Payback Read online

  Payback

  Nicole Elliot

  Contents

  Payback

  Copyright

  Prologue

  1. Jett

  2. Cami

  3. Jett

  4. Cami

  5. Cami

  6. Cami

  7. Cami

  Three years later

  8. Jett

  9. Cami

  10. Jett

  11. Cami

  12. Cami

  13. Jett

  14. Cami

  15. Cami

  16. Cami

  17. Cami

  18. Cami

  19. Cami

  20. Jett

  21. Cami

  22. Cami

  23. Jett

  24. Cami

  25. Jett

  26. Cami

  27. Cami

  28. Cami

  29. Came

  One Year Later

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  Untitled

  Untitled

  Preview

  Payback

  A Bad Boy Romance

  By Nicole Elliot

  Copyright

  Payback

  Copyright © 2017 Pink Empire Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Prologue

  Cami

  April 2013

  “Sissy! Sissy!” Tommy calls, running through the knee high grass towards me excitedly.

  “What is it?” I ask as he reaches me, opening his hands and showing me the butterfly he caught.

  “Sissy, it's for you,” he says, smiling brightly.

  “Thank you so much, Tommy. It's so pretty, but we have to let it go. If we don't, it’ll probably die.”

  His little face drops and tears fill his eyes.

  “Oh, Tommy, don't cry,” I reply, pulling him into me. “It’s just how things are, you can’t keep something so pretty captive. You have to let it be free.”

  Freedom is all I want, but I’m not as pretty as the little bug, with its delicate wings and colorful exterior. No, I’m just me. But for Tommy, I’m enough. I cradle his hands in mine and we pry open his little fingers together. I watch his wondrous blue eyes as it flutters away. When he can’t see it anymore, he wraps his arms around my torso and looks up at me. I know what’s coming. A question. He always has questions. Nature of his age, I guess.

  “Sissy?”

  “Yeah?” I answer back.

  “Am I going to die?”

  I fight the lump in my throat. “No, Bubba, you're not going to die.”

  I hold him tightly, knowing I may have just told him a lie. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath and try to slow my heartbeat. I know he can feel it, and I don’t want to give away my deceit.

  When I open my eyes, we’re no longer at home. The sterile white walls and hum of the machines bring me to tears. Looking to my left, I see Tommy, lying there in the hospital bed that seems too big for his tiny body. His little face is swollen and his eyelids are a pale hue of purple. He opens his eyes and smiles. “Sissy,” he says, his voice like paper. I take my time to get to him—I have to be strong. He’s the child, not me. It’s my duty to protect him. I tried, I really did.

  “I love you, Tommy.”

  “Me too,” he says weakly.

  Sitting down on the bed beside him, I hold him as he rests his head on my shoulder. I close my eyes again, feeling the tears as they escape, running down my cheeks. I open my eyes again, and this time, I'm caught in a sea of black. My mother and father are in front of me, looking down at the child sized coffin. I look around, recognizing family I haven't seen in years. Each person here has tears in their eyes and a somber look on their faces. Suddenly, the sky opens up, and a cleansing rain begins to fall. Walking up and standing beside my mother, I look down at the floral arrangement atop Tommy’s tiny coffin. Taking a closer look, I see a beautiful butterfly fluttering around the arrangement. Its yellow and orange wings are almost an exact replica of the one he let go that warm spring day. I watch as they beat against the soft rain until it lands on top of a lovely purple carnation. A sob rips through my chest as I remember that day and the exuberant young boy Tommy was before the cancer took over his delicate body. My words ring back through time.

  “No, Bubba, you're not going to die,” echoes through my mind.

  In an instant, my eyes flicker open, wet from the tears shed in my sleep. Glancing over at the clock, I see it's a quarter after five. I wipe my eyes and slowly sit up in bed, all the old memories flashing through my mind.

  It’s been eight years since the day I lost my baby brother, and not a day goes by that I don't ache from the loss. It’s Saturday morning. Since Tommy died, it’s become my least favorite day of the week. My mother has me up by six o'clock to do chores and catch up on laundry—usually while she sits in a rocker in the front window, sucking down mixed drinks. Grief affects everyone differently, but sadly, both of my parents handle it the same. With alcohol.

  I am literally holding this family together by the skin of my teeth. If I wanted to be free before, those feelings were nothing like the prison I’ve been encased in now. They’d simply fall apart without me here to take care of them. But I finished all the laundry and caught up on chores yesterday so I could go out with Jett today. A moment outside the prison Tommy’s absence keeps us all in is a welcome break.

  Stretching, I slowly get out of bed and head to the adjoining shower. As I get out, I hear my dad’s truck start up. I know where he’s headed: the river, to drink. His typical weekend routine even this early. It’s not even like they can wallow together. I wonder how much longer until one of them leaves for good. I try to shake the thought from my mind. Quickly, I get dressed and blow-dry my hair. I'm standing in front of the mirror, looking at the ensemble I’ve chosen: a pair of blue jeans, my favorite red top, and my ballet flats.

  I hear another car door shut from the street and I peek out the curtains to see Jett standing next to his car. He leans on it like he would wait all day for me to come out. Smart boy.

  My heart thumps in my chest as I put on my lip gloss and smile at my reflection in the mirror. I grab my coat and purse as I rush out of my bedroom, practically slamming the door behind me.

  “Mama, I’m leaving. Jett is here. I’ll be back later.”

  She doesn’t even make eye contact, just continues to look out the window. I stop for a moment and wonder what she sees. How she’s managed all this time. I feel horrible for thinking that one of them may abandon us. Whoever the us is that’s left. I walk over and kiss her on the forehead and she mumbles incoherently as I turn to leave. I make my way down the steps, anxious to get away from her and the sorrow she carries. Sometimes I’m afraid it’ll spread like a disease, taking me down with it.

  I miss Tommy every day. But I refuse to let my life go to waste. That blue eyed little boy, who’s buried in the cemetery on Peach, wouldn’t want that. I’m sure of it.

  Jett gives me a kiss on the cheek. “You ok? You look a little down today,” he says, as I practically jump into his arms.

  “Mama’s blitzed, as usual,” I reply, looking back at my mess of a mother through the window. r />
  “Getting close to the anniversary, aren’t we? I feel like she’s always worse then.”

  He’s right, we’re only a couple weeks away. She’ll be really bad for about a month before the date. But Daddy? He’s just in a drunken daze all the time.

  I tear my eyes off of my mother as I hop in the passenger side of Jett’s truck. I know what I have to do. As Jett's truck barrels down the dusty dirt road towards town, I look back once more, and I swear I must be losing my mind, because I’m almost positive I see tears sliding down her cheeks. She hasn’t cried in years.

  Her tears dried up, just like the love in that house.

  1

  Jett

  August 2013

  Cami stands and shoves me down on her bed. I roll over, looking up at this beautiful fucking woman above me. Her tank top falls to the floor, followed quickly by the booty shorts she slept in last night. I lay there, unable to move, struck completely immobile by the most magnificent sight I've ever set eyes on.

  She shoves me back, climbing on top of me.

  Feisty, I like that.

  Her hands grip my jeans and she pulls, taking my boxer briefs down with them. Leaving my jeans on the floor, she crawls her way back up my legs. She kisses up my thigh, trailing her soft, full lips across my skin, all the way up to my hip bones and across my stomach… then lower.

  Lower.

  Lower.

  I can’t decide if I need to hold my breath or let it rapidly barrel out of my lungs. She sits back on her heels and gazes down at me. I wish I could read her mind. I’d pay anything to know what she’s thinking right now. Her hand replaces her lips, running along my chest, my abs. My breath catches when her hand reaches the short stubble of hair on my groin.

  She reaches out and gently, almost reverently, runs her finger down the backside of my cock. It jumps the moment her cool skin touches it, and she laughs, low and sexy. Wrapping her hand around me, she pulls, stroking up and down.

  My eyes slam shut as a tense groan of painful pleasure escapes me. She slows her rhythmic pumping just before I feel her breath puffing out against me. Her tongue slips out between her sexy lips and circles the head of my dick. I force my eyes open to see if this real. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  She glances up at me from under her lashes, watching my expression. She licks the head, leaving a trail of spit on it. My cock jumps again before she slides her mouth down, sucking me into her warm mouth. I feel her tongue still circling my dick, popping against the head of it each time she rises, before lowering herself back down again.

  Her hand wraps around me, stroking along in tune with her mouth. I feel my orgasm building in the base of my cock. My hands grip the sheets tightly. Sweat beads on my brow.

  Her ass is poking up in the air, wiggling a little bit. I watch for a minute, imagining pounding into her hard and fast from behind. She moans, taking more of me. There’s no way she can swallow all of it. No one ever has. It doesn’t stop her from trying, though. I can feel the back of her throat when she drops down and I can’t take another second. I feel the orgasm start deep inside of me, racing through my veins.

  My cock hardens even more.

  I try to pull her off, not wanting to fill her mouth with my seed, but she keeps going. Sucking harder and stroking me faster and faster, her tongue licking the head over and over.

  The first wave crashes over me. My cock pulses and my cum shoots out, coating the back of her throat. She moans and swallows a mouthful before sucking more of me down again. I pulse again and again, filling her mouth with my hot seed. My body shudders, and I lay there, stupefied. Never in my life have I had a blow job like that. I can't move. My heart is pounding in my chest at an alarming rate.

  She licks the head one more time before kissing her way up my chest to my neck, my cheek, and my lips. I capture her, flipping her over on the bed below me. My cock is already stirring, ready to slide deep inside her silken folds.

  “Mmmm, so sweet,” I say, kissing along her neck to the hollow spot at the shoulder.

  My lips never leave hers while I slide into her. Slow inch by slow, agonizing inch. She stretches around me, her sweet juices coating me, making it easier for me fit within her tight pussy. Her legs wrap around my waist, crossing my back, pulling me farther inside. I can't wait another second.

  I pull out until just the head is resting right inside of her, and then taking a breath, I slam into her… hard. She cries out. Not in pain, but in ecstasy, pure fucking ecstasy. Her nails scrape at my back as I pull in and out, slamming into her over and over. I feel her getting closer. She tightens around me, pulling me into her, demanding that I give her all of me, like I have a fucking choice. She is my master, and I, her willing servant.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.” Her cries fill the room, and then she shatters around me, pulling me over the edge with her.

  “Oh fuck,” I grind out as my seed fills her, shooting into the deepest, darkest crevices of her womb. I fall over on top of her, spent.

  “Jett, hell man, wake up!”

  I jostle awake, realizing that once again, it was just a dream. A fucking good one, but it was fantasy. She’s not here. She shouldn’t be.

  I’m in hell.

  “What?! Man, I was just dozing.”

  “Sure you were, dreaming of that sweet ass again. What’s her name?”

  I sit up on my cot as my dusty boots hit the hard ground. “None of your damn business. Now what the hell do you want? I’m not on duty for another hour.”

  “Captain says we need to check out an abandoned building with the platoon. They think some assholes are hiding there. Gear up.”

  I rub my eyes again. There are no nights here, no days either. Just death. If the bodies don’t give you nightmares, nothing will. So instead, I look at my picture of Cami every time, right before I shut my eyes. That way, at least some of the time I can trick my body into seeing her, thinking about those round breasts and that perfectly shaped ass.

  But she’s gone now. Just like everything else in my life. I let it all go to enlist. To get revenge for my brother.

  Jackson died in the field, torn to pieces by one of those damn makeshift bombs. I’ll kill every last one of them. I have to.

  2

  Cami

  Jett and I have one thing in common: loss. It’s the worst thing to have in common, really, and I’m not surprised when he decides to enlist. Jett’s always been brave, and I understand his need for revenge for his brother. He has to try to get back some of what he lost. I feel that way about Tommy all the time. But it’s been six months and I don’t know that Jett’s ever coming back.

  Ty, with his crew cut hair and dark eyes sits down across from me in the diner. “Long line at the bathroom. What’s the deal with this place, anyway? We always come here.”

  He’s right, we do. It’s because it’s Jett’s favorite diner, and he’d always complain about how long the line for the men’s room was. It’s pretty much a trucker stop, kind of light on the women. It always made me laugh when he would have to wait to use the restroom, since that’s usually a girl thing. So once a week, I make Ty bring me here for pie or ice cream, and we sit and talk and act like Jett’s gone.

  Ty and Jett never met. Jett and I were in high school together, and Ty and I didn’t meet until after Jett had left. That was probably for the best. At first, Jett wrote me all the time, but when he left, we agreed to see other people. It broke my heart to do it, but I know it was the right call. Otherwise I’d be even more miserable.

  I’m no good at waiting.

  But Ty isn’t really “other people.” Mostly, I see him as a friend, but lately, I can tell that he’s ready to move on to something more. He wants something deeper. I just don’t know that I can give it to him.

  “Because I like the cherry pie. I tell you that every time we come here.” I’m not telling him about Jett. I can’t.

  “Is that what you ordered?”

  I nod. “With ice cream. So anyway, what
’s your big news?”

  He folds his hands on the table. “I’m leaving.”

  “Because of the cherry pie?”

  “No. I’m leaving this good for nothing small town life and moving to Memphis. And I want you to come with me.”

  “Memphis. Why?”

  “There’s a job for me there. We’ve been out of high school for over six months, Cami. We’ve got to move on. And what are you doing here? Waiting for your parents to lose their minds officially? Or get a divorce? There’s nothing for either of us here.”

  But in the back of my mind, Jett is still here. All of our memories and our past are still in this tiny little town. Even if he’s not. But Ty is right, my parents are just getting worse. I don’t know how much more I can take. Maybe this is the chance I’m looking for.

  “Fine.” I sigh. “When do we leave?”

  He claps his hands together and a smile beams across his face. “This weekend! I’ve got us a nice little apartment, and it shouldn’t be hard to find you a job in a big city like that.” He reaches across and takes my hands in his. “This could be a new start for us, Cami, a good one.”

  “A good one,” I echo back at him, trying to hide the pain hidden below the surface.

  3

  Jett

  Basic training is over, and finally, I’m home on leave. I set my bag down outside of my childhood home just like they do in the movies. Mostly for nostalgic purposes, not because it’s actually something you want to do, though putting that bag down feels like I drop hundred pounds. I have a lot of weight on my shoulders.

  My whole division, plus Jackson.

  I watch as the screen door opens and my mother pops her head out, waving at me wildly. “George, come quick! Jett’s home!”