He would either respect my honesty or delete my number, either way, I wasn’t going to lie. He knew how old I was.
Liam: I’ll pick you up.
My fingers shook as I typed.
Me: Where? Pioneer Lake?
He didn’t take long to respond.
Liam: Yeah, I’ll meet you out front at three.
I couldn’t breathe.
Me: Okay.
I stared at the screen for about five minutes, not really seeing, just feeling each delicious beat of my heart. I didn’t think he’d respond and, if anything, I needed to process, but as I placed my phone on the side table and shut off my light, I only had one certainty to cling to… I definitely wasn’t going to sleep tonight.
The summer heat evaporated from the asphalt, and the sheer waves beat against her bare shins as she walked home from Pete’s Grocery Store. The girl’s arms were full, and the stiff brown paper bag crinkled as she adjusted the uneven weight. Her flip flops smacked—smacked—smacked, and her heart beat in time with each step. She was late, and her father would be home by now, two or three glasses deep into his whiskey, she assumed. The girl was lucky, her mother was working at the store today, an easy excuse for her lack of punctuality.
It was when she was late her father got the most angry. He was never really on time himself though. Always out late at the bar, or stuck in traffic, supposedly looking for work. She wondered, as she stubbed her toe on a piece of gravel, if he’d ever really applied for all the jobs he said he had. When she was eight she was more naïve, but now she was twelve, and the world had taught her about truths and lies. Her lips dipped into a frown as the realization hit her. Her mother worked and her father played. He took advantage of his “condition” that he self-treated with bourbon and fists. She’d heard her mother on the phone talking to Aunt Grace about his mental health and how he was unemployable. The small blossom of anger she’d nourished over the years spread its petals far within her marrow.
It didn’t matter that he took out his anger on her… on her mother… it was the lie. The self-righteous rules that he applied. He didn’t deserve her obedience. Just as the thought burned her resolve to a boil, she tripped. The bag of groceries tumbled to the ground and her knees tore against the street. The sting radiated through her body, but the tears never came. She quickly picked up the apples that had escaped from the bag, ignoring the slight trickle of blood that snaked down her leg. She grabbed the green peppers and the box of macaroni and cheese. She shoved it all in the bag along with the ache inside her bones, because she knew… this pain… was only the beginning.
Once Upon a Time
“Kelly! Wait up!” Preston, the boy I’d met in class, hollered over the slamming tin of the lockers and the loud chatter in the hallway. He shimmied past two very large looking seniors and gave me a white washed beam of a smile. He huffed out of breath as he said, “You forgot your copy of the required reading list on your desk.”
I exhaled and gave him a small, grateful smile as I took the paper from his hand and scanned down the long list. Macbeth, A Farewell to Arms, Like Water for Chocolate were at the top of a very long list. The school didn’t supply these books, only the text books, and as I read each title, I totaled the time I’d have to work extra to afford to buy them.
“Thanks.” I held up the list and adjusted the strap of my backpack with my free hand.
Preston’s light eyes shimmered as they meandered down a little lower than was normally considered polite. He seemed nice enough earlier in class, offering advice on what teachers were hard asses and who demanded excellence. He’d told me never to be late to Mr. Burdock’s chemistry class or he’d fail you on the spot for the day’s lab. He’d watched me for most of the period, and, at one point, he’d dropped his pencil and it clattered to the floor when I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail. I’d worn a soft green, V-neck t-shirt and dark blue jeans, nothing too flashy I’d thought, but I’d shrunk in my seat regardless, uncomfortable in the attention my appearance always seemed to bring me. It wasn’t that I was vain, but I was used to it. Boys in my other school liked me, too, and I’d messed around with a few, but I didn’t have time to date, and it would be an embarrassment to bring them to my house anyway. My father was good at two things: drinking and being a strict asshole. I was sure any guy who came over would never come back again.
“You take the bus, right?” he asked, finally finding the energy to pull his eyes away from my body and lifted his gaze to mine.
“No, my friend usually takes me home.” I folded the reading list and put it inside the pocket of my jeans.
His lips spread into a grin. “Usually?”
The hallway traffic thinned. The students disappeared through the front and back doors, in a hurry to get home, to get on with their lives; meanwhile, my stomach was a bundle of fireworks ready to ignite. Liam might already be outside, and here I was waiting for Kathy and stuck talking to Mr. Perv who couldn’t keep his eyes off my boobs.
“Mm-hm,” I mumbled as I turned my head and looked down the hall anxious for Kathleen.
He opened his mouth to say something just as a mass of copper curls came around the corner. She was chatting with two guys, go figure, who were dressed just as uppity as Preston. Pastel plaid shorts and pale Polos to match.
“Hey,” she said with a knowing smile. The guys assessed me as she continued, “This is Ethan and Bridger. Boys, this is my bestie, Kelly.”
“You girls coming to the football game this Friday,” Ethan, the Ken doll, spoke with a confidence that set me on edge.
What was she thinking? These guys looked at us like we were open for business. The new girls from the other side of the tracks. They probably thought we were easy, and the low-cut blouse Kathy was wearing didn’t help.
Kathy shook her head. “No, we actually work that night, but if you come by the store I’ll sneak you a few beers.”
I rolled my eyes and started walking to the front doors. She was knee deep in hormones, and I had plans to keep. The small group followed behind me, making their plans for Friday when Preston sidled up next to me.
“I’m not into that shit.”
Sure he wasn’t.
“No? What are you into then?” I asked and didn’t keep the sarcasm at bay.
Out of the corner of my eye I watched him fidget with the straps of his pack. He swallowed and said, “Honestly, I like football. But drinking and partying, it’s not my deal. I play to win, and it’s my ticket to my choice of school.”
Of course he played football.
The afternoon sun soaked into the skin of my arms as the front doors opened into an early August sauna. I nervously scanned the front parking lot, but realized I had no idea what I was looking for. What kind of car did Liam have? Would he get out and wait for me? He was nowhere in sight as we descended the stairs to the sidewalk. Kathy and the other two guys were talking about the benefits of owning a flask when Preston gently grasped my upper arm.
“I’m serious, I think it could be fun,” he said with an expectant smile.
I had no clue what he was talking about anymore. My head hadn’t been in the conversation since we’d walked out of the doors of Pioneer Lake High.
I turned and gave Kathy a pleading look, and she said, “I think we could figure something out.”
I nodded and widened my eyes at Kathy as Preston’s expression turned triumphant. Kathy leaned in as his attention turned toward Ethan and Bridger and whispered, “You just agreed to go swimming with these fine gentlemen on Saturday.”
“What?” The word was a punched and hard syllable.
“Causey Reservoir. Come on, it’ll be fun, and when the quarterback of the football team asks you to do something, you do it, Kelly. I will not be a social pariah at this school.” Preston was the quarterback? Day one and already Kathy had us playing with the cool kids. I’d find a way out of it, because the only thing I wanted was to be wrapped inside a bubble that smelled like leather and wood smoke.
Preston laughe
d at something Ethan had said and ran his hand through his sandy brown hair as he turned toward me again. He was handsome, built, but his groomed appearance screamed pampered, rich-boy. There was something too soft in the round shape of his eyes. He pulled out his phone. “Can I get your number?”
My mouth went dry, and I glared at Kathy as she giggled. I didn’t want to give Preston my number. He wasn’t my type, if I really even had a type, and as my panic began to surface, a loud engine roared, echoing throughout the school grounds. Liam revved his engine as he came to a stop in the parking stall a few feet away. He stared at our small group, his dark brown eyes narrowed, and his lips set in a grim line. He wore no helmet, his black t-shirt fit snug against his sculpted chest, and suddenly, Preston and his friends seemed like preschoolers in comparison. A nervous laugh erupted past my lips, and Preston looked at Liam and then back at me with a furrowed brow.
The group fell silent as I took a step toward the mean looking motorcycle. Kathy was the first to break the silence. “See you in the morning, Kelly.” When I turned to face her, she was beaming ear to ear.
“See you tomorrow. Nice to meet you guys. Preston.” I waved and gathered all the strength I could, pushing it down into my legs so I had the nerve to walk the short distance to where he was parked… waiting for me.
Liam’s dark eyes trapped me as I moved toward the rumbling mass of black metal and chrome. He flicked his gaze over my shoulder and nodded his chin as he throttled the engine.
He maneuvered the kickstand with his worn leather boot and stood as the bike leaned onto the metal support. He dismounted the bike with ease, never freeing me from the grip of his stare. Liam unhooked a shiny black helmet from the back of the motorcycle and attempted to hand it to me. No hello, not even a smile. His eyes darted back to the front of the school, and I wondered for a split second if he was jealous. It was stupid to think a man could be envious of boys, but when those coffee eyes found mine, the amber burst I’d seen at the shop the other night was gone and the sheen of his irises almost matched the paint of the bike. Onyx. My heart was beating, pulsing too fast as I removed the elastic from my hair. My high ponytail fell in long waves down my back and Liam’s lips twitched at the corners.
I held out my hand for the helmet and he shook his head. He leaned in, his minted breath tickling my cheek as he spoke just loud enough I could hear him over the running engine, “It’s going to get tangled. We have a long drive.”
When he leaned back his smile was sideways and my heart sputtered, pumping out rapid disjointed beats. My stomach plummeted into a free fall as he playfully pulled at a piece of my hair with his finger and thumb. He handed me the helmet after I’d quickly fixed my hair into a loose side braid. I placed it on my head and he fiddled and snapped the chin strap tightly against my skin.
Once he was satisfied it wouldn’t budge, he asked, “What time do you have to be home?”
“Six, I can’t be late. I have to make dinner.” I didn’t allow the thought of being late, or the repercussions of it, dim the excitement coursing through me. I wouldn’t think about how Liam could possibly be rethinking this entire endeavor. I was a kid with a curfew.
“Six.” He nodded and then straddled his bike offering me his hand.
I chanced a glance over my shoulder, and just as I thought, Kathy and the guys were watching me… us. Some unknown source of pride washed over me and I slid my hand into Liam’s. He had shown up, on a dangerous chariot, offered me an escape, if only for an afternoon, and I was more than happy to take it, to have him. I situated myself on the back of the bike, enjoying the way my body would inevitably depend on his for the ride, and the heat of the muffler soaked through my jeans. Wishing I had boots instead of tennis shoes, I positioned my legs a little higher, my long legs, my thighs, pressed against his, avoiding the burn of the muffler. I tightened the straps of my backpack, and when Liam pushed up the kickstand, he opened the throttle. A warm freedom poured through my veins. Instinct had my arms wrapping around his solid frame, clinging to his waist, and holding on for dear life. My chest pushed against his back as he backed out of the parking stall.
My heart soared as the wind whipped around our bodies, and my grip on Liam’s hips made him laugh. His shoulders shook as he accelerated onto the open road. It wasn’t long before he’d driven us to the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon and it swallowed us whole as we rounded sharp curves at a speed I was sure was lethal. I buried my nose into Liam’s back and my palms began to sweat. Death loomed with each sway of the bike and dread flooded every breath. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and I inhaled once and then again. His earthy scent chased away the fear, and when I lifted my head again, the sun peeked through the trees as the smell of pine enveloped me. We could have been driving for hours. Time had ducked her head in the sand giving us privacy to disobey her, take what we wanted, and enjoy the moment.
The bike finally slowed and, as we pulled off into a picnic area, the prospect of being all alone with him had my hands trembling. We passed the parking spots and Liam drove us onto a narrow dirt road I didn’t really think was meant for anything but four wheelers. The forest seemed to part its branches for us as we moved slowly forward. Finally, the road opened into a very small clearing that was surrounded by Aspens, and the bike came to a smooth stop. Liam cut the engine and the silence surrounded us. Small sounds broke through the quiet as I celebrated the solitude. Birds chirped and the leaves of the trees rubbed against each other in the slight breeze. It was beautiful and secluded, but my brain couldn’t truly take in the details. It was too busy wondering why he’d brought me here. What did he expect?
My bottom lip pulled through my teeth as he hopped off the bike. Liam didn’t look back at me as he tilted his head toward the sky. His posture was the most at ease I’d seen it in the short time I’d spent with him. I unclipped the strap of my helmet and set it in front of me. He stood before me, a painted statue in torn jeans and biker boots. I lingered on the motorcycle, not sure what to do, and released my hair from the elastic. My nervous fingers pulled through the plaits and when Liam lowered his head, turning his attention to me, all of my insecurity twisted inside the chambers of my heart like rotted roots. His features had become incredibly soft, warm, and his eyes, they were wide as his smile split my chest in two. The way he looked at me, his defenses had slipped, and he allowed me a glimpse at the hope that had brightened his irises to an amber flame. He rattled the lost hope in my own bones, and as his eyes consumed me, promising fire, it made me wish I was ugly, plain—invisible. I was ruin, packaged in a gilded box with silken ribbons, and I feared his disappointment more than I feared the burn of his touch.
Cigarette smoke curled through the air and coated the vinyl seat of the car. The young man coughed and wished his father would roll down the window more than just a half inch. His thirteen-year-old brother was in the backseat, lost in the haze of tobacco, so he took a chance and cracked his window. His father hadn’t noticed, and the young man smiled as he watched the fog of fumes trickle past the glass and into the hot summer afternoon.
Once the front cabin of the car became breathable, the boy turned and checked on his brother. He cringed as he watched him whisper to himself again. The young man’s eyes shifted back to his father who was still busy concentrating on the road. He was old enough to know that his dad’s steadfast obedience had more to do with the three beers he’d had with lunch and less to do with following traffic laws.
The young man slid his gaze back to his little brother, Dex, and watched his lips move as his eyes clouded over. Fear stiffened his spine. It had only been a week since he’d had to cut him down. One week since his little brother had tried to quiet the voices in his head permanently by hanging himself in his bedroom closet. Dex’s mouth stopped moving and his eyes flooded with color. The young man gave his little brother a smile, and he’d responded back with a nod of the chin.
Guilt rang its bony fingers around the young man’s neck, choking him more tha
n the earlier cloud of Marlboro Reds as he turned back in his seat. He used to tease his brother about his voices, tell him he was crazy… nuts. He hadn’t believed Dex. Not even when his brother had woken him up several nights a week crying about terrifying nightmares. But now, he wondered how he’d ever missed it? Wondered how he never noticed the light fade from his little brother’s eyes?
The young man’s fingers balled into tight fists as he caught his reflection in the side view mirror of the car. The eyes that mocked him were his own, but they’d also belonged to his father, gifted to him by birth. He chanced a glance at the driver and then again at the boy in the back seat. It was then he promised himself he’d make amends. He’d never, ever, let Dex down again. He knew, despite his appearance, that he was not his father. They’d all been born into shit, and, as he inhaled the stale cab air, he swore that one day, he’d pull them all out.
Once Upon a Time
Right and wrong, the concepts were too cloudy when it came to her. I should’ve never texted her to fucking begin with, but regardless of her age, she was almost eighteen anyway, there was no way I would’ve been able to hide from the temptation of her invitation. I almost did the right thing but, growing up like I had, life never threw you a bone, hell, it never even threw you the scraps. It twisted and turned you inside out until you couldn’t even remember the goddamn definition of hope. Her nose buried in my back, in my neck the whole ride up here, her thighs pressed against me, her fingers curled in my shirt, it’d felt right… it’d felt… good. They had a special place in hell for a guy like me. And right now, I didn’t give a shit. The way her long legs straddled my bike had me wishing they were wrapped around my body instead.
Everything about Kelly was too good. Her smell, her eyes, her sexy as hell lips. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, that I could tell, and I was standing here like an idiot staring at her. It was crazy how naturally beautiful she was, and the longer my eyes lingered on her, the more her confidence faded with her posture. Kelly’s eyes were wide open and her fear was showing. She sat on my bike, pinned by my stare, looking at me like I could destroy her, and without a doubt I knew that I could. She wound a long strand of her shiny hair around her shaky fingers, and I questioned whether or not she missed the mask of make-up she’d worn the other night as her brown eyes dropped to the forest floor.
Kingdom (Avenues Ink Series Book 2) Page 6