by Lily White
Renee nudged my shoulder with her own, her dark eyes twinkling with humor as she lifted her wine glass from the bar top to follow Dizzy and me to a back table. She hadn’t changed in the ten years since I’d seen her last. Still tiny, she wore her hair in the same sleek style, her face still bright as ever despite the passage of years. Dizzy and her were made for each other, their love story beginning in junior year when they met.
Sliding into the round booth corner table, I took in the environment. Majori’s was one of those places most people preferred, but to me, it was just another overpriced establishment that tried too hard to appear eclectic, the trendiness wearing on me until I wanted to run screaming to a hole in the wall bar to peer through thick smoke at whatever jazz or blues band was playing that night.
If it were up to me, I’d be tucked away elsewhere with a cold beer in hand, lost to shadows while enjoying a place that wasn’t pretending to be something it wasn’t. But Renee had wanted the glitz and glamour - a break from her life in Sheldon. I was all to happy to oblige whatever she wanted.
“So, you took off so quick back at the store that you didn’t tell me why you’re in town.”
Dizzy watched me, his long fingers spinning his drink over the surface of the table as he spoke.
Flashing him a tight smile, I continued scanning my eyes over the crowd, taking in the men in their flashy suits and the women who clung on their arms. “Hastings hosted its summer program in Tampa this year. I’m one of the two teachers who will be selecting the scholarship student.”
Sinatra crooned from the speakers above our heads, lights dancing over the crowd as I turned to look at him and Renee. “Hastings asked that I teach this particular class since I’m originally from the area.”
My best friend knew me too well. “You didn’t want to come back, did you?”
I tapped my thumb against the side of my glass, the condensation cool against my skin. “You know how it is. Memories suck. But,” I sighed relaxing back in my seat, “I can’t run from them forever.”
Nodding, Dizzy’s eyes met mine, understanding softening the rims. He turned to Renee, bumped her shoulder with his. “Did I ever tell you how this ugly son of a bitch and I became friends?”
Renee’s lip curled into a smile, her eyes rolling. “Only about a thousand times. I’ve heard it so much, I could tell it like I was there.”
In fourth grade, Dizzy and I had bonded over our unfortunate names. Charles Jennison loved Jazz, and had stolen the name of one of his favorite musicians to hand it over to his son. My father was a Beatles fan, stealing away a last name for my moniker.
The teacher had called role that first morning in class and we’d looked at each other and laughed. We were inseparable from that moment on, spending the majority of our days running the streets or tucked away in the music store learning all there was to know about the instruments. My focus had always been on piano, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t play brass or strum a guitar. We made short work of whatever we could get our hands on.
Sliding my glass across the table, I clinked it against Dizzy’s. “Did you know I was almost mugged in your parking lot the other day?”
His eyes snapped to mine, concern tightening his lips. “Are you fucking with me?”
Laughter crawled up my throat. “No. I got my wallet back, so don’t worry, but the girl who attempted to lift it ended up being a student in my class.”
“What?” Dizzy shook his head. “Did you boot her on day one?”
Taking a sip of my drink, I grinned. “I would have loved to. The only problem is she’s one of the best students in my class.” A fucking knockout as well, but I kept the thought to myself. “Her parents are James and Lila Dillon.”
Dizzy’s brows knit together, recognition setting in. “Ah, hell. They taught your sister, didn’t they?”
“They did.”
“Then what was their daughter doing in Sheldon? I remember them living in that gated community, Tropical Isle, or whatever it was called.”
The same question had floated across my thoughts as soon as Amelia admitted where she’d learned to play. The Dillons were well off when Emaline learned the piano, my parents making the forty minute drive twice a week for her lessons.
“I have no idea. Amelia’s not perfect, in her music or her behavior. She needs a good teacher and a lot of discipline, but I think she has the potential to become a star.”
Dizzy sat back. “Well, if anybody can teach her, it’s you. I know you can be a hard ass when it comes to music.”
I could be a hard ass in many ways, but not all of them could apply to a young girl who was ten years younger than me. Her age alone should have been a deterrent, but she was also a student. In every way, she was dangerous.
Still, it bothered me that I couldn’t get Amelia off my mind. So much so that when I glanced out through the crowd, I refused to believe I saw her coming through the front doors and heading to the bar. She was too young to drink, and the dress the woman wore should have been illegal.
It had to be my imagination, exhaustion wearing on me from being back near my hometown. I blinked my eyes to clear the image of her from my head, but when I looked at her again, I recognized her timid, teal eyes scanning quickly over the crowded bar.
What the hell?
My head had to be playing tricks on me, a symptom of obsessive thoughts about a girl who I couldn’t touch. Yet, there she sat, her legs crossed, her tits practically falling out of the dress. The bartender slid a drink her direction and she smiled before picking it up. Obviously nervous, she took a sip and kept her head down, the length of her dark hair shielding her face.
Renee and Dizzy were talking about something, their laughter mingling with the din of conversation and music blasting from the speakers.
Had Amelia come here to drink alone? I hadn’t pegged her for the type, but what did I know? The only conversations I had with her were antagonistic and short. What I did know is that I wanted to rip the eyes out of every man who looked at her like a piece of meat, while also joining those same men in appreciating her curves in a dress that was no more than a tiny scrap of cloth.
Her body was built for sin despite the way she played the piano like a damn angel. I was about five seconds away from storming across the room toward her so I could wrap my jacket across her shoulders and shield her from view.
“Lennon. Hey, did we lose you?”
Tearing my eyes from her, I glanced back at Dizzy. “Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew.”
While Dizzy launched into a story about the students he taught, my eyes kept sneaking back to Amelia. She remained in her seat for twenty minutes with nobody to talk to. Nursing her drink, she kept tossing hesitant peeks across the room, her eyes almost spotting me before I turned my head to hide my face.
Nodding at what Dizzy said, I barely heard a single word, my focus fixated on a girl who had no business being here. Looking back, I stilled to see a tall guy whispering into her ear.
Dressed head to toe in black, he made a quick comment before Amelia’s eyes drifted right at another man approaching the bar. Standing from her seat, she moved closer to the second man while the first took off to leave the bar.
Granted, I hadn’t known her long enough to guess the type of guy she usually went for, but I hoped she would be more interested in a man like me than a pudgy businessman who looked old enough to be her father. To each their own, but something about this was rubbing me the wrong way.
“Lennon-“
Returning my attention to Dizzy, I couldn’t ignore the need to watch her, my eyes continuously drifting right while I struggled to listen to what my friend had to say. Losing the battle, my focus was on Amelia again, my gaze arrowing directly to where the man ran his grubby hand up her naked thigh.
Bristling to see him touch her, my hand clenched around my drink. There was no way in hell she was enjoying it. A quick check of her tight expression only proved I was right. Normally when a woman wanted sex, her e
yes become soft, her shoulders relax and her mouth is an easy, sultry smile. Yet to look at Amelia, you’d believe she was in a dentist’s chair or being led to the executioner.
Tension bled from her with painful rigidity, her eyes clenching every time the man’s hand inched higher up her thigh. Color draining from her face, she allowed him to reach up and caress the side of her breast, casually leaning away from him rather than pressing forward into the touch.
Rage flooded me when I finally understood what I was seeing. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the subtle nuances, the inconsistencies that painted the picture of a young girl being used, her pimp pointing out her next customer. What the fuck was going on that she would have to resort to this for money?
From what I knew her parents were well off, but I knew her mother had died. Eleven years ago, if I wasn’t mistaken, her father taking over my sister’s lessons once Lila could no longer teach.
The second the man’s lips touched hers, my jaw ticked and I fought not to jump from my seat. How many times has she done this? Was she even doing it willingly? Who the fuck was that asshole who’d pointed her in the other guy’s direction?
The man paid for their drinks and they stood up, his hand gripping her arm like she was a possession to be used more than a young woman. There was no way in hell I could let him leave with her.
Tapping my hand on the table, I excused myself. “I’m going to hit the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.”
Shooting me a funny look, Dizzy grinned. “We’ll be here.”
I was out of my seat before he could finish speaking. Working my way through the crowd, I felt like a stalker prowling after Amelia, but I had to see where she was going, had to know if she was selling her body.
Slipping out the front doors, I ignored the wave of humid heat that assaulted me, my eyes scanning the dark parking lot until I noticed movement to my right.
My head snapped in their direction just as they turned to walk down a side alley. It only pissed me off more to think she would service that guy right next to the dumpsters.
I wasn’t just going to redden her ass, I was going to make sure that she couldn’t sit down for a week without thinking of me and my demand she stop doing stupid crap.
Boots thudding against the pavement, I marched in the direction of the alley, my hands fisted at my sides and the muscle in my jaw leaping with the clench of my teeth. I turned just in time to watch Mr. Pudgy shove Amelia against a brick wall to lift her skirt. It disgusted me to see her treated so poorly, to see her allowing anyone to shove her around like she wasn’t worth an ounce of respect.
Taking one step into the alley with the intent to teach the son of a bitch manners, I was beaten to the punch by two thugs in black hoodies. Literally. Both of them jumped the guy while Amelia dodged right to pull her skirt over her ass and head in my direction. So busy looking back at the man being mugged, she didn’t notice I was standing in her path until she was right up on me.
My fingers locked over the back of her neck, a startled squeak volleying from her throat as she struggled to break free of my hold. Our eyes met, mine swimming with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, while hers widened with shock, understanding sinking in quickly that I’d just caught her involved in yet another crime.
“Mr. Carter, I-“
The excuse fizzled like a deflating balloon, the truth of what she was doing clearly evident from the ongoing beat down still occurring at the other end of the alley. Leaning down to growl against her ear, I ordered, “Walk back to the front of the bar and wait for me. If you are not there when I return, you can forget about returning to class tomorrow. Understand me?”
Her voice was a terrified whisper. “What are you going to do?”
It took effort to unlock my fingers from her neck so she could go. “Do as I say. Now.”
Stalking off, she cast me a worried look over her shoulder, her heels clicking over the ground in her retreat.
It wasn’t that I felt sorry for the guy who’d thought he could use Amelia for sex. Maybe he deserved the beating he was getting. Still, I couldn’t leave him there to get killed. “Hey!”
My voice caused both of his attackers to turn toward me, the hood having fallen from the head of one, his face knocking me back into a past I was still running from. A punch to the chest, that face, the features ones I swore to never forget should our paths cross again. A renewed wave of rage tore through me.
I hadn’t seen him since before my sister died, but every detail of his face was still clear in my mind. The promise of revenge rolled through me, the day finally coming when I could get even with the asshole who had broken Emaline’s heart.
“Come here.”
Not that they would listen. Instead they took off running in the opposite direction, my legs pounding beneath me as I chased them into an open parking lot, dodging cars to catch up.
Unlike Amelia, they both were faster than me, their agility making it easy for them to lose me within seconds. I was left spinning in circles, my eyes narrowed on shadows, the blood rushing from my fingers from the strength of my fists.
“Fuck!”
The one word echoed over the empty lot, my booted steps heavy as I returned to the man now lying in the alley with blood pouring from his nose and multiple cuts in his face.
Crouching beside him, I shook him by the shoulder. “You okay?”
“Those fuckers took everything. My phone, my wallet, my keys.”
He looked like he was going to cry. I didn’t feel sorry for him. It served him right since he thought he could treat a woman like she was nothing but a piece of meat.
“I’ll have the bar call the cops for you, as well as an ambulance. Do you need help getting up?”
Shaking his head, he sat up and leaned back against the wall. I didn’t want to add insult to injury given that the guy would be hurting for a few weeks to come, but it had to be said.
“Remember this the next time you want to take a young girl into an alley for an easy fuck. You wouldn’t be here right now if you’d kept your hands to yourself.”
Struggling to open his swelling eyes, he attempted to glare at me.
I pushed to my feet and walked away to find Amelia waiting where I told her to be. Her arms were crossed over her chest, mascara dripping down her cheeks with each fat tear. Ignoring her long enough to tell the bouncer to call the cops about the man mugged in the alley, I wrapped my hand over the back of her neck to lead her to my car.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Grinning, I did give much of a fuck to answer anything. “You’re not exactly in a position to be demanding information at the moment.”
No. If anybody was going to do that, it was me. But only in the privacy of my car. Where we would go from here? I hadn’t gotten that far in my thinking, but I knew it would be someplace where I would be the one demanding answers.
Unlocking my door, I stepped aside and motioned for her to climb in. “Get in the car, Amelia.”
Eyes narrowed on my face, she scowled and stepped back as if to run.
“I wouldn’t try it. As we already know, I’m faster than you, and you won’t get very far in your stripper heels. Don’t try me right now. Just get in the fucking car.”
“Where are you taking me?”
The truth was I had no idea. “Get in.”
With another huff, she finally did as I said and climbed into the Escalade. I tried to ignore the way her ass cheeks peeked out from beneath her skirt, had to grab the leg of my pants to keep from reaching forward to tug the dress down the backs of her thighs. Or, hell, shove it up higher.
Slamming the door, I managed to do neither, my stride quick as I rounded the back en route to the driver’s seat.
Once we were both seated inside, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling at her.
The engine roared to life, the wheels giving a little squeak over the pave
ment when backing out. Tool blasted through the speakers – a wall of music preventing me from immediately interrogating her.
It wasn’t until we were on the road that I remembered Dizzy and Renee. Thankfully they’d driven their car and weren’t stranded because of a stupid little girl who was in serious need of an attitude readjustment.
Waiting until we reached a light, I tapped out a quick text to Dizzy telling him something came up and I had to dip. I didn’t wait for a response before shoving my phone in my pocket and turning to glare at my hostage.
Amelia sat hunched over in her seat, arms crossed over her chest and her skirt riding up her lap a little too far to be comfortable. It was an unwelcome distraction, one I forced myself to ignore so I could drive.
I was caught between wanting to take her over my lap and teach her why pretty girls shouldn’t be committing back alley crimes, and pulling the damn car over to lock my hand over her throat while demanding the name of the two punks she was working with.
One of them had led to my sister’s death. One of them was the nameless face I’d been hoping to see again for ten long years.
Taking a deep breath, I regained control of myself with the intention of keeping her with me until all my questions were answered.
I turned down the music and waited for her to look at me, her timid eyes slowly sliding my direction as she sat shivering in her seat.
Grinning to have her full attention, I asked, “Do you want to tell me what happened back there? Or would you prefer I take an educated guess?”
Amelia
Kissing Sam had made me sick. I didn’t know if it was the scrape of his fingers up my legs that caused my stomach to roll, or the bucketfuls slobber he dumped in my mouth as if he were bailing out a sinking ship.
It could have been the suffocating scent of his cologne, or maybe just my nerves for what I knew would happen to him. By the time we’d walked out of the bar and into the shadow of the alley, bile crawled up my throat, an acidic taste that choked me while my forehead was scraped against the rough brick wall.
In the moment when my skirt was lifted up above my ass and Sam’s scrambling, greedy fingers dug between my legs like a desperate miner looking for that last nugget of gold, I had actually believed nothing that happened tonight could be much worse.