Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

  “You’re my world, Samantha. Everything I do, from now until the end of time, I’m going to be doing for you.” I leaned in, kissed her with all the tenderness I felt for her. And that was the thing with this girl. She made me feel good, like just being around her made me part of something greater. Something bigger than all the empty, frivolous ambitions that fueled the thoughts and actions of most of the people I hung out with.

  What used to fuel me.

  Samantha had all these beliefs that there was something greater than just this world that I’d never given much thought to, permitting little time or credit to ideas that seemed so ambiguous. But she had this light about her that I was drawn to, and I saw it in her little brother, too, something different and unique that I’d come to crave. I wanted to see it glow in Stewart when I did or said something that brought him joy, to watch it burn in Samantha when she just sat and appreciated the sky.

  I found myself wanting to contribute to it. Be a part of it.

  Guess there was something in her that made me want to believe.

  She made me better in all those places inside me I’d never really liked. I’d always been a selfish kid. A punk who liked stirring up trouble just for the fun of it, getting a rise out of the people around me purely for my pleasure. Didn’t want to be like that anymore.

  I hugged her again. “We’d better get you home.”

  She nodded like she really didn’t want to go, but she let me help her stand. I resituated her clothes. The deepest blush rushed all over her face as her thoughts so obviously strayed back to ten minutes earlier when we were partaking in things that weren’t all that innocent.

  But this girl was mine and I was hers, and I couldn’t find one thing wrong with that.

  I threaded my fingers with hers. “You ready?”

  Nervousness flitted across her face, and she squeezed my hand. “I think so.”

  “I won’t let her hurt you ever again, Samantha. I promise you.”

  Nodding, she snuggled up to my side. “I know you won’t.”

  I led her across the room, unlocked the door, swung it open.

  Ben Carrington stood on the other side, his fist raised like he was getting ready to pound on the wood. A sneer transformed his face when he saw me standing there.

  The fiercest swell of possessiveness rose inside me, squeezing my lungs about as tight as I squeezed Samantha’s hand. I edged in front of her, like I could cut off the asshole’s view. “What are you doing here?”

  His brow creased and he cocked his head to the side. “What am I doing here? I think the better question is what is Samantha doing here?”

  “She’s with me.”

  He scoffed. “Yeah. And do her parents know that?”

  Samantha wriggled out from behind me, still clutching my hand but moving toward Ben. I wanted to yank her back. “Just… don’t, Ben. You always make things a bigger deal than they are. Christopher was just taking me home.”

  “Really? Because it seems like a pretty big deal to me when you’re at a party, locked in a room with this piece of shit, when you’re supposed to be at home asleep in your bed.”

  Panic shook her, and she took a pleading step forward. “Please, you can’t tell them.”

  Frustration billowed from the sigh he released toward the ceiling, as if he were dealing with a disobedient kid. He set his hands on his hips. “Did I make you a promise, Samantha? I told you before I wouldn’t tell them. And I won’t. But what I won’t tolerate is you sneaking out with this asshole. I can’t even believe you’re here. I’m really disappointed in you.”

  She hung her head in shame, chewing at her lip while she stared at her feet.

  My fist curled. I wanted nothing more than to mash the guy in the face. He knew nothing about her, nothing about her dreams and desires, that she needed a little freedom to figure out who she was and what she wanted to be.

  So no, bringing her here wasn’t my best idea.

  But he was acting like she’d just robbed a bank.

  “She’s fine.” The words came out with a challenge.

  “Doesn’t look that way to me.” He gestured with his chin to Samantha, whose clothes were still all damp, her hair tangled, more from my fingers twisted in it than anything else, but he sure as hell didn’t need to know that.

  “I was just taking her home.”

  He shook his head. “Wrong. I’m taking her home.”

  I bristled and took a step forward, just hating the bastard. What it was about him, I didn’t know, but he rubbed me wrong in every kind of way. The way he treated Samantha like a little girl but looked at her like he wanted to eat her. Nah, he wasn’t all that much older than us, but something about him was off. Like he got off on her cowering to his will.

  I smiled when this time she didn’t. “No, Ben, you’re not taking me home. Christopher is. And we’re leaving. I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

  In irritation, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he gulped down whatever thoughts he was having. “No more of this,” he warned her, but his tone was soft, like he was trying to convince her of what was best for her. “You don’t belong here, and I don’t want to hear about you sneaking out with him again.”

  She nodded, then pulled at my hand.

  Every part of me wanted to turn around and put him in his place. But Samantha didn’t view him the way I did. Clearly she revered him on some level, respected his position with her family, appreciated his words.

  I didn’t trust him for a second.

  I slipped my arm around Samantha’s waist, glanced back at Ben right before we hit the top of the stairs. Smug, he stood there with his arms across his chest, like he held a straight flush and had just laid down his hand.

  Protectively, or maybe it was just to rub it in, I pulled Samantha closer, and she buried her face in my side when we hit the stairs. That protectiveness lifted and rose, rumbling like a storm in my chest as I led her back down into the depravity of the scene where I never should have brought her.

  I could give Ben that much.

  Samantha didn’t belong here.

  Beauty shouldn’t be exposed to trash like this.

  With my free hand, I guarded her face when we were met with all the curious stares. Jasmine leaned against the wall. When we walked by, her mouth coiled with a satisfied smirk, making her look like the snake she was.

  She didn’t dare say a word, because I was pretty damned sure she knew from my expression I would have snapped.

  Outside, the night had grown deep, the air crisp and cool. Chills flashed across Samantha’s skin.

  “Damn it.” I wrapped both my arms around her in an effort to get her warm. “I should have found you a change of clothes before I brought you back out.”

  She smiled up at me, her face aglow, illuminated in the half-moon. “I’m perfect, Christopher.” She turned her face toward it. “Even after everything, tonight was kind of amazing, wasn’t it?”

  I chuckled, dropped a kiss to her forehead. God, yes. Fucking incredible. “You’re amazing.”

  “You just love me, so you’re blind,” she teased, knocking her hip into mine while she walked.

  I hugged her close. “Not blind… but the love thing you got down pat.”

  I helped her into my car and drove the two miles to her neighborhood. I parked at the head of her street, cut the lights, and went around to meet her at the door. Our footsteps were subdued as we made our way toward her house so I could sneak her safely back through her window. Same way I’d done what felt like a million times before.

  But tonight the lights weren’t all dimmed. Every light in the house blazed through the windows. Samantha gasped when she saw her mom standing on the sidewalk in her robe, her arms crossed over her chest, clinging to herself as if she were trying to protect herself from an outcome she didn’t want to face.

  “Mom.” Samantha started to run for her, her sandals smacking on the pavement, fear in her voice. “Is Stewart okay?”

  Her
mom jerked her head up. Relief flashed across her face, which had already been stained with tears. “Yes, yes, Stewart’s fine. Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been worried sick about you.” She hugged Samantha, then pushed her back, holding her by the tops of her arms, and that relief twisted to anger.

  Five feet away, I stopped. Panic surged.

  “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through tonight? I went in your room and you weren’t there… I… I thought something terrible had happened to you.” Her mouth trembled. “Don’t you think we have enough stress, enough worries with your brother? And you’re going to put us through this?”

  “Momma,” Samantha begged with desperate apology in her voice. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  The front door opened, and her father stepped out behind them. He shut the door with a low click. Probably an inch or two shorter than me, he was still tall, but he was also thin, his build unthreatening. Even the way he carried himself was unassuming, modest and simple, his head held in a permanent bow.

  But it was the silent rage brewing in his eyes that told me I had every right to be scared.

  Shit.

  I wet my lips, having no idea what to say, because I’d just been caught red-handed with his daughter. Samantha had lied up and down about the two of us, swearing we were nothing more than friends so I could get into their house and have those few hours with Stewart in the afternoons, so I could be at her side, tortured with not being able to touch her, but satisfied in knowing I’d be alone with her soon.

  It was blatantly obvious there wasn’t a lie in the world that could get us out of this.

  Her father’s voice was cold. “Go inside, Samantha.”

  “Dad,” she pled, reaching for him.

  He stopped her with a disappointed hand. “Do not argue with me, Samantha. There is nothing left for you to say. Now, go inside and to your room. You’re going to be in it for a very long time.”

  Dread knotted in my stomach, and I chanced a step forward. “Please, Mr. Schultz. It was my fault.”

  His attention jerked to me. “Yes, I completely agree with you. This is one hundred percent your fault. My daughter was always obedient until the day she started spending time with the likes of you. You think I haven’t seen the way she’s changed in the last few months? All of it’s your fault.”

  Samantha’s mom heaved out a sob and her hand flew to her mouth. “Have you been drinking?”

  Flustered, Samantha frowned. “What? No, of course not.”

  I saw the second it dawned on Samantha’s face. The fucking beer that slut had dumped on her had soiled her clothes with the stink of alcohol.

  This just got worse and worse.

  Samantha’s mom clearly mistook the shift in Samantha’s expression as some kind of guilt. “I’m done with all the lies, Samantha. No more. It ends now.” She pointed between me and Samantha. “All of it. It ends now.”

  Stumbling back, Samantha shook her head in short, furious jerks. “No.”

  Her father answered for her mother. “You have no say in this. You’ve already proven you can’t be trusted. You made the choice to disobey and now you have to face the consequences.”

  She swung around, her fist pounding at her chest. “What choice? You never gave me the choice! You give me no freedom at all… no room to experience life, no room to make mistakes. This isn’t fair!”

  I took a step forward, my hand extended toward her, knowing she was only making it worse. “Samantha… baby, don’t.”

  Mr. Schultz pushed her behind him, his angry words directed at me. “She’s not your concern.”

  He was completely wrong. She was my only concern.

  He looked at his wife. “Sally, take her inside and see that she gets changed into some warm clothes.”

  Mrs. Schultz nodded and shuffled forward, nudging Samantha toward the door. In yearning, Samantha looked back at me. Fear and worry were etched all over her sweet face.

  And it hurt watching her disappear inside, because I knew with every fiber of my being, nothing was ever going to be the same.

  Frantic, I pushed Samantha up against the hard brick wall.

  She hit it with a grunt. Frenzied hands slipped down my sides and under my shirt, almost as fevered as my hands that sought out every exposed inch of her skin.

  I plastered the length of my body against hers, desperate to feel her. “God… I miss you.”

  What I wouldn’t give to kiss her slowly. To savor that sweet mouth I craved like nothing else. To have the time to tell her she meant more to me than anything else in this world.

  But we didn’t have time.

  We had five fucking minutes.

  And I wasn’t slowing down.

  I assaulted her mouth. Every piece of me was coming unhinged, this consuming want tearing through my senses.

  “Christopher,” she cried when I pulled back a fraction, and I descended on her with more intensity than before.

  In the last two weeks, I’d barely seen her. Glimpses of each other were all we’d been given, shadows and seconds stolen in the hidden corners at school. Her parents had even made her transfer out of the one class we shared.

  It was complete bullshit.

  But Samantha’s sin was spending time with me, and they were seeing to it that she repented.

  Two minutes earlier, when I saw her walking out the cafeteria doors, I’d hauled her behind the building, the area obscured by tall, thick shrubs.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered harshly at her mouth, unsure who I was promising.

  I just knew it had to be.

  I deepened the kiss, my tongue slipping between her lips. Warmth skimmed my insides when she returned the kiss, but in a tender, soft way, with a sadness that weakened my knees. I cupped her cheeks and eased away, this time promising her. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Anguish brimmed in those blue eyes, and she swallowed like she didn’t want to speak. “No… it’s not.”

  I kissed her harder. “Yes, it will.”

  She began to shake her head. “No, it’s not.” Tears streaked down her face and into the palms of my hands. “We’re moving.”

  I jerked back. “What?”

  She chewed at her bottom lip, and for the first time the act didn’t send my thoughts straying toward sex. Instead I wanted to weep. “What?” I asked again, a rock sinking to the pit of my stomach.

  “My parents put our house up for sale. Stewart is officially in remission. They said they want to make a fresh start.”

  Anger and resentment ballooned in my chest. They accused Samantha of being dishonest? Of being a liar? Right. There was no doubt in my mind that this had nothin’ to do with Stewart. This was all about stealing this girl away from me.

  “They’re taking me away from you, Christopher.” She knew it, too.

  “Where?” The word dropped from my mouth like a stone.

  “Somewhere across town. They haven’t decided exactly yet.”

  Distorted relief pelted me. Across town. That I could handle, and I needed to hang on to something. I forced a hopeful smile, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip. “Hey, that’s not so bad. We can figure it out.”

  “Why are they doing this to us?” Her voice was a pained whisper.

  I dropped my forehead to hers. “They’re just trying to protect you from what they don’t understand, Samantha.”

  From what I really didn’t understand.

  “There’s not anything that will keep me away from you,” I said, the frenzy silenced, and instead I pulled her into my arms, hugged her, refusing to let her go. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing,” she whispered back.

  When you’re young, you think the world is yours to take. When in reality, the world is just lying in wait, holding out for the perfect opportunity to show you that it’s going to take everything from you.

  It takes time to build something good. Effort. That effort I’d been so shocked I wanted to put in when I first started things up with Sa
mantha.

  But it takes only one second to destroy it all.

  Over the last four months, I’d watched while everything important to me was stripped away.

  While I sat helpless.

  Fucking powerless to do anything to stop it.

  When it rains, it pours, and all that shit.

  But it hadn’t just poured.

  It was a torrential flood.

  One week after Samantha told me she was moving, I got a call from my dad to come straight home.

  I was busy being a punk, figuring out how the hell to get alcohol for the party we’d been planning all week. If I didn’t get to spend time with my girl, then at least I’d had this to look forward to. It was supposed to be something special for my best friend, who was turning sixteen.

  For months, I’d given him crap that he was just a kid, fifteen, teasing him that I had to drive his sorry ass around.

  Of course, he’d turned around and tossed it right back at me, rubbing it in that my girl was younger than him by four weeks. If he was nothing but a kid, then that made me some kind of creepy perv for touching her.

  We both knew those three months really didn’t matter.

  But what we didn’t realize was how much one moment did.

  All it took was one moment to change everything.

  Ruin it all.

  Jared was driving back from getting his license and cut in front of an oncoming truck.

  His mom, Helene, was killed. Jared was critically injured.

  For an entire week, I’d sat beside his hospital bed, silently begging him to live and wishing Samantha could somehow be at my side. I’d needed her there, to let me know everything was going to be okay the way I’d promised her it would be. Needed her to let me know I wasn’t alone. That no matter what shit we had to make it through, we’d make it.

  But Samantha never came, and even when Jared recovered, he never really woke up. Yeah, he breathed and his heart still beat, but guilt had robbed him of everything else.

  Inside, Jared was dead, and somehow that managed to kill some part of me.

  Helene had been like family, my mom’s best friend, our families best friends. When we lost her, everyone and everything fell apart. My parents became distant, not because they didn’t care, but because the wind had been knocked from them. Depressed, my mom had struggled to find her own feet, to figure out how to breathe again, and my dad was desperate to help her find her way.