by Colt, Shyla
He’s wearing a pair of jeans that ride low on his hips and nothing else. His chest is slender, but well built. Bullet wounds mar his golden skin, but it only adds to his rugged appearance. He looks up. “You’re wondering about these?” He rubs the scars.
“I’m sorry.” I drop my gaze.
“No, it’s okay. I’d be curious, too. Back when Cora was still pregnant with her son, R.J., the club got raided by a rival gang. Four men lost their lives. Me and Reaper almost joined them. I got off lucky. He was in a coma for over six months afterward.”
I shudder. The life he lives is dangerous. Like I can talk. “You’re strong. You survived.”
His lips curve upward. “I could say the same thing about you.”
I lift my hands to respond and lower them. He’s right, but I don’t feel the pride he does. He continued on with his life… I didn’t.
“You don’t think I’m right?”
I shrug.
“No, you don’t get to pry into my life and clam up about yours.” He takes a seat in the chair across from me. “It’s not like either of us has anything better to do.”
I take a deep breath then let it out. “I wasted so many years and I never saw it until now. Or, maybe until Cora. She showed me I could still have a life. That it was okay to.”
“Wasted? I’m not sure about that. Did you need the time to get your head right?”
“Yeah, I did,” I admit.
“Then it can’t be wasted.”
“You say that, but you picked yourself up—”
“Don’t make me into a saint, Vita. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”
“What does that mean?”
Creases form on his forehead and his countenance darkens. “If you knew who I really was and what I’d done, you’d know I’m not a man to admire.”
His self-pity angers me. I snap my fingers.
He looks up.
“I’m the reason my brother is a widow.”
“I’m the reason my entire family died.”
My jaw drops. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” His face turns red and he stands up to walk away.
I follow and grab his shoulder.
He spins around to watch my hands.
“You can’t say that and walk away. I asked Mia, Ira’s wife, to help me get ready for prom. If I hadn’t…she’d still be alive.” Saline blurs my vision. I blink. I will not cry.
“My wife had my family murdered and tried to murder me. I picked her, brought her into my home, and remained blind until the day I ended up in the hospital, damn near dying from cyanide poisoning. You want to talk about guilt? Let’s start there and continue with the fact that I let her alienate me from them. So, I hadn’t even seen them for damn near a year beforehand. You think I’m strong or noble?” He laughs. “I’m a pox, a curse. I’m not sure I didn’t bring my bad luck to Wesson, considering what happened after I pledged.”
I can’t wrap my head around the horrific story he just told me.
“I’m shocked you don’t remember seeing it in the news. Jewel Rowe, on trial for the solicitation of murder and attempted murder in the first degree. The pretty petite, deaf woman who looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly.” His voice is bitter and self-depreciating.
It pains me to hear this tone. God, no wonder he hated me. I must remind him of her.
“She chewed me up, spit me out, and broke me down. You think I’m strong? No. I spent years living out of a bottle, mooching off all of the money I inherited from my dead family.” His eyes are unfocused.
I bend down to catch his gaze. “You couldn’t have known that.”
“I should have. What the hell could she have wanted from me? I was stupid and needy. Finding Wesson was a fluke. They frequented the bar I pretty much lived in. We became friendly and I decided to clean myself up enough to function and become a prospect. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t know where the hell I’d be. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, except for maybe because you’re stuck with me for God knows how long. I fool everyone, your brother included. He asked me to look out for you.”
“You do. You have been,” I protest. I went from hating him— to adoring him. “You’re one of the few people I trust with my life. I can’t stand to see you talk about yourself like this.”
Suddenly, he turns the tables. “But it’s okay for you? You had no way of knowing what would happen and they wiped out everyone. At least Mia wasn’t alone when it all happened.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“How about we make a deal? I won’t bash myself, if you don’t bash yourself.”
“Deal.” We’re staring into each other’s eyes and my heart’s racing a mile a minute. There’s a change in the air. Heat envelopes me that has nothing to do with the weather. My breathing becomes shallow.
“You’re a little bit magical, like Emily was. I’ve never talked about this to anyone. Not since the day I walked out of the courtroom and left my old life behind.” He reaches out and trails his knuckles down the side of my face.
My stomach flips.
“I think maybe I needed it.” He takes a step closer. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away. “Maybe you needed it, too.”
The loneliness I’ve experienced over the years presses down on me. I look to him, wanting something I can’t ask for.
Wrapping his arms around me he pulls me to him.
I close my eyes and inhale his scent, soaking up the acceptance and closeness he’s offering.
I want this. No— I need this.
We stay like that for a time and he pulls away. “You okay?”
I nod.
“Are we okay?”
I lick my lips. My emotions are a briar patch, prickly and tangled. I nod again.
What else is there to do?
“Good.” He releases me.
I instantly mourn the loss. He’s the food for that starved part of me, and now I’m ravenous for more. My cheeks heat.
“How about we take a dip in the river?”
“I don’t have a bathing suit,” I say automatically.
“I’m sure we could find something,” he insists.
I think of the workout clothes I saw. It’s a pair of shorts and a sports bra, but they’re both black and cover everything necessary. “I have something.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”
We depart and I flee, grateful for the time to recover alone. He’s doing odd things to me.
It’s the close quarters. You haven’t spent this much time with anyone in years, not even Ira.
I take my time changing. A few minutes of deep breathing and talking to myself and I’m ready to go. I meet him in the opposite room and bite my lip. He’s even more delicious in a pair of black board shorts. I feel like I’ve re-entered puberty again, cause my hormones are off the charts.
Prophet takes his time taking in my outfit.
Maybe I’m not the only one?
I quickly brush the thought away. He’s doing what my brother asked him to do: taking care of me. We had a similar experience that few can understand. Sharing it has bonded us. I’d be a fool to read more into it. While I’m not a virgin, I have no experience in the way of adult relationships.
The last one I’d been in was my first. I sigh as I think of Matthew Andretti. Tall, dark-haired, brown eyes, and toned from football, he’d been a teen girl’s dream come true. Though, our experimentation in the bedroom left much to be desired. The memory douses the flames of desire that had begun to form. I cling to it as we leave the cabin and make our way down to the river with our towels. I set mine down on the grass and rush into the river, counting on the icy shock to reboot my system and clear my mind. I sink in over my head and surface with a few strong kicks. I break the surface and float on my back watching the sky.
The clouds are wispy but plentiful. I hunt out the recognizable shapes and think back to the lazy days of summer I used to hav
e in my youth. I never imagined how complicated life could be then. It was all about the next crush, grades to get into a good school and fashion. I could never get back what I lost, but I could do myself a favor and move forward.
Prophet was wrong when he said he wasn’t a good example. He was the best one. Unlike me, he’d been the sole survivor. He’d pulled himself up by his bootstraps and found a whole new life he found fulfilling. He hadn’t come right out and said he was rich, but he must be loaded. Enough to tempt a woman to plan the genocide of his family. I turn my head and seek him out.
He’s doing laps up and down the river.
Probably trying to tire himself out.
It’s easy to get cabin fever on days like this one. The days begin to blur together, and when it’s really hot, being outdoors is taken off the list of things to do. Though, we’ve played some pretty heated games of Monopoly. I smirk. It’s amazing how interesting a game becomes once you get sleep deprivation and alcohol involved. The days are blurring together at this point. We’ve been off the grid for a good two weeks. I imagine they’ll be coming to re-up our supplies soon. Water splashes my face. I splutter and sink beneath the surface then I come up and attack.
Prophet playfully pushes back with waves of water.
I sweep my arm over the surface. Happiness bubbles up in my chest. I embrace it and lose myself to the moment.
Prophet/Charles
I thought the water would cool me, but I was dead wrong. The sight of her slender frame, firm breasts, and tight ass, acts like fuel to the fire. We’re in a small cabin, sharing our darkest secrets and I’m catching a case of like with a girl who I call friend. It’s a rarity for me. I don’t let people close often, and women have been seen as potential enemies up until now. We leave the river, pruney, but cool. I can’t help but wish I was one of those droplets of water traveling between the valleys of her breasts and disappearing inside of the top. I lick my lips and avert my eyes.
So much for cooling off in the water.
My gaze is glued to her ass as we walk back to the cabin. Her hips have a gentle sway I find hypnotic.
I can’t be that hard up for sex.
Vita isn’t the type of woman you have a few nights of fun with. She’s an all strings attached, ring and serious commitment type. She practically has the song, “Keep your hands to yourself” tattooed on her forehead.
Not to mention what her brother would do to me.
I run my hand down my face. This is how people go crazy in the woods. You get too much time on your hands and the mind begins to wander down streets it shouldn’t be venturing on.
We reach the top of the hill and she stops so fast, I run into her.
“What’s going on?” I look over her head and see a group of riders on motorcycles parked in front of the house. “Ahhh, groceries have arrived. We probably didn’t hear them over the river.” I step forward and she remains in place. “Hey, don’t be afraid, they’re Wesson.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
She moves forward with me and we walk onto the porch.
Marbles lets out a low whistle. “So, that’s what was hidden under those prissy clothes.”
At his words, Vita fidgets.
I narrow my eyes. “Sorry, Pres, but I know for a fact she’s not interested.” I pull her to my side.
His eyes widen. “Well shit, why didn’t you tell me she was yours?” Marbles asks.
“Wasn’t enough time.” I place a kiss on her forehead.
She stiffens momentarily and then relaxes into me, putting on a show. She gets the way things work.
“We brought you some more food and news from the outside. Dallas is keeping things locked down, paranoid bastard that he is.”
I chuckle. “Sounds about right.”
“I can’t blame him when his old lady is about to pop,” Marbles says. “I imagine it makes a man feel hella protective.”
“Understatement,” I reply dryly.
Vita tugs on my shorts.
I can see the query in her eyes. It’s amazing how much you can convey without words. Especially, when you’re used to paying attention to context clues and expressions. “She wants to know if he said how Cora is doing.”
“Good as far as I could tell. Still waiting on the main event with baby number two. Man, if y’all aren’t careful it’s going to be a kidfest around there.”
“Always good to grow ’em instead of prospect them in I guess,” I say.
He snickers. “Shit, better him than me, brother.” Marbles shakes his head.
I watch as the prospects bring in the food. “You got any special requests for next time?”
I peer down at her.
“Clothes?”
“Clothes,” I relay to Marbles.
“Some of the girls who look about your size gathered some things. We brought it in a saddlebag.”
“She says thank you.”
Marbles gives me a look. I can tell he wants to talk business.
“Babe, why don’t you go hang out in your room and listen to some music?”
She walks inside without hesitation.
Good girl. She plays the game well. Funny, how the things that used to make me uneasy about her, now makes me like her more.
My chest swells with pride.
“She seems like a good girl,” Marbles says.
“She is.”
“I’m trusting you on this, since you’re vouching for her. We don’t want her trouble coming to our door.”
“It’d be Houdini’s fault, not hers.”
“Quick to defend her.”
I bite my cheek and shrug.
He likes getting a rise out of people. It amuses him. I’ve seen him do it a million times before. “If she wasn’t worth a little defense, I wouldn’t be claiming her.”
He nods. “You doing all right up here?”
“Bored as hell, but otherwise…yeah. We’re keeping ourselves occupied.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are. She’s a tight little number.”
“I know you’re ranked higher than me, but you keep talking about my girl like that and I might take offense.”
Marbles throws back his head and laughs. “I like you, Prophet. You always speak your mind. You have a hell a way of nicely telling people to go to hell.”
I grin, glad I dodged a bullet. I wanted to impress upon him how serious I am about Vita. Some people like to share and before her, I’ve never been too partial when it comes to where the woman I’m with lays their head. She’s different and I want to see her treated with the respect she’s due. I shoot the shit with Marbles for a while longer and he takes his leave, bringing his lackeys behind him. I remember being the low man on the totem pole. You do everything they say with a smile, hoping they’ll notice you and put in a good word to the president. It’s a screwed up fraternity pledge week that’s extended until they say you’re done, one way or another.
I walk down the hallway and pause outside Vita’s room.
Her music is on full blast and the door is cracked. She’s dancing around in a short black dress that hits her mid-thigh. Her damp hair has dried curly and falls around her head.
For a second, my heart races. Her beauty steals my breath. I want to walk in, take her in my arms, and taste her lips.
Mayday! Mayday!
When I step back the floorboard creaks.
She spins around. Her cheeks turn pink. Her hands begin to fly. “I heard from Ira. He’s improving and Lorenzo’s people are running scared. Some have folded and others have left this world. Unfortunately, Lorenzo remains at large.”
“That is something worth celebrating,” I say.
“How about I start a fire tonight and we do the s’mores thing? I saw them unpack graham crackers and the makings.”
“That would be awesome.”
Her eyes dance with joy.
My insides melt like a Popsicle on a hot day. This woman is changing me. She’s a jumps
tart to a long dead soul. Fear strikes. “I’ll meet you out there.”
I all but run to my room to change.
How long can I keep this to myself?
Even now, I’m thinking about all the things I want to show her and how she would look in the middle of an orgasm.
I bet she tastes sweet. Shit. The last time I was this interested in a woman, she destroyed my life.
Vita has that same potential. She’s caught up in a family war that might blow up in both our faces. I don’t need to complicate that.
Back outside, I places strips of newspaper in the fire pit and assemble a structure of wood around it. The sun has sunk into the horizon and the sky is a deep purple fading into navy. The stars have begun to make their appearance along with the moon. Out here, time seems to slow down. Worries seem distant and happiness is a lot easier to find and hang onto.
I need to remember when this is all over that things will be different. Which is why you should enjoy now.
I have an angel and a devil at war inside of me. Only time will tell which will be victorious.
I light the fire and blow through my hands to keep the embers going. The paper catches and slowly moves its way onto the wood. I watch the flames grow, and once I’m pleased with the strength of the fire I cover the pit with a screen.
The back door opens and Vita steps out with a smile, a bag of marshmallows, chocolate bars, and two metal sticks.
“Someone’s excited.”
She shrugs.
The bashful expression makes me smile. She’s sweet. “Have you ever done this before?”
She sets the bag on a table. “Not since Girl Scouts.”
I snicker. “You would be an ex scout. You had a real, all-American life, didn’t you?”
“Pot meet kettle?”
Her sassy smirk makes me laugh. “Touché. The fire should be ready to roast on in a few more minutes. You get the stuff ready and I’ll make us a few adult beverages. I saw some mason jars. Rum and cola work for you?”