by Amiee Louise
I spent the rest of the night mentally trying to talk myself out of meeting with Daryl’s dad. Why does he want to meet me? Is it a trap? Am I going to get arrested? Does he blame me for his son’s death? Does he wish it me and not Daryl? All of these thoughts barrelled through my coke addled brain, as I fell into a fitful night’s sleep.
I wake with a start and throw myself into a warm shower, feeling almost human again. J.D drops me off at the café and I make my way inside. The bell signals my arrival, and the homely café is busy this morning, it’s full of builders in hi viz vests and teenagers in tracksuits, noses buried in their phones. Despite being rushed off her feet, Mandie rushes up to me and throws her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek. I find myself smiling widely.
“Hey gorgeous!” I greet her.
I think she’s got a thing for me. She’s very attractive and given half the chance, I would smash her back doors in. I rid myself of that thought, as she flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Usual, handsome?” she asks, and I nod.
She knows me well since I’ve been coming here since I was fifteen years old.
“You got it, beautiful!” I say with a wink, and she giggles girlishly as she makes her way back around the counter.
I make my way to a free table at the back in the corner. I sit down, a feeling of unease settling deep in my gut and I find myself relieved that I skipped breakfast. My cup of coffee lands on the table in front of me and I look up to meet Mandie’s eyes. I’m sure she’s undone a few more buttons on her fitted denim shirt and I can’t seem to stop my eyes from wandering.
“There you go, handsome.”
She brushes my hand with a wink.
“Cheers, darlin’.”
She nods with a beaming smile and walks away, leaving me to my coffee. A few moments pass and as I look up, I’m faced with a set of desolate and devastated pale blue eyes, rimmed red. He looks a little dishevelled, his dark grey three-piece suit crumpled. I take him in. He is average height with slicked back salt and pepper hair. He regards me with wary, careful eyes and I shift my gaze back to the floor.
“Brody?” he asks gruffly, and I nod. “Lenny,” he introduces himself, and I shake his outstretched hand, gesturing to the seat opposite. He sits down, looking oddly overdressed and out of place.
“To be honest, I didn’t think you were going to show up,” he admits honestly.
“I almost didn’t,” I answer flatly, suddenly feeling way out of my depth.
Why is he really here? He’s about to speak again, when Mandie places a cup in front of him.
“Is everything ok, Brody?”
I look up at her and smile.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, sweetheart.”
I don’t elaborate and she seems satisfied with my answer, as she turns on her heel, leaving us to it.
“So, you were with Daryl when he…when he…” he struggles to get the words out.
“Yes, I was.”
I don’t finish his sentence; I just give him the answer and he nods his gratitude.
“I just want a clearer picture, that’s all, son. I know what he was, I’m under no illusion. My son was a raving, fucking junkie. Me and my Nancy tried so hard to help him, but you just can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”
I take a sip of my coffee, just for something to do because I don’t know what to say. I’m literally lost for words.
“Look, son, I’m not a cop. I’m just a father who’s lost his son.”
His gruff voice trembles and I instinctively reach across the table for his hand, as a tear rolls down his cheek. I know we don’t know each other, but I can tell he’s a good man. He deserves to know what happened.
“Daryl and me, we’d been friends for three or four years, we met through a mutual friend. We weren’t close, it was the sort of friendship that if we needed company or someone to get high with. I know you probably don’t want to hear that, but you wanted to know what happened. I’m no better than him, I’m an addict too. You see, I’ve just signed a record deal with a huge label. I’m in a rock band, it’s been pretty full on lately and I just wanted some sense of normality… I don’t know.”
I take a long sip of my coffee, suddenly desperate for something to take the edge off. It’s barely even lunchtime and I’m craving oblivion. Fucking hell.
“We met up, we did a few lines of coke, then he said he’d managed to get hold of something else. Said his dealer gave him a freebie for a favour he’d done for him. He didn’t go into detail, but he pulled out a foil wrapper. I’d seen it before, my mum was a heroin addict, so I don’t touch it. He offered it to me, and we argued… I kept telling him no. I tried to convince him not to, I tried! I found my mum with a needle hanging out of her arm when I was ten years old, and I didn’t ever want to fucking see someone I cared about go out like that. I tried to grab it off him, pleaded with him not to, he used his belt to find a vein. I kept trying to stop him, but he injected it and he kept saying he was fine. Part of me thought he was doing it to prove a point, but we were similar in that respect. We’ve both got addictive personalities so he was just doing it because he could, because he was chasing the high. He was like a kid, screaming and whooping, saying how he felt like he could take on the world. I don’t know how much time passed, but he started convulsing, foaming at the mouth, his eyes were rolling back in his head…”
I’m the one crying now and I can’t help the flood of emotion that surges through me. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and a deep breath, before I continue, but Lenny holds his finger up.
“Stop, just stop, I’ve heard enough.”
His voice so full of anguish and pain.
“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” I sob, and Lenny reaches across the table for my hand.
“It wasn’t your fault, son, thank you for telling me that. I know it must have been hard for you, losing your mum at such a young age and seeing a friend go the same way. Look, I know we’ve just met, but I couldn’t help my own son, maybe I can help you? You seem like a good kid who’s lost his way, that’s all. Daryl was a lost cause, he was beyond help, but you’re not, I can see that in you.”
Maybe I’m not beyond saving, maybe I can give this man a second chance. With that thought at the forefront of my mind, I find myself nodding and agreeing all too easily with this gentle man who’s just lost his son.
I’m snapped back to the present by Raleigh shifting in my arms and she sighs contentedly.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“What for, kitten?”
She squeezes me tighter.
“For telling me that and for letting me know you a little more.”
I press a tender kiss to her forehead and bit by bit, day by day, I’m letting my defences down. I’m lowering those walls I’ve built so high around myself and it doesn’t feel so bad anymore. She’s right, we are healing each other. Maybe she’s the cure I’ve waited all my life for. I can only hope.
Raleigh
After our early morning love making session and our little chat about Lenny, I feel like I was getting ever closer to knowing the real Brody Hart. I had just finished a successful and productive Zoom meeting with Damien, and I feel more optimistic for the future. I change into my work out clothes, a pair of tiny black lycra shorts, a black and purple crop top and black and purple Skechers. I head down to the basement where Brody’s state-of-the-art home gym is located. As I get to the bottom of the staircase, I spot him in all of his tattooed glory, he’s shirtless as he launches a pair of boxing gloves at me.
“Put these on, kitten.”
I catch them awkwardly and pull them on, letting him help me fasten the Velcro around my wrist. He leads me over to a long, oblong leather bag hanging from the hook in the ceiling with a wink and positions me in front of it.
"Right, first lesson, let your fist be an extension of your arm. Show me what you've got," he instructs, the sexual tension in the room is thick and al
most suffocating.
"Jab, jab, cross, jab, jab, cross, cross, jab. Come on, faster."
The authority in his voice is a turn on for me and it hits all my hot buttons. I do as he says, and he smiles at my progress. He is seemingly unaware that I want him to throw me against the wall and fuck me like I need to be fucked.
"Good, you know if you want to learn self-defence, you should probably talk to Peyton. She took lessons when she lived in Santa Monica," he says.
Before I know what I'm saying, curiosity gets the better of me and I blurt out, "What happened to her?"
He shakes his head and smirks.
"It's not my story to tell, babe. She doesn't like to talk about it, but let's just say, she did what she had to, to keep Freddie safe," he explains cryptically, and I want to press him for more information, but I don’t.
"She protected that boy with her life, I've got so much respect for her for that. It was a time we'd all rather forget, but it bought her back to us. It gave us hope that happy ever after isn't so out of reach after all," he says ruefully, and I find myself smiling at his words.
"Who knew Brody Hart was a hopeless romantic!"
He rolls his eyes and laughs. "I've got no idea what you're talking about, Storm."
He cocks his eyebrow and I start to bend down provocatively, giving him a full view of my breasts. I pretend to stretch, and he chuckles throatily.
"Do you need something taken care of, kitten?" he asks gruffly, and I reach down to touch my toes.
I purposely brush his growing erection with my bum and lightning fast, he grabs me around the waist.
"Now play fair, kitten. It's not nice to tease."
He pins me to the wall, pulls off both of the boxing gloves, discarding them to the floor. He holds both of my hands prisoner in one of his above my head. I can feel his warm breath gust out against my face, as I take in his features: the angular slope of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, the dimple in his chin, the defined set of his biceps and the curve of his delicious arse. Fuck, he's gorgeous, but he doesn't seem to know it. His stormy silver eyes are hooded and blazing with white hot lust, as he cups my tender breast in his other hand. He ghosts his finger across my nipple, and I bite my lip, softly mewling. I can’t describe the feelings he evokes in me, as he presses his solid erection into my pelvis.
“You make me so hard, every time I’m near you, kitten, my cock betrays me.”
He chuckles softly as I writhe in his grip.
“Ah, ah, not yet I want to pleasure you until you can’t take it anymore, I want to take you right to the edge, until you’re begging for your orgasm,” he rasps seductively and roughly tears my lycra shorts from my body, the noise echoing throughout the room.
He cocks his eyebrow as he realises I’m not wearing any underwear beneath my shorts. I wink cheekily at him and he shoves two fingers inside my brazenly drenched pussy. I cry out in pure unadulterated desire, as he expertly and thoroughly finger fucks me.
"BRODY!"
He curls his rough, calloused fingers deep within my searingly hot channel. I am squirming, my legs about to give under the intense pleasure he is reigning upon me.
"I've got you, kitten, I’ve got you."
He introduces another finger and rubs my aching clit in deliberate, slow circles.
"OH FUCK!"
I’m so close I can feel my orgasm rising to the surface.
“BRODY! DON’T STOP! PLEASE! FUCK! DON’T STOP!”
I’m aware that my voice sounds breathy and desperate, but I’m too far gone to care. Suddenly he pulls his fingers free, leaving me needy, wanting, and fraught. He frees my hands and I try to catch my breath. I watch him carefully, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. I’m a quivering mess of pent-up frustration.
“What the fuck was that?” I pant, struggling to maintain my cool composure, and he winks.
“That was just a taste, kitten. Do you want more?”
I bite my lip at his suggestive question and nod. His body is damp with sweat and his dark brown hair is longer than it’s ever been, it’s deliciously mussed and I’m itching to run my fingers through it. His long basketball shorts hang low on his hips, revealing the deep set ‘V’, which leads down to his tattooed and pierced, eight-inch member.
“Your pleasure belongs to me, Raleigh, I know what gets you off, I know what turns you on, I’ve memorised every inch of your body, every imperfection, every scar, every dimple, every little detail.”
He leans down to kiss a burning trail from my neck and across my collar bone, I shiver at feather light touch. I briefly close my eyes and whisper.
“Oh God, I love you.”
He’s silent, as his lips continue their journey down to the swell of my breast. I lose myself in him and I let him take control, pushing down the disappointment of him not being able to admit his declaration of love out loud, even though his actions tell me a different story.
“I want you naked, kitten,” he demands, and I pull off my crop top in one lithe move.
I’m stood naked before him, as he drops his basketball shorts to the floor, allowing his steel erection to spring free. I lick my lips at the sight of him.
“See something you like?”
I nod, teasing my nipples between my thumb and forefinger.
“Hmm,” I hum as he reaches over and traces my arm with a feather-light touch.
Heat blossoms through me, and his name leaves my lips on a ragged pant. The throbbing between my thighs is almost unbearable, as I feel the broad head of his cock probing my entrance. The look in his eyes full of the words he can’t say out loud, as he pushes into me on a strangled bark. I cry out with each measured drive of his length, waves of warmth spread through me, as his piercing rubs my inner walls deliciously, creating a friction. I move my hips upwards, encouraging him to go faster.
“Tell me what you want, kitten.”
His hands roam all over my body and I lift my hips again, moving with urgency.
“I want you to fuck me, Brody!”
I gasp, my world spinning on its axis, as he flips me onto my back, withdrawing and plunging deep inside my slick channel and I can’t help screaming out.
“OH BRODY! YOU FEEL TOO FUCKING GOOD!”
He pounds into me with the fury that he’s been holding back, as he grips my hips from behind. Each thrust brings with it new waves of pure unadulterated bliss, each stroke more intense than the last.
“Do you want me?” he asks with desperation etched in his voice.
“God, yes, I want you! So fucking bad,” I breathe, and he seems satisfied with my answer as he expertly swivels his hips, causing those familiar flutters deep within me.
“I’ve got you, kitten, come with me.”
With those words, the rapturous ball of heated pleasure at my core, explodes and I swear I see stars. I cry out, throwing my head back and my pussy contracting around his cock, milking every last drop with strong, fluttering pulses.
“OH FUCK! FUCK! FUCK BRODY! I’M COMING!”
He grunts, pumping harder, as he tenses, finding his release. His breathing hitches as he comes long and hard, cursing low in his throat. My body trembles and twitches with post-orgasmic aftershocks, as he pulls out of me. This man makes me crazy with desire and I don’t think I could want him more than in this moment. We lie there satiated and spent on the padded floor of his gym, our breathing in sync and returning to normal after our love making session. As he wraps me in his arms, I begin to torture myself with plans of forever.
A girl can only dream.
33
Raleigh
I’ve been feeling off for the past couple of weeks, but I just put it down to stress. I’ve just got back from an audition, as Liv sits down next to me, holding my hand and narrowing her eyes on me.
“When was your last period, babe?” she asks curiously, eagerly anticipating my answer.
“What?”
I consider her question for a few moments and try desperately to recall the last
time I had my period. My periods have always been irregular, but for the past few years they’ve evened out and they’re usually regular, give or take a few days. Fuck, I can’t be pregnant can I? Brody and I have always used protection, except for those few occasions when we both got caught in the moment and fucked bare. Shit. I bite my lip, as I come to the sudden realisation that I could well be pregnant with Brody Hart’s baby. I get up from my seat and start to anxiously pace the floor.
“Talk to me, Rae.”
I am rendered speechless by the revelation and I can’t speak. I end up just standing in front of the mirror, opening, and closing my mouth looking like a demented fucking goldfish.