This was way different though.
Jessa was lingered in a past Blaine ran from. A past he wanted nothing more to do with. That life when he had thought he was going to do the right thing and help people. Being thrust into a world of corruption and violence left his heart chiseled into pieces. The only person that put it back together was Janey. Her little innocence made the job worth doing. If Blaine could take care of the bad guys, it would make it safer for her. Even though she didn’t look a thing like him, she was his baby. His girl. His princess. Yeah, her mother was a little off the deep end, but leaving Meghan meant leaving Janey. Hell, leaving Meghan meant losing Jessa too. There was no hiding that anymore. All those moments between them where it felt like something existed…
“Shit,” Blaine whispered.
He stood up and grabbed the coffee mug. He sipped the black coffee and looked over his shoulder.
Jessa was still sleeping.
It was just a one time thing. A one night thing. They let all those emotions boil over and fell into it together. She wanted to be fucked and Blaine wanted to fuck her. That’s all it was. They were hurt, angry, and needed relief. There was nothing wrong with that.
This was the exact reason why Blaine preferred to have more than one woman at the same time. So there was no confusion, no worries, nothing lingering. Better yet, it’s why he did all his business at the clubhouse. Never in his house. Christ, never in the house. In fact… Jessa was the first.
“Fuck,” he said and drank more coffee.
Under the sink, he had a bag of cell phones. He grabbed a random one and stood back up. Off the kitchen was a small room that had a desk and some random pictures on the wall. Blaine figured you could call it a den, whatever the hell that was. He opened the desk drawer and dug through, finding an old notebook. When the time had come for him to split the life of justice, he took a few phone numbers and memories with him.
One of those numbers was an old partner named Petey.
Blaine didn’t expect Petey to answer, but he did.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Blaine.”
There was silence. Lots of silence.
Yeah, Blaine had dumped the law to become an outlaw. Yeah, he had set fire to every bridge built and took off. But who would blame him after what had happened?
“Jesus Christ,” Petey said. “Blaine.”
“I’m still alive.”
“I hear that,” Petey said. “How… shit…”
“Don’t ask questions,” Blaine said. “You know I would call only if there was good reason.”
“I bet I can name the reason.”
“He’s out?”
“Yeah,” Petey said.
“He went after Jessa already. She…” Blaine looked over his shoulder again. “She contacted me. What the fuck happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Petey said.
“Why not? You realize what he…”
“Blaine. Vin’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yeah. He got tagged yesterday. Came out swinging too hard. Thought he could plant his feet right where he was before shit hit the fan.”
“How the hell do you know this?” Blaine asked.
“Christ, Blaine, you were the one that went off the edge, not me. I’m still a detective. I run undercover stings for the state. The second Vin’s name was brought up on release, I was personally on his tail. Thought about you, Blaine. You know? I hope you can find some kind of peace.”
“That will never happen,” Blaine said. “Thanks.”
He ended the call and broke the cell in half. He dropped it in the trash and stood there for a few seconds.
Vin is dead.
The man that took Blaine’s life from him was dead. Every night, for years, Blaine wondered what it would be like to kill Vin. How he’d do it. How slow he could go to torture the son of a bitch. Hell, part of him appreciated that Vin had been in prison because it meant he was generally safe.
Instead of fucking Jessa half the night he should have been on the street looking for Vin. To get revenge before someone else did.
Well, someone else got revenge.
Blaine turned and threw a fist, smashing his hand into the wall. The wall gave way with ease. As he pulled his hand out, the drywall ripped at his hand and knuckles, tearing him open. He ignored the blood and walked toward the bedroom.
He opened the door and had the idea to take out his gun and shoot at a wall. That would wake Jessa out of her post-sex slumber. He wasn’t a fucking hotel and this wasn’t a fucking relationship. She was lucky enough that she got to be in the house and got a piece of Blaine.
Blaine put his hand to the gun and then froze.
I fucking saw them…
The words rang fresh in Blaine’s memory. The fact that Jessa had been the first one to the house. To see…
He released his hold on the gun and kicked at the bed instead.
“Hey. Wake up.”
Jessa stirred and then popped up. The blankets fell from her body, exposing her breasts. The sight was better than anything Blaine could remember in the morning. Her tits were perky, creamy, her nipples perfectly round, defined, hard. Her left breast had a few marks from Blaine last night.