Regretting You Read online

  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  1. Jackson

  2. Kennedy

  3. Jackson

  4. Kennedy

  5. Jackson

  6. Kennedy

  7. Jackson

  8. Kennedy

  9. Jackson

  10. Kennedy

  11. Jackson

  12. Kennedy

  13. Jackson

  14. Kennedy

  15. Jackson

  16. Kennedy

  17. Jackson

  18. Kennedy

  19. Jackson

  20. Kennedy

  21. Jackson

  22. Kennedy

  23. Jackson

  24. Kennedy

  25. Jackson

  26. Kennedy

  27. Jackson

  28. Kennedy

  29. Jackson

  30. Kennedy

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Also by the Authors

  Cruel Obsession Sneak Peak

  Blurb

  Once upon a time, she was my sister’s best friend.

  I’d always wanted her to be mine, that is until the night everything changed, and my love morphed into pure hatred.

  Now I’m a vile bastard with a chip on his shoulder. Cruel black hate is all I know. My only focus *ucking my way through Blackthorn’s elite women and partying.

  Then she shows up at Blackthorn. She’s different now, quiet and reserved, but just as beautiful as she was the day she disappeared.

  One look and my focus changes. I decided then that my time for revenge is now. No way does she get to enjoy herself. No, I’m going to make her life hell. Destroy her from the inside out.

  I’m going to make her regret ever walking my way, because if it wasn’t for her…my sister would still be alive.

  Prologue

  Kennedy

  What happened? Pain consumes my entire body, my limbs are hard to move, and all I want to do is close my eyes and drift away. My heavy eyelids close with ease.

  Wake up. A voice calls, echoing loudly through my mind. Sucking air into my lungs, I gasp at the pungent smell of gasoline that fills my nostrils. My mind is hazy, my thoughts swirling, and nothing makes sense.

  Twisting, I realize I can’t move. The seat belt digging into my flesh painfully, holding me in place. Though my gaze is blurry, I can make out the form of my best friend. Her slender body sprawled through the shattered windshield, partially lying on the hood of the car. No! Her face is covered in blood, coming from large gashes on her forehead.

  Bile rises in my throat, making me gag.

  “Jillian…” I call out. My voice so raspy, I barely recognize it as my own.

  She doesn’t move. Her shirt is soaked in red, and my entire body starts to shake. “Jillian, wake up!” Using every ounce of strength I have, I reach for her. Stretching my body painfully, trying to get to her, but my fingers wrap around nothing but air.

  Sirens sound off in the distance, someone is coming to save us. Jillian is going to be okay, she has to be. Staring at her lifeless body, I feel something warm dripping down my face.

  Blood. Lifting a hand, I touch the side of my face, running my fingers along the deep gash on my cheek. I’m bleeding, but I don’t care. I’m not even scared for myself, but I am terrified for Jillian.

  “Jillian! Wake up. Please, wake up. Help is coming,” I beg, my lips trembling, and my words slurring. Tears slip down my face as I wait for help to get here.

  The closer the sirens get, the further I feel myself slipping away again. It’s like my entire body is being wrapped in a blanket. Suddenly, the pain in my limbs drifts away until my whole body goes numb. I can’t feel anything, can’t make sense of the noises surrounding me. I can’t see anything besides my best friend. Her lifeless eyes staring back at me, and her beautiful face ashen.

  I think footsteps approach, lights, and sirens blur through the quiet night. But all I can do is stare. Watch. Wishing that it was me…

  That I was the one dead.

  1

  Jackson

  Three days have passed since I found out Kennedy was here at Blackthorn. The blood in my veins turns to ice at the mere thought of her. Her presence is a constant reminder of the night I lost my sister and how much my family has suffered.

  Why is she here?

  I clench my fist around air, envisioning her throat being in my grasp. The hate I feel for her is all-consuming. It should terrify me. The things I’ve thought of doing to her should rattle me to the bones, but it doesn’t.

  Staring at the entrance to the bookstore, I try to act as if I’m not looking for someone. It took me hours to calm myself enough to get to this point. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. All I know is revenge, anger, and hate are burning through me, threatening to take over any rational thinking.

  Grinding my teeth hard enough to crack them, I watch as she walks out of the school bookstore. It’s like seeing a ghost, but when I blink, she is still there. I’d seen her walking across campus, smiling, happy, alive. That was much more than my sister had. She was in the cold, dark ground. No future, no smile. She was part of the earth, and now it’s time for Kennedy to pay. She got a slap on her wrist for what happened that night, but I would make sure that she got a real punishment.

  My pulse spikes, excitement coating my insides. Now’s the time to pounce. As soon as she turns the corner and starts down the alleyway between the two buildings, I move. My feet make little sound as I rush toward her.

  She should be smarter, pay closer attention to her surroundings. Then again, she probably wasn’t expecting me. I wonder briefly if she knew I was here. If I was part of her choice in coming here.

  The first thing to hit me as I get closer to her is her scent. It wafts into my nose, filling my head with memories of a girl I used to love, used to crave. My lip curls in disgust, and I want to punch myself in the cock for thinking about her that way. But such an emotion is impossible to turn off. Even after all this time, she still smells the same, like jasmine and vanilla.

  Forget it. Forget her.

  Pushing everything but the hate down, I drown myself in the anger and reach for her. My fingers digging into her shoulder. The pads of my fingers burn where I touch her. A gasp escapes her lips as I force her to turn to face me. When I push her back against the brick wall, I become mesmerized, watching as the air expels from her chest.

  She’s nothing but a bug, a useless tiny bug, and I’m going to squish her.

  “Either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish… tell me, which one is it?” I cock my head to the side, examining her shocked features.

  Her pink lips part and her hazel eyes widen with confusion, then recognition, and finally fear. It’s been years since I saw her last, but as far as I can tell, she looks the same, everything but her hair that is. Her heart-shaped face is framed by long blonde hair. It’s a far cry from the chocolate brown she used to be, but I like it better. It makes it easier for me to see her as the killer and less like the girl I used to love. Then it hits me. Is she trying to hide?

  My gaze drifts from her lips and over to the scar that mars the right side of her face, the skin is raised and a soft pink, that’s faded tremendously over time. With a bit of makeup, it’s barely noticeable, but I know it’s there. I will never forget.

  Even with the scar, her beauty is indescribable. She still looks like a goddamn angel sent from heaven. Which I hate more than anything. The thought ignites my anger for her further, and like a match meeting gasoline, I explode. I don’t even think as my hand wraps around her delicate throat.

  Her pulse thunders under my grip, but she doesn’t make an effort to fight me off or run away. I make no
te of how strange that is but push the thought away before it can latch onto my subconscious. Focusing all my attention on her, I visualize how easy it would be to give her the same fate my sister had been given. Burning rage simmers just beneath the surface, and I squeeze tighter, ignoring her whimper and the fear pooling in her eyes. What kind of person does it make me if I want to watch the life fade from her eyes?

  Good? Evil? Bad? I haven’t decided yet. See, I wasn’t always like this. I used to love Kennedy, but now I’d rather watch her drown. While my sister had died that night, Kennedy was able to cover up the single scar she’d been given. Studying her closer, I notice the slight tremble of her body and enjoy that I’m causing her so much fear.

  Backed into a corner with nowhere to go, I smile cruelly down at her. I’m a good foot taller than her, not that height matters. Trapped in my web, I could do whatever I wanted to her. She’d never be able to fight me off. If I wanted to break her open and see what’s inside, I could. At the thought, my grip on her tightens, my fingers digging into her flesh.

  “Jackson…” She gasps but doesn’t make a move to fight me off.

  Narrowing my gaze to her face, I inspect her as if I could figure her out with a single look. Maybe I can use having her here to my advantage. I can make her suffer, make sure that my sister gets the revenge she deserves.

  Death would most definitely be kinder to her than I ever would be.

  “It’s your fault. All your fault, and now you dare come here… to Blackthorn?” The words claw from the back of my throat and out of my mouth as I pull her away from the wall just to push her back again. The back of her head bounces off the wall slightly, and her hazel eyes bulge as if she didn’t expect me to do what I just did.

  It takes everything in me to not squeeze her throat any harder than I am. I want to hurt her, break her, make her feel my pain, and yet, an invisible rope holds me back, refusing to let me cross that line.

  Why is she here?

  “I didn’t know,” she whimpers, her entire body trembling. The last thing I want to hear is her excuses. Nothing she ever says will bring my sister back. Nothing will make all the wrongs right. We are trapped in this fucked up world together, and if it wasn’t for Kennedy making such a stupid choice that night, my sister would be here. But she isn’t, and because of that, I’m no longer the good boy with a heart of gold. I’m no longer kind and gracious. That guy died the day my sister did. Now, I take from women, and fuck and drink until I can escape the pain. The pain that she caused. It would be so easy to end this, but again my body refuses to let me.

  “Shut up,” I growl, leaning into her face.

  My entire body is shaking now, and I don’t know what I’ll do next. Part of me wants to hurt her now, end it, but the rational part of my brain knows I could make her life worse in other ways. I could make her suffer, elongate her pain. It’d bring me more pleasure that way...

  “Stop!” A scream pierces the air and fogs around my head. Shock splinters through both Kennedy and me at the sound. Turning to look at the newcomer, I find a woman, roughly the same age as us, and most likely a student here. She’s staring, watching us.

  Fuck. I know I have to let Kennedy go. This chick has seen me, and if I don’t go now, I’ll have to explain myself, and I’m not fucking doing that, so reluctantly, I release my hold on her throat and take a step back. My eyes remain on the unknown woman, who is watching me with a simmering rage in her eyes. I could tell the girl to go away, that everything is fine, but maybe this is fate’s way of saying that’s enough for today.

  Clenching my fists, I force myself to take another step back, going in the opposite direction of where I want to go. Kennedy remains against the brick wall, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind. I’ve delivered my message, and hopefully, she’ll take it, digest it and get the fuck out of here before it’s too late, because if she doesn’t… I can’t even think of how badly the repercussions are going to be for her.

  With one last lingering look at Kennedy’s fear-stricken face, I turn and shove my hands into my pockets. I walk down the sidewalk like nothing happened and blend into my surroundings. I don’t turn around or even glance over my shoulder as I walk. I doubt Kennedy is stupid enough to follow me, and that girl, what could she possibly say?

  With every step I take, my thoughts become a little clearer, and my plot for revenge thickens. I won’t convince her to leave, no, I’ll make her stay. A smile pulls at my lips, but it doesn’t feel right. Deep down, I’m not a bad person, but for my sister, for her memory, I’ll be whatever I need to be. Kennedy had better watch her back because I won’t just rip her to pieces. I’ll destroy her, tear her apart, and watch from the sidelines with a smile as she begs me to stop.

  2

  Kennedy

  The nightmares find me like a beacon of light after my interaction with Jackson. Never in a million years did I think I would see him again. Least of all here. Not that Blackthorn isn’t a good university to attend, it’s just not one that I thought he would’ve chosen for himself. He always talked about going to Berkley, so how he ended up here, I don’t know. Well, I kind of do, but I loathe thinking about it.

  I do my best not to think of him or the way he looks at me. Angry, dark, and completely lost. My heart thuds deep in my chest. He hates me, maybe just as much as I hate him. I’ve always known that Jillian’s death was my fault, but it was Jackson’s fault just as much.

  He should have been there at the party in the first place. If he would’ve been there, everything would have been different. She would still be alive… I would be… I can’t finish the thought without wanting to vomit.

  He looked just like he did the day I left, just more mature. His eyes the most vivid green, his mousy brown hair tousled like he ran his fingers through it. I could feel every hard inch of his body as he pressed me against the brick wall.

  Thinking back on the other day and how I reacted, he probably thought I was scared to see him. Which I was, but only because I knew seeing him would bring up a plethora of unwanted feelings. I’m not scared of him. There is no pain he can inflict on me greater than the pain I’m already inflicting on myself.

  Stop. Don’t think of him. I feel myself slipping down the dark tunnel and into the abyss. The events of that night will never leave me, but I’ve learned that I can’t hold onto them if I want to be present in the world.

  I don’t deserve to be here, but my therapist and parents are pushing me. Claiming it’s time, time to move on, time to let go of the pain… Time. Such a funny word. Time couldn’t heal wounds as deep as mine. It couldn’t make the nightmares go away.

  I make it to creative writing 101 early. The class is still empty, which means I get to snatch the best seats by the window. This is only the second week of classes, but I already love this class. Last week we discussed one of my favorite books, and since I love writing, the homework was fun instead of annoying. There is not much in my life that still gives me joy. Reading and writing are part of those very few.

  Getting my reading material and notebook out, I go over my paper in my head. The teacher, Mrs. Jarrid, walks in shortly after, taking her seat up front. Students slowly filter into the class, but I barely pay them any attention, immersing myself in my paper. I make some final notes and changes when suddenly my hand stills, and the pencil tip stops moving across the paper mid-sentence. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and my chest tightens.

  “You heard me, move. I’m gonna sit here now.” Jackson’s dark voice pierces through the air leaving goosebumps behind on my arm.

  I glance up and twist around, watching him settle into the seat behind me. The guy who was sitting there a moment ago walks away while shaking his head.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper over my shoulder.

  Why the hell is he here?

  “Oh, me?” he questions innocently. Leaning in, so only I can hear him, he whispers, “I’m just here to make sure your life is miserable.” A sinister smi
le splits his face before he straightens back up, dismissing me completely. Turning back around in my seat, I feel the need to barf.

  The class I loved last week becomes one I’m barely able to stand. It has nothing to do with the material or the teacher and everything to do with the person sitting behind me. I can feel his eyes on me, and even though he hasn’t said a word or moved, I know he is staring at me, watching me.

  My body is stiff and rigid as I sit in the chair, trying my best to make it through class, which is much harder than I ever could’ve imagined.

  Twice, I almost got up and left. The only reason I stayed is because I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me back down. No, I don’t deserve to be here, but I am, and there isn’t anything I can do to change it. My parents basically forced me to come here. I was perfectly fine where I was, but they wanted me to get out of the house.

  I know Jackson hates me, but I hate myself far more than he ever will.

  Trying to focus on the professor, I force my gaze to the front of the room, but I can’t shake the heat against the nape of my neck. His tangy scent of lemongrass and citrus surrounds me, intensifying his presence ten-fold. How can he still smell the same after all this time?

  I thought coming here would help me forget about my past, but with his stupid scent and presence, I’m reminded of a time when he held me in his arms, kissed my forehead and told me everything would be okay.