by T. E. Black
She hops up into my truck, settling herself in the front passenger seat. I give her a pat on the head as I pull out my ringing phone. It’s Evan.
He’s calling me to give me the twenty-four-seven updates on Callie again. He called me after the whole garage shit happened saying Sierra was extremely pissed off at me for making Callie cry. I don’t really blame her. I’m still fucking pissed off at myself.
I took Ryleigh’s advice and tried to give her some space, but it was impossible when Evan texted me with Callie’s every move. I told him I didn’t want that shit, but he insisted it gave him something to do since Sierra was holding fucking her against him for siding with me.
I answer the phone, starting up my truck.
“What’s up man?”
“The ban has been lifted motherfucker! Sierra is officially back to letting me fuck the shit out of her!” he yells into the phone proudly.
I let out a loud laugh.
“If she hears you telling me this, she’s gonna kick your ass.”
“Yeah I know, but she’s upstairs with Callie doing all that girly shit they do when they’re going out.”
I feel my ears perk up at the mention of going out. I’m not sure why I care, but I still have to ask.
“Where are they going?”
“Some party at the frat house. You remember that stupid little fuck, Chase? The one from the football team?” he asks.
I think about it for a second before knowing exactly who he’s talking about. Chase Daniels. He’s a frat boy and a complete tool. Something about that little fucker rubs me the wrong way. I’m sure he’s the reason the dean found out I was banging one of the professors, Ms. Ferrio. This was a couple years ago, but I know it was Chase who ratted us out. He stumbled into the parking lot as I had her buck ass naked and riding me in the driver's seat of my truck. It’s not like the dean could do anything, being I wasn’t a student, but she gave me a long lecture about how she didn’t care who I screwed as long as it wasn’t on her campus. I don’t agree with the frat house’s idea of fun at parties. Long story short, I don’t like that little piece of shit.
“Yeah I remember the dumb fuck. How the fuck did the girls end up invited to one of his parties?” I ask.
“Well, I guess Callie has a class with him and he invited her. She told Sierra about it and my lovely girlfriend thought it would be fun.”
The thought of that fucker touching Callie pisses me the fuck off. I can only imagine him flirting with her in class while he checks her out.
I feel Nanook nudge me, suggesting I pet her while I talk.
“You going with them?” I ask, praying he is.
He lets out a loud laugh.
“Ya think I'd let those girls go there alone to a rippah? They’re like a prime rib to a starving animal. Maybe they’ll think twice before trying anything with either of them if I’m there.”
Relief instantly floods me. If he wasn’t going, I’d be going instead. There’s no way I want Callie around those assholes without someone there to watch out for her. I highly doubt she’d enjoy me crashing the party, so at least if Evan’s there he can let me know if anyone needs the shit kicked out of them.
“Let me know if you need me. I’ll be there,” I confirm.
“Sounds good man, I’ll let ya know if I need help kicking some tool asses.”
I end the call, looking down at Nanook.
“What am I gonna do with this girl?” I ask her.
She tips her head to the side, giving me a confused look. I sigh loudly, running my hand through my hair. I’m now asking my dog for advice. I’m fucked up.
Sierra insisted I pull out the little black dress I bought when we first went shopping. I tried to tell her I thought it was a little too much especially for a house party, but she didn't give me room to argue. Evan seemed extremely pissed off with me wearing it, but Sierra gave him an earful and he stopped complaining.
His exact words were, “How am I supposed to watch both of you when you two are dressed like that?”
I guess I understand where he’s coming from. I mean, Sierra is just as dressed up as I am, and I’m sure we’ll be the focus of the party looking like this. Evan will have an eventful night if I’m right.
Evan drove us instead of taking a cab being he said he wasn’t drinking. At least with Evan driving, I can convince him to make a quick getaway if need be. If it was Sierra driving, we’d be here all freaking night.
We pull up to the party and my jaw hits the floor of the truck. When Chase said his buddy was having a small party, that’s what I assumed…a small party. This is anything but.
The house is absolutely huge with some kind of frat banner hanging across the top of the door. People take up every space of the lawn. The music is deafening. Even with the windows in Evan’s truck rolled up, I still can hear Nick Jonas’s “Jealous” spilling from the house.
Evan turns off the truck, hopping out with Sierra, and I follow suit. He waits for us to walk in front of him and then stays close on our heels. As soon as we reach the front door, a very large man with a black shirt which reads “Security” asks for our ID’s. He lets us pass when he confirms we’re legal.
If I thought the number of people out front was a lot then the inside has to be chaos. There’re so many bodies I don’t even know where to look. At least my attire isn’t totally crazy. Most of the women seem to have almost nothing on as they dance with the men.
Evan escorts us to the keg, grabbing drinks for us. He lectures us not to leave our drinks unattended for a second. I scoff at him as he tells me this. It’s not something that's new. I’ve been to parties and I know what some men will do to get some.
I feel a hand touch my lower back and I get ready to yell at whoever thinks it’s okay to touch me like that. I turn around and see a drunk Chase. He’s smiling from ear to ear, looking me up and down.
“Damn girl, your dress should be illegal. You look smoking!” he slurs, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
I give him a small forced look, trying to dodge his flirtatious remark.
"Thanks. I was a little worried about being overdressed, which it seems I am compared to all the girls in only their bra and panties." I joke.
Chase surveys the room shrugging his shoulders.
"What can I say, the girls around here like to have a good time," he gloats.
I bet these girls love having a good time. They sure look the part. Class definitely isn’t something hanging around this party, that’s for sure.
Evan walks behind Chase, smacking his hand down a little too hard on his shoulder. Chase seems startled when he spins around to see Evan.
"Uh, hey man. What are you doing here? Didn't think this was your kind of party."
Evan grins evilly while he whispers something only Chase can hear. I wait for someone to tell me what's going on, but instead Chase looks like a deer in headlights.
"Nah bro. I just wanted to get to know Callie here a little better," he says, seeming nervous and on edge.
Evan grits his teeth nodding his head toward Sierra and I.
"Don't get too friendly or I'll have to break all ten fingers you little cock suckah."
I shoot Evan a menacing glare as I grab Chase's hand leading him to the dance floor. This is ridiculous. I’m not a child, and Evan has no right to threaten anyone when it comes to me. I understand he's trying to look out for me, but now just out of spite, I'm gonna let Chase cop a few feels.
We make it to an empty spot to dance and I spin around, grinding my ass against Chase. He's stiff as a board at first as he leans closer, asking me, "You with Davis?"
I tip my head back to look at him.
"I'm not with anyone," I snap.
Obviously Evan told him I'm Mac's property, and it makes me livid. Mac and I are barely on speaking terms and Evan pulls that shit.
His eyes light up and his smile widens. He places his hands on my hips, moving against me to the music.
"Well, in that cas
e, wanna dance?"
I let out a small laugh, nodding my head. I grind against Chase. His hands search my body, touching every one of my curves with a rough grip. I laugh lightly throwing my arms around his neck and let him keep roaming my body. He's a good dancer and he's really not bad looking. But then again, it might be the dim lighting in here.
I feel one of Chase’s hands touch my thigh, trying to slip under my dress and I start panicking a little. Spinning around, I put my hands on his chest, pushing him back a step. In the process, some drunken girl bumps into me, spilling what I assume is beer all down my back.
I turn around, getting ready to scream at her for being so clumsy, but instead there's no more girl behind me. My heart actually stops for a minute; at least it feels like it does. There stands a huge, and very pissed off looking, Mac.
His eyes roam my body, taking in my tiny dress and heels. I stare at him with wide eyes as he pushes me gently behind him. I protest, but instead he cuts me off by reaching for Chase and shoving him into the sea of people.
"Mac!" I scream at him, but I don't even think he hears me.
It all happens too fast to follow every detail. Chase screams at Mac while everyone turns their heads to see the action. I watch Chase get up, brushing off party garbage from his white polo shirt. I think for a minute he will back down, but instead he tries to lunge at Mac, which leaves him with his windpipe being crushed by Mac's strong hand. I hear Chase scrambling to breathe and Mac screaming in his face.
"Keep your fucking hands off her you piece of shit! That fucking girl is mine! You fucking hear me? I swear to fucking God, if I ever see you so much as glance in her mother fucking direction, I’ll make sure you eat out of a fucking feeding tube for the rest of your pathetic life!"
I attempt to reach for Mac, but Evan’s arms wrap around me from behind, holding me against him. I pound on Evan’s arms.
"Evan, Let me go! He's going to kill him!" I yell at him, clawing at his hands frantically.
I hear Sierra yelling at Mac and Evan from a distance as Evan leans down to answer me.
"He had it coming Callie. I told him not to touch you," he confirms calmly.
Sirens blare in the distance. Great, we’re all going to get arrested because Mac is a goddamn psychopath.
Someone yells “Cops!” and everyone runs toward the door. Everyone except Mac, who still has hold of Chase’s neck. Evan gets pushed around in the crowd and is forced to lose his hold on me.
I sprint toward Mac. I haven't seen his face since he grabbed Chase and what I see scares the crap out of me. Every muscle in his body is flexing like they want to pop. His eyes are so red, the green I've come to love is nonexistent.
Oh my God. I just, in my head, thought, I loved his eyes. I…Oh God.
This isn’t the time or place to rehash my last thought. So, I move toward Mac carefully and slowly placing my hands on his arm, trying to get him to loosen his grip. If he feels me touching him, he doesn't show it.
"Let him go, Mac," I speak.
He doesn't acknowledge me for a second. Giving it another go, I speak a little louder this time.
"Mac, you have to let him go. The cops are coming, and if you don't let him go, you're going to kill him."
Mac's nostrils flare. He turns, no doubt seeing the tears which stream down my face. He pulls his hand back, letting Chase go. Chase drops to the floor, clenching his neck with both hands, gasping for air he lost.
Mac doesn't speak. He grabs my wrist, tugging me behind him in the opposite direction of the front door.
"Mac! You're going the wrong way!" I yell to him, but he ignores me, trudging us through the frantic crowd.
A kitchen door to the left comes in sight. Mac picks up our pace, dragging me through the door and out into the fresh night air. I look around and see we’re in a darkened alleyway. I can see the red and blue lights from the police cars in the front of the house.
Hearing a click, I look up, seeing the truck’s parking lights turn on. Mac's truck is there. We make it there in record time. We get in and speed out of the alleyway all the while never saying a word. He drives the opposite direction of the house, leaving the flashing lights in the distance.
"Mac, why aren't you saying anything?" I ask him.
He still doesn't speak. He stares out the windshield in his own world. I notice his breathing is steady, but his red ears give me the impression that his blood pressure is through the roof right now.
"Mac, what the hell was that back there?" I yell at him
I'm scared of him. He's not my Mac. He's someone entirely different again, and I don't know how to make the old one come back.
I jolt forward as Mac swerves into a dirt patch on the side of the road and I cringe at the sudden movement. He throws the truck into park, jumps out, and slams the door with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. I watch him round the front, coming around and flinging my door open.
I shrink back in my seat, looking the opposite way of him. I hear the click of my seat belt unhooking and Mac quickly pulls me from the truck. He slams my door just as hard as his. I back into the truck crossing my arms over my chest, trying to control my now more frequent sobs.
"You're scaring me," I get out between hiccups.
Why can't she just shut the fuck up? If she would, maybe I could calm the hell down. My blood is boiling and I'm trying my best not to blow the hell up on her again. That little fucker is lucky I didn't kill him when I saw his hands trying to slide up her dress. That dress. That little black fucking dress caused all of this shit. I have no idea why she would wear something so damn revealing to a frat party. It was like she was asking for it. Even though she looks sexy as fuck, the dress is enemy number one right now.
When Evan called me, I answered immediately despite having some bimbo from the bar kneeled down in front of me trying to get my cock in her mouth. I was gonna let her, too. I needed it. I need it. I didn't even ask the broad her name. Just offered her what she wanted. My phone rang and I practically shoved the girl across my bedroom. I knew he wouldn't be calling if something wasn't wrong.
"Dude, ya need to get the fuck down here now!" Evan yelled loudly over the background noise.
Letting the chick from the bar keep rubbing my erection through my jeans, I sit up, running a hand through my unruly hair.
"Why? What's going on?" I ask, on edge.
"That little fucker is all over Callie, man, and she's fucking letting it happen."
I shove the girl off me. I hear her screaming at me, asking why I would do that. I ignore her. Hopping off the bed, I gather her shit and toss it at her.
She stands up, straightening her dress and yelling at me more.
"What's wrong with you?"
I switched my attention back to Evan on the phone.
"I'll be there in five."
I hang up my phone and the girl is still yelling at me. I don’t give a fuck.
I usher her downstairs and out the front door. I walk to my truck, but I stop her when she tries to follow me.
"How am I supposed to get home?" she yells.
I grab a twenty out my wallet, tossing it her way in the rudest way possible. I don't give a fuck at this point how she gets home, but it isn’t going to be with me.
"Thanks for the good time sweetheart. Call yourself a cab. I don't really care what you do with the money, but you're not getting in my truck, and you better be long gone by the time I get home," I state offhandedly.
I jump in my truck and hear a thunk against my passenger window. I catch a glimpse of her high heels bouncing off it.
"Crazy bitch!" I yell at her through the closed window.
There is no way in hell I’m rolling my window down. There's a good chance if I did, there would be a high heel embedded in my forehead.
I speed off, heading toward the frat house on campus. I'm decently calm until I'm about half way there. The closer I get, the more I feel myself gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. My teeth clench thinking abo
ut Chase running his hands all over Callie's body, his hands touching all those curves I didn't get to touch yet. I imagine how she probably lets out a flirtatious laugh, soaking in all of his compliments. Him reaching up to touch the bare skin on her neck, pulling her mouth to his…
That's when I snap. My vision goes red as I pull up in the alleyway behind the house. There is no way any of these fuckers would let me in if they saw me. We aren't exactly friends.
I sneak in the back door of the house which Evan left open for me. He knows the drill; better to be safe than sorry.
The crowds of partygoers part for me, women try to grab me, guys try to dodge me, but I’m a man on a mission. Finding my girl, and keeping her safe, is the only thing I care about.
I know she’s stubborn, so I know getting her out of here won’t be easy. I calculate all the ways I could do this in my head, but it all depends on the situation. Maybe she ditched him by now and I won't have to kill him with a house full of witnesses. These frat guys are no good. Their nightly entertainment is getting a girl interested, slipping some roofies in her drink, and then taking her to a room where all of them have a turn on her for fun. I'll be fucking damned if that happens to my sweet Callie.
I spot Callie right away. It was hard to miss her in the fucking scrap of fabric I guess is supposed to be clothing. There is no way what she's wearing is acceptable in public. Whoever sold her that shit ripped her the fuck off, or wanted her to get laid. Either way, it makes every vein in my body pop. The skin-tight fabric is black, the front low cut, letting her cleavage spill from it.
As my gaze travels down the rest of her body, I notice how the dress is so damn short. The material clings to every dip on her while leaving it covered, so I can imagine what she looks like underneath it. I'm sure if she turns around her ass would be hanging out, and let's not forget about those damn pink fuck-me heels she has on.
My cock comes to life studying every single one of her curves the fucking dress enhances. Her hair is hanging long and loose down her back curled at the ends, and from what I can make out, she put on a little more makeup on than I'm used to seeing her in.