Jade
By
Sarah Jayne Carr
Published by
Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly, LLC.
Novi, Michigan 48374
This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Jade
Copyright © 2021 by Sarah Jayne Carr
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are
either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Artist:
Pretty AF Designs
Edited by:
That Editor Chick
Published by:
CHBB Publishing LLC.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means without written permission of the author.
Contents
Also by the Author
Dedications
Acknowledgements
Playlist
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
About the Author
The JackRabbit7 Series
Flavor of Regret
Blue
To Shirley— I didn’t finish Jade in time for you to experience Brady’s. I’m so sorry. R.I.P.
To Fray— Because the promise of penis sketches, the reward of chapter swaps, the threat of blue things, and the beauty of our friendship helps make the world go ‘round. If it weren’t for you, Jade still wouldn’t be finished. Thank you.
Hard doesn’t begin to describe this story. Freaking hard. Blue flowed effortlessly through my veins in comparison. The characters in Jade were secretive, so guarded when it came to telling their stories or any details about their lives. Locked up like Fort Knox. They insisted I “hurry up and wait” while I wrote, giving me a sentence here or a paragraph there. They also gifted silence, forcing me to digest their issues for long periods of time. The cast demanded patience and taught me tolerance. In the end, I learned they weren’t guarding themselves; they were guarding me.
To Clint, Cannon, Steele, Michelle, Ed, Brent, Fray, Sabina, Miriah, Lainy, Wonder, Sarah, Trixie, Karmin, Abigail, my CHBB family, and my readers.
xoxo
Outrun the Tide— Wonder
Run— James Gillespie
Unknown— Tuvaband
Our House (The Mess We Made)— You Me At Six
Hanging On— Active Child
i hope you cry— Meg Myers & morgxn
Poisoned— Tuvaband
Fall Apart— The Careful Ones
Mortal— Fractures
Crashing Down— UNSECRET & Jeffrey Amor
Breathe— Fight the Fade
Mess Her Up (Acoustic)— Amy Shark
Blame— Echos
Swim Good— Indiana
Breathe— Forest Blakk
Low— Lund
Borders— Nathan Ball
Yearning— Michael FK
Open Water (feat. Old Tribe)— The Citrus Clouds
Monsters— Brother Sundance (feat. Ella Boh)
All at Sea— Richard Walters
Farewell— Michael FK
Please Don’t Go— Stephanie Rainey
Hallowed— Lund (feat. Emily Raymond)
Moral Panic— Nothing but Thieves
The Way I Used to Love You— Blue October
Enjoy the Silence— Depeche Mode
Closer— Nine Inch Nails
Eagle-Eye Cherry— Save Tonight
EMF— Unbelievable
Vow— Garbage
6 Underground— Sneaker Pimps
Right Now— Van Halen
I Will Remember You— Sarah McLachlan
Push— Matchbox Twenty
Pony— Ginuwine
Creep— Radiohead
Everything About You— Ugly Kid Joe
Iris— Goo Goo Dolls
Shimmer— Fuel
Tonight, Tonight— Smashing Pumpkins
Come Undone— Duran Duran
Far Behind— Candlebox
Losing My Religion— R.E.M.
Bitter Sweet Symphony— The Verve
Wonderwall— Oasis
I’m Only Happy When It Rains— Garbage
Love Will Keep Us Alive— Eagles
More Than Words— Extreme
Truly Madly Deeply— Savage Garden
Everybody Hurts— R.E.M.
Rain— Madonna
Jealousy— Natalie Merchant
Angry Johnny— Poe
Foolish Games— Jewel
Runaway— The Corrs
Listen.
-The Universe
Jade
Roxanne Perez spoke fluent asshole, which was exactly how I needed it. She could reduce me from pant-pissing laughter to an ugly cry in under two seconds. Call it raw talent. If friendships held titles, she guaranteed my reality checks never bounced. None of them. A wrong look from her could crush my over-inflated hopes and dreams from miles away, making them shrivel faster than a man’s vagina cork and buddies being dipped in a bucket of ice water. And if she were a dude, I’d have married her.
That was an exaggeration. T
he name-calling. Not the marriage part. If I had to assign it a number, she was only thirty-three percent verbal butthole. The other two-thirds of the time, Roxy amazed me. She had it all— the perfect ratio of being a brilliant thinker, a successful business owner, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. However, a thousand bitter judgments lurked below her candy-coated exterior, waiting to unleash. Being so close meant I had to brace myself for brutal honesty at all times. I was ready, petroleum jelly in-hand, for the sandpaper abrasiveness and round of chafing left in her wake. It beat waiting around to see if her nose grew when she tried to cushion a blow.
Over the years, people fed me so many lies there wasn’t room for the truth. That was the best thing about Roxy. She radiated bluntness, leaving no margin for bullshit fluff. I craved her straightforwardness, even if it hurt my feelings.
The truth was that important.
I drew a sharp breath, allowing the words to sink deeper, to the bone, where pain went inescapable. Often, I’d reflect on the sentence, sometimes for hours or even days, allowing it to both consume and dominate me until thinking became punishment. Looking back, I’d had it wrong the whole time. The emphasis should have been on the word was instead of that. Past tense.
The truth was that important.
There. Much better. But it couldn’t fix what already broke. One tiny word held the power to change my perspective on everything.
“Do I need to stage an intervention? That’s the second slice of cheesecake you’ve inhaled in under twenty minutes,” Roxy said. “You’re scaring me.”
Regret took hold. The oversized bite I’d jammed toward my throat hole became both an ally and a traitor, acting as sugary medication. Yet, it prevented me from defending myself without flocking Roxy like a Christmas tree with sticky, white bits.
“Jade Nash! You’re not training for one of those food challenges, are you?” Her face twitched at the half-eaten piece of dessert in front of me with a frown. “You know, where they dunk a crap ton of hot dogs in water and deep-throat them whole? It’s fascinating AF to watch, but it’s not normal.”
“What?” I mumbled with a full mouth, self-conscious I looked like a chipmunk preparing for a long winter.
“Don’t get me wrong. That’s a legit dinner. You have fruit, protein, and carbs. It’s iffy, but the mint sprig they used for garnish might pass as a leafy vegetable if you’re squeezing that meal into The Food Pyramid.”
I slid the decorative plate with the gold-embossed Brady’s logo an inch closer to me. “Your day wasn’t like mine. I deserve it.”
“Correction. You mean, you dessert it. Take a mental photograph of this moment. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you when we’re at the gym.” She uncrossed her legs. “You’ll be cussing me out on the stair stepper and clearing the ninety-seventh floor to combat the infamous Brady’s cheesecake adhered to your hips.”
“Not funny,” I replied. “Besides, I let my gym membership lapse. Remember?”
“C’mon. The day wasn’t that bad.” She leaned back and set her linen napkin on the table. “We live the dream. Co-own a business. You and I spend more hours together than most couples, and I haven’t filed for divorce. Plus, you’re lucky we’re both into guys so I don’t guilt you into putting out. It’s a win-win. If you ask me? It seemed like a boring Monday.”
“No one asked you,” I snipped, even though I had trouble staying mad at her for more than a few minutes. With Roxy’s bitchcraft skills surpassing level expert, she got mean-mugged a lot.
“They” say diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but I disagree with “them.” Roxy trumped any gemstone tenfold. That girl would do anything for me— bury bodies, cut the little tags off mattresses that said, “Do Not Remove,” smuggle illegal contraband up her ass while traveling across an international border. I’d never asked her to, and I doubted those circumstances would come into play during our lives. What mattered was if the need arose, she’d be there to help— regardless of the details or the prison sentence.
Roxy still had a way of telling me exactly how it was, or how she thought it was, whether I wanted to hear it or not. She deemed it “honesty.” I called it an invisible, blunt kick to the unsuspecting vagina with a steel-toed boot. On most days, I could look past what I classified as her greatest character flaw. But I wanted that imperfection most and held her on a pedestal. Within the few days in-between when I wanted to throttle her neck, I came to grips with realizing she was right and summoned a silent appreciation for her direct opinion.
We were best friends who complemented each other like bananas and bacon, peanut butter and burgers, or avocado and chocolate; our relationship comprised of two irreplaceable counterparts you wouldn’t expect and might question. She was black and white logic while I fell somewhere into the gray shadows. Any way you viewed it, one fact remained true: sometimes that girl needed to learn how to keep her upfront opinion to herself, especially on a night like July 1st.
“You don’t see me drowning my sorrows in cream cheese, sugar, and graham cracker,” she said.
“You’re fortunate. Your patients are clothed when you adjust them. I’ll bet no one asked you for a body slide massage today.”
“A what?” She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow and fought off a grin threatening the corners of her Botox-enhanced mouth. “Sounds… kinky.”
“Last time I checked, getting oiled up, rubbing my body all over a client, and giving a happy ending isn’t listed on the price sheet behind Gwen’s desk.” I made a back-and-forth gesture with my hand near my waist as if I stroked a dick. “Let’s just say the Internet didn’t paint a pretty picture when I researched. On a side note, don’t forget it’s your responsibility to clear my browser history if I die before you.” With a shudder, I flattened a trail of crumbs with the tines of my fork and sucked them clean. “Spare yourself the extra-strength eye bleach.”
“That’s really a thing? Huh. I mean the massage, not the eyeball cleaner.” She rested her palms on the table, fingers splayed wide. “Wait. Was it the new guy who came in at noon? So hot. Tell me it was him so I can live vicariously through you. I want to know all about his weapon of mass distraction.”
“You know I don’t cross boundaries on the table. Who cares if he were a ten or Hairy Barry, our sasquatch accountant?”
“Hilarious.” She snorted. “I hear what you did there with the rhyming and the play on words. Hairy. Berries. Barry.”
“Ugh. Thanks for the image you painted of Barry’s balls.” I rubbed my temples. “Why did I bother mentioning him?”
Roxy pretended to lock her lips before throwing away the key. “If you explored your client’s forbidden fruit, I wouldn’t tell a soul. Just give me the deets, and we’ll call it even.”
“Rox, I told him to GTFO as soon as he slapped my ass and called me ‘Sugar Tits.’”
“Snap!” Her eyes popped wide. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner! Ask him to be your date to the wedding. No doubt his personal schedule is wide open.”
“You lost me a few blocks back,” I said. “Are we talking about Barry or the massage client?”
“Well, I think you already fizzled the chance with Mr. Body Slide, Sugar Tits. I’m talking about Barry.”
I waited for her to laugh or offer a “just kidding.” Neither happened. Roxy didn’t crack a smile.
Is she serious?
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” I firmly shooed away the unpleasant visual of Barry wearing anything less than a long-sleeved button-up shirt, pocket protector, circular glasses with thick, black frames, and starched khakis. Scratch that. Let’s go with an XL-size snowsuit. Maybe three. Layers. Layers were good. Envisioning the tufts of hair sprouting from every inch of Barry’s exposed skin made me frown. It was the Eighth Wonder of the World his clothes didn’t tear from his body, trying to contain the monstrous fur coat beneath. The dude could pass for a we
rewolf, no matter the lunar phase.
“Come on. He’s not that bad,” Roxy countered.
“Not that bad? You date him! He lives in his mom’s basement, plays bingo every Saturday down at Peking Cock’s, and his favorite hobby is roaming town with that obnoxious metal detector because he thinks he’ll find pirate treasure. He may be the best accountant Cannon Cove has to offer—”
“Only. The only accountant,” Roxy corrected me again.
I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’m aware of the year, and I don’t need a man suction-cupped to my arm. I’d rather go to the wedding solo and be the cove talk for a week than settle for a pity date from a guy whose hidden talent is being nature’s answer to a spa exfoliator.”
“How do you know all this random stuff? Do you research Barry whatever-his-middle-name-is Townsend when you’re home alone at night?”
“It’s Ulric,” I said between sips of water.
“Huh?”
“His middle name. It’s Ulric. Bartholomew Ulric Tucker-Townsend.”
Roxy’s chin dipped toward her chest in disbelief. “I’m not sure if I’m more weirded out his initials spell ‘BUTT’ or because you have that tidbit of knowledge locked away when you could save something useful up there.”
“Useful? Like what?”
“For one, taboo body slide massage etiquette,” she replied.
“Veto. Next.”
“How about the orgasm article I told you to read? There were some great tips in there, and I’m concerned about your anatomy below the equator. It’s been months since—”
“My southern region is doing fine, thank you.” I deadpanned her and backed up over the last area of focus as if it were roadkill I aimed for in my rearview. “And it’s not my fault I know weird stuff. I’m the town massage therapist. People tell me everything.” I stabbed the last bite of cheesecake, jamming it in my mouth as a glob of strawberry glaze fell to the pristine white tablecloth.