Flirt: Bad Boy Romance

by Ashley Hall

  If I didn’t know any better, I would say that we were making love rather than just having sex. A couple of other times, I thought we might have been, but there was very little doubt this time around.

  Making love. Us. April and me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  April

  I couldn’t hold back any longer. When my orgasm hit me, I had to close my eyes, and I cried out Wes’s name. My arms wrapped around him tightly, and I relished the sense of security I felt while being in his embrace. It had felt a little different this time. More intense. More passionate. More bonding.

  More loving.

  For a long moment, I didn’t move. I just stayed in his arms, basking in the after glow, but when I noticed that Wes was staring at me intensely, I pulled back and giggled. “What are you thinking about?”

  He took a deep breath that caused me to rise up on his lap. He looked nervous.

  “I want you to run away with me,” he said, his voice low.

  I could not have been more surprised.

  “In your dreams.” I giggled.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “That’s crazy talk.” Wasn’t it? Running away? What about finishing high school? What about college? We couldn’t just up and leave.

  “It’s not that crazy,” he grumbled. “You hop on my bike. We ride away. Nothing else to it.”

  It was crazy. Wild. Reckless.

  And he was deadly serious.

  Part of me was ecstatic at the thought and the gesture. That he even wanted to run away with me meant so much, but I knew it was nothing but a fantasy. It wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

  He tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him, and I could see that he saw my doubt. “Don’t you want to go? To leave? Why would you want to stick around? Your father is reprehensible. He’s going to do everything he can to make your life your worst nightmare. You know this. Those guys he wants to serve you up to? Don’t forget that. Oh, and how about the way he is trying to force you to listen to him into going to an inferior school just because he knows people at the one who can spy on you.”

  I winced. Wes had a point, but spying? Dad wouldn’t go to that length, would he?

  Actually, he probably would.

  Wes started to rub my back. “I don’t want you to be resigned to an existence of being an obedient breeding machine to some scumbag. I want to save you, to take you way from all of this.”

  I frowned as frustration welled up inside of me. I hated that this was my life, but it was, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. If Wes couldn’t accept that, well, that would be on him.

  “I just can’t. I can’t run away with you.” It hurt me so much to say that, and I rushed to add, “I have my mom and Penelope. I can’t. I can’t leave them there.”

  Wes scowled. “You shouldn’t throw your life away for them.”

  My hurt temper flared at this, and I jerked away from him so that I could finally pull up my pajama pants, and I tugged down on my shirt too for good measure. Tears formed in my eyes, and I was angry. So angry. “Of course you wouldn’t understand. You can’t. You never had a family to care about, so how would you know what it’s like to leave your loved ones behind? You can’t because you’ve never had any.”

  There was a long moment of stony silence. Then Wes’s face hardened into the placid expression I only saw when I first met him. It was the face that hid everything and promised nothing.

  “You’re right,” he told me, his voice neutral. Then he got up, fixed his clothes, grabbed the blanket, and headed back down the mountain.

  I was still reeling from my indignation too much to feel badly about what I had said. I trailed after him back to my cabin. After breakfast and a last big group prayer session, we all boarded the bus again. This time, Wes sat with some other girl.

  I scoffed and sat elsewhere. I wasn’t hurt, I tried to tell myself.

  I was lying.

  Chapter Thirty

  Wes

  When we got back to town, a church friend drove us to the house. It was crowded in the car, between me and April and the boys, and the wedge between April and me just felt like it was growing larger and bigger.

  As soon as we got to the house, we all went inside, April first, followed by the boys, with me bringing up the rear, dragging my feet. Inside, the atmosphere was weird. No one even came to the door to greet us right away. No hellos or anything like that. We kind of just stood there a moment, and then Walter came over, Jacqueline too. Yvonne came last, holding the baby in her arms.

  “April, go to your room,” Walter said in his deep, commanding voice.

  Head down, without a word, she complied. Did she like following orders? Didn’t she realize that she was eighteen? She didn’t have to listen to him. She could do what she wanted.

  “Boys, you too,” Walter added.

  The boys scampered off, laughing and joking around. I envied their easy happiness.

  As soon as they all disappeared upstairs, I started to trail after them, but Jacqueline cleared her throat. Great. Now what? I really wasn’t in the mood to be shit on. Not the fucking second I came back to this hellhole.

  I slowly turned around to face them. “Yeah?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.

  Jacqueline crossed her arms. “What were you thinking?”

  I didn’t say anything. Thinking about what? What did she know?

  “It’s not safe. Not safe at all.” She shook her head several times.

  It was always safe. We always used a condom. Oh, yeah, she probably wasn’t talking about safe sex. So…what was she talking about, then?

  “We found the motorbike,” Walter said gruffly. He crossed his bulky arms too.

  Crap. Gotta think. Come on, Wes!

  “It was the cheapest thing I could get with the money I had,” I lied.

  “I spoke to Mickey,” Walter cut in, “and I know the truth.”

  What truth? That Jacqueline gave me the money?

  Cradling Penelope, Yvonne smiled, and my stomach churned. I really hated her.

  She glanced at Walter and moved to stand beside him, forcing Jacqueline to move aside. “I probably should’ve said this before, but now is as good of a time as any to tell you that I believe he actually pushed Roslyn. I don’t think she just fell. He was the one who found her, after all.”

  I was dumbstruck. My jaw fell, and I just gaped at her. What the fuck did I ever do to her to deserve such shitty treatment?

  April might be willing to be meek and mild and tolerate their shit, but fuck that. That wasn’t me. I was tired of biting my tongue, of trying to slip under the radar. I hated having a fucking bull’s eye on my back.

  “Who the hell are you to talk about anyone’s sins?” I fumed, lashing out with all of my venom. “Considering that you stole a child who isn’t yours.”

  Yvonne gaped at me. So did Walter. So did Jacquelyn. It was like cold water was poured on all of them.

  Yvonne marched up to my face, livid firmly etched in the lines on her face, and she smacked me as hard as she could. Penelope started to wail, and Yvonne gave Jacqueline a dark look before storming out.

  Walter recovered his facial expression. He blinked at me, but his face was otherwise blank. “I never should have let such evil into my home,” he ruminated very calmly. “I have made a mistake in letting the women in this family attempt to outweigh my own judgment.”

  Oh, great. Another speech. Just what I always wanted. Not. Didn’t the guy realize I didn’t give a crap what he thought about me? I wasn’t his son. He had no business trying to stick his nose into my personal business. Honestly, I didn’t see what the big deal was. Jacqueline gave me money to buy a car. So I bought a bike instead. Who cared? It wasn’t like I was a terror on the streets. I rode safely. Yeah, okay, so maybe Walter did kinda have a legit beef if he learned April had ridden on it a few times, but she was eighteen. She could make her own decisions. She trusted me to be safe with her.

  Actuall
y, I didn’t want to think about her right now.

  I fumed inside as Walter went on and on.

  “Your clothes are atrocious,” he said. “It matches your attitude. You sulk and keep to yourself. You aren’t social enough. Or, rather, you’re too social with your friends and not enough with your family. Don’t you realize how much it hurts your mother that you don’t talk to her? You act as if your opinion and your thoughts are the only ones that matter—”

  Seemed to me that he was getting me mixed up with himself.

  “—a terrible influence on the boys and April too. I’m just glad that Penelope is young enough that she can escape your sinful ways—”

  Wow, he was condemning me, and the thing was, he didn’t even know half of my sins. He didn’t know I had slept with Lizzy. Hell, he didn’t know I went to the party or that I drank there or that I did drugs there. And that wasn’t to mention everything I did with April.

  “—God is calling for you elsewhere—”

  Walter kept on going without showing any signs of stopping anytime soon. It was a wonder that the guy never lost his voice.

  I peeked at Jacqueline. She was mostly stone-faced, staring at me with a hint of revulsion, like she never saw me before. It was too much for me. The sheer insanity of everything finally sank in—this fucked-up family, the shit hitting the fan with April, my own stupidity for sticking around so long—and I could do nothing but laugh.

  Walter glared at me, and his right hand twitched like he wanted to punch me. Good. Go ahead. Give me a reason to fight back.

  But he didn’t hit me. He just gave me a queer little smile instead. “Wesley, you need to go to your room as we finish making preparations for you.”

  I turned around sharply and went up the stairs, not so much to obey him. More like I was done with that conversation. Lecture. Hadn’t been a conversation because I hadn’t talked back. Whatever.

  And preparations? What fucking preparations? I sure as hell didn’t plan on finding out.

  So I took matters into my own hands. I packed up the few belongings I had and made sure to take my stash of savings. For a moment, I felt a twinge, remembering why I’d been saving up in the first place, but I brushed it aside. Didn’t matter now. Walter thought I was selfish and only thought about myself. Well, maybe I should go back to that. Take care of number one. No one else ever bothered to take care of me. Not that I needed it. I didn’t know if I believed in God or not, but if he was real, maybe he gave me such a shitty childhood so that I could handle life on my own. I was so ready to blow this joint.

  I went back downstairs. This would be the last time I would ever see any of this again. The pretentious pictures on the wall. The hideous vase on the end table that I never noticed before. The huge, heavy curtains that seemed like a barrier between the inside of the house and the rest of the outside world.

  Good riddance.

  I was so blinded by my hatred that I didn’t see Jacqueline by the front door until she stopped me by grabbing my arm. I yanked myself free and stepped away from her. My rage finally boiled over, and I couldn’t stop myself. I blew up.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “Don’t even look at me. You’ve been the shittiest mother ever. You dumped me as a baby, and now you’re shitting on me.” It felt good to let out all of the pent-up resentment I carried around for years, and I was only just getting started. “Do you even know what you are?” I didn’t pause to give her a chance to respond, but I did notice that her face was whiter than new-fallen snow. “You’re a fucking wreck. You’re a desperate coward who only cares about herself. You would sooner watch all of the children in the house die than have Walter be disappointed in you and your lack of fertility. For the first time in my life, I am truly glad—truly fucking glad—that you abandoned me.”

  I was yelling, and it kinda surprised me that the only other audience member I had was Walter. His face was bright red, and he opened his mouth.

  Before he could say anything—because I sure as fucking Hell didn’t want to ever hear his voice again, not one more fucking word—I spat at his feet. “I look forward to seeing your cowardly fucking ass in hell.”

  Neither of them had a chance to react—I didn’t give them any time to. I threw open the door, ran to my bike, climbed on, and drove off so fast I could barely remember leaving.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  April

  The front door slammed shut, and I jolted. I had been able to faintly hear voices through my closed door, but I hadn’t been able to tell who was talking or what they were saying. Maybe I should go find out.

  Maybe it had something to do with Wes.

  Or maybe not. Maybe P and P had gotten into trouble. Usually, they were better behaved after a youth mission trip, for a few weeks or so before falling back into their old ways. Honestly, they were good kids, even if they weren’t as good as Dad would like them to be.

  And Wes? He definitely wasn’t a good kid. Wasn’t good. Wasn’t a kid.

  But that wasn’t what I truly thought. That was what Dad thought of him. I had my own mind. I knew Wes a hell of a lot better than my dad did. Did I really think that Wes was such a bad guy? Sure, his childhood had been terrible—no one could deny that—but when was that no longer an excuse for his actions? At some point, he was going to have to stop blaming everyone else for who he was and own up to everything.

  Maybe the fighting had nothing to do with the boys. It was rare, but Dad sometimes argued with one of his wives, and it could get a little heated at times. They usually tried to keep their spats away from us kids, but I knew more than the younger ones did. I understood more. And given my fight with Wes, right now I understood more than ever.

  Too curious now to ignore the voices and the slammed front door, I dropped my pen on my textbook. I hadn’t been able to concentrate on my homework anyhow.

  I went downstairs. Jacqueline and my dad were standing by the front door. They turned to look at me as I approached them. I couldn’t quite make out what had happened, but Jacqueline looked so pale, like she might fall over. Dad looked contemptuous. I never saw him look that way before.

  Actually, a few times I had, and it had only ever been directed toward one person—Wes. Where was he?

  I cleared my throat, the sound loud and echoing in the hallway. “What happened?” I cautiously asked, half expecting them to ignore me or to tell me that I shouldn’t worry about things or that if I needed to know, they would tell me.

  My dad stared at me, his face turning blank for a moment before he smiled. “I was just restoring order to my home,” he calmly explained, “which should be righted now that the evil is gone.”

  Evil? Gone? What was he talking about? I felt confused, but I also felt dread consume me too. Deep down, I knew that the worst is about to come.

  I cleared my throat again. My mouth felt so dry. “Where is Wes?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  Dad shrugged, and my heart sank. “He ran after Yvonne confronted him about pushing Roslyn down the stairs.”

  I gasped. How could Yvonne have said such a thing? It was such an obvious lie. Mom hurt herself to save me in case Dad had planned on marrying me off before we came home from the ball. She had done it as a sacrifice. To say that Wes did it, on purpose, with malicious intent…Yvonne was the evil, not Wes.

  “That’s not true,” I said hotly, even though I knew that defending Wes right now was not in my best interest. I just couldn’t keep quiet. Not anymore. “Wes…ley would never do anything to hurt my mom.”

  “He had plenty of hurtful things to say about his own mother. Why would he care about yours?” My dad’s expression turned terrifying, and I took a step back. “You have evidently been defiled by his sin. Why did you tell him about Penelope?”

  Now that was an assumption on his part. No way had my mom told him that she had told me.

  So I blinked a few times and tried to act confused. “Tell him about Penelope? Tell him what about Penelope? I don’t know what you’re talking ab
out,” I lied.

  His eyebrows lowered, his eyes narrowing even more. Dad took a step toward me, and even though I wanted to retreat, I didn’t. I held my ground.

  “I don’t know how he found out,” I added.

  “I am disappointed in you, April. I never would have thought you would be the kind of girl to defend someone the likes of Wesley. A sinner. A bad boy. A terrible influence. Such a bad influence that he’s even making you make bad decisions.”