by H. J. Bellus
Miles turns to look at me.
“I have to say this before we go in there. Miles, I love you. I have felt more alive these past couple months than I have my whole life. You forced me to face my problems, and held my hand while I did. I was mean, cruel, and a downright bitch to you the whole time. You just need to know that I love you and will love you no matter what has happened in this trailer or what lies before us. I will even love you when you tell Milly. I choose you forever, Miles.”
Miles leans down and kisses my forehead, and then turns back and opens the door. I am immediately assaulted with the stench of death, and quickly reminded of the harsh reality awaiting us in the single wide.
He makes his way up the stairs, never letting go of my hand. When we enter the trailer I instantly spot an aged, dying Milly lying on the couch. The resemblance between the mother-daughter duo is downright bone chilling. She glances up from the television, watches us standing there for a second, and then goes back to her program.
“Hey, Mom,” Miles says as he squats next to her and takes her hand.
“I told you to leave, boy. You never were a bright one.”
“I brought someone home this time to meet you. She’s the girl I’ve been talking about when I come home,” Miles says as he gestures to me.
The skeleton of a woman turns her head to look at me and I can feel every inch of her analyzing me as she runs her eyes over me. Her eyes are cold and hard, and definitely devoid of any love.
“You must want to lose her then if you brought her here.”
“No, Mom.”
“Boy, you are as stupid as you look.”
I lunge forward at the mention of those words directed towards Miles. But what was I going to do, choke a dying woman? Miles stands to stop me. I grab his hand and smile back at the woman.
Sensing my irritation, the woman continues. “If I taught you anything, it was the only thing you’re good for is to be used. She’ll use ya and throw ya away like the trash you are. You’re stubborn like your momma, or maybe just a foolish, hopeless romantic.”
I watch Miles take every single one of her words. He accepts them and wears them on his sleeve, and I can hear the invisible tattoo gun imprinting each one of these nasty fueled words on his heart. I don’t understand the cycle of this type of abuse, nor do I need to, but there’s one thing that does need to be made clear, so might as well get that out of the way right off the bat.
Kneeling down next to Miles, I grab his hand, and begin. “Sarah, right? Let’s get this one thing straight. I love your brilliant son and always will. I won’t allow you to treat him like trash just because you value your life as such. So, just keep your nasty comments to yourself—in fact, take them to the grave with you. Oh, and once you get there, you can rest easy knowing that your son will be taken care of for the rest of his life by me.”
“She’ll break your heart, son. I can tell you that one thing right now.”
“Actually, you’ve made it impossible to break his heart, Sarah, when you have severed it into thousands of pieces from your years of neglect and abuse. Why he still loves you, I’ll never know. The one thing that I do know for a fact, is that I’ll never take the love he has for you away, because that’s the single piece of Miles that separates him from the trash that you are and always will be.”
Standing up, I back away from the couch. “It was very nice to meet you, and I look forward to my stay here.”
“We’re going to get settled in, Mom. Let me know if you need anything,” Miles says.
Chapter 12
Time to Fight
Willow
He grabs my hand and leads me down a very dark, musty, and extremely narrow hallway. When he reaches the second door on the right, he opens it up and welcomes me into his bedroom. It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the trailer that I’ve seen so far. The walls are painted a fresh white and covered in muscle car posters with ladies exposing their parts everywhere. Typical man.
Miles shuts the door behind us and I immediately feel like shit for lighting into his mom, but I never will have the courage to keep my mouth shut when someone is degrading him or anyone I love. Sick or not, I still want to rip her fucking head off.
“Miles, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did, but I love you.”
“Willow.”
“You’re pissed right now. You don’t have to talk to me.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed. You’re right about that, but not at you. I’m fucking pissed at myself for loving my mom. No matter how hard I’ve tried to stop loving her, I can’t, and I come back to take care of her. It’s sick. A sick cycle I can’t break, but I can’t turn on my mom, Willow.”
“And that’s why I love you so much, Miles.”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
I start giggling and slap his chest. “You don’t have to say that every time, you dork.”
“I’m your boyfriend now and I need to keep reminding myself of it.”
We collapse onto his bed and kiss. I roll over on top of him, straddling his mid-section and pull his shirt off over his head.
“I’ve waited a long time to kiss these freaking abs as your girlfriend. I wanted to rip your shirt off that first day you walked in The Shop and have my dirty way with you.”
Miles lifts his head up from the bed, making eye contact. “Nothing stopping you now, baby.”
I lean down and let my lips linger on his skin and start swaying my head back and forth against his abs. Miles has several scars covering his right side and I take time to lick and kiss each one of them. One day I’ll ask where they came from.
He reaches down and pulls my shirt over my head. To match his move, I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. We’ve fooled around quite a bit, but never fully exposed ourselves to each other. I fully release my bra and throw it over his head.
“Oh dear God. I’m not going to be able to stop this time, Willow,” he growls as he sits up, coming face to face with me.
“I don’t want you to.”
Miles grabs my ass and pulls me down on him. Snaking my hand down between us, I find his growing erection and cup it.
“Fuck,” Miles growls.
“Let me do this.”
I push Miles back on the bed and unbutton his jeans. He tries to sit up again, grabbing my breasts and putting one in his mouth. His lips form a tight seal around my nipple as he bites down on it, sending me straight up into a sitting position.
“Miles,” I scream as I pull his hair and push his face into me.
I can feel his fingers fumbling for the buttons of my jeans and I instantly stop him.
“No. You’re not touching me. Hands down. Mouth off.”
“What? You don’t like it?”
“Oh fuck, it killed me to just say that, but I want you this time. Hands off.”
Miles leans back on his elbows with a smirk on his face. “You can’t handle me not touching you.”
“Watch me.”
Determined, I go back to work on him, unzipping his jeans and tugging them all the way off. His tighty whities make me chuckle, but they leave quickly, too. I’m left with the glorious man in front of me. Long, lean and bronzed with scars and tattoos that cover his body. He’s the mirror image of the man who has relentlessly loved me for the past months, and the one person who never gave up on me when I was at my lowest. Yes, I’m left with my boyfriend, who I now know owns every single piece of me.
I work my hand up and down his shaft, barely able to concentrate on the motion with all the zinging action shooting through me. I want nothing more in this moment than to bury myself in him. Rip my panties off, ride him, and scream his name as our juices mix together. I have to take care of him first. There’s an underlying need that I must lay claim to. It’s time to make him mine. Mark him.
“I’m going to suck you now,” I hiss as I look up at Miles through my lashes.
I carefully and methodically rub my lips against his head, embracing the musky scent
already coming off him. There is a desire coursing through my body to lick every piece of Miles and I do so. I start at his base and lick my way all the way to his tip several times before I take him completely in my mouth.
“Fuck,” he hisses again, and he grabs the side of my hair.
I slow up on purpose, forcing Miles to shove my head down on his cock. Choking slightly, I continue my assault with a mixture of my lips, teeth, and tongue. I notice Miles start to pulse and squirm, between his hand slamming my head down and his hips fucking my mouth, I’m certain he’s about to go.
Miles stills his body and releases my hair. “Stop, Willow. Stop. I’m going to come.”
Ignoring his warning, I speed up my pace and growl, letting him know that I’m ready for him.
“Jesus Christ! Willow, I’m going to—”
Miles yells as he finally lets go of his release in my mouth, and I make sure to lap up every drop before I climb up his body to find my resting place.
“That was—” Miles starts, but is unable to finish his thought.
“That was me owning you. Laying claim and making you all mine.”
Miles lifts my face to look me in the eye, “Baby, you already owned me, but whenever you feel the need to remind me, by all means, get on it.”
I smile and Miles flips me over to my back.
“My turn, crazy girl.”
Wrapping my legs around Miles’ waist, I pull him down and begin to kiss him. I feel his hand make a very sneaky trail down my breast, over my belly, and in between my legs. Without warning, he shoves his fingers into me, causing me to scream. He covers my mouth with his as he slowly starts to massage my clit while he relentlessly pounds into me. My hips join in on the rhythm and my screams continue, but are muffled by Miles’ mouth. He instantly stops and parts his lips away from me.
“Can you promise to be quiet?” he asks.
Out of breath, I reply, “Fuck, no. Fuck, Miles I was about to go.”
“I know,” he chuckles.
“Fucker! Get back to work.”
“Here, put this over your mouth and scream into it,” he says as he hands me a pillow.
And before I know what’s happening, Miles is centered between my legs, lapping and licking, and I really start to scream. Grabbing a handful of his hair, I beg Miles to go faster and harder. His tongue and fingers deliciously work in unison to send me over the edge. I’m riding out the wave of my orgasm when I hear his bedroom door fly open.
“Miles, you fucker. Thanks for calling.” The blond man in the doorway has no clue that Miles is currently eating out the pussy of a woman because he’s staring intently down at his phone. It takes him about ten seconds before he looks up.
“Jesus Christ, Miles.”
Miles flies up over me to cover as much skin as possible.
“Fuck, Lance. Nothing like fucking knocking before you come in.
“Fuck. You never bring a girl home.”
“Get the fuck out and quit arguing.”
The man turns around and leaves.
“I am so sorry, baby. That’s Lance, one of my best friends. He must have spotted my car.”
“He saw us and then just stood there,” is all I can manage to get out.
“I’ll kick his ass. I’m sorry. Let me get dressed and go see what he needs.”
Miles peels away from me and begins throwing his clothes on from the floor. He leans over me in the bed, and whispers, “This ain’t over, crazy girl. I’m going balls deep tonight.”
He then kisses me before I can scold his ass for being so disgusting.
“Miles, only you would promise a girl that.”
“I’ll be back,” he says as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
On the several hour drive here, I promised myself that I would learn everything about Miles, from his nasty past to all of his bright spots that thrive here in his hometown. I climb out of his bed and find my clothes scattered everywhere in his bedroom and can’t help but giggle about how out of control we were. I look into the shattered mirror next to his dresser to readjust my not very messy bun on the top of my head. As I put my lace headband back in place, I notice a picture of me taped on his wall right above his dresser. There’s a single fortune taped on it: “Beautiful things await you.”
It’s a picture from one of our swimming trips. I’m sitting on Miles’ lap in a bright neon green chevron patterned bikini that he and Annie bought for me. One of his arms is wrapped around my middle, holding me tight, and his other arm is stretched out to take our selfie while his lips are kissing my cheek. It’s the first reminder of how truly happy he makes me. Taking the picture from the wall, I notice there’s writing on the back.
This is my girl. I only pray that one day she will love me. I found her by accident, but will hold onto her forever. Please just let this one thing in my life work, God. Let her still love me after she knows my whole story. Don’t let my circumstances ruin this. Not this time. I love this crazy girl.
Miles is such a broken soul held together by sheer determination of not allowing life to tear him to shreds. How he was ever there for me day after day, I’ll never know. Not once did he complain or hint about how hellish his life has been. Nope, instead he enjoys every single moment of life like a rare gift. He’ll never know how close I was to ending everything before he saved me, or know that there was never a chance of losing me because our hearts were born to love each other. We have that type of love that cannot be destroyed. It may hurt and sting, but it will never be destroyed by his mother or my family.
I snag a pen and also write on the back of the picture.
This crazy girl met a big goofy kid one day, and her heart never had a chance of not loving him forever. Miles, I will love you now and forever. Your Crazy Girl.
The sun is going down outside, and although it’s warmer here in California, I throw on Miles’ hoodie and head across the street. The devil is asleep as I pass her on the couch. Thank the lord because I’m not strong willed enough to not engage her in a verbal attack. Stepping out of the trailer, I’m quickly reminded of how wobbly the fucking steps are.
The trailer park has definitely sprung to life since Miles and I pulled in. The evening must pull everyone out of their trailers. Loud music and children playing catch fill the road. I spot Miles sitting on the back of his car while his friend and a couple other guys stand around shooting the shit. The sounds of about a hundred barking dogs fill the air, and I hear some cat calls and whistling from a couple trailers down. I could stop and stare at all the activity around me and analyze all the happenings going on, but instead I put my head down and walk towards Miles.
“Willow,” I hear Miles holler, so I pick up my pace.
He jumps off the back of the car and scoops me up in his arms, kissing me hard. He grabs my ass cheeks and hoists me up to his previous spot on the trunk of the car.
“Jesus. Miles, I thought she was gonna be a fucking ugly one since you had a pillow over her face while chowing box,” the blond guy fires off.
“You asshole.”
“Well, you did.”
“Lance, you’ve probably never been able to make a girl scream, so you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Fuck off, dickweed,” the blond guy says as the rest of the men howl in laughter.
As for me, I’m currently a shade of purple listening to the men talk about chowing box and making women scream. Miles leans back between my legs and rest his elbows up on my knees.
“This is my girl, Willow.”
“Miles ain’t ever brought anyone home. He’s had plenty of women, but never brought one home to the park,” the dark haired one says.
“Yeah, we don’t call him Miles the machine for nothing,” the third guy chirps.
“Enough,” Miles finally declares.
“Willow, this is Lance, Tommy, and Luke. We all grew up together.”
“Hey,” I squeak and wave my hand.
Lance says, “You’re
fucking hot, I’d never cover your face.”
Miles lunges forward and punches him in the chest. Tommy and Luke just laugh like this is typical shit that goes down between these two all the time. I notice that all of Luke’s knuckles are scabbed over and he has quite the shiner on his left eye. These boys look like the neighborhood boys that you don’t fuck with. I guess besides being utterly embarrassed in front of them, this is one thing going my way tonight.
“So, you fighting tonight or what, you pussy?” Tommy finally asks.
Miles looks back at me, and nods. “Yeah, I need at least two more fights to get Mom the meds she needs.”
“Fuck yeah! Can’t wait to see you get your pussy kicked,” Lance squeals.
“Fuck, Lance, you know nobody ain’t ever beat Miles’ ass. Hell! The last two times he fought he didn’t even get as much as a scrape,” Tommy quickly defends.
“Let’s go fucking kick some bitches’ asses,” Luke says as he walks towards the large SUV parked behind Miles’ car.
“You driving?” Lance asks.
“Yeah, I’ll drive my car,” Miles says.
“Don’t look so shocked, buttercup. Your man is the one everyone wants to fight and all the chicks want. Looks like you’re on the winning team.”
The three men climb into the black Escalade and Miles walks over to me. He grabs my bottom jaw and gently closes it. I start to shake my head side to side, letting him know that I’m scared and that this is a stupid idea.
“This is how I survive, Willow. I need to fight for money, and to let out the fucking demons building up inside me.”
“I’m scared, Miles.”
“You want to stay with Wynnie? You don’t have to go.”
“What if you don’t come back?”
Miles chuckles. “I’ll come back. Don’t be dramatic. I might come back a bloody mess, but I’ll be back.”
“I want to go,” I say.
“Good, because I want to fuck you on my car after I kick someone’s ass.”
“Miles,” I squeal.
***