“I’m kidding,” she says, giggling some more. “They’re probably chasing down some teenager who thought he could get away with speeding.” She continues to look behind us until the lights and noises are farther away. “Fooled you though, didn’t I?”
“Hardly.” Truth is, I thought that maybe she was telling the truth. The young and innocent look works for her with her big doe eyes and cherub face, although she’s anything but. She carries condoms and a weapon in her bag. I can’t help but wonder what else she has in that thing.
“Sure,” she replies with a grin. “Anyway, did you have fun?” Mischief dances in her eyes while her fingers dance across my stomach.
“I did,” I answer honestly, looking down at her full lips.
“See, aren’t you glad you almost killed me?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m glad I fucked you.”
“I think I fucked you. I was on top,” she states, moving away from me and settling into her seat.
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
Once again, she laughs. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” She throws her phone and book into the messenger back, and says, “So, you wanna take me back to where you found me?”
“Down the street? That’s where you wanna go?”
“Yep. Don’t need you knowing where I live. You might be a stalker.”
I shrug, unaffected. “Okay.” I don’t fault her for her way of thinking, because it’s the same way I do. I put the truck in reverse and begin backing out into the street. I feel a little more relaxed now. Calm. Hopefully it lasts a while, and hopefully Kathy brings her ass back into town soon.
“You wanna tell me what happened to your hand?” she asks.
“Not really. You wanna tell me why you carry a weapon around with you?”
“I told you.”
I pause. “For protection, huh?” She nods once. “You were right in your assumption at the gas station. I beat someone up.”
“Did they deserve it?”
I look at her with a raised brow. “Most people would ask why.”
She shrugs. “I’m not most people, and it doesn’t matter why, as long as you felt it was necessary.”
I focus back on the road and answer. “He deserved it.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and soon I’m back to the section of the road where I almost hit her.
“Well, thanks for the ride,” she lifts her brows and giggles. “No pun intended.”
“Right,” I say with a shake of my head, my lips turning up on one side.
“Good-night, bloody hands,” she says, climbing out of the truck.
“Good-night, cupcake.”
She flips me off and runs across the road, disappearing into the dark shadows.
I wake up Sunday morning at ten o’clock, getting about seven hours of sleep. Even though I’d like nothing more than to stay home and not do anything, I have to run to the store to grab some groceries.
In this small, mountain community, most everybody knows everybody else. While more than half the residents have probably lived here most of their lives, I’ve only been here a few years, but the people in Goodwin’s grocery store still talk to me like they’ve known me forever.
“Hey, Donovan,” the elderly cashier, Mary, greets as I walk in.
“Hi, Mary,” I respond with your average friendly grin.
“How’s it going, dear? Haven’t seen you in a little while.”
“Everything’s good. Just busy with work,” I answer, trying to inch further away. Mary’s a chatty old woman.
She smiles a grandmotherly smile. “You’re a good boy. Hardworking. That’s nice. Not a lot of young men know what hard work is.”
I plaster on another forced smile. “Thanks.”
Finally getting away, I make my way down the aisles, grabbing everything I need. About fifteen minutes later, I’m done, and making sure I don’t go to Mary’s cash register. I just don’t have it in me to stand and talk for ten minutes.
As I’m loading the bags in the back of my truck, I look up and something catches my eye. A woman walks behind a car and bends down, briefly masking her identity, but when she pops back up and continues walking, I realize who it is.
What the fuck is she doing out here?
I watch her as I finish putting everything away. She gets to the end of the parking lot before jogging across the road and going inside the 7-Eleven that’s over there. I decide to wait, watching to see where she goes next, because it’s too much of a coincidence that she’s out here.
Across from the grocery store, Lake Gregory is alive with people. The lake is surrounded by the pine-forested mountains, and at eighty-four acres, the regional park is where a lot of families go in the summer. Kids play on the inflated water structure—chock full of slides, swings, and diving platforms, and parents go out on paddle boats, while the teenage girls lay on the beach to get a tan.
Leaning against the back of my truck, I turn my attention back to the 7-Eleven and watch as she comes traipsing out and back towards the grocery store. When she looks up, she sees me and stops in her tracks. After taking a second to compose herself, she finishes crossing the street and walks in my direction.
I don’t bother moving from my place, because I know she’ll come to me.
“Hey,” she says, sounding nervous.
“Analeigh,” I greet. “What’re you doing here?”
She looks surprised at the question, but looks over to the lake, gesturing with her finger. “I’m just hanging out at the lake.” After glancing at the grocery store, she looks back at me. “You live nearby?”
I don’t bother telling her that my home is only about ten minutes away. “You know someone around here?”
She shakes her head. “My friend wanted to come, and she invited me, so I came,” she says with a shrug. “I was just looking for some sunscreen, but they didn’t have any.”
“Hmm.”
After a pregnant pause that stretches to an uncomfortable amount of time, she speaks up again. “Look, Donovan, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“Really?” I ask with a humorless laugh, peering down at her with doubt in my eyes. “You have my number.”
“I know. I just didn’t think you’d answer if I called. I was hoping you’d come by the restaurant or the strip club.”
“Why would I do that?”
She places her hands in the back pockets of her jean shorts, looking away. “I don’t know.” Analeigh looks up into my eyes, shame oozing from her own. “I’m sorry, Donovan. I feel like shit for what I said the last time we were together. It wasn’t right, and I shouldn’t have pushed you to reveal everything you went through as a kid.”
I cross my arms across my chest and nod once. “Okay.”
She lets out a puff of air, her shoulders slumping in defeat. When she looks at me again, I can see emotion swimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry for something else, too.” I remain quiet, waiting for her to say it. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
My eyes narrow and I tilt my head. “Lied about what?”
“I told you that we could be friends. I told you I wasn’t interested in a boyfriend, but . . .” she hesitates, nerves taking over as she takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her hair. “I like you, Donovan. I like you a lot. I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I’m sorry for wanting to know more about you, but it’s just because I like you,” she finishes on an exhale, looking into my eyes.
I start shaking my head. “This isn’t gonna end well,” I warn her, because I know it won’t.
“I can handle your past. I can handle you, Donovan. I’m not judging you for thinking that those assholes need to die. I don’t blame you for thinking that way. I wish my parents were dead,” she says with a nervous laugh before turning serious again. “My dad drinks, yes, but it’s . . . it’s worse than that.” She turns her head, taking a minute to get her emotions under control. “My mom left me. She left me with him knowing how he was. She could�
��ve taken me, but she didn’t. They’re terrible people, and I’ve thought about their deaths more times than I’d like to admit. So, I get it. I do. We all have dark thoughts. Just give us a try.”
She’s pleading with me with her beautiful green eyes. The unshed tears make them appear glassy, and her bottom lip is red from her constantly biting on it. I’ve come to realize she does that when she’s both turned on and nervous.
There’s no denying how gorgeous she is, and any man would be happy to have her, so I’m unsure why she wants me. While I know this won’t work, because she’ll eventually get tired of me keeping things from her, I figure what’s the point in keeping us both from enjoying each other’s company.
We’ll be able to fuck like we’ve been doing, and if she wants me to take her out, I don’t mind doing that from time to time, but she can’t expect me to give her my heart. I’ll never love her like she’ll want me to. I won’t be able to tell her everything about me. And that’s what’s going to break her heart, she just doesn’t know it yet. She thinks she’ll be able to change me, but she’s wrong. In all the other stories, the anti-hero or villain always makes an exception for the girl he loves. He always changes in some way to accommodate her, but that’s not me. It won’t happen.
I decide to give her one last chance to back out of this. Once I tell her this, I don’t know how she’ll react, but telling her will give her a pass to change her mind.
“Okay,” I say, watching her eyes light up and a small smile begin to touch her lips. “But I have to tell you something first. It may change your mind.”
“What?” she asks softly.
“I fucked someone else last night,” I state plainly.
She cringes, her head jerking back slightly like I hit her. “Oh.”
I shrug one shoulder. “We were never together.”
“Right. Yeah, I know,” she says, nodding her head, but I can see the pain in her eyes.
“I’ll understand if you were with someone else in the past two weeks, too.”
“I wasn’t,” she replies, her voice cracking slightly. “Was it just the once?” I nod. “Okay, well, I can’t be mad at you for that.”
“Okay,” I respond. “Remember what I’ve told you, though. I can’t make any promises to you. I won’t be a normal boyfriend. There will be things I keep from you, and that’s just the way it’ll be.”
“You won’t sleep with anybody else, will you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then, okay,” she says, stepping up to me and wrapping her arms around my waist.
I slowly place my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. We stay like that for a little while before she steps back, smiling at me.
“I should get these groceries home,” I say.
“Oh, yeah. Shit. I hope nothing melted.”
“It’s okay.”
“Will I . . .” she begins, but stops herself. “Never mind.”
I don’t ask her to finish her question, because I know what it was. She was going to ask if she’ll ever be able to go to my house, and the answer is, I don’t know.
“Your friend is probably wondering where you are,” I say.
“Yeah, probably. Oh well. So, when can I see you again?”
“Well, I’ll be busy at work this week, so I don’t know. I’ll text you, though.”
She grins. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I reply, smiling back at her.
She stretches up onto her tip-toes and kisses me on the lips—twice.
“Well, guess I should get going,” she says, jerking her thumb in the direction of the lake.
“Me too. I’ll talk to you soon.”
She runs off, crossing the street with a final wave goodbye as I climb in my truck and get back on the road.
Well, we’ll see how long this lasts.
Analeigh: I’m bored. What’re you doing?
Me: Just got out of the shower and about to look for something to eat.
Analeigh: How was work today?
I PUT THE phone down for a minute so I can dry myself off and throw on my sweatpants. I got home from work about an hour ago, and luckily for me, the uneven foundation at work wasn’t the one I buried Steve’s body under, so I don’t have to worry about that anymore.
Analeigh and I have either texted or talked on the phone every day since we saw each other at the grocery store. So, four days. I know that may not seem like a lot to most people, but I rarely talk to people on the phone, so four days of constant communication is different for me. It hasn’t been too bad, though. I guess. She’s mostly asking me questions about my day or talking about hers. Sometimes I find it’s nice to have someone to vent to, because I can’t really tell the guys at work that I think they’re lazy shitheads or annoying assholes.
Me: It was all right. Work is work. I’m glad to be home.
Analeigh: Yeah, I bet. I’ll be free Friday night. You wanna hang out? We can grab some food and come back to my place. I think my roommate has plans.
Me: That should work.
Analeigh: Okay, good. Call me when you’re done eating.
Me: Okay.
I make myself a few chili-cheese dogs, taking the plate and a can of Coke to the couch to watch the sports channel. A half hour later, I put my stuff away and grab the phone to call Analeigh. While it rings, I flip through the channels, landing on the nightly news.
“Hi, Tim. I’m on I-10, standing outside ARCO, where just earlier this morning . . .”
“Hey!” Analeigh answers cheerfully.
“Hey,” I repeat, turning the volume down on the TV.
“You nice and full now?” she asks.
“Yeah, and tired as fuck,” I say, dropping my head back and closing my eyes.
“Aww, poor baby,” she says with a giggle. “I wish I was there. I could give you a massage or something.”
“Mm, that would be nice.”
“I know, and then I could do other things to you,” she says in a soft, seductive tone.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, a grin forming on my lips. “Like what?”
“You know what.”
“Humor me.”
“I could put your cock in my mouth.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Fuck, Donovan,” she moans. “I miss your cock. I want to taste you again. I want you to fuck my mouth.”
I groan and slide my hand into my sweats. “I want to fuck that naughty mouth of yours. I want my cock to touch the back of your throat each time I thrust in.”
“Yeah,” she moans, stretching out the word. “Mmm. I wanna ride you. I want to feel that big cock deep inside of me.”
With my dick in my hand, I begin stroking myself as I listen to her moans and fantasies through the phone. “What else do you want to do?”
She pauses, breathing heavily into the receiver. “I want you to choke me.”
My cock throbs even more. “You like when I choke you?” I ask, my voice rough.
“Yes. I love it, Donovan.” I hear her moan again and know she’s touching herself too.
“What else do you love?” I question, hoping to get more out of her.
“I love when you’re rough with me. I love when you hit me.”
“Fuck,” I growl, stroking my cock faster.
“God, I’m so wet, Donovan. I want you so bad.”
“You want me to slap your wet pussy? You want me to choke you while I fuck you hard from behind? You want me to smack you on your thighs, making that cunt drip for me?”
“Oh shit,” she cries. “Yes, I want that.”
We both stop talking for several seconds, the only sounds we make are our moans and heavy panting. I jerk my cock harder, needing this release.
“I want to shoot my load on your pussy and watch my come mix with your arousal. I want to watch you slide your fingers through your pussy lips and then taste us both.”
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh fuck, I’m about to come.”
I groan, feeling my release ge
tting closer while listening to her scream in pleasure.
“Fuck!” I bellow, feeling the come shoot onto my bare stomach.
“Yes, I wish I was there to lick it up,” she says, still breathing heavily.
“Mm,” I groan, easing up on the pace as I watch the last drips come out and form a small pool.
“God!” she exclaims. “That was good. I can’t wait until Friday, though.”
“Me either.”
“Well, I guess I’ll let you clean up,” she says with a giggle.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good-night.”
“Night.”
After hanging up, I just want to fall asleep, but my hand and stomach are covered in come, so I need to get up and clean myself off. It’s not long before I’m in bed and falling asleep, looking forward to fucking her just as we described.
Thursday drags on, but eventually the work day ends, and I get to go back home. Nick is distant, probably still pissed at me for not killing his dad.
What a weird fucking thing to be mad at someone for.
Miguel, on the other hand, keeps getting caught looking at me. Anytime I looked around, whether I was in the truck, taking a break, or walking around the site, I would turn and find him staring at me. Once I would catch him, he’d look away of course, but something in his expression makes me think he thinks he’s got a reason to hate me. He doesn’t, and honestly, I wouldn’t give a shit if he did. I don’t like the way he keeps fucking looking at me.
After work, I head out to Kathy’s house, hoping to find she’s back in town, but it appears the house is still vacant. Fuck. How long do rich people vacation for? It’s been nearly three weeks. I see a maid come out of her house and walk towards a car. Makes sense that she’d have someone come by to make sure the place stays clean.
I climb out of the truck and jog towards the middle-aged Hispanic woman. “Excuse me,” I call out, using my most charming smile. “Hi,” I greet, coming to a stop in front of her. “Is Kathy home?”
She regards me cautiously for a few seconds. “No, she’s not.”
“Oh, shucks,” I say, looking disappointed. “I knew she went out of town, but I was hoping she’d be back by now.”
Darkness Within Page 13