by Ashley Hall
As soon as she pulled back, I wiped her tears away. I wanted to ask why she was here, but I had a feeling I already knew the answer to that.
“Wes…”
The way she said my name, it made my heart break.
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked.
She embraced me tightly again. “No.” She shook her head against my chest.
“Not even a ride to the hospital?” I offered. No way would she be able to drive herself there, not with her being so worked up.
She shook her head again. “I can’t.” She sniffed and pulled back enough to wipe her nose.
“Because he doesn’t want you there,” I growled.
“Don’t. Let’s just not talk, okay?”
So we didn’t talk. We didn’t kiss. We didn’t do anything. We just clung to each other like we were each other’s anchors. And maybe we were. Maybe we were brought together for a reason. Maybe they weren’t completely wrong about God and his big plan and all of that.
Because I felt better when I was around her. I felt like I could be a better person. Like I had potential too. Like I wasn’t a loser no one wanted to raise. Like I wasn’t messed up or scarred. Like I had worth.
And as I held her, it wasn’t anything sexy or sensual. But it was still intimate. It was bonding us. I recognized it, and it terrified me. We were step-siblings. Her father was a controlling asshole. She had faith. I didn’t. There were so many reasons why we shouldn’t be together.
And I wanted to give them all the finger. I liked who I was when I was around her, laughing and joking and teasing. I felt free to be me. For so long, I had put up walls, putting on acts and shows for the other kids at school, trying to either fit in or be ignored depending on if I gave a fuck about trying to make friends or figuring I was better off alone. With her, it was real. All of it.
That night, we ended up sleeping together. Not having sex. Just laid in my bed all night long, holding each other. It was amazing. My bed was kinda small for us both, so we had to cuddle. Now, I wasn’t normally much of a cuddler, but with April, it felt right.
Maybe it was because we feel asleep early, or maybe it was because we knew we couldn’t get caught, we both woke up really early. April woke first, and she woke me with a kiss on my cheek. When I opened my eyes, she kissed my lips. She put her tongue in my mouth, and I knew I had only fooled myself by thinking our sleeping together was only a one-time deal.
Turned out, it wasn’t just a two-time deal with either. That night, April came to my room, and when she closed and locked the door behind her, I knew I was in for it. There was a fire burning in her eyes, a fire I had given her the kindle for, and I stroked the flames all night long.
The next night, I went to her. I was frustrated that Lizzy wouldn’t keep away from me at school. Plus Walter and Yvonne had started up again with their passive aggressive shit over dinner, and I had had it.
And April seemed just as frustrated. Walter was keeping her from visiting her mom, and even though I told April repeatedly that I would take her, she refused to go. It made me hate the man all the more that he had instilled so much fear in her that she was too afraid to visit her mom in the hospital because he might find out that she had sneaked behind his back.
Our frustrations boiled over into rough sex. I pulled on her hair to deepen our kisses, and I thrust hard and fast and deep, and she responded by bucking her hips against me in rhythm with my wild lunges and scratching her nails down my back. When she slapped my ass hard, I lost control and came. But I wasn’t done with her that night, and we ended up having another two rounds.
At this rate, I needed more condoms.
The next night, though, it was different. April closed the door behind her, and we talked about what we wanted out of life, if the world was perfect. And it was relaxing and fun and deep and intense, and I wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but we didn’t rush. We took our time. We were gentle and tender, and…it was almost…it was almost love making.
I’d fucked a fair amount of girls before April. I had sex with a few, meaning that it wasn’t just for the point of coming. But this time, it was so different from any of the other times. It was more of a connection almost. I held April the rest of the night, curled up against her, and it was perfect.
It was love making.
And it freaked me out, so the next night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it again. And April was more tense too, so I knew the perfect solution.
I went down on her, eating out her delicious pussy. She loved it. There weren’t a lot of things I could do better than eating out a girl, plus it helped to relax her.
No matter what we did—whether I was eating her out or it was rough sex, or love making—all of it was hot as fuck. Which was amazing and mind blowing.
But it also made the thought of leaving her harder and harder.
On the other hand, it also clearly gave April some much needed control over her life.
While all of this was going on, the rest of my life wasn’t quite so hot, and most of it stemmed from the accident. I was haunted by visions of Roslyn’s body on the stairs, her shoulder dislocated, blood dripping from her mouth. I would remember the look on her face when I first found her and told her what was happening to April, and that was when I knew Roslyn was a good woman trapped in a vile household. She needed her daughter, and her daughter needed her. I still couldn’t believe how manipulative Walter was, that he wouldn’t let April see Roslyn. He knew just what to say to keep control of April, to trap her with guilt, always saying Roslyn needed her rest and didn’t need anymore stress on her plate.
As for Jacqueline, she kept pressing me about whether or not I got myself a car, and I kept on lying to her even though it was getting harder and harder to. I was claiming I was working on a fixer upper at work, and I was either walking, catching rides from April or friends, or taking public transportation.
Walter, the scumbag, made my skin crawl every time I saw him, but I kept tabs on him as best as I could. He was leaving the house more and more frequently, and no one, not Jacqueline or Yvonne, would tell any of us where he was going, and somehow, I doubted he was running off all the time to see Roslyn.
Just what was he up to?
Chapter Twenty-Six
By the time the weekend rolled around, I wasn’t sure if this past week had been the best one of my life or the worst. And now that it was time for the youth trip, I had a feeling it was gonna get even worse.
April drove us all over to the church, and everyone was piled into a bus. The younger kids all sat in the front, and April claimed the last seat all the way in the back. I slid in beside her. She smiled at me but then looked around, and I nodded. We couldn’t be too obvious about anything. Too many eyes.
So we kept quiet, and the ride was long enough that April fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. It felt so natural to be here with her, even if our destination wasn’t my first choice. I couldn’t believe how much she’d changed in the weeks I’d known her. And what made it better was that I didn’t think she’d changed for me. No. She’d changed for herself. She’d always had some fire in her, some spark, and now she was letting it grow and shine more. She was coming into her own, in more ways than one, and I wasn’t only interested in the way she was behaving sexually.
If only she could take that one last step and stand up to her asshole of a father.
The scenery rolled on by, not nearly as pretty of a sight as April when I felt a hand rub up and down my leg. Hell, seemed like April had forgotten her warning.
I was careful not to make eye contact so as not to draw attention. Her soft hand rubbed my upper thigh, moving closer to my groin, and by the time she worked up the courage to rub my cock through my tight jeans, she had a big bulge to rub. Her touch always drove me wild, and my cock was so hard for her. Her gripping and rubbing it through my jeans with so many people around us made it even hotter, made my cock ever harder.
“Two can play that game,” I growled i
nto her ear, and she shivered.
Time for me to return the favor.
I casually put my hand on her knee, which meant it had to be beneath her long skirt. On Sundays, she typically wore more conservative clothes, and she was wearing church clothes right now. It made this even sexier—the contrast between her outward good girl appearance and her inner sexy vixen.
I rubbed her soft skin and slid my hand up a few inches on her thigh. She squeezed her legs together and gave the tiniest of whimpers. I shook my head and started to move my hand away, but she yanked on my arm to keep me in place. Still, I didn’t touch higher than halfway up her thigh, not wanting to risk getting caught in a really compromising position. I didn’t give a fuck about my reputation, but April’s meant too much for me to tarnish it.
Which meant that we couldn’t do more than what we were already doing, and we were both breathing heavily and dying for more when the bus pulled to a stop.
A tall guy who looked to be in his early twenties stood at the front of the bus and clapped his hands. He was the one in charge. Crossed off our names as we climbed onto the bus. When I gave my name, he’d started to make a scene about how glad he was to have a newcomer onboard until April smoothly let it be known that I was grateful to be here and more than willing to go. A lie, but it shut him up and that was all that matter.
He cleared his throat, but it took a little bit for the kids on the bus to quiet enough for him to talk. “We’re here to help this poor town. As you can see,” he pointed to the windows, but I didn’t bother to look outside, too busy staring at April and the hazy look of lust in her eyes as I traced circles on her thigh, “there’s been a lot of damage from a recent mudslide. You’ll be helping to clean up and provide relief to those who need it. But first, as always, study.”
The guy gave more instructions, but I stopped paying him attention. I followed the crowd off the bus, and we all unpacked our things at the campgrounds. Then we were herded to the local church like cattle to start our study. We were broken up into groups by age, and April and I were in the eldest group.
I hung back. This wasn’t my crowd, and I felt more than a little uncomfortable. The same couldn’t be said about April. She mingled with her church friends, and I was amazed by how effortlessly she could put up with the religious bullshit. After my life, religion just wasn’t in the cards for me.
If I could ever convince April to leave all of this behind, would that be an issue, my not being religious? Well, it wasn’t going to ever happen—her leaving this or my turning religious—so there wasn’t a point in worrying about it.
A guy in charge, John, came into the room. He wore a plastic, non-stop smile as he led the study. “Hi, everyone. So glad you’re all here. Aren’t you glad to be here?”
Most everyone nodded or responded in the positive. I didn’t move a muscle, and I didn’t say a word.
“Please. Let’s all sit down.” He spread out his hands to the chairs arranged in a huge circle.
Everyone moved to comply, and I made sure to sit next to April. Man, did I hate being here.
“Let’s talk about natural disasters, shall we?”
John sounded way too cheerful to be talking about something so devastating but whatever.
“Natural disasters can be the result of our Lord’s wrath on sinners,” John continued, still smiling that plastic smile. “It’s each one of our jobs to be an example to others around us so that they may join us in salvation.”
I squirmed in my seat. Did people really believe this crap? I glanced around at the other kids, and some of them were nodding. Wow. I definitely wouldn’t want to believe in such a vengeful god.
John clapped his hands. “Now let’s discuss some ways that we can be that example. Let’s going around the circle, and everyone can mention something that your parents do that you wish to emulate. Cara, why don’t you start us off?”
Cara went to our school. She had super long hair, and her glasses made her look bug eyed. You would’ve thought she’d be the quiet type, but she never stopped talking, ever.
She beamed at us all. “Oh, there are so many things I want to emulate from my parents. I love how much my mom loves my dad. She’ll do anything and everything for him. She’ll even iron his underwear! She isn’t happy if he isn’t. Is there anything more touching than that? That they even feel the same emotions? I think that shows that it’s possible to care about others, that it’s possible to help others, to love them, to do whatever you can to help them. And then she—”
“Thank you, Cara. Garrett, you’re next.”
Garrett gave some kind of BS answer, and so did the next few kids, and I began to zone out. This was stupid and pointless.
“Wesley. Wesley. It’s your turn. Why don’t you share with the group what you would like to emulate from your parents.” John flashed me his stupid smile.
I smiled a plastic smile of my own back at him. “I’ve never had parents.”
Icy silence answered me. Some of the kids looked like they were sorry for me, which I hated. Didn’t want their pity. Didn’t want their compassion. I was doing just fine on my own. Didn’t need parents, and I didn’t need anyone else either.
April cleared her throat and broke the icy silence. “My mom is wonderful. She’s a peacemaker and…”
As the others droned on and the whole thing dragged on, it only served to further cement my desire to get April the fuck out of this place. While she might have the others fooled, I could tell. I could read her. She wasn’t just faking her smiles. She was hiding her pain. I did some mental math and combined that with the research I’d been doing lately. I knew how much money I had and the highway route to Oregon. I’d already saved up enough to get us at least a small place, and then we could get jobs. April could start college.
Throughout the rest of the talk and while we did our duty to help the less fortunate, I kept thinking and daydreaming and hoping and planning. By the time dinner rolled around, it was decided. Fuck everything else. I was taking her with me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
April
I hadn’t been sure what to think of as far as the youth mission trip was concerned. It wasn’t like this was the first one I had ever gone on, but it felt different this time. Not because Wes was with me. More because I had changed. I was different. I was not the same girl I had been a few months ago. Did I like the new me better than the old me? Did I like the new me at all?
Being surrounded by the church made it next to impossible to escape from the fact that when I returned home, Dad was probably going to marry me off to one of those horrible men. My only salvation was the distraction that Wes provided, and it made me start to think one thing that absolutely terrified me. I was beginning to wonder if I was in love with him. With Wes. With my step-brother.
***
The next day, we get to work in town. A lot of the damage had already been taken care of, but it was still horrible to see some of the displaced families and the ruined homes.
Wes and I set to work cleaning up a property around a half-repaired home, clearing it of debris and throwing away trash that washed up with the mud. The other kids had also broken up into groups, and although a fair amount of them were friends, they didn’t seem to notice that I was picking my step-brother over them.
Was that what was happening? That I was choosing him over friends, over family? It wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now. Just like every day since I learned about my mom’s accident, I had to live one day at a time, one moment at a time. I was so angry all the time, frustrated, bitter, and the only time those feelings faded away to the background was when I was with Wes. Something about him made me feel more alive, made me feel more in control. It didn’t matter who was in control in the bedroom. I still felt like I had power. I could see how a touch or a kiss could elicit a response from him, and it was empowering. Uplifting. It gave me tingles just thinking about it.
But it was more than that. Wes listened to me. Considering that
my father didn’t, that P and P tended to ignore me more than anything, that it took until Adam was drunk for him to even think of me romantically or sexually, it was refreshing. We could talk about anything and everything and be serious or teasing. I could be myself with him.
“This is gross,” Wes said as he dug around in the mud to unearth a crushed soda can.
“Not as gross as you,” I teased.
“You didn’t think I was gross last night.”
I blushed. Last night, I had swallowed his cum. No. That hadn’t been gross at all.
He glanced around and then chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t talk too much about it. I wouldn’t want anyone to think badly about you.”