“When Derrick’s parents were twenty-five, his mom caught his dad talking to a nineteen-year-old online. Dirty shit…” she pauses and bites her glossy lower lip. “That’s definitely creepy if you ask me.”
“Who’d you hear this from?” I let out a quick sigh and Elaina laughs.
“My dad’s the Sheriff. He knows a lot of stuff he probably shouldn’t.”
I shake my head at her, flicking my black hair over my shoulder as I tighten our arms and head into class.
There’s a sickness inside of me. A sick curiosity that I feel blooming, and what does it say about me that Elaina’s words don’t deter me, but rather, feed the questions? Her words spread the poison of my intrigue, flooding it through my body until I can’t stop thinking of him. His eyes, the way they lingered on me. Maybe I can just have this one little secret. Maybe, he can be the key to my shadow self.
***
It’s comforting to come home. I’ve been staying at Krista and Charles’ place for a few days and coming back to my own room, my own stuff, and my own world is refreshing. The gateman to our private neighborhood automatically lets me in and I jog the rest of the way to my house.
Dad is in his study and I smell the scent of freshly cooked food in the kitchen. He pays for a woman to come by and cook dinners and clean our house four out of seven days in the week, which helps us not feel as lonely, I think. I have always wondered why he doesn’t marry again. Maybe there is no one in town up to his standards.
“Savannah!” My dad calls from the other room, and I hastily make my way there, stumbling over my bag in the process.
As I round off into the study, I stop in the doorway.
It’s a spacious room set one step below the first-floor level. His entire office is set up here, and the multi-monitor tech center shows his dedication to his work. He works as a data analyst for a large company in Dubai and spends much of his time checking in and crunching numbers. It’s why, oftentimes, he doesn’t have time for me. Not that I mind. We don’t really have the best relationship.
“You’re late. Where were you?” he asks.
“I stopped by Red Thorn Diner on the way home with the cheer team,” I say.
Part of this is true. Elaina and I, and a few other girls, did stop by and pick at a basket of fries. But Derrick had stopped by and we ended up making out on the side of the building. I can still taste him on my lips. His tongue salty from the food, his hair smelling like Axe body spray. He kissed me with passion as if he’d strip me bare right there against the chipped white siding of the diner and have his way with me. I kissed him back minimally. I always wonder: can he tell? Can he feel my lack of investment?
“You said you’d be home at four o’clock and it’s six,” he says, and from behind his desk, he looks like he might just jump across the open space between us and throw me to the floor. And I believe that he’s capable, especially with the fire and rage pulsing in his eyes. It’s times like these that I wish I was staying at Derrick’s. At least then I wouldn’t have to explain my every move.
“Sorry, I should have texted,” I grumble, and cross my arms.
“Phone,” he snaps.
I come forward and lay my sleek iPhone down onto the edge of his desk, and his eyes flash up at me. I stare down at the sparkling rhinestones on my pink phone case, focusing on the glitter.
“Do you have a game tomorrow?” he asks, curbing his irritation.
“Yes.”
“You’ll get this back tomorrow,” he tells me crisply. “Eat, then go to bed.”
I try not to roll my eyes, but apparently, he sees some form of resistance in me because he reaches out and grabs my wrist, rolling the bones between his strong fingers.
“You’ll show me respect.”
I don’t meet his eyes and stay calm. If I’m not calm it will only make him angrier. Any reveal of emotion and I could make things a thousand times worse. There’s no end to the types of punishment, the creativity, that he can dole out. In fact, I think he gets a sick satisfaction out of his control of me. Sometimes I wonder if mom gave up so quickly because she couldn’t handle living with him, that life didn’t seem worth living because of his oppressive nature, and her lack of escape—making her succumb to the illness that much quicker.
“I didn’t mean disrespect,” I say, voice as taut as guitar strings. “Sorry.”
“You will be sorry if you don’t change your attitude,”
He releases my wrist and I turn on my heel and grab myself some of the food still on the stove, then take it up to my room. I pad up the carpeted stairs quietly, swallowing the bile in my throat. Trying, as hard as I can, not to be afraid of him. I hate being afraid.
But I’m eighteen. I’m going to apply to an array of elite universities and work my way out of here. Until then, I’ll stay as quiet as I can. I’ll be a mouse, surviving on crumbs and avoiding the cat, until I’m free.
I know I’m good at succeeding at trivial things like grades and jobs. I’ve had to be good. I didn’t have the option of behaving otherwise. But, these things aren’t what really matter, are they? Maybe people like to believe they are, maybe those are easier outward achievements to boast about. Everything else falls to the wayside because it’s either too hard or doesn’t fit in the picture of what they want their life to be.
I go to my bed and set the plate at the end, stomach sour. Then, I go to the first drawer of my dresser. The money I’ve been saving is still there under my first layer of panties, a couple thousand that’ll be my key to a little more freedom.
I’ve been saving for over a year, taking all the money dad gives me and stowing it away. As I flip through the cash, I imagine having my own car. No more walking on foot everywhere. No more waiting around for the girls or Derrick to take me to the mall or coffee.
If Dad even lets me buy a car. I’ll have to bring it up to him first and try to make it worth his while.
Throwing myself back onto the bed, I wonder what Wyatt’s picture of life is. What he wants out of it. Maybe he’s just free-floating like me, positioned in a path that we can neither ignore nor leave.
The travesty is that everyone just keeps going like sheep following their shepherd, and no one dares question the setup. I have a feeling that Wyatt questions everything, that beyond his brooding stare that he’s thinking about the world and why it’s so fucked up, why we are what we are, and why we can’t just…stop.
Wyatt
“Got it all?”
Jade leans against her mottled wood fence, watching me as I pluck out the rest of the weeds in her garden bed. The scent of traditional Chinese food wafts from her windows and the open back screen of her porch, making my stomach clench with hunger.
I glance up at her, her body outlined by sunlight. She wears dark wash jeans and a loose t-shirt, one hand slipped into her back pocket. The breeze tugs at the loose fabric over her tight belly, showing off how slim her stomach is. If I wasn’t so fucked in the head I’d be attracted to her.
“Yeah,” I hop up and pat my hands on my jeans. “Nice way to start a Saturday, that’s for damn sure.”
“I knew you couldn’t resist,” she teases. “Lunch is ready.”
I follow her inside and she loads up my plate.
“So,” she starts as we dig into the food, sitting at her round chestnut dining table. “How’s the kid?”
“Just like me when I was his age,” I chuckle. “The boy’s a quarterback, he’s entitled, cocky…”
“And that’s how you were when you were younger?” she laughs, and I’m surprised at how light and carefree her laughter is. I don’t think I’ve seen her like this before. The way her dark hair contrasts with her light skin, falling across her features as she laughs, makes my head spin. I wish I wanted her.
“Oh yeah, are you kidding?” I grunt, taking a sip of ice water. “I was the cockiest bastard on the field.”
“Now you’re a changed man, is that what you’re going to tell me?” Her stance shifts so that her
arms cross over her small breasts.
They’re smaller than Savannah’s, and my thoughts drift toward the young woman’s full, beautiful breasts. My stomach twists as I imagine her standing there in my room in nothing but a towel. I imagine how things might have gone if she’d dropped the towel and revealed her tight young body to me. My cock twitches in my pants, and I curse in my mind. Betrayed by the beast inside me.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” I grumble, digging into the lunch Jade’s provided.
“So, aren’t there football games every Saturday during the season?” Jade asks. “I’d love to come and watch your son sometime.”
“Oh, really?” I say through a thick bite, swallowing and then leaning back in my chair. “You know what? I think he has a home game tonight. Why don’t we go?”
“Mr. Draper, are you asking me on a date?” she giggles, and paws at my shoulder.
Fuck. I don’t know how else she was supposed to take it. I guess I know she’s into me. I can tell that many of the single women in town have had their eyes on me. I’m just not ready to commit, not to anyone. My secrets are safer in my haven of loneliness. I don’t want to think about not having my time alone at night to ponder her…to think about her, and the way that life is so fucking cruel as to put her at age eighteen and me at thirty-four.
“I guess that’s what we’ll call it,” I offer her a wry smile, and she flushes with excitement.
Poor fucking girl.
***
How long has it been since I’ve been to a game? This is probably the first of the season for me. I’ve been to maybe one of his practices, but otherwise, I don’t like coming. So it makes me a deadbeat, in a sense. But Derrick has Charles. He doesn’t need me, does he? Usually, I’m too busy, working at the shop over the weekends on jobs the guys left unfinished.
I think Derrick understands. Krista, however, does not. But it’s painful to come here, to see them all cheering him on collectively, while I stand on the outskirts like an eyesore. Something that doesn’t belong. In fact, my entire life I’ve felt like I haven’t belonged. Once I was out of High School, I lost myself. I thought that the dream I was living would keep going, but reality helped to fizzle the dream life I thought I had. The picture cracked and then I was damned.
“Wow! There are a ton of people here!” Jade comments, her voice stacked with awe.
“The town loves to support its local youth,” I comment, holding off the tightness in my voice.
It’s true. This town, with all the rich mommies and daddies, is full of overbearing parents who want to see their kids kick ass at something just to boast about it at dinner parties later. I’m lucky I’m not invited to those sorts of things. Prim and proper disgusts me, and this town is too fucking small for me to know that these people are anything but.
I do work with them all, and what I overhear in passing reveals that this is just one giant massive charade. We’re all playing our roles, doing our jobs, but in the darkness? Truth is a heavy weight none of us can move.
“Will your ex-wife be here?” Jade asks, a sliver of doubt in her tone.
“Nope, not today. She and her husband are gone for the weekend,” I tell her as we walk toward the bleachers. I pay for our entry and then we find seats. We sit closer to the field than I’d like. Usually, I head all the way to the back.
“So, who are they playing?” Jade leans her shoulder against mine, the sensation unfamiliar and strange. Straight shiny black hair flows over toward me, and I retract from her immediately.
“I think Post Falls High,” I say, referencing the town around half an hour away from us.
She makes a noise of understanding and moves her body away from mine. Can she tell that I don’t want the contact? I wonder if she’s offended. I did ask her out here on the preface that it was a date. I scowl out at the field, searching for Derrick as the football teams disperse. I shouldn’t have ever asked her to come.
Then my body goes cold. It’s like I’m smacked with a mallet to the face, or doused in ice water. Down by the front of the field, closest to us, are the cheerleaders. I recognize her shiny black hair immediately as it swings in a long high-ponytail decorated with a ridiculously large bow. Her cheer uniform is so fucking tiny I want to rip my hair out. What is this, the Dallas Cowboys cheer squad? Her mini skirt flares out, barely covering the curve of her ass, allowing anyone’s eyes to wander down and imagine just what she’d look like underneath the white fabric covering her cunt. Her long tan legs command attention, the way she stands it’s as if she knows that men would die for her. Her confidence permeates every move she makes, every expression, every small shift in her stance.
“Are you okay?” Jade peers at me, craning her neck to see what I’m looking at, and I force out a coughing chuckle.
“Just fine.”
“You know, I used to come to the games when I was a teen. My friend and I would load up on candy, dress up in spirit colors, and scream for our team the entire night,” she laughs at the memory, and I clear my throat, trying to stifle the magnetic pulse I feel toward Savannah.
The girl turns around and I see that the short green and white top reveals her washboard belly. I focus on her belly button. What I wouldn’t give to trace it with my tongue.
“Yeah. I was always on the field. I liked hearing those types of cheers though,” I say mindlessly, and Jade smiles.
“So, Derrick is what…seventeen now?” She asks.
“Yeah,” I affirm. “Yeah. He’s already applying for colleges. He’s hoping to get a football scholarship.”
“I’m sure he’ll find something,” she says encouragingly just as the band starts to play the Star-Spangled Banner. God, the sound of the blaring trumpets mingled with the wheezy clarinets and deep trombone’s really brings me back. We stand and place our hands over our chests out of respect.
I can’t stop my eyes from lingering on her, the way she stands so straight like she’s a puppet and there’s a string coming out of her head connected to the sky. Her curves make my cock tense firmly, and I try everything but looking away from her to prevent myself from getting hard.
What would it be like, getting her alone in that tight little outfit? I wish I could bend her over my table, flip that tiny skirt up, and slap her ass cheeks until they’re bright red. Then I’d kiss my handprints and work the skirt down over her smooth skin, revealing her dripping, swollen…
“So, let’s just cut to the chase,” Jade reaches out a hand, her fingers clamping over my wrist. “I’ve been inviting you over to my house on the weekends for what…four months?”
“Yeah?” I growl out, my vision hazy from my thoughts. “So?”
Jade sighs and I meet her gaze. I’ve seen this look before. This is the look of a woman who wants answers. Who wants more from me than I’ll ever be able to give her.
“So…” a wayward smile curves her lips. “I’m getting the impression you like me, Mr. Draper.”
“Of course, I like you,” I offer her a thin smile, something insubstantial and meant to placate. “You’re fun.”
“I have a feeling you don’t like to let anyone too close,” Jade sighs and links her arm with mine. She snakes her hand down my forearm and laces our hands, and I freeze, not knowing what to do. “I’m not Krista, Wyatt. I’m a real woman looking for a real man.”
Her words force me to look into her eyes. Her dark brown irises are cozy with eagerness, with the warm tender devotion of someone who feels sorry for me. Or maybe she just wants to show me how genuine her feelings are. Too bad I don’t want her feelings.
“I…uh,” I blink a few times, and then glance out at the field.
Who am I kidding? I’m not good enough for Jade, either. If she could read my thoughts she’d send me to jail. I’m sure she has her cuffs and gun on her now. But I guess sometimes people need to be screwed over to get the message. I grit my teeth and look back at her. I wish I could want this woman. She’s good. Her life is ready for someone
to storm in and join her steady world. She’s prepared for companionship, for love, for friendship, and for all things that marriage and family promises but never keeps. She’s hopeful, and that alone makes my heart squeeze with guilt.
“I don’t think you’d want to be with someone like me, Jade. I’m six years older than you. You should go out and find someone your age.”
Jade’s eyes flutter for a few moments and she presses her lips together.
“You’re a real ass, aren’t you?” she mutters and then shakes her head in disbelief. “Why can’t you accept that someone cares about you?”
“Because I don’t care about myself. I can’t have someone like you coming in and playing Savior. I’m not going to be saved, or changed, or whatever the hell these girls think they’re going to do to men like me. I work, do what I have to do, and live my life. I don’t have room for…”
Before I can finish off the powerful statement of closure meant for her, she grabs my cheek and presses her lips to mine. I’m stunned, unable to move or think. Frozen to my spot as she gently nibbles my lips and moves her head to show her passion.
Then she draws back, and my mouth drops open slightly. What just happened?
“Fine,” she swallows, brows smoothing out into complacency. “Be alone.”
She doesn’t move. We settle back into our seats in silence, minds buzzing with thought. I know she’s thinking that she’s won this, that maybe she’s cracked my resolve and made my cock twitch for her. But it hasn’t, and that tells me that something is gravely wrong with me.
The game has begun, and I follow the plays. But Savannah catches my eye, yet again. I’m a moth and she’s the light.
This time, she’s looking at me. Staring up at me with giant blue eyes that haunt me to my core. Her face betrays no emotion, no thought or feeling, yet she stares. This eye contact stabs me as if she’s just thrown a javelin at my heart. Did she see Jade kiss me? For some reason, this deeply, deeply disturbs me. I clench my teeth and stare back at her, daring her to be the first to look away.
The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One Page 3
