by Bella Jewel
“Wasn’t just me, honey. Believe it or not, King did most of this.”
I run toward King and throw myself into his arms. He catches me with a grunt and then chuckles, low and deep, before wrapping me in his big arms. “Thank you,” I say into his chest. “Thank you, Dad!”
For a moment, he goes quiet and then he hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. I’ve never called him that, not because he hasn’t done a million things to prove himself to me, or that I don’t see him as a dad, it has just never felt right. Now, though, it feels so right it almost hurts. “Just made my fuckin’ year, honey. Happy birthday.”
I pull back and smile up at him. “Stop making me cry, I’ll ruin my makeup.”
He grins down at me. “Go, have a good time, you get drunk, you stay here. You don’t go tryin’ to get into places with anyone, understand? I can watch you here. Got no problem with you havin’ a few drinks, but I don’t want you runnin’ around town. You’re not of legal age just yet.”
I roll my eyes playfully, but smile and say, “Of course.”
I spin around with another squeal and run into the clubhouse where so many of my friends are waiting. I do the rounds, saying hello to all of them and accepting drinks as I make my way toward the corner where my favorite friends are. Cohen, Mykel, Samson, Alarick, and Kendric. They’re all sort of staring at everyone, like being here is a little painful for them.
I suppose it would be, but they have to remember they were eighteen once, and wanted to have fun just like we do.
“Hey, happy birthday, girl,” Kendric says, stepping forward and giving me a hug.
“Yeah, happy birthday,” Samson grins, doing the same.
“You’re old as fuck now, you know,” Mykel teases, shoving me with his shoulder before pulling me into his arms. He gives me the longest hug. He always does. Outside of Flick, he’s my best friend here.
“Calm down, I’m not that old yet,” I laugh.
“Get over here, if I don’t hug you, I’ll look like a dick,” Cohen murmurs, grabbing me and pulling me close. “Don’t tell Samantha, she’ll probably bust a top.”
I shake my head. “You two have like, the worst relationship.”
He lets me go and I move to Flick, who is staring at me in a way I have never seen. It’s as if suddenly I’m someone else and he’s only just seeing me for the first time. His eyes are lusty and heavy, and yet at the same time they’re a little pissed. Like seeing me here is making him angry somehow.
“Where’d you get that dress?” he asks me.
I exhale. “Don’t go all protective big brother on me, Flick. I’m eighteen, I’m going to enjoy that.”
“You don’t have to show your ass to enjoy it, and I’m no fuckin’ brother.”
Oh, boy. Someone is moody.
Cohen shoves Flick’s shoulder and growls, “Say happy birthday to her, you fuckin’ dick.”
Flick looks to me and then slowly leans forward. For a moment, I think he might actually kiss me, but his head moves to the side and his lips graze my cheek, his hands gently rest on my hips and he pulls me close enough that I can hear him murmur into my ear on his way back up, “You look fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’. Happy birthday.”
My heart does a silly little flip flop and my cheeks burn as I step back.
Luckily for me, I’m slapped with a cold bucket of ice water when the girl Flick is “seeing” comes running over and throws herself at him. Terrah is a pretty, blonde, bouncy girl with a perfect model body, big fake lips, massive boobs, and skimpy clothes. Exactly what you’d expect a man would go for. She shoves those filled lips against Flick’s mouth and kisses him with a ferocity that makes Mykel grunt with displeasure and growl, “Jesus, woman, you’re goin’ to eat his fuckin’ face off.”
Terrah turns around and looks at Mykel, “Um, excuse me, he is my boyfriend.”
“Not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Flick growls, shoving her back a little.
“You didn’t say that when your cock was in me last night,” she purrs.
“Fuckin’ classy,” Kendric mutters, turning and walking off.
A sting of jealousy hits my chest. I wonder what it would be like to feel Alarick’s body over mine, to feel his lips in places I have never experienced such a thing. To feel his cock sliding deep inside my body, and then slowly dragging out again.
I have to turn away so nobody sees the flush in my face.
I don’t want him.
I just need to get rid of my virginity already so I’m no longer thinking about it.
That’s all.
“Happy birthday, Briella,” Sissy says, appearing by my side.
The years haven’t strengthened our relationship, but now she doesn’t live at home and instead lives with her friends, it’s not so bad because I don’t see her.
“I bet you’re enjoying my brother and Terrah’s little fuck show. You should hear them go at it; she screams like a crazy woman. Disgusting, really.”
She is a cow.
I take it back.
Cow.
Moo.
“I’m so glad you could make it, Sissy. Really,” I mutter, glancing over at Aviana who is chatting to Cohen, her laughter trailing across the room.
“I wish I didn’t have to be here,” she mutters. “Dad made me come. Ugh, I have so many better things to do.”
“By all means,” I say sarcastically. “Feel free to get the fuck out.”
She glares at me, and then shrugs her shoulders and spins on her heel. “Sounds good to me, ciao!”
God.
I’ll say it once more, just for good measure.
Cow.
She always knows how to ruin a good thing.
Every damned time.
I’M TIPSY.
Not drunk, which is awesome.
I didn’t want to waste my whole night being drunk so much so that I’d make a fool of myself of forget, so instead I simply took it easy and am so far, having the time of my life. I’ve danced, laughed, drank, sang, and had the most incredible cake ever. The older people in the club, including my mom, have all gone over next door to the sheds to let us have some time here to be teens.
They’re close enough that they can check, but far enough away they’re not watching our every move.
Besides, Alarick and the guys are still here, all of them a lot more comfortable now than they were when I first arrived.
“You’re such a dick!”
I hear Terrah yell those words and turn just in time to see her storming out of the clubhouse. She stumbles on the way out, clearly drunk, but Flick doesn’t move. He watches her go with dissatisfaction in his eyes. Then those eyes move to me and I give him an “uh oh” look. He jerks his head in the direction of the back door, indicating I should come with him, and then he gets up and walks out.
My heart skips a beat, because I want to go. Yet at the same time, the way I feel for Flick scares me. It scares me because I don’t know if he feels the same, and I don’t want to feel something for him that he doesn’t return. That would ruin our friendship. But I can’t stop myself from following him out the back door.
He’s waiting by the door, back leaning against the wall, cigarette in his mouth. He takes a deep inhale and looks over at me. Every single year that passes, he gets better looking and more dangerous. His clean looks are now replaced with a dark edge. His hair is now longer and thicker, his body is larger, his eyes are more beautiful, and he looks like a god damned dream.
“Is there something you want?” I ask him, acting innocent like I have no idea why he called me out here.
To be honest, I don’t, but spending time alone with him is something I’d like to do right about now.
“Yeah, want to show you somethin’. Come on.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, leading me down the back of the lot to an old shed that I didn’t think anyone used. I think it was probably here back when his great grandfather ran this club. I remember coming in it when I was a kid, if we were play
ing hide and go seek or something like that, but it’s been so long I’d actually forgotten about it.
“I didn’t think this was still here,” I say to him, glancing up at it.
It’s old, but it’s strong. The foundation is still there, other than a few bit missing and rusting, the shed is in good condition.
“Yeah, I’m goin’ to clean it up and use it. But, that’s not why I brought you here. Come on.”
He steps on an old stump by the shed and then hauls himself up onto a tree that’s next to it. He kind of uses one foot on the shed and the other on the stump, while grabbing the tree, and somehow he manages to get into the large tree. Then he looks down at me. “Come on.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I say, staring up at him in shock. “No way I can climb up there. I’m wearing a dress.”
“Nobody is standin’ underneath us, so don’t worry about that. Now, come on, take my hand and I’ll pull you up.”
I hesitate, and then with a deep breath I get up onto the stump, use the old window frame on the shed to put my foot and then I take Flick’s hand and he pulls. It’s a little awkward, and very uncoordinated, but somehow he manages to hang onto me as I scramble around. I finally get my footing and climb into the big tree. There is a large, thick branch going out quite some way.
“Climb onto that first and sit with your legs either side of it. Don’t look out in front of you yet, though. Just look down until I’m there.”
“Okay,” I say, scooting out onto the branch. I have to look down anyway to make sure I don’t bloody fall.
I put my legs either side of the branch and put my hands down in front of me to hold on. I’m glad no one is in front of me because they’d get a good dose of my panties. I feel the tree shuffle and move and then Flick settles behind me. For a moment, my whole body tenses up as he hooks a hand around my waist and pulls me back so my body is pressed into his.
Oh, god.
I swallow and try to stay calm, but it’s really hard when I can feel his hard body against my back. His legs are flush with mine, both hanging down either side of the branch. He leans in close, his breath tickling the back of my neck, his arms coming through either side of my waist and settling on the tree trunk where mine are. “Look up now.”
I finally look up and gasp.
The way the club is positioned up high, and the branch coming out, means that I can see the entire city lit up like the fourth of July. It’s utterly beautiful. Lights go on for miles and miles and a soft breeze trickles my face. “Oh, wow,” I whisper. “That ... I never knew we were up so high.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath making me shudder with complete delight. “The club is in a different area and it’s actually uphill quite a bit where we are right now. All that bushland that breaks us from the city goes downhill.”
“That’s amazing. It’s so beautiful.”
“I used to sit up here all the time. Never told anyone about it, was my spot. My place. You’re the only other person who knows it exists now.”
My heart swells, and I take the plunge and reach for his hand. For a moment, his body goes stiff and we both fall into deep silence, and then in a low husky voice he growls, “Briella ...”
“I’m not the only one that feels this. Tell me I’m not.”
I don’t know where my courage comes from, maybe it’s so long hanging onto this connection I have with him, wondering if it’s real or if I’m just imagining it. It’s always been there, from the moment I met him, and as the years have gone by it has only gotten stronger.
“You’re too young.”
His voice is heavy, and husky and god damn I want him so bad it hurts.
“I’m eighteen, Flick.”
“Which is still a fuck of a lot younger than I am.”
“It’s not,” I whisper, linking my fingers into his. “It’s not that much different. What I feel when I’m with you, I’ve never felt anywhere before. It’s different, it’s so strong. You were the last man I kissed because you ruined me for all others. Because of that, I haven’t even ...”
I trail off, and clamp my mouth shut.
“Haven’t even what?” he growls, his voice low and so dangerous I shiver.
“I’m a virgin, Flick.”
He makes a sound in his throat, pleasure, displeasure? I don’t know. All I know is it sends shock waves through my body, making me want him so much more than I already do in this moment.
“Briella,” he growls.
“You’re all I can think about. I haven’t wanted to give it to anyone else. I’ve just been waiting to turn eighteen so I can give it to you.”
“Briella, stop ...”
I can’t see his face, but his voice is so strained and so heavy I know it’s hard on him. I know what I’m saying is hard on him.
“I want you.”
“It’s not right.”
“How? How is it not right? We’re not related. I’m not underage. I don’t understand how it’s not right.”
“My job is to protect you, not fuck you.”
He’s hurting my feelings.
Maybe my fragile eighteen-year-old mind is weak, or maybe it’s the alcohol I’ve had, or maybe it’s my pride, but my charred feelings make it very hard for me to think rationally right now. “Wow,” I snap. “Way to make a girl feel fucking good about herself.”
“Briella,” he goes on, “you’re readin’ me wrong.”
“I don’t see how,” I mutter, shoving his hands off me and scooting forward. “It’s fine, Flick. I’ll find what I need from someone that wants to fucking give it.”
I scoot again only this time I lose my balance and slip.
The fall is seemingly in slow motion. It’s as if I can recall every single second as I slide out of that tree. I feel my body slipping, I feel Flick try to reach forward and grab me, and then I feel myself hitting two branches on the way down to the ground.
Hitting the ground hurts the most.
My body twists beneath me and my head slams back onto the dirt. Every single thing hurts, and I open my mouth and let out a loud wail. I can’t stop it—it feels like someone has come along and snapped every bone in my body and then stomped angrily on my skull until it feels like it’s going to cave in.
Flick is by my side in seconds, on his knees, roaring out for help. He carefully straightens me out, and in between my wails, tries to soothe me. “It’s okay. We’re gettin’ help. It’s goin’ to be okay.”
He cradles my head in his lap and I hear the sounds of voices and footsteps.
I close my eyes, still sobbing uncontrollably. I’m certain I’ve got at least three broken bones, at least, that’s what it feels like.
Warm blood trickles down from my forehead and I panic.
Flick is fixing it before I even get the chance to cry harder. He presses a hand over whatever wound is causing the problem and then with his other hand, he brushes my bloodied hair from my forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“What happened?”
I hear Aviana’s panicked voice, and then Cohen calling an ambulance.
“She fell out of the tree,” Flick tells Aviana, and she’s on her knees by my side in seconds.
“Honey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
My wailing is now quiet but constant sobs.
It hurts so much.
“It hurts,” I cry, my voice crackly and soft.
“I know it does,” Avi says, taking my hand. “I know.”
“Ambulance is on its way,” Cohen says. “I’ll go and get her momma.”
He disappears, and I close my eyes, the pain almost too much to bear.
“Don’t close your eyes,” Flick says. “Stay awake, baby.”
Baby.
That’s nice.
So nice.
Why does it take me getting hurt for him to see that there is something here?
Why does he keep fighting it?
Fighting me?
; Oh, look ... I’m drifting into darkness.
Bloody finally.
10
NOW – BRIELLA
“Could be an old key and someone else is stayin’ in the room,” Cohen murmurs as we walk up the steps of The Inn and toward the row of doors with numbers on them.
“If that’s the case we’ll just play dumb and pretend that we’re in the wrong place. Nobody will be any wiser.”
Cohen shrugs and we walk to the room number we found on the key. With trembling hands, I swipe it and the door unlocks. I look to Mykel who is standing to my left, his eyes scanning the area before coming back to mine. He nods and Cohen pulls out his gun, bringing it around to the front of his pants just in case he needs it quickly. Then we push the door open and step inside.
I flick on the light and at first glance, it looks as though nobody has been here. Though the bed isn’t made, the room is quite clean. Judging by the musky smell, it has been a few days, maybe a bit less, since the doors and windows have been opened which tells me that no one is staying here right now and we’re not about to walk in on someone in the toilet or something horrible.
“Do you think she was the last one to stay here?” I ask, walking into the room and over to the bed.
“Depends if that key is new or not. It’s possible,” Cohen murmurs, walking into the bathroom.
Mykel goes over to the television stand and starts rummaging through a heap of stuff that’s on there. I pull the covers back, but I don’t find anything. No clothing or anything to indicate anyone has been here for a bit.
“Recognize any of this?” Cohen asks coming out of the bathroom with a heap of toiletries in a bag.
He places the bag on the bed, and I rummage through it. Mostly, it’s just basics like soap and hair products, but there is something that catches my eye. A brush. I know that brush because I have the exact same one. Mom got them for us when we were teens and we both kept them after she died, sort of like we couldn’t part with that memory of her. I bring the brush out and my heart aches. “This is Magnolia’s.”
“Dammit,” Cohen mutters.
“Why would she leave this here, but she had her bag and it looked untouched, like she had only just packed it but never actually taken anything out of it. If she was staying here, and left in a hurry enough to forget this, which is special to her, her clothes would have been messed up.”
