A Kiss For You

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A Kiss For You Page 56

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Because I actually liked having her around.

  Somewhere, somehow, my anger toward her had turned to some sort of fucked-up affection.

  Which I had to put a stop to right a fucking away, because any sort of feelings for her other than contention and lust would only get in the way of the plans I had for her.

  She was afraid of me. That much was obvious, but there was a fire there, too, and the more she fought it, the more it turned me on.

  The way her body reacted to me told me that there was only so long she could resist the inevitable. The inevitable being me fucking her until she couldn’t remember her own name.

  It’s not like she knew it anyway.

  But I did.

  An unfamiliar nagging feeling tugged at my gut.

  Guilt maybe?

  I brushed it off. There wasn’t time to entertain any feelings of guilt. A better opportunity to get Max back was not going to just fall into my lap like this again. And in the meantime, I was going to spend my time with her as I pleased. In her case, that meant doing everything I had to make her warm, wet, and willing.

  “Boss-man!” Preppy shouted, bounding into my studio with his pupils dilated, forgetting to blink like he’d just snorted blow by the fucking truck full.

  “What’s up, Prep?” I asked, putting the finishing touches on the tattoo Pup had sketched for me. After I saw it, I needed it on my skin, immediately and permanently and for the life of me I didn’t know why. But after it was done, I felt like a weight was lifted.

  “What the fuck is that?” Preppy asked, pointing to the back of my hand. I wiped off the excess ink and blood and held it up so he could see.

  “It’s a tattoo, dumb-ass. Or did you forget what it is I do in this room?”

  “I know it’s a tattoo, fucker. I just wanted to know why you were tattooing yourself right now.”

  “You’ve seen me do it a hundred times so what’s the fucking big deal?” I barked, not liking Preppy’s third degree.

  “What exactly is it?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder as I put a layer of plastic wrap over the top.

  “It’s nothing. Pup drew it. What exactly is it you wanted?” I hated being short with him, but I wasn’t about to answer questions I myself didn’t exactly know the answers to.

  “I came to tell you two things actually. One is that Bear called, and he overheard his dad talking. Isaac’s coming to town. He’s not sure when, just knows he’s coming. Got eyes on him though. He hasn’t left Dallas yet.” The MC had a long-standing relationship with our former primary source of weed.

  “And?”

  “AND I’m pretty sure he’s probably a little pissed the fuck off that we cut him out as our supplier.”

  “I was locked up, and he didn’t want to deal with anyone but me. If he expected us to just do nothing until I got out, that was his mistake. We saw opportunity. We seized it. End of story.”

  “Yeah man, that’s the way you and I see it. But Bear overheard his dad saying that Isaac sees it more like a kick to his balls that he wants to pay back to us a thousand times over.”

  “I’m not hiding from Isaac, or anyone else. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where the fuck I live. Now, what’s the other thing you wanted to tell me?” I snapped.

  “Dude, you’re so fucking moody since you got out. You’re like a bitch on the rag twenty-four hours a day. The second thing I wanted to tell you is that I’m going to take Doe out on a date Saturday night.”

  “You’re going to fucking WHAT?” I suddenly wished my tattoo gun was a real one because with that one sentence, Preppy was walking into dangerous fucking territory.

  “She’s cool as shit, so I’m going to take her out. Maybe, a movie or something. The drive-in is playing some scary paranormal thing, and chicks fucking love that shit. Makes ’em all cuddly,” Preppy said, hugging himself with his arms.

  “Like fuck you are.” Not only was he not taking her out, I got the impression that scary wasn’t exactly Doe’s favorite genre. The girl’s been scared enough in real life.

  “Dude, I’m not going to fuck her. Unless that’s cool with you. In which case, I will most definitely fuck her.”

  I stood from my stool. It rolled back and crashed against the wall. “Not. A Fucking. Chance.” The thought of his hands on her made my stomach twist.

  “You don’t even like her,” he barked. “Besides, you don’t know anything about her. And that’s your fault because she may not know a lot about herself, but the little she does know you haven’t even bothered to ask her about.”

  He had a point, but Preppy didn’t know that there was a reason for that, and I planned to keep that reason to myself for the time being.

  “What exactly would you like for me to talk to her about? Because the where do you come from, what’s your name, thing doesn’t exactly apply in her case.”

  Preppy huffed and linked his fingers together behind his neck. “I don’t know. You could ask her something simple, like maybe, how she likes her sandwiches or something.”

  “Sandwiches. You want me to ask her about sandwiches?”

  “Why the fuck not? Everyone likes a delicious sandwich, and talking about them is better than talking about the heavy shit you seem to be carrying around these days.”

  This is why Preppy was my best friend. He saw right through me.

  “I know Max is important. I know we need to get her back, but until then, you still have a life to live, man. And talking to the girl, who for all intents and purposes is living in our house, isn’t going to get in the way of that.”

  That’s what you think.

  “Have you even fucked her yet? I mean, the chick sleeps in your bed and shit. What the fuck is that all about?”

  “That’s none of your fucking business,” I warned. He was crossing a line.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a no. Maybe, that’s why you’ve been so fucking grumpy since you got out. Maybe you just need to get some ass. Get laid. Get all up in there before your dick shrivels up and falls the fuck off.”

  “I’ve gotten laid since I’ve gotten out, so shut the fuck up about it. This isn’t about liking her or about fucking her. This is about me saying NO and you listening to me for once!”

  “King, you’ve been my best friend since the dinosaurs roamed the earth, so listen to me when I tell you that you look at her like you want to fuck her brains out, but you treat her like she’s garbage under your shoe. It’s not cool, man. You’re the one who decided to keep her here, which wasn’t the brightest idea to begin with, so let me have a little fun with her for fuck’s sake.”

  “This is about a debt that needs to be paid,” I said, unconvincingly.

  “Oh come on! We both know she didn’t take anything. And since when is it up to you to dole out life lessons on who needs to pay for what? You some kind of life coach now? Besides, she’s not your property. She’s a person, not a fucking car.”

  “That’s rich coming from you.” I’ve witnessed Preppy doing things that made even my skin crawl, but if he was going to throw my shit in my face, then I was going to throw his shit in his.

  “Seriously, she isn’t yours. You can’t just take her.”

  “Yes, she is mine, and I did just take her. She sleeps in my bed, doesn’t she? Next to me. I may not have fucked her, but it was me she turned to when she wanted to get off the other night, and me who gave her what she needed. So no, I haven’t fucked her, yet. But the answer is still no, you can’t fucking take her out,” I said through gritted teeth, I could feel my veins tighten as my blood pressure sky-rocketed.

  Preppy cocked his head to the side and smiled. A recognition of some sort settled over his face. “Well, she’s not my property. She’s my friend. So, if I can’t take her out, then you have to take her. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for her. She’s been through some shit, and we both know what that’s like. The kid deserves a break. A little fucking fun.”

  “Fuck no. I’m not going to fu
cking date her. And this isn’t up for debate. No date. No nothing. Just fucking drop it.” For the first time in my life, I felt like punching Preppy. He’s never coaxed that kind of anger from me before.

  “Man, get your fucking head out of your ass. She’s just a confused kid. Either you take her, or you let me take her. I may call you Boss-Man, but we’re friends, and that doesn’t mean you can make all my decisions for me. You may call the shots, but I’m still my own person. I’m not asking you here. I’m telling you.”

  “Fine!” I shouted. Throwing my arms up in the air. “Take her out on a fucking date. What the fuck do I care anyway? Go! Have a fucking blast!”

  I sat back down on my stool and pretended to fiddle with my equipment. Why the fuck I was getting so riled up to begin with was beyond me.

  Maybe, I’d just forgotten how to interact with people who weren’t wearing orange jumpsuits or correctional officer uniforms.

  “Awesome!” Preppy hopped from one foot to the other. “I’m going to go iron my good bow tie.”

  “Prep?”

  “Yeah, Boss-Man?”

  “It’s six in the fucking morning.”

  “And?”

  “You want to take her out on Saturday right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s Monday.”

  “Ah.”

  “So how about you go wipe the fucking blow from under your nose and get some fucking sleep. Iron your good bow tie tomorrow.” Preppy may not have to listen to me, but the need to tell him what to do would never go away.

  I’d forgotten while I was away that Preppy was one hell of a partier.

  We both were.

  Or, I used to be.

  Before Max.

  Before prison.

  Before her.

  Preppy wiped the powder from under his nostrils and rubbed it onto his gums.

  “Yes, sir,” Preppy said with a mock salute. He turned to leave.

  “And Prep?” I called out.

  “Yeah, Boss?” he asked, stopping mid-stride.

  “You’re taking her out as her friend only. You’ve got that?”

  “I’ve got that.”

  “Good. Because if you so much as touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  Doe

  “What is all this?” I asked, staring down at the plate upon plate of sliced meats and cheese.

  “Sandwich stuff.” King said, tossing me a roll.

  “Yes, I can see that. But why are we making sandwiches on the dock?”

  I wandered what his ulterior motive was. King didn’t seem like the type to picnic on the dock, no matter what the situation. Plus, in the entire time I’d been staying with King, he’d never once made a meal for me.

  Or even eaten a meal with me.

  “Because it’s a nice day to be outside, and because who the fuck doesn’t like sandwiches?” King sat on one of the plastic chairs surrounding wooden table that was screwed to the dock so it wouldn’t fly away during a storm. “And Preppy said…I don’t fucking know, just go with it.” King loaded his roll with salami and cheese and dug out a huge scoop of mayo from the jar with a spatula.

  “That’s enough mayo to choke a horse,” I said, carefully selecting turkey and bacon for my own sandwich.

  “Have you actually seen a horse choke from ingesting too much mayo?” he asked.

  “I very well could have. I just don’t remember.” I grabbed a handful of Cheetos from the bag and smashed them into the top slice of bread with both hands. King pulled the other chair up alongside his until the arms were touching and motioned for me to sit down.

  And then OUR arms were touching.

  “So what’s it like?” King asked, popping the top off a beer and handing it to me.

  “What’s what like?” I asked, setting my paper plate in my lap.

  “Not remembering anything. I keep thinking about what that would be like and I can’t imagine it.”

  “It’s…” I searched my brain for the words but only one popped into my mind over and over, “…empty.”

  “You’re a lot of things, Pup, but empty isn’t one of them.” King tucked an unruly strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Oh yeah? Then, you tell me what I am, because I can’t think of anything that doesn’t have to do with me losing my memory.” I took a bite of my lunch that was so big I could barely close my mouth around it.

  King laughed. “Well, for starters…you’re kind of quirky.”

  “Quirky?”

  “Pup, did you or did you not just put Cheetos on your sandwich?”

  “Duly noted. Okay, quirky. I can handle that. Keep going. What else do you think you know about me?”

  “Well, you’re bold. Brave. I would even go as far as to say that you’re irritatingly feisty. You speak about three hours before you think. You ask way too many goddamn questions. You have this dimple on your left cheek that comes out when you’re smiling, but it also shows up, along with the one on the right cheek, when you’re pissed off.” Embarrassment burned my neck as if I was standing too close to a fire. “Your neck and your face get red when you’re embarrassed. It starts at your neck. Right here.” King lightly wrapped the palm of his hand around my throat. “Then, it jumps up to your cheeks.” He brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. “Then, it travels all the way up to these ears.”

  He leaned in and sucked my earlobe into his mouth, trailing his tongue along the delicate flesh of my ears sending sparks of pleasure down my body. My nipples hardened and pressed up against my shirt.

  King chuckled and pulled back. “So don’t say that you’re empty, Pup, because you are anything but.” There was a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Something I hadn’t seen before. “I think you are, by far, the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “But stop trying to imagine what it would be like without your memory. You’re lucky you know who you are and where you belong.”

  King pulled at the label on his beer and sighed. “Sometimes, I wish I didn’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I could choose to wake up tomorrow and not remember who I am, the shit I’ve done, the people I would be leaving behind, I would do it. I could just start over. Be someone else.”

  “I don’t want you to be anyone else,” I blurted, interrupting his confession.

  “You should hate me,” King said, taking my plate from my lap and setting it on the table. “If I were you, I would hate me.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “And now? What do you think of me now?” King asked, leaning in closer.

  “I think you are the most stubborn, overbearing, anger inducing, obnoxious, complicated, and beautiful man that has ever lived.”

  “I think you are beautiful, too,” King breathed. In one graceful movement, he had me out of my chair and onto his lap.

  His hands had just slid into my hair when a loud crash sounded from the other side of the mangroves.

  “Stay the fuck here,” King ordered. He stood and tossed me off his lap. I crouched behind the cement retaining wall that separated the dock from the yard. King leapt over it effortlessly and ran in the direction of the garage, toward where the sound had come from.

  It seemed like I was there for hours, waiting for King to come back or for something to happen.

  Nothing.

  My stomach growled, and I was reminded that I had barely started my lunch. I scooted down to my ass and stretched out my leg in an effort to drag the chair that held my plate toward me. I hooked my foot around the leg of the chair and slowly pulled. It made a horrible scraping noise against the wood planks of the dock. I paused and waited.

  Nothing.

  So, I continued. Slowly, inch my inch, I dragged my lunch closer to me until my Cheetos smashed sandwich was within my reach. I pulled my plate off the seat and picked up my sandwich. I opened my mouth and was about to chomp down on victory when someone cleared their throat.

  With my sandwich still in launch-into-m
y-mouth position, I looked up from behind the bread to see both King and Bear standing on the top of the seawall, peering down at me.

  Bear looked just a good as he did the night I met him, but now, he looked even better. Because he was shirtless. His ab muscles glistened with sweat. I thought King had a lot of tattoos, but Bear didn’t have a single inch of available real estate left on his skin.

  King spoke first. “Oh no, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Just went to check out what that bomb like noise was, but you go ahead and finish your sandwich. We’ll wait.” He was smiling out of the corner of his mouth.

  Bear crouched down. “Oh shit. Check you out. Didn’t think you’d still be alive.”

  I put my plate down and stood up. “If you two are done mocking me, can one of you tell me what the fuck that noise was?”

  “Oh shit. Sorry, that was all me. This girl came over, and she’s got this old Volkswagen Bug. One thing led to another…”

  “I don’t want to know,” I interrupted.

  Bear continued, “All I was going to say is that while her lips were wrapped around my cock, I vaguely remembered promising to fix her bug for her. What you heard was that very car backfiring. For what I’m thinking was the very last time, because it’s dead. Like super dead. Like there is no coming back from that dead. Which totally blows cause the girl could suck the—”

  King held up a hand. “Okay, Bear, cut the bullshit, you can tell her what really happened.”

  Bear nodded and his phone rang. He pulled it out of his back pocket and clicked a button on the screen. “Yeah.” He scratched his beard. “Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell him.” He clicked the phone again and put in back in his pocket.

  “Isaac is on the move. Jimmy and BJ spotted him and his boys in Coral Pines this morning. Looks like they’ve got business there. BJ spoke to a guy in Isaac’s crew. They’ll be riding into our corner of the world in a week or so.”

  “Shit,” King cursed.

 

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