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  Hurt You

  The third book in The Wrecked Series, a stand alone novel

  Abby McCarthy

  Copyright 2015, Abby McCarthy

  Copyright © 2015 Abby McCarthy

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the book review.

  Cover Design by Hang Le

  Edited by Nicole Reid

  Book Formatting by Indie Pixel Studio | www.indiepixelstudio.com

  Connect with me

  http://abbymccarthyauthor.com

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  For the dreamers, the bullshitters and the fake-it-til-you-make-it-ers, we strive for something.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Note to the reader

  Acknowledgements

  About Abby McCarthy

  Prologue

  I hit the intercom that hangs on the wall of every room in this godforsaken house.

  “Yes, Mrs. Valentino. What can I do for you?” Maude, one of the maids my husband hand-picked for employment, replies through the small box on the wall.

  “I’d like a bottle of white; chilled.”

  “What year?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Chardonnay, Pinot.”

  I cut Maude off, stopping her because this could go on forever. “Maude, I don't care. Just bring me something, will you?”

  “Yes dear,” she finally says. Minutes later there is a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I command. She doesn’t look at me. They never do. My husband likes it that way. I can only imagine what an interview with him must be like. ‘How are you at imagining people don’t exist?’ he would ask, coming off intimidating.

  Maude pours a glass and begins to walk out of the room with the bottle.

  “Leave it. In fact, I’m getting into the tub in a few minutes. Why don’t you bring me another bottle, so it’s here when I finish this one off.”

  I walk past her, grab the glass and the bottle, and then head into my master bath locking the door behind me.

  I take a sip and the dry wine coats my tongue. She went with the Chardonnay. I turn the hot water on and the tub begins to fill. The house is quiet except for the water hitting the tub. I take another sip, then I take a gulp.

  I drop my robe and stare at my naked body in the mirror. Who is this woman staring back at me? I’m not sure I even know. My hair is freshly dyed, black with red undertones. It nearly touches my ass. My lashes will last me another two weeks, but they do their job making my eyes look less hollow. My body is what shows the biggest change. I used to be curvy and sexy. My breasts that pushed a D cup are now smaller, closer to a small C. I used to have hips that I loved to sway. Now, my bones jut out and my thighs are gone. There are a lot of things I miss. My body is just one of them.

  I submerge myself into the hot water, keep my glass of wine in my hand and the bottle close. The water is hot, singeing my skin pink. I finish my glass and decide to drink it straight from the bottle. I never used to be a fancy girl.

  My eyes close, and it’s like I can see him. This is the only place I really can. I remember it all so clearly, and I wish I had a different choice to make. Life doesn't always give you easy choices. You just have to do the best you can. Right now, I’m choosing to close my eyes and live in the past, if only for a while. Maybe here, I can remember what it was like when he touched me.

  Chapter 1

  Past

  It was a break-up like many other break-ups. It ended with me crushing his heart, breaking a few things, and then walking away. I always had to walk away, no matter how much they wanted me to stay. Drew was a nice one, too. He was an amazing lover; the things he could do with his tongue. But then, he had to go and do it. He had to fall in love with me. I was pissed. I don’t want them to love me. Loving me can get them hurt. Drew, sweet Drew. He didn’t understand why I didn’t love him back and that’s why when he grabbed me, begging me to stay, I lost it. I was ticked. Not particularly at him, but at my whole situation. I threw things and broke things until he called me a crazy bitch, and then I left. Anger was so much easier than love.

  High on adrenaline from my fight with Drew, I decided to grab a beer and pulled into the first bar I saw. I’d never been into this bar before, but a sign reading Benny’s over the door and a bunch of motorcycles parked out front gave me the impression that it was the type of place I could have fun at. The type of placed I needed.

  Walking into the bar, I noticed a bunch of bikers with a logo on the back of their vest; The Devil’s Crusaders. Even though, I was raised in Little Italy; a neighborhood in Wakeman, I’ve always known who The Devil’s Crusaders are. Heck, I don’t think you could live in a hundred mile radius of Wakeman and not know who they are.

  I saw a girl sitting at the bar. She was pretty, brown hair, fair skin and she had a fierce laugh that told me she knew how to live. Something the older bartender must’ve said had her in stitches. I also noticed that she was ignoring all the guys around her. Maybe she knew something I didn’t? I decided the empty seat next to her was as good as any.

  “Jack, bring me another shot!” the girl shouted.

  A man with white hair and a white beard set a shot down in front of her. I momentarily wondered if he dressed up as Santa. “What are you drinking?” he asked me.

  “Get me whatever she’s drinking, it looks like I’m having the same kind of night.”

  The girl smiled at me, “Oh, I doubt you can handle what I’m drinking.”

  God, do I love a challenge.

  “Oh, I definitely can handle what you’re drinking.”

  Jack slid two shots in front of us. And I lifted the glass, “Bottoms up.” I said, clanking the glass against the girl’s.

  “She didn’t even flinch Jack.” Then turned to me, “You didn’t even flinch.” I smiled liking her enthusiasm for alcohol.

  “That was amazing. What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s an Alabama Slammer with Jack Daniels.”

  “Have you ever had an Irish Hammer? It’s Jack, Irish Mist and Bailey’s?” I asked.

  “No, but that sounds awesome. Jack, make us two Irish Hammers.”

  I opened my purse to dig out cash, “I got this round.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. I can’t pay for a drink around here if I tried.”

  “Thanks. My name’s Jenny, by the way.”

  She looked at me confused and then asked, “You don’t know who I am do you?”

  “No, should I?”

  She shook her head no and then stuck out her hand, “Name’s Maura, Maura McCafferty. Nice to meet you.”

  “So what’s your story? You can’t be twenty-one?” I asked because she looked like she could be in high school.

  “No, I’m not, but it doesn’t matter here. You see all these guys with patches on? Well, they’re my family and the patch says I don’t have to be twenty-one to drin
k.” I looked around, understanding why she thought I should know who she was. She was a Devil’s Crusader. “And that guy over there with the small ponytail,” she motioned with her head to her left.

  “He’s cute.”

  “Yeah, he is, but he is like my brother and I can’t get a date for the life of me. He chases every guy off. If I stood up right now and flashed the bar my tits, and asked if anyone wanted to get lucky, do you know what would happen?”

  “I’m guessing I can see where this is going, but what would happen?”

  “They would turn around, and no one would look except maybe Dawson.”

  “Is ponytail Dawson?”

  “Yes, but most people call him Daws,” she said rolling her eyes, then she asked, “So that’s my story, what’s yours?”

  “I just broke up with Drew.”

  “Was that a bad thing?” she asked.

  “He did this thing with his tongue; it was fucking fantastic. But he was a little too into me. I wasn't feeling it.” A tiny bit of guilt passes through me when I say this.

  “At least he was a good kisser.”

  “Oh honey, no one said anything about kissing. He was a good flicker! The way that boy swirled it…wow.”

  She started laughing, a deep belly chuckle, “Hey Jack, get us another round.”

  “To men who know how to use their tongues,” I raised the shot glass.

  “To getting a man to use his tongue on me,” Maura clinked her shot glass with mine.

  Another round.

  Another toast.

  We sat, we drank and we laughed at everything. I have a big family and a ton of cool women in my life, but I hadn’t connected this well with another chick in, well, ever.

  We were maybe eight shots deep when the real fun began. “Jukebox time!” I hollered. A few guys watched us, some from their club and some that were not. I saw a couple of guys get up to dance with us, but were quickly given looks by Maura’s Crusaders that said ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  “No wonder you can’t get laid,” I yelled a little too loudly.

  “No kidding, right? Did you see that cute guy with the hat? He was about to come over here,” she admitted.

  “I’m going to have to do something about that. I know, I’ll yell tits really loud and you go talk to him.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense. Everyone will be interested in your tits. Look at those things,” she said and snort-giggled. She friggin’ snort-giggled!

  “I know! The point is they will be interested in my tits. They’ll be so distracted that you can talk to him without anyone giving you a hard time.”

  “You’d be willing to show your tits in this room just so I could talk to a guy?” she asked.

  “Won’t be my finest hour, but I’d be willing to do it for you. I think you could use a reprieve.”

  “How right you are, but the girls can stay under wraps.” She nodded in the direction of the guy who now had some blonde gyrating on one knee.

  “You know what this calls for?” I said.

  “Shots!” we both screamed in unison and walked off our makeshift dance floor and back to the bar. Jack looked us both over, “You think maybe you two have had enough?” he asked.

  “How about a redheaded slut?” I countered and ignored Jack’s question. A little bit of Jager and lots more giggles later had us on the floor in stitches. I was trying to show Maura how to twerk, a dance move that I myself have never mastered and was not very good at hence why we were on the floor. Jack flicked the lights and yelled last call. “Shit I’m drunk,” I said and did a slight hiccup.

  “Shit me too.” Maura laughed.

  “Uh-oh, ponytail is behind you.” I said, directing Maura’s attention to the biker standing over her. After all, we were on our asses.

  “You two must have done fifteen shots. I think you’re done for the night,” Dawson said.

  “My brother is going to kick my ass when he sees how hammered I am. ‘Cause there is no way I can drive,” I tell Maura, sobering up at the idea of Carlo having to come get me.

  “I can’t drive either. I’m leaving my bike here,” Maura said.

  “You have a bike?”

  “Hell yeah, I do! She’s so pretty. You have to see her.”

  “Maura, you’ll ride with me. You need me to call your friend a cab?” Dawson asked.

  “She is going to be waiting forever at this hour for a cab. Hey Jules!” Maura yelled to one of the bikers who was taking the last swig of his beer.

  “What’s up, Maura?” Jules answered. I locked eyes with the man, but only for a second and I was surprised I didn’t notice him earlier. He had dyed bleach blonde hair that was long on top and shaved on the sides. His eyes were an icy blue that didn’t give much away. They seemed guarded. He was good looking in that ‘don’t fuck with me, I’m a badass’ kind of way.

  “Jenny’s coming to the clubhouse with us. You got her?” Maura asked.

  His eyes raked over me; first my eyes, then my full lips. I could feel his gaze as it trailed down past my breasts, hips, then legs and back up again. I kid you not, I felt naked under his stare. Then, as quickly as his eyes were on me, they were gone.

  “Yeah,” he said in a barely audible tone.

  We walked outside and some of the guys were already taking off on their bikes. Maura hopped on the back of Daws’ bike. The way she threw a leg over told me she was a pro. Surprisingly enough, I’d never been on a bike before. Jules got on his bike and backed it out of his parking spot, then motioned for me to get on. I did what Maura did, giggling at myself as I did it, well ‘cause I was hammered, and life is just a little more amusing through drunk goggles.

  “Been watching you. Can’t believe you’re standing, let alone laughing. You're not gonna puke on me, are you?”

  I shook my head and laughed even though something about how he said he was watching me slid over me, his words wrapping around me and making me feel comfortable. It could’ve been the Jager, but I was feeling all sorts of warm, and somehow, I knew it had to do with him.

  “Good to know. Never saw a woman who could keep up with Maura.” That was it, all he said before he took off and his pipes rumbled. I leaned into him and held tight. Seconds later, we were stopped at a traffic light, the last in the line of bikes. Some had made the light and only Maura and Daws remained in front of us.

  If I wasn’t so intoxicated, maybe I would’ve known that I was being watched. It felt like everything was in slow motion. The black Range Rover with big shiny wheels approached and slowed as it pulled up alongside us. The windows were tinted nearly black. We couldn’t see in, but I knew who was behind the glass watching me. He slowed just enough to drill it into my head that he would always be right here watching, waiting. Then, just as fast, he peeled away and blew through the light. I saw Daws look back and make eye contact with Jules. Maybe they thought Antonio did that because of the Devil’s Crusader’s vest, but I knew different.

  I felt Jules's fingers glide over my own. I realized I must have tensed when Antonio passed us and I was clinging to him like I thought he could save me, but there was no saving me.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” I lied, and his eyes narrowed on me.

  The drive to the clubhouse was longer than I expected. The roads wound up hills and there was a chilly bite to the air. It didn't matter, I was drunk and enjoying the buzz. The freeness of the road just magnified it. I’d never had a reason to come this way before, but it would become a road I traveled frequently.

  We pulled through a gate that was already open and waiting for us. The clubhouse was more like a large warehouse with a garage across from it with several large bay doors. We walked through an unmarked door and into a huge bar. Most of the guys from Benny’s were also here but now many of them had women hanging on them. I wondered where these ladies came from. It was as if they materialized, just in time for the boys to get here.

  The bar was in the middle of the
room separating it into two sides. On one side, there was a pool table and Foosball table with long vinyl bench seats around it. Then, on the other side of the room there were tables, a couch that housed a woman with very large tits right out in the open kissing another scantily dressed chick and a stage that was currently empty but based on the stripper pole was often a source of entertainment. My drunk self thought about how my inner stripper thought it would be fun to learn some dance moves, but maybe not tonight.

  Maura grabbed my hand and walked me up to the bar, “This isn’t too much for you, is it?” She just about challenged me with the way she asked, and truthfully it wasn’t. I was no angel. Besides the ruggedness of the men and the brazen sluttiness of some chicks, this small party wasn't that wild.

  “Bring it on!” I told Maura. She smiled so brightly at me and then grabbed the bartender's attention. “Hey Rhonda, bring us a couple of buttery nipples.”

  The bartender started fixing us shots. “That’s Little Titty Rhonda. You can call her that, she won’t mind. Over there on the couch? Those tits?” I nodded and glanced over at the very naked tits again. “That’s Big Titty Rhonda.”

  “Makes sense,” I agreed.

  Our shots came and we proceeded to get even more intoxicated. Maura pointed out who everyone was. She had funny stories about some of the guys. I could listen to her talk all night. Maura had a way about her that made me forget about all of my problems. My problems were huge, yet her easy going fun attitude made everything feel smaller. We put music on the Jukebox and danced to a few songs. I looked around and saw that Dawson was watching Maura, and for a second, I thought Jules was watching me. Once my eyes met his, he looked away and didn’t spare me much more of a glance which was just fine by me considering I need a man like a cat needs snorkeling lessons.

  It must have been near four in the morning, when the clubhouse finally started to dwindle. “C’mon, you can have my bed. I’ll sleep in my dad’s,” Maura said once we were finally so drunk and exhausted that we could no longer function.

  “You share a room with your dad?” I asked confused at this revelation.