by J. L. Beck
His lips twist into a grin. “Your pussy, did you use it the manipulate the dean? It wouldn’t surprise me. Master manipulators have a tendency to do that kind of thing. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
My teeth grind together… don’t say anything, don’t say anything… I tell myself, but my mouth pops open anyway, because who the hell does he think he is? My resolve snaps and I take a giant step forward pressing a finger into his very firm, very well defined chest.
“What is your problem? I didn’t lie about anything and I wouldn’t have been in the dean’s office if it wasn’t for you and your cruel little joke,” I yell, drawing attention from passersby.
His icy gaze drops down to where my finger is touching him, and he grabs said finger, tossing my hand back as if I’m a piece of garbage. He leans into my face, piss and vinegar marring his features. He’s like a bull that’s been poked with a hot branding iron and I’m the one holding it.
“You.” The growl that rumbles out of his chest vibrates through me. “You are my problem and until you leave, running back to wherever it is the fuck you came from, you will continue to be. Want it to stop, just say the word. Leave, and it will all end. Stay, and I’ll break you so badly you won’t even recognize yourself.”
My lips curl without thought, and even though I don’t have a mean bone in my body, I can’t help but say the first words that come to mind. “Fuck you, Vance. You don’t own me, or this school, so do your worst, you can’t break something that’s already broken.”
I’m not dumb, truly I’m not. I know I shouldn’t taunt him, push him, but it’s so hard to allow him to say the shit he is about me. His face turns emotionless and I shiver at the image before me. It’s worse than the icy gaze he was giving me moments ago.
“Checkmate, Ava, checkmate,” he whispers against the shell of my ear before shoving past me. I’m not a dog, and I won’t roll over and play dead. If he wants to hurt me, he’s going to have to try harder than that.
Not wanting to go home and face Vance yet, or worse yet nothing at all, I decide to do a little shopping. By the time I get home, the sun is setting, and my stomach is grumbling, demanding me to feed it. The shower is calling my name and I have a paper to write. Oh the joys of the first day of classes. I pull onto the long driveway that leads to the house and immediately see cars lined up along the road and in front of the house.
What the hell is going on?
I can already feel my blood boiling in my veins. People scurry across the driveway as I press the garage opener in my mom’s car, only to find there’s nowhere for me to park since there appears to be a game of beer bong taking place in my parking space.
He’s got balls… massive ones, if he thinks this is going to fly. And who has a house party on a Monday, anyway? Doesn’t anyone care about classes? Sleep? Throwing the car into park, I get out, my teeth grinding so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them cracks.
The music inside the house is so loud I can hear it outside, the ground shaking from the bass. This asshole is going to get the police called on us. My appearance draws the attention of a bunch of people that are standing in the yard, red cups in hand. A few of the girls sneer at me, while the guys stare at me like I’m a fawn entering the lion’s den.
Grabbing my shopping bags out of the car in a haste, I march up the walkway and onto the front porch. If this asshole thinks he can ruin me by doing some adolescent bullshit, then he’s got another thing coming. I’m shutting this shit show down, right now.
33
Vance
I feel her before I see her. That’s the strange thing about being drawn to someone you have no business being drawn to. You feel them deep inside you, like your soul is speaking what your mind refuses to acknowledge.
“Heads up, little stepsister alert. And she’s looking hot as fuck, and a little bit psycho,” Clark chuckles, a billow of smoke escaping his lips. Sarah is slung across my lap, acting as if she belongs there, and though she doesn’t, I don’t have the patience to tell her otherwise. She twirls a piece of blonde hair around her finger, looking bored.
She’s not who I want...who my blood sings for… As if my body knows she’s close, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A second later Ava appears in the foyer, her hands filled with bags, a scowl the size of Texas on her face. Like the perfect mix of drugs, her presence sends endorphins racing through my veins. It cripples me, making me weak, but it also gives me the edge I want. The edge I need to hurt her.
Her cheeks are dark pink, and frustration creases her forehead and I know I’ve hit my mark. The schedule switch was supposed to be a little fun, just something to humor myself, but then I heard she had befriended Jules Peterson, and I couldn’t have her thinking her first day turned out okay.
So like always, Clark came to the rescue with the back-to-school-bash. A few texts and the mention of free beer and word spread like herpes on spring break.
“Hey stepsister,” I greet with a smug smile. Her hands curl into tiny fists and she looks like she has the urge to throw her shopping bags at me. She’s kinda adorable when she’s mad, her mousy brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her outfit sexy, but not overly eye-catching. I bet she had a guy or two lusting after her today.
Sarah wiggles in my lap, her well-manicured hand running over my chest possessively. Normally I would tell her to cut it out, she means nothing to me, has no hold over me, but right now I don’t mind it so much, not when I see jealousy flash in Ava’s emerald eyes.
“How was your first day? Did you find all your classes alright?” A couple of the guys chuckle beside me.
“Great, thanks for asking,” Ava sneered sarcastically, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would really appreciate it if you could quiet it down. Most of us have classes tomorrow and I have homework already, so…”
The fuck? Who does she think she is? Obviously, I need to bring her down a couple notches, show her who is really in control here.
“What are you, eighty? Just go to your room and close the door. It’s not like you were invited, and if I don’t want to see you, then I can guarantee no one else in this room does.” I hate myself a little bit more as I say the words, because while they’re mean, they stoke the fire of resentment toward her.
“Baby,” Sarah coos, her feral gaze turning toward Ava. “Give her a break. This is a big change for her. I mean, I can’t imagine how hard it must be for trailer trash like her to suddenly be living in a nice place like this. Especially with her dad being in rehab and all. She’s probably over the moon.”
Sarah’s words almost wipe the smile off my face. Trailer trash? Rehab? If it wasn’t for the sudden change in Ava’s demeanor, I wouldn’t even believe Sarah’s words. But seeing Ava’s eyes fall to the floor and the slump of her shoulders tells me that it’s true and I swear to God if she starts to cry again, I might lose it.
“Go on… run up to your room… no one wants you here…” Sarah cackles, shooing her with her hands, and I feel the sudden urge to shove her off my lap and go to Ava. This is wrong, treating her this way, breaking her down. But it’s right too.
She deserves this, deserves to feel pain, sadness. No matter if her father is in rehab, she probably didn’t spend the last three of the five years we’ve been apart struggling. She probably had a good fucking life, probably still does even living here and that alone solidifies my choices. I can’t let doubt lead me astray. I won’t let it.
Clark exhales a long sigh beside me before shoving up from his seat. My mouth pops open, words piercing the edge of my tongue, but I don’t say shit. She’s fresh meat, and I hold no stake over her. If he wants to befriend her and fuck her into next week, then he can. It’s none of my business. I don’t care. Or at least I shouldn’t.
He leans down and whispers something into her ear. He’s close enough that if she turned at the right angle, their lips would touch, and for some reason, that pisses me off. Stupid, this is fucking s
tupid. Her being here, it’s toying with my emotions.
I try and force myself to look away, but I can’t. I’m transfixed on them, needing to know for sure that Clark doesn’t do something. Whatever he says to her causes her to shake her head, the movement slow and causing small wisps of hair to fall onto her face. She’s beautiful, so beautiful that it’s sickening. I want to brush those strands from her eyes, kiss her pink lips, feel her tiny body beneath mine.
Then as if she can feel my gaze on her, her eyes lift to mine. For a fraction of a second, our eyes meet… the world is suspended in time around us. It’s just her and I. I’m not the bully anymore, and she isn’t a victim to my rage. Clark’s mouth starts to move again, and the moment between us ends.
I see her lips form the word sorry, and then she’s walking out of the room, just as Sarah had instructed, thankfully leaving Clark behind. He twists around, a dazzling grin on his face. His hazel eyes filled with mischief. I’m not sure what I would’ve done had he followed her upstairs. He’s my best friend, yeah, but I don’t think I could’ve handled it, not without lashing out in some way.
“What a loser.” Sarah purses her red lips, throwing her arms around me while trying to place a kiss on my lips. Yeah, no. I don’t kiss, and if I did, it wouldn’t be Sarah. She’s had a lot of dicks pass her lips, and I’m not about kissing anyone that puts dick in their mouth like most chew gum. And with Ava out of sight, there’s no need to keep Sarah on my lap. My need for her presence is done.
“Get away from me,” I growl, unwrapping her arms from me before shoving her off of me and onto the couch cushion. She’s so surprised by the movement that she almost slides off the couch altogether. I feel dirty, filthy for the things I’ve said to Ava, and for letting Sarah sit on me like that. Like a small toddler that’s been told no, Sarah stands, stomping her wedged heel against the wooden floor.
“What are you doing, baby?”
“Stop calling me baby, in fact, keep my name out of your mouth. We’re not a couple. You suck my dick a couple nights a week, that’s it. Giving good head doesn’t make you girlfriend material, and while you have a pretty face, you have a shit fucking attitude. Now leave me the fuck alone.” I don’t even look at her, I know damn well she is glaring daggers at me, probably thinking about taking her shoe off and beating me with it. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.
Needing a drink, and some air, I get up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen. The place is a fucking disaster with open liquor bottles scattered across the countertop, and dirty glasses piled up in the sink. There’s trash laying around on the floor, as if that’s the place to be putting empty beer bottles when the perfectly empty trashcan is sitting right fucking here. Assholes. Though I would love to see my father’s face if he came home to this mess. He would shit bricks.
Ignoring all of that, I walk straight to the bottle of whiskey, find myself a cup and pour it into a glass. I’d drink right from the bottle, but that would be dangerous as fuck and I don’t want a recap of what happened last time I got drunk.
Ava doesn’t need to get any more ideas about the person I am. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder and I swing around, ready to slug whoever it is when my eyes meet Clark’s. Worry creases his forehead. The jackoff looks like he walked off the cover of a magazine. Where I’m ripped jeans, t-shirts, and boots, Clark is polos, designer jeans, and Nike.
We shouldn’t be friends at all, not even run in the same circles and yet I wouldn’t trade the fucker for the world.
“She’s fucking pissed,” he tells me, as if I don’t already know it.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “So? What’s your point? So was I when I found out she was a fucking lying pig. Don’t let her doe eyes fool you, she’s a lying bitch.”
Clark’s gaze widens a bit and I know he’s taken back by my words. Usually I’m not such a dick, but with Ava reappearing in my life, it seems a new shade of asshole has risen from inside of me.
“How long are you going to play this game? What’s the end result? Should I wait to sneak in to fuck her until after you’ve broken her?”
My jaw tightens. “First, it isn’t a game, second, the end result is always going to be the same. I won’t stop until she’s admitted that she lied. Until I feel that she’s suffered enough humiliation and disappointment.”
Clark nods. “And what if it’s never enough? Hurting her won’t change the past. She seems like a nice girl. I mean Sarah said her dad’s in rehab, maybe some shit went down that we don’t know about. I can find out - I mean if you want me to, that is.”
I can feel my hand curling around the cup. The temperature rising. Forcing myself to inhale, I take a gulp of the dark liquid, letting it burn down my throat, and settle deep inside my stomach. Instead of it cooling my body, it warms it, making me feel ten times hotter than I already am.
“She seems like a nice girl, because that’s what she wants you to see. Nice girls don’t lie. They don’t destroy families for fun. Nice girls are nice. Ava isn’t nice. As for the past, it might not change what happened, but it’ll certainly make me feel better.” I bring the cup to my lips again and swallow down the rest of its contents.
My insides are blanketing with warmth once more, the dull ache in my chest becoming less noticeable.
“And what about her father? Do you want me to…?” Clark’s voice trails off as the lights flick off and the room goes dark. Panic ensues, and people start running for the door, the sounds of screams and feet stomping across the wood floor fill the room. I don’t move though. I let everyone filter out first.
What. The. Fuck.
“What the hell? How did you lose power?” Clark asks, a perplexed look on his face. There’s an uptick in my blood pressure, a shift in the air. I can taste the rush of adrenaline. Gritting my teeth, I crumple the cup in my hand as if it’s a piece of paper.
She wouldn’t...would she? Not unless she had a death wish, right?
Who am I kidding, she would, and I suppose I wouldn’t expect any less of her after the way Sarah embarrassed her. But nonetheless, this is my party and my fucking house, and if she’s going to shut down my shit for the night, then she’s going to have to entertain me in other ways. I hope she’s the praying type because she’s going to need all the prayers she can get.
“Make sure everyone gets the fuck out. I don’t want any stragglers left behind. I’m going to take care of the brat,” I tell Clark, and swipe at my bottom lip with my thumb. I toss the cup onto the counter and stomp off in the direction of the garage, little tendrils of excitement slither down my spine.
This cat and mouse game we’re playing has my cock permanently hard. I’ve never been so hard for a girl before, let alone one that I hate. It’s like my body isn’t getting the fucking memo. She’s not worthy of my dick, no matter how soft, how beautiful, how tempting she is.
As I suspected, the door is closed when I reach it. Grabbing onto the knob, I twist it, the lock firmly in place. That fucking witch. Anger slithers through me like a fire spreading through a forest after a drought, devouring everything it touches.
Taking a step back, I look at the door one last time. I could kick the fucker in, but I’ve got a better idea. Retreating down the hallway off the kitchen, I stop and lean against the wall, waiting, watching. The house grows quiet, so quiet I can almost hear myself think.
I lick my lips, the anticipation building.
My cock is rock hard. The words I’m going to say right on the edge of my tongue.
She has to come out eventually.
The minutes tick by… she probably thinks she’s safe, that I’ve run off, but no way in hell am I letting her push me out of my own house. Nope, tonight Ava Wilder is going to pay, she’s going to give me a slice of that sweet little body of hers.
Patience isn’t really my strong suit, but I’ll wait knowing that the reprieve will be worth it. After a short while, a noise perks my ears, the sound of the lock disengaging, and the knob twisting. The ha
llway is submerged in near darkness, the moonlight coming from a nearby window allowing a sliver of light inside, though none of it reaches the wall I’m leaning against. I can hear her tiny steps. Unsure, weary.
Come closer…
I hold my breath, making sure she doesn’t hear me before she sees me. I’d hate to ruin the surprise. She takes two more steps before she comes into view, her eyes skidding over her shoulder as if she’s watching for someone, waiting for someone.
Too bad she doesn’t realize that she’s already being hunted. My eyes roam over her, eyeing up the prey. She takes one more step, it’s tiny, uncertain and I pounce as a loud shriek rips from her throat and I grab her by the shoulders and push her against the nearest wall.
“Did you really think you could do shit like this without consequences? Who do you think you are?”
Her tiny nose wrinkles, her eyes narrowing as she stares at me with disgust. “Who do I think I am? Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that? You’re the one acting like you’re above everybody else. Like you’re some king when you aren’t. For once, someone’s knocked you down a peg or two...”
Color me fucking shocked. The girl found some courage, though she’s not hiding her fear beneath it all that well, the slight tremor in her voice giving her away. Letting me know that my presence still terrifies her.
She’s brave talking to me this way, taunting me. If she wants me to bite, then I’ll bite, and I’ll bite fucking hard. I’ll draw blood. I’ll leave a scar, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, was leave a scar just like the one she left on me.
“Maybe I’m not above all else, but I’m definitely above you,” I sneer, leaning into her face. She twists in my grasp and tries to shove me away with her hands, but being stronger than her, I easily keep her pinned to the wall.
She’s like a gnat, and I’m an elephant. If I don’t want her out, I’ll squish her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I tilt my head, not really caring to hear her response. I’m just not ready for this game between us to end.