That’s what the look he is giving me makes me feel. Like there is a disaster headed our way.
“You’re not some blonde, dumb as nails and blasé bitch, Star. If you fucking believe that, I have no idea what that will do to us.”
I pause, taking in his locked jaw, his tense body and my racing heart. Emmett doesn’t feel like that for me. I know it and I refuse to think otherwise. It would change everything. . .
I refuse to put some truth to what that bitch Brittney said. It’s simply not true. I mean, I would know if it were, wouldn’t I?
“I care about you. More than I think I should.” I whisper, feeling like the words are being choked out of me.
“Tell me there will never be anything between you and him.” He demands, gritting the words out.
I think about the way I felt when I saw that girl wrapping her body on Emmett’s arm last Friday. I think about the way Emmett has always looked at me, the way I always felt whenever I was around him.
“Because he’s my brother, Star. He’s my brother and you. . .”
“What am I to you?” I question, feeling the need to know myself. He stops then, looking down at me like I’ve just grown two heads.
“What?”
“You heard me. What am I to you? Because you sure as hell are not my boyfriend.” I say as I fold my arms in defiance, staring up at him.
I watch as he reaches up to tug at his hair in frustrated confusion.
“Why do you need a label, Astraea. It’s always been fucking us since we met. You know this.”
This idiot.
“That’s not the same thing and you know it.” I say, watching him tug at his hair again. He’s on uncharted territory and he hates it. Doesn’t know how to navigate these waters but fuck, Ace, so am I.
Everything is new.
This is new.
You are new.
We are new.
“How isn’t it the same. We are more than some stupid labels, Star.”
“No that’s not true.” I argue, grabbing his hand so we can sit down, I’m tired of standing and the shakes are back. I need that joint to calm me down.
“Explain.” His voice thunders and I hold out my hand. He looks down at it and then up at me then he places the joint in my hand.
“I mean, for one, boyfriends always teach their girlfriends how to drive.” I start, grabbing the lighter I stole from his car on Friday.
He snorts, reaching for the lighter and then he flicks it for me. I press the joint between my lips, as he lights it for me. “You don’t fucking like to drive.”
“Yeah, but I think it’s high time I learn. And boyfriends do that for their girlfriends.” I say, as I puff the smoke from the joint around us, watching it spiral up into the air.
Ace looks at me for a bit, as if he is trying to figure out something about me.
“So what you’re saying is, in order for me to be your stupid boyfriend, I have to teach you how to drive?” He questions, eyebrow raised as if he is talking about the most ridiculous thing in the world.
I burst out laughing, feeling the tension that coated us before dissipate into the chilly air.
“God, I missed you.” I breathe out, as I pass the joint to him. I can feel his intense gaze on me as I throw my head back laughing into the silent night, then he speaks just as softly.
“You knew where to find me.”
“Noah said you were gone.” I accuse, searching for answers in his eyes but as I look at his bruised cheek, I wonder if he went to look for trouble. What am I saying, of course he went to look for trouble.
Hell, he is trouble. Everything about him is trouble.
“Do you really want to know?” He questions skeptically, having caught me staring at his bruises.
I shift closer to him, wanting to look at his face better. Wanting to reach forward and ease the pain, tend to those bruises. Help him heal.
Could I be more of a goner for this bad boy?
I lift my long shirt and then tear the fabric at the seam. He watches me with a hooded gaze as I neatly fold the torn piece of my shirt. I bring it to his bruised cheek, and then as softly as I can manage, I start dabbing at the bloodied wounds, trying to clean away the blood that I can see in the moonlight.
“You have to stop doing this to yourself.” I whisper. I know he fights, he’s always loved fighting to hide the bruises he would get from that asshole, motherfucking father of his. . .
“You should stop doing this to me.” He groans back, watching me.
“Ace. . .” I start, feeling my arms start to shake. Sometimes being close to him is too much. He’s too much.
“Your heart beats for me and you can’t even acknowledge it.” He says.
“It’s not that simple.” I respond, moving to kneel as I reach for his temple.
“You don’t do easy. We are not easy, baby.” He says as he reaches for my waist to balance me but soon, his touch is sensual, coaxing as the silence stretches between us. He presses a kiss in between my tits and I shiver.
“I’m still mad at you for keeping things from me.” I croak out, fighting the haze of lust that’s around us now.
“I know. That’s why I stayed away.”
“That’s another thing, boyfriends don’t lie to their girlfriends. They don’t keep secrets from each other.” I whisper, pulling back to stare at his lips. His kissable lips that I’m dying to have a taste of again. Because God, Ace knows how to kiss a girl.
The way Ace kisses me, it feels like I’m drowning and floating at the same time. I refuse to think of how he got so good. . .
I watch as his lips form a perfect little ‘o’ the rings of smoke puffing out like art. His body is art. He IS art. Complicated, sophisticated, broken, vicious kind of art.
“Is that so?” He questions, knowing damn well what he’s doing to my body.
“Yes.” I respond, feeling breathless.
“Then you should know that same concept applies to you, too.” He says, watching me.
“Ace. . .”
“The thing about lies though, Star, is that they build and you never know it until it all explodes in your face.” He says, passing me the joint. “And when it explodes baby, it won’t be so pretty like the fireworks you love so much on new years’ eve.”
What is happening right now? Why do I feel like he’s trying to tell me something that is evasive to me?
“Well, jokes on you I haven’t enjoyed a fireworks’ display in a long time. Not since. . .” I close my eyes and sigh. Not since I left.
Silence stretches between us for a bit and I straddle his lap, choosing to get warmth from him instead of the blanket I came with. We pass the blunt back and forth until the heavy silence forces me to change the topic before the sadness comes back.
“I want you to teach me how to fucking drive, then take me to the fair or something. Win me one of those huge, crappy teddy bears. Hold my fucking hand like in the fairytales.”
“You’ve always hated fairytales.” He interrupts, watching me.
“That’s not the point.” I say feeling a smile spreading across my face. He smirks, watching me.
“I really do want to drive.”
Silence stretches between us again, but we are not in any hurry to fill it. There is something sacred about the silent moment after we blow up at each other that we’ve cherished on this very spot since childhood. I choose that moment to press a kiss to each of his bruises. “I need to clean these out.” I tell him, after a while.
“You’re staying with me tonight.” He groans, watching me. There is a dark promise in his eyes. An image of me riding him long and hard tonight passes before my eyes. A delicious shiver moves through me and he feels it.
“Only if you agree to teach me how to drive.” I press on, choosing to negotiate. Ace will take and take from me if I let him. That will only inflate his ego and it’s already too big as it is. We can’t have him walk around with a big head now can we?
Kim would be proud of
me.
He rolls his eyes then, but just as quickly, he grows sober.
“George always wanted to do that with you.” He starts, his voice now tense, yet so damn soft at the same time, less. . .hard and hateful. “He wanted to teach you himself, because apparently, I was too reckless to teach you.”
You are much too reckless and hateful for me, Ace but I don’t know if I would want you any other way. Even though I shouldn’t.
“He knew you best.” I say, looking away from him now as an image of my brother starts floating around in my head. I miss him every single day.
Gosh George. It doesn’t feel like you’re gone, yet I can’t feel you.
“I’m working on it, Star.” Ace says and I turn to look at his waiting gaze, realizing that he was watching me the entire time.
We stare at each other in silence. I don’t bother responding because I can see that forceful will in his eyes. I know there’s something he’s working on right now and I’ll ask when I’m ready to know. Right now, I feel like could burst with everything that has come to light so far.
The questions.
The lies.
The truth itself.
“You know, we really shouldn’t be smoking these.” I whisper, halting my thoughts. Choosing to stay in the present with him.
“Maybe.” His deep voice vibrates. “But it makes you feel a bit better.” He answers as we pass the joint to each other.
“How about this, we make a promise right now that we’ll only smoke one joint a day and eventually, we’ll quit all together.” I propose, looking at him and I loop my pinky through his.
“As long as you promise that you won’t have one without me.” He counters.
“Promise.” I smile, feeling so damn light right now, ignoring the demons and the ghosts lurking close by, ready to devour me when Ace goes away.
“Good.” He breathes, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head as we gaze up at the shooting stars on a secluded little spot that I once discovered a certain boy lying there, staring up at the stars one night so long ago.
Star falls asleep after a while, leaving me the task of carrying her bridal style back to my room. Talk about light weight. This girl needs to eat more.
I can see the destructive patterns already but Star is not a fool. She might go through some things that I wish I could save her from, but she’s a fighter. She won’t go down without a fight.
I won’t let her.
I use the underground tunnel I had contracted a couple of years ago to get to my room, one that my fucking birth donors have no clue about since they were never home that year. Actually, I think I saw Denise once that year and my father not at all. Where they went, I didn’t really care as long as I kept up to date with the merges, acquisitions and business dealings that will come in handy very soon.
Speaking of which, Philip King wants to see me this week since he will be back. That gives me just enough time to find out where he was and what exactly he was doing. As for my mother. . . her demise will be the downfall of the man she stood by even when he whipped me to ‘teach me’ how to be a fucking king.
Feeling restless, I lay Astraea on my bed, my room dark with only the light from the moon filtering in through the open balcony windows as the only light source. I remove her Uggs and then kiss both her sock clad feet.
Being in this house always makes me feel twitchy, not in control as if the walls will close in on me at any second. Between the insomnia and feeling like I’m losing a grip on reality, I couldn’t stand still.
I watch her sleep for a bit, noting the way her beautiful face turns into a frown in her sleep as if even then, she’s fighting against something that displeases her.
How to make her happy when happiness was stolen from her childhood?
She wants me to hold her hand, to show her off, and declare to the rest of the world that she is my girlfriend. But what she doesn’t know is, the entire world already knows that she is mine, she was made for me. I knew that since we were children.
Except for fucking Emmett, who always seemed to challenge me when it came to her.
Astraea wants to be normal. She desperately craves the normalcy of a teenage girl life. Hell, the girls at Westbrook Blues High only care about who was wearing what, how much money they had in their back accounts and if they have banged one of the Blue Boys.
But Star wasn’t like that. She wasn’t vain and she damn well wasn’t up-tight. Extremely cautious and observant now, yes but she just wanted normalcy. She wanted to drive. She wanted to experience what dating is like.
But fuck me on a pew in church, I had no idea what that was like. I had no idea what dating girls was like simply because I have never done that before. None of these interchangeable, desperate girls around me ever made me want to make them happy.
None of them were ever worth it, no matter how beautiful they were or how deep they sucked my dick.
But even now, I don’t even know if Star is worth that much of my time when she looks at Emmett the way she does.
Fuck!
I turn away from Star, making my way to the bathroom so I can take a shower and clean these damn wounds. Tonight was brutal but cathartic. I got my fix before Emmett saved my ass from getting arrested. But that’s what we did for each other.
We were there for each other. Not against each other.
That is, until her. . .
I pull up my shirt, my movements triggering the lights to come on in the large bathroom. I walk over to the counter and just stare at myself, noting my split lip, my bleeding temple, the black eye that’s growing purplish.
I look down at my knuckles, then spread my palms flat against the counter. And sigh heavily as I close my eyes.
Before I’m even aware that she’s there, she wraps her arms around me from behind, her warm, small and delicate hands caressing my abs as she presses a kiss to my shoulder blades, and then the bruises there.
Ever since we were kids, Star has always kissed every hurt on my body, even when I wanted her to kiss me on the lips, she didn’t, but the bruises, she did. I know it’s her way of comforting me, just as she caresses my pecs.
“The skin on your back is rough.” She whispers but there is no curiosity in it, she’s figuring out what she’s seeing all on her own.
I hold my breath as she continues to touch me, feeling her gaze on my back, tracing the lines of the tattoo that started out as her eyes when she left and now, it’s her face that covers my back. I know it’s a matter of time before she sees it, and before she feels what her face hides. And to a degree. . .heals.
“You used to hate being touched on your back, but then I remember how you used to play football so roughly, and then you would fight so hard as if you were trying to get yourself hurt on purpose.” She groans, her voice dropping to a painful whisper that shatters something in my soul.
I remember what she is saying. I remember the days when I was trying to numb out some of the pain that I was already feeling. Trying to make it somewhat bearable.
“Astraea.” I growl, wanting to stop her. Wanting to stop feeling all of this.
Just fucking make it stop.
“The skin here is rough and bumpy.” She continues, ignoring me. Her fingers now tracing the lines of the tattoo but I know what she’s really touching, the rough, scarred skin on my back that is a result of the whippings I received after returning home from the fucking hospital in Switzerland.
Kings don’t mope. Kings don’t have issues. Kings grow the fuck up!
I can still hear the bellow of my father’s voice even now, echoing around in the corridors of this fucked up home that I will destroy in fire and ash soon.
“Tell me.” She whispers, pressing a kiss between my spine but what does me in is the wetness I feel on my back.
She’s crying. For me.
Immediately, I turn around, and plant my hands on her plush, sexy as sin ass and hoist her up. She wraps her legs around my waist immediately, her palms now holding my face
and I begin to walk towards the shower.
“I said stop it.” I growl out, trying to intimidate her so she can shut up and just fucking kiss me and maybe let me fuck her. But I clearly don’t know her because that just makes her press more.
“What happened to you?” She cries out again, her voice growing shrill. “Who did this to you?” She demands, looking me dead in the eyes as if the answers will be there.
I give her my best impassive gaze that I know she dislikes as I keep walking.
“Does it matter?” I bite out, reaching for the shower dials and soon, the water starts pelting down on us, cold as fuck and we are still clothed.
Gasping, Star shrieks, holding on tighter to me like a koala bear. I need to cool down before she completely hates me. Because once I get into my head, I’m hardly ever rational or composed and my need for her will show itself in a vicious way.
I can’t have her know just how much she affects me. How much she has me by my balls.
“Fucking Ace. . .” She starts again but before she can start questioning me like I owe her an explanation, I back her into the shower wall and then lower my head and fucking kiss her into silence.
I kiss her until I feel her body growing lax in my arms, feeling her tongue ring that I want on my cock, scraping around my mouth. I kiss her until the water becomes hot around us, my own arousal now heavy and hot against her, literally begging for her sweet, sweet pussy that I want to eat out and watch her shake at the same time.
I kiss her until her body starts to move wantonly in my arms. Yeah baby, I know you want me to fuck you. I know you like to play with fire and tap into that darkness but I don’t think you’re ready for me just yet.
“Ace.” She gasps. I move to lick the droplets of water on her neck, licking her and then biting at the same time. Her new haircut makes her look like a fucking wet dream and I know I need to claim her.
The entire school knows not to mess with her but with the news Spider gave me on Friday, and seeing the bastard for myself, I’m not taking any chances with fucking Myers lurking out there. I’m tracking him, but I’m waiting to see what he has in store for me. I want to know who the fuck bailed him out. Snakes always show their true colors in time. Unfortunately for that shithead, I have patience in spades.
Vicious Hate (Westbrook Blues Book 2) Page 24