by Lily White
“Make it my business.”
Our eyes locked, anger swirling behind her gaze, while the need to strip away all her secrets shone darkly behind mine. I wouldn’t give up, not when it came to this girl acting in ways that could get her hurt or killed. Not when she risked tossing away her talent like my sister had done.
It destroyed me every day to think that I hadn’t been able to help Emaline. But Amelia was still here. Still fighting. Still able to be saved.
“I had you pinned in a back alley where nobody would have cared if they heard you scream. I could have broken your hand. Could have-“
“Spanked my ass,” she interrupted, one eyebrow arching above her eye. “Yeah, you’ve told me.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared across the room. “Are we done here?”
Not exactly where I was going with that statement, but it pleased me to hear she’d remembered the warning. She had no clue how close I was to lunging at her and making good on my threat. She was in need of an attitude readjustment.
My voice was a chilling croon. “Yes. I think we are.”
Gripping her right hand over the strap of her bag, she nodded. “Good night, Mr. Carter. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without waiting for my response, Amelia stormed from the room. I doubted she had any clue about the amount of heartache and conflicting emotions she had left in her path.
This summer wasn’t just going to test my patience...it was going to tear down every wall I had with the temptation of Amelia Dillon.
Amelia
Jerk.
His name was no longer Lennon Carter. I’d renamed him.
Jerk. It was simple. One word.
Like Prince, Madonna, Björk or Beck.
He wanted to be the all powerful music god? Fine. He could have one name just like them.
Jerk.
It suited him.
Why did he have to keep bringing up what I did? Especially when we were finally, I don’t know, bonding? Over something that didn’t involve my ridiculous attempt to lift his wallet.
For a single second, I actually believed he had a kind, normal bone inside him, and then he drove me right back to hating him more than I’d ever hated any person in my life.
Where is she? Bring me my wife? Where is Lila!
Tears stung my eyes for several reasons:
Number one: The man who was supposed to be my mentor thoroughly enjoyed pissing me off at every opportunity possible;
Number two: My dad was having another bad day which made getting ready to go out unbearable since I kept crying and ruining my makeup;
Number three: I didn’t want to go out, not when I knew a stranger would be touching me moments before my brother mugged him.
Everything about this night was wrong. Yet, here I was wearing a skimpy dress that hung way too low over my chest, and rose way too high on my legs. Here I was, wiping away my mascara for the third time just so I could reapply it.
I didn’t even look like myself. I looked like the cheap older version of myself, a version I never wanted to know.
Listen to me! I need my wife!
Mr. Dillon, please. You’re wife isn’t here. I can’t bring her to you...
Pressing my forehead against the mirror, I closed my eyes and wiped away my fourth attempt at mascara.
All I wanted to do was walk away, but if I did that, we would lose the house, lose the nurses, lose everything my father had done for us before he’d lost the ability to take care of himself.
The door banged behind me. “Amelia? You ready? We need to get going.”
I would be if I didn’t have to keep reapplying my makeup. Taking a deep breath, I fixed my face as much as I could, hoping whomever I flirted with didn’t notice the puffy eyes and dark circles beneath them.
Ben stood on the other side of the door, his eyes narrowing as they roamed down to look at my dress. Teeth clenched, he said exactly what I felt.
“I hate doing this. Fucking hate it.”
Me too, big bro. You have no idea.
“It’s fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and hope we never have to do it again.”
Ben was wearing the same black hoodie that I’d worn when I’d tried to mug Mr. Carter. It fit him better, that jacket, a disguise we both used when committing crimes like Batman in reverse. Stealing instead of fighting the bad guys in a ploy to make the world better.
Wrapping his arm over my shoulder, Ben planted a kiss on my cheek, both of us studiously ignoring my father’s top lung demands.
Where is my wife?
Mom was the only person he remembered, mostly because he often believed he was back in the symphony, two newlyweds who hadn’t yet started a family.
“Come on, let’s go. We’ll make this quick.”
We picked up Ben’s best friend Jackson on the way to downtown Tampa. I was in the back seat of Ben’s ‘97 Civic (another piece of crap car that he somehow kept running) while the two of them sat up front deciding where to go and who to target.
“I’m telling you, Ben. We could take this another step further if we case the son of a bitch from the parking lot. Wait for some old dog to pull up in a nice car, watch where he goes, and then we can send Amelia in to do her thing. Not only will we get his wallet, phone, watch or whatever, but we can also grab that ride and sell it to be stripped. I know a place that’s not far. The entire thing would take one hour tops.”
Peering at the side of my brother’s face, I could see he didn’t like having to do this, especially involving me, but he considered Jackson’s idea, the thought of a few thousand extra dollars swirling in his mind.
It would help pay the bills for several months, would catch us up and keep us floating. That’s what mattered to him in the long run, and I hated that dad’s problems and mine rode heavily on the shoulders of a thirty year old who never had the chance to make something of himself.
Ben was only twenty when Dad started slipping away. Mom had died one year before that (when I was seven and Ben was nineteen) and for a year after, Dad’s symptoms weren’t so bad that Ben had to fend for all of us.
However, as the years wore on, Dad could no longer teach, and Ben stepped up to take over. He worked odd jobs, paid the bills, made sure I went to school, had a roof over my head, and food on my plate. Things only got worse from there until we became so desperate that we thought up schemes to make money fast.
We only resorted to this one at times when we were facing losing the house.
I didn’t hold it against him. If anything, I worried more for my brother than I did for myself. I’d even offered to skip the Hastings program to get a job, but Ben wouldn’t hear of it.
He wanted me to fulfill my dreams, told me I could take care of him when I was a famous musician rolling in cash. They were empty words and we both knew it. If I was lucky, I would end up making just enough to support myself.
Turning a hard left, Ben swung the car into the parking lot of Majori’s, a trendy upscale bar that catered to the type of people who could stand to lose some money without it destroying their life.
In a way, we’d attempted to justify our actions by believing we weren’t really hurting people, that those we targeted could afford the theft.
He pulled into a space around the building and out of sight, the shadows concealing the getaway car. Twisting in his seat, Ben looked at me, nervousness clear in his expression.
“I’ll leave the key in the box above the back tire. Since Jackson and I will be taking off in another car, you can take this one home, okay?”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “Yeah, okay.”
I guessed that meant he would go along with Jackson’s plan.
Nudging his chin in the direction of the door, he said, “Go ahead and go inside. Sit at the bar and we’ll come in to let you know who to go after. Remember to take him deep enough in the alley around the building that no one will see you. We’ll be waiting.”
“Okay.” I moved to open
the door, but Ben grabbed my arm.
“Hey, don’t worry. We won’t let the guy touch you too much before stepping in.”
Maybe not in the alley, but they couldn’t step in while I was still in the bar. Many men didn’t care about being in public. They would paw at me without concern for who was watching. “Yeah.”
I got my first fake I.D. at sixteen. Actually, Ben had gotten it for me specifically for schemes like this. It wasn’t that I looked old enough, the opposite, really, but that was all part of the charm.
Dirty old men rarely gave a damn about age, and my young face and curvy body were the perfect lures.
Heels clicking on the pavement, I wound my way to the front, the bouncer taking one quick glance at my I.D. before grinning and waving me inside. I’d been in Majori’s once before, the ambiance alive with swirling color and pounding music.
Tables were arranged throughout the space, a dance floor set off to the right, with a large wood bar dominating the back that sat at least fifty people in gleaming silver stools. The ceilings soared twenty feet above my head, pendant lights hanging down as accents within the industrial-meets-luxury feel of the place.
Ignoring the staring eyes of several men who were already inside, I walked straight to the bar, took a seat, and ordered a Rum and Coke, knowing I would need the liquid courage to go through with this. Scanning my eyes over the crowd, I noticed the typical painted faces of the women, and the soft-spoken conversations between businessmen.
I must have waited for thirty minutes before a hand tapped on my shoulder. I turned to see Jackson standing behind me.
Leaning in, he motioned to a man who looked to be in his late forties winding around tables and heading to the bar. He couldn’t have been taller than six foot, his suit well tailored and his dark hair dusted with silver. Stepping up to the bar, he ordered a drink and I caught the flash of his gold watch beneath his sleeve.
He wasn’t a good-looking guy, but he wasn’t ugly either. More average. Someone who wouldn’t be noticed too much by beautiful women. My gaze drifted down to see he wasn’t going hungry. The weight of his big stomach was hanging over his pants.
“That guy right there. He didn’t come with anyone, and he’s just ugly enough to ditch this place for a fine piece like you.”
Jackson walked off after pointing out my target. It was best if we weren’t seen together.
There were still a few sips in my drink, the ice clinking in my glass when I swallowed them down and stood up to approach the man. He was waiting for his drink as I walked up to ask if the stool next to him was taken. Immediately, his eyes raked down my body like dirty fingers wanting to explore all my feminine parts.
“No, it’s not. Have a seat.” Eyes still locked to my cleavage, he smiled. “Do you come here often?”
He was talking to my breasts apparently, as if they had wandered in all on their own.
“This is my first time, actually. I’m new to the area.”
The man made some weird sucking sound with his tongue and teeth, his brown eyes finally lifting to mine. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I flashed him a forced smile. “A Rum and Coke would be great.”
Crossing one leg over the other, I fought the urge to pull my skirt down so it didn’t ride up to reveal my panties. The game was to make him want me so much he would walk out the door with me for a quickie against a wall. Flashing the goods was all part of the act. Still, it left me feeling naked and gross.
He ordered my drink and turned back to me. “I’m Sam. What’s your name?”
Laughing, I played off the lie. “Oh, how funny. I’m Sam, too. Well, Samantha, but everybody uses the shortened version.”
Sam pushed up to sit in the stool next to me. “I think that means we’re meant to be.” His eyes dipped again, down to my lap this time, his lips parting a touch to see how high my skirt had cinched up.
“Are you here with friends?” I asked, hoping to drag his gaze away from my crotch. I could feel it exploring between my legs, revulsion shivering through me.
“No, actually. I was just stopping by after work to grab a drink. I had no idea I’d be lucky enough to meet someone like you. Seems like fate wanted this to happen.”
He was the perfect mark. It was too bad I would throw up for the rest of the night after letting him touch me. Reminding myself there were bills to pay, I leaned forward enough to give him a good money shot of my breasts. His eyes dragged down to them immediately.
The bartender brought us our drinks as we talked. Sam prattled on about his job in finance and how much money he made while I nursed my drink and watched him order one after the other.
It drove me insane listening to people brag about their income. Isn’t there something more important in life? A special talent or an interesting hobby that means more than how many zeros were on their paychecks? It made me sad for them that the only claim to fame they had was wealth.
By Sam’s third scotch, he felt confident enough to touch me. Not that I’d invited it, but I didn’t push him away either. His lumbering hand slid up my thigh, thumb sweeping down to brush the crease where my legs crossed. Continuing his path, he stopped inches away from my panties, his chest moving with heavier breath, his head leaning in so he could kiss me.
I hated this part, and fought the urge to vomit all over him. Playing it off, I opened my lips and allowed his slimy tongue to invade my mouth. He pushed closer, just like I knew he would, not caring that we were in a room full of people.
His right hand swept up the side of my body until his thumb brushed the side of my breast, while his left kept inching higher up my thigh to explore beneath the skirt. Every instinct in me screamed to slap his hands away, but I had to let this happen, had to turn him on enough that the thought of sex short-circuited his rational thinking.
Sam was practically fingering me as his right hand cupped my breast and gave it a squeeze.
Breaking our kiss, I played coy, pressed my palm against his chest and locked my eyes with his. He looked drunk, both from the booze and how easy I’d made myself for him.
With a flirtatious grin, I whispered, “You want me, don’t you?”
“More than you know,” he answered, his eyes staring at my cleavage as he continued teasing me between the legs.
It took effort to remain calm. All I wanted to do was push him away and run.
“Maybe we should find somewhere private to take this a little further? What do you think?”
“Like a hotel room?”
I laughed. Not a chance, buddy. “I was thinking against a wall outside. I’m not sure I can wait.”
Many men would scoff at the idea, demand the hotel room, or wonder about the type of girl who would so easily drop her panties in public. But men like this, the ones willing to paw at me while surrounded by strangers, they had no issue with the thought of a quick screw in an alley, which made them the perfect target.
Sam made that weird sucking sound with his mouth again, and I bit my tongue to keep from telling him how gross it was.
“Yeah, let me settle the tab, and then we’ll go have some fun.”
It wasn’t going to be fun for either of us, but I kept that thought to myself. Ben and Jackson wouldn’t wait too long once I got the guy back in the shadows. I would only have to endure a few seconds of his pawing hands before I could run off, jump in the car and head home. After that I would take a steaming hot shower to scald Sam’s touch off my skin.
While he paid, I scanned the room. Nobody was paying us any attention from what I could see, which was a good thing.
I’d only been inside for a little over two hours, so I’d be home in time to get enough sleep for class tomorrow. As far as schemes went, this one was moving along as smoothly as I could hope.
Sam grabbed my arm, a bruising hold as he tucked his wallet in his back pocket and practically dragged me from the stool. Calling him eager would be an understatement. One glance at his pants and I could see he was already ready and raring t
o go.
As we slipped through the crowd, he pressed his chest to my back to whisper in my ear.
“I’m going to fuck your pussy hard. You have no idea what I can do for you. I’ll have to cover your mouth to keep you from screaming my name so loud everybody inside hears us.”
I highly doubted that, but I smiled and played along despite how sick I felt. Five more minutes tops and I would be running away from him.
Hand still gripping my arm, he shoved the entry doors open and directed me outside. We turned right, my heels clicking quickly over the pavement en route to the alley. Scanning the bushes, I couldn’t see Ben or Jackson, but I knew they were hidden somewhere.
My breath was a shallow beat, my heart pulsing in my throat as Sam and I turned into the alley and kept walking until we were drenched in shadow.
He didn’t waste a second to spin me and shove me face first against the wall, one hand lifting my skirt while the other reached around to palm my breast. A little too eager, he didn’t seem to care about working up to fucking with a little foreplay. He also didn’t seem to care that my face was being scraped against the bricks.
Sam flicked aside my panties, running a thick finger up my slit, not caring that I was asking him to go slower.
“Hey, don’t you think we should -“
“Shut up. You know you want this.”
Several times, I tried to move my hips away, not wanting him to shove that finger inside. I might act like a slut, but really I was just a tease. I’d never had a real boyfriend, had never slept with anybody, and didn’t want my first time to be with some strange guy in a dirty alley.
Pressing my forehead to the wall, tears ran down my cheeks just before the sound of running feet came toward us.
One punch and Sam was knocked off me. I didn’t bother to look back. With tears still streaming, I ignored the fight occurring behind me as I pulled my skirt into place to run off.
Lennon
“This place is so beautiful. It must be nice living large, Lennon. You’ll have to come down and see us more often so we can live large with you.”
