Spiteful Punks: dolls and douchebags part one

by Madeline Fay

  It smacks Paris in the face, her screaming louder than the one who threw it. Justice served in my opinion. I’m determined to be that girl’s friend, she might just be my hero dressed in Hello Kitty.

  Sticking as close as I can to the walls, I’m rushing out of the gym and trying to reach the front of the school without running into anyone in the crowded halls. I can breathe easier once I’m outside, having a chance to glance around and groaning in misery when I see the guys surrounding Logan’s car with a group of girls hanging all over them, except for Nicky but they do try to get his attention.

  Well, this is fucking fantastic. I’m going to have to bulldoze my way through the fan club if I want a ride back to the temporary house. Glancing around desperately, I see Evan heading towards a bright red Jeep Wrangler in the back of the parking lot. Not thinking about it, I start chasing after him, very aware of the stares as I jog with my bag clutched to my chest and the humid air making my shirt stick to my back.

  “Evan!” I pant behind him, shoving a purple strand of hair out of my eyes.

  He spins around startled and darts his gaze around nervously before settling on me, a slight smile turning at the corner of his mouth.

  “Hey, Till. Shit. I’m sorry! I didn’t even think, just gave you a nickname like we’ve been friends for years instead of just a day.” His eyes widen behind his glasses, a panicked look moving over his expression. “I mean, uh, if you know… if you want to be friends. No pressure,” he gushes out on a deep inhale, running his hand through his thick curls on top of his head.

  I can only stare at him, biting my lip as a laugh climbs up my throat. A loud engine roars in the parking lot somewhere near the front of the school. Clearly, the owner needs attention because the person keeps pressing on the gas, drawing the noise out. I don’t bother to look, I can feel his stare burning into my back. I quicken my pace with Evan until we’re standing at his front bumper.

  “That had to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Yeah, you dork, we’re friends.” I clear my throat to contain my laugh, punching him on the shoulder and pretending to not notice when he winces at the small love tap. “Would you mind giving me a ride to my, um, house?”

  He glances out of the corner of his eye towards the asshat who presses on the gas again, only louder this time, and I swear Evan’s eyes couldn’t get any bigger at whatever he sees. I blow out an annoyed breath fed up with the games. I’m about to turn around until Evan grabs my cheeks, squeezing my face so that my lips pucker out like a fish.

  “Don’t look. If you don’t move, maybe they won’t see us,” Evan whispers out of the side of his mouth, it hardly looks like he’s breathing.

  I would laugh but it gets stuck in my throat as we hear multiple car doors slam shut, I wince at the sound. That poor car.

  “Oh, God, they’re coming this way! It didn’t work! Screw it, get in the car!” Evan lets go of my face like I burned him, his expression horrified when he realized he was squishing my cheeks and touching me.

  “Tillie!” Logans shouts, anger clear in his voice and that’s my cue to leave.

  I shove Evan towards the driver’s side to get him moving and hurriedly dash around the front towards the passenger seat. We’re both slamming the doors shut, tires squealing as he pulls out of his parking spot. My gaze unwillingly glances out of the side window as we roll by. Logan and Nicky stand a few feet away with identical clenched jaws. Mad as hell honey eyes glare into my window and quickly shifts to Evan like he just signed his death warrant.

  Shit. I didn’t think about this beforehand and now I’ve put Evan in the middle of it with a target on his back. I’m not supposed to leave their sides without one of them watching my every move but I need a moment to myself. My emotions swirling out of control after the day I’ve had, trying to drown me, and I refuse to let anyone see me this way. My gaze flickers to Nicky for a hot second just before we leave the school behind, my throat closing at the look of red-hot hatred in his emerald eyes.

  At least Tey looks amused as he laughs his ass off, pointing at the jeep with that unicorn next to a huge motorcycle. That beast must be Dalton’s, it has motorcycle club written all over it with the all black, shiny body and long handlebars.

  “Should we just keep driving and never look back?” Evan asks jokingly, but by the uneasy way he keeps glancing out his side mirror, I think he’s serious. “So, where to?”

  “You know where Logan lives?” Speak of the devil.

  I glance out of my side mirror, seeing a fabulous sports car racing right behind us and a pissed off owner inches away from Evan’s bumper. It’s strange that I hate Logan but don’t at the same time. Growing up around criminals my whole life, I’ve seen true evil so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I end up running right back into them headfirst. It’s different though. These guys are dangerous, psycho, and possessive but I don’t see empty stares that are void of any emotion. Each time I look directly at them, something is sparked alive in their gaze. Either with anger, violence, or lust. It scares me and yet gives me a rush I’ve been longing for. So it doesn’t bother me that Logan is chasing after me, probably thinking of a way to punish me but little does he know I’m looking forward to it. Maybe it’s because the fucker had his cock shoved so far up inside me that I saw stars I never thought I’d reach. I may have a love/hate relationship going on with him, but he gave me a piece of what living can feel like. My body tingles, raw desire shivering down my spine. I want more, to live until I’ve had it all. He doesn’t even know what he started.

  “Yeah, everyone knows where the princes live. They throw epic parties, not that I’ve ever been. I just hear the rumors.” Evan starts to sweat, I can’t tell if it’s because of the humid air or the devil hot on our tails.

  “Sweet. I’m staying there, so you can just drop me off at the gate.” The jeep swerves before jerking back into our lane.

  “I, uh, what? Yo-you live with him?!” He practically shouts and curses when he jerks the wheel to the right to avoid Logan as he whips out from behind us and cuts us off.

  I watch him speed away in heavy Los Angeles traffic as I grab the oh shit bar and know he isn’t going far so he can still keep an eye on me.

  “Unfortunately. He’s my stepbrother.” Leaving it at that, I don’t go into detail.

  I let people think what they will. I learned a long time ago when someone has made up their mind, they won’t hear a damn thing you're saying. Believe me, I’ve tried to slip hints, and even straight out told people that I needed help but no one heard me.

  “I just about shit my pants. Give a guy a warning before you drop that little piece of information. I’m not one to pry but if you ever need to, um, talk… I’m here. It’s scary out there, ya know? You need a friend and well, so do I. Plus there is no escaping me now, finders keepers,” Evan jokes, blushing a bright red but he takes his eyes off the road to look at me.

  He’s serious. Even though the thought makes my palms sweat, I think I can trust him enough to let him in. One day at least but not today.

  “Just drive, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” I laugh as he beams at me, doing a little dance wiggle in his seat.

  What a nerd. Maybe not all is bad in this fucked up world, one can only pray or take it into her own hands and fuck shit up. Here’s to hoping I know what I’m doing and that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

  The moment Evan dropped me off, wishing me luck and exchanging numbers, I headed right for my room. Logan’s car was in the driveway but I didn’t see him or anyone else for that matter as I entered the house. Locking myself in my room sounded like a brilliant plan, so here I am after a shower. An hour later and clean from sticky soda, I sit in the middle of my bed and watch like a hawk for my bedroom door knob to start turning any second. I really am messed up in the head because I almost hope that Logan comes in here fuming. I want his anger as fucked up as that sounds. When he was fucking me, it was like he was putting all that rage into one place to focus and that focus was me. My g
aze flickers to the bathroom door, making me shiver.

  No. Guys like him feed on that power, once he has the girl, he’ll take his fill then throw her to the side. That can’t be me, no matter how tempting it is. Maybe I can find that somewhere else? I tried with trucker Adam but he didn’t make the blackness disappear. Maybe I’m never meant to feel anything again, given one piece of heaven and that’s all I deserve.

  Tarnished. Exposed. Dirty.

  That’s how I feel day in and day out, my soul will never be clean again. No matter how much I scrub my skin, try to look different, be different… I’m still going to be Tillie. The girl who grew up in a motorcycle club of bad fucking people, raped by people who were supposed to live by the motto of having my back, blood in and blood out. I’m the girl who will always look over her shoulder, knowing that Cruz is always going to be one step behind even with hundreds of miles to separate us. I can’t run from the past but I can accept my future even if it’s dark skies.

  Three rapid knocks at my door make me jump and dive for the knife under my pillow, hiding it behind my back. Diana pops her head in, her blonde bob straight and styled perfectly. You wouldn’t think that this woman was a wreck for two whole days but here she is all put together and I hate that instantly. I know it’s ridiculous but I don’t want her to have this perfect life, safe behind her walls while I’ve only known true terror. It’s not fair of me, but it’s what I feel.

  “Till. Why don’t you come join us for dinner downstairs and get to know your stepfather and brother?” she says, smiling softly but it’s the way her brown eyes crease at the corners that tells me I don’t have a say in this matter.

  She has to know what I went through back at the compound... She has to. I practically told her as much. Yet, she stands there in her nice clothes, pearl clutching necklace, and acts like everything is normal. Next, she’ll be asking me to have tea with her out in the garden like the freaking queen. My stomach cramps, at least Lorrie wasn’t pretending with me. She always showed her true colors even when they were ugly.

  “Sure. I um, about the other day… I’m thankful, I really am, that you have taken me into your home. I’m not sure what you expect from me, not sure if I can be someone who you have pictured in your head. I’m damaged, the Jokers made sure of tha-” She cuts me off by clearing her throat loudly and not staring at me, but somewhere over my shoulder.

  “The past is the past, dear. No need to bring it up. You're here now and this gives me a chance to have the daughter I’ve never had. Now come along before dinner gets cold.” She turns on her high heels, the sound of them clicking on the marble floor and down the staircase fades away as I sit there in disbelief.

  How can she be that cold? I get that seeing your, what you thought was your dead daughter come back from the grave basically, can be a shock and hard to deal with but to dismiss my past like it’s nothing… it leaves me feeling empty. I didn’t want to talk about my time there, I just needed her to understand that I can’t be what she wants.

  I hear a door slam downstairs and quickly change into white Chanel sweats with a matching long sleeved crop top. Jesus. These designer clothes are the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn and the price tags on them make my heart race. I’m used to men throwing me money on stage but never would I have thought to waste money on clothes. It just really blows my mind. I do have an itch to dance, it’s been almost a week. I hated the dancing on stage part with all the leering men but I didn’t mind using the pole to dance with. It’s a great way to see what the body can do and how much strength it takes. Maybe there’s a studio or something I can go to, I need to release all my pent up anger and energy somehow. Lost in my thoughts, I’ve wandered down into the kitchen and don’t see anyone until I keep walking and find the dining room.

  A glossy oak table that seats twelve sits in the middle of the room with the dim lighting of a three tier chandelier hanging right over the middle of the table. Diana, I refuse to call her Mom, sits on the left side right next to Franco who sits at the head of the table like a man who rules over his household. Logan sits on his other side, glaring straight ahead. I think the only time I haven’t seen him glare was when he was balls deep inside of me. My eyes roam around the table, trying to figure out where I should sit, maybe on the other end as far away from them.

  “Sugar boo,” Tey whispers in my ear from behind me, making me jump, “Come sit next to me. I promise I don’t bite… much.” The way his voice goes soft and raspy tells me that he has teeth and isn’t afraid to use them.

  Why do I like that?

  He steps around me, brushing his arm against my shoulder, and goes to sit next to Logan, patting the seat beside him. Rolling my eyes, I take the offered chair and wait for something to happen. I’ve never had dinner with a family before, it was always just me and Uncle Rig eating at the picnic table outside on hot days in the Nevada heat. So far, I’m not impressed and maybe I didn’t miss out on much. No one is talking. The only sounds are knives slicing perfectly through prime rib and closed mouth chewing.

  Alrighty then.

  “This looks really good. Must have taken a long time to cook.” I tell Diana to break the awkward silence and ignore Logan choking on his drink just as he took a sip.

  “Oh heavens no. I don’t cook. A chef comes in three times a week and cooks all of our meals. I just have to preheat everything,” she says, hardly touching her plate, and swirling her wine glass before taking a large swallow.

  I honestly don’t know how to respond so I decide to stuff my face instead. The prime rib melts in my mouth, a quiet moan slips past my lips as my eyes close in bliss. Fingers grasp the top part of my thigh causing my eyes to snap open and look down. I watch as long, strong fingers squeeze and slide over me until they grip the inside of my closed legs. Glancing up from under my lashes, I watch Tey as he continues to eat without looking at me while squeezing the inside of my thigh like he is giving me a massage. It feels so damned good. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, shouldn’t like it. Hell, his friend was just inside of me the other day. Why is he touching me?

  My hand covers his in a death grip to make him stop before he heads further north. I almost choke to death on my food when he takes my hand quickly and places it right over his lap. His cock is hard, really hard, and I try to snatch my hand away without anyone noticing but he just tightens his fingers around mine.

  “How was school, Tillie? The boys told me you made a new friend already and he was kind enough to drive you home,” Franco suddenly says, my movements stall when he speaks, but I decide to squeeze Tey’s cock in a painful grip as retaliation.

  Looking directly into Franco’s eyes, I feel my own widen when Tey’s cock grows bigger and harder in the tight grip I have him in. I shouldn’t be surprised, I already know Tey is crazy from the first time we met. I try to concentrate on Franco and what he asks until his words register in my mind. He’s keeping tabs on me, which I expected nothing less but to throw it out there so casually tells me enough. He doesn’t trust me.

  “Yes. He was kind enough to give me a ride home. I didn’t want to be a burden for you or your son.” I lie between my teeth and sneak a glance at Logan to see him looking at my hand… which is kind of squeezing and stroking his friend’s cock without meaning to.

  When he glances up, it’s with narrowed eyes but I can see his intense desire, enough that it causes my breath to catch and I become unbearably wet the longer he stares. What is with these men? Jesus, it’s like I’m a virgin all over again and just found out how her body works with a man.

  “Nonsense. They are happy to watch out for you. No more stranger car rides, Tillie, we are just trying to keep you safe,” Franco says slowly, his dark brown eyes crinkle at the corners when I shift my gaze over to him, his smile stiff as he cuts into his meat all the while not looking away from me like he’s imagining cutting me into tiny pieces.

  It’s hard to keep eye contact and I’m the first to break away, glancing down, pretending to act submi
ssive. I’m startled to see my whole hand wrapped almost completely around the hard length of Tey’s cock that’s creeping down his thigh. I try to move my hand away from him again but his strong fingers over mine hold him tighter. I can’t move even if I wanted to, the crazy fucker is practically moaning into his mashed potatoes at the painful grip. I eye the knife on the table, wondering if I can get away with stabbing him in a bloody mess and making a run for the door without getting caught. Deep in thought, I notice how quiet it is and look up to see everyone staring at me like they know just where my hand is under the table linen.

  “Of course. I’m very grateful to you for looking out for me and welcoming me so kindly into your home.” The sarcasm is clear in my voice, I escaped one prison and may have ended up in another without meaning to.

  I need to leave, I don’t even care if it’s to a bench downtown in the cold and surrounded by other homeless people. It’s better than being under these people’s thumb, where they have you until your last dying breath. I’m not stupid, I know they are into some shady shit. It’s evident in the way the guys hold themselves and seem to get away with just about anything. Hell, Dalton was getting a blowjob from a teacher, putting her in her place when I interrupted and she followed along with it. Everyone seems to give them a wide berth with wary caution. It’s a look I know enough. People fear them and that will only lead to trouble for me, for fuck sakes Dalton is connected to another motorcycle club. It’s only a matter of time before someone recognizes me or they sell me out. I don’t even want to know what kind of business they are in, but I’m curious what Logan’s dad does for a living. It just doesn’t add up.