by R. J. Lewis
“A little. I do a lot of sketches, mostly. Just in a stupid notebook I carry around. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Marcus frowned at the way she brushed it off. “I’m curious to know why you dive straight into rubbishing your work.”
She tapped her fingers along his chest in thought and sighed. “I was brought up to stay away from creative arts. My father calls it a waste of time, and he used to get angry when I told him I wanted to pursue art after high school.”
“He sounds like a dick.”
She laughed again. “He’s a micromanager, and he means well, I know that. But he’s also a judge and he’s scary as hell to most people. Anyway, I’m kind of bumbling around right now. I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve taken a bunch of classes in Biological sciences, but it’s nothing to get the heart pumping over.”
“If it’s not your passion, it will never get your heart pumping.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, despondently. “You’re right. Life’s hard. I mean, I know I have more than most, but it’s still hard trying to make another person happy and losing yourself in the process. Anyways, I won’t go all philosophical on you or anything.”
“You mean artsy-fartsy on me.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled. “That.”
“I like it.”
That just made her sag further into him, and he could see himself hearing her talk like this all the time, though it was silly to even think about.
“Let me know a little about you,” she then said. “I want to know. I’ve always wanted to know.”
He held up a few of her long silky strands, letting it run between his fingers as he thought about what to say. Was there even a way to positively answer that?
“Nothing really to know,” he settled with quietly. “I’m just a normal guy on the other side of the tracks.”
She didn’t need to hear about his abusive father, and his uncaring mother. Or the fact he’d been kicked out of his home at fifteen with nothing but a backpack and a bag of M&Ms. Or that poverty had him turning to street crime just so he could rub a few pennies together for a hot meal. Now his life had been hard, but he didn’t care much to explore it out loud to a girl that would probably never understand that, and he hoped she’d never have to.
She didn’t pry for a better response, and he appreciated that. Kate seemed to respect boundaries, and fuck, he wanted her to break them down instead. She changed subjects, and he listened to her sweet voice, offering responses just to hear her talk. They spoke for what felt like hours, and then her words trailed off, and she fell asleep in his arms.
Three
Marcus
A nudge on his shoulder stirred him awake. He opened his eyes slowly and stared up at Kate in the dark. She was standing beside the edge of the couch, completely dressed and holding her purse with one hand.
“Sorry to wake you, but I have no way of getting home,” she told him. “I was hoping you’d drop me off.”
He inhaled sharply and looked around in search of a clock. “What time is it?”
“Almost five.”
Fucking hell, it was way too early. “I’ll drop you off in a bit, babe. How about you lay down with me for a while first and we’ll grab some breakfast once we’re out?”
Her hands nervously tugged at the strap of her purse. “I’d love breakfast with you and all but…I can’t stay. My father is meant to come around at seven for our ritual Sunday breakfast, and if he finds out I’m not there…” she paused and sighed.
“What happened to not caring tonight?” he replied light-heartedly.
She didn’t smile in return. Instead, her nerves grew. “I can just take a bus then, or something. I won’t make you get up, that’s not fair of me, and it’s so early –”
“Fuck no,” he interrupted, sitting up now and rubbing at his tired eyes. “I’m just kidding. Not gonna have a girl like you riding public transport on this side of town. I’ll get my keys and we’ll go.”
Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Marcus. I appreciate it.”
He stared up at her for a moment, taking in her just fucked look she still wore, and felt himself smile. “Did you think I’d be some jerk? That I’d kick you out or something?”
She shrugged, biting at her bottom lip. “I didn’t know what to expect, to be honest. I’ve never done this before.”
“Don’t do it again,” he found himself saying straightaway. He didn’t know why he said it, either. The girl could do whatever the hell she wanted to, but fuck, he knew she was worth so much more than just a one night screw.
She looked at him strangely, and he cleared his throat and quickly added, “You know, there are crazy people out there around here. You don’t know the kind of person you’d end up in bed with.”
“I guess I got lucky.” Her mouth spread out into a wide smile as she said this and he felt that smile burn into him. His chest stirred at her raw beauty. He stood up and tried to shake away his intense attraction to her. She wanted him for one night, and he strangely felt used for once, and it wasn’t all that great of a feeling.
Avoiding her eye, he snagged the keys off the table and said, “Let’s take your beautiful little ass home.”
*
Kate wouldn’t turn her face away during the forty minute ride to her apartment building. Those green eyes were piercing, and he loved the burn he felt when she stared at him.
“I’m this building right here,” she told him, pointing out her place.
He stopped the car in front of a tall modern apartment building. He watched her slowly gather her purse and tighten the straps of her heels on her feet. It looked like she was stalling by the amount of time she took, and he saw the familiar nerves running through her system before she finally opened her purse and removed a slip of paper and pen.
Amused, he watched her scribble what he knew would be her number.
“I know that you probably get this a lot,” she said quietly, avoiding his eye and suddenly itching to get out of there, “but… you know, I had a great night and all, and… if you ever wanted to call, or anything, or…” she paused and her cheeks reddened as she held out the slip of paper.
He took the paper from her hand. “Sure thing.”
She shot him a quick smile. “Okay, well, good night, or…good morning, actually, and I’ll see you soon, or talk to you soon, or that’s up to you –”
“You’ll hear from me,” he told her. “I promise.”
She stopped and stared at him, that hopeful look cutting through his insides like a sharp blade. He’d never been given that look before. He’d been given phone numbers in the past, but it was in passing and without much care. Kate had done it as though she was itching for more of him. Maybe it wasn’t just a one night stand then. Maybe she was seriously interested. And fuck, he was interested too. He liked that look too much. Liked the warm feeling it gave his empty insides.
Without thinking, he leaned over and took her face gently into his hand and pressed his mouth against her lips. Immediately her hand moved up his chest and around his neck. She kissed him back with an intensity he didn’t expect, deepening it as she opened her mouth to him. She moaned softly as he flicked his tongue against hers, and god, he’d fuck her again, right here and now, if he could.
He pulled back instead, and his blood was on fire and his eyes were wide. Fuck, he loved the taste of her. She stared back at him, her lust apparent.
“Now get inside,” he told her, fighting to steady his voice.
She nodded and pulled away.
He watched her open the door and step out of the car. She was a little wobbly and he smiled at the obvious effect he had on her. He kept staring until her slender tall body disappeared into the apartment building, stopping once to look back at him, that look of enchantment still adorning her face.
Marcus had to collect his thoughts when she was out of view. His heart was beating hard in his chest. He liked the girl. Had liked her the first time he’d been discr
eetly selling product at her campus. He’d seen her rushing from one building to the next with her textbooks pressed against her chest, and he’d smiled even then at her flushed beauty. You just knew she was a fucking sweet girl, and he’d been right. She was.
He’d never talked to a girl for so long before. She wanted to be cuddled, wanted to be touched and shown care, as if she’d been deprived of it like he had all his life. But he knew she hadn’t. A girl like her would have been given the proper care and love she deserved, while kids like he had been once were neglected and made to fend for themselves.
The entire evening had been amazing and that actually depressed him on his way home. He lived in another world, would never have the means to give a woman of her league the kind of lifestyle her daddy obviously did. And while he’d fucked girls that came from the same places she did, they weren’t nearly as genuine or as sweet as her. They simply got what they wanted and moved on, their hunger for a thrill with a rougher man on the other side of the tracks satiated.
He stared up in awe at the apartment high rises as he drove. There was a lot of money around here. More than he could ever dream of making. He would never be able to live here, even if he saved ‘til he was seventy. He was a loser, a goddamn nobody with zero means and a million fucking problems. He was destined to fade into obscurity, back on his side of the tracks, and any day he’d get caught for his crimes and those cuffs would wrap around his wrists where they belonged and take him away. He almost hoped for that to happen just so he wouldn’t have to try so hard to survive in this world any longer.
He’d fade away in Kate’s thoughts in a few days when she reflected back on his nasty couch in his nasty apartment. She’d realize she could have more than that, and he’d be a forgotten memory, maybe touched upon with shame throughout the years. He nodded to himself at the thought, figuring she’d probably end up with some lawyer her father would approve of. She’d become a career woman in a powerful relationship, then she’d buy a house and pop out a couple kids and never wonder of him again.
Marcus continued looking out the window, taking in the change of scenery as he went. From skylines and thriving businesses to shitty storefronts and crumbling houses. This was his reality, harsh and cold, empty and incomplete. Normally it didn’t bother him. He’d knock back the alcohol and the coke to numb his surroundings. But he was fucking sober as a nun right now, and shit felt horrible. Reality felt like a punch to the face. Sure, he could get laid easily, but he couldn’t keep a girl if his life depended on it.
It was still dark, and he was only a few blocks from his apartment at a stop light when he spotted a figure. It was a young dark haired girl no older than fifteen, and she appeared to be in a hurry, walking hastily down the empty sidewalk across from him, clutching the strap of her backpack in one hand and looking over her shoulder every couple seconds. He followed her line of sight and it took him a few moments to understand why. A guy in a hoodie half a block away followed in her steps, moving equally as fast in an effort to catch up.
Marcus waited impatiently for the light to turn green. His knee bobbed up and down as his sights remained on the girl. When she rounded a corner out of sight, he felt a cold feeling run down his spine. The guy in the hoodie started to round the corner too, picking up his pace before he disappeared out of view.
Shit.
Fucking shit.
The streets were still deserted. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning. Typical of his neighbourhood to still be sleeping. Bunch of intentionally unemployed drugged-up bastards, like him.
“Just turn fucking green already,” Marcus growled at the light.
The second it did, he pressed down on the gas and his sedan sped down the street, turning the same corner the girl did. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, unsure of what he’d find as he went.
Then it hit him like a bucket of ice had settled into the pit of his stomach. The girl’s backpack was on the ground and she was feet away, her back flush against the front of the man. She didn’t make a sound, and he found it odd, until the man turned just slightly in his direction, and Marcus saw the hand over her mouth as he began dragging her into a nearby alleyway.
Without thinking, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out his pocketknife. He usually kept it on him in case some dickhead tried to car jack him, but with Kate close last night, he didn’t want to carry any weapon in case she noticed it and got spooked. He left the car running as he stepped out and hurried to the alleyway they were in. He slowed down just as he approached it, and peeked his head into the pocket of darkness.
“Just stop moving,” the man’s voice hissed as he shoved her up against the wall.
“Fuck you,” she snapped against his hand.
“This doesn’t have to be a fight. Just stop moving and we’ll be done.”
But the girl wouldn’t stop moving. She flailed her body around, and then the man suddenly howled out in pain. His hand dropped from her mouth, shaking it in pain from the bite she’d given him.
“You fucking bitch!” he growled, slamming her face against the brick wall. She cried out, but kept fighting. “Fucking bitch!”
Anger flooded Marcus as he moved in, opening his knife. It was a fast blur of events. He grabbed the man by the hood and pulled him back, shoving his weight off the girl. The man was still holding her hair, and as he got shoved back, she fell back with him, landing over his body. She struggled to get free, and by then Marcus had knelt down and set the knife on the man’s throat, causing him to completely stiffen to the ground.
“Let her go,” he demanded the piece of shit.
The man immediately did, and the disoriented girl crawled to the wall to catch her breath.
“I let her go,” the man told him, raising his arms up in surrender. “End of story now. I’ll go.”
“I don’t fucking think so,” Marcus retorted.
He was just a puny man compared to Marcus, but he would have easily taken the tiny girl down, and exerting that control over a defenceless woman set Marcus off. He pulled the man up to his feet easily and took his mangled hair into his grip. The man fought, but he was overpowered as Marcus brought him to the same spot he’d smashed the girl’s face against.
“You like hurting girls?” Marcus asked him. “Well, I like hurting pieces of shit like you.”
The man let out a cry before his face got smashed into the wall, painting the brick in red blood and flesh. Instead of stopping there, Marcus did it again, harder than before, and it was always in these moments, when he was up against another man, he felt a buzz unlike anything else. It was a mixture of anger and adrenaline merged into one, and he felt unstoppable. Nothing could distract him. He needed that buzz like his next breath, and it was intoxicating the way it flowed through his bloodstream, making him hazy on that dreamlike high.
After that second slam, the man’s body went limp and Marcus let go of him. Knocked unconscious, he collapsed to the ground. The buzz quickly died off in Marcus soon after. He stepped over him and saw the girl standing now, looking down at the mangled body with empty eyes. He paused right then and there as he watched her. She was a striking young girl. Very tiny with jet black hair and dark eyes. When he spotted the blood on her face, he approached her slowly.
“You alright?” he asked.
She looked away from the body and up at him. “Of course I’m alright,” she retorted angrily. “What a stupid thing to ask.”
His jaw nearly dropped from surprise. What the fuck? “Don’t give me attitude, girl. I just saved you.”
“I didn’t need your help.”
What in the fuck? “What in the fuck?”
Brushing her hair out of her face, she turned and sped out of there. He followed straight away, hardly believing what he was hearing. Here he thought she would be fraught with trauma over the attack, and yet she walked away unhindered by it!
“Are you having some kind of post trauma reaction that’s going the opposite way or some shit?” he asked her. “Are yo
u in denial that you were about to get raped?”
She ignored him as she grabbed her backpack off the ground. She picked it up the wrong way and her contents fell out of the unzipped compartment, landing in a scattered heap on the ground. She cursed and bent down, picking up her things hastily.
Marcus knelt down too, grabbing at a few things of which she angrily ripped out of his grip.
“I don’t need your help,” she practically spat at him. “I’d appreciate it if you just fucked off.”
“Just another snotty little teen, huh?” he countered, uncaring about her demand. He grabbed at her shit and stuffed it in her bag. “A fucking thanks wouldn’t kill, princess.”
She paused and scowled at him. He tensed at the blood that was literally covering half of her face. She looked almost sinister and beautiful…very fucking beautiful.
“I’m not a princess,” she bitterly said. “I’m a hood rat. Just like you.”
He was too speechless to respond, and his lips flinched upwards involuntarily, enjoying her attitude. He forced himself to look away from her haunted eyes as he grabbed at her opened wallet. He saw her student ID, saw the school she went to and would quickly forget the name of, and then her name.
“Emma Warne,” he muttered. “Fourteen years old. What the fuck have you been up to all night, alley cat?”
“None of your business,” was her reply as she snatched the wallet out of his hand and stuffed it in her bag.
“Do you have a family?”
No response.
Marcus huffed in exasperation, moving closer to her. “Where do you live? Fuck sake, let me help you, Emma.”
Just as he went to touch her arm, she pulled out a switchblade from her pocket and quickly backed away, holding it firmly in her grip, warning him with the dark threatening look in her eyes not to come closer.
“Like I said,” she gritted out, “I didn’t need your help.”
Never having suspected the girl was armed, Marcus stared at her in awe.
“Even with that blade, you would have needed help,” he gently told her, probing her face, wondering who the fuck this girl was.