The Jaded: Reclaim Me Part 1

Reclaim Me.

The Jades Series.

Alex Grayson.

DEDICATION.

I dedicate this book to the one woman that meant the most to me in this world, my mom. Mama, even though you are no longer here, you are never forgotten. You're with me everywhere I go. Until we meet again...

Book Description.

Enduring the ultimate betrayal on her eighteenth birthday by the one person she loves most in the world, Mia Walker is no longer the innocent, sweet, young woman she used to be. She is now cold and hard, letting no one get close to her heart, except family.

Mackai (Mac) Weston sees the changes in Mia on a daily basis. He knows he is the reason Mia is now the way she is. Never given the chance to explain what really happened that night so long ago, Mac is determined to make Mia finally listen and reclaim what was always his.

When the truth finally comes out, danger shows its ugly face. There are people in Jaded Hollow that do not want Mac and Mia together. They are willing to do what ever it takes to keep them apart.

Will Mac be strong enough to overcome temptation, even when the odds are against him? Will Mia forgive Mac when she realizes things weren't what they seemed ten years ago?.

Chapter One.

MIA.

Her eyes...

For the love of all that's holy. Will this man ever leave me alone? This is the fifth time this week that Mac's been in Jaxon's pub, where I work. Doesn't he realize each time I see him it's like a knife is being jammed in my chest? Doesn't he know how hard it is for me? It's bad enough that I'm stuck in the same town as him. I try my best to avoid him as much as possible, but when he keeps coming into the bar, it's just not feasible. It's also hard to avoid him when he's close friends with my brother.

I'm used to only seeing him once, maybe twice, a week, and that's hard enough. This is the fifth time this week, and it makes me want to punch him in the b.a.l.l.s, crawl up his body and take a ride, and cry big, fat ugly tears. All at the same time. Sick? Yeah, I know.

He, Tessa, and I are the only ones that know what happened that night. It's the way I want it to stay. As much as he hurt me, I don't want to ruin Mac and Jaxon's friends.h.i.+p. And I know that if Jaxon found out what Mac did to me, he would go ballistic and kick Mac's a.s.s. I may hate Mac, but I still don't want him hurt. Well, maybe a little, but not to the extent that Jaxon would hurt him.

Jaxon is fiercely loyal and protective of his family. Just ask his fiancee's rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d ex-husband. Oh wait, you can't, because he's dead. Not by Jaxon's hands, but d.a.m.n near. Steven, AKA-rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d, pulled a gun on Jaxon and Bailey, but Mac got to him first. That's the one thing I am grateful to Mac for. He saved Jaxon and Bailey's life. Unfortunately, my sister, Anna, wasn't so lucky. She was caught up in the h.e.l.l-storm that was Steven. He and his friend kidnapped her and then used her body so much that it literally killed her.

Wiping the sad thoughts from my mind, I throw the rag I was using to clean the counter over my shoulder and drag my feet as I head towards Mac. As much as I hate to admit it, he is the s.e.xiest man I've ever seen. He always has been, and I suspect that he always will be.

His hair is dark brown and he wears it in a s.h.a.ggy style. His eyes, which are bright green, are intense as he watches me make my way over to him. I've noticed him watching me more and more lately. Not with just curiosity, but with desire. The heat that radiates from him as he looks at me is almost scorching. It unnerves me, and every time I catch him doing it, it makes me want to smack him in the face. He has no right to look at me like that. Not anymore. He lost that right long ago.

"What do you want?" I ask him bluntly when I'm standing in front of him.

Instead of answering, he just stares back at me with his beautiful eyes. They rake over my body from the waist up, stopping briefly at my chest, which causes his eyes to flare and my nipples to harden. I hate when he looks at me with such heat. I hate that the desire I see in his eyes can still affect me after all these years and what he did to me. And it most definitely affects me.

My body betrays me every time he looks at me the way he's looking at me right now. My heart flutters in my chest, and my limbs go weak. I feel my blood heat and my core become damp. I know that my face is flushed, giving away my reaction to his perusal of my body. A smirk appears on his face, and I want to reach over and smack the smug look right off. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"I'll take a beer, Pix. Whatever's on tap," his expression remains smug, as a d.a.m.n twinkle appears in his eye.

With my teeth clinched together and my hands gripping the counter, I reply, "Do not call me that. And you know d.a.m.n well that's not what I'm talking about. Why do you keep coming here?"

Placing one elbow on the bar and tapping his finger across his lips, he seems to contemplate my question. Seriously? It's a simple f.u.c.king question.

"You really want to know why I keep showing up here?" At my head jerk, he continues. "I'm sick and f.u.c.king tired of you giving me the cold shoulder. I'm tired of you looking at me like I'm the gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe. When I walk into a room, you do everything you can to avoid me. And when you can't, you lash out. It p.i.s.ses me off, and it's about time it stops." When he's done talking, the smirk on his face from a few moments ago is replaced with a hard look.

I stand there stunned, speechless at his words. How dare he come in here and act as if I'm doing something wrong. He has no right to be p.i.s.sed. He wasn't the one to have his heart ripped out of his chest. He wasn't the one that was left feeling like his whole world just crumbled at his feet. And he d.a.m.n sure wasn't the one to have his innocence ripped away from him in the darkest hour of his life.

"f.u.c.k you, Sheriff," I seethe at him. I'm so mad at the moment for his high-handedness that my whole body is shaking. "You don't get to come in here and tell me how to feel. You have no idea what I went through and no clue what I've suffered. Just stay the f.u.c.k away from me."

My breathing is heavy from the dark thoughts forming in my head. This is why I don't want to see him. I've put the pain of what he did to me, and what happened afterwards, in a small box in the back of my mind. When he's near, that box cracks open and it almost cripples me all over again.

I take the rag from my shoulder and start to turn away from him when he grabs my wrist to stop me. I glance down to his hand on my arm. "No," he says sharply, and I look back up. "You don't get to walk away from me anymore. It's been ten years, Mia. I know I've hurt you and I'm sorry, but this stops now. You never gave me the chance to explain back then. I didn't push because I knew you were hurting, but you're going to listen now."

I try to pull my arm away, but his grip is relentless. "Let me go, Mac," I tell him in a harsh whisper.

"No."

"Let me the f.u.c.k go." My voice gets louder, and I notice a couple of customers glancing our way. He must notice as well, because my arm is suddenly released.

"Have it your way for now, Pix, but know that this isn't over. You will listen to what I have to say," he says before taking a step away from the bar and turning on his heel.

That f.u.c.king nickname again. I used to love hearing him call me that. Now it just grates on my d.a.m.n nerves. He gave it to me when I was still a kid. He used to call me 'Pixie' because I was so small and I reminded him of a sweet little pixie. I can see that he's changed it to just 'Pix'. He hasn't called me Pixie in a long time. I hate that he's using a similar version, because it reminds me of what we used to have.

As I watch the man that used to be my entire world walk away, I take a shaky breath. As hurt as I was, and still am, by his actions ten years ago, my heart still recognizes him as mine. My body still craves his like no other. My eyes still stray to him any time he is in the same vicinity as me.

I rub the spot on my arm that he had a hold of. My skin still heated from his touch and the tingles lingering. After everything that's happened, I don't see how he can still affect me so. I've tried so hard over the years to push these feelings aside, but no matter what I do, they just won't go away.

I wouldn't consider myself a s.e.xpert, but I definitely have had my fair share of guys. And with each and every one, I try to compare them to Mac. Or what I believed it would be like to be with him. As teenagers, we never went all the way, just seriously heavy petting. No matter how much I begged and pushed Mac to take me, he never did. He wanted to wait until I was of legal age to claim me. He considered our two-year age difference significant and wanted me to be utterly sure I was ready and he was what I wanted.

What he never understood was, that I knew from the age of eleven that he was the one I wanted to marry someday. My schoolgirl fantasies always featured him. At first, it was a simple crush on my brother's friend. I was young, innocent, and oblivious to all things carnal. Once I reached p.u.b.erty and really started noticing boys, he enamored me. I had no idea why my body and heart felt strange around him. All I knew was that I wanted to be around him.

At thirteen, my fantasies started becoming more erotic. I had ideas flowing through my head that I picked up from the romance novels my mom had. I would sneak them into my room at night when everyone was asleep and picture myself in the heroine's spot and Mac as the hero.

I never hid the fact that I had a huge crush on him. He and everyone else knew. Mac never put me down for following him everywhere, but he also never let on that he liked me too; except for the lingering glances I would sometimes catch him giving me when he thought I wasn't looking.

It wasn't until I was fourteen and he was sixteen that everything changed. It was one of the happiest days of my life.

I'm pulled from my thoughts of the past when Andrew, my outrageous gay friend, puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulders, "Why the sad look, Mia Pia?"

I elbow him in the ribs to release his arm from around me.

"Nothing," I mutter as I turn to face him.

The first thing I see has me rolling my eyes. Standing directly in front of me is a hard wall of muscle covered by a bright pink s.h.i.+rt that reads 'I'm not gay, but my boyfriend is.' The thing about Andrew is that he is insanely hot and flamboyantly gay. He's well over six feet tall and packed tight with muscles, not overly bulky, just very defined. His hair, which is a chocolate brown, is s.h.a.ggy and in need of a cut. Andrew's signature is his ridiculously funny and obnoxious s.h.i.+rts. Every day it's something new, and every day they make you want to laugh.

"Been seeing a lot of Mac here lately. Wonder what his deal is?" Andrew asks, eyeing my reaction to his question.

We've been friends a long time, ever since his family moved to town twelve years ago. He knows that Mac and I used to date. He also knows something went down between the two of us to cause our break up. He just doesn't know what that something was. Andrew is another person that I'd worry about if he ever found out what Mac did.

Glancing down from Andrew to hide the pain and anger that I know reflects in my eyes, I mutter, "I have no idea, but the b.a.s.t.a.r.d needs to stay the h.e.l.l away from me."

"Mia," he says softly, tipping up my face with his finger. Reluctantly, I look up into his eyes and see sadness. "What happened between the two of you?"

Andrew is one of the sweetest guys I've ever known. Yes, he can be very intimidating with his tall, built frame and sometimes when pushed he has a very volatile temper. Despite his outward appearance and sometimes anger, he can be very sweet. We may like to pick on each other at times, but we do it out of love and affection. Even still, I won't tell him what happened. His temper would reach the boiling point if he knew.

Reaching up to grab his hand that he still has at my chin, I lay it against my cheek. "You know I don't talk about what happened, Andrew. Please, just leave it."

Brows puckered and finger grazing my cheek, Andrew watches me for a moment before replying, "Okay, Mia Pia. I'll leave it for now. I see the way you watch Mac when he's not looking. I also see the way his eyes follow you wherever you go. I hate seeing the two of you like that. Wanting something from the other, but too afraid to go for it." He drops his hand from my face and takes a step back before continuing. "I'm here when you want to talk."

I nod my head, knowing that talking to him about my issues with Mac will never happen. Dredging up the past will only make it hurt more. Even if I didn't worry about Andrew's reaction, it would be pointless to bring it up. It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make the pain less bearable. All it would do is bring it to the surface, make it fresh. I try every d.a.m.n day to forget that horrible time in my life. It's been ten f.u.c.king years, and I still struggle with it.

Maybe if I didn't live here in Jaded Hollow and run into Mac every so often, it would get easier, but I can't imagine ever leaving. Jaded Hollow is my home. I love it here, and I refuse to let Mac ruin it for me.

Picking up a notepad from the counter that has a list of supplies I need from the bas.e.m.e.nt, I make my way to the bar part.i.tion and step through it. Forcing myself to stop thinking about Mac and the past, I head towards the hallway. It's Friday night and the bar is always busy on Fridays. As I step down into the dark room, I pray that whatever Mac's playing at, he soon realizes that it's a mistake and everything goes back to the way it was; us both pretending the other doesn't exist.

Chapter Two.

Mac.

Her personality...

f.u.c.k! That woman is so G.o.dd.a.m.n frustrating. Slamming out of the door to Jaxon's Pub, I head towards my truck. I rake my fingers through my hair and have to force myself to not turn around, walk back inside, and shake some sense into Mia. It's been ten f.u.c.king years. Ten years of her ignoring me. Ten years of me watching her, pining after her.

I know that I hurt her all those years ago. I regret doing so, but she never gave me the chance to explain and tell my side of the story. h.e.l.l, there's a big chunk of the story that she doesn't even know. Yes, what she walked in on looked bad, but f.u.c.k, I thought it was her. I didn't realize until later, after the fact, that it wasn't. That's no excuse, but it is the truth.

Rage hits me at what Tessa put both Mia and me through. It's not completely Tessa's fault, I played my part, but if it wasn't for her and her actions then it never would have happened. Tessa knew how I felt about Mia. She just didn't care. Everything was all about Tessa and what she wanted. Crazy b.i.t.c.h had an obsession with me back then and did what she could to make sure Mia and I split up. She saw Mia as a threat and eliminated her. And Mia definitely was a threat; she was my whole world back then. I would have done anything, given anything, just to see one smile grace her beautiful face.

After the night of the s.h.i.+t storm that ruined both our lives and happiness, it was a rare sight to see Mia smile. When she did, they were never directed towards me. No, as soon as she caught my stare at one of her stunning smiles, her lips would drift down and turn into a scowl.

When I reach my truck, I yank open the door and climb inside. I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. From the time I was sixteen years old my life's mission was to make Mia happy. h.e.l.l, even before sixteen, it always brightened my day to see Mia and witness her special kind of light.

From the day that Jaxon and I became friends, Mia was always around. She followed us everywhere. You would think that two boys would hate having a little girl trailing after them, but we never minded. Jaxon was always close with his sisters, and I thought that Mia wanting to be around her big brother and his friend was sweet.

Over time, I knew that Mia developed a crush on me. Again, that didn't bother me. She was just a cute, innocent little girl with her long midnight black pig tails and rosy cheeks. I thought that eventually she would move onto her next big crush, but she never did. She held onto her infatuation with me, and eventually I developed one of my own for her. I always thought she was an adorable kid, the older she got and the more developed she became; the more I noticed her turning into a beautiful young woman. A young woman I was starting to realize I wanted for my own.

I was sixteen and she was fourteen when we were at the back of Jaxon's property swimming in the lake. She was wearing a light purple bikini. Nothing skimpy, but to my h.o.r.n.y teenage mind it was s.e.xy as f.u.c.k. It took everything I had to keep my hands off her, and my d.i.c.k from poking a tent out of my shorts.

Mia and I were sitting at the end of the dock dangling our feet in the water, while Jaxon and a couple of our friends, Nick and Kaylee, were playing around in the lake. We were alone, sitting in silence, watching the others goof around, when suddenly Mia reached over and kissed my cheek. Even though it was an innocent peck, I was still shocked at her bold move. It took me a minute to gather myself and look over at her. What I saw made me fall a little harder. She was peeking up at me with her deep blue eyes through her lashes. Her cheeks were flushed, and I could tell she was embarra.s.sed.

Reaching over, I grabbed her hand, flipped it over, and brought the inside of her wrist to my lips and kissed it. With her wrist still at my lips, I asked her, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Without hesitation, she nodded her head vigorously, which caused her small t.i.ts to jiggle a little. It took everything I had to keep my eyes on hers and not drift down.

Her reaction to my question made my lips tip up into a small smile and I threw my arm around her shoulders to bring her closer to me. She laid her head on my shoulder and I placed a kiss atop it.

It was there that I murmured, "You and me, baby." And I meant it. Once she became mine, I was never letting her go.

I felt her sigh and place her arm around my waist. When I looked down, a small smile was playing on her lips, and I knew that she was it for me. Yes, I was only sixteen, but deep down in my heart I knew that no one else would ever compare to her. Our relations.h.i.+p was just beginning, but there are times when you just feel that something is right and meant to be. And this was one of those times.

From that day forward, we were always together. Whether it was just the two of us, her hanging with Jaxon and me, or us with Jaxon and our friends. We were inseparable, and that was the way we liked it. Surprisingly, Jaxon was okay from the beginning with the change of my and Mia's relations.h.i.+p. He said he always knew it would happen eventually.

Bringing myself back to the present, I start my truck and pull out of the driveway, suddenly tired and wanting nothing more than to grab another beer, shower, and go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. The whole community is getting together for the annual Jaded Hollow Spring Carnival. As Sherriff of a town that generally doesn't have crime, it's my job to help set up in the courtyard in the center of town.

I pull into my driveway that leads to my century home on the outskirts of town. The small, white two-story house sits on 100 acres of land and has been in my family for generations. A few years ago, I had part of it renovated to update all the older wiring and plumbing. It now has a brand new kitchen and bathroom. When looking for new fixtures, appliances, and such, I stuck with an older century look. I didn't want to take away the 1900's look and feel of the house.

When I pull up to the house, the porch light is s.h.i.+ning bright, welcoming me home. The entire house is surrounded by a wraparound porch that has a swing attached to the ceiling and a couple of rocking chairs. Above the porch, in the front on the second level, is a balcony that has a door leading to the master bedroom. It's small, but big enough to hold a couple rocking chairs. I've envisioned Mia and me sitting up there sipping coffee dozens of times.

Getting out of my truck, I pocket my keys without locking the door. There is no need to lock doors in this town. We're a tight knit group. Most of the time we have no worries about burglary or crime.

I walk up the steps and open my front door and am immediately greeted by Loafer, my white and brown half-breed Pointer dog, putting her front paws on my lower stomach. I reach down to pat her sides. "Hey, baby girl. You hungry?" She answers by licking the side of my face.

Straightening back up, I make my way to the kitchen with Loafer excitedly trailing behind me. After pouring her a bowl of dried food and placing it on the floor, I open the fridge to get my much needed beer and take a healthy pull. Leaning back against the counter, I mindlessly watch Loafer chomping down on her food, her tail wagging the entire time.

After several minutes, I drain the last of my beer and toss the bottle in the trash. Leaving Loafer to finish her meal, I head to my bedroom and empty the contents of my pockets on the dresser. From there, I walk into the bathroom that's off from the bedroom and turn the shower on to warm up while I undress.

Once inside the shower, I face the showerhead and rest my arms on the wall in front of me. I bow my head and let the hot water beat down on my shoulders.

An image of Mia pops into my head, like so many other nights while I'm in the shower. In this image, she has her head thrown back, laughing at something I said. Her long midnight black hair is tossed back and almost reaching her a.s.s. I always loved her hair and she knew it. That's why two days after I royally screwed things up, she cut it off into her current pixie style, knowing that it would p.i.s.s me off. She never let it grow back out. Although I loved her longer hair, her current style is hot as f.u.c.k too.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block out the image. It's useless, as one scene turns into another.

We were lying in the back of my truck on a blanket gazing at the stars. My arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and she had her head on my naked chest. We were both quiet, just listening to the crickets and the leaves of the trees around us rustle.

After lying there in the quiet a few more minutes, I felt a small tentative kiss on my chest. My hand that was placed on her hip, gave it a squeeze in warning. Fifteen minutes before, we were in a heavy petting session when I called a halt to it. It was getting harder and harder to stop once we got going. Her kissing my chest was asking for trouble, and she knew it.

Instead of heeding my warning, Mia hiked her toned, smooth leg up over my hip and placed it right below my d.i.c.k. Once there, she slowly brought it up further and rubbed it against me.

In the shower, I swear I actually feel Mia rubbing her knee against me. Opening my eyes to try and dispel the image, I fight the pull to grab my c.o.c.k and stroke it, but I lose. I close my eyes again and fist my hard as f.u.c.king stone d.i.c.k slowly, knowing it's a losing battle to try and ignore it.