I took a step toward her in challenge. “Doesn’t bother me. Haven’t you heard? I’ve already been dead.”
She laughed and if you didn’t know she was Satan anyone else would take it as a genuine laugh like I’d just told a funny joke. “That’s right, I forgot to ask you,” she made a show of clearing her throat. “Hey loser, do anything fucking stupid lately? You know, like getting captured and tortured? I mean, for the record I’m glad you’re back from the dead by the way, if anything just so I can make fun of you for being stupid enough to get killed in the first place.”
I scoffed. “Oh yeah? You think getting killed is stupid? I’m not the one who throws a fucking temper tantrum and all of a sudden a city block falls to the streets.”
Rage rolled her eyes. “OMG it was like two buildings at the most,” she paused. “That time.” She smiled in a sly way that tells me that she’s still proud of the work she’s done.
“As pleasant as ever, Rage,” I said, stepping back and taking a swig of my beer, searching the suddenly empty lawn for anyone to talk to other than Genghis Rage.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed to see you amongst the living again,” she said, buffing her French manicured nails on her hot pink t-shirt that read NO FUCKS GIVEN.
I looked at her right in her cold dead blue eyes. “Funny, I’m deliriously happy I’m alive but standing here right now, looking at you, it’s the first time I’m kind of fucking wishing I was still dead too. You know, but not as dead as your soul.”
She smiled wickedly. “I’ve always loved your compliments, Samuel,” she sang whimsically, batting her lashes for a beat before returning the disapproving frown to her face.
“Almost as much as I love thinking about how they’re going to cast your episode of “Making of a Serial Killer.”
“If you want to be dead again just say the fucking word and it can be arranged,” she spat, squaring her feet.
“You wanna go, bitch?” I said, jumping back on my heels and raising my fists like a boxer. “‘Cause we can go right now.”
“With pleasure,” Rage said. She was about to set her beer down in the grass when a voice interrupted us.
“That’s enough, kids,” said a tall biker who put his arm around Rage. I waited for her to push him off and jump back into wanting to fight-me mode but her entire demeanor softened at his touch and surprisingly she didn’t even flinch.
“Oooooh. I see that Bomber Barbie has found herself a Ken?” I asked looking from Rage to the biker.
“Watch it,” the guy warned, protectively standing in front of Rage who stood on her tiptoes and scowled over his shoulder before stepping out in front of him.
“It’s good to see that Rage isn’t dead inside like we’d thought for so long. Hi, I’m Preppy,” I said extending my hand.
“Nolan,” the man offered with a shake and a small smile that told me he was trying his hardest not to laugh. Another biker in a matching cut walked up and handed Nolan a beer, he put his arms over his shoulder and they huddled together, whispering what my guess would be stupid biker bitch shit.
“Speaking of people whose souls you murder, where’s Smoke?” I asked. Smoke was her mentor and a fuck of a tracker. I was only asking because I’d already heard that he’d left town for good and it was in some way her fault although I didn’t know all the details.
She shrugged and the angry V lines in her forehead straightened out. “Got no clue these days,” she said, putting her hands in her back pockets and rocking back on her heels.
“Hopefully far a-fucking-way,” Nolan said through his gnashed teeth, chiming in over his shoulder.
“Nolan,” she warned, taking a much softer tone I’d ever heard her use before but Nolan was already back to his conversation with the other biker.
“O.M.G. You’re dick whipped!” I whispered, pointing to Nolan. “Aren’t you? Wow, this is fucking amazing. Tell me, was it his cock or the fact that he doesn’t murder babies in their sleep that made you go from Ted Bundy to Teddy Bear? Tell me, are you planning on doing that whole Black Widow thing where you get close to them before slitting their throats in their sleep one by one? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, that’s a pretty cool fucking plan.”
“I’m not a character in a comic book, asshole. And I don’t kill babies,” she snarled. “And I don’t kill anyone in their sleep. That’s just…rude.”
I shrugged and took another sip of my beer. “Whatever you tell yourself so you can sleep at night. Or wait, DO YOU sleep now or are you still hanging from the ceiling like a fucking bat?”
Rage glared at me without answering but the glare said it all. If looks could kill. Well, they didn’t need to because SHE could kill.
I reached in my pocket for my smokes and lit one. Rage made a show of waving the smoke out of her face although it was nowhere near her. “You do sleep? Wow, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Tell me, what are the other main differences between the raging bitch you were and the raging bitch you’ve become?” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned in like I couldn’t wait to hear her answer.
“Fuck off, Preppy.”
“Oh come on, Rage. You can do better than that. I mean it’s just so nice to see that you’ve settled down and with a BIKER no less. I really had no idea that you were home knitting scarves and planning babies. I apologize for everything I’ve said, Rage,” I offered, raising my hands in mock surrender. She flipped me off. “It’s totally cool that you’re barefoot in the kitchen. Feminism is for the birds and all that. Oh shit, does this mean you’re gonna be the soccer mom?”
“What about you?” she asked, looking around the yard. “You all alone here or you got some little tramp eager to be fucked then gutted like a fish waiting for you around back?”
“Ha, one can only hope,” I muttered. “But alas, I am alone. VERY alone.”
“I know all too well what you mean,” she said, looking up to Nolan who was still deep in conversation.
“Did we just agree on something?” I asked with a shake of my head and a tinge of disgust in my voice. “Listen, the universe is already fucked up. We don’t need this kind of karma in our lives.”
“No, we did not agree on anything,” she argued. “I was just saying how fucking boring your life is and then I wanted to add how shitty you look after a few months of mild torture.” She leaned in and whispered. “I bet you screamed like a bitch.” She pulled back and took a sip of her beer.
A part of me. A part deep DEEP down part of me liked that Rage had no filter and said whatever was on her mind. It was refreshing in a way because everyone else seemed to be walking on fucking eggshells around me and in a way Rage was right. It was getting really fucking boring.
“Is that what Nolan does?” I asked with a wink. “Does he make you scream like a bitch or do you just pull out your cock and compare whose is bigger?”
I could hear her audibly growl and then sigh heavily. “Well, Preppy, it’s been real. Until we’re forced together in the same social situation again, which hopefully isn’t any fucking time soon,” she said clinking the neck of her beer to mine with a fake smile plastered on her face that dropped before she even turned back around. She stomped passed Nolan, catching his attention, his head spinning in her direction while she muttered, “Pussy, can’t take torture like a fucking man.”
I responded with a muttering of my own, “Aeropostale Assassin.”
“You know,” I said to Nolan whose buddy had just walked off toward the house. “Sometimes I think the reason she’s so hot is because of that flaming poker shoved up her ass.”
Surprisingly, Nolan chuckled instead of punching me in the face as he watched Rage stalk off, his focus primarily on her swaying ass. “Hot. Yeah, she most definitely is,” he said, biting his bottom lip and rocking his weight from one leg to the other. “I ummmm… I gotta go...” his words trailed off as he chased after Rage who I’m sure was on her way toward whatever circle of hell she usually crawled into to seek solace from h
er bruised ego.
I took a deep drag of my cigarette. In a way Rage and I hating each other was the most normal thing I’d experienced since I’d been back and for a brief moment I felt a little better. Slightly lighter. Like all wasn’t right with the world, far fucking from it, but maybe, just MAYBE it could be.
Someday.
I felt so good I almost believed my own lie and to me that was progress.
It also might have been the blow.
Blow or progress, either way I was starting to feel pretty fucking good.
That is until I tipped my beer up to my mouth and caught a glimpse of a feminine figure through the green glass of the bottle. A figure, although distorted and blurred, the orange glow of the burning torches glowing on both sides of her, I would recognize anywhere. I kept the bottle to my lips a full thirty seconds after I’d drained it, thinking that what I was seeing was a figment of my imagination as it had cruelly been so many times before. Slowly, I lowered the bottle and I was able to see her clearly for the first time in a long time.
My breath hitched in my throat. She was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
Dark hair, short tight skirt, and bright red fuckable lips.
My wife was home.
“Attention everyone,” King said, standing on wooden bench butted up against the brick edge surrounding the bonfire pit. The flames rose at least five feet above his head. He reached down and pulled Ray up to stand with him on the bench. Even in the dark I could see her face turning bright red with embarrassment as she hid her face in her hands, peering out through the spaces between her fingers before covering back up again. King pulled her hand from her face and took it in his own. He held up a bottle of whiskey to the partygoers who had all gathered around to hear what he had to say. Public speaking wasn’t exactly King’s thing. SPEAKING wasn’t exactly his thing, but as he looked down at Ray and spoke to the crowd there were none of the mutters or grunts that I remembered King using to communicate. In fact, the motherfucker was downright articulate, albeit I detected a tad bit drunk as well.
“We have a lot to celebrate tonight,” he started, his eyes scanning the crowd until they met mine. “The first thing being that my best fucking friend in the world has come back from the fucking dead!” He took a swig from his bottle and raised it in the air, pointing it toward me and I did the same.
The crowd clapped and screamed, their voices swirling around me like a tornado of noise, pushing me back and forth. I wobbled on my feet, trying to stay upright. I was about to fall over when King raised his hands and got the crowd to die down, oblivious of the state I was in. I opened and closed my mouth, moving my jaw around in an attempt to get my ears to pop but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. I was a prisoner to the noise that assaulted me like toxic arrows shot into my fucking eardrums. “The second thing we have to celebrate is now that I have my best men here with me. My family. It feels right now. So Ray and I are getting married in two weeks right here and you all better be coming to our fucking wedding!”
The crowd erupted even louder than before and I felt like a cannon had exploded next to my ear. King picked up Ray who wrapped her legs around his waist as he kissed her for all to see, claiming her with his mouth. Someone whistled from behind me, the sound piercing through my skull. My vision shifted from blurry to clear then back again. I swayed on my feet. When the attention was off of me I stumbled through the crowd toward the house, tripping over people who probably thought I was just drunk as I barreled through them like a blind bull charging.
The world was spinning. I covered my one ear with one hand and felt for the wall of the house with the other. A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and my fight instincts kicked in. I shook them off and jumped back, raising my fist in the air. It was then my eyes chose to focus again, but the pressure behind them was unbearable. I looked to the ground to tiny feminine bare feet with red toe-nail polish. I traveled up bare calves to the black skirt that stopped right below her knees and I nodded, trying to let her know she could guide me. She got the message and again touched my shoulders. I flinched but realized as her hand slid down my arm and she guided me to the front of the house. Away from the crowd. Away from the noise. Away from the nightmare that both of those things brought me time and time again.
“I was lost,” I said, breathlessly, not exactly sure what I was trying to say, although Dre seemed to understand. She gripped my arm tighter.
“You were, but I found you.”
DRE
“Just give me a minute,” Preppy said, breathing heavily. He leaned back against the thick trunk of a huge banyan tree on the far corner of the front yard. The furthest away we could get from whatever it was that had caused Preppy to breakdown in the middle of the party. He was rubbing his eyes and temples, wincing and baring his teeth.
“Are you in pain?” I asked. “Where?” I looked him over and couldn’t see anything obvious. No tears in his hoodie or jeans, no bloodstains of any kind. In fact, besides how he was responding to whatever it was causing him such distress, he looked good. REALLY good.
He’d filled out since I’d seen him last. His cheeks weren’t nearly as hollow as before. His face was no longer clean-shaven and was a few days past being able to call it ‘stubble.’ Where the hair on his head was always a few shades lighter than his face, as it grew in they looked to be a perfect match, both being a lighter shade of brown. His hazel eyes weren’t as glazed over but they still look unfocused.
“I’m fine!” Preppy said, blinking rapidly several times. He looked up at me.
He was anything but fine.
Just when I thought he was calming down he grabbed the sides of his head and dropped to his knees in the grass. “Aaaagggrrrrrr,” he yelled as if something inside was clawing its way out.
I knelt down beside him, unsure of how to help him especially since I didn’t know what it was that was hurting him so badly.
Distraction, I thought. So I did the only thing I could think of. I got right in Preppy’s face, I grabbed his shoulders… and I pressed my mouth to his. At first his entire body jumped like I’d stung him but at least he’d stopped screaming. I didn’t do a damn thing. I went perfectly still and waited as I felt his entire body relax, his lips soften against mine. A tingling bolt of desire hummed in my clit as I pressed my chest against his.
He pulled back just far enough to speak. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, his cool breath against my lips as he panted against me. His pupils were wide and dark, barely any of his beautiful hazel eyes were visible. Wherever he’d gone, he’d come back.
“Distraction?” I asked, sounding breathless.
“Huh?” he asked, making no move to push me away.
“Distraction,” I said, suddenly second guessing myself and thinking that maybe I’d done the wrong thing after all. “When I was little and I broke my arm falling out of a tree I was climbing, my dad, he distracted me when the doctor was putting the cast on. He jumped around the ER making these loud monkey noises.” I laughed at the memory. “I thought he was insane until I realized the cast was on and I hadn’t felt a thing.”
“So that kiss was meant to be a distraction?” Preppy asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. He leaned in closer and my nipples pebbled in awareness. My panties were damp as he grabbed my arms and ran his hands down to my hips and around to my ass.
I nodded.
“Well then Doc,” he said, running the backs of his knuckles down my cheek and jaw. I leaned into his touch. “I think we can do better than that.”
I was about to ask him what he meant when his lips met mine. It was nothing like the first kiss which was practical and tightlipped. It was soft and hard all at the same time. He molded his mouth to me, his tongue connecting with mine in a way that made me feel a vibration between my thighs, like his tongue was licking right at the entrance of my pussy. I moaned into his mouth as he gripped the back of my head and held me in place as he assaulted me with his mouth, and I opened for him.
>
I heard something in the distance. My name being called? But I was too far gone to care, too lost in the high that was Samuel Clearwater to care who needed me or why.
Because I needed that kiss that moment and I was going to take it while I could.
“Dre!” Brandon shouted. Preppy pulled back and we both looked into the yard where Brandon was frantically searching for me.
“Who the fuck is that?” Preppy asked, holding me against him tighter.
“Brandon.” No sooner had I said it that Brandon spotted us and started jogging our way.
“Brandon?” Preppy asked, we were both breathing hard, my nipples rubbing against his chest and the fabric of my tank top as we breathed in the same air. “Who the fuck is Brandon?” he asked. That’s when he looked down between us, his eyes grew furious. His arms stiffening. I glanced down to see what he could be looking at and that’s when I saw Mirna’s ring on my finger, the diamond glistening against the reflection of the moon.
Preppy growled and let me go abruptly, sidestepping me, and without him to hold onto and my thighs shaking with weakness I fell against the tree. He met Brandon halfway between the yard and the tree but before I realized what his intentions were his fist was flying and Brandon was flailing on the ground, clutching his bloody nose.
“Preppy!” I called out, but he’d already disappeared into the crowd. I ran to Brandon and started helping him up. “Come on, let’s go get you some ice.”
“Fuck,” Brandon moaned, standing with a wobble and holding onto my shoulder. “Was that who I think it was?” he asked.
“Yeah, it was.”
“Well I think your boyfriend just broke my fucking nose,” Brandon said sounding like he was speaking through a drive-through window at a fast food restaurant.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I argued as I led him over to the coolers for some ice. I reached in and grabbed a few cubes, wrapping them in a napkin and pressing it to his face. He hissed. “Actually, I think he saw my grandmother’s ring and thought you gave it to me.”
Preppy, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater: A King Series Trilogy Page 31