Bad Boy Xavier: Part 1
Автор
Jen Cooper
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Chapter 1
KATIE
The sound of glass shattering yanked Katie out of a half sleep. She shot up in bed, heart pounding, staring at her door as more crashes echoed from the hallway.
She groaned, already picturing her dad trashing the furniture again. The same furniture she’d just finished paying for. She flopped back onto her pillow, pressing it over her face like it could block out the mess of her life.
“I’m sorry! I’ll get your money!” Dad’s voice was desperate, shaky.
She frowned, glancing at the door. She swung her legs out of bed and grabbed a sweater, tugging it over her camisole.
“Yeah, sure,” she muttered. “Go ahead and promise more drug dealers that I’ll hand over our rent money. Of course I’ll work extra shifts. It’s not like I have homework or college applications or anything.”
A cold breeze brushed against her bare legs. She looked over and realized her window was wide open. She was sure she’d locked it before bed, but maybe she was just losing it.
She padded across the freezing floor, her socks all twisted, and peered outside.
The street was as dark and empty as always. She shut the window, shivering, and listened as the shouting and crashing kept going.
She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and leaned against the bedroom door, listening.
Usually, she let her dad handle his own messes. But tonight, the voices sounded rougher, meaner. Their neighbors already hated them, and the neighborhood watch guy was just waiting for a reason to get them kicked out.
One more complaint and they’d be out. Katie only had six months left in this dump. No way was she ending up homeless after all the years she’d spent busting her ass to keep them afloat.
“Please. I’m begging you. Don’t. I can get the money,” Dad pleaded.
She pressed her ear to the door, frowning. His voice was different. He actually sounded scared.
Her dad was a lot of things—an asshole, a coward, a thief, a liar, a junkie—but he never got scared. Not like this. He always had some slick answer, some way to talk himself out of trouble. He never begged.
Then she heard it. The click of a gun being cocked. Her eyes went wide.
“Kill him,” a deep, rough voice ordered.
She gasped and dove for her bedside table, shoving books aside and reaching for the forty-five she kept hidden underneath. Her fingers barely brushed the cold metal when a tattooed hand closed over hers, a rose inked on the back.
His skin was warm, and the heat of his body pressed against her, making her heart race. He was tall, his shadow swallowing up the room.
Her hand clenched tighter around the gun, refusing to let go even as he squeezed. He smelled like cigarettes and expensive cologne—a weird mix that made her throat go dry.
If I’m going to get threatened in my own bedroom, at least the guy smells good. Small blessings.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
She looked up at him.
He had green eyes and black hair pulled back into a messy bun. The collar of his leather jacket hid the tattoos she knew ran up his neck.
Xavier Clarke. The ultimate bad boy. Part of the family everyone in Frederick, Colorado, was terrified of.
The Clarkes ran everything. Nobody crossed them.
Of course, her dad had to get mixed up with them. She thought he’d stick to getting beat up by the small-time losers, but apparently he’d graduated to the big leagues. Fucking idiot. But she wasn’t about to let them scare her.
Xavier might be the most dangerous guy in town, but Katie wasn’t going down for her dad’s bullshit.
“Or what?” she snapped.
She thought she saw the corner of Xavier’s mouth twitch, but his lips went hard again as he squeezed her hand on the gun.
“Try it and find out,” he said, voice like gravel.
She yanked her hand away and stepped back, arms crossed, as Xavier tucked the gun into the back of his jeans.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
Katie was good at calling people’s bluff, but everyone knew the Clarkes didn’t bluff. They always followed through. So she just glared at him, hoping it looked tougher than it felt.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer.
She swallowed, backing up until her legs hit the bed. She stumbled, but he caught her, pulling her flush against him. She froze.
Xavier Clarke was a legend—a total player. He slept with girls and never looked back. Katie had grown up in Frederick and never seen him with the same girl twice.
With his strong arms around her, the tattoos peeking from his collar, and those dark-green eyes, she could see why girls let him in their beds. He had that whole dangerous thing going on.
Just one night with him and I’d probably scream his name until I lost my voice. Get your shit together, Katie.
He tightened his grip, his hand coming up to her face. She bit her lip, refusing to sigh as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.
“Leverage,” he whispered.
She gasped and tried to pull away. Damn him and his stupid charm.
He just held her tighter, dragging her toward the door. She kicked and fought, but Xavier was strong. He kept her pinned against him, ignoring her nails digging into his arm.
“Let me go!” she screamed as he hauled her into the living room, dumping her into the old armchair.
He pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at her. She glared at him, but he didn’t even flinch.
His face was smooth, unreadable. And, annoyingly, gorgeous.
Why does my body hate me? He is not hot. He’s a drug-dealing asshole who I need to fuck up. Or fuck. Stop it, Katie.
He must have seen something in her eyes, something she hadn’t meant to show, because his gaze dropped—just for a second—to her mouth, before he smirked and glanced around at the disaster that was her living room.
Two massive guys had her dad by the arms. Another man stood in front of him, gun aimed right at his chest. There was a silencer on it. That meant they weren’t here to scare him—they were here to kill him.
Her heart squeezed so tight it hurt. She looked at her dad, tears streaming down his blotchy red face. He was sobbing, his stomach pushing out of his ripped shirt.
His flannel was half off his arm. His pants were stained with blood, some from his nose, some from the cut on his cheek. Tears burned in her eyes, her throat closing up.
He was a terrible parent, but she didn’t want him dead.
“This is your daughter?” the man with the gun asked.
He looked so much like Xavier that she knew instantly that this was his father, Julian Clarke. The boss. The big boss.
The asshole who wouldn’t even blink before pulling the trigger. Her dad looked over at her and nodded.
“Y-yes,” he stammered.
Julian’s lips curled into a nasty grin, his gold tooth flashing. “And you love her?” Julian’s voice was deep, dangerous.
Her dad nodded desperately. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll get you your money,” her dad begged.
Julian laughed, and Katie dug her fingers into the sides of the chair.
If I die because of a drug deal gone wrong, I’m going to be so pissed.
Julian walked over and pressed the gun to her forehead.
The cold barrel dug into her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear slipping out. She wanted to knock the gun away, to fight back, but now wasn’t the time.
Maybe if there was only one guy with a gun. But Xavier wasn’t her friend. He’d shoot before she could even move. And Julian was huge.
His chest was broad, gold rings shining on thick fingers, his suit tailored to show off every inch of muscle and power. It worked. She was scared out of her mind.
“No! Please!” her dad sobbed.
Julian clicked off the safety. Katie held her breath.
“And my drugs you used? What am I supposed to do about those? You owe me fifty grand for that. I took a chance on you, Walker. I don’t give many of those,” he growled.
His guys yanked her dad’s arms, twisting one behind his back and shoving him over the coffee table. They smashed his face into the wood, forcing him to look at her. Another thug pulled out a knife, stretching her dad’s hand out flat.
Her dad fought, crying, trying to pull his hand away.
“No! Stop it!” Katie screamed, reaching for him, but Julian glared and shoved the gun harder against her head.
“Don’t be a hero, little girl. Or daddy dearest here goes to sleep for a really long time,” he taunted.
She bit her lip and slumped back in the chair. She was never going to forgive her dad for this. He’d gone too far, messing with the Clarkes.
“I fucked up. I know! I’m sorry, all right? Please, I can get your money back. I have buyers, I promise!” her dad blurted out.
Julian narrowed his eyes, looking between her dad and her, then nodded at one of the thugs. “Tony. Get the package,” he barked.
One of the big guys went to the door and grabbed a duffel bag. He dumped it on the table. Julian walked over and patted the top of it.
“I like you, Walker. You knew I was coming. You knew you fucked up. Most people run, and I have to hunt them down. But not you. You brought me right back here, to your home, to my bargaining chip. I respect that,” Julian said, almost like he was being patient.
Katie glared at her dad, wishing she could disappear.
“So, I’m going to do something for you.” He grinned. “I’m giving you a chance to fix this.”
Katie tensed, waiting for the punch line or the bullet.
“Anything! I’ll do anything!” her dad, being the idiot he was, shouted.
Of course he’d say that. Like promising a drug lord anything ever ended well.
“I know. You’re going to sell this for double what I gave you last time. And I want it done in three weeks,” Julian ordered.
Her dad’s eyes went huge, but Julian held up a finger to shut him up.
“Uh-uh, I’m not finished. In those three weeks, we’ll be watching.” Julian grinned, then turned to Katie with a look that made her stomach drop. “And to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, I’ll be taking our leverage with us.”
