Evil Love

by Ella Fields

  Maybe she’d gone inside. I released a forced, dramatic sigh. “Nah, it was my bad. I’ll go. Why don’t you head inside and take a shower?”

  “I don’t need one yet. It’s like, only four o’clock.”

  “You do,” I said, waving my hand in front of my nose.

  Henry’s hands balled at his sides. “Do not.”

  “Do too.” I laughed when his face reddened. “Go,” I said, backing up down the drive. “I’ll jump on the Xbox with you after dinner.”

  His anger fled rapidly, and he grinned. “Deal.”

  I waited until he’d gone, then I walked along the hedge, trying to find a large enough gap to squeeze through. I found one minutes later, but I had to head back up the side of the house and into the backyard.

  I was guessing that was where Fern had slipped through the first night she’d come to visit.

  With the exception of a covered pool that I wasn’t sure was ever used and some white tables and chairs, the Denane’s backyard was pretty sparse. There were no gardens, only two potted plants outside on the lower verandah, and upon closer inspection, I noticed they weren’t even real.

  How like January. To be honest, I was surprised she’d kept a child alive for as long as she had. Then I remembered Fern had a father.

  Fuck if I knew where he was.

  “Looking for something?”

  At the side of her house, I halted and looked up to the balcony outside her bedroom.

  Fern was holding my football, her hair hanging over the railing. I caught a glimpse of generous cleavage, her breasts resting over it too. “I wouldn’t say I was looking.”

  Her auburn brows perked, and she retreated. “Cool, guess I’ll keep it then.” She muttered something I couldn’t hear as she disappeared inside her room.

  I cursed. She was going to make me come inside.

  Couldn’t have planned it better if I’d actually put some thought into it.

  I rang the doorbell. Pointless, seeing as she didn’t answer. The doors were unlocked, so I let myself in.

  As predicted, January’s style was cold and on-trend with leather and corals and hardwood furniture and floor. A few pictures of Fern dotted the gray walls, but none of her and her father, and only one of her and January.

  Fern looked to be about twelve, her teeth still delightfully crooked and her eyes shining under a bright floppy pink hat. More freckles lined her nose, and even January’s, making it obvious they were on vacation somewhere.

  A thud came from above, and I followed the hall to the staircase, taking a peek at the kitchen on the way. Sleek with new appliances, it was so clean that besides the giant coffee machine, it was probably never used.

  The wood groaned underfoot, and the sun exploded from an oblong floor-to-ceiling window at the top of the stairs.

  Fern’s room was the closest to the window, I knew, and the door was wide open.

  Inside, she waited for me, cross-legged on her crumpled bedding and what looked to be an assignment sitting before her.

  My football was on her lap.

  “You must really like this ball,” she said around a pen hanging from her teeth.

  A quick study showed organized rainbow mayhem. I felt my spine stiffen, and my hands twitched. I shoved them into the pockets of my gym shorts.

  Staring at the polka-dotted armchair overloaded with clothes, and the books dumped in three white cases—one by her bed, one behind me next to her desk, and another that lined the short hall leading to a closet and bathroom—I shifted back a step. “I really like where it’s sitting.”

  She half laughed, half scoffed. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “I guessed as much.” Traipsing over to her desk, I pushed her laptop and some miscellaneous textbooks back, and leaned against it. “Miss me?”

  The pen was still in her mouth, and she didn’t answer. She watched me as if she were trying to decide what to do with me. Feed me or tell me to fuck off.

  She would feed me.

  “I’m hungry, Red,” I said, straightening. My eyes coasted over her bare legs, the too-large tank that made it seem like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “And lately, you seem content to let me starve.” I tutted. “And you think I’m cruel.”

  She blinked up at me, long, mascara-free lashes fluttering once then twice. “Jude, you made me s—”

  I snatched the pen from between her teeth, my knees hitting her bed, and she swallowed. “Unless you’re about to ask me to eat you, your mouth, or your cunt, then save it.” I clicked the pen, the tip vanishing, and then dragged it down her arm.

  Breath shook from her lungs, goose bumps and tiny hairs rising with the slow, purposeful touch. “Lie down or tell me to fuck off.”

  After untold minutes of staring, those huge blue eyes flitting over my face, she kicked her notebook away and lowered over her bed.

  I removed my sneakers and tried to shove down the bouncing sensation that tightened every breath, not to mention my balls.

  I was already hard. I’d been hard since the second I saw her sitting there, and now, it wasn’t just a throb, a want, a means to an end. The need I felt for this girl was primal, a savage necessity—her desire for me so vital that I could hardly fucking breathe.

  Tearing my eyes from hers, those heaving breasts hidden behind nothing but flimsy cotton, I sent them down her body. Over the perfect flare of her curved hips, I discovered nothing but creamy skin. She wasn’t wearing anything.

  No panties.

  Fern parted her thighs, whispering, “I guess I did miss you after all.”

  A knot the size of my fist lodged in my throat. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t inhale. I just moved down her bed, ripped off my gym shorts along the way, and stared.

  Her hands fidgeted with her tank over her stomach, but I kept my eyes glued—couldn’t remove them if I tried—on the glistening gift she’d left unwrapped for me. “Jude?”

  So sweet, so nervous, and so fucking wet without so much as a touch from me—I wasn’t sure if I’d ever forget this moment. In fact, I was positive I could die happy today.

  Just not before I tasted what the mere sight of me did to her.

  I cleared my throat, watched her thighs jolt in response, and then fisted my cock. “Your mom?”

  “Gone until tomorrow.”

  I tore off my shirt and knelt on her bed. “Thank fucking Christ.” Then I wrapped my hands around her thighs and feasted.

  Her cries and moans, the clawing of her fingers in my hair… I loved pussy, and I loved eating it, but fuck if I’d ever enjoyed eating something this much before in my life.

  Her taste melted over my tongue, and it wasn’t long before she almost did, too, but I pulled away and stood back up.

  Fern rose onto her elbows, flushed and her hair a mess.

  “Remove your shirt and lie back down,” I said.

  She did, and naked as the day I was born, I climbed on top of her, my mouth coasting up her stomach to her breasts. I feasted on them too, licking and sucking and shivering from her fingers dragging over my scalp.

  Her legs wound around my hips as I moved higher. With my mouth hovering over hers, I planted my arms either side of her head. Dazed and so fucking desperate for me, her teeth scraped over her lip, and those incredible eyes widened when I allowed my hips to lower all the way to press my cock against her wet cunt. “Are we…?”

  I knew she was a virgin, and I wasn’t here for that. I’d take as much as she was willing to give me, but I’d never steal that. That belonged to some other asshole who’d put her up in a home just like this one by the beach and give her two point five kids and a cat or three to go with her crazy.

  I knew she’d want at least one cat, judging by the prints on every throw cushion in the room.

  I could never give her any of that, but not because it wasn’t within my power. Anything I wanted was now within breathing distance, and I’d paid with half my soul to make it so.

  But because she was a threat, and I knew ta
king more than I already had from her would just make a mess out of this fucked-up affair.

  “No,” I said, kissing her, my tongue parting her lips. “Never.”

  If she was disappointed, I didn’t want to know. I kissed her again, this time lifting my hips a little to rub myself up and down the wet beauty between her thighs.

  Her eyes popped when I pulled back, and I grinned. “Like it?”

  She nodded, then croaked, “Yes.”

  “Show me.” I bumped her nose with mine, hearing her breathing stall when I rubbed myself over her clit. “Just like you showed me how much you like me when you opened those pretty thighs.”

  She moaned, obviously a fan of dirty talk, so I kept it up as I nibbled her lips, licking and biting and whispering, “So fucking filthy for me, aren’t you, Red? Just me.”

  “Just you,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed.

  “Eyes on me,” I said, watching her lashes curl up, almost high enough to meet her brows. “Always.”

  “Always on you,” she repeated, her smooth as silk thighs trembling around my hips.

  I kissed her hard, deep, and swallowed every tiny, choked cry, groaning as I did.

  Her nails scored into my back, dragging up and down, and my entire body purred. “I want us to come on each other.” I licked her cheek, then tucked my forearms under her shoulders. “Okay, Red? So wet and so hard, I want to stain our skin with it.”

  “Oh, god.” She tore away, and indeed, she came so hard, I had no control—nothing—and I flinched as I unexpectedly joined her.

  Her eyes were wide on mine as I cursed and dropped my head, my cock unloading between our bodies. Every part of me shook and shivered, and I hadn’t realized I’d thrown my head into her neck until I gathered enough breath back inside my lungs to open my eyes.

  Soft and adoring, her fingers traced every muscle and indent she could reach on my back.

  And as I laid there, blinking at the panties she’d tossed under the pillow before I’d entered her room, I knew.

  I knew I’d cursed myself all over again. Yet again, I was stained, and I hoped like hell this one would eventually wash off.

  I had to get up. I had to stay away or at least put more and more distance between these visits until it was no longer a burn that needed soothing, but a pest that was sufficiently squashed over time.

  “Jude?” she asked, quiet, as though she feared I was asleep.

  “Mmm?”

  “Will you,” she started, her fingers pausing on my shoulder blades. “Will you go to prom with me?”

  Those words were a bucket of iced water dumped straight over my head.

  Fuck. Was she serious right now?

  Of course, she was.

  She had to have known I was already going with Marnie. It wasn’t announced, and I hadn’t made a show of it. It was just expected. Everyone expected it, including us.

  But as I opened my mouth to laugh and reject her, I felt something twinge inside my chest.

  I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t fucking hurt this chick anymore.

  She didn’t seem to care enough anyway. She just kept coming right back. And even though I’d pushed and I’d pushed, somehow, I still wound up letting her.

  “My dirty little secret is inviting me to prom?”

  She flinched beneath me, and I squeezed my eyes closed.

  Fear tied up my words, wrapped tight around my vocal cords. “Red.” I felt her clam up, her hands falling from my back, and I sighed. “I’m going… I’m going to need some time to think about it.” I pushed myself up and rolled my neck, ridding some of the tension with a resounding click. “Kay?”

  She removed her wet eyes from my neck and met mine, nodding once. “I need to get cleaned up.”

  Fuck, I hated her.

  I hated myself.

  I hated that we’d stupidly gone and done this all over again.

  Most of all, I hated that I wanted, no needed, to see her smile. “Is your mom allergic to cats?”

  Her face scrunched at the random question, but I waited. After a moment, I got what I wanted, her lips wriggling into a perfect curve that lifted her flushed cheeks.

  I rolled off her as she said, “No, just responsibility,” and climbed out of bed.

  I watched her ass, the intoxicating swells and arches of her body, and then she was gone, and the bathroom door latched closed.

  I sat up and rubbed my hands over my face. “Idiot,” I whispered, harshly while digging my palms into my eyes. “You fucking stupid ass idiot.” Dropping them, I released a frustrated breath and scooched to the edge of the bed to get dressed.

  My stomach was sticky as all hell, but I didn’t care. I tugged my shorts back on and grabbed my shirt. I had to get out of here before I did something even more stupid, like telling her yes. Yes, I’ll take you to prom, Red.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. It was that I couldn’t. She was fun and all, and she got me hard like nothing else, but she wasn’t for me.

  Marnie was for me, and I was being a real jackass by fucking around on both of them like this.

  Better late than never to grow a conscience, my mother used to always say. I used to think she was talking out of her ass.

  Until I realized I never had a conscience to begin with.

  Red was good for something other than curing a raging hard-on, it seemed. Who would’ve thought? Certainly not me.

  My thoughts slammed into a wall when I noticed her homework still lying on the corner of the bed about to topple to the floor. Stepping closer, I plucked up the large black leather-bound journal. Not homework.

  A diary.

  The sound of running water reached my ears, but I was too busy reading the last few entries to think about Red taking a shower. And as I flipped back to the front… holy shit.

  My heart stopped dead.

  It was obvious the chick liked me, but this? I had no words. Not enough air in my brain to construct concise thoughts.

  She didn’t like me.

  She wasn’t just obsessed with me.

  She was into me in a way that reeked of trouble. Chop-my-body-up-and-throw-away-the-pieces kind of trouble.

  Her diary hanging loose in my hand, I looked around her room, wondering what else I’d find.

  The door of her closet was cracked open, a soft glow emanating from inside.

  My feet carried me over without the command, and I shouldered the door all the way open, coming to a stop inside the walk-in.

  I stumbled back two steps, then moved forward, unable to believe what I was seeing.

  There I was, eleventh grade, my hair sweat-soaked as I held a trophy in the air.

  Tenth grade, a picture that’d been taken of my brother and me that I’d shared on my Instagram. Beneath it, a poor depiction of my tattoo drawn upon art paper. Next to it, an actual picture of the tattoo on my back, and to the right, a picture of me asleep.

  The Slytherin insignia was taped to the wall beside a yearbook photo taken last year, and on the other side, a piece of paper with my birthday, height, academic achievements, and names of the people I hung out with.

  Marnie’s name had been crossed out three times with a red pen, each line a harsh slash.

  My ears rang, sharp and piercing, my head emptying of oxygen.

  She’d taken fucking pictures of me while I was sleeping.

  Upon the shelf above sat two bottles of the cologne I wore, as well as a bottle of shampoo.

  My stomach lurched and my chest filled with so much air, I was suddenly too afraid to even exhale. Lightheaded and swallowing profusely, I backed up and gripped the doorframe.

  Looking at the bathroom door, I heard the water shut off, and I didn’t hesitate.

  Her diary, love letters, whatever the fuck they were, still in hand, I bailed as if my ass was on fire. I raced down the stairs and threw myself outside, not bothering to close the doors. Thorns and branches sliced me up as I climbed and dragged myself over the hedge.
<
br />   Fuck finding the hole and running through our yards. I needed out. I needed to get back on solid ground.

  I needed away from the girl who was so much more than what she seemed.

  Red now made perfect sense to me.

  Fern Denane hadn’t been a quiet loser all these years, hidden amongst hormonal socialites. She’d been a coiled snake biding her time before she struck.

  Fern

  Coraline and Silas seemed to have made up in the weeks since his weird disappearing acts.

  When I’d asked her about it, she’d just sighed, and said, “I don’t know what happened, but he swears he’s not going to worry me like that again.” She shrugged. “What can I do? When you love someone, you want to believe them, and I trust him.”

  I couldn’t relate, and she knew it, swiftly moving the conversation to the Vikings show we’d both been binge-watching.

  Sorrow and resentment formed a sour taste in my mouth whenever I watched Silas and Cory be their usual lovestruck selves at school. Usually, I didn’t care at all. I was happy she was happy, and Silas was always nice to me.

  The sour taste turned bitter after the Sunday afternoon when Jude vanished from my room, and he’d since gone back to ignoring me in the days after.

  But he wasn’t just ignoring me. He wasn’t even bullying me.

  He flat-out avoided anything to do with me.

  I felt like I was back at square one. Alone and trying not to suffocate on what-ifs.

  Prom was now two weeks away, and the preparations and parties had picked up speed. I had no interest in attending any more, though. Not if it meant seeing Marnie and Jude together again, and I undoubtedly would, being that Jude was rarely home.

  I’m going to need some time to think about it.

  I wasn’t sure why he’d bothered lying to me. Word on the street was he and Marnie were practically planning their wedding once more.

  I’d berated myself for days for asking him to prom. Of course, he’d say no. Of course, he’d take her. The slimy sensation of disappointment and regret worsened the tightness in my chest, creating a swarm of hurt that made it hard to breathe. I couldn’t even bring myself to write about how I’d been feeling in my diary.