaned over and pulled me into a hug.

My hand found her back, her bare skin a temptation I couldn’t indulge in. She hadn’t hugged me in almost a year and I wouldn’t risk making her pull away. All too quickly, she let go and grabbed for the door handle.

“Stop.” I gritted my teeth and slid out the door, willing my body to ignore the desire that coursed through it from innocently touching her. She needed a friend right now.

I came around the hood and opened her door, helping her down. She flicked glances at me, trying to figure me out and it cut deep that she didn’t know what to do with a guy holding her door or making sure she got home safely. I clenched a fist and promised myself it could connect with Daire’s face later. She wobbled away from me on her high heels, that damn skirt inching up with each step. She kept tugging it down, probably aware of a draft in sensitive areas. My eyeballs couldn’t seem to tear themselves away from the sight. I waited until she got inside the hotel before I got back in my truck and headed home.

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