Cards of Love: Judgment Read online

  Judgment

  CARDS OF LOVE

  Jenika Snow

  Contents

  Judgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Cards of Love

  Excerpt: Say You Want it

  Say You Want It

  Chapter 1

  More by Jenika

  About the Author

  JUDGMENT (Cards of Love)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © October 2018 by Jenika Snow

  First E-book Publication: October 2018

  Cover created by: Lori Lovebooks Jackson

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  Line editor: Lea Ann Schafer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  I would kill for her.

  Harper

  The night Arsen killed my father was the first time I realized the lengths he’d go to keep me safe. He might have done it to protect me, but he was still convicted and locked away for seven years.

  And for that entire time I waited for him, knowing that once he was released, things needed to be said, the truth needed to be spoken.

  And that day was today.

  I loved him, but the look he gave me, the possessiveness and pent-up arousal reflected in his eyes … had me realizing one thing.

  Now more than ever, he wouldn’t let me go.

  Arsen

  I went to prison for Harper, and I’d do it all over again to make sure she was safe. She was all I thought about the entire time I was behind bars, and it was her weekly visits that got me through the years, even if I tried pushing her away.

  But after seven years of being locked up, I was finally released … and I was going to make her mine.

  Warning: This is a short, dirty story about a hero who will go to any lengths to make sure the woman he loves is safe. With darker undertones and graphic scenes, there may be material some readers find offensive.

  Chapter One

  Harper

  He was from the “wrong side of the tracks.”

  Called a menace.

  A bad boy.

  Trouble.

  But I knew him as Arsen Gray.

  He was all these things and more, or so said the rumors.

  To me he’d always been the boy who’d stuck up for me at school, who made sure the other boys didn’t tease me, harass me. He was the only person who treated me like I wasn’t white trash, which is what I was called, and seen as in this fucking town.

  And now we were out of school, nineteen-year-olds still living in the same damn town.

  But the one thing he couldn’t help me with, the one thing he couldn’t protect me from, was the very man who lived under the same roof as me.

  My father.

  I could never tell Arsen about my home life, even if he probably suspected it was less than happy. I could never tell him about the verbal abuse, that every day things got worse, that I longed for my life to be different.

  It wasn’t Arsen who was supposed to protect me, but my father.

  Unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

  But he was the one who blamed me for my mother leaving, for the fact he’d lost his job, that he wasted what little money he did earn from unemployment on booze … for the fact that he was an alcoholic.

  Arsen didn’t know any of that because I hid it well, because I was ashamed to tell him that since my mother left, everything had gone to hell.

  Maybe he already knew? Maybe I was horrible at hiding my fears and worries, my embarrassment.

  Arsen Gray couldn’t save me from everything and everyone … until one day he did.

  * * *

  Arsen

  “I look like a fucking idiot,” I said as I stared at myself in the small mirror hanging from the bathroom door in the trailer I shared with my mom. The glass was chipped in the corner, a crack running the length of it. It was foggy from age and wear, but I could see myself clear enough regardless.

  I lifted my hand and adjusted the tie, feeling like the damn thing was suffocating me.

  “You look great,” Harper said and peeked her head to the side of my shoulder. She was so much smaller than my behemoth size. Standing a foot shorter than my six-foot-five frame, she was pixie-like compared to me.

  She was vulnerable and feminine, whereas I was a fucking beast and destructive.

  And I loved her more for it.

  But she didn’t know that. She might never fully grasp how much I cared for her, that I’d kill to make her smile, that I’d die to save her life.

  I was a piece of trash, living on the outskirts of town in a trailer that was falling apart. My mother, who tried her hardest, was more absent than she was home, working two jobs, then heading to the local bar to pick up random men. She’d stopped bringing them back to the trailer, thank fuck, and instead used her tips to rent one of the pay-per-hour motel rooms right beside the bar.

  I was pulled out of my thoughts when Harper moved in front of me and lifted her arms to adjust my tie.

  “Don’t ever say you look like an idiot.” She stared into my eyes. I felt my breath hitch.

  For such a low-down dirty bastard—or at least that’s what everyone called me—when it came to Harper, I was putty in her hands. She was my best friend, had been for years, and although my life was far different than hers, we were perfect together.

  But then I saw a change in her after her mother left. I knew that her father frequented the bar more times than he was home. I knew he’d lost his job, that they were struggling for money.

  But I knew all of this because of the groups I ran in. They knew all the dirty details of anyone who lived in town. And as I looked into Harper’s big blue eyes, I wanted to tell her that she could trust me with anything, that I’d always be there for her no matter what.

  She never had me over at her house, and I had a feeling it was because she was embarrassed by the state of her father, maybe by the way her home looked. But hell, we were currently standing in my mother’s twenty-year-old trailer, the curtains dingy and ripped, the scent of stale cigarette smoke from my mom lingering in the air.

  She had nothing to be embarrassed about, but I had a feeling she was.

  “I think if I did look like a fucking idiot, you still wouldn’t tell me.” When I saw her smile, my whole fucking body lit up. I wanted to lean down and kiss her, press her to the wall and have my body right up against hers.

  God, there was so much I wanted to do with her, but I kept myself in check.

  I knew she saw me as a protector, as a best friend. And I was those things. But I wanted to be more to her, for her. Maybe one day I’d get myself out of this shit hole and be deserving of her. Maybe I’d get this job and have two nickels to rub together, could provide for her, finally tell her that we were getting out of this little town and making something of
ourselves.

  I’d work to the bone to make sure her dreams came true.

  “No, I would tell you.” She grinned wider and smoothed her hands down the lapels of the secondhand suit I’d gotten at the thrift store.

  It had been twenty dollars, far more than I was comfortable spending on a damn outfit that I’d probably only wear this once. Working at Larry’s Mechanic Shop, I was trying to save anything and everything I made. This job could change everything.

  It wasn’t like many positions opened up in town, but if I could snag this bookkeeping job—one that was pretty fucking intimidating—at the local attorney’s office, one I wasn’t even qualified for, I could really start saving some money for us. Of course I’d still work at Larry’s on the side, because I was good with my hands and any extra I earned was better than what would be wasted. I wasn’t a suit-and-tie kind of guy. I was a grease-covered mechanic who just happened to be good with numbers.

  And I hoped that would work to my advantage today. I hoped the fact I kind of had my shit in order where numbers were concerned would be a tick in my favorable box.

  “Thank you again,” I said softly, my voice deep.

  “For what?” She stepped to the side and sat down on the dingy little bench.

  “For going out of your way and getting me this interview.” I felt like my skin was going to peel away from my bones, the suit was so damn restricting. Hell, I was a big motherfucker, with muscles and tattoos that made me look like a criminal. And I suppose I was.

  I’d stolen, gotten into fights, been reckless and vandalized. I wasn’t a good guy, not by any means, but when I was with Harper, I felt like I could be better.

  I wanted to be.

  “You deserve a chance just like anybody else. Neil would be an idiot for not hiring you, just saying.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t put in a good word for me, I wouldn’t even be having the interview.” I cleared my throat as emotion consumed me. “And I look like a schmuck,” I said again, deflecting how I was really feeling inside.

  Harper worked in the small coffee shop beside the attorney’s office. She spoke with him daily when he got his morning Danish and iced latte. They had a good friendship, and when he’d mentioned he needed some help, she’d suggested he give me a chance. Surprising the fuck out of me, he’d agreed.

  She’d done the hard part, and now I just had to do my best to not fuck this up.

  “You’ll do great.” She smiled and I believed her, because the way she said it, the way she looked at me gave me hope.

  Did she know how desperate I was for us to be together? To get out of this place? Even if she didn’t want me in the way I wanted her, I’d still follow her to the ends of the Earth. Even if she fell in love and started a family with somebody else— which would break my fucking heart and send me on a rampage—I’d still be beside her, making sure she was okay.

  I’d always be by her side.

  I’d always make sure she was protected.

  “Neil is really down-to-earth and sweet. Just be yourself and I know he’ll love you like I do.” She smiled again, and my heart flipped in my chest. Then she stood and grabbed her backpack. “I’ve got to head to work, or I’m going to be late.” She rose up and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I found myself closing my eyes like I did every time.

  My body was hard, my heart racing.

  “You got this,” she whispered beside my ear, and I felt a tightness in my spine. I curled my hands into fists at my sides, wanting so damn badly to wrap my hands around her and pull her in close.

  But she pulled away before I could grow a set of balls and touch her back.

  “Tell me all about the interview as soon as it’s done.” She grinned.

  “Abso-fucking- lutely.”

  She chuckled, and then I heard the trailer door shut, silence descending, suffocating me even more than this damn suit was.

  “You got this. Man the fuck up,” I said to myself and breathed out slowly. Because if I didn’t make this work, I was every bit the fucking loser that everyone thought I was.

  And for Harper, I wanted to be so much more.

  Chapter Two

  Harper

  I grabbed a rag off the counter and started washing dishes, the water having turned a dingy brown from the pile of plates and cups that had been tossed in the sink. I heard my father coughing, the sound drowned out by the TV blaring. Clanks of bottles hitting each other pierced my head, and I closed my eyes, wishing I was somewhere else.

  I did this on more than one occasion, imagined myself in another world, in another life. I was someone else, with a perfect life where the darkness and despair was not able to touch me. And there would be one constant in this perfect life, this perfect world.

  Arsen.

  “Harper,” my father shouted, and I breathed out slowly.

  Ever since my mother left him five years prior—left us—his drinking had gotten out of control. His life had spiraled down to the very pits of hell. He’d never been a good man, not affectionate or attentive in any sense, but ever since she’d moved out, he’d changed for the worse.

  He was a drunken asshole who blamed me for every problem in life. I was the cause for my mother leaving.

  I wasn’t good enough.

  I was a shitty daughter.

  I drove the only person he loved away.

  Those were some of the nicer things he spouted off at me when he was drunk, which was now a daily occurrence. There had been so many times I wanted to confide in Arsen, to tell him about how shitty things had become. I wanted to beg him to leave with me, to just escape. But he had his mother, a life here. Although she was absent a lot of the time, I knew she did love him and he her.

  “Harper,” he shouted out again, his tone angry and slurred.

  I looked over my shoulder at him. He sat in his recliner, one that was now dingy and brown, the material fading on the arms, peeling up from use.

  “I fucking called your name, girl.” He looked over at me then, his eyes glassy and bloodshot, his face greasy from the lack of bathing. He’d been on a bender for the past three days. I was pretty sure the only liquid he’d consumed in that time was beer and liquor.

  “Yes?” I knew better than to snap my voice at him, even though I wanted to. The man I was looking at right now was a stranger, verbally abusive and on occasion smacking me around. Fighting back meant I got hit harder.

  I could see his emotions clear on his face. When he looked at me, he hated me. He saw the reminder of what he’d lost, the woman he loved gone because of me. I wasn’t his daughter, not anymore. I was an outlet for his frustration.

  Arsen.

  I closed my eyes and thought about the man I loved. I often thought about him, just thinking his name to give me strength. I wanted to be honest with him and tell him everything, let him hold me and tell me everything would be okay.

  But this wasn’t his problem, wasn’t his fight. He had his own uphill struggle, and he protected me enough. I didn’t want to be the girl who rushed to him every time something bad happened. I didn’t want my problems becoming his, which they would be because that’s the kind of man Arsen was. He put others above himself, especially me.

  And that’s why I was hopelessly in love with him.

  “Get me a fucking drink,” my father said, spitting out the words as if they were acid and he was trying to cover me in it.

  If I had the money, the means, I would’ve left this place long ago. As it was, I barely made enough to buy myself food, pay my cell bill, and put a little away in hopes that one day I’d be able to leave.

  I walked over to the fridge and opened it, one entire row lined with bottles and cans of beer. I grabbed two, closed the door, and walked over to him. Handing over the bottles without looking at him, I stared at the coffee table. It was littered with cigarette butts, trash, old food, and covered in dirt and grime. It didn’t matter how often I cleaned, how much I tried to wipe away my life, this was always what it looked like.
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  “What the hell is this?” he shouted, spit spraying and staring up at me as if I’d just committed a grievous crime.

  “What you asked for,” I said in a low voice, not wanting to look at him but knowing if I didn’t, he’d get even angrier.

  “I asked for a beer and you bring me two.”

  I breathed out slowly, not about to get into this with him. He was drunker than normal, had been consuming alcohol the entire day. He stank of booze, his skin greasy, the alcohol practically coming out of him as he sweated.

  Turning to head back into the kitchen, I was stopped as he grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh, the pain making me gasp.

  “You’re as stupid as you fucking look,” he spat and stood, pushing me back until I stumbled and grabbed onto the couch for support. He stood and faced me, throwing one of the bottles, the glass shattering, alcohol spraying along the wall and sliding to the floor.

  He was worse than he’d ever been, and I knew he was going to direct all his rage at me. I braced myself, knowing that I might not be able to hide this, hide the marks from Arsen.

  Maybe today was the day he’d finally know the truth.

  * * *

  Arsen

  I loosened the tie before pulling it all the way off. I climbed into my piece-of-shit rust-bucket truck and tossed the tie on the passenger seat. I sat there a moment. The interview had been pretty standard, my answers stiff and awkward. But the outcome had been damn incredible.