The Dark Knight [Part One]

by L. F. Piper

  I'm watching all the streets fly by, leaving them behind in a cloud of dust, courtesy of Caleb's speeding Camaro. We reach a row of stores in a built up area and Caleb turns the engine off, twisting his body so he is facing us squished in the back seat. “We're going in to get the liquor for tonight,” he pins me with his dark eyes, again. “Do not get out of this car in those fucking panties.” His eyes trail down my legs lazily.

  He makes me squirm and I hate it. “Sure, Boss,” I say sarcastically, and he grunts before getting out and slamming his door closed.

  We’ve been sat here for twenty minutes and we're both starting to pant like caged dogs. Kaydee’s face is glistening each time the sun lands on her and I’m sure I have sweat patches under my armpits. Caleb rolled the windows up before he left so there's no air inside this death trap. We’re going to die, and Caleb isn’t even driving. “Fuck this. I can't breathe in here.” I push the passenger seat forward and lean over to unlatch the door and peel myself away from the sticky leather seat, leaving my thighs with a light sheen of sweat covering them. I stretch my cramped muscles, lean against the back of the car and light up a cigarette. Kaydee appears next to me as soon as I take my first puff. I slide on my Ray Bans and close my eyes.

  “Emilia, could I, uh. Could I try some?” Kaydee nods towards my burning cigarette and then looks at me.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure, if you want to,” I tell her, while handing it over. She’s never asked about it before, never even given the impression that she might want to.

  She coughs and splutters some after the first few pulls, but the next one makes her smile. “That feels really good, I can feel it in my chest, deep, burning. I think I might like it,” her eyes twinkle as she looks back at me. I nod and tell her she can finish that one, sparking up a new one for myself.

  “What do you think about tonight?” I ask her some time later.

  She drops her butt to the tarmac and drags her foot over it, extinguishing the ember. “I'm sure it will be fun. I've never been to a party before so at least that will be one experience my mom can't take away from me.” I see what she's saying, but I don't think it will be much fun at all.

  After a few minutes, I hear wolf whistles and turn my head towards the noise. There are four guys stood across the street staring directly at us. They just look like average high school kids, but the one at the front looks kind of cute from where I'm standing. I toss my cigarette end, nudge Kaydee and we walk over to them. Caleb and Ellis are nowhere to be seen so they're obviously still shopping, taking longer than a woman choosing an outfit.

  “What's up, beautiful?” The hot one at the front, that I had my eye on, asks.

  “Hey, I recognise you. You go to Richmond High? I think we're in the same lab class.” He looks familiar but I’m not certain. I obviously haven't had much time to make friends or hang out with anyone, since Caleb rules my life.

  “Yeah, I'm Lance Hanslow. I've seen you around, but never had the chance to speak to you. I'm always running late for something, yesterday it was football practice. I'm the team captain.” He flexes his biceps with a smile, which I'm guessing makes all the girls fall at his feet, begging for mercy, and I do my utmost to hide my cringe. He thinks that’s going to win me over? He looks pretty, but I'm going to be judgemental bitch and guess there isn't much going on upstairs.

  We stand there talking for a while and swap numbers when Lance asks if he can take me out to dinner soon. I, of course, nearly throw myself at him and tell him he can take me out right now, but I play it somewhat cool. I have my first date!

  We've been flirting, and it's been fun. I haven't exactly had any butterflies, like the first time I saw Caleb, but it's been nice to be appreciated by a guy for a change. I'm not expecting this to go anywhere, but if it’s time I get away from Caleb, I'm happy with that. Lance is about to lean down to give me a goodbye kiss on the cheek when we all freeze. “Touch her and you'll regret it, Hands-low.” Caleb is back, and I can tell he is angry from the grit in his voice, but I don't dare look at him to find out exactly what level of angry he's rocking right now. Also, Hands-low? I thought it was pronounced differently. Did I hear Lance wrong?

  Lance looks up and I see him visibly shudder, but the fool doesn't back down. “Why? She's not your girlfriend. She told me she's single.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him. It’s refreshing to know Lance has a backbone – or a screw loose – but Caleb isn't the person he should be using it on.

  I called it; he’s just a pretty face.

  I risk peeking up, glancing through my lashes, and Caleb is super-duper angry. His fists are clenching, his jaw so tight he might literally shatter his teeth and I can see the veins pumping in his arms from here. I release myself from Lance's grip and take a few steps towards Caleb. “Please, can we just go? I'm sorry I left the car. Come on.” I plead with him using my words and my eyes. I've never seen him look like this and if he's going to start kicking off and causing a scene, I would rather he did it back at his place and not in the middle of the street. Caleb seems to be listening to me, his eyes focused on mine. It's like I'm trying to control a wild animal. Ellis is being his usual jerk off self, dragging Kaydee back to the car and leaving me to deal with Caleb on my own.

  I move my eyes away from Caleb's and spin slightly to say goodbye to Lance, but I catch him looking at my butt and licking his bottom lip. Maybe Caleb was right, these shorts are far too short to be worn in public.

  I realise I'm not the only one who notices where Lance's eyes are when Caleb roars and pushes me to the side before he lunges at him. I pick myself up from the unforgiving gravel, my palm on my forehead, and look down at my grazed knee. It stings, and my head is grazed a little, but it's nothing to worry about compared to Lance.

  I scream Caleb's name a couple of times, even throw a few rocks that just bounce of his back, trying to gain his attention. I finally get it and he drops Lance from the hold he had on him and comes over to me, gently lifting his bloody hand to my face. He's being kind, seeing if I'm alright, even though he did this to me. It's unnerving. He checks me over fully and then drags me back to the car by my wrist like a naughty child. I watch Lance getting to his feet, looking none too happy about the mess Caleb made of his face. I can tell from Caleb's eyebrow and Lance's knuckles that he took a few hits too. I don’t think I’ll be going on that date anymore, not unless I want to be held responsible for Lance’s untimely death.

  I'm not looking forward to the party tonight, but I'm dreading what will happen before that when Caleb gets me back to his. My ass is going to get handed to me, no doubt about it. I just want to go home.

  ***

  Caleb looks like he might murder me with his bare hands, as I predicted. He told Ellis to take Kaydee and his car and not come back until he calls him. Ellis, being the good little sheep that he is, followed his master’s orders and sped off in the Camaro.

  We've been inside Caleb's apartment for twenty minutes and he hasn't said a word to me yet. He's said words, just not directed them at me. A few 'fucks' and 'cunts' have been tossed around, but not enough to string an actual sentence together. He’s thrown furniture over, punched the walls and slammed doors while I've been quietly perched on the edge of the sofa, waiting for him to calm down. I really don't know what his problem is, but even I know when I shouldn't get involved. I don't want to be dismembered all because he can’t control himself.

  “Why couldn't you just do as I asked for once? None of this would've happened if you’d just stayed in the fucking car!” Well, at least he is actually directing something to me, although I'm not sure if I should answer.

  “I don't really know why this is my fault. All I did was get some air because you shut the windows. You really need to chill out, Caleb. There is no need for you to be acting like this.” That was either brave of me or stupid.

  “I wouldn't have acted this way if you hadn't left the damn car in that fucking stripper outfit!” I think it's safe to say that Caleb is most definitel
y not chilled. There's not much left in here that he can smash up, which only leaves me.

  He's pacing on the carpet in his bulky combat boots, wearing it thin and pulling at his hair. “Caleb, I…”

  “I'm trying really hard not to hurt you right now. Don't say anything else.”

  I shuffle my feet and knot my fingers. “On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to hurt me right now?” He shoots daggers at me with his eyes, jaw dangerously tense, and my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the sight of him.

  A strong eleven then!

  I scurry down the hallway and slam the door to the spare bedroom once I’m safely inside, slowly sliding down the panel to land on my butt. I’m gnawing on my lip like a bloody animal.

  I’ve never been more fucked in life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Caleb

  I think I might have drunk so much that there’s a high possibility I’m dead right now

  “A strong eleven then!” I don’t think she meant to say that out loud, but I caught it being whispered under her breath, amazed I can hear anything over the whooshing of blood gushing inside my skull. She thinks so little of me. I swipe everything off the counter next to me and grit my teeth.

  “I’m a strong fucking twenty, Doll!”

  ***

  I don't know what to do. My head is all over the place. I want her near me again, because for some fucked up reason earlier, she managed to calm me down. I was ready to leave with her when I saw that fucking cunt, Hands-low – the kid has been caught too many times to count with his hands low, either inside his pants or a chick’s panties and he acquired the nickname around school. He was dragging his beady eyes all over her fine ass hanging out of those mother fucking shorts, and I completely lost it.

  I felt something like regret afterwards when I saw the graze on Emilia’s forehead and knee from where I shoved past her and she fell to the ground. I never feel regret, especially not for hurting someone.

  What is wrong with me? I want to be around her, but at the same time I can't even look at her face without wanting to hit something.

  ***

  All the therapists I've been forced to speak to over the years have told me the same thing; I take my anger out on women because that's what I was taught from a young age.

  My version of 'love' is to hurt them. What does that even mean? Am I in love with Emilia and that's why I push her around? Fuck that. I don't love anyone. I was told that I would 'grow out of it' as I got older, I just needed to be around the right people. They have no idea how much harder it's become to control myself, though. They always asked me stupid questions like, 'what do you feel afterwards?' Nothing. My answer every single damn time was, 'I feel nothing'. What crazy ass bullshit is that? I must have some serious issues. I remember putting kids in hospital for not lending me a pencil in class, the smallest things causing me to flip out all the damn time. Clearly that’s still a problem.

  There's just something about Emilia. She's the first female I've thought of being beautiful, the first I've wanted to keep around after I’ve come. She’s certainly the first I’ve ever thought could have the potential to take me to my knees. Does that mean she is changing me? She's making me feel different; I still feel like I want to hurt her, but I'm trying hard to stop myself. That's a good thing, right?

  Screw this.

  Time to get this party started. I need liquor and I fucking needed it like, yesterday. I grab the first bottle my hand lands on – whisky – and leave Emilia wherever she is and the mess I made in the lounge.

  Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I fall onto my king-sized bed, unscrew the bottlecap and start downing the amber liquid in too big gulps. It burns my throat as it passes through and leaves a raging fire burning in the pit of my stomach where it ultimately lands. My thoughts go back to Emilia, as much as I try to stop them. Maybe I should voluntarily sign up for some counselling or just put the white fucking coat on myself? Then the craziest thought comes to me. Maybe I should just talk to Emilia? Explain why I am the way I am? She might understand me? Will she fuck. She's a sixteen-year-old girl that isn't qualified to deal with my level of crazy. Maybe I should just tell her to fuck off and forget about her? Nope, I don't think I can do that either. I'm getting so frustrated with myself that I drink more whisky, trying to drown out my inner voice.

  ***

  Has it been ten minutes? Half an hour? Longer? I don’t know, but I do know I’m down half a bottle of whisky. I drag my wasted body from my bed and stumble out from the safety of my bedroom to head back into the lounge. I don't even know why, I have everything I need in my room. Apart from Emilia, a voice I don’t recognise says in my mind. I shake my head hard to wipe out the unfamiliar sounds, causing me to spin and nearly trip over my boots. I've had far too much to drink on an empty stomach, but it's already seven and people will be arriving for the party soon.

  When I’ve bounced off every inch of the hallway walls and reached the main room, I can't see Emilia anywhere. Fuck. There's no way in hell I'll be able to drive to bring her back if she fucked off after my performance earlier. I feel this caving pain in my chest at the thought of her leaving, but I put down to heartburn instead. What? This damn whisky is some strong shit.

  I hear a light and feminine humming sound, and I think I might have drunk so much that there’s a high possibility I’m dead right now.

  What is happening?

  I follow the angelic noise and find Emilia in my shower. She’s humming the lyrics to Papa Roach – Bleeding Through. Fuck, it’s like she’s speaking to me and she doesn’t even know it. I stumble into the door and it crashes against the wall. She looks so beautiful, standing there naked, covered in suds, my soap bottle in her hand.

  At the sound of the door practically coming off its hinges, she near enough jumps out of her flawless skin and drops the body wash. “Jesus, Caleb. You scared the crap out of me. Can you get out please?” She's messed up if she thinks I can leave now I've seen her like this. She's wrapped her arms tightly around herself to cover what she can of her stunning body, but I already know what's underneath. I dream about it every God damn night.

  I start to take my clothes off, so I can join her, but it's a lot harder than I initially thought. All the liquor has made my arms feel like Jell-O and my legs too heavy. Emilia is just standing there watching me, shock playing on her face. I'm not sure if it's still there from when I crashed through the door or if it's because she’s witnessing a grown man look like a toddler trying to take his clothes off. Either way, it doesn't matter because I'm pressed up against her warm, wet body now.

  “Caleb, what are you doing?” She whispers. I pull a few wet strands of her hair away from her face, so I can look at the real her, not the four fuzzy visions floating behind her. She swipes the hair that has fallen into my eyes off my forehead and cups my rough jaw. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” She has every right to be confused, I've never been gentle with her before. I don't bother to answer her, only grabbing her face between my huge hands and running my mouth across hers, biting her lip until she grants me access.

  I twirl my tongue over hers, slow and firm, feeling the smooth barbell run against it. I kiss her deeply until she purrs and then feather my rough fingertips over her nipple, passing her sparkly belly ring, until I get to her bare pussy. I finger fuck her slow until she's crying out my name. She's always so wet and ready for me, it makes me harder than I've ever been before.

  I'm seconds away from fucking her, in my drunken state without a damn condom on, but I hear a ruckus outside my apartment. People are shouting and banging on my front door. I guess the party has started so I should probably let them in.

  Thankfully, I can ditch Emilia in the shower with a quick sloppy kiss, and without impregnating her, luckily for all human kind.

  I open the front door with a towel tucked around my waist, water dripping down my face and chest, with a massive hard on that’s barely being contained by the flimsy fabric. I don't even bot
her talking to anyone, most of them have been to my place before so they know how it is. Before I even move away from the doorway, I hear music blasting from the speakers in the lounge, Start Trouble – Let’s Get Fucked Up filling my apartment within seconds. I text Ellis and tell him the party has started while I pour a double shot in the kitchen with my free hand. He told me all about last night with Kaydee and how he's got it bad for the girl.

  I think I know how he feels.

  Whilst I'm pulling my pants on in my bedroom, I realise that I just got Emilia off without anything in return and I’ve never done that before. If I make you come, you make me come. Give and take, it's always been that way. Unless I feel like just taking that particular day.

  Shit, I need to get myself out of this funk and drink some more. There's no way I can let her know how much she's messing with my head. She needs to see that I'm still the cunt who fucked her against a wall for her first time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Emilia

  It turns out alcohol ruins lives

  I heard Caleb scream that he was a twenty earlier on and thought that was it, I was for sure a goner when he came crashing into the bathroom. He was odd, though. I knew he was well passed drunk from his bloodshot eyes and sluggish movements, but he seemed sort of nice towards me. Especially when he joined me under the shower.

  He scared the life out of me when he barged in, but my heartbeat soon slowed down when I was watching him try to take his clothes off in a drunken stupor. It was comical and very satisfying.

  I turn the water off, wrap myself up tight in a large fluffy towel and dart into Caleb's bedroom, hopefully not being seen by any of his guests. I ended up taking my shower a lot later than I'd planned because I was too busy trying to right all the furniture that Caleb had turned over in his earlier rage.