Vile Intentions: A Dark Sports Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

  “What did you do to my child?” she screams, charging toward us.

  Beth steps up between us and my brain registers that she’s done this a lot today and it’s annoying.

  “Mom, stop.” Her arms are held up, but she’s in fight-flight stance and something tells me she’s not about to fight her parents and she’s also not about to run away with me.

  “Mom please,” she pleads, “I love him.”

  22

  I’ve been lying to my parents ever since I agreed to this stupid marriage, but as the words fly out of my mouth, my own tongue tries to recoil on itself.

  Liar, traitor, fool – the words pound in my chest so hard I feel like my heart’s about to make a clean escape.

  “I love him,” I hear myself say, and both my parents freeze. Everything is suspended in time, just the way it always is when something terrible is about to happen. I’m almost sure Maverick stops breathing behind me. Good. At least he’s found something to knock him a little toward reality.

  My mother drops the broom and walks over to me slowly, pulling me away from him.

  “If we’ve all tuckered ourselves out with all this unnecessary drama, I think we can actually start over and have the guest in the house be greeted properly,” Maverick says and a smile shakes on his face.

  I cringe at his disrespect. Somewhere deep down, between the softness of his voice as he spoke the words, I know he doesn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that Maverick has never been taught common human decency and when any emotion hits him – be it fear or anger or nervousness – his brain and his mouth don’t quite know how to work in harmony.

  “Young man,” my father says calmly, “I’m quite sure people worship you where you’re from. You have a handsome face and you’re British, I assume. Girls must love you. But I’ve heard about you. We have all heard about you and your friends. We know how you’ve treated our Beth over the years. You are not a guest here. You’re a trespasser and we’d like you to leave. Now!”

  “Dad,” Beth says calmly.

  “No, Beth. You’ve clearly lost your mind. You can’t possibly expect us to believe you married this guy.”

  “She did,” Maverick says. Everything about the tone of his voice says that he’s offended.

  “Don’t do this,” I chide, and his face darkens, but he holds his tongue. I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to punish me for all this later, but I will not have him disrespect my parents in their own house.

  “She’s moving in with me,” he informs them, his eyes never leaving mine and I can feel my soul wither away slowly. I don’t need to look around to see the looks on their faces. I can hear it in the gasp that escapes my mother and feel it in the sudden shift in the temperature of the room.

  “I see,” my mother says quietly, and I turn around to see her going into the kitchen, before drawing the curtains around her emotions shut.

  Dad sits down on the plastic chair and I walk over to him slowly and kneel before him.

  “I promise you, I’m not crazy. I promise you, this is a good thing. I’m doing this for us. Please help her to see that. I’m doing this for all the right reasons. I love you guys with all my heart. I swear that will never change. I’m so sorry.” My cheeks are wet with tears as I look up at the disappointment on his face. I know I’ve hurt them both, but this had to be done. There was no other way for me to help them. None at all. The restaurant was not offering me enough to pull more than my weight and with the both of them out of a job...what choice did I have? They will understand. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, they will.

  “I’m sorry daddy,” I whisper, clasping his hands in mine before standing up to cross the room into my small bedroom to gather my things.

  I’m startled when I hear Maverick by the door. “There’s no way you’ve lived here your whole life,” he says, all the regular torture missing from his tone. “It’s so…” he pauses, as though searching for a better word, but coming short, “- small.”

  “Maverick, please - ”

  “I’m just saying - ” he starts, and he almost sounds apologetic.

  “Maverick-”

  “Beth,” he whispers, drawing nearer, closing in on me. In an instant, he’s completely engulfed the space between us. “Shhh…” he instructs.

  “Maverick, please-”

  “I’m just saying-” he starts, but has the grace to stop talking when our eyes connect. I can sense his awkwardness. Being in a place like this must be very new to him. If he were someone else, I would probably be ashamed to have him here. However, after what just happened in the sitting room with my folks, I can’t bring myself to care.

  “They seem like nice people,” he says quietly, taking me by surprise. “Your dad…well…he’s certainly very different from mine.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the tone in Maverick’s voice brushes on jealousy, but that just isn’t possible. What could I have that would make Lord Maverick here jealous?

  He inches even nearer and I’m pulled in by an undercurrent of confusion from having him this close to me for the second time tonight. Every time it happens, an unfamiliar rush courses through me and stops in my most delicate place. Maybe my parents are right. Maybe I have lost my mind.

  I can feel my eyes dilating as Maverick stares intently into my face as though searching out my secrets. Almost instinctively, I squeeze them shut to stop them from betraying the insanity happening inside me and I can feel a traitorous tear welling up against my eyelid.

  The room is so quiet I can actually hear his breaths as they enter and exit his lungs, the sound becoming more and more prevalent with each second that passes – as though he’s getting closer to my face.

  My pulse quickens when I feel a tickle of his breath brush against my cheek. And then his breath is replaced by his touch as he tracks a fallen tear down my cheek before completely wiping it away.

  My father clears his throat and my eyes fly open. I can only imagine what this must look like. Which is exactly what I should want it to look like, but still, is nothing close to the truth.

  “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Dad-”

  “Tomorrow, Beth,” he says quietly. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  I stare around my cramped box of a room one last time before picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder.

  “Don’t forget, Eloise,” he whispers, and I nod, lifting an old bed sheet off the multi-purpose table by the wall to reveal my most valuable possession.

  Eloise. Named after the first person to ever put a bow in my hands when I was three.

  “Thanks dad,” I whisper and manage to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile.

  I put one foot in front of the other and push myself toward a journey I never, in a million years, thought I would ever take.

  I put one foot in front of the other, and trade the life I knew for a life that, thus far, has only brought sadness and pain and danger.

  Just as we’re about to pass each other, I stop, throwing my hands around my father’s neck and squeezing him tightly. He doesn’t hold back, embracing me the way that only a father could. He’s angry, yes. But love trumps anger every single time.

  From here, I can see mom pouting in the kitchen. There’s so much she wants to say, but she can’t find the words. I walk towards her, but she turns away. Her rejection stings more than Maverick’s annoyance.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” I whisper by the curtains before turning and heading for the door.

  23

  The car ride back to Maverick’s flat is a quiet one for me. Maverick is carrying on about something that has to do with me, I’m sure, but I don’t care enough to tune in. My mind is not here right now. Neither is my heart. To lose both in one day is nothing short of torture.

  I continue looking out the window, thinking nothing and hearing even less. When Maverick pulls into his driveway, I’m genuinely surprised and disappointed that we’ve already arrived.<
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  “Are you getting out?” he asks, and I look over at the open door.

  In a daze, I force myself out of the vehicle and quietly walk behind him.The events of the day tumble over each other in my mind, almost ripping the air from my lungs.

  I’ve moved out of my parents’ house.

  I’ve lied to my parents.

  I’m marrying a maniac.

  What in the ever living hell am I thinking?

  I follow Maverick to a guest room that wasn’t shown to me on the first tour. Further exaggerating just how unfair this wretched thing called life is. Here Maverick is, alone and cruel with his lonesomeness, but has the kind of house that could and should house a family. As for me, I’ve scavenged for space my entire life, squeezing into a room that could barely fit my thoughts, but still out of our range of affordability. Maybe that has something to do with the reason my family and I are so close and why Maverick hasn’t even a single picture of his in this massive place. You give people too much space and they’ll take it. That’s what Maverick obviously did. He accepted the space his parents put between him and them and reveled in the loneliness.

  Maverick is rattling off instructions, but I’m ignoring him. I need a break from the incessant chatter. Too much has happened tonight and I feel like I’m losing myself.

  This all seems so unreal.

  So cruel.

  Like nothing I deserve.

  I walk over to the perfectly made bed and drop the bag with my belongings on the floor beside it. Gently, I peel Eloise off my back and place her carefully on the nearby sofa.

  There is a freaking sofa in the bedroom. There’s hardly an entire sofa in my living room at home. Unfair. So unfair.

  Walking back over to the bed, I allow myself to sink into the soft inviting embrace of the memory foam mattress. Tears start flowing down my face instantly. My heart feels raw and achy as I replay the events of this unbearably long day. Everything that could have gone wrong seems to have done so in extravagant fashion. I loathe self-pity, but I am kissing the edge of that precipice as fresh tears spring to my eyes.

  ‘Enough of this, Bethany Hendrickson’ I scold myself, dragging my body off the bed and heading for the bathroom to take a very long, hot shower in an attempt to wash my woes away.

  24

  The plain white judgment of my bedroom ceiling as I open my eyes, makes me acutely aware of just how royally I fucked up last night. Everything about last night had been one impulsive decision after another and now, Beth is living in my flat.

  Fucking Bethany Hendrickson. Jesus.

  There’s a text on my phone from Collin inviting me and my fiancé to visit his office today. I drag myself out of bed and head to the bathroom to arm myself for the long-ass weekend that lay ahead of me.

  The hot water bites into my skin and I relish the pain as it dissipates into a bearable numbness. My thoughts have been haunted by that dingy flat all night, like something from a horror film. Such poverty should qualify as an extreme sport. Seriously, they deserve an award for being able to survive there for as long as they have.

  I doubt they’ve ever had a surplus of anything, maybe just about enough. Yet, somehow, despite the unquestionable lack, it’s obvious that they aren’t short on love. I could see it in the way they handled the disappointment. No harsh words, no violence. A part of me still can’t believe there is such a thing as parenting without manipulation. But I saw it last night and god do I wish I could somehow relate.

  As I shampoo my hair, I remember my finger on Beth’s cheek and the way she hid from me as though she had a secret hidden behind her eyes that she didn’t want to reveal. Especially not to me.

  My own body had betrayed me, though she was too busy hiding from me to notice. It makes no sense. I despise girls like her. So plain. So poor. So innocent. Perfectly untainted. Not broken and battered like the rest of us.

  Still, there was something about her that riled me up and intrigued me, and the more she pissed me off, the more intrigued I became. It’s self-torture of a brand new kind.

  ‘Get it together, Williams,’ I scold myself, letting the water take the foam of the shampoo from my hair, ushering it down my body.

  I watch the water dance down the drain, thinking that the mundaneness of it will help to wash Beth away from my mind. Instead, I’m flooded with memories of the first time she came here. Of her first time in my shower. The show I’d forced her to put on.

  Her naked figure appears before me and I groan at the sudden tug in my balls.

  “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I stare down at my slowly growing cock.

  “This is Beth we’re talking about,” I try to reason with it, but the memory of the supple bounce of her breasts sitting high up on her chest, the dip and curve of her surprisingly toned stomach, the muscles in her legs and the neat trim of an even more neatly tucked vagina keep appearing before me.

  I suppose I understand why that Tyler guy was so quick to defend her. He’s probably seen the goods too. They’re nice goods. Really fucking nice goods. I bet she tastes like heaven too. So much so that I wouldn’t mind burying my face in her pussy or her ass and licking until my tongue catches a cramp. Shit. Fuck. That’s not what I’m supposed to be thinking.

  “For the love of God, shut up,” I groan to myself, fully erect and straining for release.

  My hands firmly grip my shaft and I squeeze, my toes curling at the sensation.

  I close my eyes and slowly stroke my full length up and down, rotating my hand just a little here and a little there. Out of nowhere, I picture Beth, on her knees kneeling before me, eagerly waiting to taste me as she trails her fingertips along my skin and I shiver from her gentle touch.

  When she takes me into her mouth, my head falls back and my face is greeted by a direct spray of water. The strokes are faster, more urgent as she pulls me deeper into her throat and I can feel horses galloping inside my chest as I approach my climax.

  Her eyes stare up at me the same way they did last night as I pinned her to the door, the same way they did before she closed them and ran. It was the only show of weakness I’ve seen from her since this whole fiasco started.

  I feel my balls tighten when I hear her scream, “I love him” and I cum all over the bathroom wall.

  “Fuck.”

  25

  “Hello Mrs. Williams. Maverick,” Collin shakes both our hands.

  I make a sour lemon face at Collin and Beth rolls her eyes at him.

  “Just Beth is fine, thanks.”

  “Actually dear, it isn’t. I understand you managed to move in together. Great choice. Thank you for listening to me for a change.” He nods towards me before offering us refreshments which we both refuse. He leaves them on the table just in case.

  He’s dressed more casually than he would be in the week, but he’s still maintained his corporate appeal in his dark blue jeans, burgundy Oxford shirt and a black sweater vest with black Louis Vuitton shoes.

  “Going forward, you’re both going to have to get accustomed to titles...well just you Mrs. Williams since Maverick’s name hasn’t changed.”

  “Well neither will mine… technically,” she informs him. “I don’t intend to take his surname.”

  “I see. Well, I took the liberty of getting your lease adjusted, Maverick, to reflect your upcoming nuptials. Under the law, you’re now a legally abiding tenant.” He addresses Beth and she looks genuinely surprised. “I’ll have them amended to change your name back to the original.”

  “Thanks.” She nods, not looking pleased or displeased. Why the hell is it always so damn hard to get a read on her?

  “How much do you two actually know about each other?” he asks with a neutral expression.

  Beth glances up at me then shakes her head, “not much…he’s British?” She shrugs and I scoff at her half-hearted effort.

  Collin chuckles then nods. “Maverick.”

  “She plays the violin. She calls it Eloise for some reason.�
� My voice starts trailing off at the mention of the name and adopts the reverence it deserves. I stifle a chuckle as I watch her eyelids turn into butterfly wings. Her mouth opens slightly as if to say something, but she remains quiet. Collin smiles at her reaction, stealing a glance at me with so small a nod that I’m sure Beth missed it.

  “He seems to be paying attention. Don’t worry Beth. I’m as surprised as you are.”

  He isn’t. He knows why the name of her violin would stand out to me, but I’m grateful that he chooses to say nothing. Her expression seems softer than it was a few moments ago and I’m strangely pleased to have offered that detail. She seems to have a deep appreciation for the violin.

  I could tell her affection is second nature to her. I knew she wasn’t paying attention to me last night but even then, her fingers had gently caressed the edges of her case the way a mother would gently stroke its young.

  She reminded me of someone I hadn’t allowed myself to think about for years.

  I still don’t want to think about her now. Those thoughts hurl me into a blackness unlike anything else in this world. A soul-sucking train wreck down memory lane with me blindfolded by a kind of palpable grief that is enough to change a person, no matter if child, man or monster.

  “I have a standard form for situations like this.” Collin interrupts my darkening thoughts.

  “This does not surprise me at all.” I mock him light-heartedly, grateful for the distraction.

  Collin is one of the best Attorneys in the state and by best, I mean richest. Most of his success can be attributed to the fact that he is very open-minded in his approach to the law.

  He’s my kind of people.

  “I’ve created a list of questions that I need you both to answer and when you’re done you can exchange it. Read it through carefully. Talk it over. Memorize it. It’s quite a list and I don’t expect you to complete it today. Well, certainly not here. We have other things to go over. I’ve considered the process and I think a month in between your wedding and the petition would be good. In that time, I need you two to rack up photos and other forms of evidence that prove a legitimate marriage. Take a vacation, go to his games, I don’t care. I need you to start acting like a teenage couple in love.”