Jenalyn: Crossing Lines (#4) [Complete]

Chapter 47: Dane

Monday, 12:09 P.M. EST

“It’s just a concussion, you’re not going to fucking die!” I tell a whiney Sierra, who sits in the passenger seat of my truck acting as if she’s just been told she only has days to live. “You’re still making the runs I have scheduled for you, and that’s that.” 

Sierra whines beside me, mumbling something about how the doctor said she needed rest, and to not exert herself physically or mentally if she wanted to treat this properly. 

I don’t give a fuck. The concussion didn’t fucked with her memory enough for her to have forgotten the drugs she tried to steal from me last night. 

I slam on the brakes, sending her flying forward. She misses hitting her head on the dashboard by only centimeters and let’s out a loud wail.

“You’re being so mean to me ever since Hayden came here!” she cries uncontrollably, readjusting herself back onto the passenger seat. “I did what you told me to! I kicked her-“ 

I reach over and grab the blubbering girl by her neck with no hesitation. Anger boils in my veins, and despite being in the middle of traffic, I need to remind her about her life.

“First off- it’s Jenalyn. Her goddamned name is Jenalyn!“ I growl, ignoring the honk from the car pulling up behind me. “And second- don’t you ever fucking mistake me for nice! You were a goddamned stand-in Jena, for Pete’s sake! Does it look like I’m nice to her?!”

Sierra looks both frightened and hurt as I tighten my grip around her neck. The car behind me grows impatient and lets out a series of honks, which go ignored.

“No?” I ask after a moment of her being unable to respond. “Then don’t go thinking you’re special!” 

I let go of her neck and quickly regain and reposition myself before accelerating at a speed I know is way over the limit. 

Sierra chokes, still crying beside me. She knows better than to open her mouth now though.

She only feels this way because I fucked up with her in the same way I fucked up with Jena. Don’t get me wrong Sierra was, in no means, anywhere as privileged as Jena has always been. Yeah, I slip her a few extra lines now and then. Yeah, we have sex. And yeah, she occasionally sleeps at my place or acts as a guard dog- but she’s only had these privileges because she reminds me of Jena.

I’ve been a little too loose with Sierra’s leash too. 

I need to get back in touch with the old me. The sick me- and I’m not talking the stupid fucking love sick shit I been going through since Jena fucked me up.

The thought only makes me more angry.  I weave in and out of traffic in a rush, trying to match the pace of the blood still rushing through my veins.

It’s not nearly as fast though. 

It’s pretty unsatisfying, but I have something else cooking up in my head that may be able to make up for it. I’m not done with Jenalyn. And Sierra could afford to learn a few things too. Why not have some fun with this? 

I’ve been slacking on my promise to make Jena’s life as close to hell as it could get without actually sending her there. It was just the part of me that feels bad because it hates to have to do these things to her.

But that part of me is the fucking problem. 

That part of me is the reason she thought she was going to defy me and run off to start some life with a bastard child. That part of me is the reason she thinks she has another life to run off to in the first place! 

That part of me is the reason I let Sierra get a little too comfortable.