by Arie Lane
Here I am feeling like a shmuck thinking my childhood sucked. At least I had someone who thought I hung the moon, for a while anyway. As if she can read my mind, my little Spitfire gets all wide eyed, jumps a bit sideways on the couch, and chimes in, “Tell me about your family Tristan?” It sounds more like a plea than a question, the way she asks.
It is a loaded question, but the longing in her eyes tells me she needs to hear more of a fairy tale than my reality, so I do the unspeakable. I lie to her. It’s something I will come to regret later, but they always say hindsight is 20/20.
I tell her what I think she wants to hear. It isn’t a complete lie, just some sugar coating, but I omit a truth she should hear. “My mother died during childbirth.” As I say the words, her small gasp matches the lump in my throat. I don’t like talking about my mother. I was told stories all my life about how great she was, how loving she was, by everyone who ever got to meet her. I was cheated. I never got to meet this wonderful, loving woman who gave her life in exchange for mine.
I take a deep breath before I continue, “My dad wasn’t around all that much. He worked a lot of long hours and was often gone on business. When he was home, though, it was pretty awesome. We would travel around a few times a year. I was able to visit some amazing places, but he missed the everyday things.”
I let a sigh out before I continue, “I had Aggie, though. She was my nanny for as long as I can remember. She couldn’t have children of her own so she spoiled me instead. When I was four her husband passed away, and she moved in with us. My dad came home less and less after that, but he would make up for it by always bringing me home some awesome new toy or exciting new game. She and I spent endless hours playing board games and watching old slapstick comedies. When I was nine, Aggie’s sister fell ill and she decided to go stay with her.” I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and think carefully before I continue.
I choose my words carefully, though I’m not sure if it is really more for her sake or my own. I don’t want her sympathy, and I definitely don’t want her pity. More than anything, I don’t want to see her any more broken than she already is. That is the truth I use to convince myself that I am doing the right thing, when I leave out the defining moments of my childhood.
“My father took an office position so he would be home, but he still worked late nights. Since he didn’t think I was old enough to be left home alone, he hired a babysitter. I use the term loosely, though. She was nothing more than a teenager with big tits and no brains. He would always make these little comments about her, and would ask her to stick around even after he got home. Anyway, that’s about it. That’s my family.” I know I cut out some crucial details, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore than I think she really wants to hear it.
I am done thinking about my asshole father and his bimbo, so I turn the tables on her. “What about your family, Bentley, what were they like?” I ask.
I watch as her face turns a ghostly shade of pale, her voice cracking as she speaks. “Great, my family was really great. Cora and I were really close. She was my best friend in the world. My parents were always pretty great. We did a lot together as a family, always off on some new adventure. It was great. I had a fantastic childhood.”
If she uses great one more time, I think I might actually freak the fuck out. I have had enough of her covering for her shitty fucking family. I have to end this charade. “Cut the crap, Bentley, I know damn well your family sucks ass. They all treated you like shit. I know Cora was a nasty bitch who always threw her looks and popularity in your face. She constantly shit on you up until the day you two graduated high school. I know, Electra told me. She was a bitch who treated you worse than dog shit on her shoes.
“I know your father is a lush who became best friends with Jim Beam when you were just a kid. I know how your mom used to beat the hell out of you often, and for no good reason. I know the one time you told someone they didn’t believe you, and she put a steak knife through your hand to make sure you never opened your mouth again. I know the psycho bitch threatened to make you disappear. She said as much when she showed up at the hotel after you left. So cut the bullshit, Bentley, and stop lying to me. I know exactly how fucked up your family is.”
I sit perfectly still as I watch her eyes flood with tears. I want nothing more in this moment than to wrap her in my arms and just hold her tight. I want to assure her I’ll keep her safe, but to her I am still nothing, and right now I’m sure she couldn’t trust me any less.
Chapter 7
Bentley
I don’t even know what to say. I’m at a complete loss for words. How could he possibly know all of that? No single person has all of those details. No one has ever been around long enough to know all of my secrets. Even Dante doesn’t know about my relationship with Cora. He always assumed it was sunshine and roses.
Dante, oh my fucking hell. It was Dante, some of those things… he’s the only person I ever told. He’s the only person I ever trusted. Dante, my best friend, betrayed me. He betrayed my trust. He swore to never tell a fucking soul, and he goes and tells a stranger. He has told all of my darkest secrets to someone I know less than the homeless man on the corner who I bring lunch to throughout the week. How? Why would he do that to me? How did he and Dante even meet? So many questions are running through my head that I’m dizzy from trying to keep up with them all.
And Cora, he must have heard about her through Ele. Brilliant, now I have no one left in this wretched world I can rely on. There is no one left I can trust. I can’t even think coherently between the shock and my anger of knowing this man now knows more about me than anyone in the world. Well almost, the only other being the one who put me through my living hell. I never planned on sharing my nightmare, and now here I am having it thrown in my face. Instead of being relieved someone knows the shit I’ve lived, I’m pissed. I am utterly and completely devastated by what is now the greatest loss of trust I’ve ever known. Dante chose to put his faith in a complete stranger, and to put my weakest moments in the hands of some ass with an ego the size of Texas.
“Now it makes so much fucking sense. Now I get it. So what, you’re here to gloat? You came all this way to track me down just to see how fucked in the head I really am? Did you just want to know if the rumors are true? ‘Poor little Bentley, she locked herself away in her little home, away from the world. Poor little Bentley, the girl lost her mind after her sister’s disappearance.’ Is that why you’re here, Tristan, to see just how much my family really fucked me up? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but as you can see I’m not some head case with twenty cats who collects newspapers and spray paints over my windows so no one can see in,” I say sarcastically, while I gauge his reaction.
He starts fucking laughing and the rage hits me like a boiling point. Before I can process my own actions, I’m straddling his lap. I can feel the vibrations running through my hand as the slap echoes across his face. Realizing what I’ve done I quickly try to vacate his lap, but he’s fastened his hands firmly to my waist. “Let me fucking go, asshole, and get out of my house. No one gave you the right to go prying through my past. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but it’s none of your damn business. And just for the record, I loved my sister. Sure, she may not have been easy to live with as a kid, but we had grown thick as thieves that last year together,” I say as I dig my nails into his hands, pushing them away from me.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, and I’m not here to see how fucked up you are. I didn’t come here because I give two shits about some bullshit fucking rumors. I don’t give a damn if you really are crazy, Spitfire. I came here for you. So you can keep that shit up all you want, but you aren’t pushing me away. I’m a lot harder to get rid of than you think, and I quite like my ass parked right here on this comfy couch of yours. I especially like having you straddled up against my cock, so no I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”
It hadn’t even registered with
me that I was still sitting on his lap. Although at the moment, it is rather convenient seeing how I want to strangle him. As I shift to lift off of him, I move my knee between his legs and grind down hard. I am rewarded with a painful grunting he tries hard to suppress.
Once I am on my feet I head to the door, figuring he’ll take the hint. He just sits there with that shit eating grin on his face. Huffing out a curse under my breath, I speak up, “You need to leave. I don’t really know why you’re here, but in case you haven’t realized you aren’t welcome. I don’t want whatever it is you think is going on, so get up off my couch, Asshat, and walk your happy ass right out my door.”
He stands up and smiles even bigger, as a small indication I haven’t really won this battle. I stand unmoving as he approaches me. I can feel his breath against my neck as he whispers in my ear, “I’ll leave tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Oh, and I’ll tell Dante you said hi, Love, since I’m staying with him until I get settled in.”
I watch in furious admonition as he walks down to the driveway and gets into his car. I am beyond livid when he really does pull into Dante’s and heads inside. What the fuck just happened? At what point did my best friend go totally dick on me, and what the hell did he mean “settled in?” Hell to the no, is he staying anywhere fucking near me! I don’t need that shit on a daily basis. My security system isn’t built to withstand against that moron’s antics. While little warning bells are going off in my head, the idiotic organ in the middle of my chest is beating to its delight. Nope, not going there. I refuse to have any part in whatever stupid games that Asshat is playing.
Tristan
Seeing the look on Bentley’s face when I tell her I am staying with Dante is nothing short of fucking fantastic. I don’t know why I get joy out of catching her off guard, but seeing her get all riled up is a beautiful thing. Her eyes get big, her lips purse, and she blushes like a schoolgirl. It’s sexy as fuck, and the best part is that she hasn’t got a damn clue, and still allows me to push her buttons. I swear, if she had any idea the reaction she stirs in me, she probably wouldn’t give me half the hell she does. But I love every fucking minute of it, so she’ll never hear that shit from me. It is pretty cool of Dante, though, to let me crash at his place. I’ll let her stew over the news that I’ll be staying.
It actually couldn’t have happened at a better time. I was looking for an excuse to move out of that damn condo, and what better excuse than a sexy Spitfire in distress? I’m not about to go all Romeo, proclaiming love or any shit like that, but I won’t lie to myself either. The woman stirs something in me, something I’m not even sure what it is, but damned if her psychotic bitch of a mother is going to cheat me the chance to find out. Bentley is going to be even more pissed off when she finds out I’m moving into the vacant house across from her.
I walk into Dante’s kitchen and find him on the phone with a look that has graced my own face more than a few times. Poor guy is getting his ass chewed out, and I’m betting the firecracker down the street is the one lighting the flame under his ass. I guess I should have warned him first, before I told Bentley I was staying with him. I couldn’t pass up the satisfaction of being the one to break that little bit of news though. Shit, as I think on it, I’m betting she’s laying into him for telling me about her past. Fuck, I didn’t really mean to open my mouth about that shit, but I’ll be damned if I was going to stand there and let her lie to my face to protect a bunch of abusive whores.
I probably could have found a different way to break it to her. Looking to the mirror on the wall, my face is in agreement. Scarlet red- she painted my face with her handprint. Stings like a motherfucker too. I’m thinking her hand probably isn’t feeling much better, but she upped that ante by crushing my cock and balls into that couch cushion. Little does she know a bit of pain never hurt anyone, and I know how to give back just as good as I get. I just prefer to keep that shit in the bedroom.
Leaning in the doorway, trying not to listen to the screaming clearly coming from his cell, I look anywhere but at the broken down man standing in front of me. I didn’t mean for him to catch my wrath. As he hangs up the phone he lets out a sigh that could blow the candles right off a cake. “She’s really fucking peeved. I get she’s pissed I told you about her family, because I deserve that shit even if it was for her own good. But Bentley has been fighting against the world for so long she doesn’t get that sometimes it’s good to have someone in your corner. She’s always been like that, like she has to do it all on her own, never needing any help. She’s wrong though, she can’t handle that bitch on her own.”
As he said the words I can picture her trying to fight off some unknown force, battling the shit lurking in the shadows. He’s right, she can’t fight her mother by herself, and we aren’t about to let her.
I speak up, knowing I brought this shit down on him, “I’m sorry man, she just kept going on and on about how great her family was. I wanted to strangle the fucking word right out of her vocabulary. ‘They were great, it was great, and she was great.’ All a bunch of fucking lies. I called her out on that shit and she unhinged. I got a lovely temporary tattoo of her hand to prove it. I was expecting her to be a bit of a loose cannon once she knew, but she was pretty damn calculated in that strike.”
He follows the movement of my hand from my face to my crotch, as I adjust myself. Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a homophobe. I chuckle as I explain the need, “That’s the second time she’s nailed my family jewels, and not in the way I wish she would. If she keeps that shit up, then I’m going to have to invest in a cup. I bet she’ll think twice about kneeing me there again when she cracks her knee against that baby.”
He shakes his head laughing at me, “No man, as much as that shit might hurt, be lucky that’s all she’s hitting. The first time I donned a cup while training her she damn near took my kneecap out, and I couldn’t walk for three weeks. I’d take a couple bruised balls for a few hours over that shit any day.”
Sadly he’s right, if those are my options I probably would too. Not that I’m not fond of my dick, but the last thing anyone needs is for me to be laid up nursing a busted up knee. I shudder at the thought of how much damage one tiny woman can do. You get her going, though, and she’s like the energizer bunny. I bet she’d fuck like a rabbit too.
I say goodnight as I head off to the room I’ll be occupying for the next few days. I already have the utilities turned on in my new house, and the moving truck should be here in the morning. It would be best to get some good rest since I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long ass day, and I don’t think it will have shit to do with the moving.
I’ve been emptying the moving truck with Dante and some buddy of his for the past two hours. Oddly, those two hours have been silent. Not a peep out of the hothead across the street. I wonder if she is awake, but I can’t really see Miss Prim and Proper sleeping past noon, let alone until mid-afternoon. I mention as much to Dante, who just blows it off.
“She’s awake, but she’s never given a shit about who moves in or out around here. Unless she hears that shrieking bitch’s voice, I don’t think she would care if you were a nudist parading up and down the street in your birthday suit. Hell last time someone moved in, I joked that I thought the dude was a contract killer. She went and baked the fucker a pie. Dude turned out to be a total pussy who worked as some old freaky chick’s housekeeper.” He lets out a belly laugh as he talks about the dude down the way and his little maid getup. I have to agree with him after that little mental image, the dude is definitely a pussy.
In serious need of a break and rather disappointed in Bentley’s total lack of interest in learning who her neighbor is, I decide to trot my ass over there and demand the welcome I think I so fittingly deserve.
After three knocks, she finally answers the damn door, “What do you want, Asshat?” she asks, while rolling her eyes.
Pushing my way through the door, I add a bit of southern drawl to my already charming interpretat
ion of the English language, “Honestly, sweetheart, are we going to play this run around every day? Don’t pretend like you aren’t glad to see me. Hell, I’ll bet you were up all night getting hot and bothered about that kiss.” I lean in real close to her, my lips nearly against her ear, “I bet you were just lying there wondering what else this amazing tongue of mine could do to your body. You probably fantasized about how I could make you moan, and make you scream my name as you come against my tongue.”
So maybe I am laying it on a bit thick. She turns to walk away from me and as I grab her side to stop her, she nails me again, knocking the wind out of me. I send a silent prayer to any god watching that at least it wasn’t my balls this time, but I’m pretty sure my stomach isn’t thanking me for eating pizza and beer for lunch. I think she likes hitting me about as much as I like the idea of fucking her.
Eventually one of us is going to get bored. As my stomach contracts from the pains, I rush out her door just quickly enough to make it to her bushes before completely losing my lunch. What a fucking waste that was. This shit needs to stop.
As I stand up and turn around, she’s standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, and a scowl on her face. “Look here fuck face, just because you’re under some delusional conclusion you’re meant to park your ass in the middle of my reality, doesn’t mean I won’t tow truck you the fuck away."
I laugh really hard, and she just gets more pissed off. “Spitfire, with a mouth as dirty as yours, I can think of a million other uses for it. You are seriously under-utilizing that talent.” I swear I can see steam rising.
“I wouldn’t put my lips anywhere near your filthy degenerate ass. God only knows where the fuck your mouth has been. I’m pretty sure Satan himself wouldn’t lay up with some of the skanks that grace your bed. So thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather make out with the slobbering leg-humper that licks his own ass next door than try to scrub the diseases you try to spread out of my mouth again.”