by Logan Fox
That deliciously cool, creamy taste spills down my throat. I close my eyes and let out a happy sigh.
You’re not the girl you used to be, Candy Furey.
My eyes pop open. I gather my hair and slide it over my shoulder, so it lays on my chest.
Candy Bale is smart, sexy, and independent. She doesn’t cower at the mere thought of being alone with a boy. In fact, she can’t wait to see what it feels like.
I drain the rest of my cup, relishing that familiar sting in the back of my throat.
There’s a knock at the door. I’m still smiling when I open it and slip outside, brushing shoulders with the girl who’d been smirking at me when I walked past with Sean.
She’s still wearing a smug expression, but it slides right off her face when I grab her arm and turn her to face me. “Where’s the game room?” I ask.
She does a double-take and then shrugs sulkily. “Last door on the right.”
There’s a ton of smoke clinging to the air here—a cloying mixture of weed and vape and cigarettes—but at least my eyes have stopped tearing. I’m one of three girls in this room—the rest are all guys. Some are playing pool; a pair are battling it out on a console in front of a massive flat-screen television. The rest have congregated by the bar, laughing and joking in obnoxiously loud voices.
Sean and I are on one of the couches pushed against the wall, watching over the fun and games.
As soon as Sean saw I didn’t have a drink, he brought me another plastic cup filled with Irish cream.
It’s about half now—sipping at it keeps me from fidgeting. Fidgeting makes me look nervous. I don’t want to look nervous.
I recognize some of these guys from Josiah’s football practice. Most of them, in fact. Here, the downstairs music is little more than a thumping bass line. Instead, the rattatattattatta of live ammunition and the screams of the dying pierce the air—I really wish someone would ask the gamers to turn down the volume, but I’m apparently the only one bothered by the noise.
A guy comes up to us and holds out a joint to Sean. Sean doesn’t even hesitate. Cool air moves against my side as he sits forward to take a few pulls at the weed.
“Eric,” the guy says, sticking out a hand. “I’m friends with your brother.”
I dip my chin a little and shake his hand reluctantly. Shit. I guess there was no way Josiah wouldn’t have found out about me being here, but what are the chances I’d run into one of his friends?
I didn’t even know he had friends. It’s not as if he ever invites anyone over to the house and, outside of football practice, I’ve never even seen him talking to anyone at school. I thought he was a straight-up loner.
Like me.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, extricating my hand as soon as I can without seeming rude.
Sean passes the joint, not bothering to look in my direction. A tiny trail of smoke drifts from the tip as he holds it a foot away from my face.
“Jo here too?” Eric asks, reaching for the joint when he sees I’m not taking it.
I get to it first.
I know I shouldn’t mix. The alcohol’s already put me on my ass. But I’ll be damned if anyone thinks I’m a wet blanket, especially if this gets back to Josiah. I want him to know exactly how much fun I’m having.
“Please,” I say through a forced laugh. I take a sip from my drink first, and then gently tug at the joint. Acrid smoke spills down my throat, and I do my best not to cough. “He’d freak if he found out I was here.”
“Yeah, he would,” Sean says, speaking without exhaling. When he does, a cloud of smoke obscures Eric for a moment. “He’s a fucking pussy. If it’s not school or football, he’s not interested.” Sean barks out a laugh as he takes the joint from my unresisting fingers. “Bet he’s still a fucking virgin.”
It shouldn’t, but the comment stokes a slow swell of irritation inside me.
“It’s not him, you know,” I say, lifting my chin and making it sound like I actually know what the hell I’m talking about. “It’s his dad. That guy’s like super, super strict.”
“Really?” Eric says. He comes to sit beside me, and that forces me closer to Sean. “Fuck, I haven’t seen Mr. Bale in years. He used to come to all of Jo’s games. Guess he’s too busy banging your mom, hey?”
My cheeks catch alight. “I guess,” I mumble.
They lean back, passing the joint behind my back. It’s like they’re communicating—I can feel Eric’s muscles tensing as if he’s gesturing at Sean.
But a second later, they’re both sitting normally.
Duh—weed makes you paranoid. Idiot.
I smile into my cup as I take another sip. Damn, it’s hitting me faster than I remember. I’ve smoked before—some nights I couldn’t get to sleep without it—but since I’ve been at Josiah’s house, I haven’t touched the stuff.
It must be top shelf stuff too—my body grows lethargic, heavy, warm.
“That’s good shit,” I say, the words traveling through numb lips.
My spine melts, settling me back on the couch. I’m faintly aware that someone takes away my cup moments after something cool and wet spreads on my jeans. It takes monumental effort on my part, but I eventually manage to look down.
“Shit,” I say. “I made a mess.”
“It’s okay, babe,” Eric says, laying his hand on the large wet spot on my thigh. “We’re all friends here.”
“Yeah, but…I shouldn’t have smoked,” I say through a giggle. “That shit’s strong.”
“What, the weed or the crack?”
My heart thumps hard against my rib cage. Panic swells and then dissolves a moment later. “What?” I turn my head, squinting at Eric. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just enjoy it.”
I smile. Can’t he tell I’m enjoying it? So I grin.
He tucks my hair behind my ear with a finger and then holds out the joint again. “Another one for luck,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
“Yeah, but don’t you want to feel even better?” He sits forward a little, bringing his face within inches of mine. “You take another hit, I’ll give you a kiss. How does that sound?”
He’s not as handsome as Sean—he’s rather plain looking, in fact—but he does have pretty lashes and soft brown eyes. Is he a good kisser, though? I don’t want my first time to be with someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“What’s so funny, babe?” Eric asks, handing the joint past my shoulder. Why isn’t he smoking?
“Wondering if you’re a good kisser.” I stab a thumb behind me. “Or is Sean better?”
Eric’s face tightens at that. He pushes back a little and shrugs. “Guess you’ll never know,” he says coldly, his eyes moving away from me to scan the room.
“Hey man, relax,” Sean says through a laugh. “She’s fucking stoned.”
Eric purses his lips. “Yeah, well obviously not stoned enough.” His eyes flicker back, but they settle on Sean, not me. “Let me know when she is.” He gets up in a rush. I try to follow him through the crowd, but a moment later, Sean turns my head toward him.
“How you feeling?”
Now there’s a handsome face. Chiseled jaw, bright green eyes, a curving mouth. Not as good looking as Josiah, of course, but he gets his looks from his dad, and Mr. Bale is hot as fuck.
Sean leans in. His breath warms my face. “Can I kiss you?”
I nod.
He moves closer. “You sure?”
I smile and sit forward a little, closing my eyes. Instead of lips, his thumb brushes my mouth. My eyes pop open, and my body goes lame at the look on his face.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” his hand cups my face, holding me still. “Fucking gorgeous.”
I expected a thrill when our lips meet, but I barely feel a thing. My body still responds, though. I lean into him, doing my best to kiss him back without covering him in spit.
Am I doing this, right?
D
o I care?
God, I just want to go to sleep.
No, I don’t. But I do.
I’m laughing, and that’s made him stop kissing me.
“Hey man, what are you doing?” a voice demands from somewhere above.
Something moves between my legs. I reluctantly open my eyes.
Sean’s hand is sliding out between my thighs.
I hadn’t even felt it there. Why is my body so numb? There’s another frantic patter from my heart, but then it’s as if a cloud of couldn’t-give-a-fuck descends on me. Instead of keeping my legs pressed closed, they fall open. I reach for Sean’s hand before he can pull away entirely, and put it back on my thigh.
“Don’t stop,” I manage. “That was nice.”
“You’re being a fucking cunt,” the stranger announces.
I tip my head back and squint up at the guy standing a foot away from the couch. More people are standing behind him, but they’re mostly indistinguishable blobs.
Because of the crack.
Crack?
I giggle and reach for the guy’s hand. “You also Jo’s friend?” I ask, managing to snag his wrist before he pulls away from my touch.
“The only one in this room,” he mutters. Then he stabs a finger toward Sean. “This is fucked up, and you know it. I’m taking her home.”
Things move too fast. Everything blurs. I fall over onto my side, close my eyes, and let the noises and the shouts and someone’s pained yell wash over me.
Then I’m in the air, suspended by a pair of strong arms. When I manage to open my eyes, Sean’s face appears. A moment later, it blurs into Mr. Bale’s.
I grab his shirt, nestling my face into his strong chest. “I love you,” I murmur, squirming and wriggling and wishing he’d hold me tighter. “I love you so much.”
“You too, sweetie,” he says.
But that voice is wrong. It’s not Mr. Bale.
Where am I?
I free-fall for a split second, and then bounce onto something soft. I roll over onto my side and then my tummy. Deliciously soft and silky sheets. A red light shines in one corner. I can make out sharp lines of furniture blurring into softer shapes as my eyes threaten to close again.
Don’t you dare sleep. Gotta stay awake.
You’ll thank me later, darling.
“Go away, Jo,” I mumble, and then giggle. “Go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” a voice says above my head. “None of us are.”
There’s a laugh, and it’s not from the person who just spoke.
“Where’s Jo?” I ask, as my eyes start drifting closed again.
Stay awake, darling.
I can’t, Jo. I’m too tired. Everything feels too nice. The sheets against my skin. The cool air on my naked body. So nice—
“Christ, you guys see this shit?”
Hands run over my belly, my hips, my thighs.
“Someone gave her a good beating.”
“Fuck.”
“You think it’s Jo?” someone asks.
More hands now. I squirm as they stroke my entire body, tweaking my nipples, gripping my hair, forcing their way between my legs.
“Wouldn’t put it past that creepy fucker,” someone says.
I know that voice.
No, I don’t.
I’m so confused.
“When’s Jo getting here?” I murmur.
“Think he’s fucking her too?”
The hand between my leg strokes me, slips inside. I moan, and my hips buck on their own.
“Look at her. Wouldn’t you?”
Laughter breaks out. My legs are spread open. I moan again, and a hand closes over my mouth.
“Ssh, babe. This is gonna be our little secret, okay?”
My heart spasms in my chest. Scorching heat blossoms inside me.
Our little secret.
No one can ever know.
Even if you tell, no one will believe a little cunt like you.
Don’t say a fucking word, Candy Cane.
Chapter Ten
Josiah
I open eyes groggy from too little sleep. For a moment, I just lie there, trying to claw back the memory of what it was that woke me. Then my phone starts vibrating again, and I snatch it from my nightstand with a grunt.
A glare at the screen shows me two things—the time, and that I have sixteen missed calls.
I sit up in a rush, one hand in my hair, the other unlocking my phone with the swipe of my thumb.
“Jo!”
“Alex? What’s wrong?” I grate out.
“It’s Candy.”
“What?” I swing my legs over the side of my bed as I shuffle to my en-suite bathroom to take a leak. “The fuck you been smoking, Alex?”
“No dude, you don’t understand.” Something’s wrong with his voice. It sounds muffled. Or is that just because my brain’s still warming up. “They drugged her.”
I switch on the light, my eyes narrowing to slits at the brightness. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Just…I texted you the address. I called the cops, but I doubt they’ll come to break up a house party.”
“Wait…Candy? Candy’s there?”
“That’s what I said! This shit’s getting out of hand. Get over here.”
I don’t even bother to flush or wash my hands. I hop into a pair of sweats, snag a hoody from the back of my chair, and race barefoot down the stairs.
Not so fast, Emma, or you’ll break your neck.
I pause at the back door to deactivate the alarm, but my hand hovers in thin air.
It’s not on.
Fuck.
My heart’s in my throat as I ram open the door and race around the house to my SUV. I don’t care if I wake the whole neighborhood—I slam the car door and twist the key in the ignition. Gravel sprays from under the tires as I peel out of the driveway. I’m staring behind me, one hand gripping the passenger side headrest as I hold down the gate’s key fob.
“Open, open, open!” I mutter through my teeth.
The one side of the gate scrapes against my fender as I back the SUV out faster than the gates can open. As soon as I’m on the road, I throw the gear shift into drive and slam down my foot on the gas. My tires screech, and there’s a moment of frozen time where they can’t adhere to the surface of the road.
Then they grip.
The SUV lurches forward.
I leave my stomach behind as my car rockets down the road to Sean’s house.
The party’s still in full swing when I arrive. Someone, I’m guessing Alex, left the gates open. I jump out the SUV, not bothering to close the door behind me or take the key out of the ignition.
Barefoot, dressed only in a hoody and sweats, I run over the lawn and weave between the parked cars. The front door opens but immediately crashes into some random guy standing nearby. I couldn’t care less if I’ve just broken his nose—ignoring his yell of pain, I push through the kids littering the living room.
“Alex!” My voice booms out, but it’s barely able to compete with the blaring hip hop music thumping through the speakers. “Alex!”
“He’s upstairs,” someone says.
I turn and race for the stairs, shoving the kids who are too drunk or fucked to move out of the way.
“Fuck you!” someone yells after me, but it’s all just white noise by now.
They drugged her.
I shove open every door on the second floor. I hammer on the first locked one I get to for a few seconds before moving on.
My brain is screaming for me to slow down, to take stock, but there’s no time.
They drugged her.
Why? Because then she wouldn’t fight back.
I’m snarling, my hands in white-knuckled fists.
“Jo. Jo!”
Alex. I skid to a halt, carpet fibers scorching my naked soles. “Where?” is all I can manage through my tight throat.
He points to a door.
It’s standing ajar.
I throw it open.
Everything’s red.
The walls, the floor, the bed.
Candy.
She’s red too.
Someone covered her with a sheet. She could have been sleeping, but she’s naked beneath that silk.
Sleeping is all.
If I move quietly, I won’t even wake her.
“Who?” I don’t recognize my voice.
Alex appears at my side, and it sounds as if he wants to cry. Perhaps he is crying—I wouldn’t know because I can’t look away from Candy’s slim body there on the bed.
Has she always been that petite?
I feel disproportionately large as I head over to the bed.
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
I’m a giant playing with a toy doll, tucking the sheet in around her.
“Who?” Louder this time. Loud enough to make Candy stir against me.
“Dude, I don’t know. Sean. Eric. Maybe Daniel, I don’t know. Fuck, I tried to stop them.”
“Obviously didn’t try hard enough,” I snap out.
I have her off the bed, wrapped in sheets, cradled to my chest. She’s warm to touch. Hot almost, like she has a fever. Her body is too limp, though. Her hair so shiny.
“Clothes.”
Alex hiccups and I see him moving from the corner of my eye. Searching the room with its devilish red night lamp that soaks everything in blood.
I can’t take her out like this. Everyone will know. And no one can ever know.
No one.
Ever.
“Get something else,” I say.
“Yeah, okay.” Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with her.
I sit on the edge of the bed, still holding her like a baby. She is a baby—she’s too young for any of this shit.
“What the fuck were you doing here?”
Too rough, my voice. It’s not her fault. She didn’t ask for this, didn’t deserve this.
I should have been here. She should have trusted me enough to ask me to come with. To protect her.
You? Really? God, you’re a pretentious cunt. You’ve made it clear from the day you met her how you feel.