Not So Cinderella

by Rebekah L. Thompson

  Drake sits next to me and gathers my hands in his. He says nothing for a minute, which worries me, but I stay silent. He may just need to gather his thoughts. I know when I have something important to say, it’s harder when someone asks questions or interrupts my thoughts. Sometimes you need a minute to put your thoughts in order.

  “Once, you asked me where I got all my tattoos and what they mean,” he starts, getting my attention. I did ask. A week ago, we were lying in bed, and I asked because most teenagers aren’t covered in tattoos like he is. He’d said he didn’t want to talk about it. Each time I’d asked, he brushed me off.

  “Well, I want to tell you now. I used to be ashamed of it, but you- you told me they were beautiful, and I never thought anyone would look at them like that,” Drake informs me. I nod for him to continue. He takes a deep breath.

  “Andrew and Anissa aren’t my birth parents. My birth father was a gang leader, and my mother, his mistress,” he says, his words like ice. “My birth father killed my mother once I was old enough to walk to keep me in the family business.” Oh, God. My eyes widen at his words, and I hold his hand tighter. His father killed his mother? What kind of sicko does that?

  Drake sighs and shoves a hand through his hair, tugging at it. He’s worried. That’s his worrying tick. I’m not sure if it’s because of his birth parents or what he thinks I’ll think. “When I was twelve, my father started tattooing me. He put everything on me from pointless drawings to quotes to symbols with gang meanings,” he says, pulling his hands away from mine and unbuttoning his shirt. He lets it fall off of his body, revealing all of his tattoos.

  His muscles flex and move as he displays the art. Eventually, he lets his arms fall back to the sides, and he takes another deep breath. This isn’t easy for him, so I run my hand up and down his arm for comfort. I’ve never thought his tattoos were ugly or wrong. To me, they look amazing.

  “His gang was the Devil’s Serpent. That’s why he put the serpent head on my stomach,” he explains, looking down at the enormous serpent on his torso. It’s vast, covering almost his entire stomach to chest. “She’s meant to be the devil’s wife, who my father said was the serpent.” I nod, and he moves his hand up, pointing to the red flower at his neck. “This was a reminder of my mother,” he tells me. “And a reminder to never let a mistress fall pregnant with his kid again.”

  My eyes widen at the words. How anyone can hate his son so much is ridiculous. His father must’ve been a terrible person. What am I saying? He was a gang leader- is a gang leader? I don’t know. At least he’s not here.

  “The only other important tattoo is the skull on my back, which he said was to remind me that he, the devil, was in charge of my life,” he says, turning around so I can see the skull; even though I’ve seen it plenty of times. It’s enormous, too, almost covering his back.

  I swallow my anger and ball my hands into fists. If I ever meet this man, I think I might kill him.

  “From the age twelve to fifteen, he had fresh tattoos inked on me, and most of them are just there to cover skin,” he sighs. When he says to cover the skin, he means it. There isn’t much skin that doesn’t have black ink on it. It must’ve been painful. My heart hurts for the little boy that went through this torture.

  He runs a hand over his head and through his hair again. “Then, some things happened in the gang, and they murdered my dad. I wasn’t old enough to live on my own, and I wanted no part of the gang, so they put me in a children’s home,” he continues, staring down at his hands.

  I think he won’t continue with his story for a second, but he proves me wrong when he speaks again.

  “That’s where I met the guys. We all bonded over the fact that our parents were dead or didn’t want us,” he says, smiling a little. Shaking his head, he looks back up. “Then, I got adopted by the Morgans, and I changed my name to Drake Morgan,” he tells me.

  “Is that why you don’t enjoy using their money?” I ask, and he nods.

  He runs his hand through his hair and then down his face. “That’s when I started fighting for money. We stayed friends and met up at fights. Eventually, I made enough money to pay for half of the house. Andrew- Dad helped cover the other half, and I told the guys they could move in, which is why we don’t live near Kim’s school anymore.”

  Wow. Handsome, independent, selfless, and unique; these words describe the man in front of me. He’s been with the Morgans for three years. Also, I never knew the guys all grew up in a home. No wonder they wanted to help get Mason back and be there for me. They don’t like when people are on their own. It only endears them to me even more.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes because I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to speak too soon and blow up about Drake’s father. If I could, I’d unleash an entire load of curses on the man.

  However, when he reaches for his shirt, I stop him. “Don’t.” He looks down into my eyes, searching them. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of them. The tattoos part of your past- part of who you are,” I tell him, speaking softly and running my fingers over the inked skin. “They show what you’ve been through and that you’re strong enough to get through it.” I peer up at him.

  “You’re perfect; you know that?” He questions, looking down at me with love in his eyes. I smile, not answering his question; instead, I press my lips against his and straddle his lap.

  Our lips move together. One of Drake’s hands slides to my hip while the other travels to the nape of my neck. He holds me in place, making sure I don’t move away. His grip is firm yet gentle like he doesn’t want to let me go. I bring my hands up to his shoulders and move closer to his body, wrapping my legs around his waist.

  As we kiss, Drake moves his hands up to the neck of my jacket and strips it off, throwing it to the ground. Once the jacket is off, his lips travel to my jaw, then to my neck and shoulder. A moan slips from my lips, and I arch my back, letting him kiss and nip at the sensitive skin on my neck.

  “Athena,” he pants, pulling away. “We need to stop,” he tells me, pushing my fallen hair back behind my ear. Opening my eyes, I nod at his words and kiss him again.

  “What if I don’t want you to stop?” I ask, kissing his swollen lips again and again. He’s sweet to ask, but I want to show him how much I love him. Drake growls, pulling me impossibly closer and slamming his lips on mine. Slowly, he lowers me down onto my back and puts his hands on my waist.

  “Are you sure?” He asks, searching for any sign that I want him to stop.

  “I’m sure. I love you, Drake Morgan,” I tell him, smiling up at him. Drake whispers sweet things about me being beautiful and perfect.

  “And I love you, Athena Hale,” he tells me, connecting our lips once again.

  ~*~

  Rolling over, I reach out for Drake, expecting to feel him beside me, but all I find is air. I open my eyes to see sunlight and my man. He’s standing a little bit away from the bedding, his body language calm and peaceful. His tattoos are on full display, making me smile as I sit up. I’ll always do what I can to make sure he doesn’t feel self-conscious about his ink.

  I still can’t believe someone would put their child through that. If I guessed, they tattooed about ninety percent of his body.

  “Drake?” He turns around. He’s wearing his jeans, but his shirtless torso leaves me with a beautiful view. He smiles down at me and comes back over, kneeling in front of me. I wrap the covers around my bare body as he leans in, placing a warm kiss on my lips.

  “Morning, love, how ya feeling?”

  With a smile, I pull him back to me and kiss him, “Amazing,” I answer. And truthfully, last night was wonderful. Drake was perfect. He was gentle. He was considerate of my first time, and I loved every second with him.

  Drake smiles, looking down at me. “I have something to give you. I was going to give it to you last night, but you distracted me,” he teases, then taps his finger on my nose, which makes me narrow my eyes at him in interest.

  I smack
him on the arm while he laughs. “But, you can distract me anytime, babe,” he continues.

  Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “What did you want to give me?” He made me excited, saying that he wanted to give me something. I don’t get gifts often.

  Drake smiles, digs in his pocket, and pulls out something small. He holds up the small piece of metal, making me gasp. “Athena Hale, I want forever with you. I love you with every fiber of my being,” he says, grabbing my left hand. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you, and I knew- I knew you were the one. You’re beautiful. Amazing. Everything that I’ve ever wanted. You’re perfect, and I hope that I’m enough for you,” he says, shifting to one knee.

  I bring my hand up to my mouth as my vision blurs and my lips tremble.

  One knee.

  Oh, my God!

  One.

  Knee.

  Is he proposing?

  “I don’t have the money to buy a proper ring yet as you deserve, but I hope you can love me enough to take this scrap of metal that I made for you,” he says as tears roll down my cheeks. He holds out a dainty copper-colored ring. It’s small and has a heart with an infinity symbol in it.

  “I’m not perfect, Athena, but I want to be perfect for you. Life isn’t easy, yet I want to help make it easier for you. I’m not an angel. I’m not a ‘good boy,’ but I love you. So, Athena, will you marry me?” He asks, looking into my blurry and probably puffy, red eyes.

  I wipe at the tears falling from my eyes and nod. “Y-yes!” I choke out, throwing my arms around his neck. He holds me tightly for a second, then releases me, moving me back a little.

  “This is yours, but only until I get a better one,” he promises, speaking in a low voice.

  I shake my head as he slides the ring onto my finger. “This is perfect,” I whisper, “I love it. I love you.”

  Chapter 32

  Drake

  I never thought I’d propose to anyone, especially at eighteen. I was wrong. Dead wrong. Athena is my one. If I believed in soulmates, she’d be it. Her not judging my past sealed it for me. She could’ve run or been disgusted, but no, not Athena. She comforted me.

  Athena beams as she stares down at the ring on her finger. Squeezing her hand, I smile too. She can’t stop smiling either, which is a good thing.

  Turning down the road to our house, I slow the car. “We don’t have to get married right away,” I tell her, glancing at her. I figured it’d be at least two or three years before we get married.

  She’s still smiling when she nods. “Yeah, I think it’d be best to wait until either our last year of college or after,” she suggests. I nod in agreement as we roll into the driveway, park, and climb out of the car.

  “You ready to share the news?” I ask, turning to her. The guys sort of knew what I was doing. Mason knew, of course. Her dad isn’t around, so Mason was the next best thing, and after everything, he’s excited about our relationship.

  Athena’s eyes widen. “I forgot about everyone else!” She pauses and turns to me. “Oh, my god, my brother!” I smile. She’s so cute when she freaks out like this.

  “Hey, I wouldn’t ask you to marry me if I didn’t first ask your brother,” I tell her, cupping her cheeks in my hands. She leans into my touch and calms down, watching me with sparkling eyes. Even though she was worried, she doesn’t look any less happy. Her eyes search my face for my emotions. “You asked my brother?”

  Most girls these days would rant about independence and not needing permission. Athena just smiles. If anything, she’s probably glad I talked to Mason.

  With a nod, I lean down, pull her to me by her hips, and kiss her. She responds to the kiss but pulls away quickly. “Did you see that?” She asks, looking behind me.

  Turning around, I search the yard but see nothing. “No, what did you see?” I ask, my arm snaking around her waist protectively. She takes a step away from me and moves around the car. There’s nothing suspicious in the yard or on the street. When I reach her side, she’s standing by the tail of the car, staring at a note and a dying rose.

  “That bastard! Why won’t he leave you alone?” I growl, grabbing the note. Athena touches my arm then clutches it, her hands shaking the entire time. He waited four weeks to send this note. He’s patient. Slowly, I crush the flower in my hand and look down at Athena. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Just what we need to ruin a perfect day. Today was supposed to be a happy day. Of course, this V guy had to ruin everything. Again.

  Athena continues holding onto my arm in a daze as I lead her inside. Anger fills me at the sight of her being scared like this. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down. I should’ve tried to stop this before now.

  Once I close the door behind us, I pull her to my chest and wrap my arms around her. “You okay?”

  “All I saw was a blur,” she mumbles, looking up at me. How could V get so close without us seeing?

  Sighing, I pick her up and carry her into the living room. Everyone is awake and sitting around, so I place Athena on an open seat and kneel in front of her. “I’m going to tell the guys, okay?” I question. In response, she nods and stays quiet.

  To stay close, I sit at her feet and lean against the couch. “Guys, we need to talk,” I announce. They stop their game, noting the severe tone of my voice. Kim moves to Chase’s lap to make room for Mason to sit beside his sister.

  “What happened? Did you do it?”

  “Yeah, I- we have good news and bad news,” I say, glancing at my friends. Everyone stays quiet, and I look at Athena. “Do you want to announce the good news?” She nods, looking a little less pale, so I squeeze her hand.

  “Alec, Chase, Ross, Mason,” she looks pointedly at each of them before saying, “I want all of you to be my bridesmaids.” I laugh. They all give her a weird look, then their eyes widen.

  “You proposed!?” Alec, Chase, and Ross yell at the same time. I smile and nod, lifting Athena’s hand in mine to show them the ring. They knew I was taking her for a night alone, but I didn’t reveal I was proposing. I wanted it to be a surprise.

  “It’s a temporary ring. Also, we’re not getting married for a few years, but I wanted to propose now.”

  The guys jump up and tackle us. “This is awesome! I want to be the maid of honor!” Ross yells, hugging me, then hugging Athena. She laughs, then Chase and Alec hug her, congratulating us. Once we all calm down, everyone sits back in their spots and looks at us again.

  “Okay, good news aside, we have bad news too,” I remind them. I pull the note out of my pocket and hold it up. “While we were outside, we found another note and rose,” I tell the boys, making their faces fall. I open the note and glance at Athena, who looks nervous. Her fingers tap nervously on her leg, her teeth worry her bottom lip, and her leg jumps up and down. I know she tries to hold her emotions in, but the longer we’re together, the more I see her feelings shining through her facade.

  Taking a breath, I read the note out loud.

  Athena,

  Congrats. Say goodbye to your fiancé.

  V.

  Athena

  My eyes widen at the note, and I look at Drake. “How did he know?” I ask, panic yanking my stomach into a knot. We’d had no time to tell anyone, so was he watching us last night? I shiver at the thought. I hate this. “What does he mean by ‘say goodbye?’” Drake shakes his head, turning the note over to look for more information.

  “I don’t know, but he won’t take you away from us. We’re going to do everything we can to make sure nothing happens,” he tells me, a serious tone. I nod my head and lean against him. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his lap, my side leaning against his chest. I put my head on his shoulder and just let him hold me.

  “So, what are we gonna do?” Mason asks, looking at me with worry creasing his brow. Out of habit, he’s gnawing on his bottom lip, so I grab his hand and squeeze it. I wish this didn’t impact him or cause him to worry.

  “We don’
t know, but we’ll figure something out,” Drake answers for us. I give him a small smile and sit up. Just having these guys around makes me feel better. Together, we can think of something.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I speak.

  Once I’m up, I press a small kiss to his lips before heading up to his room. In any other circumstance, I’m sure he’d make a witty remark, but this isn’t the time to joke. They stay in the living room, their words becoming muffled by the distance as I walk. When I step into the room, an arm hooks around my waist, and a hand slaps over my mouth, muffling my cry.

  “Shut it,” a male voice spits in my ear. “Come with me, and I won’t kill your friends.” I struggle against the man’s hold, pushing against the arm clamped around my waist. His grip pins my arms to my sides. I can’t get out. I can tell it’s a man because he’s taller than me and his muscles are huge, reminding me of a basketball.

  “What will it be? I call my friends in, and they kill everyone downstairs, or you come with me?” He asks, not loosening his hold on me. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, so I nod my head. I trust in the guys. They’ll figure it out and figure out a way to help me.

  The man laughs lowly and pulls me toward the window. I have half a mind to struggle and scream, but if I do, I don’t doubt he’ll keep his promise and kill everyone downstairs. I don’t want- no, I can’t have that dream come true.

  “Give me this,” the man orders, taking my hand and snatching my ring off.

  I reach out for it, yelling a muffled, “No!”

  “Shut up,” he growls, backhanding me. My head snaps to the side, pain splintering in my cheek, and I whimper. The man ignores my pain and drags me to the open window. It’s how he got in. We should’ve locked the windows. He picks me up, glaring once more. “Make a noise, and they all die,” he warns, pushing me out.

  My body falls through the air and lands in another man’s arms. The unknown man quickly sets me down and grabs a cloth out of his back pocket. He ties it around my mouth, gagging me so I can’t make any noise. Once he’s done that, he pulls my hands behind my back and ties them together.