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Back Losers: Part I Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Table of Contents
  2. Content Note
  3. A Note From The Author
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. Acknowledgements
  57. Also By Harley Laroux
  58. About The Author

I didn’t know what it meant — for her, or for us. Time and distance hadn’t kept us from being pulled back together again, but for what? This was the woman we weren’t meant to have, whose life plans were going to take her away from us again.

Vincent claimed her showing up again was a “sign,” but a sign of what, I truly didn’t know.

35

35

Jessica

The Mustang’s interior was pristine as I slid onto the leather passenger seat. It smelled like Manson inside — that distinctly dark, spiced chocolate scent I’d come to know as his.

“Any preference on music?” he said. He cranked the engine and the Mustang roared to life, the entire car trembling before it settled. Almost everything inside looked original, except for the speakers, radio, and the thick purple bars that extended around the interior like a cage. I recognized them as similar to the ones in Vincent’s car, and I wondered if Manson had cuffs dangling from his too.

“Surprise me,” I said, watching as he flicked through a playlist on his phone while the car idled. He picked a song and adjusted the volume, a hauntingly ethereal voice coming from the speakers.

“I have to let the car warm up before we leave,” he said. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

We sat in silence, the engine quieting slightly as we waited. I was so tired; my muscles were weak with exhaustion. But the clothing Jason had put me in was warm and cozy, swaddling me in his scent.

Part of me didn’t want to leave. Up in Jason’s bedroom, I’d been tempted to collapse back into bed, pull Jason and Manson close and demand Lucas snuggle up too. Lying there with them had felt so comfortable, so normal. Like I was meant to be there.

I cleared my throat, unable to bear the silence any longer. “When did you get the Mustang?”

“About a year ago,” he said. “She’d been sitting on someone’s property for years and needed a lot of work.” He glanced over at me. “But she was worth the effort.”

“She’s beautiful,” I said. He looked down and away, but not quick enough to hide his smile. I didn’t know shit about cars, but I knew a nice one when I saw it. “Does she have a name?”

“Name?” His brow furrowed for a moment. “No, I…I’ve never been into naming inanimate objects. It’s not good to get attached to possessions.”

He put the car into gear, backing out of the garage. He pulled out of the yard onto the dirt road, parking for a moment while he closed and locked the gate. We bumped slowly along the dirt before we turned onto Route 15, the engine growling aggressively as Manson picked up speed.