Flip Trick
Page 20
I bury my face in my hands. “Yes. I’m going to fucking sue.”
My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating in my back pocket since I left. I know I need to work, or call the director, Tim, to let him know I’ll need a break, but I can’t face the music right now. Right now, I need to fix whatever mess has just erupted.
I swallow, laying on my back. I’m tired. So tired my eyelids feel heavy, but I can’t sleep. It’s like my brain is trying, but my body is fighting it. “Why doesn’t he want to see me?”
Leila sighs, lying beside me. “I don’t know, Ame. We’re all exhausted from your guys’ back and forth. I mean, it’s been years and you both still can’t make up your minds.”
I turn to face her, resting on my side. “It’s hard.”
She turns her face to look at me. “What’s so hard, Ame? Fuck. It’s simple, really. You’ve both been in love with each other since you were seven years old. What’s so hard about that?”
“That is what is hard about that,” I snort. “Jesus, Leila. I fell in love with him at age seven. That’s not romantic. That’s fucking sad, confusing and chaotic. I would have rather found him when I was older. Old enough to know my feelings. I fell in love with Maddox before I knew how to jump. Now I’m drowning.”
Her hand comes to my cheek. “And what do you feel now?”
“Now?” I exclaimed, turning away from her. “Now I’m mad that he doesn’t want to see me.”
She sighs. “Elliot is bringing him back. But he’s in trouble and I don’t know what’s going to happen with his next fight. Did you know he bought a private jet? Named it Flyaway.”
“He what?”
I know that he’s rich. He’s on Forbes highest paid athletes list at number one. Number freaking one. Raking in a staggering three hundred million a year. He has just never been that person to me, or to our family. I stay away from the tabloids to stay away from my own drama, but it helps because I don’t really see his updates either. He named the jet Flyaway, and I know why. Everything fucking hurts, I’m so sick of hurting. Maybe I should check Instagram. He doesn’t follow me there, but we are still friends on Facebook. He hasn’t logged into that account in years, though, probably around the time he got famous. He has ninety million followers on Facebook alone, his personal Facebook is that—personal. He only has a hundred thirty-four friends on that account, but again, he hasn’t logged in.
“Yup. He bought a private jet to match his twenty-million-dollar superyacht.”
“Jesus,” I whisper, shaking my head. “And he named it after our song.”
Leila leans forward, getting to her feet. “The Lenny Kravitz song?” Her face pales, and then she shakes her head as if she’s drained. I feel a pang of guilt for that. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want to see you, but maybe it’s a good time to ask him.”
She leaves, shutting the door behind herself. I appreciate it, it gives me enough time to process my thoughts. I take my phone from my back pocket and send a quick email to my assistant, asking her to put in time for work. Alesha emails back instantly.
From: Alesha Hope
To: Amethyst Tatum
Subject: Re: Sex tapes ruin lives.
I’m so sorry, Amethyst. Of course. Please call Lionel and sue that son of a bitch. I’ve attached his number to this email. Take as much time as you need.
Regards, Alesha Hope
Personal Assistant to Amethyst Tatum
I chuckle, typing out a quick reply. Alesha is all of nineteen, but she has spunk. I like her. I’m finishing off the email when my smile falls. I click on my contacts and slowly scroll.
Anne
Bee
Chantal
Caro
Don’t answer this number
Ellie
Franci
Gigi
Harry
Indy
Justin
Kim
Lyla
Maci
Maddox
I hover over his name and then scroll down more.
Manda
Michelle
I scroll back up and before I know what I’m doing, I hit dial.
The phone rings. Keeps ringing. Just when I’m about to hang up, it clicks over.
Silence.
“Maddox?” It comes out as a whisper. I clear my throat when he doesn’t answer. “I’m at Leila’s if you want to see me.”
More silence.
Then the line goes dead.
Well alright then. I throw my phone across the room and strip out of my clothes, leaving me in panties and my bra before slipping under the covers. I hit the lamp off.
So tired.
AMETHYST
I feel the mattress sink beside me and my eyes fly open. A dark shadow sits, head buried in his hands.
“Maddox?”
“Don’t—” His voice breaks through. It’s soft yet hard, completely contradicting itself. “Don’t fucking say anything, Amethyst.”
I smell the harsh scent of whiskey mixed with his cologne and cigarette. Or is it cigar smoke. “You smell like hookers and bad decisions.”
“Yeah?” he asks, the shadow finally turning slightly to face me. The moonlight is subtle, but it’s splitting through the blinds slightly from the window behind me. “That’s not fucking hookers, that’s a fucking jail cell, and bad decisions? Always.”
I shuffle up the bed, pulling my knees into my chest. “You need a shower.”
“I should hate you,” he says, ignoring my suggestion about a shower.
“And you do,” I reply softly, clearing my throat.
He snorts, getting to his feet and then gripping onto my ankles and dragging me across the bed. “That’s where you’re fucking wrong.”
I swallow. “I’m never wrong.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not. Not when it comes to you.”
“Oh?” His head tilts, and his hand comes to my throat. His index finger traces my collarbone, leaving a trail of fear in its wake, then his hand wraps around my throat. “I could kill you.”
I gulp. “I can’t breathe.”
“Good.”
“Maddox, I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
“That’s undecided, princess. I’m a different man now.”
I whack his hand away, but it doesn’t move. “Cut the shit, Maddox.” His other hand disappears into his pocket, then he pulls out his phone, flashing the screen in my face. The light assaults my eyes, much like his hand is doing to my throat.
His lips come to my ear. “You wait until he’s thrusting his cock inside your little cunt, and then you whisper out those fucking words to him, Amethyst, hmm? And not to me?”
“I—” He loosens his grip, but only after squeezing tight for a brief second. “I didn’t mean to! I was—I was high and drunk. I don’t even remember that day fully, I didn’t even know that—” Wait. Hold the fuck up for a minute. Now is not the time to admit that he taped it without my knowledge. I’ll tell Maddox another day.
“Say it…” Maddox whispers, stretching my leg wide. His rests between my thighs and presses against me. My eyes slam shut. I’m not saying shit. “What did you say, Amethyst?”
I shake my head.
His other leg comes between mine and he stretches my other wide. I can feel his cock pressing into my pussy. Oh God.
He must push play because my voice is the next thing I hear.
“Yes,” I moaned in the video.
Cringe.
“You like that dick, baby? That’s my pussy….” Travis liked to talk a lot of shit. Cringe again.
“Mine.” He had said again. “Say it, say it’s mine.”
Tears pinch the corner of my eyes as memories slowly drift back in from that day. The cocaine, the weed, the alcohol. The partying, the sex, the kissing, the threesome with another girl, more sex, more cocaine, and then the stumbling upstairs to that bedroom. Travis’s bedroom. I trusted him. I shouldn’t have. I was weak, weak from love. Weak from not
having my lifeline, Maddox.
“Say it, Amethyst. Say that pussy is mine,” Travis repeated. “Who owns this pussy? Who owns you?”
Silence stretches out. You hear nothing but the bed squeaking and the loud slapping of sweaty bodies, then my voice. So soft, so defeated, so fucked up, whispers out, “Maddox Stone.”
Maddox grinds into me, tossing his phone onto the bed. I can still hear the muffled sounds though, the sounds of me trying to reach my orgasm. So forced, so fake. I thought of Maddox the entire time.
Maddox brings his hand to my thigh, pulling it up higher to rest on his hip. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” His tone sounds strained.
I’m trying not to meet his slow thrusts, but every time he grinds into me, everything down there is throbbing, aching to be touched. Meanwhile, my heart is thudding, pleading to be broken. Just do it, he’s going to break it anyway because that’s what he does. Maddox severs it every single fucking time, but he doesn’t put it back together again afterward. He leaves the remnants of my heart on display for everyone to see, just so he can say, ‘I did that. She’s mine.’ His way of owning me is by breaking me.
“I—I—” For fuck’s sake, Amethyst.
His hand comes to my breast. “Why the fuck didn’t you come to me if you wanted me that bad.” He tears my bra down, his thumb skating over my swollen nipple. “Did you think of me every time he fucked you?”
His lips are now hovering over mine, his breath falling over my cheek. “Answer me, Rosé...” The tip of his nose glides over mine. “Did you think of me every time he did this?” he grinds himself against me, so hard. Hard.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. He pinches my nipple, the borderline of pain and pleasure starts to shake like it always does in bed with him.
“What about this?” He licks over my jawline and then traces his tongue down my throat. I bite down on my lip to stop my moaning.
Then his finger dips inside the rim of my lace panties, his bare knuckle sliding against my clit. His finger dips inside of me and I clench around him.
He pulls it out and brings it to my mouth. “Suck.”
I do, opening my mouth and sucking myself off his finger. Liquid metal slides down my throat and my eyes pop open, counting the dates when I might be due for my period.
He chuckles. It wasn’t a nice chuckle. It was dark and testing. “That’s not you, Rosé,” then slides his finger out of my mouth. “That’s your revenge.” Travis’s blood? That should make me sick, but it doesn’t. My body is on fire and everything south is screaming to be touched, fucked and ruined.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, reaching for his mouth. I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me. I need him like I need air.
He laughs again, leaning up on one elbow and making his way back to the foot of the bed. He stands, removing his shirt. I want to cry, that’s how sexy he looks, even though I can’t see him that well.
“As much as my dick is aching to see you lose your shit underneath me, no. You’ve been a brat and you need to be punished.”
“So punish me!” I yell, a little too loudly. I hope Leila’s walls are thick. I’ll try my soft side, I know how much he loves that.
I crawl to him, reaching for his belt buckle and tug on it. He doesn’t stop me. “Punish me the way I know you can, Maddox.” My finger dips under the waist of his jeans and I tug down. He remains statue still. I wish I could see his face right now. Bet that jaw is stone. “Make me hurt. Slice me open and break me, then lick my wounds better again.”
He growls, and then pushes me back down onto the bed, tearing my bra and panties off. My hair sprawls out everywhere. He pulls the belt off his jeans, folding it over. A loud slapping sound breaks out, then silence. Shit.
“Turn over.”
I gulp.
“Now, Amethyst or I’ll double it.”
I turn, putting my ass in the air. He presses down on my lower back until I snap into a perfect arch. Then he pelts the belt down on my ass cheek. “Who do you belong to?”
“Ouch!” I cry out, my face scrunched up in pain.
Slap. “Who, Amethyst?”
Slap.
“You!” I scream into the pillow.
Slap. “Say my name.”
“Maddox Stone,” I sob, relishing in the sting that’s now traveling down to my opening. He dips his finger inside of me and swirls. “I’m still going to punish you, baby. Just in a different way.” He snatches his phone and then the scene is replaying again. He puts it down under my face, so I’m looking straight at it. I clench the sheets.
“Who owns you, Amethyst. Mine.”
I squeeze the sheets harder, wanting the video to stop.
Maddox’s tongue slips inside me from behind, his thumb pressing on my clit. Pleasure, pain, and sadness consuming me.
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper, grinding myself onto his mouth but watching as my tears drop onto the screen of his phone. Pelts of tears smudge over parts of the video.
He doesn’t answer.
My core clenches, my abs tensing. Sparks ignite behind my eyes and I lose it, my legs shaking as pleasure ripples through me. My body jolts during my come down. The video is still playing. When Maddox fills me, it’s playing. When he pulls out and thrusts inside of me, I hear Travis’s voice. When I come undone again, I hear myself say “Maddox Stone” in the video. When Maddox thrashes into me relentlessly, the video replays. When he fucks me until I burst again, I hear “Who owns this pussy.”
I scream out, “Maddox fucking Stone!” As he releases around me and I him, for the fourth time. We tumble down onto the sheets, both wet and panting. The video is playing again, but Maddox picks it up and throws it toward the window, it smashes through.
I flinch.
He pulls me into his arms, wrapping me up. We’re both still trying to catch our breath when I yawn against his hard chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks breathlessly. I’m not sure if he’s asking me or himself, but I answer.
“I couldn’t. Why are you surprised, Maddox. You knew what it was like with you and I. Why are you surprised?”
“Oh, I’m not surprised,” he says, rolling on top of me. His body is pressing mine into the mattress, his dick coming to my opening. I’m so tired, my body so drained, but with him there again, my body lights up like the Fourth of July.
His lips come to mine. “Do you love me?” he asks through a whisper, his lips skimming against mine.
“Yes,” I answer truthfully. “I never stopped.”
He groans, sinking inside of me. He slides into me softly and then pulls out. Finally, he kisses me, and it’s the best kiss that I’ve ever had. His tongue slips inside my mouth and I moan softly, my fingers coming to the back of his head. I tug on his hair softly, grinding against his movements. We never break the kiss. Our lips staying locked the entire time. He fucks me slow and sensual. His tongue sliding in and out against my own in carnal movements. Sweat rubs between our bodies with each grind, his pelvic bone crushing against my clit. He circles my hips as our kisses turn sloppy. Our tongues and lips crashing together in a desperate attempt to get as much of each other as possible. I reach my peak and let go, my body now achingly sore as I jerk through my come down. He follows, his cock throbbing inside of me as he unleashes.
He collapses onto me, kissing my forehead and rolling off, pulling me into his chest again.
“Ditto, baby.”
MADDOX
I hadn’t thought too much about my actions in the past few days, but that’s nothing new. I never did when it came to Amethyst, but even I’ll admit that wasn’t smart. Knowing I had a huge title fight coming up, I didn’t need to risk my reputation by flying me and a few of my boys to LA to beat the shit out of a little fucking fuck that set out to hurt the only girl who has ever truly meant anything to me—aside from Ken. I saw the video when I was training, and I lost it. The boys were already there with me, warming up. We went straight to the airs
trip and it was game time. Took roughly ten seconds to find out where Travis was. They say money can’t buy you happiness, but that’s a lie broke fucks tell other broke fucks. Money does and can buy you anything you need, but it’s common intellect that it can’t buy you. For instance, don’t be a cunt. Money doesn’t turn you into a piece of shit. If you’re a piece of shit when you got money, then you’re a piece of shit when you don’t have it. What it did do was buy me his address.
I got there to Travis spewing hate toward Amethyst. He looked a fucking mess. Pale skin, purple rings under his eyes, ratty long hair, skinny little arms. I didn’t want to hurt him, but then he said something dumb and I don’t know, my fist sort of flew and connected with his jaw.
Snap.
I knew I broke it with one hit, but I couldn’t stop. Flashes of him fucking Amethyst played in my brain. Flashes of him the last time I saw her when she was pregnant. Her telling me to leave. I took it all out on him with every hit, and before I knew it, I was wet with his blood and the cops were there. He’s in a coma right now, which has put a delay on my fight. I thought people would be mad, but I guess rumors have started circulating and my public relations team have started to make a field day out of the whole thing.
The fans love it, it’s like a fucking modern-day Romeo and Juliet story, only no one is dying because I won’t fucking allow it. People are wondering what the connection between Amethyst Tatum and Maddox Stone is, and then making up their own stories. Photos have circulated online too of me and her when we were in college, then there are more articles about her mom and my dad. It’s all a fucking mess, but I’m not going to tidy it up. My personal life is my fucking personal life, I owe no one any explanations—especially when it comes to Ame.
I slam my front door closed, heading straight to the fridge. I left Leila and Wolf’s early this morning, needing to gather my thoughts. I don’t want to go down this road with her again unless the road is endless. I won’t do detours or fucking dead ends with her—not again. If this isn’t it, I will never do it with her again, so I’m hesitant to jump into anything with her. Last time I went all in, she fucking folded on me when she should have spoken with me first.