by Sally Mason
“What was that all about back there with the gate?”
“Well . . .” A sheepish smile crawls on his lips. “I didn’t want to take the main entrance and had to kind of pick the lock.”
My jaw drops. “Isn’t that breaking and entering?”
“Since I’m not intending to steal anything, it’s only trespassing.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s still a crime.”
“Yeah, but only a misdemeanor.” He smiles at me. “Don’t worry, they won’t put you in jail for a first offense.”
“That’s comforting.”
He turns on the radio. Rap music with lots of profanities fills the truck. When I send him a scolding frown, he turns the volume down. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
My smile is crooked as I ponder how to best approach this delicate situation without totally spoiling the mood. Yet there is no easy way to say it. “My brother told me that you were also convicted of sexual assault.”
His body tenses while his eyes stay fixed on the road. “That’s right.”
A chill runs through me. He is a sexual predator. I want to jump out of the truck and run.
His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “But it’s not what you think. When all this stuff happened with my mom’s boyfriend, he claimed that I was the one who molested my brother. Bastard swore he walked in on us and that’s why I beat him, though it was the other way around. My brother was totally intimidated and feared for his life, so when the police questioned him, he didn’t tell them the truth.”
“Then why didn’t you take it to trial?”
“I could have and even had a good public defender, but they would’ve tried me as an adult. With the attempted murder charge, I was looking at life. I didn’t want to take that chance.”
I squint at him. “So you just pled guilty?”
“I did beat him up and almost killed him, so that charge was going to stick no matter what. They offered me a juvenile conviction in delinquency lockup until I was nineteen and two years’ probation afterward if I pled to both charges. It was the best deal I could have gotten. After my release, my mom didn’t want me, but luckily, my uncle took me in and I was able to transfer my probation. That’s how I ended up here.”
There is a huge lump in my throat when I gaze at him. His jaw is clenched and his eyes glisten with tears. “It must have been hard, losing your family like that.” His mother is either really dumb or a total bitch.
Wetness glistens in his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about my mom. She has never given me the time of day, so I didn’t really expect any different. What really gets me is that my brother is still living with them and that asshole is probably raping him day in and day out like he did me. He’s only thirteen.”
I can’t even imagine what he must be going through. “What’s your brother’s name?”
“Cameron.” He wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. “I swear, once I’m off probation, I’ll go back and get him out of there, but for now, there’s nothing I can do. It’s driving me nuts.”
There is again this pain in his eyes when he glances at me. I’m sure he’s telling the truth; there’s no way that anyone could act that convincingly.
“What about your uncle? Can’t he petition for custody now?”
“He could if he believed me.” Finn sighs. “At the moment, he’s still trying to figure things out. So far, my mom has always sided with her boyfriend and claims I’m full of crap, so he doesn’t know what to believe.”
I want to comfort him but am lost for words. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
He nods. “Let’s just forget about all this—just for tonight. No more talk about Jed, my brother, or anyone else. It’s just you and me having a good time out of town, like two regular teens.” His eyes are pleading. “Let’s go dancing. Would you like that?”
I haven’t been to a club in years. “Yeah, but there’s one problem. It’s Thursday and there’re no underage discos open.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I was talking about a real club, not some kiddie party.”
I already have an idea where this conversation is going, but with one last-ditch effort, I try to hold on to my moral turpitude. “Last time I checked, you had to be twenty-one to get in.”
The smile gets wider. “You’re in luck. A friend of mine sells the best fake IDs in the state for only twenty bucks.”
When our eyes interlock, it is settled. There’s no stopping us now.
CHAPTER 8
An hour later, we stop in front of a house in a rough neighborhood. It is dark now, the remains of broken bottles and scattered garbage only dimly lit by a couple of working streetlights. We stop behind a raggedy old Buick. When we get out, I notice a brand new SUV parked in the driveway—whoever this guy is must be living in this area by choice and not lack of money.
A couple of thugs and a girl in a dress that barely hides her cleavage, or her butt, are out on the porch, sharing a cigarette. The girl looks totally wasted with her mouth hanging open, her eyes in another world.
A big tall dude opens the door for us after briefly nodding at Finn. “What’s up, man?”
Finn pushes right past him without the benefit of even a glance. I choose to ignore him as well when he eyes me from top to bottom. A tingling sensation spreads down my scalp—the whole situation is kind of creepy. I would prefer to just leave and forget the whole ID business, but Finn has already disappeared into the depths of the house.
With reluctance, I step over the threshold. The interior is worse than expected. Most of the furniture has seen better days; broken toys and candy wrappers litter the ground. A musty smell hangs in the air, mixed with the sweet bite of cigarette smoke. When laughter drifts from somewhere in the back, I follow the sound of muffled voices and low rap music.
The living room is packed with people who would have me running for the hills if I had my own car. A giant leans back on a couch with his arms and legs spread open. A girl on her knees in front of him is just zipping up his pants. From the look of things, we interrupted them at a bad moment. Another couple is on a chair in the corner, totally oblivious that more guests have arrived to their party. After the guy unhooks the girl’s bra, I avoid glancing in their direction at all costs.
Finn has made himself comfortable on the small love seat. “Kelsey, this is my friend Tyrone and his girl, Daliana. Say hello.”
“Hi.” I blush when Tyrone gives me a good once-over. His hard, dark eyes give me the creeps. Half the buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing a broad chest over his beer belly roll, thick gold chains hanging around his neck. From all the stereotypes I know, he has drug dealer written all over him.
“She’s adorable, man,” Tyrone grumbles. His lips are barely moving as he talks to my breasts. “Maybe I should get to the countryside more often and get me one of these.”
My cheeks burn while I just stand there, unsure what to do. A heavy stone forms in the pit of my stomach while his eyes travel south. I halfway expect him to ask me to turn around, so he can inspect my behind. Daliana’s neck is extended to get a good glimpse at her boyfriend’s object of interest. Her pupils are dilated and her face is flushed—she’s definitely high.
Finn finally takes me out of my misery when he pats the space next to him. “Come on, Kelsey, have a seat and relax.”
“Want a beer?” Tyrone asks, smacking his lips.
Finn’s arm slides around my shoulders. “Sure thing.”
I go rigid, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Tyrone snaps his fingers and Daliana is on her feet. As she rushes out, I notice a big bruise on her upper arm. What the hell did I get myself into?
There is a moment of silence while Tyrone shifts his heavy body around on the couch until he finds a more comfortable position. “What do you need, man?”
“Fake ID.”
A grin spreads on Tyrone’s face. “No problem, but the price went up. It’s fo
rty now. If that’s too much, your girl can pay me in kind.”
When a chuckle vibrates through his body, my stomach clenches. My eyes travel to the big bulge between his legs—he is totally disgusting.
Daliana returns with three cans of Hanfill and hands one first to her man before offering the others to Finn and me.
“Get Marcel down here, woman. I have a job for him.”
She trots out like a good lapdog sent to fetch the paper. Finn opens the beer and takes a mouthful while beaming at Tyrone, his arm moving straight back into position around my shoulders when he is done. I feel like a prized possession he wants to protect from harm, which mirrors the ever-growing mountain of ice in my stomach. Everything about Tyrone screams danger. I cannot wait to get away from him.
Tyrone rummages around the table and tosses a small bag to Finn. “Here, some new stuff I got yesterday from Jamaica. It’s strong, man. You’ll like it.”
The bag contains a leafy substance reminding me of oregano. “How much?” Finn asks.
“It’s on the house since you brought her around.” Tyrone winks at me, sending some bile up my throat. “I always like meeting new people, especially cute ones.”
It finally dawns on me that the bag contains some type of drug, probably marijuana. It looks just like the picture they showed us in school during Drug Awareness Week. All of a sudden, I am glad Finn’s arm is cradling me, but my comfort doesn’t last long when he begins to fish around in his pockets for a pack of rolling paper.
With the tips of his thumb and index fingers, he spreads a little of the bag’s contents on one of the thin papers, rolling it up tightly before moistening the edge with his tongue to stick it all together. After he lights the joint, he takes a drag, holding the smoke in his lungs with his eyes closed. A satisfied groan runs over his lips at the same time the smoke finally escapes through the corners of his mouth.
A small cough follows. “Boy, that’s some good shit.” He holds the joint under my nose, the sharp scent making me dizzy. “Here, have some.”
I want to decline, but his eyes scream caution. I realize that Tyrone will likely get upset if I reject his welcoming gift. My hand trembles as I carefully tuck the joint between my fingers and bring it up to my lips. My lungs are on fire as soon as I fill them with smoke, a cough battling me until tears run down my cheeks.
When I finally settle down, two sets of ridiculing eyes stare at me. Tyrone has been joined by a guy who is the exact opposite of him—short, firm muscled, and clean. His head is shaven while Tyrone’s strings of hair keep obscuring his vision. Everything about him chills my blood. Next to him, Tyrone is like a cuddly teddy bear.
“I’m Marcel,” he introduces himself. “You need a fake ID?” There’s a hint of a southern drawl in his voice.
All I can do is nod—his glare paralyzes my vocal cords.
He picks up a camera off the table. “Stand over there by the wall.”
I hand Finn the joint and he takes another drag while I stumble over to the spot Marcel has pointed at. The noises around me sound surreal while the blood pulses in my ears. I blink a few times to focus while my picture is taken before finding my way back to the couch. My face and neck are burning up, a foul taste lacing the inside of my mouth.
“This’ll only take a few minutes.” Marcel disappears just as the joint is offered again. Daringly, I first down half of my beer before taking another drag. It burns less, but still throws me into a coughing fit. Finn squeezes my shoulder, which sends a shiver down my spine. I snuggle against him while a lulling feeling caresses my mind.
Daliana passes around another round of beers while a new joint is lit. The smoke hangs heavy in the room. I lose total track of time as I sip from the can, taking more drags of the joint whenever Finn offers it to me. My mouth dries up, which I battle with big gulps of Hanfill. The beer is ice cold and runs down my burning throat like a soothing balm. As soon as a can is empty, it’s replaced by another.
The rushing in my ears gets louder as the air shimmers in front of my eyes. It’s almost like I am floating around outside my body. Finn’s hand rests heavy on my shoulder. Every time his fingers twitch, a hot flash lights up my insides. I cuddle closer, enjoying the warmth of his body.
His breath grazes my neck. “Slow down.”
I pout. “Why? I’m having an excellent time.” My fingers trace alongside his chiseled chin. He really is gorgeous. “Don’t I deserve that for a change?”
His lips meet mine in response. His kiss is soft, and when our tongues intertwine, a shudder runs through me. Heat wallows in the depths of my belly, turning into a bubbling volcano as his teeth nip at my bottom lip. When his hand moves under my shirt, the tingles left behind by his fingernails gently cutting into my skin draws out a moan.
The magical moment is broken by a small voice. “Where’s my mommy? I’m thirsty.”
A young girl of maybe five stands in the doorway. She is really cute with dozens of braids framing her face, yet her eyes are dull without any joy. Her pink pajamas are two sizes too small with brown stains all over. Both her arms are wrapped around a big white bunny in a tight embrace.
I giggle. She reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.
“Oh hey, Cherry,” Finn says. “What’s up?”
More giggles float from my mouth—she is named after a fruit.
The girl eyes us with a frown. “Your girlfriend’s silly.”
This makes me laugh so hard that tears run down my cheeks. Finn’s fingers play with strands of my hair while the girl continues to glare at us until her free thumb moves between her lips. With glistening eyes, she lowers her gaze.
“Come on, I’ll get you something to drink, sweetie.” Daliana pulls the girl behind her out of the room.
I wish Finn would kiss me again, but he has struck up a conversation with Tyrone over some rapper who is supposed to be an Oreo. The expression makes me snicker again. Almost every other word he utters is totally hilarious—he’s such a comedian. Even Tyrone has a funny side to him. My stomach soon hurts from all the laughing. My earlier apprehension has totally evaporated as the weed and alcohol cause chaos in my bloodstream.
At some point, Marcel resurfaces and hands me my brand new ID, which still smells like burned plastic. I’m now Jenna Brooks from Florida, born February 12, 1995. And at twenty-one, I am allowed to legally consume alcohol. The driver’s license looks totally genuine, although I have never seen one from outside of Maine and have no comparison. Two crisp twenty-dollar bills change owners before Finn pulls me on my feet.
“Got to go,” he announces, his arm sliding around my waist when I begin to take wobbly steps toward the door. “Great seeing you, man.”
Tyrone waves goodbye to us. Daliana is already back on her knees, fumbling with his zipper. The other couple has vanished. I didn’t even notice when they left.
I keep tripping over my feet on the way to the truck, giggling nonstop while Finn drags me along. One time, we almost fall over after my laughter catches. When we get to the car, we are both out of breath.
I lean against the door. “Kiss me again.”
He rolls a strand of my hair around his finger. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re totally high and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
I frown. What the hell is he talking about? For once, I am happy and enjoying a man’s company. He looks like a delicious apple I want to devour. My hand lands on his groin and slowly rubs over the fabric.
He exhales sharply as his head tilts backward, a groan shaking his frame. I triumph, certain I have convinced him that this is a good idea after all, but just as his body reacts, he catches my wrist.
“Let’s just go dancing, okay?”
His lips are only inches away. I lunge forward, but he turns his head and my mouth collides with his chin. Before I can protest, a loud growl resonates from my stomach.
I’m all of a sudden starving. “Can we get something to eat first?”
He smiles. “Sure. What w
ould you like?”
“French fries.” Drool forms in my mouth at the thought of soft, velvety ice cream melting on my tongue. “And frozen yogurt.” The urge for something salty teases my senses. “And maybe butter popcorn.” Something is missing and I hop from foot to foot. “And caramel, too.”
He chuckles. “I guess we stop at a convenience store and stock up on snack food before going to McDonalds. Sound good?”
I nod enthusiastically. He briefly squeezes my hands before opening the truck door for me. “Okay, let’s start phase two of our night out.”
That makes me giggle again. So far, phase one was a total success.
CHAPTER 9
The sounds, colors, and movements blend into one as I groove to the music with hooded eyes, my arms and legs in harmony with my swaying hips. I’m burning up with a constant buzzing in my head, the world around me vibrating in a surreal dancing light. As a matter of fact, everything appears surreal. It’s like I’ve traded in the troubled, haunted Kelsey for the fun-loving and laid back girl I used to be before my abduction. It’s dreamlike and I love every minute of it.
I have also discovered a new favorite—golden tequila. Together with lime and salt, those are the best shooters ever, and Finn and I have almost killed our first bottle. The fake ID has worked magic. We had no issues getting into the club and the bartender has not once raised an eyebrow when I demanded a refill. I never even imagined that it would be that easy to fool people about my age.
Finn’s fingers intertwine with mine as I continue to sway to the music. Deciding to move in, I tilt my head backward and close my eyes as I grind against him to the rhythm of the song. He plays along, his arm cradling my back when he pulls me closer. He is such a tease. The volcano in the depths of my belly erupts once again as his body reacts to mine, matching the lust in his eyes. He wants me badly and for the first time in three years, I don’t mind at all. Breaking down his reservations and getting laid has become the ultimate goal of the night.