by Bella Jewel
I’ll find that Trey fucker, and I’ll bring him down.
“You wanted me?”
I look up to see Bree, one of the club regulars that the men pass around sauntering in. She’s an attractive girl, rough as hell around the edges, but she has a nice set of tits and a good ass. She does the job. She doesn’t complain. She’s easy pickings.
“Yeah,” I mutter, nodding toward my desk. “Bend over it.”
“Ohh,” she croons, walking in, tiny skirt riding so far up her ass I can see the cheeks poking out from beneath it. “Not often I get called in by the top dog. Having a bad day, Prez?”
I stare at her, my eyes no doubt indicating that I’m not in the mood for conversation. I’m horny, my dick fucking hurts, and I can’t get Amalie out of my head. As if to add to everything I already have going on, I don’t need whatever this infatuation is with her to weigh it all down even further. Gotta turn my mind off. The girl is obviously not interested.
So, why the fuck can’t I stay away?
Bree leans over my desk, looking back at me, blue eyes, blond hair, as I said—attractive. She wiggles her ass, and her skirt rides up, showing me she’s not wearing any panties. Her pussy is pink and wet, and my dick rises to the occasion. I jerk the drawer open and pull out a condom, then I use my teeth to rip the packet while I free my cock with my other hand. I roll the condom on and step up to her.
I’m fully clothed.
This won’t take long.
I press my cock to her entrance and push. It slides in with ease, not surprisingly. Bree is no stranger to having a cock rammed into her. She moans, wiggling her ass more, and I put my hands on her hips, shoving my dick in as far as it’ll go.
Then I fuck her.
I don’t fuck her nice. I never fuck nice.
Never. Not once in my life.
I pump my hips so hard her body makes the whole desk rattle. She cries out, whimpering, moaning, screaming, and I thrust until my balls drag up toward my body and my dick swells, then I cum with a grunt, letting my head fall back, letting each pulse fill the condom. After a few seconds, I pull out and turn, disposing of the condom and doing my jeans up.
“Later, Bree,” I say to her.
“Oh, Malakai,” she says, shuffling until her skirt goes back down. “You have the face of an angel but the heart of the devil.”
I glare at her.
She winks at me.
Then she leaves.
Thank fuck.
~*~*~*~*
AMALIE – NOW
“I see you’re early today,” Theo says to me the second he opens the door to Caiden’s parents’ house. “It’s lovely, as always, to see you, Amalie.”
“What kind of mood is he in today?” I ask him, handing him my coat.
“The same as always. His parents are out, but he has a new carer. She’s in there with him.”
She?
He allowed a female carer?
That’s odd because he refused one before. I’m glad for him, though. Maybe changing things means he’s starting to want to venture outside of the world he’s plastered himself into.
“I’m glad, I don’t think I could handle them today.”
Theo smiles. “And I wouldn’t blame you.”
I smile, and Theo winks. Then I make my way down the halls and to the whole wing that belongs to Caiden. Honestly, outside of what happened to him, the man has everything and more. He could live in this house forever and probably go years of that without seeing his parents if he didn’t want to. The end of the house that belongs to him has everything, including its own yard and pool.
It takes me nearly ten minutes to make my way through the massive house and the long corridor that connect the two residences. When I reach the entrance to Caiden’s, I open it, not bothering to knock. I never do. I know he’d never answer. I step inside and walk around; he isn’t in any of his many rooms, so I head outside to the massive deck that leads down to his pool and garden. He’s sitting on it, with a woman by his side.
I expected her to be a bit older, but she’s not.
She’s maybe four or five years older than me.
Both of them turn when they hear me enter, and Caiden’s face automatically goes hard. I could swear he was smiling before he saw me, there was a lightness to his eyes I haven’t seen in a good long time. The girl, who is now looking at me too, is pretty. She has mousy brown hair, soft blue eyes and creamy skin. She’s on the curvy side, but it adds to her natural beauty. She’s rather breathtaking, actually.
“You’re here,” Caiden says, as if he thought I wouldn’t be.
He has to know by now that I’m going to be here, every single day. I know he just says that to irritate me.
“Caiden, how are you?” I say, walking over and taking a seat.
I look to the woman, who is still staring at me, her eyes a little wide. “Hi,” I say, extending a hand. “I’m Amalie. You must be Caiden’s new carer.”
She nods, and in a soft voice says, “Yes, hello, I’m Penelope, but you can call me Penny.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Penny.”
She nods, and stands, looking to Caiden. “I’ll get you some tea and your pills for the afternoon.”
He nods sharply and she leaves. I look to him. “She’s nice. Did you choose her?”
He scowls, hard and angry. “Why are you here, again?”
“Are we going to go over this every time I come to visit you, Caiden?”
I’m not feeling particularly soft today, I’m not sure why. I’m usually always kind to him, but today I’m uptight, frustrated, feeling like I’ve reached a dead end in my life and know I have to take a new path to get out of it, but I don’t know what that path is.
“What’s your problem?” he mutters.
“I’m just here to see how you are. I know you don’t want me here, you’ve made that clear, but understand that I’m coming anyway. I owe you that and your words will not stop me from supporting you, even if you don’t want it.”
He makes a frustrated movement with his hand and growls, “Except it’s not supporting someone when you’re the reason they have no life and they’ve also told you they don’t want your damned support.”
I rub my face, wearily. “Tell me about Penny.”
“Penelope, to you,” he snaps.
Breathe.
“Did you pick her?”
“Does it matter?”
Breathe.
“She seems really nice. How is your therapy going?”
He stares at me like he wants me to self-combust and burn on the ground before him. I’m not in the mood for this today. I’m really not. I feel like I’m going to explode and it wouldn’t be fair to do it to him. That was half the problem in our relationship before the accident. He knew how to push my buttons, and he brought out a side to myself I didn’t like.
I won’t allow that again.
“I’m not in the mood today. I just wanted to check on you. Have a good day, Caiden. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I stand and walk out.
I don’t glance back.
When I reach the kitchen, Penny is just finishing up the tea. I stop, because I don’t want to be rude, his attitude is not her fault. “I’m so sorry to make you go to the trouble of making tea, Penny, but I can’t stay.”
She looks at me, and smiles. “That’s okay. Is everything all right?”
I shrug. “I’m sure he’s told you that he is like that because of me, I’m also sure you probably know he doesn’t like me, but I come every day, anyway, sometimes I wonder why. He doesn’t like it. I’m sorry if he’s in a nasty mood now, that is never how I wish to leave him.”
She studies me, and then says, “I don’t think what happened is your fault, and yes he did tell me. I think he’s angry, and frustrated, and confused, but I think deep down he knows it isn’t your fault, too. If he truly didn’t want you here, he could make your visits stop. I think he doesn’t know what he wants. Don’t give up.”
> With that, she walks away.
And I decide in that very moment that I like her. A whole lot.
She may just be the best thing to ever happen to him.
At least, I hope she is.
-4-
THEN – AMALIE
I don’t want to stare. I don’t. But I can’t look away. I can’t make my eyes turn away from his face. My heart, which was already sinking with every step I took into this room, has just fallen out of my chest. I run my eyes over the man lying on the bed, still unconscious, and I want to break down and cry. I want to reverse it all. I want to make it go away.
It’s like a nightmare I just can’t wake up from.
Caiden is lying in the bed, unconscious, but he doesn’t need to be conscious for me to see the incredible damage done to him. He’s bandaged around the chest and arms, and he has a huge white patch up half his face. I can see the fluid soaked into it, and I know, by the red, angry skin around it, that he’s burned badly.
The doctor told me he has come to a few times now, but the pain takes him out again. He said pain from being burned is one of the most horrific things a human can feel. I know he’s right. I feel only a percentage of what Caiden must be feeling, from the burns on my abdomen. They’re agonizing; his must make him want to die.
He told the doctors he has no feeling in his legs, and they’ve been running tests. I don’t know much more. And I’m terrified. If he can’t walk ... God. My heart pounds so hard I can hardly breathe, as I near closer and reach for his hand, pulling it into mine. I can’t hear, my mind is still buzzing and screaming at me constantly, but I don’t need to hear. He just needs me here.
This is all my fault.
I squeeze his hand, but he doesn’t move, of course he doesn’t. I close my eyes and the tears slip down my face. I told my father last night what happened, I had to, the police wanted a report. I couldn’t lie, I knew Caiden would eventually share the truth, and figured he didn’t need that extra burden when he woke. It was up to me to be honest. My father told my mother, and now I’m sure everyone knows.
A harsh tapping on my shoulder has me spinning around to see Caiden’s mother staring at me. Well, she’s not staring, she’s glaring. Her eyes are as cold as ice. She used to love me. She used to think I was the best thing in the world for him. Now she’s staring at me as if she wishes I was never born, as if she wishes I would just vanish right here and now never to be seen again.
She yells something, but all I hear is a high pitch and the distant sound of her voice. I can make out a few words, just barely. I try to stare at her lips, to figure out what she’s saying, but she’s talking too fast. I’ve never had to spend time looking at how words are formed before, and now I realize just how hard it is. I get a few “yous” and “ands” but that’s as much as I can read.
My fingers are trembling, and tears are still flooding my cheeks. I want to curl up and die. I don’t need to hear what she’s saying to know it’s full of scorn. She hates me. And she is quite within her right. The road ahead for Caiden is long, and full of pain and agony.
I look at him through my tears, and I wonder for the first time, just how much he’s going to hate me too.
Someone takes my arm; it’s my mother. She’s looking between Caiden and me, and then she glances at his mother. She says something. His mother says something. And then they’re yelling at each other. A jumble of angry voices blurs its way into my vision and I slam my hands over my ears. I can’t take it. I can’t.
I lower to my knees, ducking my head, and clenching my eyes shut. I keep my hands over my ears and I pray. I don’t know what for. A miracle maybe. Something to make it go away. Something to make me wake up from this nightmare.
I’m scooped into a familiar set of arms.
My father.
Thank God.
He carries me down the hall and back into my room, placing me on my bed. I’m hysterical, I know I am, everything in my life has been turned upside down and I don’t know how to correct any of it. I can’t hear anyone, I can’t communicate, I can’t help Caiden. Everything is out of my control and I feel helpless.
And broken.
So incredibly broken.
My father takes my chin in his hands and forces me to look up at him. I do, staring into his eyes, eyes I trust so much. He mouths, very, very slowly, “You can still talk. Your hearing is gone. Your words are not. Speak, and I will listen.”
I shake my head.
He keeps hold of my chin. I hold his eyes. “Open your mouth and speak.”
He is mouthing the words so slowly I can make every one of them out.
I shake my head again.
“Amalie, this situation is here whether you like it or not. Use your words, they’re the only thing you have.”
I cry harder, and he squeezes my chin just a little until I stop. My father is kind and gentle, but he is, and always has been, my voice of reason. So, I stop my crying and take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I open my mouth and mutter, “Daddy?”
I open my eyes, and he’s grinning. “Sounds just the same, albeit a little quieter. Keep going.”
“I’m s-s-s-scared.”
I can’t hear my voice, not clearly, and it’s terrifying. I don’t know what pitch my words are coming out, if they’re clear, if they’re not.
My father’s eyes grow soft, and he looks at me. “This is not your fault. This accident is not on you. That’s why it is called an accident. Do not let this ruin your life. Caiden will recover. You will recover.”
I look into his eyes.
And I want to believe him, I do.
But he’s wrong.
It is my fault.
And Caiden might never recover.
~*~*~*~
AMALIE – NOW
“Amalie!”
I hear my mother’s screeching it’s that loud. It’s blurred, but I don’t miss the tone of my name. I turn and see her at my door. No wonder I heard it. I’m just finished getting dressed to go to the cookout and have just put the last curl in my hair when she came roaring into my room, waving her arms around. It’s not often I can hear without looking directly at someone, but she is certainly making a scene.
“What’s the matter?”
My voice is tired, I know it is, and I honestly don’t feel like putting up with her constant nagging tonight. I wish she would go home. I love her, she’s my mother, but I need my alone time again. My own space has become vital to me. It has become everything. The only way I can remember how to breathe again without my demons suffocating me.
“There is a biker at the door!”
Malakai.
Well, I knew that him arriving to pick me up would go down well, but she was going to find out eventually. Quite frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t noticed them yet.
“Yes.”
Her eyes bulge and she comes closer, getting in my space, whispering even though she knows damn well I can’t hear her no matter what she does. I want to roll my eyes, and I hate myself for that because I’ve never been the type to act like a brat.
So, instead, I listen.
“What in the name of heaven are you doing hanging around bikers?”
I know she’s whisper-yelling; I can tell by the way her mouth moves, by her body language. When you take sound away, you can read a lot about a person by the way their mouth moves, their expressions, and their body movements. It’s quite incredible, really. You learn a lot more about people when their voices are no longer your focus.
“Scarlett’s boyfriend is part of the club and so they’ve been protecting us. You should be thankful; without them I would be in a lot more danger than I am.”
Her eyes get wider. Oh, yes, this is going down beautifully.
“You’re joking, right?”
I exhale. “No, Mom, I’m not. They’re good people.”
“And you’re ... going out with one! What about Caiden?”
God.
I’m so tired of dramatics.
&nbs
p; “I’m not going out with one, I’m going to a cookout tonight with Scarlett. And Caiden and I aren’t together, you know this.”
She crosses her arms angrily over her chest. “Yes, we know why.”
Here we go.
“Mom, please, for once I wish I could go a whole day without feeling guilt. Let me, I beg of you. I’m going out, purely because I’m a grown woman and I don’t actually have to ask.”
“You can’t be serious!” she says, throwing her hands into the air.
“I’m serious. Now, I can’t keep him waiting.”
“That man looks dangerous!”
I stare at her. “That’s the best part about him. At least I know I’m safe when he’s around.”
Her mouth drops open. I take my purse and step past her, walking down the stairs and to the front door when Malakai is waiting, looking so incredibly gorgeous I stop in my tracks, and for a second, I just stare at him. His beauty is terrifying. He’s wearing faded black jeans with chunky black boots. He’s got his jacket on over a dark fitting grey tee that clings to his chest muscles. His hair is damp, falling over his forehead and curling at the base of his neck.
His eyes, though.
They take my very soul and claim it.
He could own me in one single heartbeat, and I’d never look back.
My cheeks flush when I realize I’ve been staring at him for more than a few seconds. I look down, tangling a curl around my finger and twisting it nervously. I take a shaky breath and look back up. I wonder if I’m overdressed. Mal is staring at me, his eyes running down the length of my body, making my heart beat so fast it feels as though it’s going to launch out of my chest.
I’m wearing a pair of blue jeans and a halter neck tee. My hair is down, washed and curled, and I have on my favorite pair of black boots. I didn’t want to look completely out of place. I meet Mal’s eyes and one side of his mouth jerks up into an absolutely heartbreaking grin. “Ready to go, darlin’?”
I nod, and walk toward the door. I take one step out and my mother takes my arm. I spin toward her and stare into her wide eyes. She looks from Malakai to me, then back to him. Finally, after scrutinizing him for a minute, she meets my gaze. “You aren’t going out tonight.”