Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series)

by Brannon, M. S.

  Presley and I got them right before her parents died. I was totally against it. I don’t drink or have the desire to go to bars, yet Presley was insistent. She said we needed to start living. She was just out of her hospital stay and it was the happiest I’d seen her. There was no way I could have turned her down.

  We pull into a parking lot of what looks like an old, rundown warehouse. The words The Slab painted sadistically over the entrance. The dripping red words scare the bejesus out of me, and my anxiety increases that much more.

  Exiting the backseat, Presley grabs my hand, trying to comfort me. Where the heck have they taken me? I feel like I’m the sacrificial lamb walking into a cult, ready to get slaughtered.

  The idea of walking into the bar like I’m gracing the red carpet vanishes. Large, tattooed men are standing off to the side of the entrance, smoking cigarettes and laughing. The minute I walk past them, the catcalls start. It makes my worry grow to unimaginable heights. I grab tightly to Presley as Drake drapes his arms around her shoulder.

  The huge, scary looking man takes one look at my ID and gives it back. Once we’ve passed the mammoth at the door, I get my first look at the place Presley says is a lot of fun. I look around, trying to find where the fun is.

  Hard rock music is blasting through the sound system, men of all ages are laughing, playing pool or drowning in the alcohol. Women, on the other hand, are completely shameless. They’re dressed like tramps, throwing themselves at anyone who will pay attention, or they’re rough and looking for a fight. I keep my eyes plastered on the floor as Presley leads us through the crowd.

  We find a seat near the bar and off to the side. It’s much quieter over on this side and it gives me a chance to study my surroundings.

  Drake leaves to get our drinks and I take the opportunity to question Presley about Sulfur Heights. She explains the south side is a horrible place to live and no one seems to care about anything that happens there. I’m finding it impossible to wrap my brain around this. How can a town’s government and population allow such horrible things to happen around them? Regardless of whether they are living on the northside or not, it’s still a city they need to have a vested interested in. Memphis is no fairy tale place, but the crime and lack of concern for a certain demographic does not go unseen. I find it sickening. Not to mention how much Presley’s changed since I’ve seen her last.

  Granted her parents’ death was very traumatic, though she looked better after they died than she does now. She’s been living in Sulfur Heights since the age of sixteen, however now at eighteen, she looks so much more weathered and broken. I really hope her depression is under control. I don’t want to see her like that ever again.

  Drake makes his way back over to our table and our conversation is put behind us; well, for now. I want to know what’s going on with her because she doesn’t look like herself.

  We sit for several minutes, visiting, and I get the opportunity to get to know Drake better. He is an absolute perfect man. Very mature and responsible, and he loves Presley unconditionally. Plus, he’s very cute. She has definitely hit the jackpot on this one. Girls from my country club would be swarming a man like Drake, and adding the taboo of his ethnicity, every girl would treat him like a God.

  The crowd begins to part when I notice Jeremy and his exact replica moving through the crowd. This must be Jake. He oozes bad boy if I’ve ever seen one. His arms are covered in tattoos; he has short brown hair cut almost to his scalp; and a hard, lean body without overly huge muscles. When my eyes meet his, I’m instantly captivated. He stops slightly, intensely taking me in until the smallest grin appears across his face and his gaze travels down to my chest then back up. Yep, on second thought, there’s nothing about him that’s intense; he’s a typical pig.

  Jake

  Coming off two more wins, I will leave tonight a thousand bucks richer. Jeremy comes across the floor, congratulating me on my win. “Drinks are on me, bro,” I say.

  “Yeah, thanks, considering I don’t drink anymore.” Jeremy hasn’t drank since we were juniors in high school. He’s the only person I know who becomes someone else entirely from a sip of booze. It’s best for everyone if he lays off the poison.

  “Oh, yeah! Well, more for me then.” Slapping Jeremy on the back, we move toward the bar.

  Drake’s mug comes into view and then I stop in my tracks. Sitting next to Presley is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s nothing like the girls in this place. Her long, blonde hair makes me want to wrap it around my hand, yanking her neck back. Then I can watch her ocean blue eyes glaze over with pleasure while I suck on those full, perfect tits. Damn!

  “Well, well, well, who do we have here? Because, from what I see, it looks like my night just got better.” I hook her with my eyes and spread my award winning smile across my face. The goddess only rolls her eyes. A challenge—my favorite.

  “Jake, this is my best friend from Memphis. She’s staying with us for the summer,” Presley squeaks out.

  Dammit! Reggie wins this round. “Oh, shit! I thought Reggie was just fucking with me. Looks like I owe him fifty bucks. I didn’t believe him when he told me we were going to have a new roommate.”

  Then she stands and my dick begins to stand as well. This woman is perfection. She’s small, maybe five or so inches shorter than me, but her body is curvy. The perfect hour glass figure is accompanied by flawless skin, a tiny waist and round, full hips. She looks like a fucking Hollywood star. I want to slam her against a wall and feel every inch of her wrapped around me.

  Her hand reaches out to mine and I can’t help noticing how soft her skin is and how sweet she smells. Shit, I’m sounding like a pussy right now. Actually, I sound like Drake right now. “Hi, I’m Delilah St. James. You must be Jake.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart, and I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive to have you as a roommate. What can I get you to drink?”

  Delilah releases my hand and her perfectly tan skin reddens. “Old fashion cherry Coke, please.”

  An old fashion… huh? “What the hell is that?”

  Drake belts out a huge laugh, which confuses me even more. Yep, I’m definitely missing something.

  “Hasn’t anyone here ever heard of it? Coke mixed with cherry grenadine.” Ooh, she’s got a little fire in her. I can’t wait to bring that out.

  I shake my head from its perverted thoughts and focus on what she wants to drink. I’m completely confused. “…and what else?”

  “Nothing, that’s it,” Delilah replies and then she turns around, walking back to her seat.

  My eyes immediately go to her perfectly round ass. I just fucking died! This woman’s body is flawless. She’s not rail thin or filled with silicon or as huge as a truck. She’s sexy and her body is amazing everywhere it needs to be.

  Drink, damn it. Focus on the drink. “No whiskey or rum?”

  “Oh, no, not for me. I don’t drink.”

  What the hell? I release a huge laugh and grab a hold of the table to keep from falling over. “You don’t drink? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, cupcake.”

  The little vixen inside her appears as Delilah stabs me with her eyes. “Why is that so amusing? There are a lot of people who don’t drink.”

  “Yeah, and those people were or are in rehab,” I counter.

  Delilah looks over to my twin drinking water. “He doesn’t drink.”

  I immediately get pissed. If I’m too much for a woman, they always flock to my brother. Jeremy looks just like me, minus the tattoos. He treats chicks the same as I do—bags them and splits—but it’s in a less Jake-like fashion. If I don’t play my cards just right, this little hottie will be fucking my twin instead of me, but I’ll be damned if she’s going to have the last word.

  “Exactly my point, he’s been rehabilitated from booze.” Smoke looks like it’s coming from her ears, she is so lit on fire that I wouldn’t be surprised if she ripped my head from my shoulders.

  Delilah readjusts her
self then clears her throat. “Well, I assure you, Mr. Evans, I am not in rehab nor have I ever been. I do not drink because it only causes people to act like idiots, which leads me to believe that you’ve had several drinks because that is exactly how you’re acting. There is no way a gentleman would question a lady’s choice of whether or not she drinks.”

  Have I mentioned I love a challenge? “Well, lucky for you I’m not a gentleman and I assure you, by the end of the summer, I will have you so hot that the only way you’ll cool off is to take a drink.” Just to piss her off more, I lift her chin, cupping it in my fingers.

  “You’re disgusting.” She crosses her arms over her chest and pulls her head back, getting her chin out of my grasp.

  Now I need to deal with my raging hard-on. I walk away and finally claim the piece of ass waiting for me at the end of the bar.

  Chapter 2

  Jake

  I’m pressing the hot girl from the end of the bar against the wall in Reggie’s office. Her skirt is riding high on her hips and the strap of fabric that used to be her thong is dangling from her ankle. It didn’t take long for me to rip it off and slam her against the sheetrock.

  The whiskey is fueling my energy as I thrust myself into her, but all I’m picturing is my new roommate, Delilah. That woman definitely got under my skin and has me craving to touch her. As I’m fucking the hot brunette, all I can see is blonde. I can’t wait until I wear Delilah down, then I can have her pressed against the wall, making her scream my name.

  As I finish up, I push into her one last time and feel my release. The condom fills as I’m drained of my energy. I lower Miss Fine Ass to the floor and readjust my clothes after tossing the condom in the trash. She shoves her thong in the pocket of her jean skirt and then pulls her cell phone out.

  “Here,” she says, handing me the phone.

  “What’s this for?” I ask while walking toward the door of Reggie’s office, already over this clinging bitch.

  “To program your number. Did you think I was going to let this happen without getting your number? We will definitely need to do this again.” She looks incredibly innocent, and I can’t believe she actually thinks she’s worthy of my digits.

  “Well, I hate to break this to you, darling, but you’re not getting my number. I only give it out to people that I want to have it, and after tonight, I’m good. No need to complicate things.”

  Her face tenses as she glares at me. It never fails. I promise them nothing except an orgasm, however they still think one roll in the hay is going to change my mind, or capture my attention. Think again, ladies. Chicks who are willing to fuck you in bars five minutes after you meet them are not the type of women you get in relationship with—even if that’s what I wanted, which it’s not. All she is and will ever be is a distraction. That’s it, nothing more.

  “What? Are you serious?”

  Okay, I need to slow this down for her. The slutty ones are really not that smart. “You’re not getting my number and I’m not taking yours. This,” I gesture between the two of us with my finger waving back and forth, “is all you’re ever gonna get out of me.”

  I open the door to Reggie’s office and walk back into the crowd just as Gavin shouts last call above the noise of the bar. Darcie has four shots of tequila lined up in front of her then slams four shots in front of me. We toss three of them back, one after the other, and I can feel my buzz coming back.

  A barrage of curse words flies at my neck when Miss Fine Ass walks by and I shrug to Darcie. “Apparently, she was looking for a relationship. I told her otherwise.”

  Darcie belts out a laugh and proceeds to roll her eyes. “You’d think if you didn’t bother getting their name, it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “You’d think.” We clink our forth shot of tequila together and toss it back. I chase it with my beer, looking over to our designated table. By the end of this summer, Delilah’s gonna regret ever meeting me. Just like every single bitch I’ve ever met.

  Darcie slaps my arm, bringing my attention back to her. “Reggie is being an old man and doesn’t want to stay up, but what’d ya say about having a park and rise tonight?” Now that sounds like a good time and a needed distraction. I absolutely love the Evans family park and rise tradition. Basically, it consists of parking your ass in a chair in the middle of the driveway and consuming liquor until the sun rises.

  Reggie got really drunk the night we buried Mom and allowed Jeremy and I to get drunk with him while Drake slammed Mountain Dew. We only had two beers, but I’m sure we both were wasted. Reggie was determined for us to make new memories and leave all the shitty ones we had with our mother behind. He declared we would have new family traditions because, as soon as Mom died, we were an entirely different family.

  Reggie was forced to grow up and take care of his younger brothers. I don’t know what eighteen-year-old would take on that responsibility. I sure as hell don’t know if I could’ve sacrificed everything I’ve ever wanted when I was eighteen. Though, when I think about it, I really didn’t have anything promising going for me when I was eighteen. I was just trying to live life to the fullest. Hmm, some things don’t change.

  As usual, Reggie was right. We’ve learned to survive off each other and have formed a solidarity between the four of us. A bond so strong that nothing could ever break it, which is still as strong as it’s always been. Once Darcie and Presley joined us, our family grew as well as our love of each other. The six of us are as tight as any family around today, maybe even tighter.

  At the time, Jeremy and I were pretty young to be drinking, but Reggie was young himself, and if he was drinking, we all were drinking except Drake. He was babied by Reggie from the moment he moved in with us. He wasn’t allowed to actively participate in park and rise until he was fourteen. At that time, Reggie would only let him have a couple of beers, but by the summer he was fifteen, Drake was getting just as fucked up as me. Jeremy was the loose cannon, though. That fucker would drink until he was stupid and usually blacked out. He was never a happy drunk and it didn’t matter what he consumed—beer, whiskey, vodka—it was all the same; he turned into a monster. Finally, after God knows how many fights and Jeremy getting his skull cracked open, Reggie and Jeremy had a heart to heart. No one knew what was said between the two of them, but whatever happened fixed his ass and Jeremy hadn’t picked up a drink since.

  I look over to Darcie and say, “Park and rise, bitches!”

  ***

  Drake almost kills Darcie when she invites them to drink with us. Apparently, he has better things to do. Presley, I’m sure. I’m disappointed my little cupcake doesn’t want to come, but we’ve only just met and the summer is young. There’s plenty of time for that.

  Three hours later, an eighteen pack of beer is dwindling down to nothing as Darcie and I drink happily in the driveway. The early summer air makes it a perfect night for a park and rise, and the clear sky allows the stars to light up the night.

  Other than Jeremy, Darcie is one of my closest friends. She and Presley are the only females I show any respect toward. We’ve been through so much shit, her and I. Before she decided to be all righteous with Reggie, we’d always find a way to stir up trouble with Jeremy never too far behind. The three of us are as tight as any brothers and sister could be. Plus, Darcie is the female version of me; minus the whore factor. We can talk about anything and everything, and that’s exactly what we do.

  We drink ourselves stupid, debating everything from up and coming drag racers, Reggie’s hair length, and of course, the hottest topic, Delilah. I really don’t remember much of the conversation; beer is a bitch like that.

  Delilah

  Needless to say, the bar has been an interesting experience. After meeting my new roommates, it will be a challenging summer, to say the least. Darcie is full of short, snappy comments whenever she finds the situation appropriate. Honestly, she will be the easiest to deal with. I’ve been raised in the pageant world for much of my younger years and have a barr
acuda for a mother. Nothing she says will bring me down, and for the most part, I am able to refute her comments.

  Then there’s Jake. He is a disgusting excuse for a man. Not because he isn’t good looking, it’s because he’s gorgeous and he knows it. I’m not sure if I’ve made my mind up whether I like the tattoos covering his arms, but he has the most intense, hypnotic brown eyes I’ve laid my eyes on. Combined with his mile long eyelashes, devilish smile and hard body, I can see how the women he seduces are in trouble, however the filth and obscenities that fly out of his mouth are enough to revolt me. It’s a shame God blessed such a conceited pig with such a jaw-dropping hot body. It’s a waste really.

  The vibrant sun is shining brightly at six o’clock in the morning. I lie in bed for as long as I can stand. I’ve never been able to sleep well in a new place and I hope my insomnia is short lived.

  I dress in shorts and a t-shirt then walk to the kitchen, popping open the fridge. Empty. I start opening cupboards and they’re the same as the fridge, empty. There is nothing at all to eat in the house. I make a short list of groceries on a pad of paper I find in the drawer and head outside to find an all-hours market.

  When I walk down the stairs, Jake, Darcie and Jeremy are sitting in lawn chairs surrounded by empty cans of beer. It’s six o’clock in the morning, why haven’t any of them gone to sleep? My gut flinches. I need to get past them to get to my car parked on the street. Then it occurs to me, I have no idea where I am going in this town. I cringe, realizing I need to ask one of them for directions. I really hope it’s Jeremy I get to deal with.

  Hesitantly, I walk over to them, keeping my eyes connected with Jeremy. They’re in a deep discussion about racing, but I summon the nerve to ask. “Hey, guys, can one of you tell me where the nearest market is? I was going to pick up some groceries.”

  Darcie puts her empty can of beer on the concrete and gives me her trademark snotty look. “Is Susie Homemaker gonna make us breakfast?”