Jagger by Octavia Jensen

Author:Octavia Jensen [Jensen, Octavia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flower Bone Publishing
Published: 2024-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine:

Some Call It Powers Of The Mind

Jagger

It’s been two days since I saw Remi, and I haven’t heard from her since. She’s not really giving me the time of day, so I vow not to reach out for a bit so I can keep myself from obsessing over her. She’s the last damn girl I should be obsessing over anyway, I’ve literally sued her... there’s no coming back from that. Doesn’t matter that I feel a little bad about it, the damage is done, and she’ll never forgive me.

Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me.

There isn’t even some grand gesture that can make it right unless I can somehow pay her back, and that’s a road I don’t even want to consider taking. She’d probably tell me to fuck off anyway. I could offer to take over her monthly payments — wait, why the fuck am I thinking about this? We’re just hooking up. We’re not even dating, and even if I tried to date her, she’d laugh in my face.

God, why does that thought make me want to go over to her house? Why does her anger turn me on? Her “who hurt you?” question comes to mind, and I huff a laugh when I realize that the answer is everyone. There isn’t a person alive who hasn’t let me down, so it’s best to keep everyone at arm’s length. That’s why this situation is ideal. She hates me, and her hate feels fucking good. I don’t know what that says about me.

My mom would probably have me committed or force me to be baptized into her church if I told her any of this, so I don’t tell her anything. She believes her stern way of raising me made me a perfect man that anyone would be lucky to date, but that couldn’t be further than the truth. My mom left my drunk of a dad when I was eleven, taking me across the country to a smaller town where he couldn’t find me, but I remember a lot from my childhood even if she doesn’t want me to. Her biggest fear is me turning into him, and sometimes I think I have. Not the drinking part, sure I partake on the weekends and stuff, but I remember how cold he was at times, how he’d go from detached to angry in seconds. Mostly though, I remember how possessive he was.

He was so controlling my mom wasn’t even allowed to go to the store without him or he’d assume she was out cheating on him. I’m not that bad, but whether that’s because I really am better than him or I haven’t allowed myself to care about someone that much, I’m not sure. Because with every girl I’ve ever hooked up with more than once, I feel myself become more and more obsessed. I start to wonder who they’re around, who they talk to, who their friends are, who the hell they flirt with when I’m not around. It’s

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