North Woods University

by Beck, J. L.

  “Vance!” I squeal.

  “Be mine. Be with me, Ava. I’ve fucked up. I know I did, but I promise you there is good in me. I will make this right, I’ll treat you right, and I will make you my number one priority. I want you to move out of my dad’s house and in with me. I want everyone to know that you’re my girlfriend and that I love you.”

  It all sounds like a dream. I never thought Vance would care about me, let alone love me. But, I guess hate can’t grow when you cut off its only source of sunlight.

  “I...I want that too, but we don’t want to move too fast.”

  “We can go at whatever pace you want, but I won’t let you stay here under my father’s thumb. I’m done letting them rule our lives. They’ve been happy while the rest of us have suffered and I’m not letting it happen anymore.”

  For years I’ve longed to be loved, I just never expected that love to be found in him.

  “But what about money? I can’t pay for college on my own, let alone a place to live. I’ll have to get a job, which isn’t a problem but...” My voice trails off. I know I’m thinking too much into this, but it’s a lot of responsibility, and with a new relationship, we don’t stand a chance.

  Vance grins, having obviously thought everything through. “Slow down, baby. I told my dad to give me my trust fund now. It was supposed to be mine after college, but he agreed that I could have it now. There’s enough money in there that we won’t have to worry about paying tuition or rent. We can forget about your mom, my father, and we can live a normal life, without lies and memories of the past.”

  “Vance, I can’t let you…”

  Lifting his hand, he presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. His eyes piercing mine, softening me with one single look.

  I don’t want to argue with him, not after all we’ve been through. It should be me saying sorry, me offering to take care of him, I mean he got shot by my father.

  “You can, and you will let me pay for it. I want to take care of you. Please, let me do this. Let me take that worry away from you. I owe it to you, to us.”

  “Okay, but only if you let me pay you back.” I’ll probably never be able to repay him, but I’ll try.

  “Oh, you can pay me back, alright.” He snickers, and I feel his hardened member pressing against my ass. “You could start now if you’re feeling generous.”

  “Stop it, you’re healing. You could barely get up the stairs, you need to rest before doing any kind of activities.”

  Vance’s face deadpans. “I got shot, baby. My dick didn’t fall off.”

  “Well no sex, not until you’re fully healed. I don’t want to be responsible for any other injuries you might incur. I feel bad enough as it is.”

  “Don’t. I’d much rather have been shot than had you shot. It was my choice, and one I would make again and again.”

  I lean into his face, lifting my hand, I cup him by the cheek. “Truth or Dare?”

  “Truth,” he says, his full lips begging to be kissed. “Always the truth from now on out.”

  “Maybe just one last dare?” I tease.

  “Okay…” He pauses, thinking and I wonder what I’ve got myself into. “Since sex is off the table…I… dare you... to… kiss me.”

  I press my lips to his before he can say anything else, swallowing up whatever words were going to come out of his mouth next. Our relationship was never going to be perfect, but I don’t want perfect.

  I just want Vance Preston, today, tomorrow, forever.

  My best friend, my bully, my love.

  Epilogue

  Vance

  “Do we have to go?” Ava pouts, and I squeeze her hand in mine. Now I understand why Remington is so territorial over Jules. Love makes you do crazy things.

  “Yes, we have to go. No way in hell am I not showing you off. I want everybody to know we are together, so no one dares to hit on you when I’m not with you.”

  “But, you are always with me.” She grins. It’s true, we have been inseparable for the last few weeks. While I was recovering, she played my nurse and even now that I’m all healed up, we do everything together.

  My father successfully covered up the whole shooting incident. At least he got that right. Ava didn’t want people to know what her dad did, and I was more than happy to help make it go away. No one besides our family and Clark knows that I was shot.

  I’ve kept my promise to right all my wrongs, and tonight I’m going to right another wrong. I’m going to make it known to the entire campus that she’s mine, and shut down any rumors that might be floating around.

  “We don’t have to stay late. Just long enough for everybody to see us together.”

  “You make it sound like I’m a trophy or something.”

  “Trophy wife, maybe?”

  “Slow down, we just moved in together. Marriage is like a thousand light years away.”

  “I can wait, but one day you will be my wife…just so we’re clear on that. You’ll carry my last name, and then my babies.” I can’t help but grin, even though I know me speaking of the future terrifies Ava, I know she’s it for me, and I need her to know that too.

  “Okay, someday.” Ava giggles as we walk up to the porch. Inside, the party is in full swing. Loud music, laughter, and chatter can be heard from the street and when we walk through the front door those noises only get louder.

  I let go of Ava’s hand and instead wrap an arm around her, tucking her small body into my side as we walk through the crowd. Heads turn and people stare at us while I lead us across the living room. Our relationship is still somewhat new, and the gossip about us being together will spread like a wildfire, the sorority girls wanting to get in every last word.

  Spotting Remington and Jules in the far corner of the open space, I decide to go and hang out with them. At least Ava knows Jules, and they seem to like each other. I would hang with Clark, but lately he’s been MIA.

  “Vance,” Remington greets me with a broad grin and a chin nod. Ava pulls away and greets Jules with a hug. The girls break out into conversation about classes and some new books that just released.

  “I’m guessing you fell hard for the pain in the ass stepsister?”

  “You have no idea. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for the things I did.” For some strange reason, the words just come out. Remington doesn’t have the first clue what I put Ava through, so he couldn’t possibly understand.

  “Yeah, I put Jules through some bad shit too. I’ve had to learn to let go of the pain, the hate I feel for myself for doing so. I do everything I can for her now, and eventually I’ll marry her, whenever she lets me.” He chuckles. “There was a time when I was the bully and she was my punching bag though, and I’ll never truly forget that.”

  Okay, so maybe I was wrong. Maybe Remington Miller did know what it felt like. My lips part and I’m about to respond when Sarah and her gang of hyenas strut up to us. Jules and Ava stop talking when Sarah stops right in front of Ava.

  “Look, girls, trailer trash is here, make sure you hold on to your purses. You never know with this one,”

  Sarah snickers. She had better be counting her lucky stars today that she is a girl, ‘cause if she wasn’t, my fist would be flying through the air right now.

  “Get lost, Sarah, you’re just jealous of Ava,” I snap.

  “Oh hey, Vance. I haven’t seen you in a while,” she greets me, ignoring my statement. A pout forms on her red painted lips.

  Tugging Ava into my side, I make it clear to Sarah that I’m with her.

  “I’ve been busy spending time with people who matter, you know…with my girlfriend.”

  Sarah’s hyenas laugh like I said something funny. Sarah cuts them off with the wave of her hand, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “She’s trailer trash and your stepsister. Isn’t that like incest or something,” she sneers.

  “Stepsister. We aren’t related, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand that since the only thing you’re good at is spreading your legs,
” I grit out.

  “You didn’t seem to mind much…” Sarah snickers and I snap.

  “Don’t be full of yourself. I never fucked you and I never would. Why would I want you when I have someone like Ava?”

  Sarah tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever, Clark still lets me ride his dick.”

  Is that supposed to hurt my feelings or something? Because it doesn’t. I’d much rather have Ava than ever allow Sarah to touch me again.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ava’s cheeks growing red with embarrassment. Then I lift my head and notice we’ve caught most of the attention in the room.

  “What the fuck are you all staring at?” I growl into the crowd and most everyone goes back to what they were doing a moment before this little spat took place.

  “Have fun with that,” Sarah says, her top lip curling in disgust before skipping off into the crowd.

  Ava slaps a hand to my chest. “You brought me here to have a sparring match with her?”

  “No, baby, I brought you here so everyone knows you’re mine.”

  “They’re more like us than we thought,” Jules says to Remington who grins down at her like a fool.

  “Another goal for team hate to love,” Remington snickers.

  “What the hell?” I nudge Rem in the side, getting his attention.

  “What?” he asks.

  “What the hell do you mean another goal for team hate to love?”

  “Oh, Jules and I had a little bet going. She wasn’t so sure you would fall for the meddling stepsister, but I knew better.”

  “Bets get you in trouble I’ve heard.” I wink, which causes Remington to expel another huff of laughter.

  “That they do, that they do.”

  My cell phone starts to ring in my pocket, and I fish the thing out gazing down at the screen.

  Clark.

  I answer immediately. “Hey, what’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Uhh yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy. Do you have time to help me? I’m moving and I need help with this sectional. It’s a bitch to move.”

  Moving? “What the fuck, Clark, what’s going on?” I ask.

  Sighing, he says, “Look, I’ll explain when you get here.”

  Ava having heard the entire conversation nods her head, telling me she’s okay with leaving this shit show.

  “Yeah, we’ll be there. Message me your new address.”

  “Got it, see you soon,” Clark says, hanging up the phone. I shove my phone back into my pocket and turn to Rem and Jules.

  “Sorry, but we’re blowing this Popsicle stand.”

  Ava gives Jules a quick hug and I give Rem a chin nod before taking my girl by the hand and guiding her out of the party. Once we make it outside and away from the loud noise of the party, Ava asks, “What’s going on? Why did Clark move?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”

  Just then, my phone chimes with an incoming text. I wait to check it until we reach the car. Then I fish the thing out and read the text Clark sent me. I know the address, the place he’s living is in a condo near the country club, but why the fuck is he moving into his own place?

  Shoving the thoughts away, I start the car and take Ava’s hand into mine as I drive us toward Clark’s place. It doesn’t take long before we’ve arrived.

  “Clark’s going to live in one of these places by himself?” Ava asks astonished.

  “Yeah, I don’t really believe it either.”

  We walk up the stone walkway and to the condo that Clark told me. When we reach the door, I sigh, lifting my hand to knock. I don’t get a chance though because a moment later the door comes flying open. Clark’s shameful face before me.

  “Hey guys,” Clark says, gesturing for us to come in. The place is huge and my mouth pops open when I notice the girl standing in the middle of the kitchen, her face filled with anxious anxiety.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” I ask, confused. Ava blinks, and then a slow smile forms on her lips.

  Running a hand through his russet brown hair, Clark says, “Ava, Vance. Meet Emerson, my girlfriend.”

  Girlfriend? What. The. Fuck?

  “Girlfriend?” I stutter.

  “Yup. Girlfriend,” Clark grits out through his teeth, his eyes begging me to understand but I don’t. I just don’t understand. Clark doesn’t do girlfriends, I mean he does other people’s girlfriends, but he doesn’t stake claim. He nails ‘em to the bed and leaves ‘em before the condom hits the garbage can.

  “Emerson, this is Vance, my best friend, and Ava, my second best friend.”

  “Hi,” she squeaks out timidly. Holy shit, she’s Clark’s opposite, shy, nervous, obviously innocent. Her blue eyes shimmer with secrets and I know whatever is going on here has something to do with her.

  “Explain,” I order, but Clark shakes his head.

  “I will…later.”

  The End

  Prologue

  Emerson

  I hate social gatherings, crowded spaces, places where there is nowhere to escape. It makes the suffocating fear that I live with every day that much thicker. My palms are sweaty against the glass I’m holding that is about to slip out of my hands, but just like the fear, if I clutch onto it any tighter, it might shatter under the pressure. I might shatter under the pressure. This is a normal occurrence though, something that I deal with every time my father drags me to one of these events. No, that’s a lie. This kind of debilitating fear follows me everywhere I go. Fear has been part of my life for so long that I don’t know what it feels like to live without it. It’s a second skin...now.

  The need to escape consumes me and I try to take another step backward, but I’m already as close to the wall as I can get without going through it. My back is pressed against the smooth brick in the corner of the large room filled with some of my father’s biggest clients and business partners. In such a big space, one would think you wouldn’t feel alone, but I’m always alone, in the mental and physical form. Like a statue, I stand watching the people around me, they laugh and talk, mingling, some of them drinking alcohol or eating from the buffet. They do it so casually, like it’s second nature.

  Sometimes I wish I could be part of that, part of the world around me, instead, I choose to seclude myself. I stay on the outside, looking through the window, but never going in. It’s easier that way, then I don’t have to explain myself, or face the cruel looks, or comments.

  Most people here ignore me, knowing better than to make conversation and that’s really what I’m hoping for wherever I go. So when I see this six-foot, brown-haired, broad-chested guy heading right toward me, I wish for the wall to swallow me up. I’m more than shocked and scared.

  I’m actually frozen in place. If I could run, I would, but because I can’t, I just stand there, my feet rooted into the floor as he steps closer.

  What the hell is he doing?

  “Hello beautiful,” he greets, stopping less than a foot away from me. His scent wafts into my nose as I suck in an anxious breath. The unknown boy slurs, his green eyes are just a little more glassy than they should be, leading me to the conclusion that the beer in his hand must not be his first one.

  I crane my neck back and stare up at him in disbelief. Besides him looking a little drunk, he is extremely handsome, his jaw sharp, his cheeks high, an all-American look that reminds me of some of the guys I went to high school with, and from the way he carries himself, he knows it too.

  My lips pressed together in a firm line. Even if I wanted to say something I couldn’t. When he realizes I’m not going to say anything, he continues, “I’m guessing the reason you’re hiding over here in the corner of the room, is because you’re bored like me?” He pauses briefly, tilting his head, amusement glittering in his eyes. An ache starts to form in my chest at the look. He’s so close, his scent surrounding me, suffocating me.

  He licks his pink lips and then asks, “Wanna get out of here?” His gaze briefly low
ering and raking over my body. There’s a knot of fear rising in my throat.

  My heart rate picks up and my hands start to shake. “No, thank you,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. Please just go away.

  I look past him, and around the room. People are listening to someone who just started speaking up front, all their backs turned to us. Oh, no. I can feel the fear slithering up my body, threatening to overtake me.

  “Seriously, let’s go…baby. I promise, you won’t regret it,” he coaxes, everything about him screams confident and cocky, I’m sure he is not used to hearing no. Then he lifts a hand, dragging his fingers over my cheekbone and I nearly drop my glass at his touch. Fear and panic spreading up and up, sinking into my muscles and my lungs. I start shaking, my throat closes up and my knees wobble, knocking together. Air refuses to fill my lungs.

  I’m suffocating.

  He’s too close, too interested in me. His large body crowds my personal space and all I can think of is that he wants to hurt me.

  No, that he is going to hurt me.

  “Are you alright?” he suddenly asks, concern apparent in his tone. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Come on, let’s get some fresh air,” he announces, grabbing my arm and dragging my stiff body toward the back exit. No, no, no!

  I try to dig my heels into the ground and pull my arm out of his grasp, but he’s too strong, and easily overpowers me. This can’t be happening. He practically picks me up and carries me outside the rest of the way. I know I should scream, but nothing makes it past the huge knot in my throat.

  By the time we’re outside in the back alley, I’m experiencing a full-blown panic attack. I can’t speak, can’t breathe, and then my vision starts to blur. I clutch a hand to my chest, trying to swallow it all down, but I can’t. There’s too much. All I can feel is my heart beating out of my chest.