Auctioned to Him 6: Damage

by Charlotte Byrd

  “Do you want to leave?”

  “No, not anymore. But I did originally come here to pay off a debt.”

  “Fuck you, Brielle. Everything I did for you and your mom was because I wanted to. I asked you to come. I asked you. I didn’t demand you to. You could’ve came or not. And you can leave at any time.”

  I turn around to walk toward the door. She catches up with me.

  “Wyatt, please. I’m sorry.”

  But I’m not in the mood to forgive.

  “You can go anytime,” I say and head for the door. Before I get there, she stops me. She forces me to turn around. I didn’t know that she was so strong. She pushes herself up to my lips and presses hers onto mine.

  Something takes over me. I’m mad at her; I don’t want to kiss her. But I do. My cock grows large as she rubs it, and she unbuckles my jeans and lets them fall to the floor. We kiss as if the world is going to end in a minute and rip our clothes off, with the same ferocity.

  I want her.

  I need her.

  She wants me.

  She has to have me.

  My shirt falls to the floor. Her shirt lands on top. I undo her bra and grab her breasts with my hands. She moans from pleasure. I rip off her panties and step out of my underpants.

  She buries her fingers in my hair, kisses the back of my neck. She lets her hands slide down my washboard abs and squeezes my cock. I wince from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

  With one quick motion, I toss her on the bed and spread open her legs. Within another second, I’m in her again. I pull in and out, and pleasure builds within my thighs.

  “Oh Wyatt,” she moans as I pull gently on her hair. Her moans get louder and more powerful. I’m getting closer too.

  A few more thrusts and I collapse on top of her. Satisfied. From the smile on her face, I know she is too.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “No, thank you.”

  After sex, I try not talk about her mother anymore, but that’s the only thing that is on Brielle’s mind.

  “I just don’t know why she’s acting like this. Why she’s dressed like that? Why she’s hanging out with Ophelia? Do you think she’s having some sort of mental breakdown?” She rants.

  I’m only half listening. I’m sleepy and tired, and all I want to do is turn over and go to sleep. But I nod along and try to be supportive. I don’t know much about women, but what I do know is that they want their men to be supportive. And being supportive means listening along to their rants and nodding in agreement.

  “So?” Brielle stops talking. I open my eyes and look around the room. She’s already fully dressed in the same thing she was wearing only an hour ago.

  “So what?” I ask.

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, Brielle,” I shrug. I already told her what I thought, and she didn’t want to hear it.

  “I really want to know.”

  “I already told you what I thought,” I say. I’m trying to avoid actually saying the words, but all signs are pointing to the fact that this might be inevitable.

  “I want to hear it again. If it’s still what you think,” she says cautiously. She’s no longer ranting. If I do this, I’m going to have to proceed with caution.

  “I don’t know your mother, Brielle, but the woman I met today seemed fine to me. She seemed happy. Maybe she seems so different to you because she’s actually happy for once. She’s no longer worried about her cancer or dying. Maybe she’s just trying to live her life to the fullest.”

  Brielle doesn’t say anything. I wait for her to process what I said. Her face remains expressionless, and, after awhile, I start to get worried that this was the wrong way to proceed. She’s not getting this. She’s not in agreement, and we’re going to get into another big fight. But then she surprises me.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she shrugs. “I’m going to go downstairs and talk to her.”

  Chapter 17 - Wyatt

  That night at dinner, things between Brielle and Danielle are at a stalemate. Brielle spoke with her mother in private, and I don’t know what was said. All I know is that somehow things got worse. They are no longer fighting, just ignoring each other.

  Danielle was planning on leaving before dinner, but O, of course, got in the middle of it all and insisted that she stay.

  “You can’t leave now, you just got here. Please stay for dinner. You must stay for dinner!” she said grabbing her arm. Much to my and Brielle’s dismay, Danielle agreed.

  Dinner becomes divided into two camps. Brielle only speaks to me and Danielle only speaks to O. O doesn’t bother to speak to Brielle, whom I’m now convinced that she hates wholeheartedly, but she does speak to me. Brielle doesn’t speak to O nor her mother. I try to speak to both O and Danielle, but when I do, Brielle ignores me and stares at her plate.

  Awful. Shitty. Ridiculous. All words that come to mind to describe this dinner, one of the worst ones of my life.

  Finally, when the dessert comes, I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s almost over, I say to myself. You just gotta hang in there for half an hour more. Forty-five max.

  “Ahem,” Danielle stands up and raises her glass. “I’d like to make a toast.”

  O leans forward in her seat, exhibiting the eagerness of a first grader on her first day of school. Brielle, on the other hand, shrinks in her seat as if she wants to disappear.

  “I would like to thank you, Ophelia, for being such a wonderful hostess. I know that I came without much of an announcement, but meeting you has been quite a treat.”

  “No, please,” O blushes. “It has been my pleasure.”

  “I would also like to thank you, Brielle. You aren’t as excited about me being here as I thought you would be, but nevertheless, it has been wonderful to see you again. I really missed you, honey.”

  I look closer and there are small tears pooling at the bottom of her eyes. Brielle looks at her, too.

  “Thanks for coming,” she manages, which seems to be enough for her mom, who smiles widely.

  “And finally, I would like to thank you, Wyatt.”

  That’s unexpected.

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For everything, of course. For my life. The money that you gave us. No, that you gave Brielle for my treatments. It has been a lifesaver, in the truest sense.”

  “What money?” O perks up.

  “Oh you know, the money that Wyatt gave me to pay for cancer treatments. Our insurance company refused to pay for the experimental treatment and, if it weren’t for that money, I’d be dead right now.”

  I shake my head.

  “No, I’m serious, Wyatt. I would be. You save my life. And of course, I have to go back and thank my little Bree for taking care of me during all of those years and for finally getting out of the house, so that I had some space to date and find myself a man.”

  “Mom,” Brielle shakes her head. But Danielle ignores her.

  “I’m terribly sorry that my daughter is acting like this,” she says to Ophelia and I. “I’ve taught her to behave better than this, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh really? Is that what you did, mother? And when was that? When I gave up my future to stay home and work at some shitty diner to take care of you when you were dying of cancer? Or when I came here to pay off the debt for your cancer treatments?”

  How did this nice toast suddenly get so out of hand?

  “Debt? What debt?” O turns to me. “What is she talking about, Wyatt?”

  She finally got it. I can’t believe it took her this long. But then again, she’s always been a bit slow.

  Damn.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  How the fuck did this come out? Why didn’t Brielle keep her mouth shut?

  “Nothing, no debt,” I mumble. My mind races to find just the right excuse that makes sense to this story.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  No one says anything f
or a few moments.

  “I don’t understand,” O says. “How much money did you give them exactly?”

  “Not much,” I shrug.

  “Oh my God, no! It was a lot, O,” Danielle insists. Fuck her. Fuck her!! I want to scream.

  “But how much, exactly?” O asks.

  “You didn’t tell her?” Danielle turns to me. “You were so generous and you didn’t brag about it? O, it was $250,000. Can you believe that? It was more money that I’ve ever seen. And your wonderful brother, he just wrote Brielle a check after meeting her only a few times. His heart is so big.”

  I can see the anger building within O. She purses her lips. Narrows her eyes. “That’s definitely one way of putting it.”

  “What? Whatever you’re going to say just say it already, O. Come on out with it.” I can’t stand this anymore.

  “Oh, you want me to just say it? Okay. Fine. What about me?”

  “What about you?”

  “You knew that I needed money. That mom and dad cut me off. And instead, you just chose to give that money away to strangers. How could you?”

  “They needed it for something better, O. All you would do is go shopping and party.”

  “Fuck you, Wyatt! I’m your sister. Who cares what the hell some strangers in a diner need the money for? That’s their problem. This money, it’s our money. Our family’s money. And you had no right to give it away just to get some pussy.”

  “That’s not why I did it.”

  “I don’t care!!” O is hysterical. She’s walking around, pacing, screaming. I’m keeping my distance. I feel like she’s going to explode at any minute.

  O and I continue to scream at each other. It’s like we’re children again. Nothing matters now, but to yell at each other. Who ever says the meanest, loudest thing wins. Wins what, though? Neither of us knows.

  “I can’t believe you did this for her!” O’s face is flushed. She feels like she’s losing. I know because she always starts to bring in other people into the fight when she feels like she’s losing ground.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I ask. “She’s perfect.”

  I say it. I mean it. I glance over at Brielle. She smiles.

  “She’s white trash!” O screams. “Trash! Trash!”

  “Fuck you, Ophelia!” Brielle pipes in. I don’t want her part of this, but she already is.

  “Who the hell do you think you’re calling trash?”

  “You, you bitch!”

  O puts her hands on her hips. She thinks she’s gaining ground. Her attention is diverted to someone weaker. Someone without a strong position. Or so she thinks. I look over at Brielle. Her face is expressionless. Her eyes are unflinching. It’s like she has something on O. She knows something she shouldn’t.

  “At least, I’m not the one who’s pregnant. And unmarried. Single. Am I right, Ophelia?”

  Pregnant! What the hell is she talking about? O’s not pregnant.

  “What’s she talking about, O?”

  I wait for O to fight back. Tell Brielle to shut up, send her to hell. But she doesn’t. Instead, she breaks down. Her legs buckle under her and she drops to the floor.

  “O!” I go to her and wrap my arms around her. I’ve never seen O this fragile. At least, not since her boyfriend killed himself the day before their prom.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Brielle?”

  “It’s true,” she shrugs. I hate how cold she is. A few moments, I felt nothing but love and warmth for her. But now, all that’s gone.

  “It’s true,” Brielle insists. “Isn’t it, O?”

  I’ve never heard her call O that, and I hate the way she says it.

  “O?” I ask. Her face is buried in my shoulders. She’s sobbing.

  “Yes,” she mumbles. “I think so.”

  I continue to hold her. Brielle stares at me. Something in her eyes tells me that she’s sorry. I pull away from O and she stands up on her own two feet.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “He left. He left me,” she sobs. “And your girlfriend has no right to go through my bags!”

  “Yes, I do! You were the one who told me to put all your shit away because you’re such a princess that you couldn’t do it yourself.”

  “Brielle, please,” I say.

  “You’re telling me to be quiet?” Brielle gasps.

  “Yes, I am. Can’t you see that O’s having a difficult time here?”

  “I can’t believe you’re taking her side!”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side. There are no sides. There’s just this crazy situation that I just heard about,” I say.

  I turn to O. “How did this happen? Why?”

  But she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she sobs and buries her face in her hands. I fuckin’ knew it. I knew it. O’s ex, if you can call him that, was such an asshole. He never had a job. He was a ruthless playboy that cheated on her incessantly and told her he loved her.

  “I just don’t understand what you saw in him, O. He was such a dick.”

  She shrugs and continues to cry.

  The three of us stand in a semi-circle, unsure as to what to do. Danielle sits motionless at the table.

  Finally, I turn to Brielle.

  “How long did you know?” I ask.

  “Ever since I unpacked her bags the other day. I was going to keep this private, but…”

  “You had no right to keep it private,” I say. I don’t know why I said that. When Brielle’s eyes grow big with astonishment and shock, I want to take those words back immediately, but I can’t.

  “What are you talking about?” Brielle crosses her arms across her chest.

  “Nothing,” I shrug.

  “This wasn’t even her news to reveal! You bitch,” O hisses.

  “Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” Brielle throws her hands up and turns to leave the room.

  “Where are you going, darling?” Danielle walks after.

  “I need to get out of here.”

  Danielle follows her out leaving O and me alone in the room. I turn to her. I don’t know what to say. I want to yell at her for being so stupid. How could she just get pregnant like this with that moron’s baby? And is she planning on keeping it? What will our parents say?

  But she looks at me with her large puppy dog eyes, and I can’t do any of those things. All I see is my sister and that she’s lost. Alone. Scared. Terrified, probably. I would be, and I wouldn’t even be the one who’s pregnant.

  “Are you okay?” I ask quietly. “Can I get you something?”

  She shakes her head, no. She sits back down. I look her over, up and down. I look for signs of pregnancy, but there are none. Except that she didn’t drink this evening. Strange. I didn’t notice that before.

  “I hate that girl,” she says. I sigh.

  “You two just got off to a bad start. You came in here ordering her around. What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I thought she was the fuckin’ help, Wyatt. How was I supposed to know that she’s your girlfriend? You said that she worked here.”

  “She does. But that’s not all she is. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

  She smiles. I don’t remember the last time I saw that beautiful smile. It puts me at ease.

  “Tell me about it,” she says rubbing her non-existent belly.

  I ask her about the father. At first, she doesn’t want to talk, but eventually she caves. They have been on and off for two years. This happened during one of the on-times.

  “At least, he’s got money,” I say.

  She shrugs. “I don’t care about the money.”

  I look around the room. Frantically, as if I’m searching for something.

  “What wrong?” she asks.

  “I’m just looking for my sister. Because this girl in front of me who said that she doesn’t care about money, that can’t possibly be my sister!”

  “Oh shut up,” O laughs. I’m glad that I’m still able to make her laugh. “I
’ve grown up. I’m going to be a mom.”

  “So I heard.”

  “She had no right to tell you. That’s why I got so mad at her. That and my hormones are all out of whack now.”

  “I know,” I nod. “But she did. So what? Do you want me to keep your secret for you?”

  “Yes,” she nods. “I just can’t tell anyone else yet. I can’t have mom and dad finding out. Not before I decided what to do about all this.”

  “Oh, so you’re not decided?” I ask.

  “Don’t get so excited. I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep it. I just need some time. I’m not sure how to break it to them quite yet. I need time.”

  I nod. I understand. Mom and Dad are difficult people to break things to. They have so many standards and rules. Plus, they are way too easily disappointed by their children. Whenever you present them with a new idea, it’s very important to have an answer for everything. And with this whole situation, they will eat her alive.

  “Will you help me?” O asks. “Help me come up with a plan?”

  I smile, nod. Not sure what kind of plan we can come up with, but some sort of plan would be better than nothing. I knew that for sure.

  “You owe me,” she adds.

  “Owe you for what?”

  “For giving away a quarter of a million dollars to some strangers!” The tone of her voice shows that she’s joking, but not really.

  “It was for a good cause.”

  “Oh, please,” O rolls her eyes. “Good cause my ass. If that had been some guy with a humpback and his mother was dying, you wouldn’t give two shits about them.”

  I roll my eyes. Shrug. Shake my head, no. But we both know that she’s right.

  “Just tell me one thing, okay?”

  “What?”

  “Why her? What’s so special about her?”

  I think about it for a moment. I want to say it’s because she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Or the funniest. Or the wittiest. But none of those things are true.

  “She was the only one who said no. A couple of times, too. And then, I just had to have her.”

  O throws her head back and laughs. “You guys are all the same.”

  I nod in agreement. Perhaps, we are.