December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1)

Home > Other > December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1) > Page 10
December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1) Page 10

by Watson, Q. M.


  His fingers tighten in my hair, shoving my head down. His free hand tilts my hips, and he rams hard from behind. One hand holds my hips as he thrusts evenly at a pace I’ve grown to love. His heated skin is touching my heated skin. I can feel the essence of his undeniable strength in every move, in his every breath, in his trembling limbs. His rhythm gets faster, pounding deep enough I wince from violent pleasure blooming in my body.

  I gasp from the fierce impact and overwhelming sensation, coming instantly.

  His thrusts speed up as he slams his hips down. The band of his control snaps, and things get aggressive. Danny’s animalistic side shows. His fingers bury into my flesh hard enough that I know I’m going to have bruises. His lips and teeth score my neck. His hand in my hair pulls harshly, ripping strands from the follicles.

  I wince and flinch underneath him, wanting to absorb all the pain, wanting to run from it, wanting to surrender to it.

  We both come with his final hard thrust. His hips slam down on my ass, pinning me to the bed with his entire body. Danny empties into me with a low, vibrating growl. He mindlessly pushes into me again and again as he comes and pours into me. This goes on for a while. I vaguely wonder how long he’s been without sex.

  He collapses on top of me, burying his face in my hair as if exhausted. He releases a heavy, saddened sigh but tenses as if he’s aware that it’s me underneath him. Danny carefully lifts from me. I turn over to watch him. His gorgeous face is pale and emotionless. He doesn’t make eye contact as he tucks himself back into his boxers. There is a bit of bright red blood smeared near the crotch area of his white pants.

  I swallow hard and shift on the bed, registering the distinct ache between my legs. My body is sore, but my heart hurts far worse as I watch Danny. He seems so far away as he laces up his boots. He looks tortured and haunted. He looks like I’ve taken something from him.

  Danny’s eyes stay down on a fixed spot on the floor. My fingers clench the sheets under me. He opens his mouth to speak but shuts it before anything comes out.

  Then he turns his back to me and walks out the door.

  My eyes burn; my tears are demanding to be shed and freed. I don’t have time to process this because my sister calls me. She tells me they’re on their way back. They can’t find me like this. No one can.

  I get up from the bed and notice the white covers stained with scarlet. I frantically rip the soiled sheets from the mattress, ball them up, and toss them in a plastic bag. I throw the bag in the dumpster and then remake the bed as if it was never touched.

  I strip off the princess gown that’s also ruined with blood and dress in the casual clothes I arrived in. I don’t have time to clean myself up. It simply has to be a dress-and-go until I can get home.

  Miles and May arrive. They thank me, and I hug them both before leaving. May says I can have the gown since I got married in it. She looks pleased to have it off her hands. I make it home, and it’s in the cover of darkness when the first tear falls. I bury my face in the mini Sunflower Josh won for me and cry until I stop because I drift off into oblivion.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE PRESENT

  “How did you manage to get that close?” I ask, staring at a photograph of a lion resting and yawning in the high South African grass.

  Josh’s grease-covered lips smirk as he feeds himself another slice of pepperoni pizza. “I’m a risk taker, but I can’t take all the credit. The camera lenses I use do wonders.” He props his dirty boots on my desk like it’s his. “What can I say? I’m a fucking artist.”

  “You amaze me with how humble you are,” I joke. “Just because the lion didn’t eat you, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  He lifts his golden eyebrows, grinning massively and lowering his pretty lashes. “You know, I hate it when you tease me, December.” He playfully narrows his eyes. “So don’t tease me, or I may be forced to do something about it.”

  “I feel the sexual tension dripping off you. When was the last time you got laid?”

  “It’s been a drought.” He groans.

  “That’s terrible,” I say in mock concern. “Why are you having such trouble?”

  “See, I can’t seem to get my best friend out of my head. If I even come close to having another woman in my bed, it just doesn’t sit right with me. I’d stare down at a pair of lips, longing for them to be hers. I’d be next to a warm body, having the urge to be with hers instead. It feels wrong kissing someone who isn’t her. So since she invaded my mind, I no longer torture myself. I’d rather be abstaining from sex than lying to myself.”

  “What would that lie be?” I ask out of curiosity.

  He gives me an easy smile, a dazzling smile that captivates me. “That I’m not insanely, irrevocably, irrationally in love with her,” he says, steadily holding my gaze. My heart almost beats out of my chest. “You want to know the worst part? Part of me believes she truly loves me and wants to be with me. I know she loves me. I know she wants the best for me. But another part of me believes she likes to hurt me. She’s kind of like a rosebush, so beautiful to look at but when you get close enough to touch, her thorns come out to draw blood.”

  “She sounds like a bitch,” I mumble, slinging down the half-bitten pizza on my paper plate. I can’t eat anymore. My appetite has left the building.

  “You’re right, she is a bitch . . . but she’s so much more. Underneath her thorny exterior is a wonderful woman full of warmth and full of deep, deep love. She’d give the shirt off her back for me. I mean, she isn’t too bad. She’s just been hurt a lot. But I plan to love her throughout it all, if she lets me.”

  “Josh,” I whisper, wanting to cry.

  His aquamarine eyes shine brilliantly. They’re extremely blue. Looking into his eyes is like peering into crystal clear waters. “Don’t feel too bad for me. Hey. Maybe she’ll come around.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Say you’ll go out with me after work. It’s Friday. We can ride the horses and go out to the theater. There’s this new action flick I want to see. And you still owe me dinner.”

  It is Friday. It’s been four days since Danny took my virginity. It’s been four days since I’ve heard from him. My mood has been low all week until today. Today Josh surprised me at work with lunch, and he bought my favorite—pizza.

  How can I say no to him?

  Besides, I can tell him about what happened between me and Danny over dinner.

  “I’m yours.”

  He stares at me with those big blue eyes and grins. “I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

  “Okay,” I smile. “You have to go now. I have to check on the chimps and feed the peacocks.”

  “Can I stay for the peacocks? I want to help.”

  “Sure, but you have to go after that. I can’t work with you around. You get me in trouble.” The last time Josh spent the entire day with me at work, we joked around all day like big kids. I didn’t get anything done. I got the feeding schedule all screwed up. My animals were pissed. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson weren’t too pleased, either.

  Josh jumps from my desk chair and yells, “Let’s get these cocks fed!”

  Shaking my head, I laugh.

  ***

  I shut the door to my Thunderbird, and a numbing chill that has nothing to do with the freezing weather races across my skin. I pause and look over my shoulder only to see a row of cars in the vast abandoned amusement park’s parking lot. That’s strange. It feels like someone is watching me. The bare wooden and steel rollercoaster tracks twisting and looping through the dark, infinite sky amplifies the eerie factor.

  I give my head a slight shake as if to clear it and then walk through the vacant, welcoming entrance and slide through the cold metal bars of the turnstiles.

  Breathing excitedly, I skip through the festive courtyard that’s still lined with souvenir shops and concession stands. It’s a ghost town around here.

  This place was once alive and bursting with bright and happy swir
ling colors, filled with thrilled screams and thriving with people. I swear I can still smell the aroma of hot grease and sugar. The scent of buttery popcorn, fried corndogs, powdery donuts, and sweet cotton candy that once wafted through the air lingers.

  Everything is now eerily frozen in time and rotting, but I can’t help but feel joyously alive in this surreal graveyard of fun.

  How fun.

  It’s snowing. Thick specks of freezing snow flutter around me like a rain shower of cold white shimmer. The icy flurries fall on my face, melting on my cheeks and lips, giving me a cold wet kiss of winter.

  My lungs fill with fresh cold air as I twirl around, holding my arms out to my sides like wings. Invigorating glee takes over me. It’s as if I can simply spread my arms out and fly away, soar above the neglected park and shoot right up into the stars.

  I skip and run past the collapsing funhouses and the games of ring toss and water gun blasting. Gigantic, dirty, plush-pink stuffed bunnies remain behind the unoccupied stands, untouched.

  I follow the carnival music and the bright lights down the crumbling yellow brick road.

  Everything is decaying, and nothing works except the carousel ride. It’s strangely the only thing operational. It’s fully equipped, and someone leaves it on every Friday, no matter rain or shine or snow. It’s always on with its brilliant lights and cheery carnival music. Everyone in town has always staked out late Thursday nights, including me and my sisters, trying to uncover the identity of the Carousel Rider. That’s what he or she is called: Carousel Rider. Something weird would always happen, like loud banging noises and strange animal howls, startling us and drawing our attention away from the task of watching. When we looked away for that second, the carousel would be lit and working by the time we turned around. We have never solved the mystery. No one has.

  “December.”

  I pause at the low whispering of my name, my heart lurching painfully against my ribs. Breathing heavily, I turn around and scream so silently that I barely make a peep. The scariest clown in full makeup smiles evilly down at me. His eyes are red like burning coals, and his powdery-white face is sunken and creepy, brilliant cherry-red lipstick smeared all over his mouth.

  He opens his sloppily-painted mouth and begins to sing. “I’ve been watching you. Happy birthday. One year closer to death. Better enjoy what’s left. Happy birthday, December.”

  The fucking creepy clown sings.

  “Woo!”

  The cheers and hollers grow louder like thunder from behind me. I recognize the energized voices, but I can’t seem to move.

  Warm arms close around me, and my nose is saturated in the scent of fresh laundry. “I think we’ve scared her.”

  Sighing, I fall into Josh’s chest.

  The clown gives a quick bow and then pulls a sunflower from his baggy sleeve like magic. He doesn’t smile when he offers it to me.

  “Go on and get it,” Josh encourages into my ear. He drops his arms, and I take a tentative step forward and then another until I reach out with a shaky hand, taking the flower from the clown.

  He gives me another swift bow, and I yelp, running back into Josh’s arms. He holds me firmly, laughing in my hair. “It’s all right, my little boo-butt.” I hear snickering and giggling around me.

  I close my eyes for a moment, letting Josh rock me in his arms. “Which one of you fuckers got the clown?” My voice is muffled by Josh’s coat.

  “It was my idea.” January laughs. “And it was so worth it to see you freak out like that.”

  “You bitch,” I reply.

  Josh kisses my forehead and smiles down at me. “You’re fine.”

  “Yes,” I whisper. He releases me to hold my hand. This is the thing I love about Josh. He’s affectionate. He loves to hold my hand and give me hugs and tender kisses. The best part is that I never have to ask for them.

  “You’re such a bitch,” I say to January with a tired laugh.

  She mimics the clown’s sharp bow. “Why thank you.”

  We smile at each other. “I love you, anyway.”

  “I love you more.”

  Regaining my composure, I look at all my sisters. July has cut her blonde locks. It’s super short and choppy as hell. It looks unbelievably good on her. May is dressed in all back. Her clothing is loose and comfortable, blending into the night like a ninja. She’s totally anti-Cinderella. And January still has her business-casual uniform on. She’s the manager of a tow yard. She loves being surrounded by loud-mouthed men all day. But she’s usually in one her pin up ’50s-style dresses that drive Gray wild.

  All the Oliver brothers have matching smiles on their faces, everyone but Danny. Danny doesn’t smile. In fact, he doesn’t look too thrilled to be here. His direct gaze is focused on me like nothing else exists.

  I feel myself drawn to his magnetic gaze as his dark eyes run down the length of my body and then settle on my and Josh’s joined hands. He stares at our entwined fingers and blinks as if no amount of words can describe how he feels. Danny doesn’t need words to convey what he feels because he simply turns his back to me and walks in the direction of the carousel ride.

  I’m cloaked in deep sadness and guilt as I watch him walk away from me again.

  “You ready to ride the horses?”

  I look up at Josh and nod. “Yeah.”

  Everyone follows us to the swirling horses and golden lights and music. I’m surprised to see more faces. There’s Jasmine, Mia, and Karen from work. And then there’s Jessica. Everyone has that one person that loves to hate them. Everyone has that special frenemy that lives to bring them down whether it may be intentional or not, that uniquely negative someone that you really should cut ties with but yet they’re somehow invited to every event you’re involved in.

  Jessica is that frenemy I can’t seem to get rid of. She’s like a pesky roach, not even the blast that extinguished the dinosaurs killed roaches. She seems like she’s here to stay.

  Oh, Piper’s here as well. Piper isn’t a frenemy. Unlike Jessica, Piper is actually genuine about her feelings toward me. Piper and I have a complicated relationship. She doesn’t hate me. Piper likes me. She’s unbelievably polite and sweet toward me. Piper’s been that way since the beginning . . . and yet I can’t say I’ve had the nicest thoughts toward her.

  She’s Danny’s ex-wife. She and Danny shared a life together. From what I’ve heard, it was a great life that Danny didn’t want to end. It was Piper who filed for divorce. I don’t know why she didn’t want to be his wife anymore, but I do know Danny wanted to be her husband. I know Danny wanted to save their marriage. I know if things went his way, she’d still be Mrs. Oliver.

  It hurts, not only that but when they’re in each other’s space, I can clearly see their love for one another. They revolve around each other when they’re together. Their love never died. It’s still there. Danny and Piper love each other from a distance. It’s there, only miles and miles away. It’s like they love one another through thick-plated windows, unable to touch, yet the desire isn’t any less intense.

  I hate to admit that to myself, but maybe that’s why I can’t say wholeheartedly that Piper and I are friends.

  Mia and Jasmine bring over a pretty frosted white cake covered with colorful sprinkles and lit with dozens of flaming candles. “We got you a cake!”

  Karen and July merrily sing Happy Birthday while Josh and all my sisters hug me, clinging to every limb. I’m wrapped in layers of them. My eyes water a little. I’m not used to being bombarded with wave after wave of love. It’s a love overload.

  “Make a wish,” Josh says in my ear.

  I close my eyes and wish for more memories with my loved ones. Everyone claps and cheers when I blow out the candles. My sisters cut the cake and serve me and everyone else.

  Josh and I have our own thing going on. We don’t mean to, but we separate ourselves from the group. We eat cake on our little paper party plates and drink ice-cold vodka from the bottle. Josh and I ride the horses
. I scream in joy, shutting my eyes and throwing back my head as the wind whips through my hair. We go round and round until symmetry is nonexistent. I enjoy the ride. If only life can be like this—entirely out of control but so damn fun.

  I stumble off the spinning horses. Josh is quick to catch me. I glance up at Josh, and three of him smiles down at me. “Whoa!”

  “I’ve got you.”

  “Let’s go to the rollercoaster,” I say to him, feeling the vodka running through me.

  Fuck.

  I’m drunk.

  “Can you even hold your head up?” Gray asks.

  “She’s smashed.” Jessica laughs. “She drinks for you and me and everyone here. I’ve told her she shouldn’t drink that much.”

  “But aren’t you the one who bought the liquor?” January accuses.

  Jessica’s face shrivels up in forged shock, which she shouldn’t do. She has a pretty face, an attractive face, a face with hazel eyes and plump lips. But damn her face is pretty ugly when it’s all scrunched up like she tasted something sourly gross.

  “It’s not my fault December can’t handle her alcohol. She’s a grown woman. I will not be blamed for her childish behavior.”

  “Just shut the hell up,” July shouts. “Why are you even here? I didn’t invite you.”

  Did I mention my sisters don’t like her? They know Jessica’s the reason for most of the negative things in my life. She started terrible rumors when we were in high school. She told everyone I slept with all of the Oliver brothers. But it wasn’t me who slept with them. We live in a small town where your word and reputation is everything, where your character is as valuable as currency. I got shit for that until I graduated. Who am I kidding? I still get shit for it. I’ve since learned to brush off the hate. All the mumbled whores and sluts whispered under breaths of judgmental and hateful people do not bother me anymore. My sisters are my super warriors, even when I don’t need them to be.

 

‹ Prev