‹ Prequel: Trespassing
Sequel: Wrecked
Status: This story is marked as a sequel, but you DON'T need to read Trespassing to understand it! It's about different characters.

Unmasked

Chapter 29

Valerie's POV

Jackson had been back for three days now. I managed to avoid the annoying dog, up until he made avoiding him impossible by stationing himself in my bedroom. I should start locking the door—at all times. I gave an annoyed huff, tossing my purse onto my desk chair.

I crossed my arms, staring down at him. He was lounging on my bed like he owned it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get up and get lost this instant."

Jackson peered at me with something akin to confusion. As if I'd asked the most difficult task on the face of the Earth.

"You've been scarce, Val. It's your fault I'm cornering you."

"Good grief. Do you honestly think I've been going out for the sake of avoiding you?" I glared at Jackson. "You're delusional in your young age. Get out."

His hair was longer, just brushing his shoulders. He stood at full height, just a foot away, towering over me—more so than Finn. Still, I kept the icy stance, quirking an eyebrow once he sighed. Instead of walking off, he dug into his pocket for… He held out a small black box, wrapped in a haughty purple ribbon.

"What's that?"

"A gift." He pushed the box towards me.

"I don't want anything from you. We're not together anymore and I'm not going to keep having this conversation with you." there was a hardness to his brown eyes; the cunning edge that had been present the day I broke up with him, was staring back at me now. "Please, Jackson. Just… stop." the softer side of me surfaced. It was a mistake—a glitch from spending so much time with Finn.

Jackson wasn't used to this side. Obviously, he saw it as weakness, as a hint that he was getting somewhere with me. He snatched one of my hands, forcing the damn gift into the contorting palm.

"Stop being such a bitch! Playing hard to get is fun, babe, but everything has an expiration date. You can't tell me that—"

"I'm seeing someone!" I yelled tossing the box; it bounced off Jackson's left arm before landing somewhere on the floor. It was like having a weight lifted from my chest. I'd been dreading Jackson finding out about Finn and me. Why? Because the idiot was so hung up on me.

Jackson came at me in a blink of an eye; he grabbed my forearms in a crushing grip. He gave me a solid shake, bending his head.

"You're what?" he snarled.

I didn't dignify him with an answer. It was my life, I owed no explanations to him or anyone else. I jerked my arms back—still he wouldn't let go.

"Let go…"

"Is it Sebastian Hughes?" I gaped at him—then redoubled my efforts to get free.

"Let me go—right now!" I yelled. Acting on instinct, I aimed a kick at his knee. Jackson faltered enough for me to rip away from his hold. Stumbling backward, breathing heavily, I glared at him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I growled, looking over my reddening skin. I hoped it wouldn't bruise… "You really don't see why I broke up with you? You're a rabid animal! Get the hell out…"

Jackson looked back at me, winded. He clenched a fist, licking his lips. When he tried to come towards me, I reached behind, grabbing something—I threw it at him. It was a hairbrush. It hit his chin.

"Valerie, I didn't…"

"Mean it? No, of course not. Like the time you slapped me. It was an accident, Valerie. It won't ever happen again." I recited his words from long months ago. It felt like a life time ago and then some. "I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth." I pointed at the doorway. "Leave."

I don't know what did it: me glowering at him or a last shred of consciousness, but Jackson marched out. I whirled, grabbing the knob to shut the door—he placed a hand on the door frame. My lip curled in disgust at the mere sight of him.

"I know you don't believe this—but I am sorry. Valerie. I…" I put my weight on the door. Still, he held it. "I love you, damn it!" he hissed.

Those words—coming from him—made me want to vomit.

"You don't know what that word means, Jackson." I whispered steadily. His mouth parted. I slammed my whole body into the door—boom! I never twisted the key so quickly before. My heart was thundering, drowning my erratic breaths.

For the first time ever, I felt afraid of Jackson.

***

Finn and I were going out, so, after I got over the giant scare Jackson bestowed upon me, I took a shower and picked out my clothes. I'd been ready for about thirty minutes and hadn't left my bedroom. I was afraid of running into Jackson.

I felt like a coward.

When someone knocked, I jumped.

"Yes?"

"Miss Valerie, Finn's here." came Simone's voice. He was here? I raced for the door, abandoning the eerie box Jack's gave me on my desk.

I cracked the door to peer at Simone.

"He came up?"

"Yes. Since you weren't waiting in the living room, I thought you were still getting ready. I told the boy to come up." Right. "What would you like me to tell him?"

My heart was crazy now. Was Jackson home? What if he waltzed into the living room?

"Tell him I'll be right down."

"Yes, miss." She strutted down the hall.

I shut my eyes, counting to ten, then hurried. I opened a drawer and dropped the unopened box in. I grabbed my purse and my chiffon kimono. I was still slipping into the black floral-patterned wear when I got on the last step. My lungs squeezed fiercely, leading me to wonder if I'd been struck by a power tool in the chest. Finn was standing near the white sofas, but he wasn't alone. I picked up pace, practically barreling into the blond boy and yanking him towards the door.

Finn's attention shifted between me and Jackson who was lavishly sitting on a sofa with his feet propped on the coffee table. I bet his mother would threaten to cut off his feet if she saw. After what he pulled earlier, I would gladly do the deed.

"…we were just getting to know each other. Don't worry, though, I didn't share any embarrassing stories."

"As if you have any." I snapped.

Jackson's calm stare told me I should tread lightly. He knew I wanted our past relationship kept secret, for our parents' sakes and for my own benefit.

"I have a couple."

Finn cleared his throat. I diverted my attention from Jackson to him, praying he didn't feel my quick pulse. Although, gray eyes were fixed on dark brown, not on mine.

"I'll pass. We're on a schedule." Finn said smoothly, I detected his usual nonchalant tone under the politeness. I bit my lip to keep from smirking.

"Exactly, let's go." I added, moving for the door, ignoring Jackson's leveled stare.

I waited for an annoying quip, like the ones he'd pulled with Sebastian on Prom night. My step-brother remained silent as we exited the duplex. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Part of me wanted to believe that finally—finally—he'd gotten the memo. Maybe seeing me with someone else was what he needed to grasp the truth: I wasn't playing a waiting game with him, I wasn't pining for him. We were over and done with. Another part of me… Thoughts got derailed once Finn kissed me inside the elevator. It wasn't just a meet and greet, it was a long, feverous kiss. It was a good thing the ride down took a handful of minutes.

"You didn't say hello."

I blinked a couple of times, breathing out, "Hello…"

"Your brother is…"

"A dick?"

"I was trying to find a nicer word. But yeah, that sums it up." I told you so, rang in my mind.

"What did he say?"

"First, he asked if I was your chauffer."

"What?" I deadpanned with bulging eyes.

"I thought he was joking. He wasn't." Finn leaned into an elevator panel. "I told him we were dating. That's okay, right?"

"That's fine! You didn't need to answer anything. Jackson has no right to private details about my life." Meddling was his favorite hobby. "I'm going to…"

Finn scrubbed his stubble.

"The guy's just another Christian Freight. Don't waste energy on him." I wish I didn't need to. Finn draped an arm across my shoulders as we walked the sidewalk.

"I know. Let's change topics." I leaned my head on his shoulder. "I invited your sister for lunch on Wednesday. Unlike Jackson, she's cool."

"You're hanging out with my sister? How?"

"We exchanged numbers, Finn. It's the technology era."

Finn gave me a squeeze into his side. I delivered a little grin.

"You don't need to put up with her to win points with me."

I eyed him dryly.

"I genuinely like your sister. Just because she's annoying to you doesn't mean I feel that way." I would admit: she talked a lot and got off topic easily, but I liked April's drive and raw energy.

After the movie, we met Ava and Thomas at Paradox. It was a slow night. The smooth jazz was a testament to it. Thomas wasn't in the greatest mood due to his mother's upcoming trial.

"…you're going to testify against your mother?"

Thomas flicked his wrist, waving his hand as one would while explaining a project, "She shot me. I was both a victim of her psychotic break and a witness. Yes, I have to testify."

"But… you have to do it on the stand? Can't you do it in private?"

Thomas smoothed a thumb across the scarred eyebrow, eyes fixed on nothing.

"No, I was summoned by the court." Ava was strangely quiet. I wouldn't blame her for being worried…

Finn sighed, tipping his head against the wall.

"It's much scarier to be the accused. Trust me." he snorted. a small frown came on; Finn reached for his Budweiser. Underage drinking meant nothing when Thomas Harrington was your well-connected friend. Finn became aware of our staring mid-gulp. He lowered the bottle, "I'm just hazarding a guess." He shrugged.

I'd spent enough time with this boy to know what his usual dose of nonchalant attitude was. Whenever he amped the dosage, it was either because the subject bothered him or because he was outright lying. The question was: in this case, which option was it? I pondered the question a little longer but came up empty.

We were halfway to my building when I told Finn to make a turn.

"Where are we going?"

"Do you trust me?" Finn's lips pressed together, kicking up on one side. "I'll try not to be offended by your lack of response."

"Usually you're offended by my answers, not my silence." Such a smartass. But I wouldn't want him any other way, I realized. Under twenty minutes, Finn was handing the keys to a valet and I was walking up to a large reception. The woman at the front desk quickly dispatched the man and lady to her coworker after spotting me. It wasn't the first time I stayed here or at any of my family hotels. I had a personal suite waiting for me whenever I wished.

"Goodnight, Ms. Monet. It's a pleasure to have you." She was already handing out a key. "Shall I send anything to your suite?"

I shook my head, "I'll call for room service if I change my mind."

"Of course. Should I call a bag carrier?"

"There's no need, thank you. Have a goodnight." I bid with a polite smile, aware of Finn trailing me like a shadow. I chose to overlook the hungry, curious look in the receptionist eyes as well as the eyes of wealthy people as we entered the chique elevator. "Jackson's home. Spending the night at my house isn't… ideal."

"So, you've dragged me to a hotel?"

"Dragged is a strong word. You came willingly." I smiled. "Do you have anywhere better to be?"

The doors parted, and I walked out. Finn hung back for a second; I cast a look over a shoulder. He broke out in a sly, half smile. The suite was basically an apartment, complete with two bedrooms—each with a bathroom—a kitchen, a small dining room and a living room. Finn and I found our way to the master bedroom. From there, we were a flurry of limbs and contorting hot bodies. I managed to get us inside the bathroom; soon, we were inside the glass shower. Finn grappled with the water, adjusting the temperature as I kissed his collarbone. He was pressing against my stomach and I was regretting not carrying around condoms. Finn pressed my back against the slate stacked wall as water crashed down on us. His hands found my breasts, fondling them gently as he kissed a side of my neck. Throughout our deep explorations of one another, my front ended up pressed into the glass shower door; I moaned against the cold surface squishing my erect nipples. Finn's steaming chest pressed on my back, one hand rode between my legs—I shuddered.

"You have the best ideas." He whispered into my ear. Water was still pouring, but we were out of its reach. Finn's lips closed around my earlobe, sucking.

Doing a contortionist job, I reached blindly behind me, searching for his manhood. It wasn't difficult to find, since it'd been pressing against the small of my back. I pumped him as best as I could in the twisted position I found myself in. Finn slammed a hand beside my forehead, to hold his stance. It wasn't long before I started rocking back against him—riding the two fingers buried inside me. I shut my eyes as pressure increased. My hand tightened around him—Finn stiffened. Then something warm splattered my back. He pulsed in my hand before shrinking; my fingers and wrist ached once I uncurled my hand, letting it drop as Finn picked up speed inside me. The hand he'd planted on the glass slid down leaving a clear path among a foggy glass; he threaded our fingers for a moment before grabbing my outer thigh. I don't know how long it took, I just know I let out a loud cry and Finn wrapped an arm around my waist when my legs shook from both pleasure and exhaustion of standing.

"I think…" he whispered against the back of my neck. "We should take a shower now."

I laughed, twisting my head to catch a glimpse of his plastered dark blond hair. It curled just above molten gray eyes.

"It's a good thing I always think ahead." Finn grinned reaching down to kiss me. I could've kissed him like that—slowly—for another hour.

***

Finn's POV

Two days ago, at Valerie's hotel, I thought about bringing up MIT. The letter came days after our graduation. Through financial aid, I'd been able to get a partial scholarship. Dad was the only one I'd told, though my mother and brother were pretty skeptical. They—unlike April—knew how college acceptance letters worked. Well, finally, Dad saw fit to tell everyone because there were requirements I needed to meet, like: programs on sexual assault prevention, on alcohol use, emotional wellness training, submit a medical report, register for Advanced Standing Exams and so much more. Many things I thought were over the top and huge time stealers but what could I do? There was a whole list of 'critical things to do' list before I arrived for orientation in late August.

I needed to talk to Valerie about this—it was a pressing matter. Especially since we'd never talked about college. I had no idea what colleges she'd applied to—what her plans were. I never thought I'd start dating a girl before kicking off college, miles away from home. What if—

I frowned at the door. I sat up in bed. Was that…? A knock echoed.

"Come in?" it sounded like a question. Had that been Valerie's voice? Yup, my brain supplied as the door opened to reveal a dark-haired girl with striking golden-walnut eyes… and she looked pissed.

"You're going to MIT?" I blinked. My brain jumped through hoops trying to come up with an answer to 'how does she know?'. I saw April scurry across the living room; today was Wednesday. They'd gone out for lunch—shit.

"April." I ground out.

"Don't," Valerie stepped inside. I was glad Mom and Dad weren't home because Valerie slammed the door; if I didn't have brick walls, they would've shaken. "Don't blame this on your sister. Or are you angry because you never planned on telling me?"

"Don't be stupid. Of course, I was going to tell you…"

"When? After flying in for orientation?"

"No!" I yelled back. "And what about you? You've never brought up college. I have no idea what you want to do—where you want to go." Valerie fell silent. Despite the anger surfacing towards Valerie and myself, my heart tugged knowing bad news were on the horizon. "Shit. Where did you get in?"

Valerie slacked into my beanbag chair; she lowered her bag on the floor.

"I applied to schools outside New York," she spoke quietly, crushing her hands between her knees. "I got into Stanford and UCLA… I chose UCLA." If my math wasn't off, that would mean seven to eight hours on a plane. "It's so far."

I pinched my nose. Understatement, Valerie, I wanted to say, but it would only upset her more. I summoned a placating tone.

"I meant to talk to you, Valerie. It's… I got in way before we were a thing and thinking about MIT wasn't a big priority when I was with you. Then… I kept putting it off."

"You didn't tell anyone but your Dad." She bit out sourly.

I rubbed the back of my neck, throwing out my arm in a useless gesture of frustration.

"Because my mother would've thrown a fuss about me going 'so far away'." I quoted Mom.

"Why?"

"That's not important." I deflected too quickly. She bit her lip to hold back from pursuing that topic. "Our relationship is serious to me. I never meant to—"

"Give me false hope only to abandon me?"

I snapped.

"You're going to California!"

"You don't have abandonment issues!" she yelled. "That's one of the reasons why I'm in therapy. You know that. I told you—I told you how hard…"

I hung my head. She had told me. I took a steadying, calming breath and let a couple of seconds tick by.

"I didn't do this to hurt you, Valerie." she ignored me. "I'm not accusing you of anything, be reasonable. Please."

"I wouldn't have applied to those colleges if I knew… If I knew this—us—was going to happen."

She was waiting for me to say the same. But I couldn't.

"Don't take this the wrong way," I glared at the floor. "I would've always applied to a college outside of New York. I need to leave. I need a change."

Valerie started smiling; I stood a little straighter, forehead creased in worry.

"Right. I'm being a drama queen about this whole thing."

"Stop that." I gestured as she grabbed her purse, ready to get up and leave.

"What?" she sounded truly perplexed; this was the Ice Queen. I hadn't seen her in the flesh—like this—since the lake house.

"Stop smiling like everything's alright. We need to talk about this."

She used her expensive handbag as a projectile, chucking it at my head. I snatched it out of the air right before it connected with my nose. What was this girl carrying? Bricks?

"I can't talk about it right now, Finn!" her scream left me winded; she marched to where I was, grabbing the bag back. She shoved at my chest using it as a shield. "I let you in. You know how big of a deal our relationship is to me." Any personal relationship was a big deal with her issues. "I trusted you…" she started walking for the door—throwing a last glare over a shoulder. "You're a selfish person, Finn Matthews."

I stared at her retreating back standing still as a statue.
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