by S. Ferguson
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby,” he says to her.
She nods giving him a playful look. I have trouble enjoying my cake as people keep wishing me happy birthday this, congratulations that. I don’t know how many drinks I wash down with Declan and Bree. My head is spinning when I hear Greg speak up.
“Time for presents!” His words are barely recognizable in my drunken state as he picks up a box wrapped in pink paper, covered with a bow.
“Happy birthday, squirt,” he says handing it to me. Nervously I turn it over in my hands trying to hone my double vision to find the best place to start unwrapping it. Everyone laughs a bit as I take hold of the bow pulling on it gently. Under the paper is the small box longer than it is wide. Carefully, I open the lid and gasp as I look down at a new butterfly knife. Gently I remove it, feeling its weight in my hand as I begin to open it.
“Ron picked it out,” Greg says as he wraps an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “And Jake picked out the inscription.” Jake smacks Greg lightly who only laughs. Not noticing the inscription at first, I look closely at the blade making out the letters.
“Kid, don’t die.” I shake my head, a huge smile on my face, Jake found the perfect way to poke at me for life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Thank you, guys.” I feel a tear slide down my cheek. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” The tears begin to fall. “You could have gotten me a gun though,” I joke, bringing the knife against my hand.
“A knife better suits you,” Ron replied. “Although you need to be more careful with it.”
I look at him quizzically as he gingerly takes the knife and closes it.
“I am careful,” I slur back, swaying back and forth.
“Then why did you just flay your hand open on a sharp blade?” He raises his eyebrow at me lifting my hand toward my face. Red blood seeped from a cut in the center of my hand. I blink, barely even registering that I hadn’t closed the knife before holding it in my hand a few seconds ago.
“Oops,” I say before erupting into a fit of giggles. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
“Because you’re fuckin’ wasted.” Ron sighs, scooping me up into his arms. “I think that is enough booze for you.” He looks at Greg, Declan, and Bree. “For all of you,” he finishes, the others all look away sheepishly. I rest my head on Ron’s shoulder as he carries me off to his office.
I sit in one of the overstuffed leather chairs wobbly as Ron kneels before me rifling through a first aid kit. I watch him closely with rapt attention as he removes a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad. He wets the pad with rubbing alcohol before sweeping it over my wound. I hiss trying to pull away as my hand ignites with a stinging fire.
“There’s a price for being stupid.” He chuckles, holding my hand still.
“Wasn’t stupid.” I pout.
“Everyone gets some kind of stupid when they’re drunk,” he replies, casually working on my hand. “You just tend to get especially stupid.” He shakes his head, digging around in the kit for some gauze.
“Do not,” I fire back.
“Yes, you do.” He looks at me, his ice blue gaze causing my heart to flutter.
“Not only do you get stupid, you also fuckin’ talk a lot.” Gently he holds the start of the gauze, holding it lightly with his thumb as he begins to wrap it around my hand.
“Do not,” I repeat myself, rocking slowly in the chair as the world begins to spin. Ron only sighs.
“Only people who tell the truth are kids and drunks,” he whispers under his breath. He looks up at me again, his voice firmer this time.
“I don’t blabber,” I mumble.
He returns to his task of wrapping my hand, using a piece of medical tape to hold the gauze down.
“It’s not like I’m telling you I love you or anything,” I mumble, gasping immediately afterward, slapping my free hand over my mouth. I did not just say that, I know I didn’t. Ron freezes, his body going still.
“What did you say?” he asks calmly, looking up at me. Looking through me.
“Nothing,” I say through my hand, shaking my head. I want to just crawl into a hole and die. Never in my wildest dreams was I expecting to tell him that tonight.
“Didn’t sound like nothing,” he replies rising from the floor. “Sounded like you said you love me.” He smirks at me as he sets his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of me. I shake my head, not liking that I feel caged in.
“No,” I reply. “I can’t love you.”
“Oh?” His smirk only grows as he leans in closer, his breath warm against my face causing me to lean into him. “And why is that?”
“Because you love someone else,” I whisper. “I’m just the side piece. I can’t love you, no matter how badly I want to.” My eyes flutter closed.
“Who said you were a side piece?” His voice makes me open my eyes. “Who the fuck said I am in love with someone else?”
“I saw you with Lexi,” I say, leaning back with a pout.
“Lexi?” He looks at me skeptically.
“Yes, Lexi.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how many times she has been coming to your office? Not only that, but she stays in here forever every time she comes. It’s obvious you two are fucking.” I take a deep breath feeling myself getting upset.
“And you are just the side piece?” he asks again.
“Of course!” I shout. “I see the way you look at me after sex. Like a wounded animal after cheating on your girlfriend! It’s not fair!”
Ron’s shoulders begin to shake as laughter builds in his chest.
“What!?” I say hotly. “What’s so funny?”
“The fact you think I’m with that cunt Lexi.” He begins to laugh harder, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Then why is she constantly coming over?” I growl. “What were you guys doing in your office?”
“She was getting shots too. Before that, she was my spy on Elizabeth.” His laughter begins to ease as he wipes a tear from his eye. At least I could fucking entertain him during the most humiliating night of my existence. “It wore her out the same way it did you. She was simply resting in my office while I was doing work until she felt well enough to go home.”
“So, you aren’t with Lexi?” I test the words on my tongue. “You don’t love her?”
“Not a chance,” he replies, looking at me, mirth still in his eyes, but I see something else there. Something I don’t have the courage to name.
“But,” I stutter, “the expressions, the looks, you pushing me away,” I muster out.
“Is me worrying about your safety,” he replies. “Under my watch, you have been shot, kidnapped, beaten and almost raped.” He counted each item off on his fingers. “And if we are together, it would only make you a bigger target. It’s one of the reasons I am sending you to Ze’s. So that you can better defend yourself if a situation comes up again.”
“So you do want to be with me!” I blurt out. “You love me too …” my voice trails off.
His gaze softens as he looks at me.
“That’s what I thought you said,” he whispers, pulling me up from the chair wrapping his arms around me and locking his lips passionately with mine. My head swims and I see stars as I kiss him back, pouring out every emotion, every hope and fear into that kiss. It feels like something that will never end, but we eventually must stop for air. He breaks the kiss gently, resting his forehead against mine, panting lightly.
“I haven’t said this in a long time. And I don’t know if I’ve ever really meant it before,” he whispers. “But … I love you, Kella.”
37
Ron
I carry a sleeping Kella in my arms up to her room. Carefully opening the door, I enter and lay her down on the bed. Almost immediately, she groans rolling over onto her side, her back to the wall. I begin propping up pillows and extra blankets behind her back to prop her up and keep her on her side. She had a l
ot of alcohol to drink, and the last thing I need is to have her puke and choke in her sleep.
I smile down at her, watching her snore softly. She said she loved me, I think to myself, incredulous that she could feel that way about someone like me. It was hard for me to admit even to myself that I love her too.
She was drunk, I shake my head, yes, but drunk people are honest people, the devil’s advocate in my mind says. I’m too dangerous for her to be with. I shake my head again feeling like I am going crazy because I’m fuckin’ arguing with myself about a drunken encounter with Kella. Quietly, I sneak out of Kella’s room, closing the door softly behind me, making as little sound as possible.
She loves me, I think again with a smile on my face. Maybe I can make this work.
“Excuse me,” I hear a small voice say, raising my head, I see a young girl standing in the hallway. Her dark hair cascading down her back, her ebony skin in stark contrast to the bland white walls of the hallway.
“Are you Ron?” she asks, her dark eyes darting around nervously.
“I am …” I reply, immediately tensing. I’ve gone enough rounds with scared girls in the last year. I don’t know if I have another one in me. She’s clearly terrified and I don’t think it’s of me.
“I’m Kiera,” the girl whispers, wringing her hands. “You helped my father with something … umm … financially … a while ago.”
I look at her with a blank face, with all the shit going on, I don’t remember a damn thing right now.
“I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t know …”
“His name is Barry Dawes,” she says, frantically pulling a picture out of her coat pocket and handing it to me. “You helped him with a gambling loan.” I look at the picture she hands me. I see Kiera standing next to a portly man, her arms wrapped around his neck. Memories begin to flash in my mind, a few months ago I can remember helping him. He claimed that he would be good for the money. I usually didn’t give someone that much money just to fucking gamble away but everything we dug up on him, showed he was a man of means.
“Yes,” I reply, looking at her. “Your father never paid me, he knows the price for that. You’re sweet, but I can’t do anything to help him. Business is business.”
“I … I know. That’s why I’m here,” she says, looking down at her feet. “My father makes plenty of money, he’s been trying to save, but something always happens.”
The “because he gambles it away” hangs in the air between us.
“Why don’t you come to my office,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We can talk in my office instead of out here.” I gesture before me, showing the way to go.
She turns sheepishly, allowing me to go first, following a few paces behind me. Everyone stares at us as we enter the bar, observing the girl hot on my heels. I give them a stare that challenges them to take any action and they return to what they were doing.
“This way,” I say, putting my hand on her back leading her to my office door beside the bar. “Now,” I begin, closing the door. “Let’s start this again.” I take a seat behind my desk folding my hands behind my head. “You said your name is Kiera?” She simply nods as she sits in the oversized chair that is much too big for her.
“Yes.” She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “I’m here about my father’s debt.”
I pull up my records on my computer. “Right here, Richard Dawes. Yes, he owes me quite a bit of money and has not paid a fuckin’ cent.” Kiera nods again, looking down at her hands somberly.
She begins, “I was thinking that … maybe we could work something out?” She looks up at me from under her eyelashes. I can see the fear in her eyes. I also see her determination.
“We might be able to arrange something,” I reply, looking at my computer again with a pause. I look back at Kiera as I hear her stand, her clothes beginning to shuffle. I see her begin to undo her pants, lowering them to the floor. “Not that, Kiera,” I say, raising my hand. “Pull your pants back up for fuck’s sake. I’m not that kind of man.”
Relief shines in Kiera’s eyes upon the realization that what she came here to do would not occur.
“But the debt …” she trails off worriedly. “We don’t have the money.” Her lower lip begins to quiver.
“I said we could work something out,” I reply “Do you clean?” I ask her.
“I can clean,” she responds “I was a bartender for a while.”
“A bartender,” I muse. “We could always use a bartender and someone to help clean around here.”
“If I do … will you let him live?” she asks hopefully.
“Yes,” I reply. “But it’s going to take time. I would say at least a year. It wasn’t pocket change your old man borrowed.”
Kiera sighs with relief, nodding her understanding.
“Are we agreed then?” I ask, holding my hand out.
“Yes,” she replies putting her hand in mine.
38
Kella
I wake up groggy and sore, a huge pounding in my skull. I groaned trying to sit up, doing it a bit faster than I should. Immediately, I regret it as the nausea takes over forcing me to run to the bathroom. I pant, leaning my head on the toilet seat when I’m finished. I stand slowly with a moan, grabbing my head in pain. I stare into the mirror at my bedhead and red eyes. I look like shit. I give my teeth a quick brush before walking out into the room. I rummage through my bag grabbing a pair of sunglasses and a cap to put on my head to hide my hair. A knock on my door causes me to jump and grab my head as the agony spikes again.
“Coming, coming,” I groan, making my way toward the door grabbing the knob.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Ron says, filling out the doorway as he looks down at me. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit,” I reply, stepping back so he can enter. “How long was I out?”
“All night,” he replies nonchalantly. “You were pretty wasted and needed the sleep.” He bends down to give me a peck on the forehead.
“What’s up with you?” I ask, looking him up and down. “Did you hit your head or something?”
“Do you remember anything from last night?” he asks with a smile. I try to push away the raging headache to bring the memories of last night into my mind. It takes a few minutes before the events of the evening begin to swarm back, drinking with Greg and Declan, eating cake, telling Ron I love him.
“Wait …” I say in shock stepping back my hands raised. “I did not say what I think I did.”
“You did.” Ron looks at me, his eyes filled with light. “You sure fuckin’ did.”
“But what about Lexi?” I ask.
“We discussed this last night,” he replies stalking toward me. “I feel nothing for Lexi.”
I back away, my hands outstretched, unsure of what to do. The last thing I need is him making fun of me because I made a mistake. I stumble as my legs hit the edge of my bed and I fall back onto it. I scoot back on the bed as Ron approaches, getting ever closer.
“Oh, Kella.” He shakes his head as he leans over me. “If you only knew.”
I look up at him curiously before noticing the large bulge in his pants.
“Are you ever not hard?” I ask.
“Not when I’m around you,” he says, crawling onto the bed leaning over me. I feel a wetness pooling between my legs.
“Seems I’m not the only one.” Ron laughs seeing my face.
“You aren’t possibly thinking about sex right now,” I reply, wanting to escape, knowing I won’t. The need is beginning to fill me. I need him.
“You tell me.” I gasp as he rubs himself against me. He chuckles in response, leaning in toward me, his lips inches from mine.
“Admit it,” he whispers. “You want it too.” His lips brush mine and my nipples peak from his kiss.
“And if I do?” I say breathlessly. Damn did this man have a way with my hormones.
“Then I’m going to fuck you,” he says into my ear,
sending chills down my spine, straight to my core. Without thinking, I turn my head to kiss him as my hands fly to his pants struggling to undo them.
He smiles into the kiss, moving his hands down to mine, making quick work of the button and zipper.
I whimper as he breaks the kiss, sitting up, he growls as he grabs my pants, ripping them off me, raising my ass off the bed. He looks at me hungrily as he throws my leggings and panties off the bed, making a dive head first into my core.
I gasp as his tongue begins to wander, licking, tasting, claiming. My legs quiver as he nips and sucks my clit rubbing it with his nose. My breath quickens as I feel him press two fingers against my inner lips teasingly. I whimper again begging for him to put them in. He only chuckles, blowing gently on my clit sending shivers down my legs.
“What do you say?” he asks, looking up at me with a smile as I move my hips trying to get him inside me.
“Please, oh please.” My head hits the pillow as I beg him for more. I squeak and my hips lift off the bed as he plunges his fingers inside of me. I rock my hips in time to his thrusts, groaning as his mouth is once again on my clit.
“Oh God, don’t stop.” My hands run through his hair, pulling him in closer, begging for more attention.
I hear him laugh against my clit, the vibrations filling me with pleasure. He picks up his thrusts, pounding me faster and faster, my back arches off the bed, my feet on the floor lifting me. My breath quickens as I feel the familiar creeping of my orgasm.
“I’m going to come!” I cry out, as Ron’s fingers only begin to move faster, grazing his teeth on my clit. No longer able to contain it, I scream my orgasm, my body collapsing on the bed shuddering. I hear a familiar rustling and the crinkle of a condom wrapper. I part my legs expectantly for him, breathless and waiting. My legs twitch as I feel his member rubbing against my opening, rising to stroke my clit.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, leaning over me, teasing me.