by L. J. Woods
Everything around me disappears.
The butterflies in my stomach feel like they’re all on coke. Wild. My arms buzz. Fuck that, everything inside me is on fire and that’s just the catalyst. Before I know it, my arms wrap around his neck and we’re on each other like monkeys on trees. It makes me sigh against his lips, my body melting into his. Makes me not care when his tongue slides to my neck, when his hand moves down my waist, between my legs. His fingers press against that spot that sends shivers sparking through me. “You calm?” he grunts.
“What’re you—?” My head falls back against the wood when he moves his fingers in circles, pressing hard against the fabric of my slacks.
“Calming you down,” he groans in my ear but it’s only lighting me ablaze like the fire in the store. It feels so good it only makes me imagine what it would be like with nothing between us. I know, I know! This is so fucked up but it’s hard for me to stop him. Why don’t I want him to stop? I’ve waited for this moment forever, his lips and his touch taking me away from it all. My fam. This summer. Away from the fact that shit in Clementine just got really fucking weird.
There’s a body next to you!
My hand comes to his chest and our lips part, a cold breeze blowing between us. “We can’t—”
“Unlock the phone.” He pushes it in my face.
“But—”
“That wasn’t a suggestion or a question, Delilah.” He pushes his hip into me and that’s when I realize how fucking hard he is.
We’re both twisted, sick, fucks.
“Do it!” he demands.
“Gabe …” I’m hoping he doesn’t hear the tremble in my voice when I meet his gaze. I’m all for being a hard-ass but a girl has her limits and this is unsettling as-fuck. “You’re scaring me.” Now would be a good time to have the Gabe I know back.
“Trust me, Dee. I’m not bluffing. You’re following my rules.” A cloud moves over us, his face darkening as a hand moves to my throat. He presses his thumb against my pulse before he lets out a croaky chuckle. “Shit, you are scared. It’ll get worse if you don’t do what I say. But I’ll help you out.” Keeping me in place, he reaches into his pocket for his phone. He swipes a few times before he pushes a video in my face. My eyes widen and that makes him chuckle. “That’s right. You have every reason to be scared, Dee”
The black and white video on the screen plays. Evidence of who started that fire in plain sight. I look even more pathetic than I thought, standing in the middle of the blaze. Gabe appears on the screen, heading for me before he shoves his phone back in his slacks. “If you say anything and I mean anything about today, everyone will know just who the devil is in this town."
“You’re far from an angel, Gabe.” His grip tightens. While I’m worried this forest is a burial plot for outspoken girls, there’s excitement hot in my core. The feeling I get when I’m on my board. When I’m shooting assholes in “Call of Glory". That thrill. It scares me as much as the body behind him.
“I know,” he smirks, bringing his mouth to my ear so I hear every word. “I’m a fucking god. I can end you. You’re an adult now, right? Eighteen? How much time do you think you’ll spend in prison for arson?”
The heated moment we just shared turns frigid. “As much time as it’ll take to get your head out of your ass?” Trying to bring my arms up, he presses his chest harder into my tits and I can feel how quick his heart races. Mine matches.
With the edge of the phone, he moves some hair out of my face, a finger trailing my jaw. “Think your grandma will ever forgive you for killing her income? She won’t. Best case scenario? You’ll end up with your porn-star mom and her trailer-trash husband.”
A burn comes to my nose while I try to find any softness in his eyes, anything in his face to tell me he’s fucking with me. But I can’t find it. “Gabe, what the fuck?”
He pushes my phone in my face again. “Now, tell me the passcode and think about that before you go running your mouth about what you saw.” Staring into his eyes, I’m starting to feel more alone in this forest by the second. He stares right back. No remorse. No second-thoughts. He’s fucking serious. “Do it!”
“Fine!” Fighting the flinch from his yell, I give in. “It’s his birthday.” I do what he says, wanting to get the fuck off this tree. Out of this forest. “Elijah’s. The passcode is his birthday. You remember that, right? The same day as his fucking funeral?”
Gabe’s nostrils flare but he unlocks the phone, proving his memory is still there. After a few seconds, his eyebrow lifts. “Looks like Little Dee’s all grown up.”
Of course, he found a fucking nude. Don’t judge me, the light was perfect in the bathroom that morning. Still, my cheeks heat. “Delete the photo and give me the phone, Godfrey.”
“Don’t get pissy with me, you’re the one with your tits on blast.” Glancing at me, he laughs and that’s when I realize the guy I grew up with isn’t the same guy anymore. He’s more ruthless than I thought. He’ll tear down anyone that goes against his image. Even me. Did Sammy have something on him too? “You don’t make the rules here, Dee.” Pushing the phone at my chest, he finally loosens his pressure. He got his way, deleting any evidence of how fucked up he is right now, his pupils like saucers. “The sooner you learn that, the easier it’ll be for the both of us.” He takes a step back, a cold breeze washing over me.
“You’re really willing to stoop this low for your Tony Soprano bullshit?” I can’t fucking believe him. I can’t fucking believe this. One second we’re kissing, the next, he’s threatening me?
“It’s better for everyone if you leave,” he says, leaning against the tree as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out his slacks. Tapping one out the pack, he slips it in his mouth, foot against the trunk. “Definitely better for you.”
My nails dig into my skin from how tight my fists are. “You’re going straight to hell, Godfrey.” Turning away I get the fuck out of there, reminding myself not to look at the body on the floor.
His laugh echoes behind me. “See you there, Daniels.”
Ten
Gabriel
“I’m going where?”
My shades slump on my face, my duffel falling to the floor.
“To Grandma Daniels,” Mom confirms with a sigh, wheeling her designer suitcase to the door. “You can’t stay here alone. Not after what you did.”
They can’t be serious. My head and stomach haven’t stopped spinning since that big surprise in the forest and this isn’t helping. I’ve just stepped into the house and I’m fucking exhausted. Exhausted from cleaning up this town’s mess. Exhausted from being around Delilah. The sun’s already set and the last thing I need is another fucking surprise. I just want to nod out.
“I thought you wanted me to stay away from Delilah.” Pushing the glasses up my nose, I lean against the glass wall by the front door. I’ve only been home a week and they’re already trying to ship me away.
“We do.” Dad comes into the hall next, already dressed in another overpriced suit cut to a body he spends more time on than me. “But she’s the only person I can ask that would take you on short notice.”
“I’m an adult,” I remind them in case they forgot because it sounds like they did. “I can take care of myself. I’m nineteen, not five.”
“You don’t act like an adult,” he retorts. His favourite. “Adults don’t smash their bathroom mirrors.” Fuck. “And if you want that account back you have to regain our trust, Gabe.” Throwing a map on his leather suitcase, he stares me down with stern blue eyes. “I mean that. Now, don’t be difficult. My money, my rules.” He throws down another staple statement but I’m over this. If he only knew the shit I just went through for him. For this fucked up family.
“I’m crashing at Adam’s or Milo’s.” The three of us should’ve gotten our own place a long time ago—but I’d likely end up dead. Picking my duffel off the floor, I make my way down the shiny hall. The smell of bleach fills the air like they had a cleaner in today e
ven though they planned on an empty house. Another plan they didn’t include me in on.
“We’re not putting this burden on their shoulders.” His voice stops me right by a framed portrait of him and Dustin Weeber. With an arm around his shoulder, he shows more affection to that popstar than me. “You’re doing as we say. Being nineteen doesn’t make you a man. Acting as one does and that involves not letting your family down.”
“David, wait,” Mom stalls, pointing a long red nail at Dad. She’s sporting a fresh tan. New Louboutins. “Did we call Mariam?”
“No.” Dad and I say at the same time. I arch a brow his way but he waves me off. “You shouldn’t be staying at Mariam’s house so soon.”
“But Delilah’s fine?” I confirm. After what happened in the forest, after that kiss, after this summer? It’s far from fine.
My dad sighs. “Hammer, if you’re that stupid to get with the Daniels girl, then you need more time at the facilities than we thought.” Rehab. He means rehab. He waves a finger at my face. “What’s with the shades?”
“Hear of the sun?” Turning around, I head to my room. “I’m not going. I’m not a child.”
“An addict is a child,” my mom claps back, completely out of fucking touch. “Until we can trust you, this is how it has to be. You think we want to—?”
Slamming the door to my room doesn’t shut her up, her whiney muffled voice coming through the wood. It never does. But another line will. I reach for the lock on the door to keep her out, but it’s gone. So is my high. When I open the door, she’s in my face.
“You took the lock off my door!?” Gripping the frame, it’s hard to keep calm with a visit to Delilah looming. “What is this? A fucking prison? Fucking Alcatraz?” The irritation builds and while I know better than to curse at my parents, this surprise has me needing a fix. Bad.
“Is that where we need to send you? Because drug abusers are criminals!” My Mom’s losing her patience, her entire face glowing red. Same here.
“I’m not going.”
Going to that house will kill me.
Her heavily lined eyes look at the ceiling. “You don’t have a choice. Not if you want to stay on that team.”
I try to close the door but her hand stops it and I really don’t wanna hurt her. “Get the fuck back,” I growl. Her small body tenses like I’ve struck fear in her but she doesn’t back down. So I take a step forward, my chest puffed out. With a foot between us, she backs up on her heels until she hits the wall. “And stay the fuck out!”
“Hammer!” Dad yells. I’m holding back from going after him too. He’s approaching me, hands in fists, shoulders rigid.
He’s done it before and he’ll do it again.
“Get the fuck away from me!” Pointing in his direction, my nostrils flare as I issue my threat. So does his.
While I’m giving myself away, I’m panicking. In my dreams, living with Delilah is heaven but in reality, it’s hell. And where do they expect me to sleep? In his room?
I chuckle, “You want me to be sober but you guys insist on fucking with my life!” The punch through the wall seals my fate.
There’s no way they’re leaving me in this house now.
My body is as hard as my abs when we pull up to the old, rickety house. Slipping the pill from my sock during the car ride hardly helps to calm me.
Only parents as sick as mine would threaten to call the cops on their son for vandalism to get what they want. Sucks more when they mention I’ll never have access to my accounts because of it. If they think doing this to me will keep me on the straight and narrow, they’re as delusional as their jobs. The minute they leave I’m finding something to get me through. Xanax. Vicodin. Molly. Whatever I can get my hands on.
“Give me your house key.” My dad holds out his hand.
“You’re serious?” I ask. Gotta be fucking kidding me.
“If you want to keep your accounts and a spot on that team, you’ll do what I say.” He starts on a lecture, my mind zoning out while he tells me how much of a failure I am. A letdown. If my mom could have more kids I’m sure they’d fix this all with another spawn. Adoption? No, they rather make every minute of my life unbearable.
Dark hair flashes in the window, my dad’s voice a drowned-out murmur as my muscles tense. I don’t know what came over me today. Anger. Fear. Desperation. Whatever it was lit a match under the flame I’ve had for years.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Elijah’s words ring in my head. The only time I asked. I need to stay away from her. Not just for him but I don’t want her asking questions either. Don’t want her to ask about that night. Don’t want her asking about Sammy’s body. I don’t want to acknowledge it.
The biggest question is, how the fuck am I gonna do that when we’re in the same house?
She doesn’t scare easily but I’m a god in this town, the god of this town. No one dares go against what I say and it’s not starting with her. Doesn’t matter if that mouth still makes me want to throw caution to the wind and own her. Delilah Daniels won’t waltz back into this town and ruin my life.
Not a fucking chance.
“And don’t you think you can skip off to wherever while we’re gone.” Dad’s coming to the end of his speech, finally unbuckling his belt. “We’ll be calling Grandma Daniels on the regular.”
“Might as well send me back to rehab,” I mutter.
Climbing out the Bentley, I’m so over this shit. Sometimes I wish I died in that room with him. Then I wouldn’t have to go through these hoops for my freedom.
Kicking some leaves off the creaky steps, I take a breath before hitting my fist against the screen.
“Gabriel!” The door creaks open to Grandma Daniels in her food-stained apron. With food as good as hers it’s no wonder she’s so plump. She opens her arms and hugs me as I sniff the air. It smells like my favourite.
“Doubles?” There’s a smile pulling at my lips as I take a second to bask in the smell of garlic and cumin.
She returns it, hers wider and gummier. “Mmhm!” She pinches my cheeks and she’s the only person I’d ever let do that. “Plenty for you!” When she opens the door wider, letting me in, Delilah’s behind her, glaring at me with fiery eyes.
Her eyes narrow when I wink her way, ignoring the twist in my gut. She looks stunning even in that oversized hoodie she wears, coming down to her knees. It’s not until I see the gold stars on the pockets that I realize it’s Elijah’s.
This is already hard.
Grandma leads me into the kitchen as my parents bicker behind me. “Thank you for taking Gabriel this week while the house gets fumigated.” Mom takes a look around the small kitchen, clutching her purse. Scratched-up wood compliments old white cupboards with wobbly doors. Yellowed vintage wallpaper. It all offsets her crisp white dress. “It’s a big help.”
“Taking Gabe?” Delilah pipes up, her jaw looking like it’ll fall off any second. My mom looks over her shoulder and down at her. They’re about the same height, reaching my chest but without any heels, Delilah seems smaller. “Like, he’s staying here? In this house? For a week?” Her eyes move to mine, bracing the stove that looks to be from the fifties if not older.
Smiling, I push through the pain, lifting a chin. “‘Sup roomie.”
She shakes her head. “No.” I’m not happy about this either but I’m having way too much fun watching her stress the fuck out.
“I don’t mind.” Grandma gestures to the living room. “But have some food before you go.”
“No!” Delilah and I say in unison, our eyes locking.
“That would be nice!” My mom exclaims, eyeing us both before she moves into the small dining room off the kitchen. “I hate airplane food.”
Dad’s close behind, mumbling into his phone before parents take their spots in the dining room around an ancient wooden table. Stained plaid fabric decorates the wobbly, creaky chairs. It matches the yellowing cloth laid under antique plates.
Grandma
and Delilah make preparations in the kitchen and that’s much better than spending any more time around my folks. “Need some help, Grandma?”
When I take a couple of steps their way, Delilah turns around, backing herself against the sink. “We’re fine,” she says, glancing at her grandma carrying a plate of food to the dining room. “But you won’t be if you stay here.”
As I get closer, the smell of sweet chocolate enters my nose. A cloth dangles from her hand before I snatch it with a smirk. She doesn’t move, her lips way too close to mine to not feel that pull in my abs. That jerk in my groin. “Threatening me?” Turning the tap on, I move beside her. Speaking low, I lean over, catching her ear. “I’m here, Dee. Deal with it.”
“We gonna talk about that shit in the forest?”
And there it is. “Nope.”
Her mouth flattens into a line before she scoffs, pushing off the counter and I sure as hell take a peek of that ass. Her bare legs peek out from that hoodie and I can’t stop my mind from wondering what’s underneath. Way better than thinking about what I did with Sammy’s body.
“So, Delilah.” My mom’s voice rings from behind me and I really wish they’d just be on their merry fucking way. “How’s your mom?”
Shit …
Looking over my shoulder while I wipe a bowl clean, I don’t miss the way Delilah’s knuckles whiten as she grips the jug of water. She slams it on the table. “Fine.”
“Is she still working?” My mom presses as Delilah turns back for the kitchen.
“Mhm.” She’s trying to be civil, keeping her responses short. If my parents had souls, they’ll realize she’s avoiding the topic. “Sure is.”
“Has she been looking for a real job?” Mom asks, confirming she has no soul at all.
A breath leaves Delilah’s lips, her back to my mom. “Are you?”
Ooh, shit.
Going back to the kitchen, Delilah’s Grandma hums a tune, leaving Delilah to the sharks. Mom sits back in her chair, arching a brow. “What are you implying?