Different Roads

by Lori L. Clark

  She stopped, backed up, and let out a soft whistle, “Damn girl, if he keeps it in his pants longer than five minutes after he gets here, I’ll be shocked.”

  I turned and smiled broadly at her, “You think so?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  Chapter 28

  Damon walked in later with a smirk on his face, a six-pack in one hand, and a bottle of tequila in the other. I grinned and shook my head. Come to find out having a normal evening at home with Damon was possible; it just wasn’t a lot of fun.

  I should mention that normal with Damon equals boring. When he’s not talking about what he’d like to do to me between the sheets or bragging about how good he is in bed, there’s not much left for us to talk about. We have a few things in common; we just weren’t able to carry on a conversation about any of them.

  “Where’s Cowbell Shelley tonight?” Damon asked, not taking his eyes off the movie we were watching.

  “She went with Tim to some kegger,” I told him.

  “I was supposed to go to a kegger tonight, too,” he said.

  “Oh,” I responded. We should have both gone to the kegger. Me with Shelley and Tim, and you with whomever. “You could have gone.” He nodded but didn’t add anymore to the longest conversation we’d had since his arrival.

  After two hours of awkward stretches of silence looming between us, he clicked off the TV and twisted to face me on the sofa, “So. This was… different,” he said. He paused before adding, “Did I win yet?”

  I tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear and stared down at my hands, “Let’s call it even? You didn’t win. I didn’t win. We’ll just agree that it can be done?”

  “Fuuuuck,” he laughed and blew out an exaggerated sigh. “That was the longest two hours of my life.”

  “I know, right?” I smiled and offered him my hand to shake on it.

  “You know what Jaq? You’re a lot more fun to hang out with when there’s sex, or booze, or both involved,” he grinned.

  “Me? You can’t even carry on a normal conversation when you’re sober and not trying to get me horizontal,” I said with a scowl.

  He shrugged and yanked me into his lap, his eyes flashed dangerously dark and he said, “Let’s do what we do best then.”

  And we did. He spent the night. Probably because I thought it would be rude to tell him to go home afterwards, even if I wanted him to. Since I had no excuse or reason to ask him to leave, he stayed.

  Bright and early Saturday morning, I nudged him with my knee, “Hey you up?”

  He growled when he spoke, “Again? Jesus Jaq, are you some kind of nympho?” He rolled onto his back and leered at me, pointing to a very obvious hard-on making a tent of the blankets.

  My mouth dropped open, “What? Wait. That’s not what I meant you asshole!” But I didn’t protest too much when he pulled me on top of him.

  After he left, I showered and decided to bake some soft pretzels while I waited for Shelley and Tim to get home. I was sitting at the table drinking a Diet Dew when they came in. Shelley glanced at me and then peered around the room as though she expected Damon to still be lurking about.

  “You alone?” she asked.

  My forehead creased into a frown, “Yes?”

  “You’ll never guess who we saw at the party last night,” she said. Tim walked in behind her and shot her a shut up glare. Her mouth formed into an O and she sighed. “Never mind.”

  “What the hell? You can’t leave me hanging like this,” I shouted after her as she darted out of the kitchen toward her bedroom. I gave Tim a questioning look and he shrugged before telling me he had shit to do and made a beeline for the door.

  With Tim gone and Shelley sequestered in the bathroom for a marathon length shower, I rolled and cut the pretzels while my mind spun a hundred miles per hour about who they’d seen at the party. I figured it had to be Seth. I knew that when she decided to fill me in on who he was with, it would be like taking a hard right hook to the gut.

  Finally she came into the kitchen, rubbing her hair with a towel. She smiled sheepishly when she noticed me staring at her and said, “I probably shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

  “Yeah but you did, so now you have to tell me the rest of the story,” I said quietly.

  She plopped down on one of the chairs and peered at me out from under her wet bangs, “We saw Seth and he was with one of his psycho ex-girlfriends,” she admitted.

  I got up and opened the oven to check on the pretzels before responding, “I heard he was seeing one of them again.” I was surprisingly calm. Guess it was because Damon had mentioned it to me before, and it wasn’t a complete shock to me.

  “Well he’s a moron for that,” Shelley sighed. “Besides, Damon’s hotter.”

  I leaned against the counter and shook my head, “Damon’s hot. I don’t think he’s hotter than Seth, but he is hot.”

  “Well at least you’re having sex again, that has to help take your mind off things,” Shelley offered with her skewed logic. “I bet he knows how to make a girl come six ways to Sunday.”

  “Pfft,” I snorted. “He’s not bad. But the thing is… with Damon? That’s all there is, mind-blowing sex. If I had to depend on him for intelligent conversation? I’d be so fucked.”

  Shelley gave a one-armed shrug, “There are worse fates, you know.”

  She was right, but at the moment, I couldn’t figure out what those worse fates might be, “I suppose.” I pulled the golden brown pretzels from the oven and sat them on top of the stove. “It would be nice to get the whole package for once, ya know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean a guy who’s good in bed,” I held up my hand and folded my index finger to indicate one quality, and continued counting them off as I went along. “Can carry on a semi-intelligent conversation, easy on the eyes, faithful, honest. You know, those things.”

  Shelley giggled, “Good luck with that. Let’s not forget rich, gainfully employed, nice car, good with his hands.” She wriggled her eyebrows at me to emphasize ‘good with his hands.’

  “Now you sound like a dating site ad,” I laughed.

  “There is always that option,” she said.

  “Sure. That’ll happen,” I shot her a narrow-eyed glare, “About the same time you join the convent.”

  Though I downplayed how much it hurt knowing Seth had moved on with his life, it was killing me inside. I still loved him and nothing I did seemed to ease the emptiness he’d left inside of me. Sex with Damon was a temporary fix at best. Even though Seth had been gone from my life for awhile now, I still couldn’t get over the twinge of pain I felt every time I woke up next to Damon and wished it was Seth.

  Chapter 29

  The more time I spent with Damon, the more apparent our differences became. I admit, he fulfilled a certain hole inside of me. Not just sexually, but in some strange and twisted way, he made me feel wanted and desired. Every woman wants to believe she’s attractive and that men want her, no matter the reason behind the attraction. I was no different.

  Some men are like a bad drug, no matter how badly you want to break the habit, you just keep going back for more. It’s like the old adage that says that being in a shitty relationship is better than being in no relationship. I’d been warned to stay away from Damon for one reason or another, but did I care? Hell no.

  Damon and I had been dating off and on — translate: hooking up — for about six months and his moody, brooding behavior came and went. Some days he was sullen and withdrawn and I knew better than to press his buttons during those times. Other days he was happy and his sense of humor was infectious. My best strategy around him was to pay attention to my spidey sense and tune into which one of Damon’s personalities had shown up for our date.

  Would the night be fun, filled with laughing and partying and end up with mind-blowing sex? Or would I have to keep my eyes open, my mouth closed, and walk on eggshells around him all night long; fearful something would send him int
o a rage?

  When he became verbally abusive, the best thing for me to do was just keep my mouth shut and not fight back. Normally, he refrained from laying a hand on me, but there were a few times he yanked out chunks of my hair or punched me in places no one could see.

  Most of the time, whenever he got pissed, the anger was directed at some inanimate object like punching his fist through a wall. His crazy, out of control angry side wasn’t pretty, and in fact, it was terrifying at times.

  The first time it happened, he flew into a rage because of a freaking door ding on the driver’s side door of his pickup when we came out of the movie theater. I walked up beside him and tried to calm him down by downplaying the damage, “It’ll be fine. I can get one of the auto body techs at school to fix it for you.”

  He grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into the door, “Have them fucking fix that too while they’re at it. I mean if you’re going to blow some dude so he’ll fix my truck, make sure he earns it.” I rubbed my forehead and blinked back the tears stinging my eyes. Somehow, I feared crying would only add more fuel to the fire. I started to walk around to the other side of the pickup and he yanked me back. I couldn’t even look at him.

  “Let me go Damon, let’s just go home,” I pleaded quietly.

  I’d never seen such hatred in his eyes as I did that night. I walked around and crawled up into the cab. He got in on his side and slammed the door so hard it rocked the truck. We just sat there for awhile and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. I thought maybe he intended to wait for the driver of the car next to us to come out so he could beat the shit out of that unsuspecting person.

  The ride home was silent. He pulled up in front of the house and left the truck running and in gear. He stared straight ahead into the night through the windshield of his truck and didn’t even look at me when he said, “Sorry Jaq. See ya later, okay?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and reached for the door handle, “Yeah see ya.”

  It’s Saturday afternoon and we’re supposed to go to his three-year-old nephew’s birthday party. He was a half-hour late picking me up, which is always a red flag right off the bat. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated, and I could just tell he was definitely on something. He was agitated and antsy when he arrived, and I knew I’d have to be careful not to unwittingly ignite his fuse. Especially around his family at a little kid’s birthday party.

  I grabbed my jacket, “I’m ready when you are,” I told him, pressing my mouth into a thin smile that didn’t meet my eyes.

  His jaw clenched and he nodded toward the door, “Let’s go then.” He glanced briefly at Shelley who was at the table doing her nails. I knew he wouldn’t snap at me in front of her. He’d wait until we got outside.

  The second I closed the pickup door he glared at me through hateful eyes, “What the fuck are you wearing that for?” he asked nodding toward what I assumed was the top I wore. I had no idea what it was about the royal blue blouse that pissed him off so much.

  “I thought you liked me in this top?” I said quietly.

  “Are you really that fucking stupid?” he gunned the accelerator, chirping the tires and leaving black marks in the street. “I’m not talking about the top you stupid bitch. I’m talking about all that black shit you have around your eyes.”

  My mouth dropped open and I leaned down to glance at myself in the mirror on the outside of the door, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I had that much on.”

  “It’s a birthday party for a three-year-old, Jaq. Not some fucking place to go pick up men to take home and fuck,” he growled through clenched teeth, quietly adding: “Like you probably do whenever I’m not around.”

  I focused on some spot on the carpet by my feet and didn’t say anything, which only agitated him more. I didn’t even see it coming, he jabbed his fist into my ribs so fast and hard, I swore I heard one of them crack. I got lightheaded and swallowed a few times to keep my lunch from reappearing in my lap. Knowing if he was mad now, puking in his truck would just about seal my fate.

  By the time we got to Happy’s Pizza Parlor, crazy Damon had disappeared, leaving teddy bear Damon in his place, “Awe baby, I’m sorry. You just make me crazy sometimes. I had a rough day. Okay?” he spoke in the soft, sickening sweet voice he used whenever he was apologizing for being a dick, which was often these days.

  I put on my best, ‘It’s okay but you’re a no good mother fucker’ smile and nodded my head like an obedient little girl. “I’m sorry I made you mad Damon.”

  He flung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me too his side. I tried not to flinch from the pain it caused in, what I was sure was a cracked, maybe even broken, rib. “Let’s just have a good time. If you’re a good girl, I might even let you suck my dick later.”

  I tried not to flinch away from him, and thought to myself, ‘believe me you sonofabitch, you don’t want my teeth anywhere near your dick right now.’

  Chapter 30

  “Where are you and sexy pants going tonight?” Shelley asked as she leaned against the door frame watching me work my hair into a french braid.

  “I wish you’d stop calling him that ridiculous nickname,” I said with a frown creasing my forehead. “I’m not sure where Damon’s taking me tonight. He said it was a surprise and told me to look hot.”

  Shelley nodded and said, “Well have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “As if,” I called out while she walked away.

  I never knew quite what to wear whenever Damon and I went anywhere. If I dressed too casually he might get pissed and tell me I looked like a guy. If I wore something too sexy and he was in one of his moods, there’d be hell to pay. It was always a crap shoot where his moods were concerned. I must’ve tried on everything in my closet, some things twice, before I settled on an off-white linen skirt and a teal top. Since it was a hot day in mid-July, I decided to wear something cool and comfortable.

  I was relieved when Damon arrived on time and I met him at the front door. I bit my bottom lip nervously and held my breath, as his steely gray eyes raked over me from head to toe and back again. He didn’t say anything, but when his face lit up with a smile that played at the corners of his mouth, I knew I’d chosen wisely for the night. I let out the breath I’d been holding and smiled at him.

  “Hey baby, you look sexy as hell,” he said. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist and brushed his lips across mine. Relieved, the tension washed from my body and I sagged against him for a brief instant.

  In spite of him being an asshole most of the time, he still had plenty of panty dampening charm when he wanted to. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and tried not to think about how my body reacted whenever he touched me in a certain way or looked at me with lust in his eyes.

  He had on a newish-looking pair of jeans and instead of one of the usual ratty tshirts he normally wore; he had on a long-sleeved black Henley. When Damon bought a shirt that fit across his muscular chest, it hung like a fat lady’s mu-mu around his hips. If the shirt fit his narrow hips, it looked like he’d snagged it out of the children’s department.

  “You look mighty fine yourself,” I said, smiling appreciatively.

  He held my hand as we walked toward his truck and surprised me when he walked around to open the passenger door for me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise and thanked him. He patted me on the butt as I stepped up inside the cab, “Have I ever told you how much I like you in a skirt?”

  He hadn’t ever brought it up before, but maybe that was because I’d never worn one when we were together. “No, I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”

  He leaned close enough for me to feel his breath in my hair, “Yeah, when you wear a skirt, I fantasize about the easy access your skirt gives, and those long legs of yours wrapped around my hips.” He grinned when he saw the color rise on my cheeks and gave me a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I hope you’re not wearing panties.”

  My eyes went wide at his comment, and
I figured two could play this game, “Just that crotchless pair you like so well,” I lied.

  His eyes darkened seductively, “You’re lucky we need to leave, or I’d bend you over and fuck you hard right here while your neighbors all watch.” He feathered his fingers up my inner thigh before he pulled away and slammed the truck door. Thanks for painting that picture, I thought as I watched him walk around in front of the pickup to get in.

  “You’re insatiable, you know that?” I muttered.

  He reached over and traced his thumb along my lower lip, leaned in and kissed me hard then shook his head, “Damn, baby.” He tugged at the crotch of his pants and squirmed in his seat. “See what you do to me? I think a little road head sounds good right about now.”

  “Um yeah. That would be a no,” I shook my head and stared out the passenger side window, trying to suppress the naughty things my inner slut wanted to do with him.

  The warm sound of his laughter filled the cab, “Just fuckin’ with ya Jaq,” he said and smacked his hand onto my bare thigh hard enough for it to sting. He started the truck and headed out toward the highway.

  “So, where are we going?” I asked.

  His face opened up into a wide grin, “Wedding reception at the Hills.”

  I gave him a sidelong glance, “Friend of yours get married today?”

  “You might say that,” he chuckled. “Though I think he was a closer friend of yours.”

  “A friend of mine?” I narrowed my eyes in confusion and stared sideways at him. “I wasn’t aware any of my friends got married today.”

  “Yeah, I don’t suppose you were on Seth’s invitation list,” he said. The sick, sadistic grin that snaked its way across his face made me want to throw up. He obviously loved every minute of the discomfort this was causing me.