Play Me

by Alla Kar

Shit. What if they are coming here? Would they kill me? Kill us? We can’t prove it to the cops. “I can’t let anything happen to Roxanne or Maddox. I just can’t.”

  Dom places his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, Wes. Like I said, we don’t know for sure. Don’t worry yourself sick about it. It’ll only make it worse.” He guides me toward my truck and opens the door for me. “Just go pick up that sexy ass girl of yours, and I’ll meet you at the party.”

  I slowly nod. Dom waits until I’m half-way down the farmer’s road to move from his spot. I watch him grow smaller and smaller. A gut feeling is gnawing at me. And I’m starting to take Ryan more seriously.

  ***

  An older lady answers the door when I knock. “You must be Weston?” she asks.

  I glance inside to make sure I’ve got the right apartment. She’s carrying Maddox’s backpack and then Maddox jumps out from behind her. “That is Weston!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, offering her my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She smiles and looks down at Maddox. “Why don’t you go ahead and get in the truck. I’ll be just a second.”

  Maddox runs to my legs and wraps his arms around them. “Good game today, Weston,” he says and then looks up at me. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, bud. Now go get in the truck.”

  The older lady is squinting at me when I turn back around. “I’m Erica’s mother, Mrs. Martha.”

  I smile. Where is Roxy? “I know your daughter.”

  She nods and wraps her coat tighter around her. “Yes, I know. You were all she talked about her freshman year.” She winks. “I see what the fuss is about.”

  Erica? She must have not talked to her in the last few days. I don’t think she’d talk the same way about me now. “Thank you.” I swear to God I better not be blushing.

  “Before I go,” she taps her lips. “I want you to promise me you’re not going to hurt that girl in there.”

  “Of course not.”

  She shakes her head. “No, now, I really mean it. I don’t think I can see that darkness come back over her life. Whether she wanted to see it or not she was lonely before she found you. I see a brightness I haven’t seen since I meet her two years ago.” She reaches for the door and stops before she shuts it. “And don’t forget about that little boy in that truck outside. He loves you.”

  I take a step forward. “And I love him.”

  “Good.”

  ***

  Roxy leans her head back against my shoulder and sways her hips to the beat. The music is vibrating the walls around us but everything between us is still. I trail my hands over the curves of her body. She feels amazing. A low hum vibrates under my hand as I cup her breast.

  She giggles. Turning her to face me, I grab both of her wrists and hold them captive behind her back. Her tits brush against my chest. She lifts an eyebrow at me.

  “You want to go somewhere with me?” I whisper.

  She cranes her head more to the right allowing me access to her neck. I breathe in her scent and nip at her skin. “Yes,” she mumbles.

  She sucks in hardly when I pull her arms tighter. The stillness I’ve had while holding her fades away and everything slowly comes back down to reality. The alcohol. Music. Drugs. But it still doesn’t matter. We push our way out of the house and toward my pickup.

  The back of Roxy’s dress slides up as she leans out of the passenger side window. “What are you doin’?” I ask, my eyes jerking back and forth between the road and her ass.

  “The wind feels so good,” she whispers.

  I laugh. “You’re a little tipsy, come here.” I grab her waist and drag her back inside.

  She smiles widely and leans her head against the headrest. We ride in silence down the dirt road until I see my turn. “Where are we going?”

  I tap my fingers against the wheel. “Do you not trust me?”

  She screws her mouth up. “Maybe. Depends on where you’re taking me.”

  The broken fence to the side is my cue, so I turn one last time and drive into an open field. “I don’t think that’s how trust works.”

  She sits up in her seat. “Where the hell are we, Wes?”

  There isn’t much to see but pastures and an old barn. I put my truck in park and kill the engine. “I want you to come stay with me tonight. No worries. No Ryan. No life. Just us.”

  All the worry leaves her face and she takes my hand. “Show me the way.”

  The treehouse is still there. Johnny and I spent everyday building this thing for three months. There wasn’t very much else to do as twelve-year-old boys in Magnolia. Roxy squeezes my hand as I lift her up through the floor and into the tree house.

  “What is this place?”

  I pull out the candles, portable light and sleeping bags. Once I get the candles lit and everything on I stand back. Football posters. A pair of five pounds weights and an old box TV. That’s it. Johnny’s dad helped us cut out the windows in the wood and would check on us thirty times a day. That beats the zero times my father checked on me.

  “My old treehouse,” I whisper into the air.

  Roxanne smiles and laces her fingers through mine. “I can imagine the things you’ve done up here.”

  Laughing, I unzip our sleeping bags and make us a bed. “I don’t think you want to know.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re right, I don’t. So,” she lays down and rests her head on one of the pillows I brought. “What made you want to bring me out here?”

  Bending down, I hover over her, nipping and biting my way up her arm to her neck. “I’ve missed this place. I haven’t been back in about five years. I wanted to share it with you,” I whisper.

  Her arms wrap around my neck as I settle myself between her legs. “Do you think someone is watching us?”

  I trace the pad of my thumb over the frown of her mouth. The truth is I have no idea if someone is watching us. I wouldn’t be surprised. “No.”

  She smiles but I know she knows. We both know. How could she not? “You don’t think this could be the calm before the storm?”

  I know it could. “No,” I lie again.

  A long, comfortable silence settles over us. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know?”

  Ah, shit. “Most of my business has been sprinkled across the school for the past four years. I’m sure you know it.”

  She shakes her head and leans against me. “Something I don’t know about you. Whatever you want.”

  I gently run my fingernail against the small of her back. “I haven’t talked to my dad in two years.”

  She stills in my arms and finally lifts up to look at me. Her small finger runs over my lips and then to my jaw. “Do you miss him? What happened to make y’all so distant?”

  I give her a one shoulder shrug and she lies back down on my shoulder. “We were never close. Even my mom. I was an only child so I made tons of friends in school and—I thrived for attention. If my parents wouldn’t give it to me then I would get it somewhere else. Mostly girls. After Dad told me I was going to go into the family business after I graduated—I went crazy. I couldn’t stay here after I graduated college. I wanted out. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “But—do you miss him?”

  I bite my tongue and begin to shake my head. “After everything—everything—I still wish we could be normal. Like a normal family.”

  She nods into my chest and squeezes me tighter. “I know exactly what you mean,” she whispers.

  We listen to the crickets for a long time, and I bundle us up underneath the covers as the wind begins to chill. “Do you like Maddox?”

  What? I grip her chin and force her to look at me. Those green eyes are wide and tears are coating them. “Baby—,” I groan, covering her with me. “I love Maddox, Roxanne. Why would you even ask me that?”

  A tear slips down her cheek. “Because being with me is being with Maddox. It scares a lot of guys off. I don’t want Maddox to lose another male figure.
I don’t want him to think that’s how it’s supposed to be because it’s not. I want him to feel loved and not ever cry over it again. I want him to know how to treat a woman.”

  I smooth the worry line out of her forehead with my thumb and kiss the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Roxanne. I don’t know what the future holds. Hell—I don’t know what tomorrow holds for us, but I can promise that I will never let Maddox down. I will always be there for him because I know firsthand how it feels to be without a father. And I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  Biting her lip, she begins to nod and wipe the tears from her eyes. Grabbing the back of her neck, I lift her head to mine and slip my tongue inside of her mouth. Tasting her. Wanting her. Feeling her. She begins to pull on my shirt and move her hips against mine.

  Sliding my teeth against her throat, I whisper, “Now, come here, and I’ll show you how much you mean to me.”

  Without hesitation, she slips my shirt over my head.

  ***

  The sun shining down through the treehouse window warms my legs that are tangled in the covers laying over us.

  Roxanne is lying on her stomach. Her soft skin is warm beneath my fingertips. My dying cellphone says it’s only six in the morning. Standing up, I slip on a shirt and into some sweats. The woods look so familiar in the daylight. The same path I would take from my house here is overgrown with weeds and small trees.

  I take a leak beside the base of the tree and listen to the birds sing. Then I hear the tractor. A loud cranking noise that I heard every morning for eighteen years. My body urges me toward the noise but my logical mind isn’t budging. What if I see him? What would I say?

  Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I start walking. My legs feel like Jell-O as I push through the weeds and stop in the middle of my parent’s field. The faded red barn I caught a glimpse of last night is standing in front of me.

  Old faded paint and the roof is caving in. Dad stopped using it after my grandfather died. The loud crank of the tractor draws me back and I make my way around the barn. My parent’s house sits a football width away from me. Dad’s tractor is mid-way.

  The same farmer’s hat is sitting crooked on top of his balding head. He doesn’t notice me at first. Not until Duke, our old German Shepard, spots me. Those dark eyes shoot up and then he’s sprinting toward me.

  Helplessly, I drop to my knees and hold him as he licks and barks in my face. Tears burn down my face. Then the tractor stops. Dad doesn’t move from his spot next to his tractor. He just watches. Both hands are shoved down into his jeans. I don’t need him to lift his head to see his face. I know him. I would watch him out of the window for hours each night as he worked. Praying he would come inside and acknowledge me.

  Standing up, we stare at each other. Not moving. Just looking.

  “Weston?”

  I swirl around at Roxy. She’s standing beside the barn, my shirt from yesterday hangs down to her mid-thigh. Her right foot turned in slightly as she bites her lip.

  “Good mornin’,” I say.

  She doesn’t answer. Her gaze flickers to my dad who is now starting the tractor back. He whistles—without looking back—and Duke hauls butt to his side.

  The sun begins to rise over the hill in front of Dad but I don’t stay to watch it. I turn and walk past Roxy toward the tree house.

  When I get back to the tree house, I help lift Roxy up. Her eyes are worried as she stands watching me shove things into my bag. “Who was that? What’s wrong?”

  I don’t even want to tell her. What kind of father wouldn’t even say hello to their child? He didn’t even budge. Just watched.

  I won’t cry in front of her. No, I won’t. For me to pretend things could get better one day was stupid. It will never be better because neither one of my parents want me. They don’t care.

  “Talk to me.”

  He just doesn’t fucking care. Every emotion built inside of me is banging to be let out. Clawing at my insides. A sob fills my throat as I toss the portal lamp against the treehouse floor and I scream.

  Roxy fumbles toward me, her arms wrapping around my waist and she pulls me into her lap. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “It’s okay.”

  I don’t know how long I sit and cry, like a fucking baby. I hate myself for it. I’m supposed to be her shoulder to cry on not that other way around. She strokes my hair and hums underneath her breath.

  I stare up in her eyes and I know that I’m safe. Even if someone is after us. I know this is where I’m supposed to be. “My dad,” I choke out, my voice hoarse from crying.

  She furrows her brow. “What?”

  “The guy we saw. It was my dad.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Roxy

  His dad.

  His fucking dad. I thought the man was a stranger. Staring at Weston like he was a trespasser on his land. That’s not the look I would expect a father to give his son. Ever.

  Erica waves her hand in front of my face and tries to stick a French fry in my mouth. “Earth to Roxanne.”

  I slap the fry away and sigh. “I’m back.”

  She frowns. “Are you still thinking about Ryan? I mean—it’s been three weeks and no word. I think the police scared him off.”

  Doubtful. Even though it should be on my mind it isn’t. All I can think about is the tears streaming down Weston’s face. He opened up to me and bared his heart like no one ever has. How dare his father make him feel that helpless and little! The fact that I haven’t talked to my parents hasn’t bothered me. They threw out their pregnant teenage daughter. How am I supposed to let them around my child? Or try to patch up that relationship? I went to sleep every night for a long time praying my parents would take me back but they never even looked in my direction again. But I’ve come to terms with it. Weston hasn’t.

  “Erica, can you go somewhere with me really quick?”

  Erica doesn’t ask where we’re going, she just drives. I don’t know the exact road but I get us a road over and direct her onto a long dirt driveway.

  My entire body is shaking when Erica parks. She lifts a brow. “Can I ask you whose house this is or is it a secret?”

  I sigh and run my fingers over my face. “It’s Weston’s parent’s house.”

  Her mouth makes a perfect O. “Are you going to meet them—alone? Why isn’t he here?”

  “He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  She smirks. “That desperate to meet them?”

  “No, it’s not like that. This won’t take long. Wait for me here.” I open the door and walk the dirt driveway toward their large farmhouse.

  Their wraparound porch is full of wicker furniture and a porch swing. Flowers overflow their pots. The same dog from yesterday pops his head up and he begins to growl right beside the front door.

  “What is it Duke?” someone coos and then the front screen door opens.

  His Dad walks out and stops a few feet away from the door. “You look different with clothes on.”

  My mouth pops open. What a fucking dirtbag! He narrows his eyes and I see it. The familiar face. There is no denying this is Weston’s father. I hate to say he got his good looks from him but it looks like it. Deep, brown eyes that you could drown in. Dirty blonde hair.

  “You son of a bitch,” I snap. His eyes grow wide but I don’t give him a chance to say anything. “Do you even realize the pain you put on Weston? He cried—fucking cried—in my goddamn arms this morning because his dad is the biggest fucking asshole to walk the planet. No reason. At least my parents had a reason—a fucked up one—but it’s something. You just ignore him. Act like he isn’t your son just because he doesn’t want to be bull breeder? I wouldn’t want to be that either! You need to man-up to your responsibilities and treat him like the son he deserves to be treated like.”

  I take a long breath and stare at him for a few minutes. He hasn’t moved, just leaned down to scratch his dog’s head.

  So, I leave.

  ***

  Maddox
is sitting on the living room floor with his Legos when a truck door slams from outside.

  He turns back to look at me with wide-eyes. My heart starts to jackhammer in my throat but as I get up the door swings open.

  Weston’s eyes are wild and crazy. A look in them I have never seen before. “Are you okay?” I ask.

  He swallows slowly. “Hey, Weston!” Maddox yells, running up to him.

  Weston turns his gaze to Maddox and bends down to his level. “Hey, buddy. Why don’t you go to your room really quick for me? Then I’ll take you to play some football outside when you’re done.”

  Maddox jumps up and runs to his room without any question. Weston turns to me and stares. My heart is in my throat. Is he mad about his dad? Does he even know? What the hell is going on?!

  Walking over, he shoves my books across the couch and carries me to my bedroom. The bed squeaks as he lays us down and begins to cover my entire body with his mouth. “Weston,” I groan, squirming my hips. “It’s not that I’m not enjoying this because I am but what’s going on? You look kind of crazed.”

  Ten rough fingers dig into my hips and he pulls me down lower so I can look up at him. “I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like you did today.” He rubs my jaw.

  “So, you talked to your dad?”

  He nods. “He—he called me today and told me what you said to him. I’m not stupid and I’m not going to get my hopes up but this was a step in the right direction. It was almost—nice to hear his voice.”

  My chest swells. “Well, I’m glad he called. I was beginning to think he wasn’t even listening to me.”

  Weston grips the back of my neck with his wide palm. “Oh, he was listening, baby. I’ve never had anyone stick up for me like that—besides Dom—and I don’t think you know how much that means to me.”

  I fight the tears. “I hated to see you cry—I never want to see it again. It hurt me to see it.”

  Weston presses his forehead against mine and molds my mouth with his. This kiss isn’t sexy or sweet. It’s prefect. The firmness of him against the softness of me—it almost feels like we are thread of the same cloth. “Thank you,” he begins to whisper against my throat, then my chest. He rips my shirt over my head and pulls down the cups of my bra.