THE DIRTY ONES

by JA Huss

  “What about Kiera?” I ask.

  The expense. It was so ludicrous to have a party like that when people all over the country were starving or homeless on Christmas Eve. Children would wake up with no presents. Hell, no tree. But that’s the thing, ya know? It’s so easy to forget about shit like that when you live in this world I was born into.

  I remember we were sitting in a small seating area just off the ballroom. Kiera was wearing something very fancy. Something so not her. I don’t remember much about it, just that it was short and sparkly. Camille was wearing a long light-blue gown with many layers in the skirts. I remember that because of what came next. Sofia was in red. Sofia is always in red.

  Camille’s little cousins—or maybe they were nieces?—came up to us while we were sitting there feeling out of place and muttering about how long we’d have to stay. They were dressed like angels and had a basket of gifts. Each gift had our name on it. Like they—Camille’s family—knew we were coming and had gone shopping for each of us.

  I realized that there were little angel cousins or nieces going around to everyone at the party with baskets of gifts. All the little boxes were from Tiffany’s.

  How ridiculous is that? Like it was some kind of fairytale party. Not real at all.

  Sofia got a bracelet. Kiera got a necklace. I got cuff links and Hayes got a small luggage case that must’ve been mistagged “male” in the gift pile, but he kept it anyway. Said he was gonna regift it to his mom.

  Camille appeared after that, face flushed with excitement and heat. I think she was dancing with Bennett because he came up with her. Then she ran across the room and turned, put a finger to her lips and said, “Shhh. Follow me,” and disappeared around a corner.

  Bennett followed immediately. The rest of us looked at each other. “Did she mean us too?” I remember Kiera asking.

  Then Hayes stood up, tugging on his lapels, said, “Yes,” and walked after Bennett.

  Kiera and I looked at each other. I was thinking I wouldn’t mind dancing with her. Wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the evening just with her.

  But she stood up and said, “Shall we?” as she held her hand out to me.

  I took it and followed her.

  We ended up in Camille’s bedroom, which was more like an apartment than a bedroom. I’m rich too. I come from the same kind of family. But my family is in politics. We don’t show off like that. Extravagant luxury and privilege was something we hid.

  Camille was slow-dancing with Bennett in the middle of the room, even though there was no music on. Her head was on his shoulder, eyes closed as they shuffled their feet around the floor like two high-school kids at a dance.

  Sofia was sitting on the edge of the bed, biting her lip. Looking at me, then Kiera.

  I knew she was interested in me. Hell, we’d already had sex a bunch of times. But it was no secret I was interested in Kiera.

  “Come sit down, Kiera,” she said. Then she patted the bed to show just where Kiera should sit.

  I glanced nervously at Hayes, who just kinda smiled and walked over to them as they sat, waiting for us, I think, and started taking off his tie.

  He was different back then. Kind of a ringleader. Which isn’t so different than he is today. But it’s altogether different at the same time. I just can’t put my finger on what’s changed.

  Once he had his jacket and tie off, he reached for Sofia’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She blushed, looking at me over her shoulder as he turned her around and unzipped her dress.

  It fell to the floor. Like a little silky red puddle at her feet. She had on white panties and no bra. The panties hugged the shape of her ass in lace, climbing up to her hips at an angle so her cheeks were just the right amount of bare.

  Kiera was looking at Hayes then. Not me. Eyes and chin upturned, like she was waiting for instructions.

  He held his hand out to her next. Stood her up, turned her around, and unzipped her dress and soon it was on the floor at her feet too.

  I glanced at Camille and caught Bennett feeling up her breasts as they kissed. There was no way he was getting her out of that gown so easily, so he didn’t even bother trying. Just lifted it up, his whole forearm lost in the layers of chiffon and silk, and started playing with her forbidden, hidden places.

  I remember thinking, What the fuck is happening?

  But then Hayes said, “What are you waiting for, Connor? Do you need an invitation? Do you want me to take your hand and undress you too?”

  And I was young. Just twenty years old. I was a boy who thought about things boys think about. My cock was hard and I wanted Kiera. Sofia too. And maybe even Camille. Because by this time she was moaning into the magic Bennett was making between her legs.

  Hayes had Sofia on her knees in front of him. I couldn’t see what she was doing from where I was standing, but I didn’t need to. He had one hand on her head and his belt was jingling.

  Kiera was watching them as Hayes absently played with her breast. Then he turned a little and I caught a glimpse of Sofia, her hands massaging his cock as she took him into her throat. Hayes was pulling down Kiera’s bra and that’s when I snapped out of the spell and went over to them, unzipping my trousers as I walked.

  Kiera’s eyes met mine and then, without any prompting on my part, she dropped to her knees beside Sofia.

  Hayes grunted out a laugh.

  It took a lot of effort to drag my eyes off what Kiera was doing to me and look at him.

  He grunted another laugh. “Not a bad way to spend senior year, right?”

  Not a bad way at all, I remember thinking. Still think it now, which is sick.

  But I knew it was sick back then too. Didn’t care.

  Minutes later we were all naked. Me, Kiera, Sofia, Hayes, Bennett, Camille—haphazardly strewn about Camille’s king-size bed, fucking, and sucking, and licking, and kissing, and…

  “You know it’s never going to work,” Hayes says.

  I snap out of the past and look at him. He’s already sitting down in the same chair he occupied earlier, one ankle propped on one knee. Same old casual attitude of the über-rich I’ve come to expect from Hayes. I join him, sitting as far away as I can get, in the chair opposite him.

  We stare at each other. “Why are you so concerned with what I do?”

  “Because she’s half mine and you know it.”

  I laugh. Almost guffaw, but catch myself in time. “No.”

  Hayes shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe we should read the next few chapters in the book while the ladies are pretending to sleep? Hmm?”

  I look at the book sitting innocently on the side table next to him. “Go ahead. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “No. I don’t suppose you do. But Kiera certainly does.”

  “Just fucking spit it out, Hayes. You’ve been hinting around all night that the two of you had a thing. And why you tried covering for her at dinner with that stupid murder tale—”

  “That happened,” Hayes says, sitting forward in his chair, suddenly serious. “Someone died that night.”

  “How did you kill him?” I laugh. “Bored him to death with your monotonous conversation? Because you certainly didn’t shoot him. The whole tale is stupid beyond recognition.”

  “Louise had a weapon.”

  “Did she? Fucking Louise. The surprise of the night, I’d say. So how is it that Louise is suddenly this all-knowing superpower when she didn’t have anything to do with us that whole year? She never went to the parties.”

  Hayes looks confused for a moment. “Parties?”

  “All those fucking parties we went to. Camille’s at Christmas. Sofia’s old-lady birthday party. Bennett’s brother’s graduation. She never went to any of them. And I invited her personally to my parents’ anniversary, so it’s not that she wasn’t invited.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The fucking parties! You know, where you slithered your way into my good thing.”


  He laughs. Loud. And I can’t help it, I laugh too. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

  “I mean… yeah. That’s what you’re doing tonight, isn’t it? Trying to make sure you’re in on whatever we have going?”

  “What do you have going, Connor?”

  “Fuck if I know. I mean, hell. Yesterday morning I woke up and Kiera Bonnaire was the last person on my mind. Now here we are. Me. Her. Sofia. You. I mean, what are you fucking thinking about?”

  “Oh,” he says, trying to hide a smile. “I’m following now. The sex.”

  “Yeah, the fucking sex. God, what are you? Two? I have to explain things in little baby words? We fucked them all. At the same time. Like… what the hell were we thinking?”

  “And now you’re wondering if we’re gonna do it again?”

  “Uh, yeah, dude. I’m wondering.”

  Hayes tries to hide a smile in his glass as he takes another sip.

  “Fucking say something!”

  “Hearing you say ‘dude’ just kinda makes me happy.”

  I laugh. “Shut up.”

  “‘We have here the future senator from New York. Mr. Arlington, what can you tell us today?’” He fakes the motion of a reporter holding out a mic for a statement. “‘Uh, yeah, dude. I got big news. Better listen up.’”

  “Don’t be an asshole. I’m fucking serious. And I don’t give a shit that you think I’m not. I am.”

  “Well, that makes all the sense.” He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can’t be with Kiera. Senators don’t marry erotica authors. And she doesn’t even hide it. She uses her real name, for fuck’s sake.”

  “So maybe I won’t be a senator? How about that? Satisfactory outcome for you, Hayes? Do I pass your sudden fake big-brother persona now?”

  “Good start. So how would Connor Arlington begin to untangle himself from those kind of expectations? Hmm?”

  I open my mouth to say something obvious like, Drop out of the race. But I’m not even officially running yet. So the next logical answer is, of course, Don’t run. But I’m not even the one coordinating this whole Senate run, my father is.

  Hayes waits, patient as I figure it all out.

  “I don’t know,” I finally admit. “But I will. I don’t even fucking want to be a senator. Sounds like a long, dismal life of bullshit if you ask me.”

  “Indeed,” Hayes says. “And that’s exactly what it will be. Don’t you see?” he says, putting his drink down and leaning forward, elbows on knees. “They’re setting you up.”

  “For what?”

  “For failure, Connor.” Before I can respond he leans back and puts up a hand. “Before you say anything else, think about this. OK? You’re gonna run that race. You’re gonna win that race. Because you’re the chosen one in this little group. You’re the one who always falls in line. I’m too unpredictable, especially after I came to my senses a few years ago. Bennett is too dumb”—I laugh—“and I’m not saying that to be mean. He’s too much like Camille. Says the first thing that pops into his head without thinking. He’s a political consultant’s worst nightmare. That leaves you. And if you look back on your life between then and now, you’ll see how it happened. There’s a roadmap, Con. And you’ve stayed in your lane as you drove down that highway. Following it to perfection.” He sits forward again, making sure I get this final point. “They’re setting you up to win and for you, that means you lose. Understand me?”

  “Whatever,” I say. Because I don’t feel like talking to him anymore. I just want to go to bed. Go in that room, climb under the covers with Kiera and forget everything that happened since Hayes showed up at Kiera’s cottage.

  We could’ve spent the whole day together. Stayed in bed, fucked a dozen times, pretended that book never happened. Pretended all of it was over.

  “You know what?” I say.

  “What?” Hayes asks.

  “I don’t even like politics. I don’t even watch the news. My father has this intern guy called Richie write me up bullet points each morning.”

  “Then why are you doing it?”

  But he knows why.

  “Are you really that spineless?”

  “Fuck you,” I say.

  “You get one life, Connor. How sad would it be if you lived it based on someone else’s plan?”

  I think about this. Have been thinking about it for a long time now. Years. But I never seem to be able to make a decision, one way or another. I just can’t commit to it either way.

  “If you can’t find a reason to tell him no yourself, then think about Kiera. Because there’s no way in hell the two of you end up together if you don’t take a stand right now. In three years you’ll be a senator, in ten years you’ll be governor, and in twenty years you’ll be running for president. Is that really how you want to live this one life?”

  “I dunno,” I say. “Doesn’t everyone kinda want to be president?”

  “No.” Hayes laughs. “Almost no one wants to be president, Con. The only reason people want a job in politics is for the power. That’s it. The paycheck is shitty, the job is shitty, and the constituents are unbearable.”

  It’s true. I can’t even argue his point.

  Why can’t I make a decision?

  “Things happened that night, Connor. Things that were written in that book.” He nods his head to the book. “And I really thought this was gonna be pretty simple. Everyone would show up here, we’d read the book, figure shit out, plan the next move. But for some reason we just all reverted back to the people we were.” He stops to look at me. Like I’m supposed to say something. When I don’t he goes on. “Why do we do that? And I’m not even trying to pretend I’m above it, either. I’m doing it too. Do you know why we do that, Connor?”

  I can’t even hold his question in my head. It just floats above me, shimmering like light, then disappears.

  “Do you?” he asks again.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Well, I do. And I was gonna explain everything tonight, but I’m not gonna do it without Bennett and Camille.”

  Do what? I want to ask. But I don’t. I just sit here and say nothing.

  Hayes sighs like he gives up.

  “I’m going to bed,” I say. “Where’re you sleeping tonight?”

  He juts his chin at Sofia’s door. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

  “Are you going to sleep with her? Or just sleep next to her?”

  “I’m gonna fuck her,” Hayes says. “That’s why she’s here.”

  I just stare at him.

  “Problem with that?” he asks.

  “Kinda,” I say, even though I don’t really care about Hayes and Sofia. It just feels wrong. Not how it’s supposed to be.

  “I thought you wanted Kiera?”

  “I do.”

  “But you don’t want to share Sofia, either.” He shrugs. “Fine with me. But if that’s how you feel then you need to go get Sofia out of that room and take her over to yours. Because she doesn’t deserve to sleep alone tonight.”

  I wonder if Kiera would mind?

  God, what is wrong with me? That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever asked myself.

  “Look, I don’t know what I’m doing, OK? I’m here because Kiera’s here.”

  “But?”

  “But seeing Sofia makes everything complicated for me. This whole day is confusing. The book, us, tonight.”

  “You don’t know what you want, Connor. So why not let me tell you, because I know more than you think. Just view this whole night… as a… you know. A thing.”

  A thing.

  Meaning… meaningless.

  “It’s not though,” I say. “I just don’t know how to make that clear.”

  “That was always your problem, Connor. Always on the fence. Never willing to commit. You’re gonna be the perfect politician.”

  “That’s funny.”

  “Why? It’s true. You’re just a figurehead
. That’s all a politician is and you fit that bill to perfection. You’re gonna let your father run your life, and call the shots, and one day you’re gonna wake up after he’s dead and realize you had one chance to turn it all around and that one chance was tonight. And you did nothing. Just… did what you normally do and went along.”

  I say nothing because he’s right, of course. I am that man. I will be that man.

  So I say… “OK. Tell me what to do.”

  And he does.

  Kiera’s room is dark, so I force myself to be still for a few seconds, allowing my eyes to adjust. When the crack of light leaking in from under the door goes from barely visible to a golden haze rising up from the floor I step forward towards the edge of the four-poster bed, unknotting my tie and pulling it through my collar as I walk.

  “Kiera?” I ask, pulling my shirt out of my pants and unbuttoning my shirt. “You awake?”

  She moans, rolling over, one of her pale breasts exposed from her top, one long leg bare as it sneaks out from under the covers. Her hair is wild, splayed out on the pillow and half covering her beautiful face.

  I want to turn the lights on. Want to see her better. See all of her. Never take my eyes off this woman. I want to make this whole nightmare go away. Give her something better. Leave behind my old life with all its expectations and just steal away with her to some far-away tropical island. Stay naked with her forever and raise babies on the beach.

  God, what the fuck is wrong with me? We’ve been back in each other’s lives for less than forty-eight hours and all I can think about is throwing everything away?

  You’re in love, Con.

  I hear the words in her voice inside my head.

  You’re in love.

  Maybe I am.

  I unbuckle my belt and unfasten my pants. Drag my zipper down, trying to be quiet.

  I don’t want to wake her. I want to ease into bed, slip my fingers between her legs, and kiss her mouth as she dreams. Make her come in her sleep.