The Darkness Within

by Taylor K. Scott

  “Of course,” I whisper, trying hard to add conviction to my voice, even though I fear my attempts will be lacking. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I need to know how that necklace ended up in my room. I need to know what happened as soon as I left the party, and I need to know who the hell was at that party. You’ll have to ask Matt.”

  “Ok,” I reply shakily. Again, my confidence is virtually missing when I consider everything he is asking me to do. Mainly because Matt and I are not currently on speaking terms, given he tried to force me into something I didn’t want to do. Of course, I can’t tell Grant that because he’ll end up doing something that will get me kicked out of here by the heavily armed guard over there.

  “Don’t worry, Mills, I’m not going to ask you to do anything which will put you in danger. Just a little light snooping. Gabe will keep in contact with you from college and when you go to visit him, you guys can try and put together what you’ve found out.”

  “Ok,” I reply and breathe out slowly, thinking that maybe I can somehow figure this all out at a later date, preferably when I’m not inside of a prison. “I can do that.”

  “There’re only five minutes left,” he says looking sadly up at the clock. “Come see me in a month?”

  “Of course,” I smile and place my forehead against his. “I’ve got your back, remember?”

  He simply nods at the line he always used to feed me before everything went so horribly bad. He then sighs, long and hard, with his eyes closed while he savors this last piece of affection before I’m forced to leave him.

  “And stay away from Bowie Phillips, I don’t trust that creep!” he says, snarling over his name. It’s all I can do not to spill my guts right here and now, because, as I said, I’m an awful, awful liar. “Goodbye Mils…I love you, tubs.”

  “Love you too, ass face.”

  As soon as I get out onto that neatly mowed lawn, complete with its freshly cut grass smell, I breathe it in with such large gulps I almost choke on it. The need for oxygen outweighs my natural instincts to try and stop my gag reflex from stepping in, so I continue to gasp with greedy breaths, all the while trying to hold my tears at bay. If I let those traitorous little bastards out, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop them, which is not a good look when standing directly outside of a prison.

  I lean against the large sign for the car park, which helps to steady my breathing and make me look less like I’m drowning on land and more like I’ve just got back from running a light jog. Two large, leather-clad arms suddenly encircle me from behind, causing me to gasp all over again. I open my eyes with such urgency, I probably look like a modern-day Disney princess.

  “Woah!” a familiar voice, one that instantly relieves me, calls out from behind.

  “You scared the crap out of me Gabe!” I swat pathetically at his jacket, but he just chuckles with mischief.

  His badass bike, the one which is practically as stunning as he is, is currently parked up alongside the curb opposite to where we’re standing. I throw my bag from my shoulder and begin fishing out bike appropriate clothing, the type that’s hopefully going to stop me from getting ripped to shreds should he lose control during one of his daredevil stunts. It’s never happened so far but I’ve seen the effects of girls wearing miniskirts on motorbikes; it’s not pretty in the aftermath of a high-speed skid along the road.

  Just as I’m removing my modest, knee-length dress with expert precision, meaning no one gets to see any naked bits during the exchange of clothing, I notice him watching me with a certain level of amusement. It’s one that’s a few notches higher than his usual smug but incredibly sexy smirk.

  “What?” I huff, knowing he’s got something totally inappropriate to say.

  “I don’t know, Mils, you sure have grown up over the last year,” he says, then chucks the spare helmet towards me, “nearly eighteen now, aren’t you?”

  “Nearly,” I grin back, shaking my head over his usual flirting.

  “Good to know,” he mutters with a lift of his brow, but I just roll my eyes and climb onto the bike behind him. “You ready to go home?”

  “Absolutely!” I sigh happily and put the big black helmet onto my head, ready to enjoy the freedom of the next hour or so as we fly through the traffic with carefree abandonment.

  Chapter 18

  Amelia

  It’s dusk when we finally arrive back. The nights are already beginning to draw in and there’s a smell of Autumn in the air. Even the trees are beginning to make way for the change of season, their leaves turning a myriad of oranges, yellows, and reds. I can hear the swarms of birds overhead, leaving us behind for somewhere warmer, somewhere brighter, for the long, winter months.

  I hand Gabe his spare helmet and kick at a few fallen leaves scattered around on the lawn below, knowing that he needs to go, and I will be left alone again. My hair blows around in swirls over my shoulders, prompting him to push my loose tendrils behind my ears before he finally pulls me in for a long embrace, complete with brotherly type kisses to the top of my head.

  “I would stay but I’ve got one hell of an assignment to finish by Tuesday, so I better head back,” he says guiltily, and I try desperately not to look too disappointed. “Unless you wanna be my biker bitch?”

  I laugh when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, always knowing how to pull me out of a funk, even if it is only for a moment or two. I pat his shoulder and point to his bike, silently telling him to go before I get all emotional again. As he thunders down my suburban road, with extra rev just for fun, I spy a face I wasn’t expecting to see until Monday.

  My face immediately screws up in confusion when Bowie strides across the road with angry steps, before getting right up in my face and looking at me like I’ve wronged him in some unspeakable way.

  “What the hell was he doing here and where have you been with him?” he shouts with accusatory narrowed slits for eyes.

  “None of your business!” I scoff and turn to walk up to my front door, giving him neither an explanation nor a reaction to his unwarranted little temper tantrum.

  I slide my key inside of the lock before turning it to open the door with my foot as I swing my bag down onto the floor to one side. I then push the door back with my hand, not even bothering to turn around to look at the asshole who thinks getting his panties in a twist is worthy of my time. However, when I don’t hear a bang or even a click of the door closing, I swing around to find Bowie walking in behind me, still looking like someone just took a dump on top of his brand-new Tesla.

  “What are you doing?!” I shout, making it abundantly clear I’m not impressed by the whole alpha asshole routine. “I didn’t invite you in!”

  “I know, but I was hoping we could talk,” he says, softening a little under my equally pissed-off glare. “I, er…I saw Sam this weekend.”

  “Oh,” I reply, now dropping some of my attitude too. He’s never talked about Sam to me, apart from when he was shoving the fact that Grant was in jail for raping her. This is new so I place my hands defensively inside of my pockets and shuffle awkwardly about on my feet. “How is she?”

  “She’s good,” he nods, then looks to the floor, now appearing to be just as uncomfortable as I feel. “But kind of pissed with me.”

  “Ok,” I say, drawing the word out slowly, failing to see what this has to do with me, “and you’re here about it because…?”

  “She’s pissed because I told her about us, Millie!” he blurts out.

  “Why in God’s name would you do that?!” I cry an octave or two higher than usual and begin walking away before I hit him somewhere that would no doubt render his tackle useless. “How utterly humiliating!”

  “Because I felt…things and I didn’t know how to handle them,” he mumbles, before running his hand through his thick, silky, soft hair. My fingers twitch involuntarily as I remember running my own hand through his locks only two nights ago, right on top of that breakfast bar, before we…

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nbsp; “Not my problem, Bowie, and if you’re feeling guilty, don’t!” I shrug nonchalantly. “I made the call, so don’t even worry about it. You’re absolved, so you can go, ok?”

  I throw myself down onto the sofa before lifting the remote to put on my good friends, Ren and Stimpy. Two bad boys I’ve been looking to chew the fat with ever since Gabe pulled up into my road only moments ago.

  “No, it’s not ok!” he growls, standing up tall in front of me and irritatingly blocking my vision. “Why are you acting so calm about losing your v-card to someone like me? Why doesn’t it mean anything to you?!”

  I merely shrug at him, which is clearly getting him even further riled up. Feeling delightfully wicked over his awkwardness, I indulge in the moment by reaching around his legs to switch the TV on behind. Ren’s distinctive accent blasts out of the speakers, but my uninvited guest soon grabs the remote from me and turns it off, placing it on the coffee table, far out of reach.

  “Hey!” I scowl at him, but he shocks me by sinking to his knees and taking my hands inside of his with a strange look in his eyes, one I’ve only seen him use with me on a single occasion. It’s the one he used on me after we had sex on Friday, and I suddenly have no idea where he’s going with this.

  “She thinks I like you!” He looks for some sort of recognition on my face, but I give him nothing but a furrowed brow and a whole lot of confusion. “She thinks I like, like you.”

  “Well, she’s clearly delusional then!” I eventually huff out, effectively protecting my heart from someone who has proven time and time again that he can’t be trusted, especially when it comes to me. “Bowie Phillips hates me. Bowie Phillips likes to bully and belittle me in front of others. Ok? So, now you can go home with a clear conscience and a clear head.”

  “I know what I’ve done to you in the past,” he says in a long sigh and looks sadly towards the floor, “and I’m sorry, really, I am. But after Friday, I think Sam might be right.”

  “Oh, please,” I almost laugh at the very idea, “let’s say you do like me, it would never go anywhere, because you, Bowie Phillips, are a coward.”

  “What?!” He jumps back so suddenly it looks unnatural, like he’s a cartoon character and I’m waiting for the canned laughter. “That’s bull!”

  I get back to my feet, ready to go at him now that we’re back to a much more familiar routine where we’re at each other’s throats; not kneeling and spouting off about our feelings for one another. It’s good, it’s reliable, it’s predictable, and will save my heart from being crushed again.

  “You would never go out and be seen with someone like me,” I smirk, taunting the bull who is looking at me like I’ve just accused him of being a serial killer. “It would ruffle too many feathers and ruin your reputation around school. People don’t like me; they look down on me, so if you started seeing me in public, your whole ‘cool kid’ persona would be decimated. Why do you think Matt only really acknowledges me outside of school? It’s because he’s just as much of a coward as you are!”

  “That’s…” he begins to argue, pointing his accusatory finger out towards me but then stops almost as suddenly when he realizes I’m right.

  “See yourself out, Bowie,” I breathe out heavily and begin walking upstairs to my room, ready to put an end to this day, even if it is only eight o’clock.

  I’ll need to remember to congratulate Mercy tomorrow because she is absolutely right when she frequently tells me that all men are idiots. She’ll give me her ‘I told you so’ look followed by a full interrogation as to how I came to this same conclusion, but the girl has earned it. That, downstairs, was just the kind of emotional bullshit I did not need after seeing my brother in prison today.

  I throw myself onto the bed looking at the ceiling that is still covered in fluorescent stars which look tacky in the daylight, but I’m too damn lazy to pull off. I suddenly feel exhausted by everything involving men and begin to make a pact with myself to never get involved with a guy with any hint of serious emotion behind it. My thoughts, however, are interrupted by my door being thrust open by Bowie, who is now scowling at me, with his go-to alpha stance; arms crossed, legs apart, and trying to make his broad physique look even bigger than it already is.

  “Yeah, you’re right, it is pretty weird if I’m seen to be going out with the sister of the guy who raped my sister,” he throws at me, but I simply lean up to look at him like he’s bat shit crazy for coming into my room uninvited. “And you and I don’t seem altogether compatible. For starters, my best mate says he’s in love with you and, I’ll admit, I’ve done some pretty questionable shit to you over the years, but…” he chuckles a little to himself like he can’t quite believe what he’s about to say, “but even you said, you can’t help who you do and don’t have feelings for. You also said you liked me, you let me have your virginity, and I know if I tried just a little bit harder to convince you, you’d let me have you right now, right here, on your bed. So, you feeling brave, Amelia?”

  “Maybe being brave is kicking you out again!” I argue, getting back up to walk over to the door to show him the way out. However, as I do so he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his body, where the top of my head only just reaches up to his chin.

  “Or maybe being brave is going after what you want? What do you really want?” he whispers into my ear before taking my wrist to his mouth, all the while his eyes are looking directly into mine, daring me to deny it.

  I gasp at his sudden touch but say nothing to stop him when he moves his hand to my left breast, kneading it like a professional masseuse, with his other still gripped loosely around my wrist. His lips move to my neck, fluttering down towards my collarbone, which feels so good I actually emit a squeak that reminds me of a dog whimpering for its food. I cringe over the sound, but it only encourages him to move his mouth onto mine, kissing me with more urgency as I lace my hands through his soft hair, moving with just as much primal need as he is.

  In one slick move, he picks me up and throws both of us onto the bed, where we’ll no doubt give into our bodies’ desires to consume one another, even if it did hurt like hell the last time. Something more instinctual, more animalistic is taking over from any fear I have, and I can’t even begin to fight it.

  We remain kissing, grinding against one another while trying to rip away any clothing with little grace or romance to it. His hand slips between my thighs and begins to swipe through my wetness below, making me flinch over the sloppy sounds of my own arousal. However, I soon dismiss it when I realize my partner in crime sure as hell doesn’t seem to care. He plays lazily with my clit and I grip hold of his biceps, digging my nails in as a familiar feeling of euphoria begins to build up inside of me, pushing me closer to a ledge I’m desperate to jump from.

  “Turn around,” he whispers as he pulls at my bottom lip between his teeth.

  “What?” I breathe out heavily, only half engaged in the exchange of words.

  “Do it!” he whispers more forcefully and stops his massage of my nerves altogether, leaving me feeling bereft and deeply frustrated.

  I huffily turn my back to him, but he soon pulls me up against his body, with his erection pressing in between my cheeks so that I instinctively move away from it. He chuckles darkly, no doubt knowing exactly what I’m worried about, but, once again, he pulls me back and moves downwards so his cock falls between a slightly different part of my anatomy, one I’m much more comfortable with. His hand then returns to its gentle massaging, just as I hear him fumbling with what sounds like foil being ripped between teeth.

  “Ready?” he murmurs into my ear, then bites playfully at my earlobe.

  “Yes,” I whisper, though not really feeling entirely convinced now that we’re here.

  He moves in slowly this time, still touching me with his hands, working past the sting of stretching me open again. I gasp, he hisses, and then he’s inside of me, rocking against my hips gently. It feels so much softer than the last time and begins to feel good, full and like
I want more. My breathing becomes uneven as the hand touching my nerves moves more and more rigorously, so much so, he takes it as a go-ahead to rock faster and harder against me. I move back onto him, needing so much more to get me to that ledge and to fall from it, only this time with him inside of me.

  “Let go, Millie,” he growls, nuzzling into my neck as he picks up the pace once again. “Use me, take me, punish me!”

  I scream into the pillow beneath me as an explosion, even more delicious than the last time, takes over and I feel my legs shudder below. He then takes my hand and flips me over, so I am underneath his body, so much bigger than mine, and begins to thrust inside of me while I’m still coming back down to Earth. I pull him in closer as he wraps his arms around my back, bucking his hips into mine and growling, now running at speed towards his own precipice.

  “Christ!” he shouts as he trembles above me, moving in and out of me a few more times before he comes to an eventual stop.

  After mere moments, he squeezes my body under his and rests his face inside of my neck, his breathing only now coming back down to normal. When we finally find each other’s eyes, it’s intense, intimate, and he looks like he’s going to say something profound, something that will redefine our relationship from here on out. I wait with bated breath and nerves swimming throughout my entire body.