CHAPTER 31
“Thirty minutes is a long ass time, Jess,” Callum seduces, fingering the hem of my svelte dress.
I laugh at the pout twisting his lips. Stepping up onto my tiptoes, I press my lips firmly against his. He tries to deepen it by wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him, but I pull away before he can, making him growl in frustration. “You all go home and change, then come back here and get me. Literally, thirty minutes, then I’m all yours.”
His eyes drop to my lips, a storm of desire brewing in his eyes. He’s been looking at me like that all night and stealing little caresses here and there. To the point where I’m almost at my breaking point here. I need them, but I also need a few minutes to myself as well; to go over everything that happened at the party.
Davis. The cryptic meeting, we had in my father’s study. The fact Debra is so pathetic she’s trying to get my father’s portion of the empire. An empire I didn’t even know he was part of. Everything that happened tonight has my head in such a mess. And to sift through all of it, I’ll need a few moments to myself before the guys come back to get me.
This evening was everything I hoped it would be, after the initial disaster. I got to dance with all my men—not at the same time, because who knew that could be frowned upon? Certainly not me. But we danced separately, and I loved the vast difference between all of them.
Ellis has the magical touch and dances with grace and poise. Quinn, he’s a little rougher around the edges, a little more handsy. Callum, definitely all hands and left feet. And Asher, he covered up not knowing how to dance by being his goofy self.
It was perfect, even with the big bombs my father dropped. Davis being the biggest. Who knew the guy that touched me intimately will probably end up being my stepbrother? Yeah, I didn’t; otherwise, I wouldn’t have touched him or allowed him to touch me.
Anyway, besides all that, we got to talk with one another, keep ourselves occupied while the “grown-ups” were talking business. I can remember several times my father met my gaze from across the room while he was talking to all the men—his business partners. And every time I got this sense of understanding at why he’s changing so much. In this life, you must play the part or fail, and failure is not an option.
There was Callum’s father, who hasn’t changed a bit since we were freshman in high school. He’s still the cuddliest man ever, but you wouldn’t know that by looking at him. He’s hard. Everywhere. Callum looks like the splitting image of his father, except he has his mother’s hair, with its softness and color.
Ellis’ father, now there’s a pickle I do not want to take a bite into. That man terrifies the living daylights out of me. He’s hard, silent—the complete opposite of his son—and he has a scar that runs along the length of his neck. It looks like someone tried a drive by slashing but missed their mark by mere inches. Also, Ellis looks nothing like his father. Instead, he has the soft features of his mother.
Quinn—he’s a whole different ballgame. I can understand why he hates his father now. Jeffery is not the same man I met at my mothers. This man is a sleezeball. He openly flirted with me while the guys went to fetch their mother’s drinks. He didn’t care that everyone was watching and even tried to cop a feel of my ass underneath my dress. He’s a real character, I tell you.
I’m also extremely glad Quinn looks nothing like the man. Even when it comes to his stature. His mother is a down-to-earth woman that looks like a fitness model. She’s gorgeous, with tight, toned curves that broach the territory of a sensual goddess. She’s perfection, and I do not understand what the fuck she sees in Quinn’s father.
Asher, now, I believe I love both of his parents the most. It’s clear to see they love each other, with their flirty, little smiles, and the times they stole chaste kisses when they thought no one was looking. I can see where Asher gets his goofiness from; his light-hearted charisma that made me fall for him the first time I allowed myself to peek past the curtain of their bullying. Asher is the splitting image of his father in almost every way. I’d even go as far to say they could be mistaken for brothers instead of father and son.
But I’m not counting Asher’s mother out just yet. She is where he gets his icy, crystal blue eyes. Except hers mirror the Atlantic Ocean in the dead of winter. While his father’s is brown, with flecks of caramel woven within—hers are pure blue with a band of gray resting just around the irises.
Every time I got caught up in a conversation between the two of them, I held my stomach as I laughed like I haven’t in so long. It had me wondering why I never got a chance to introduce myself when Debra had that dinner party a few months back. But I can only ascertain that to the fact she wanted me to be seem more than she wanted me to be heard.
But tonight, I was both. I joined in, the ease of being around them nearly throwing me off kilter. It felt like I’d known them for years, and I didn’t want to leave by the time Callum came to accost me from them. At least, I didn’t want to leave too much, until I saw the way Callum’s eyes were scanning me up and down in my dress—much the same way as he is right now.
“We won’t be wearing clothes for long, anyway, little mouse. I’d rather peel you out of this dress and lay you out. What about you all?” He asks, taking in the others.
Damn, they’re all so fucking handsome. Every one of them. With their perfectly tailored suits, perfectly styled hair, and seductively, charming grins lighting their faces as they nod their agreement.
Well, I guess if you want something you have to give a little to get a little. They’re just going to have to wait, much like I have been for what seems like years. At least, Callum, Asher, and Ellis have to wait. Quinn, he’s already been inside me, and I’m aware to how extraordinary he is. It makes me flush just thinking about it.
I’m kind of guilty, too. The other guys still don’t know about what he helped me with. I figured he would tell them, but to my amazement, he’s kept it a secret this entire time. I kind of thank him for that, because I’m not ready for all my demons to run amuck through the streets of Silver Creek. But soon, I’ll tell them when I gather up enough courage.
Flicking my gaze toward him, he catches my eyes, smirking. A warm tingle races up my spine as I remember what we did in the bathroom that day at school. In such a hard time, he came to my rescue, and he’s had a soft place in my heart ever since. As will the other’s if they ever go home and change.
“So damn tempting,” Callum whispers, then puts his lips on mine once more.
Moaning into the kiss, I almost get lost in the encompassing feeling of rightness, that I barely hear something come from inside the house. Scrunching up my face, I hesitantly back away from Callum. It sounded like Debra walking around in the foyer. That fucking sleazy bitch. She’s not supposed to be home.
I stare behind me at the door, expecting her to open it any minute. Only, she doesn’t. It looks like her threat of calling the police went undone.
Actually, she’s still supposed to be in the city at a work convention. At least, I think she’s supposed to be. She said on the phone that she would be back tonight, but her car isn’t here and if her car isn’t here, then that should mean she’s not here. Knowing her, she put it in the garage to throw me off my game. That seems like something she’d do.
However, I can’t deny Debra is inside. I vaguely hear something clicking on the hardwood floor, and as bad as I hate this feeling inside me, I can’t deny it, it makes a lead weight settle into my stomach. Tilting my head, my face screws up in confusion as another noise filters through the thick wood paneling. That doesn’t sound right. It sounds like she’s shuffling and dragging something behind her.
Hmm. That’s weird.
“Um, I think Debra’s home.” At the mention of Debra, Callum’s eyes darken, only this time, not in desire.
He fucking hates her. Ever since it came out that she’s been abusing me, he’s been leery of her ever since. He won’t say it anymore, but I know he hates me even staying here. Jus
t the thought possibly turns his stomach.
But what can I do? It’s not like I can go against the custody order for at least another week. The courts refuse to allow my father custody, even though he’s tried several times. He told me this at the party, and he and I text at least a dozen times a day, like it used to be before all that shit happened. Every single time, we’re let down. But my day is coming, and I can’t wait to reap the rewards.
“Fuck that bitch,” he growls. “Screw it. Come to my house. Mom and dad are still at the business party. I need you—we all do.”
Another thump from inside has me turning toward the door. The noise sounds like it’s coming from the stairs, and I can only imagine what I’m about to walk into. If she’s here, then that means something happened. Maybe I should go to Callum’s and stay out of the line of fire.
“Okay,” I concede. A smile splits his face into angelic beauty, but the relief is clear in his eyes.
The guys have already turned toward Callum’s car, and when Callum weaves his fingers through mine, we make our way off my front stoop. He pulls me along after him, and my heart steadily thuds faster and faster behind my ribs. Just the thought of what’s going to happen tonight has my adrenaline buzzing. I’ve only ever been with one guy at once, minus that time Asher and Ellis tag teamed me.
When he gestures for me to get in, I swallow hard. My eyes meet his, seeing the arousal glimmering in his emerald depths. I fight a tremor as I draw my shawl around me more.
Just as I lift my leg to get in, my phone buzzes in my clutch. Where I’m going, I don’t need my phone. It needs to be shut off, so I’m not disturbed. Grabbing it out of my clutch, I do a quick drive by of the screen. But as I’m putting it away, the words of her text message catch my attention.
Debra: Your father called, Jessalyn. I think you and I need to talk.
Furrowing my brows, I read her message over and over, not making sense of it. Why would my father contact her? He wants nothing to do with her, hasn’t since he moved out and most definitely since that blow up a few weeks ago. He could just call me, since I have his correct phone number now. But maybe this is what I’ve been waiting for.
But if that’s true, why didn’t he just tell me at the party?
In a way, I’m more confused than anything. My father must have really hit her where it hurts if he’s contacted her personally. Except, there’s that little nagging feeling in the back of my mind that says she’s making it up. That she only wants me inside so we can finish our earlier conversation.
The screaming match that ended with me bellowing through the neighborhood that I wish she’d fucking die. Not one of my finer moments, but I’ll be damned if I take it back. She could drop dead right this moment and it wouldn’t bother me a bit. Maybe then I’d actually feel like my own person, instead of a punching bag.
Me: Aren’t you supposed to be at some work convention or some shit?
Debra: Come into the house. Now.
I try once more. Me: I have shit to do. Go fuck yourself.
Debra: Get in this house right fucking now. Do not make me come out there for you. This is your last warning.
Sighing, I break my gaze with the screen of my phone and stare up into Callum’s eyes. His brows slant inward with confusion until I fill him in on what Debra texted me. I really don’t want to go in there. It’s untelling what their conversation was about. But I’m betting it may have something to do the custody agreement.
“I better go in,” I say. “Come back in thirty, okay?” I put my phone back into my clutch and turn toward him.
He seems reluctant but agrees. “We’ll be here.”
I give Callum a quick kiss on the lips. Then kiss the other three guys sitting in the back seat. Ellis tries to deepen it, but I pull back out of his reach with a slight giggle escaping. They’re hesitant to leave, knowing what she does to me, but they know if they went inside, they would only make it worse.
It’s only thirty minutes, right? How bad could things get?
CHAPTER 32
After waving them off, I make my way inside. The moment the door slams behind me, I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something feels off, like there’s a bad energy in the house. It’s much more than what Debra wafts around all over the place. This is sinister, evil.
Pushing it from my thoughts, I make my way toward my room. Tossing down the clutch on my bed, I sigh as I remove the pins holding my hair in place. My hair isn’t too long, but it is long enough to pin some curls up.
I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do tonight. My skin practically buzzes in remembrance of the first time all the guys saw me. Their jaws hit the floor before they could recover, and it made me feel insanely good.
Without undressing, I only take the time to slip out of my heels and come out of my room in search for Debra. She said we needed to talk, so we’re going to get this over and done with. The less I have to see her, the better. No doubt she will take advantage of not having the guys here for this conversation.
Making my way down the steps, I continue on into the kitchen. It’s as good of a place to start as any, and I could have sworn I heard her down here shuffling around. Her usual click, click, click didn’t accompany it, but I know it’s her. She’s always a loud bitch. That’s also where the wine is, and I’m sure if she took the time to text me, she’s already pouring her first glass.
Stepping through the entryway, my breath stalls in my lungs. My heart no longer pumps feverishly in excitement, but dread. A sense of looming doom that can only be quickly followed by something terrible.
There are two candles placed in an immaculate, solitary candleholder. They’re lit, the wick not even burnt down enough to touch the wax. The kitchen island is sprinkled with bits and pieces of my roses. The red, white, and black petals lying haphazardly everywhere.
That stupid bitch can’t just let me have something, can she? She always has to destroy everything she puts her hands on. They were my roses. Mine. Not hers. She had no right to rip the petals off the stem, leaving them lying around as if to taunt me into breaking. If she wants me to hurt her, she’s doing a damn good job of it.
“Debra?”
I walk toward the island, picking up a few of the rose petals and swishing them between my fingers. I feel the silky dusting of them transfer to my fingers and can’t stop the tears that dance along the surface of my eyes. Tossing them back down, I make my way through the kitchen and into the dining room.
And that’s where I stop. Stop breathing. Stop thinking. Stop everything. Confusion clouds my brain, making it hard to think.
A curtain is blowing in with the wintery breeze. Muddy footprints stain Debra’s Persian carpet into ruin. On the dining room table sits a decorative white box with powder blue ribbon tied around it like a present.
Is this some kind of joke? If she’s playing with me, then she needs to get a fucking life.
I’m in the process of turning around and leaving when something moves in the shadows out of the corner of my eyes. It’s far enough away I didn’t immediately notice, but now that I have, I can’t look away. Furrowing my brow, I turn to face her. Only, I don’t find it’s her at all.
It’s him.
With that ski mask pulled tight over his face. His large body fills out the dark clothing he used to better help shield him from view. The only thing I catch when he moves from the shadows is the glimmer of menace in his eyes and that smile.
A smile, I’ll never forget for as long as I live.
“Did you miss me, little girl,” his voice is nothing more than a hiss, deep and heartbreakingly familiar. There’s a rough, grittiness to it, like he’s forcing it to appear different, deeper.
Without thinking, I turn around as fast as I can and run. I run and run. If he’s here that means … No, no, no.
I get to the back door, finding it bolted shut with nails and boards hammered around the bottom. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, but it’s not enough to get it to budge even an
inch. No matter how many times I shove my shoulder into it, nothing happens.
I cry out in panic, then take off toward the front door. I have to find a way out of here. I can’t—there’s no way I can be in the same house as him. Tears dot my eyes, my gasping sobs wreaking havoc on me.
I notice, out of the corner of my eye, as I pass by the dining room, that he hasn’t left his spot. He hasn’t even moved an inch, like he’s having the time of his life watching me try to save mine. It terrifies me in words I can’t properly discern. It’s like he has no fear of me getting away from him; that I’m all his and he’ll have as much time to do with me as he pleases.
When I tumble into the front door, disbelief jars me. I know why he seems so self-assured. Horror clogs my throat with a lump so big it nearly chokes me. He’s barricaded the front door as well. How did I not notice that when I came down to search for Debra? Where the fuck is she, anyway? She told me to come in here and talk to her about my father’s phone call, but I can’t even find her now? What the fuck?
Then, it dawns on me. Debra’s probably not even here. But that just begs the question of how I got a text from her, stating she needed to talk to me. It was her number, so it would be from her phone, right? There’s no way he could have gotten her cell phone. That piece of technology is melded to Debra’s ear from the time she wakes up until the time she goes to sleep at night.
So, how? Oh, God, he probably copied her phone number on a card. If he can get my phone number, there has to be a way he can do that, too.
I squeak in fear when I hear the thumping sound of his footfalls in the dining room. My fear forces me to move up the stairs. When I get to the top, I try practically every door, but none will open. Not even mine, and I was just in here a few moments ago. The only door left is Debra’s, and that’s not a place I don’t want to go. But if it will give me a place to hide, at least until the guys get back here, then I’ll do it. Debra’s wrath be damned.
My feet slap against the hardwood floor as I barrel to the other end of the hallway. I can just see his head entering under the arch of the living room, and I know I have little time before he finds me. I hate to even think about what he will do if he gets his hands on me. All I know is, it won’t be good. Nothing good will ever come from someone like him.
Tease Me, Baby: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 2) Page 23