I go into a small black space in my mind that he can't see. I lock all the doors, and all the windows, until it's just me screaming in the corner. I feel my eyes grow vacant as he keeps talking to me.
I go to that place I visit when I hurt too much, and I want something to take my mind off things. The place that makes me cut little lines into my thighs, that makes me hit my skin over and over again until it blooms big blue bruises. I try to fight it, try to stop it from happening, but it won't. My fingers go between my legs and I start scratching, picking at old scabs and peeling them off, making new ones. Anything to hurt myself.
I feel hands prying away my fingers and I fight, really hard. I feel someone picking me up and I fight that too, for a long time, until I realize what I'm doing has no effect. Then, I go limp.
I don't register anything else until a nice, pleasant feeling of water engulfs my skin. The scars that were itchy before are now soothed, calmed. I relax into the warm water and inhale the scent of it. Roses.
I feel hands all over me, but not in a way that makes me scared. Washing my hair, soaping my back. Running circles around my skin, making me feel safe and secure and okay, just okay. Not scared, and not needy, and not embarrassed. Just okay, beautifully, numbly okay.
I think I stay like that until the water gets colder, until my eyes finally find a focus again. I blink once, twice, three times, before I actually see what's going on.
Jacob's crouched in front of the tub, and I'm covered in water up to my neck. The water's rosy, and I don't know why. It smells nice.
"What..." I croak, and my voice is hoarse, and it hurts to speak.
"It's okay," Jacob tells me softly. He looks worried and sad. So sad. "You're fine now, baby. I... fucked up, Alice. I'm so fucking sorry."
I don't know what he's saying, but I just nod. "I'm sleepy," I tell him simply.
He nods back and a pair of strong arms lifts me out of the water. He doesn't seem to care I'm dripping wet all over him. He wraps me in an enormous fluffy towel and dries me off. There are red marks on the cotton when he finishes.
"Did I get hurt?" I ask him absently, and he nods, drying my hair.
"You did, doll. You did, and it's all my fault." I nod and realize I want nothing more but for him to hold me in his embrace. But I don't say it out loud, I don't think I can.
"Don't worry," he says roughly. "I won't touch you again. You don't have to be scared anymore."
I whimper at the thought and he pats me dry. I shake and shiver, naked in the middle of the ensuite bathroom that leads to my bedroom.
"Please," I manage to get out. "Don't."
He puts a robe on me and I slip my arms into the holes, appreciating the soft flannel on my marred skin. "Don't let me go," I beg him. "Don't do this. Don't punish me."
Jacob looks into my eyes, and his own are red-rimmed, scared. "I'm not," he tells me. "I'm punishing myself."
I feel better than before, but what he's saying makes me want to throw another temper tantrum. "No," I whisper. "Don't let me go, Jacob. I want to be yours."
"But I hurt you," he tells me softly. "I fucking caused you harm, Alice. There's no excuse for that."
I burrow into his chest and his arms shake. I can tell he wants to hold me, but he's fighting it. "I'm yours," I breathe into his chest. "And I won't let you let me go."
After what seems like hours, his hands finally go around me. They're shaking, and this time, I'm the one helping him stand. I feel him break, but in the next second, I feel him come together again, and he's more beautiful, more perfect than ever.
Twelve
Alice
After what happened in the basement, we're both nervous around each other. Jacob will barely look at me, and I'm desperate to make sure he knows I'm alright. Neither of those things seems to be helping, and I find myself more and more upset with each day that passes.
When he drops me off at school after the third day, without so much as kissing me, I storm out the car and slam the door behind me. I ignore him calling after me and walks towards my school with a purpose in my step.
"Hey, what's the rush?" a voice calls out after me, and I have to actually look over my shoulder to find a classmate looking at me to realize she's talking to me. I'm just so very used to being by myself, not being noticed by anyone, I can barely comprehend someone wanting my attention. "God, would you wait up? For someone so short you sure do walk fast."
I frown at the girl. We have some classes together but we've never really talked before. Her name's Tiffany, and she is the complete opposite of what her name would leave you to believe.
She's tall, much taller than me, pretty, but in an exquisite, exotic way. Her nose is too long and narrow to be perfect, and her mouth is too thin, but she would look almost aristocratic if it weren't for her pink hair and many piercings. She's beautiful though. I'm surprised she's so much as noticed me.
"What is it?" I ask her in a clipped tone.
"Chill," she laughs. "I'm not gonna fucking bite. You're friends with Trina, right?"
I stiffen at the mention of my former best friend's name. "What's this about?" I ask her roughly. I don't want to discuss Trina, or anything else, for that matter. I just want to be left alone so I can go back home to Jacob as soon as possible after my school day ends.
"She's fucking my boyfriend," Tiffany tells me, sighing dramatically. "Pretty sure of it, at least. Wanted to check if you knew any details."
I wince at her words. "I... I wouldn't know," I tell her lamely. "We're not really friends anymore."
"Well thank fucking God for that," Tiffany giggles, linking her arm through mine. I almost freeze on the spot given her niceness, but I manage to keep moving, even though I shoot her a doubtful look. Why the hell is she being nice to me?
We walk to school together and she talks non-stop, including telling me how 'fucking A I'd look with a pierced nipple'. I can't help but laugh at her openness, the way she doesn't seem to have a care in the world. It's refreshing for sure, and when she asks me what plans I have for lunch, I don't even doubt her sincerity. Maybe she's not trying to use me after all.
"You wanna meet me here five minutes after the bell?" she asks once we reach the entrance of the school, and I try not to nod eagerly. "Cool, chica. See you soon then!"
She turns to leave and I find myself wearing a smile on my face for the rest of the day. It's been ages since I've properly talked to someone at school. Mostly I get ignored and written off as the weirdo in the back row, and I don't usually mind it. But every once in a while, it feels damn good for someone as cool as Tiffany to notice me.
I'm excited for lunch period for the first time this whole school year. For the first time since September, I get to eat lunch with someone, and not spend it in a cubicle or a classroom like a complete loser.
I meet up with Tiffany like we agreed, along with a bunch of her friends, who are - almost impossibly - even more colorful than she is.
We go to a park behind the school and sit down on the grass. I fold my jacket under my butt and for once in the past few weeks, I'm not even thinking about Jacob. I'm enjoying my life as a high school senior. I look like an oddball with this bunch in my prissy clothes, but at least they all look like misfits, so it's not like one of us stands out like a sore thumb.
Soon, they start passing a cigarette around and I tense up as Tiffany chatters next to me. She passes it to me and I give her a strained smile before taking it clumsily between my fingers. I take a long drag on it and nearly choke.
"Jesus, girl," Tiffany laughs as she pats my back. "You can't take a hit for shit, can you?"
"What... what the hell was that?" I ask, tears rolling down my cheeks. Despite nearly choking on the fumes, I find myself giggling right along with the rest of them like it's the funniest thing in the world. "That was not a cigarette!"
Tiffany nearly cries from laughing so hard. "It's weed, girl. What the fuck kinda rock have you been living under?"
I pale a little, thinking abou
t Jacob and what he would say if he knew what I was doing. But in the end, a defiant expression takes over my face. He's been practically ignoring me for days now, he can deal with me taking a drag off a joint.
"You don't smoke?" Tiffany asks me curiously, passing the joint to the next girl in the circle.
"No, my mom used to," I tell her with a smile. "She stopped though."
"No weed?" Tiffany smiles, and I giggle back, shaking my head. "Shame, we're gonna have to teach you how to do it."
"Oh..." I want to tell her that's probably a bad idea, but I'm too shy to do it.
"So, Trina," Tiffany says, making a face. I stiffen right away and she seems to notice, as she gives me a curious look, then shakes her head. "Don't worry, I don't care what happened between you two. Clearly, you're the normal one out of the two. But she is fucking Liam."
"How do you know?" I ask her softly.
"Well, she sent him pics of her tits," Tiffany grimaces. "Not even nice ones."
"I'm... sorry," I blush, stifling a giggle.
"It's alright." She nudges my side. "What about you? You got a boyfriend?"
"I..." I have no idea what to tell her. I don't, do I? But at the same time, I don't want to tell her that there's no one in my life. I don't want to deny Jacob's importance in my life, and at the same time, I want Tiffany to think I'm... chill. "There is someone."
"Yeah?" she wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Tell me everything, girl!"
"He's older," I say softly.
"Like, college old?" she gasps, and I give her a guilty look. She nudges me again. "Damn, girl. Quiet water runs deep, I guess."
"Don't tell anyone," I rush to tell her. "I don't want anyone to know."
"Of course, chica," she winks at me. "Now let's get back to class."
My heart beats erratically for the rest of the day.
Jacob is as cold as ever that night, and the next morning is much of the same. He does make me blueberry pancakes though, and I dig into them with all the gusto in the world. He adds a healthy splash of maple syrup and I moan once the taste hits my tongue.
"Good?" he asks me, his voice a little strained.
"Good," I nod appreciatively.
We eat in silence and I keep sneaking looks at him. Finally, I can't stand the silence any longer - this has been going on long enough.
"Why are you being like this?" I ask him, barely able to hide the anger in my voice. "Ever since... we went down there, you've been avoiding me. You won't even look at me."
He still refuses to do it, focusing instead on the breakfast in front of him. "Let's not start the day with a fight, Alice," he tells me calmly, spearing a piece of pancake on his fork. "I don't have the energy, and we need to leave soon."
"Are you kidding?" I glare at him. "You're treating me like I'm nothing to you."
He finally sets his fork down and looks at me over his cup of coffee. "What would you like to be to me, then?" he asks me, and while the edge in his voice is still there, it seems to be a little softer, almost like his resolve is weakening. "Tell me, Alice, please."
I fidget with the hem of my blouse. "I don't know," I mutter. "I just don't want to be nobody. I don't want you ignoring me. I don't want us to pretend like nothing happened. Don't you..."
"Don't I what?" His intense glare is melting me in my seat. "Say it."
"Don't you... care about me?" I stop myself in my tracks and take the easy way out. But still, his answer will matter so much, and I focus my eyes on his as I wait for him to reply.
"I do," he tells me simply. "And I don't want to hurt you anymore, which is why I've kept my distance lately."
"But I don't want you to." I'm not realizing my voice is dangerously close to a whine. "I want us... I mean, I want you to acknowledge there is something between us."
"It can't happen," he shakes his head.
"Fine," I snarl. "I'll just tell my friend I'm no longer with anyone, then. I'll tell her I'm single."
My words are meant to hurt him, but he furrows his brows instead and looks at me crossly across the table. "Did you tell someone about us?" he asks me pointedly, and my blood freezes in my veins. Shit. He wasn't supposed to find out about that part.
"No," I mutter. "I mean, not about you. Just that I was seeing someone."
He just stares at me and for a moment I feel like he's going to smash his mug, he's holding the cup so tightly. "Do you know what could happen if anyone found out?" he asks me roughly. "I'd lose my job. I'd lose everything. I'd lose... you."
I stare at him, half-relieved he finally admitted I mean something to him, and half-petrified because he looks pissed as hell. "I'm sorry," I murmur lamely, and he merely gets up from the table and motions for me to follow him. We walk towards the car and he drives me back to school without giving me another look or another word. I can tell he's angry, and for the rest of the day in my classes, I'm anxious as hell, anticipating something bad that's about to happen.
Thirteen
Jacob
I walk towards her school with a wicked smile on my face. The principal greets me pleasantly and tells me where Alice is at the moment. I make up an emergency with her mother and once I get the classroom number, walk down the empty hallway towards it. Classes have just started and the hallways are deserted, though I assume anyone could get out if they got a bathroom pass.
I reach Alice's classroom and knock twice on the door. A second later, it flies open, and I come face-to-face with a thirty-something woman. Attractive enough, albeit a little too desperate looking for my liking. She devours me with one look, her eyes hungry as she drinks in my expensive suit, my slicked back hair, the tattoos showing under my sleeves.
"I'm here for Alice Leroux," I tell her.
"What is this about?" the teacher asks me in a hushed tone, all an excuse so she can move closer to me. I smell her, cheap perfume mixed with sweat.
Over her shoulder, I see the rowdy classroom. Alice sits in the back, alone at her desk. She's biting her bottom lip as she focuses on her book. If I know her at all, she's sneaked a novel under her textbook and is devouring one of her favorite books again.
"It's an emergency to do with Alice's mother," I tell the teacher, shaking her clammy, warm hand. "I'm Jacob Hawke, Miss Leroux's guardian."
Alice's eyes shoot up and connect with mine. She goes from scared to needy in a matter of seconds, and I grin to myself seeing her transformation.
"Madison Arnold. Oh, I do hope everything's alright," the teacher gushes. "We all love Miss Leroux here."
Because she donates tens of thousands to the school every year, I think to myself, but offer a strained, fake as fuck smile in response.
"I'll send Alice out," the teacher tells me, giving me her version of a seductive smile. "Just wait in the hallway, Mr. Hawke."
I nod curtly as she calls Alice forward. The whole classroom follows my girl as she walks outside and I can see those greedy fucking teenagers devouring her with their eyes. So fucking needy to catch a glimpse of her... Too bad they can never have her.
Alice comes out of the classroom and the teacher pats her shoulder before catching my eye. I refuse to acknowledge her, focusing instead on Alice, and she shuts the door behind my girl. We're left alone in the cold, empty hallway.
"Is my mom okay?" Alice asks, her bottom lip trembling. She's twisting her fingers in front of her little body. Today, she's wearing a pretty black skirt and a pink blouse. I made her switch from her usual tights to stockings, and she's wearing patent ballet flats for once, instead of her ridiculous heels.
"She's fine, Alice," I tell her. "I needed to see you, though. Come here."
I walk over to a bench in the hallway and she follows meekly behind. Once she's closer to me, her breathing gets labored, and her fingers tighten in the hem of her skirt.
"What do you want?" she asks me. I guess she remembers we're in the middle of a fucking fight because she sticks her chin out defiantly. "I have to get back to class.”
"You don't have to do
anything," I tell her. "Unless I tell you to do it."
She gives me an annoyed look. "Did you lie to my teacher?"
"What of it?" I ask her.
"You can't just do that."
"I can do any-fucking-thing I want, doll. Now come closer," I order her, and she hesitates for a second, but she can't fight it, this insane attraction between us. She walks over to me, and my fingers tangle in her mane of dark hair. I pull her head back and she gasps, her mouth staying open as she looks up at me.
"Did you tell anyone else about us, doll?" I ask her, and she shakes her head no. "Good girl. But you know what you did is gonna have consequences, right?"
She nods this time, and I pull on her hair tighter. Her eyes widen in fear and she scrambles to get away, but I won't fucking let her.
I bend her over and she moans out loud.
"Not here," she begs me. "Fuck, not here, please..."
"Right here," I breathe into her ear. "Right here in the hallway. Where anyone can walk in on us. That's what you get, doll. You wanted people to know, didn't you?"
I lift up her skirt and she gasps as the cool air hits the skin of her thighs. I slap her ass, hard, and she mewls like a little kitten.
"You wanted to brag about us," I groan in her ear. "So here you go, doll, anyone can see us now, they just have to walk outside of the classroom."
"Please!" her voice is desperate as I rip her panties off, discarding the fabric on the floor. She's fucking soaked, her cunt weeping for me.
"Please, what?" I ask her roughly, parting her ass and fumbling with my zipper.
"Fuck me," she begs after a moment's silence. "I can't take it, fuck me, Jacob, please..."
With a growl, I push my dick inside her dripping pussy. She tightens, clenches around my cock and I start fucking her so viciously I know she'll never forget it.
She's moaning loudly, too fucking loudly, yet the sound is the sweetest thing to my ears. I force myself to stuff three fingers in her mouth. "Suck them, doll. Good whores need something in their mouths when they're being fucked like this."
His Doll: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 8