by Dukey, Ker
“Police?” I ask the boy sitting opposite me, Jasper Bennett. He’s a football jock who knows everyone.
His top lip lifts into a smirk, and he shrugs.
“Reese is at school and says it wasn’t him, so what can they do?”
True. No one will ever know it was me.
They can’t do anything.
* * *
After lunch the hype had all but died down, and when I happened to see Reese in the lunch hall, he didn’t say anything to me, so he must not suspect me either.
I was hoping he would suffer from my little revenge trip, but Gemma is the one absent from school due to everyone on the Internet having seen her naked.
Oh well.
I leave school late, my locker got stuck, and it took me ten minutes to jab at it to get it to finally open.
Aside from Reese’s truck, the car park is empty when I get outside.
Fuck. I ignore it and carry on walking until I’m out the gate.
A nervous flutter begins in my stomach, and I can’t explain why.
Reese doesn’t scare me, so even if he accuses me I’ll just tell him to fuck off and if need be, get Asher to give him a warning.
His truck pulls up next to me, and he winds the window down, leaning over the passenger seat to speak to me.
“Alice, you want a ride?”
“No.”
“Come on, don’t be a bitch.”
“Fuck off, Reese.”
He stops the truck and gets out. Perfect.
I stop and wait for him because it’s pointless walking away for him to just follow me.
He reaches for me once he rounds his truck, but I pull back.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars. I need to relieve some stress,” he pleads, and I want to kick his fucking junk.
“I’m not a fucking whore, you asshole,” I snap, and he scoffs. He actually fucking scoffs at me.
“Keep telling yourself that. When you’re short on cash you know where to find me.”
Tears spring in my eyes, and I swallow down the stone forming in the back of my throat.
He just doused me in gasoline and struck a match. I’m burning. I hate him.
Nine
Chapter
ERIK
Ebony would be so disappointed in me for abusing her charity efforts, but hell if I give a shit. Alice is consuming me.
Checking my watch, I grab my jacket and ignore Janet’s startled expression when I waltz past her and Lee’s minion waiting for our three o’clock appointment in my office foyer.
Lee can wait to get his shit signed off.
I take the truck instead of the car to not bring attention to the same car lingering about.
* * *
Wind batters the metal and glass as I sit waiting for Alice to leave the school grounds.
Crowds of students pour out of cars driven by idiot’s speeding from the gates, and I hope she’s not inside one of them.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel every time a brunette catches my eye.
Alice where are you?
There are a few stragglers left but no Alice. Maybe she had a ride or stayed behind.
I pull out my cell and pull up her Facebook page. No updates.
Maybe she didn’t come to school today.
She’s graduating soon, maybe she’s flaking.
Slipping my cell into my pocket, I start the engine and pull into the street.
Just as I’m passing the school gates I see her.
Brown hair fluttering down her shoulders, anger brimming in her spectacular eyes.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and keeps checking behind her like she’s expecting someone to follow her.
Have I been that obvious?
Wrapping her arms around her torso as if to hold herself together, she hurries down the street.
My palms twitch with a need to go to her, to feel her sorrow against my skin.
What happened to you?
The urge pulsing inside me resembles an ache of an addict desperate for medicine.
Feed me.
Blood pumps hard through my body, resonating with the pounding of my heart.
She’s so damaged, so fragile. I need her. I need to show her she isn’t lost anymore. I’ve found her.
And she’s mine.
Just before she can cross the road, a truck stops beside her.
A boy jumps out and goes to her.
She shakes her head and pulls away when he reaches out for her.
Rage manifests within me at the sight of him putting his hands on her, causing her distress. That’s not his job.
They appear to argue before she offers him the middle finger and carries on walking in the opposite direction.
Throwing his hands up in the air, he rounds the truck and climbs inside, reeving his engine as he speeds past her.
My instincts are to follow her, but my curiosity drives me forward, tailing the truck.
We drive for ten minutes before he pulls down an alleyway behind the back of a bar.
I wait to see if he exits before getting out of my own truck.
A surprised laugh barks from my chest as a woman strides up to him and slips inside.
They’re in view of anyone walking or driving past, but this doesn’t seem to prevent her from snatching money from his hand and lowering her head into his lap.
Getting out of my truck, I walk over to his and tap on the window.
He startles and immediately pushes the blonde twice his age from his lap, putting his little pecker away.
“Soliciting is a crime you know.”
“Fuck,” they both snap in unison.
The whore slips out of the truck and takes off running in four-inch heels.
It’s laughable.
I could take my own shoe off, throw it at her, and still take her down.
Run, little whore.
She reminds me of my mother.
Flashes of her infest my mind, trapping me in shrouded darkness for a second before the punk speaks and brings me back.
“My father is a very influential man, Officer,” he attempts to bribe.
“Step out of the car,” I bark, opening the door for him.
Music pulses from the club’s cellar doors, left open for deliveries.
“I’ve had a really shit day,” he groans, rubbing a hand through his hair.
“The woman,” I snap, taking a step toward him making his shift backwards on his feet toward the club.
“She’s no one. A friend, not a prostitute,” he mumbles, tripping over his words, and almost his feet has he continues to back away from me warily.
“Not that one, the brunette you stopped a few miles back.”
At this his brow crashes down over his eyes “Alice Young?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Look, I wasn’t doing anything to her, we have history,” he finally stops moving sensing the open doors behind him.
“What history?”
Folding his arms, he narrows his eyes on me. “Is she in trouble? Is this about my phone?”
Irritation flares in my veins, and I have to take a deep breath so I don’t grab him around the throat.
“How do you know her and don’t say school. What were you trying to get out of her?”
Sighing, he plays with his earlobe.
“She was hoping my dad would get her a scholarship. I told her I’d ask him if she helped me with… my needs,” he shrugs like he hasn’t been blackmailing her for sexual favors.
His needs? The little cunt.
“What’s your name?”
“Reese,” he frowns.
“Watch your step, Reese,” I warn, giving him a little shoulder shove.
His eyes expand in shock as his feet tread backwards, and meet empty space where the steps drop down to meet the cellar floor.
His arm flay stretching out for help, I step back out of reach as he disappears with a suc
cession of thuds.
He lands with a grunt.
A painful cry rings out, and he calls out. “Officer, call an ambulance. I broke my leg.”
“I didn’t say I was an officer,” I grin down at him.
* * *
Once I get home, I ignore the messages Maggie keeps leaving on my phones and boot up the computer, opening a new email account just for Alice.
I hit the compose button to start a fresh email.
Dear Alice.
My name is Ebony. I’m replying to your email to Anonymous to follow up. I’m your support provider and ready to listen if you ever need to unburden your soul.
I hit send then strip off to shower.
After I’ve showered, eaten and taken a power nap with still no reply, I feel irate.
Grabbing my car keys I go to her.
Ten
Chapter
ALICE
Fred is arguing with someone on the phone when I get home from doing a pharmacy run for my mom’s prescriptions.
He eyeballs me and tells whoever it is on the other end to fuck off.
Opening the fridge, I roll my eyes to find it barren.
“I need beer, I’ll be back in an hour,” Fred grunts.
“Who was on the phone?” I ask innocently.
“Fucking insurance. They’re not going to cover anymore medicine, we’re going to have to mortgage the house.”
Wait, what!?
“That’s not your choice, this house was bought by my father.”
Grinding his teeth, Fred narrows his eyes on me.
He was good-looking once, like Asher but with a few defined wrinkles.
Now he’s grey all over and has more lines on his forehead than a road map.
“The house belongs to your mother, and she needs the money.”
“Why don’t you just put her out of her damn misery, Fred? She’s a vegetable in there, and her rotten body is eating every penny we have,” I snap.
The whooshing of his hand alerts me to the smack as his palm hits me across the cheek.
I fall, colliding with the breakfast table which breaks my fall.
Fire explodes like a fever over the skin of my cheek, and tears well and burst from my eyes.
I rear up, my mouth agape and eyes deadly, pinned on his.
“You bastard,” I rage.
He doesn’t say anything, just turns on his heel and leaves.
Racing up the stairs, I run to the bathroom, flicking on the light and going to the mirror.
A perfect handprint is tattooed in red over the flesh.
My eyes are full with tears, and a tremble rocks my lips.
He’s never raised a hand to me before.
He ignores my existence most of the time, and now I want to smother both him and my mother.
A creak sounds from behind me, and I turn abruptly when I see a shadow pass the doorway behind me in the mirror.
Didn’t Fred leave?
“Ash? Fred?” I call out, my hands shaking.
Taking a timid step into the hallway, my heart begins to pound wildly in my chest.
Creeping towards my bedroom, I pop my head through the door, but it’s empty.
Am I seeing things?
The adrenaline pumping through my veins begins to ease and the anger returns.
Waltzing over to my dresser, I grab some face balm and lather my skin with it.
If my eye turns black, I’m going to empty his beer and fill them all with piss.
A shiver races over me, causing pimples to raise on my flesh.
The hairs on the back of my neck lift, and my heart reaffirms its steady thumping when I sense someone in the room with me.
Da dum…da dum…da dum...
Reaching for my deodorant can, I turn and spray.
“Argh urg, what the fuck?” Asher chokes, flailing his limbs in the air.
“Fuck, Asher,” I bark, chucking the bottle down and slapping at him.
“Why are you hitting me?” he screeches, and it makes us both grin and then laugh.
When we catch our equilibrium he frowns at me, his eyes zoning in on my cheek that’s still stinging.
“What the fuck happened?”
In dramatic fashion, I throw myself on the bed and kick off my boots.
“Your father didn’t like me suggesting we put mother out of her misery.”
Crossing his arms, he narrows his green orbs on me.
“He fucking hit you? No way.”
Getting up onto my elbow, I shake my head in disbelief.
“You’re looking at the handprint on my cheek, Asher. What’s not to believe?”
His fists clench and jaw ticks, the muscles in his neck making the vein there pop out.
Damn, he’s so hot.
Thoughts of letting him pull my jeans off and put those lips to work between my legs make me almost squirm under his observation.
But I’m not weak enough to cave to those urges.
“I’m going to kill that sonofabitch.”
Oh goody.
With that, Asher marches from my room, and a few minutes later his motorcycle roars outside my window.
Sighing, I grab my phone and click on mail.
I have an email from the Anonymous place.
Dear Alice.
My name is Ebony, I’m replying to your email to Anonymous to follow up. I’m your support provider and ready to listen if you ever need to unburden your soul.
I hit reply.
Eleven
Chapter
ERIK
Knowing she’s lying above me in slumber is a cruel torture.
I hate that the Asher guy, her stepbrother I’ve deduced, just allows himself into her room like it’s his space.
He’s too comfortable here.
My heart strums steady in my chest as I listen to her breathing from beneath her bed and try not to focus on the quiet around me.
I know she saw me earlier when I passed the bathroom door.
I was hidden upstairs when I heard a commotion.
She came running up the stairs before I could make it back to her room.
She didn’t seek me out however, because she likes the thought of me watching her.
Don’t you, Alice? You little tease.
The man who laid his hands on my Alice will pay a high price.
Asher will do no killing
A soft thud of her phone falling to the floor makes my heart skip.
The emptiness around me screams for me to fill it with noise, fear, pain, but it’s not the time.
Shuffling out from under her bed, I wait to make sure she hasn’t awoke before I get to my feet.
She’s curled into the fetal position, cradling herself in her cocoon.
Her youth shows when she’s sleeping.
A pale complexion, not a line marring her soft skin. Dark lashes fan out over the hills of her cheeks making her appear like Sleeping Beauty.
“Are you waiting for your dark knight to wake you?” I whisper.
When she doesn’t move, I can’t help but reach out and stroke the hair from her face.
She groans from my touch and moves into it.
Her face turning, yearning for my touch.
That’s when I see the risen mark on her other cheek.
White, hot fury saturates my psyche.
Motherfucker.
* * *
It was painful to leave Alice’s room, but I know I can’t risk staying there when Asher could show up any time.
So I’m waiting outside, hidden within the trees beyond her yard.
It’s unbecoming of me to be hiding like some sort of peeping Tom, but I have a plan that just can’t wait.
As the moon creeps over the darkening sky, I count the hours until Alice’s stepfather returns home.
As if thinking about him summoned the fool, his car comes swerving up the street and pulls in at an odd angle onto the drive.
A silhouette of Alice’s petite form casts a shadow in her w
indow before her curtains close suddenly.
Her stepfather looks up briefly to her window as he wobbles up the path and disappears into the house.
My muscles coil with the need to go wrap a belt around his neck as he sits in his fucking armchair and flicks on the TV.
I wait for the cold a.m. air to snap at my skin and the TV to turn to darkness, and then I go to his car.
Keys sitting in the ignition.
What a fucking fool this guy is.
I slip inside and pull the hand break, letting it roll down the drive and a small way down the road before I kick the engine over, making sure not to wake them with the noise.
I take the long way to my destination, detouring for a specific reason: to avoid any cameras.
As the warning yellow lights begin to blink in the distance, I know I’m approaching road work.
Energy zaps through my body, adrenaline beginning to fuel the blood pumping around my body.
My foot slowly increases pressure.
It’s like fate lit the bastard up for me.
Arms waving maniacally, Richard, wearing a bright, orange vest, gestures to the temporary traffic lights installed for a one-way traffic system while he paints lines on the road.
I add pressure to the gas and swerve with his body as he attempts to jump out of the way of the steel machine coming at him at seventy miles per hour.
The impact is loud and satisfying, skin and bone crunching as his body hits the hood and flies over the roof, landing with a gruesome thud.
No other workers are out here, no cameras.
I don’t stop to make sure he’s dead.
If he survived that he won’t be a whole person.
I’m sure his brains are stuck in the grill of the car.
I pull over a few miles away and use the half empty bottle of cheap liquor left discarded in the passenger seat to clean off some of the blood, flicking the piece of hair and scalp wedged into the headlight off.
