by R. A. Smyth
“You can touch me now,” I breathe, feeling this desperate need building. It takes me a second to realise I spoke those words out loud.
His hands tighten on the railing and his breath stutters while he tries to control himself. I lean into him so our bodies are flush together, rocking my hips against his hard length. I know I shouldn’t be encouraging this but I just can’t deny this tension between us. I felt it that first day he helped me with my locker and it’s been growing ever since. What happened in my bedroom has only enhanced my craving for him. He’s like a drug and my body can’t get enough.
He groans against my neck before his right hand moves to grip my hip, tightly, and his left hand winds its way into my hair, holding me securely as his lips smash into mine, consuming me in a kiss full of passion, heat, and fire. I’ve never been kissed like this in my life. His supple lips move against mine, encouraging me to open beneath him before he dips his tongue in to dance with my own.
His body pushes down on me, forcing me back against the railing as his hips grind against my own, seeking that long-sought-after friction.
All too soon he pulls back. A small wanton moan leaves me before I can stop it. He takes another step back, away from me, and it's only then, when I have a bit more room to breathe and my brain starts to function again, that I realise I can hear voices. Someone else is out here with us, round the side of the house where the door back into the kitchen is.
“Don’t trust anyone Sophie. No one here is your friend,” he states vaguely before turning around and heading back towards the house, leaving me staring after him in the dark. My panties are wet and my skin burns where he touched me. Dammit, what are these boys doing to me?
I stand outside in the night air for another few minutes trying to calm my breath and letting the flush on my chest die down before walking back into the house.
Once I’m back in the kitchen, surrounded by tipsy classmates, I grab myself a glass of water to help me cool down and do another loop through the house, hoping to run into Alexis or one of her friends.
Unfortunately, it’s not one of the girls I run into first, but Kurt. I haven’t had many dealings with him thankfully, he always seems too busy buried deep in some girl or getting sucked off by one. Unfortunately, I seem to have caught him with his trousers pulled up and buttoned, and on the prowl for a new conquest.
“Well well, what do we have here? If it isn’t the girl that has both Preston and Barrett’s attention,” he sneers, while slowly looking me up and down and licking his lips in a way that makes my whole body tense, but I control the urge to show my disgust.
He has managed to sneak up behind me while I was making my way through one of the quieter living rooms, closing in on me.
“That’s some feat you know. Tell me, what is it about you that has them so riled up?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. They hate me and I hate them,” I reply distractedly, trying to work out how to get away from him. Every time he steps in closer to me, I take a step back in an attempt to maintain some distance between us.
Laughing, he responds, “Doesn’t look like hate to me. It looks like they wanna fuck you so hard you forget your own name,” He responds crudely, continuing to leer at me suggestively as my back hits the wall behind me and his arms snap out so his hands are firmly against the wall on either side of my head, effectively trapping me.
“They aren’t all they crack up to be though. I can do so much more for you, baby,” he continues suggestively, leaning in even closer to me, causing my palms to sweat and my breath to become shallow as I try not to move, hoping if I just let him say his piece he will leave me alone. He can’t drag me off in the middle of the party, and I will scream bloody murder if he so much as tries.
He dips his head, running his nose along my hairline at the top of my head. It’s not a dissimilar gesture to Barrett’s, but my reaction couldn’t be more different. “Mmm, you smell like fear. I bet you taste delicious.”
What the fuck did he just say? Is he my revolting note writer, or just another creep in this town full of whack jobs?
I’m heading in full panic mode now, adrenaline taking over my thoughts and movements as I mutter, “Wh…What did you just say?”
“If you wanna mess with them though, you only have to ask. Wouldn’t be a hardship to fuck a pretty ass like yours, especially if it meant pissing off the Kings of Crescentwood Prep,” he continues, ignoring me and smiling smugly like he thinks it's a no-brainer that I’d sleep with him.
“No thanks,” I succinctly blurt, making a move to duck under his outstretched arm. He grabs my arm at the last second and pulls me into him, pushing me back up against the wall.
“No? I could make it real good for you babe.”
“I said no,” I state defiantly, putting on a brazen front and not letting him see how much he is getting to me.
I see the moment his switch flips and the monster inside him comes to the surface. His expression darkens, his eyes losing the glint of humour he had before.
“No one says no to me. I could have made it enjoyable for you, made you come so many times you’d be a soaking wet mess. Now, I’m going to take what I want,” he vows with an evil gleam in his eye.
This is the real Kurt. He’s fucking terrifying. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, now I have to handle this entitled dickwad, who might just be my deranged note writer. Excellent.
I don’t know if it’s a relief to have a possible identity, or horrifying to know how unstable he is. This confrontation makes the notes so much more real now. I can’t continue ignoring them.
Before I can think too much about it, I lift my knee up quickly, jabbing him in the balls, causing him to release his hold on me as he doubles over, enabling me to get away. My hands are shaking and I just want to be done with this godforsaken party.
Hurriedly making my way out of the room, I continue to look for one of the girls. After another few minutes of not finding them, I grab ahold of some random girl as she passes by me, “Have you seen Alexis or one of her friends?” I ask, desperately hoping that what I’m beginning to think has happened hasn’t actually happened.
“Uh, yeah, I think they left a while ago. I saw them heading out to the car with a few guys. Guess someone’s getting lucky tonight, right?” She laughs before moving back into the crowd.
Fuck sake, they just left me here, so much for friends. Looks like Barrett was right, I can’t trust anyone here.
Deciding I can’t handle any more of the party, I wander down the steps and find a little patio area with a water feature off to one side, hidden amongst the shrubs, but still close enough to the other people loitering about outside that if Kurt came near me again I could scream for help.
I stand there for several long minutes, trying to get myself under control. What is it about this town that attracts psychotic nutjobs like Robert, sleazy pigs like Steven and whatever the fuck kind of wacko Kurt is?
After a while, my hands stop shaking and my stomach settles down, and I begin to feel more like myself. I need to get out of here. I’ve just lifted my phone out of the pocket in my dress – who doesn’t love dresses with pockets?! – to call Oliver for a ride when I notice a car I recognise idling at the bottom of the drive. No other cars are parked that far away from the house, and I haven’t seen anyone walk past me towards the bottom of the drive.
Moving away from the fountain, sticking to the shadows, and making my way slowly towards the car, I snatch a glimpse in through the passenger side window and see Aiden and Tyler sitting there, watching the party goers milling about outside. What were they doing here? Spying on me? Fuck me, I’ve just about had enough of all the males in this town.
Chapter 21
Istand and watch them as they sit in the car, chatting away to one another while they keep an eye on the front of the house, observing the people loitering around outside. They seem so at ease in this moment, caught off guard, looking more like two best friends about to go
join their peers at a party, instead of two ruthless gang members doing a job for their domineering boss.
I’m not entirely sure what to do. I could just phone Oliver, like I was going to, and head home and forget about them. On the other hand, I could go get in their car and try again to find out something more, or at least attempt to confirm what I think I know.
Well, when I phrase it like that, the decision is easy.
I strut over to the car and climb into the back, sliding across into the middle seat before looking up, giving an innocent, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, smile to the two men in the front seat who have turned around to gape at me in surprise.
Well, I imagine they are surprised at my sudden appearance. Their poker faces are pretty damn good.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Aiden demands, glaring at me as though he’s trying to figure me out.
Other than when I confronted them on the trail, I’ve all but ignored their annoying presence. He’s probably wondering why I’m suddenly acknowledging their existence now, and honestly, I’m not sure. I just saw them tonight and acted, as is my go to move around them apparently.
Shrugging my shoulders. “I need a lift home,” I explain casually, “I saw your car and figured there was no point in dragging poor Oliver out of his bed to come get me, in the middle of the night, when the two of you are right here.”
Tyler barks out a laugh at my audacity. I can’t imagine many people voluntarily get into a car with these two, especially given the air of danger that constantly surrounds them, the ‘don’t fuck with us’ faces they sport at all times, and the fact I’m ninety-nine percent sure they are both carrying at least one type of weapon on them right now.
For some reason though, I feel strangely comfortable with them, regardless of who they are and who they work for. I definitely feel a hell of a lot safer here, with two gangbangers, than I do with Kurt. Besides, my father doesn’t want me dead. Yet. So, I figure I’m safe enough with them until then.
When they both continue to just look at me, I turn my gaze to Tyler, since he’s the one behind the wheel, and give him my best ‘well what are you waiting for’ look.
“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles, giving me a mock two-finger salute as he turns around in his seat, shaking his head at my antics as he starts the engine and manoeuvres us down the drive.
The three of us sit in silence for a couple of minutes as we make our way down the dark road, the occasional street light brightening the inside of the car as we drive past, showing me brief glimpses of both their faces.
Leaning forward, resting my arms on my knees so I’m perched with my head between the two front seats, I take advantage of this time to observe the two of them. Tyler is focused on the road, but I see him occasionally flash his gaze up to the rearview mirror so he can watch me. Aiden just ignores my presence. Perhaps he thinks if he pretends I’m not here, I’ll just disappear.
Aiden is definitely the harder of the two to get a read on. He’s so closed off. I wonder what made him that way, what happened to this man in front of me that made him put up such impenetrable walls. There is more to him than what he shows people though, otherwise, he wouldn’t cover for me with my father. I saw a glimpse of what he hides underneath his mask, that day on the trail, and again tonight, when he didn’t just drag me out of the car after I all but barged in, demanding a lift.
Tyler isn’t much easier to read. On first impression, you would just write him off as an easy-going, fun-loving player, but he has the same coldness in his eyes, that same ruthless, predatory gleam, that Aiden has. They are more alike than you would initially think, but Tyler is more open than Aiden, freer to show a softer side of himself. That’s what makes him easier to get a read on, quicker to gauge.
Where I have no idea what Aiden’s thoughts or feelings are about me, I’m pretty sure Tyler likes me, or he at least finds me amusing. I can only hope, whatever positive feelings they might have towards me, will endear them to open up to me a bit about who they are, and who my father is.
“So…” I begin, flicking my glance between the two of them, hoping I don’t just succeed in pissing one or both of them off with my probing. “You work for my father.” It’s not a question. I already know this as fact. I’m telling them what I’ve already gleaned, wanting to know if they will agree or deny it.
The two of them exchange a quick glance out of the corner of their eyes, neither one giving me a verbal response.
“And…my father owns a ruthless criminal gang,” I say, continuing on with my fact sharing, even though I am less sure of this statement.
Again, they don’t respond to me in words, but their silence says all I need to know. I’m right. Interesting. I knew he was associated with one, high up in one even, but the leader. That’s a lot more concerning.
“So, that means you’re both in a gang…A violent, ruthless gang known for its heinous crimes,” I ramble, as the seriousness of who I’m in the car with hits me. I often forget that Aiden and Tyler are actually a part of my father’s club. I mean, of course, I know they are, but I don’t think of them as being the same as my father. They just aren’t what I imagine ruthless gang members to be like. Not that, you know, I have any experience or idea of what actual real life, ‘Ten Most Wanted’ type criminals are like.
Aiden and Tyler continue to sit in silence, neither confirming nor denying my statements, not that I need them to.
“Why are you guys covering for me with my father?” I blurt out without thinking. What the hell? Out of all the questions I could have asked, I go with that? True, the question has been bothering me since this whole thing started, but I’m not so sure it was wise to draw attention to what they have done for me. What if I make them overthink their reasons and cause them to change their minds?
Aiden and Tyler share yet another sideways glance, this one longer, as though they are communicating something with their eyes, before Aiden turns around to look at me.
He studies me for a long minute, taking in my outfit with a heated gaze. The shorts of my playsuit are high up my thigh and my breasts are pushed together with the way I am sitting. His eyes slowly burn a path up my body before landing on my face, slowly roaming over every inch, pausing briefly on my lips before moving up to look me in the eyes. I wish I knew what he was thinking right now.
“How about you answer some questions for us?”
Scowling at him, I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my seat, feeling like I need some distance from his intense gaze. It wasn’t the question I intended to ask, but now that it’s out there, in the atmosphere, looming between the three of us, I desperately need to know the answer.
“Not until you answer mine.”
Narrowing his gaze at me, he doesn’t say anything for another minute. Just when I think he isn’t going to answer my question, he finally responds.
Shaking his head, he reluctantly admits, “We don’t know.” Taking in his facial features, his lips are pressed into a tight line and his eyebrows are furrowed in frustration, but I don’t think his vexing is aimed at me specifically. More like he’s annoyed at the situation, at the fact he doesn’t know why he’s protecting me; the not knowing is pissing him off.
“Now your turn.” Aiden pushes, clearly wanting to change the subject and preventing me from mulling over his non-answer any further. “Where were you before you showed up here? Your accent isn’t American so you obviously didn’t grow up here.”
His question catches me off guard. I just assumed they knew the history, or lack thereof, between my father and me, but apparently, I was wrong.
I scrunch my nose up at his question, not wanting to go down memory lane and divulge my inner pain to him. He must see my reluctance, and realise I’m not going to answer, as he asks a slightly different question. “Why are you here, in Crescentwood, now, instead of staying wherever you’ve been?”
Deciding to share just a little bit of my past so he doesn’t continue to poke and prod, I qui
etly mutter, “My mum died,” before looking away from his gaze to stare out the side-door window, not wanting to see any pity in his eyes.
Just saying the words out loud cracks something inside me, causing pain to leak out, even all these weeks later. Things have been so chaotic since I arrived here that I haven’t had much chance to think about my mum, or dwell on my grief. Just thinking about her, and saying those words out loud to another person, threatens to crack my rough exterior and drown me in painful, heart-wrenching sorrow.
“I’m sorry, Sophie.” Tyler, the softer of the two, says from the front seat, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
Looking up into the mirror, I give him a reassuring smile before moving my gaze back to Aiden, whose eyes haven’t left me, reading the wave of emotions as they play across my face. I’m surprised to see no pity on his eyes, only understanding. Of course, I should have known, Aiden isn’t the pitying type.
“Then you came here to live with your dad?” He asks, looking puzzled by something. I can practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he tries to make sense of something.
I can’t help but snort at his use of the word ‘dad’.
“Yeah. I came here to live with dear old dad, the one I didn’t even know existed until a few weeks ago.”
Tyler, who has been a mostly silent participant in this conversation so far, pipes up with his own questions.
“You didn’t know about your dad before you moved here?”
Looking into the rearview mirror, his eyes are focused on the road ahead but I can see he’s surprised by what I’ve said.
“No,” I answer, shaking my head, “It’s always just been me and my mum. Why do you seem surprised by what I’ve said?” I ask, confused about why any of this is new information to them. Surely they are aware that I don’t know my father well, or at all, it’s not like I was ever around their club or whatever growing up.