*Okay, pumpkin. Be careful. Love you.*
“Dad bought it.” I sniff, locking my cell and placing it face down on the table. Standing up, Jake nods and walks over to the bath tub, switching off the faucet. I have no idea when he ran me a bath, but he had.
He holds out his hand, and I stumble a little. He catches me, holding me close to him. “I’ll, uh, I’ll give you some privacy so you can have a bath, freshen up.”
He lets me go like my touch burns him.
Sinking into the hot water is a welcoming feeling. I need to wash the night off me. Wash all essence of him away.
Good luck with that.
After my bath, I still feel dirty and nauseous. I walk back into the sitting area while Jake gets a shower, and I sit on the sofa. My mind races through the whole night. Picture after picture rush through my mind like a movie. I cover my mouth to stop the loud cry escaping, my throat burning with unshed tears.
“Hey, hey.” Jake rushes towards me, gathering me up in his arms. “Hey, we’ll get through this. Your mom and dad don’t need to know what went down tonight.”
“But I know, Jake. You look at me like I’m some sort of slut now. You back away from my touch like I’m going to give you some sort of disease. Why are you helping me? I don’t deserve it.”
“Dee, I told you before. I love you, I always have.” He kisses the top of my head.
“You were telling the truth?”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like that, Daria.” Looking in his eyes, I see nothing but love. “I gotta make a call.”
Nodding, I leave him to make his call.
When I walk back into the seating area, Jake is still on his phone.
“Yes, Dad. I’ll look after her.” He sighs. “Dad, I can look after my own girlfriend.”
Girlfriend?
You’re pretending, remember?
He turns to see me standing there. “I gotta go, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up, placing his cell on the side table. “You feel better?”
“A little.” I climb on the sofa beside him, curling my legs under me.
“You take the bed. I’ll be here if you need me.” He stands, and I grab hold of his hand. Getting to my knees, I pull him towards me.
“Daria, don’t.” He unlinks my fingers from around his neck.
“Jake, I don’t want to be alone.” I plead. “I need to erase tonight from my brain. You can help me do that.” My voice is pained as I pull him closer to me. “Please, Jake.” I kiss his neck. “Please, help me forget.”
He kisses my lips softly and lays me flat. Tears start to fall as he helps me replace the memories of what happened tonight.
“I can’t, Dee. I’m sorry.” He sighs into my neck. “I can’t. Not when one of them has been there already tonight.” His voice is low, whispering against my neck.
I lift his head and hold it in my hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be sorry.” I sniff. “Just hold me, please.”
He nods.
We walk into the bedroom and fall into a quiet sleep, holding one another.
***
The following morning, when we’re having breakfast, I have the worst headache I have ever had in my entire life.
“Are you sure you don’t want painkillers?” Jake asks me for the hundredth time.
“I’m sure.” I offer him a small smile. “Jake,” I start, but stop because I don’t know what to say. “I just want to say thank you for last night.” I look down, ashamed.
“There’s nothing to thank me for. What are fake boyfriends for?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it kills me.
“There’s everything to thank you for. Who knows what would have happened if you weren’t driving by. Thank God it was you and not those bikers.” It occurs to me that the biker place is nowhere near Jake’s house, or any of his friend houses. “How did you know I was there?” I repeat my question from last night. Now it’s his turn to look ashamed. “Jake?”
“I followed you and Jess. I know I shouldn’t have, but you were acting weird and not yourself. I felt the need to protect you.” His shoulders slump in defeat. “You got hurt anyway.”
Getting up from my seat, I stand in front of him, placing my arm around his shoulder then lean down and kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what? Being a stalker?” He raises both eyebrows.
“No, for being there for me, and for covering for me when you could have easily ratted me out to my parents.”
“Well, like I said; what are fake boyfriends for?” He sighs, standing. “You ready to face your mom?”
I nod and follow him out.
My cell vibrates in my pocket when we get into the car. Seeing Jess’ name pop up makes my heart hammer against my ribs. She tried to call me a dozen times through the night but I just haven’t had the courage to talk to her yet.
“Hello?”
“Oh, so you’re alive then? I’ve only called you like a gazillion times, Daria.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.” I look over at Jake, who I know for a fact is pretending to not listen to the conversation.
“Busy with what? Or who? Oh my God. You got lucky with a biker, didn’t you?”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I prepare myself for her squeal. “Busy with Jake.”
“Jake? As in Jake Jefferson? What happened to you hating him? We hate him, Daria.” I can hear the alarm in her voice. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing, Jess.” I try to keep the tears at bay.
“You sure everything’s okay?” I can tell by her voice that she’s worried about me.
“I’m sure. I’ll call you later.”
“Why didn’t you tell her about the scumbag?” Jake asks when we stop outside my house.
“She has her own life to lead, Jake. I can’t keep letting her fight my battles.” I shake my head. Ever since we were little, Jess has always fought for me and with me. It’s high time I start fighting my own battles. “I’ll see you Monday at school.”
He nods his understanding then leans over and kisses my cheek.
He’s the same Jake Jefferson as he was in kindergarten, when he pulled my hair and kicked sand in my face. The same boy who punched Kian Holt for doing the same as he did the following day.
Breaking Jake’s heart was never on my list of life accomplishments, but then, neither was sleeping with some psychotic biker.
Chapter Three
Striker
“Why the fuck did you let her go?” I bark at Chucky. He’s standing at his full height, not afraid of my shitty mood and attitude towards him.
“Watch your fucking tone. You’re not in charge around here. Your father is, and while he’s gone, I’m in charge.” He squares up to me. I’ve known him all my life; he’s like a second dad to me. “We can’t keep underage girls here against their will, Striker. Even you should know that. She doesn’t belong here, son.”
“Fuck you. She stole from me. I will find her and make her pay.”
“Not as long as I’m alive and breathing will you get near her.”
After having a staring contest with him, I march away.
Asshole gonna stop me? I’ll tell the jokes.
Storming back into the clubhouse, my anger gets the better of me and I grab the first whore I see, not caring if she’s fucking or sucking another brother.
Kicking my door open and slamming the door closed, I drop my towel before throwing this bitch roughly onto my bed. She lets out a giggle. These whores love it any way you give it to them. As long as they're getting dick, they couldn't give a shit how rough you are with them.
“Shut the fuck up and get on your knees,” I growl, to which she complies like a good little tramp.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” She looks up at me with her green eyes, cupping my balls and licking her lips. I can’t get hard with her looking up at me. Pulling her up from her knees, I push her
towards my desk.
“I said shut up! Turn around.” Pushing her forward, I slam into her after putting a condom on. I don't know if she’s clean; I'm not taking any chances.
You didn't use anything on that other bitch.
I can’t get her out of my head. As hard as I fuck this slut, trying to rid my mind of Daria, the harder the visions of her sprawled across my desk race into my mind. The way she spoke back to me and the way she sucked my cock. Feeling myself about to blow, I take my cock out of Tori and storm to my dresser.
“Baby, come back. Let me finish you off.” Her voice is like nails on a chalk board. No wonder half the brothers gag her to fuck her.
“Get the fuck out.” Sneering, I barge past her, almost knocking her over. Still, she paws at me. “Are you deaf? I said get the fuck out.” I grab my keys and wallet.
A hand runs up my back. “But, you didn't get to finish.” She bats her eyes at me.
Grabbing her hair, I drag her to my open door and throw her out. She lands in front of Snickers.
“Get her the fuck away from me.”
“Come on, sweetheart. I'll lick those wounds.” He's such a fucking creep.
Why has this girl got me so amped up? She’s a fucking schoolgirl.
Her name’s Daria.
Pacing the floor like a caged lion, I grab my cell and search for her. Stalker.
I find an article about her, and a picture of her with a tall older man. He looks down at her holding a trophy; it looks like it’s for some dancing competition. I can’t tear my eyes away from her until I get a feeling of wanting to rip this guy’s eyes out of his sockets and juggle with them. I scan down to find out who he is, sitting straighter when I see his name: Mayor Nicholas Denver congratulates daughter in the state gymnastics finals.
The fucking mayor’s daughter.
Fuck. My. Life.
***
I hit the punch bag over and over again. After reading the article on Daria, I decided to dig further. I know where she lives, her mother’s name, and her school. I know her SAT score. Everything.
The mayor’s daughter. Fuck. I punch harder and harder, catching the punch bag before it smacks me in the face.
That’s the least of your worries if you get caught.
“What happened to you last night?” Nico walks in with Blaze.
“Lover boy here got lucky with your girl’s friend.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I begin punching the bag again, this time to stop me fucking up Blaze’s face.
“No. Way.” Nico laughs while strapping up his hands. “You screwed little Miss Denver.”
I punch harder because I don’t want to hit my best friend of almost sixteen years.
“I thought you… what was it you said again?” He looks up, tapping his index finger on his chin. “Oh, yeah, ‘I don’t do jailbait.’”
“Yeah, well, when someone offers it up on a plate, I sure as hell am going to take it.” Punch. “And I did. Fucking that pussy raw and ruining her for other guys.” The thought of another guy fucking her does something to me. Jealous? Fuck, no. I’m not jealous. That bitch stole something from me. I’m going to get it back.
“So, was she as good in the sack as she looks?” Blaze pipes up. “What I would do to that innocent body. Fuck her hard every which way until she begs me to stop. Hell, even then I wouldn’t.”
Something comes over me. I don’t hear the rest of what he’s saying as I march towards him, his eyes closed, grabbing his crotch suggestively. His eyes fly open in shock as my hand wraps around his neck. Shoving him to the ground, I storm out and straight to the bar for a much-needed drink.
Fran slams the glass on the bar. I look up to the woman I think of as a mother figure and she gives me the hardest look she has ever given anyone in this place.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad your father wasn’t here to witness what I saw last night.”
“And what was that? His son actually having fun?”
“Your mother will be turning in her grave.” Shaking her head, she looks disgusted.
I ignore her remark about my mom, draining my drink. I hear someone call my name.
“Striker.” Turning, I see my Dad walking in. “I need to talk to you. You too, Nico.” Nico and I look at each other and Nico closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before we follow Dad to his office.
“Do you think he knows?”
“Knows what? That we had underage girls here and fucked them both into next century?” I look ahead at my dad’s retreating back. “If he did, he’d have been yelling by now and your mom would be here too.”
I laugh at the widening of his eyes at the mention of his mom finding out and coming here.
“You’re an asshole,” he mutters as we take a seat in front of Dad.
Dad reaches under the table, pulls out two knives, and tosses them at us. “Cut the patches off.” I can’t read his or Mars’—the VP and my dad’s best friend—face.
“Why?”
“Do as you’re told.”
“Is this because of last night? Barron, please, we’re sorry,” Nico starts to say until I kick him under the table.
As I reach for the knife, Dad’s hand lands on top of mine. “What happened last night?” He looks at me then Nico.
“We got too drunk and started a fight,” I lie. It’s not the first time I’ve lied to my Dad; it’s like second nature. He eyes me suspiciously then lets go of my hand.
“Cut the prospected badges off, replace them with these.” He throws two members badges in front of us. “Don’t make me regret this.”
He walks out with Mars.
“Holy shit. We’re fully fledged members.” Nico grins.
“You almost blew it.”
“Fuck you, Striker. Your dad scares me.”
Everyone’s scared of my dad except me, and I’m the one who probably should be scared of him the most.
Putting the prospect badge in the trash, a power rush comes over me. This will all be mine. I’ll run this town.
Then where will little Miss Denver hide?
Chapter Four
Daria
Six weeks later…
The night after sleeping with the biker, I told Jess everything. She was mad as hell and called him everything under the sun. She asked me for his name, but I’m not telling her because she’ll go full-blown psycho on his ass and I don’t want her getting hurt. All I told her was that he had bright, intense blue eyes, and a cabinet of knives. She seemed to know who I was talking about just from that description and started firing off texts like a mad woman.
Now, six weeks later, I’ve been off school all week with some sort of stomach bug and Mom is dragging me out.
“Come on, Daria. We don’t have all night to wait for you,” Mom shouts from outside my room.
We’re going out tonight to celebrate Dad’s birthday, but I’m making us all late by throwing up everywhere. Wiping my mouth, I make my way out to be greeted by my mother. “We really need to get you booked in for a spray tan.” She walks away with me trailing behind her like a sheep, too tired to argue with her.
“Are you feeling okay, pumpkin?” Dad frowns at me, placing the back of his hand on my forehead.
“She’s fine. She should stop eating all those carbs before going to bed and she wouldn’t be sick.” Mom looks me up and down like I’m something she just dragged out of the trash.
“She is a little hot, Denise. Maybe we should just stay home. I don’t really want to go out to celebrate getting old.” Dad pulls me to his side.
“What? No, we’re going out to celebrate, Nicholas,” Mom insists. “Besides, the table is already booked and the Jeffersons are there waiting for us.”
“Dad, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” I plaster on my ever-present fake smile.
“See, she’s fine. Now, come on.” Mom ushers us out towards the car.
God help me.
&
nbsp; Dad looks down at me, concern all over his face. I know he worries about me. I remember when I had chicken pox; I swear our family doctor was sick of seeing me.
“You sure?” he asks me.
“I’m sure.”
We’re shown to our table where Jake and his parents are waiting on us. They all stand when we get closer.
“Happy birthday, Nick.” Mr. Jefferson shakes Dad’s hand. They’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. He kisses Mom’s cheek and pulls me in for a hug. “You okay, Daria?” He looks down at me with concern. “You look wiped.”
“She’s fine,” Mom answers before I can say anything. Jake walks up to me and kisses my cheek. I hold him longer than normal, but I need to feel him close to me.
We look round to see our parents staring at us. My face reddens with embarrassment.
“Eww.” Jake’s eight-year-old brother, Joseph, makes a gagging gesture. Sitting beside him, I ruffle his hair like I always do.
“You’ll be the same when you’re older.” Jake Snr. chuckles at his youngest son.
“No way. Girls have cooties.” He looks back down at his tablet, playing his game.
“Oh, yeah? What about Nicole? I heard you kissed her cheek the other day,” Jake teases.
“Jake, stop teasing your brother,” his mom scolds. “Nicole would be very lucky to have you.” She smiles down at Joseph before giving Jake a hard look. I wonder what that was all about.
“How are you feeling?” Jake draws shapes on my shoulder. Our parents are deep in conversation about which colleges Jake and I have applied for.
Like we’re going to get a choice.
“I’m okay.” I smile a little. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.
“Really, Daria? You look like you’re about to pass out cold.”
“I feel awful. I don’t know if I can stomach food right now.” I look over at Mom. “But I know I can’t get out of this without Mom saying I ruined the whole meal. Besides, I don’t want to let Dad down.”
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