by Celia Aaron
I stared at the back door, silently demanding that Angel make her exit. Nothing moved, and I heard the whine of a screen door—the man entering through the front. I stood and darted to the back door, quietly trying the handle. It didn’t move. Heavy footsteps thunked inside.
She was trapped. I had to do something. Even if it was stupid.
I raced around to the front and knocked. No plan of what to say or how to proceed—I just ran off impulse. The heavy footsteps grew closer and the solid wood door cracked open just a bit.
A bloodshot brown eye met mine. “What?”
“Hi.” I fumbled around for words, any words. “I’m with the um, the campaign for …”
“We don’t vote.” He slammed the door shut.
I knocked again.
“Get off my porch!” He cracked the door again, this time the bloodshot eye narrowed in suspicion.
“With the Boy Scouts. I’m trying to get a merit badge in, you know, in community outreach.” I tried to smile.
“You a Boy Scout, eh?” The suspicion increased as he gave me a once-over. “Nice to meet you, I’m the queen of England.” The door slammed again. “Now get off my property before I call the 5-0!”
Fuck! I raised my hand to knock again.
“I wouldn’t do that. He was pretty clear about you leaving him alone.” Angel’s voice wafted over to me from the side of the house.
I sagged, relief covering the jagged bits of my worry and hurried lies. Hustling down the steps, I found her leaning against the side of the man’s worn out Chevy Malibu, a pillowcase dangling from one hand and a smirk twisting her lips.
Striding to her, I stopped only inches away. “You almost got busted.”
She tilted her chin up, no fear in her eyes. “I was nowhere near getting busted. You just jumped the gun.”
“If he’d caught you in there—”
“He didn’t.”
“He could have.”
She blew out a puff of breath that smelled like cinnamon gum. “He didn’t.”
I focused on her lips, the plumpness of them. How soft were they? She didn’t recoil when I leaned closer. Our lips were only a whisper away when something crashed inside the house and the man yelled, “What the fuck?”
Her eyes widened, and she dashed away, the pillowcase slung over her shoulder as she raced through the twilight.
5
Angel
I could feel him behind me, tracking every turn I made, following me with an intensity that almost scared me. We kept going until we were several blocks away from my score on Frank Street. I should have disappeared, lost him, but I didn’t. Instead, I plopped down at one of my usual haunts—a large tree behind a row of abandoned shops, the brick walls covered in graffiti and the grass overgrown.
This place was one of my favorites, mainly because the high grass hid me from view even though the street was only about twenty feet away. I could see without being seen.
He joined me, though he kept glancing around, wary of anyone following us. While he was on high alert, I sat comfortably, my legs crossed as I focused on my ill-gotten goods.
“They won’t find us.” I dug around in the pillowcase—this one a dingy yellow with faded blue flowers. “That guy probably won’t bother calling the cops since he had a small illegal pharmacy going in there.”
“You have to stop doing this.” He finally turned to me, his blue eyes like sparks in the falling night. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You’re cute.” I patted him on the arm—the ridiculously muscled arm. “But you don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“You almost got bust—”
“No, I didn’t. I was already out of the house by the time you knocked on the door.” I can’t stop the laugh that spills from me as I recalled him on the porch, his voice unsure, his stance ready for a fight. “Boy Scouts? Really?”
He shrugged and scooted closer to me. “I had to think of something.”
“You would have been better off saying you were there to collect a debt. Then he might have believed you.” I was busting his balls, but I couldn’t deny it was sweet of him to try and help me out. It wasn’t his fault that I wasn’t the damsel in distress type. Generally, I was the one who caused the distress, not the one who needed saving from it.
“Mmhmm.” He gave a nod, as if conceding the point. “I get it. You’re tough. But I know what men are capable of. If you get caught, you’re going to get hurt.” His brow wrinkled, giving him an even older look. “And I don’t want that.”
“How old are you?” The question popped out before I could get a leash on it. But it seemed like a good start to whatever it was we were doing in the high grass.
“Sixteen. You?”
“Fifteen.” I didn’t like being younger, but there was no point lying about that little fact. Given the way he watched me all the time, I began to suspect David knew more about me than he let on.
Our arms lightly touched as I pulled a small wad of bills from the pillowcase, then reached in for more. I’d snagged some cash and a few trinkets. Nothing more than a few hundred—I had a knack for valuing stolen goods—but at least it was something. I could live on it for a while, maybe lay low.
“I like chasing you.”
“What?” I craned my head so I could give him a hard stare. “That’s not creepy or anything.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it like … I meant that it’s fun. Sort of like a game. And you are, you know, you are good at well, all the—”
I pressed my fingers to his lips, even though his bumbling explanation was cute as hell. Something in him brought out a more playful side of me, one that enjoyed the game. I pressed my lips close to his ear. “Maybe I like being chased.”
He stiffened, his posture going rigid as he sharply inhaled.
Heat slithered through my veins and I returned to my pillowcase, focusing on it instead of David. Dumping the contents between my crossed legs, I plucked a ring from my small pile. It was masculine, gold with a black stone in the center.
“Pawn it?” His voice was lower than before, gravelly. Goosebumps raced up my arm and under my tank top.
“Sure will.” I leaned over, my breast pressing against his arm as I shoved the ring into my jeans pocket. “I’ll get fifty for it from Pauly’s, or thirty-five if he passes and I have to sell it to Gold Pawn.”
Despite my ploy of focusing on my bag, all my awareness centered on David. The entire Philly PD could have surrounded us at that moment, but I could only sense him—the way he smelled—soap and sweat—the way his voice sometimes felt like fingers playing strings deep inside me, the way he watched me as if every move I made had some meaning. Was this hormones or something? Because I couldn’t explain the pull I felt toward him, the comfortable way we’d settled under this tree, the easy way we spoke to each other as if we’d been friends for ages.
Boys are assholes, I reminded myself. I’d yet to meet a good one. And just because David seemed nice didn’t mean he was. After that little pep talk, I settled back down and looked up at him, his blue eyes two separate mysteries.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re just so …” God, he was so cute when he struggled with what to say.
I batted my lashes. “Pretty, amazing, intelligent, wonderful?” His tongue darted to his lips, wetting the bottom bow. I looked. Hard. Way too hard as my heart began to misfire.
“You shouldn’t do that.” His voice seemed to have dropped even further.
“What?” I blinked as he moved closer until he was almost looming over me. It must have been some sort of primal programming in my brain, but his size sent heat straight between my thighs, and I could tell my nipples were hard and jutting toward him. “Shouldn’t do what?” I swallowed hard.
“Look at my lips like you want me to kiss you.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” My breath hitched the slightest bit.
“Because you might just get what you’re wishing fo
r.”
“Who says I’m wishing for anything?” I tried on a snide smile, but it wavered under the heat in his eyes.
I was out of my depth. This little moment of flirting had turned into a game of chicken. And what was worse, I wanted to lose. I glanced to his lips again and wanted to know what they’d feel like on mine, wanted to know if he was a good kisser.
When he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him, I yelped. But then he pressed his lips to mine, his kiss rough and demanding.
He wasn’t gentle, and the kiss wasn’t movie-perfect, but god, I’d never had better. I yelped again when he bit my bottom lip. He groaned when I opened my mouth and ran my tongue along his lips in answer. With a hard yank, he pulled me the rest of the way into his lap and sat back against the tree. His hands tangled in my hair, his mouth seeking mine and his tongue demanding entry.
I answered, tilting my head to the side and kissing him deeply. His hands slid to my hips, and I held onto him as the kiss became even more desperate and hot, our tongues sliding against each other, our teeth knocking a little—every bit of it was messy, but it couldn’t have been hotter.
I couldn’t get enough of him and didn’t want to come up for air. It was as if he was consuming me, and I was more than happy to let him. My nipples ached and my panties stuck to me as I spread my legs and straddled him. I’d never felt this way, not even when I was in my room alone at night, my fingers moving under the covers as I chased what little pleasure I could find. This was different, explosive, too much.
In a move of utter abandon, I grabbed one of his hands and leaned back, then pressed it to my breast. His lips parted and he cupped me, then ran his thumb over the hard nipple.
“Fuck.” He kept his eyes on mine as he felt me, his hand large and hot against my skin. Just the way he looked at me was like the first shot of hard liquor hitting my stomach—scorching and promising a reckless night. He pulled me back to him by the nape of my neck, our mouths meeting again as he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
I squirmed in his lap, pushing my hips toward him. When I brushed against his erection, he gripped me hard.
“Wait.” He sounded as if he were in pain.
“What?” I pulled back and searched his face. “What is it?”
“I want this.” His jaw clenched and then relaxed. “But I want too much right now. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
I could feel him vibrating like a spider on a string, his eyes wolfish, his hands possessive. I like chasing you, he’d said. I bit my lip, on the verge of telling him I didn’t want to stop, that I wanted him to do whatever he wanted with me, even if it meant throwing me down beneath this tree and fucking all the pleasure, pain, despair, and hope right out of me. But he was holding back. And I wasn’t ready.
“I have to get home.” He chewed the words.
“Right.” I took a deep breath, trying to soothe the fire that still burned me from the inside out.
“I want this.” He rested his hand at my shoulder, his thumb rubbing the skin of my throat. “Please don’t think I don’t.”
“You want too much.” I repeated his words back to him.
“You have no idea.” He took my hand and pressed it against his cock, the illicit touch more erotic than I even considered. The fire came roaring back.
“David.” Just his name was all I could manage as I felt how hard he was, how much he wanted me.
“I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want to rush this.” He pulled my palm to his mouth and kissed it.
Heat crept into my cheeks. I’d lost myself in the space of a few minutes, given in to whatever it was that pulsed between us like a separate heartbeat. “I’m not the kind of girl who … I mean, I don’t do this—” I let out an exasperated breath. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered and shook his head. “I can’t believe I stopped.”
“I’m glad you did.” I dropped one more kiss on his lips, then backed away and sat in the grass at his feet.
“And I don’t get any ideas.”
I laughed. He was such a cute bumbler.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I meant ideas about what kind of girl you are. Jeez, I’m screwing this up.”
“I get it.” I gathered up my loot and stuffed it back into the pillowcase, anything to keep myself from looking at him and wanting more. “I should probably get home too.”
“Can I walk you home?” He stood and offered me his hand.
This guy. I stared up at him and realized something that should have been apparent from the first moment I met him. This guy was dangerous. If I didn’t guard my heart, there was a good chance he’d steal it right out from under me. Put it in a pillowcase and walk away with it, never to be seen again.
“What?” he asked.
“You are nothing like I imagined.” I gave him my hand, and he pulled me to my feet.
He took the bag from me and kept his other hand locked with mine. “You’re better than I imagined.”
6
David
“That can’t be your favorite band.” I laughed as she kicked her chin up.
“It is. Deal with it.”
“They’re just a bunch of boys with high-pitched voices.”
“Doesn’t matter. They are awesome.”
“I don’t even think they play instruments or anything.” I couldn’t resist needling her. She always rose to my barbs, her quick wit leaving me a little bloodied and a lot excited.
“They don’t need them. 1D is epic just with their mouths.”
“If you say so.”
She squeezed my hand as we crossed the street toward a row of shitty condos on the edge of Tioga. We’d been chatting all the way from our spot beneath the tree, just learning little things about each other, settling into the odd familiarity we already had.
“So you’re too cool for One Direction. What’s your favorite band, then?” She bumped against my arm, her warm skin soft like the faint moonlight that filtered down around us.
“I’m kind of old school.”
“What does that even—” She stopped quickly and pulled on my hand.
Something in the way she tensed made my hackles rise, and I scanned the road. A black Mercedes sat in front of one of the dilapidated buildings, and some kids on bikes turned the corner up ahead. Nothing else stuck out or moved, but I could feel her distress, fear thickening the air between us. “What? What is it?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes focused on the Mercedes. “That car, though. Sometimes I see it. Like the guy who drives it has been following me. But I can’t be sure. I don’t know.”
The urge to pummel whoever was in the driver’s seat took over, and I was moving before I even knew it.
“David, don’t!”
I slowed as I got to the Mercedes. The back windows were tinted too dark to see, but as I edged up, I could tell the driver’s seat was empty.
“No one’s here.”
Angel caught up and grabbed my arm. “Leave it alone.”
“Where is he?” I turned and inspected the condos on both sides of the street. “Does he live here?”
“I’ve never seen the car parked here before.” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s a different car or something. I don’t know.”
I took her hand in mine, felt the cold sweat along her palm. “You’re safe.”
She took a deep breath, but her eyes were still wide with panic. “I know. It’s probably nothing.”
“A car like this doesn’t belong here.” A high-end Mercedes that looked like it had just rolled off the lot was definitely out of place. “It’s not nothing.”
She stared at one of the second-floor windows. “That’s my place.”
“You live with your dad, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He home?”
“Yep.” I couldn’t miss the bitter note in her reply, but now wasn’t the time to delve into it, not when h
er fear had me keyed up for a fight.
“I’ll walk you to your door.” There was no way I’d let anyone hurt her. Her reaction to the Mercedes was enough to tell me something bad was brewing.
She pulled her hand from my grip. “That’s not a good idea. My dad is kind of… He’s not a fan of me and especially not of guys my age.”
“And not of me, for sure.” I understood. No one would want to see a guy like me with their daughter. But that didn’t change anything. I wasn’t letting her walk into danger. “I’ll take you to your door and split before he sees me, okay?”
She hesitated and glanced at the second-floor window again.
“Hey.” I put my hand to her cheek and peered into her eyes. “I know you can take care of yourself, and you don’t want to get any shit from your dad, okay. But just do this for me so I can feel better. I want you safe.”
She pressed her cheek to my palm. “So, you’re a great kisser, hot, smart, and a gentleman? What’s a girl to do?”
“Say yes.” I pressed the tip of my nose to hers.
Her eyes closed, and I was only a breath away from kissing her again. A car drove by, its headlights sweeping us.
She shook her head a little and stepped back. “Okay. I’ll let you in the bottom door. You’ll be able to see me go into my apartment from there.”
“Good.” I gave her fingers one more squeeze, then followed her to the street door. After shaking out my hands, I closed them into fists, the sensation like coming home. If there was trouble inside, I would be ready for it.
She pulled a set of two keys from her pocket and pressed one into the rusty lock. It turned with surprising ease. I pushed the door open and stepped in first. The hallway was clear all the way to a dark doorway that I assumed led out back, and the stairway and landing were bare. The coil of tension inside me unwound a little.
Angel let out a sigh. “God, I’m being ridiculous. The Mercedes guy is probably getting it on at Loretta’s two doors over. She’s the hooker with a heart of gold on this block. I’m just being silly.”