The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  Chapter 10

  Amelia, 15

  Sunday

  BANG, BANG, BANG!

  “Millie!”

  A voice shouting from outside wakes me suddenly and I bolt upright in bed before realizing my head feels like something crawled in through my ear and has been yanking at my brain ever since. I think I have a sugar hangover from all the crap Mercy and I ate yesterday. I rub my eyes and groan as soon as the light hits my retinas from my open curtains.

  “Millie! Open the damn door, will you?”

  The voice is deep, friendly, and somewhat familiar, so I grab my clock and look at the time. It’s half ten on a Sunday morning, so not too slovenly, especially considering all the shit I’ve recently been through. The voice shouts out again, apparently not giving up, so I slide out of bed and amble along the corridor until I reach the stairs. The banging starts up again and I try racking my brain, attempting to ascertain as to who the hell this is. Obviously one stubborn bastard with no fucks-given over waking me or the neighbors upon the Sabbath.

  “MILLIE!” he yells just as I reach the door, causing me to practically jump out of my skin. This is when I really wish we had one of those peepholes, but we don’t, so I’ll have to take my chances and open the door blindly.

  “Gabe?!” I cry out at the sultry-looking badass boy with a leather jacket and biker boots, who is now grinning affectionately my way. He immediately steps forward and picks me up in an all-encompassing bear hug, with his floppy dark hair hanging over his forehead and brushing against my cheek. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well, hello to you too, Sugar,” he drawls cheekily and walks past me into the kitchen. He looks around as though checking no one else is here, before dumping a bag on the floor and sliding onto one of the breakfast-bar stools. His body language suggests he is totally at ease with making himself at home, which is more than OK with me.

  “Didn’t Grant tell you?” I tell him matter of factly and fold my arms in front of me, “I practically live alone now.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” he mumbles, “though I would dearly love to kick your father’s ass!”

  I nod in agreement, remembering everything Matt had told me the other night with a grimace. This image morphs into Gabe and his rock-hard boots going to town on my father, and I find myself smirking. Right now, I’d pay to see that show. Alas, Dad’s probably already boarding a flight to somewhere exotic and hot, so I settle for getting a couple of mugs from the cupboard, ready to make him a coffee. I already know how he likes it, milky and sweet, so there’s no need to ask.

  “Anyway, Sugar, guess who’s coming to stay with you this summer?” I whip my head up to see his friendly grin beaming from ear to ear as I furrow my brow at him. Upon my nonresponse and a look of confusion, he shoves his thumb into his chest, “Yours truly, by personal request of your brother.”

  “That really isn’t necessary,” I quickly reply, “no one needs to look after me.”

  “Oh, contraire, Sugar,” he grips the mug I’ve just given him, then inhales the scent like he hasn’t drunk for days, “I’ve heard what life has been like for you since Grant got taken away and I’m not having it. So, you leave any assholes to me, ok? Besides, you’d be doing me a favor.”

  “Oh?” I ask as I lean against the breakfast bar and take a good helping of tea to help wake me up.

  “You’re not the only one with shitty parents,” he scoffs, “can’t wait to get to college so I can be as far away from them as possible.”

  “Well, sure, I guess,” I mumble, “you can put your stuff in the guest room if you like?”

  “Cool,” he says and stretches up to reveal toned inked abs. I immediately blush at the sight and turn away to go and sit on the sofa so he doesn’t catch me ogling him. Gabe has always been attractive and ever so comfortable with the opposite sex; one might say too comfortable. He follows me over, sitting on the other sofa and managing to take up the whole thing by allowing his limbs to sprawl out like an ape hanging from the trees, baring everything without a single care.

  “Christ, Millie, you’re all grown up!” he grins cheekily, “Kind of regretting my promise not to go near you.”

  “I’ve heard all about you and the ladies, Gabe,” I tell him with my own cheeky smile, “I really don’t know where you’ve been!” I giggle and he mocks offense before smiling back at me with a shrug of indifference. I know I have nothing to worry about with him. He’s not even friend-zoned, he’s brother-zoned!

  “Fancy going to that diner in town for breakfast?” he asks, “My treat. We can take my bike; I have a spare helmet.”

  “Hell yes!” I answer excitedly like a little girl, “Let me go and get dressed. Damn Gabe, you have no idea how much I need someone like you here at right now.”

  “Should be Grant though, right?” We share a saddened look and take a moment to acknowledge the elephant in the room. “Go get dressed, Sugar!”

  Riding on the back of Gabe’s bike is nothing short of amazing, so much so, it has me picturing getting my own motorcycle because the rush is mind-altering. Let’s just say Gabe is a very skilled rider and holding onto his ripped body makes me feel like riding by the seat of my pants, dipping low towards the asphalt while zipping in and out of traffic. I can totally see myself donning a pair of heavy, black, badass boots and a killer leather jacket. Then see how Bowie tries it on with me. I might even go all out and get a few tats and piercings in inappropriate places, who is there to stop me?!

  My mental makeover is cut short by our arrival at the one diner within a ten-mile radius, where nearly the whole town seems to be parked up. I guess that’s Sunday mornings for you. Not that this stops my very own biker boy from pushing us forwards so we can nab the first table to become available. It seems to happen so quickly no one notices as we cut the queue. The guy’s clearly a master of stealth. The first thing he does is push the morning papers away with a sneer, particularly as it has a picture of Grant on the front, complete with a headline detailing his arrest and subsequent sentencing.

  “Don’t read that shit Sugar,” he mutters just as the waitress passes by and practically dribbles over Gabe in his tight jeans and black v-neck top. He is the definition of a sexy badass biker dude but it’s his confidence that makes women drop to their knees and worship at his feet. He flirts effortlessly with her, to the point where it makes me giggle when I see her features melt into a swoon. It’s like he possesses magical powers that can turn women into a stupor. I wonder if later they think back on it and try to work out what the hell happened to their senses when that sexy guy had them begging like a dog, just by uttering the word ‘Hi’.

  “You’re wicked,” I grin, “and a perfect man whore!”

  “Don’t hate the player, hate the game!”

  He raises his hands defensively in the air while simultaneously giving me one of his shit-eating grins, the only one to rival that of Bowie’s.

  “I’ll be back in a bit, just gotta go to the little girl’s room,” I tell him, scooting out of the seat and still laughing over Gabe’s propensity to make women go weak at the knees with little to no effort.

  “Not so little now, Sugar,” he says with fuck me eyes.

  “Don’t try it with me, Gabe!” I point accusingly at him, “I am impervious to your superpowers!”

  Going to the bathroom was an incredibly stupid idea, because as soon as I make an exit, I come face to face with a large crowd of the cool kids from school, consisting mainly of the football team and their significant others. I say ‘significant’, but I bet half of them will have changed next week. I honestly have no idea why girls fall for these kinds of idiots. Surely a hot bod and a more than healthy ego isn’t all it takes for them to drop everything and give in to their every whim, is it?

  Then I think of Gabe and his effect on the opposite sex and it has me shivering over the thought of one day becoming that weak when it comes to a certain type of man. Worse than that, it would seem it’s a condition one doesn’t
appear to grow out of.

  “Here’s to victory and justice!” Bowie shouts out unashamedly as he holds up the paper that Gabe had pushed aside not five minutes ago. “Not even the bastard’s parents want him!”

  Matt and I spot each other almost immediately, shortly followed by the bitchy blonde currently draped all over him. He shuffles nervously, almost trying to distance himself from his girlfriend, just as she begins to whisper things into Melody’s ear, all the while casting her narrow little slits my way. What a shocker! Chloe and Melody have teamed up nicely to both hate me just as much as Bowie does.

  Taking in a deep breath, I decide to don the whole ignoring them strategy, hoping to slide by without anyone else noticing my presence. I hold my head up high, look straight ahead, where I can just about spy Gabe’s floppy, black hair hunched over a menu, and continue to walk straight past them. However, the ensuing silence tells me I haven’t quite been so successful in my plan to try and escape unnoticed.

  “Fridge!” Bowie calls out, sounding thoroughly delighted to have caught me, all the while his subjects laugh at his jovial greeting. “Get my flowers on Friday?”

  I keep my eyes fixed firmly ahead of me, still sticking with the original plan to ignore him and walk straight back to my table. Being the kind of asshole he is, he forces my attention by grabbing hold of my wrist and spinning me around to face him.

  “Hey Baby, don’t be like that,” he pouts, then smirks wickedly, “tell me, did you cry when you heard the news? Did you need someone to comfort you?”

  I look away from his jeering expression, but he only steps in closer before flapping my diary out of his back pocket. It causes me to wonder if he takes the damn thing with him everywhere he goes, just on the off chance he might see me, and won’t miss out on an opportunity to throw it in my face.

  “Did you need this to write in? ‘Dear diary, my brother is a perv and I can’t stop jacking myself off to his victim’s brother!’”

  He pretends to gasp and everyone, besides Matt, laughs all the louder. Matt pushes Chloe away from him, then jumps out of his booth to say something, but it’s the low growl from behind me that makes them all drop into sudden silence.

  “Get your fucking hands off my girl!” Bowie’s brow furrows as he looks over towards the threatening voice coming from behind me. Gabe clamps hold of my shoulders and gently pulls me back into his leather-encased chest, prompting Bowie to finally let go of my wrist.

  “Who the hell are you?!” Bowie bites back, clearly irritated by this intimidating intruder.

  His confused, pissed-off expression is enough to have me fighting back the urge to smile, even when Matt appears at his side, looking just as perplexed by Gabe’s appearance. Chloe and Melody, who are obviously not averse to Gabe’s usual effect on women, are now practically melting under his formidable figure. You can almost see them silently questioning what the hell this badass biker is doing with the high school outcast.

  “I’m the guy who’s going to pound your face if you dare come near my girlfriend again!” Gabe snarls at him through clenched teeth.

  Now I do smile, because the added touch of being his girlfriend is genius, especially when they all collectively gasp. Well played, Gabe!

  “He’s your boyfriend?” Matt asks with horror written all over his face. “When did this happen?”

  “What fucking business is it of yours?” Gabe turns towards my best friend, all heat and anger now being directed towards Matt, who looks like I’ve just wrenched out his heart and cut it open with a pair of blunt scissors.

  “Gabe, this is my best friend, Matt,” I gesture to him, placing my hand softly on top of his forearm, which feels tense with rage.

  “Friend?!” Gabe scoffs, “Wait a minute! He’s your friend? Yet he’s hanging out with these assholes who are giving you hell. I don’t think so!” Matt withers guiltily while Bowie stands defiant, jutting his chin out at the new alpha before him. “As for you, you little shit, if I so much as hear you breathed near my girl again, I’m gonna gather up my motorcycle buddies, and together we will beat the living shit out of you. You feel me?”

  “You need your buddies to come and help you out or something?” Bowie retorts, trying to act the unfazed bully in all of this, and for some unknown reason, I find myself silently telling him to stop being such an idiot and to shut the hell up.

  Gabe pulls me behind his back protectively before stepping forward and getting all up in Bowie’s face. He’s still looking defiant and just as angry as the man now stood in front of me.

  “Nah, I could rough you up myself but seeing as you like to pick on girls half your size, I thought I’d share in the pleasure of wiping that shit-eating grin off your face!”

  A few tense moments pass by and I swear I see a few of the other customers creeping over to watch the showdown between Gabe and Bowie. Mouths drop open when Bowie finally decides to back down and take a step away, probably for the first time in his entire life.

  “Give the lady back her diary as well, asshole!” Gabe demands and I hold my breath just as Bowie reluctantly chucks my little book of horror onto the table next to us. Letting out my long-held breath of relief, I grab it, then squirrel it away before it has a chance to be taken again. “Good boy,” Gabe taunts him. “Come on, baby,” he says to me and takes my hand to lead us back to our table.

  I feel like the whole diner is watching our backs while we walk over to where we were sitting, not returning to their original volume of chatter until Gabe picks up the menu he had been browsing.

  “Damn you’re scary when you want to be, aren’t you?” I laugh when I see his face return to its normal laid-back, cheeky expression, clearly having just enjoyed that little altercation.

  “That guy…Matt? Is he sweet on you or something?” he asks as soon as the waitress takes our order, still eyeballing Gabe, but now looking a little envious of me.

  “He was, but then he got a girlfriend, the blonde over there,” I explain, “but I don’t know. I feel bad because we’ve known each other for years and when I found out he liked me, I couldn’t feel anything for him, not like that anyway.”

  “Poor bastard, I guess that’s why he’s being a shit friend then?” I just shrug, thinking how complicated it all is.

  “And the lead asshole with the chip on his shoulder?”

  “Is Sam’s brother,” I explain, and he nods slowly as if now understanding what his problem is, “but he’s always been malicious to me.”

  “Well that one’s easy, Sugar,” he says before taking a mouthful of the bread that has just arrived. I must look confused because he smirks like I’m clueless in the world of boys and feelings, which I admit, I totally am. “That’s the classic ‘I like you, my best mate likes you, you’re having none of it, so the only way I can have you is to be horrible to you.’”

  “So, he can be a complete bully because he likes me?” I snap, clearly irritated by this sort of bullshit reasoning.

  “As I said, don’t hate the player, hate the game!” he smiles cheekily. “Although with that guy you can totally hate the player because he really is an asshole!”

  After I’ve consumed a mountain of pancakes, making up for the last week or so of not being able to eat without feeling violently sick, we walk out of the diner together. Gabe pretends not to see the sneers and stares when we pass by the football team, who are still eating and drinking loudly in the window seats of the diner.

  We saunter over to his bike, gleaming in the morning sun and looking beyond beautiful. I suddenly get a pang of excitement over riding it again. However, just as Gabe reaches it first, he turns and leans against it with a wicked grin on his face, now donning a pair of sunglasses which only adds to his sex appeal.

  “What?” I smile nervously, “Why are you looking like that?”

  “We have an audience, Sugar,” he says, jutting his chin over towards the window. I already know who he’s talking about so don’t even bother to give them the satisfaction of looking. Instead, I
keep my eyes on Gabe and shrug. “Wanna give them a real show?”

  His brows rise theatrically before he slips his hands onto either side of my waist and pulls me in between his legs. Ho-lee shit! I’ve never done anything this physical with a guy before, and I have absolutely no idea how to handle such a situation. I remind myself to breathe and that it’s just Gabe. He must see the shock on my face because he leans in close to my ear and whispers, “Just pretend, Sugar!”

  Tentatively, I rest my trembling hands on top of his shoulders while he begins sucking on my earlobe, then flutters little kisses along my jawline, before settling on my neck. Now, I’m not gonna lie, it feels incredible to have his hands running over my ass, so much so, I instinctively move my arms around to the back of his neck to get closer. Eventually, he cups my cheek and presses his mouth against mine and we kiss for several moments. It’s warm, soft, tender and although I have no frame of reference, I can tell Gabe is one hell of a kisser.