Royal Flush

by Ella Goode

  Ahead are another set of double doors. Melody swings them open to display a large marble bathroom. There’s a standalone tub with feet set in an alcove. A crystal chandelier hangs over it. The shower has enough nozzles to rival a car wash. Belle runs from section to section, exclaiming how beautiful and cool everything is.

  “Thanks, although I can’t take the credit,” Melody says from inside a closet. “My mom decorated it. It’s a hobby of hers.” She comes out with her hands full. I hurry over and pluck the things out of her hands before something falls and marks up the pristine floor.

  “Thanks.” She grins and blows a bit of her hair out of her eyes.

  I bite my inner cheek so I don’t toss everything down, grab her by the throat and kiss her until she’s coming on my thigh.

  “Um, you can put the stuff here.” She points to a table with a three-way mirror attached. In front of the table sits a very dainty chair in pink with a white fur seat. I eye it with some skepticism. “Are you dying my sister’s hair on that?”

  “Yup,” she answers cheerfully. “Come over here, Belle. I want you to put this on.” She flips a black dress toward my sister. It looks almost new.

  “Sure. Where should I change?”

  Melody points to the door she just came out of. “Use my dressing room.”

  Behind Melody’s back, Belle mouths “dressing room oh my God” to me. Once she’s shut away in the dressing room, I ask, “What was that?”

  “I don’t have a hairdresser’s cape but this is an old black dress that I hate so it’s perfect for this project.”

  “It looks new.”

  “Because I hated it so I didn’t wear it again.” She speaks slowly as if I’m too dumb to understand, but I get exactly what she’s saying. She’s rich enough that it doesn’t matter if a dress gets ruined. Her closet is probably full of black dresses.

  Sure enough, Belle bursts out in the black dress and declares, “I could live in the dressing room. It’s as big as our apartment, Brad.”

  “If we ever can’t make rent, we’ll shack up here, then. You won’t mind, will you, Mel?”

  She gives me an odd look as if she can’t quite make out whether I’m kidding or being mean and honestly, I don’t know either. It’s not that I’m jealous of Melody’s position here; it’s that I feel out of place and awkward, which I hate.

  “So what’s the plan?” Belle asks, snapping Melody out of her inspection of me.

  I let out a sigh of silent relief. Melody may not be good at trig, but I have a feeling she’s good at reading people. I tug my hoodie up over my head, shove my hands in my pockets and watch as the process of coloring my sister’s hair unfolds in front of me.

  Melody pulls on a pair of black gloves, sections my sister’s hair, and starts rubbing some red goop into it. “Remember to use dark towels when you wash your hair because otherwise the dye will get all over them. I thought my mom was going to murder me the first time I got my hair colored. Now all I have are dark towels because I would forget. I ruined so many,” Melody tells her.

  “We have dark towels, don’t we, Brad?” Belle meets my eyes in the mirror.

  I can’t remember but I put it on my list of things to get her.

  “And shampoo. You’ll want to get the colorfast stuff. It’s a little more expensive but it makes the color last.”

  Christ. Everything in this world costs money, but I learned that a long time ago, which is why I started hacking. My mom needed a new washing machine. Whatever Birdie needs, she’s going to get, whether it’s towels, shampoos, or shoes.

  The two start talking about favorite hair colors and styles so I decide to leave them to bond alone. I haven’t seen my sister this happy in a long time. I wonder how much I would need to pay Melody to do this for Belle every month.

  Melody didn’t tell me to stay in her room so I start to wander. There’s one door across from Melody’s that reveals a large bedroom. It has an air of vacancy as if no real person has stepped foot across the threshold. Down the hall are two more empty bedrooms.

  I come across a large loft space with a desk and sofa. Below I see a family space with dark leather sofas arranged in front of a fireplace and big screen television. There’s a walkway that leads to another set of doors, which are locked. I presume her parents—the senator and his wife—sleep in there. The grand staircase leads into a big entryway. My boot heels echo on the tile but no one comes out to greet me.

  I find myself in the back of the house in a room overlooking a paved patio, a pool and some gardens that I can make out because of the lights dotting the landscape. I don’t know how long I’ve stared out into the dark, but a soft sound rouses me.

  I know it’s Melody without turning around.

  “Done already?”

  “It’s been an hour,” she says. “Your sister is watching Clueless which I found tragic. Every girl should watch that before the age of thirteen.”

  “Tragedy averted then, since she’s twelve.”

  “Oh shit, really?” I can see a faint reflection of Melody in the glass. She claps a hand to her mouth. “They talk about sex in the movie.”

  I huff out a laugh. “She’s been sneaking romance novels from my mom’s bedroom for a while. I doubt anything that’s said in that movie will be a shock to her.”

  Melody reaches my side and nudges me. “I brought you a chocolate shake. Belle said that they were your favorite. And don’t tell me you don’t want it. Sarah labored over this so you can’t let her effort go to waste.”

  I take the ice cream treat and down a bit of it.

  “How is it?” she asks.

  The ice cold cream and the bitter of the chocolate hit my tongue at the same time. I feel like Melody is like this—bitter and sweet at the same time and even knowing that, I can’t stop myself from sliding a hand around her neck and pulling her close. “You be the judge,” I tell her moments before sealing my mouth around hers.

  She gasps and I swallow it, savoring the sensation of the hotness of her mouth and the coldness of the dessert. Her hands clutch my wrist and then they find their way around my neck. I angle her head to the side for greater access, tonguing every inch of the inside of her sensitive cavern. Her tongue tangles with mine, first with tentative whispering flicks and then bolder strokes.

  I set the ice cream treat on the table behind me so that I can touch her in the way that I’ve wanted to since she first walked into the GT lounge. She feels precious and expensive under my touch. I slide my hand around the waistband of her pants, reaching down to cup her ass. I bend at the knees to get greater contact between the juncture of her legs and the aching cock barely restrained by my jeans.

  We both groan as the searing heat from our bodies threatens to turn our clothes to ashes. Suddenly, I’m desperate. My hand dips under the waistband, tugging at the cursed fabric. I need to feel her wet sex against my palm. I want to fuck her with my fingers, make her wet and ready for my cock.

  “Brad. Hey, have you seen—Oh no, really? Why?”

  My sister’s piercing wail breaks through the fog of my lust. Reluctantly, I pull my hand free and set Melody on the ground. She rocks on her feet. I place a steadying hand on her shoulder and take deep breaths on my own.

  “What is it, Belle?” I say. I intended to be calm and measured but my raging hard-on has me growling out the words.

  “Nothing.” But I know from experience that nothing means everything.

  “I have to go,” I murmur.

  Melody’s eyes seem to convey a sympathetic understanding but she doesn’t have siblings so can she really get my dilemma here? I don’t know. All I can do is hope for the best. “Call if you have any problems with your homework,” I say.

  Belle snorts in disgust. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

  I spin on my heel and grab my sister by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

  She quiets down and doesn’t say another word until we get in the car, but once we’re alone, she unloads. “Are you really sleepin
g with Melody?”

  “It’s none of your business,” I answer tersely as I maneuver out of the driveway and onto the road.

  “She invited me to come back in a couple weeks to get my hair done again, but if you sleep with her and then break up, she’s not going to want me there.”

  “We’re not sleeping together. I’m tutoring her in trig.”

  Belle breaks out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “Oh my God. Of course you are. Look, Brad, you know how hard it is for me to make friends and Melody’s so sweet. Please don’t mess this up.”

  “I’m just tutoring her,” I repeat, but Belle doesn’t believe me. She fumes the whole ride home. The moment I pull into our parking lot, she’s out of the car like a shot. By the time I get up to our third floor apartment, she’s locked herself in the bedroom. “Belle.” I knock on the door. “Belle. I’m not going to mess up anything. I swear to you—“ My phone rings. I look down to see that it’s Melody’s number. I almost answer when the door swings open.

  “What?” my baby sister says. Her eyes are swollen and her voice is scratchy. Middle school is fucking hell. I tuck my phone into my pocket and pull Belle against my chest.

  “I’m not going to screw things up. I plan to help Melody with her trig, finish school and go to college so getting involved with a girl at this point would be dumb and we both know I’m not dumb.”

  My sister rubs her nose against my chest. “Okay. Sorry I was a brat.”

  I ruffle her hair. “Nah. It’s all good. I’m going to make myself a sandwich. Want anything?”

  “No. I have some homework to do.”

  “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “I will,” she promises and then retreats into the bedroom. She leaves the door open, though, so I know she’s not mad anymore.

  My phone buzzes again. I pull it out to see a text from Melody.

  Having a problem. Mind if I call you.

  I curl my hand around the phone tight enough to turn my palm white. I want to talk to Melody. I want to apologize and explain but Belle’s door is open and if she heard me, she’d probably have a meltdown. Talking to Melody is too dangerous. I type a response.

  Just take a pic and send it to me. No need to talk.

  I don’t get a reply to that at all.

  Chapter Eight

  Melody

  Why do I have to be the asshole? At least that’s what I feel like. Brad had gone from hot to cold so fast that I couldn’t keep up. It’s also one of the reasons that I didn’t get any sleep last night. I spent the whole night trying to figure out the rest of my homework. It took me forever to track down someone online to finally help me finish one last problem. By the time I was actually done it was three in the morning. There was no point in trying to get any sleep. Instead, I went to my studio to paint. My mind was racing with everything that had happened between Brad and me that afternoon. It had me feeling out of sorts and painting always seems to calm me.

  I stab at my eggs, taking another bite. “You’re in a mood.” Sarah raises an eyebrow at me. She probably knows me better than my parents at this point. While I love my mom, she gets so wrapped up in what my dad is doing that it can consume her. That means that there’s long periods of time that she’s absent from what’s going on with me. I’m lucky to have Sarah. She’s always a constant in my life.

  “You seen my mom?” I ask. I don’t think she or my father came home last night. I’m guessing they aren't together. My mom’s cupcake still sits in the box on the counter untouched. She hardly eats sweets but Milly's cupcakes are her weakness.

  “She went to the Springs.” I nod, taking another bite of my eggs. It’s where she always goes when she gets all worked up about my dad. It’s a healing center spa. I think they just suck money from you. She always comes back in a better mood, though, so it must do some good for her. It usually only lasts until my dad’s next indiscretion and then the cycle starts all over again.

  “Am I going to have to pull it from you?” I look back up at Sarah as she dries a pan.

  “Sleepy,” I admit. I’m hurt too but I keep that to myself. My mom is expressive enough for all of us. I think it’s why I picked up art at such a young age. It is how I express myself without opening my mouth. I spent a few hours in my studio this morning. It usually takes the edge off but today it didn’t work. Never rely on a man. My mom’s somber words repeat in my head. Lesson learned and rather quickly at that. I started to let Brad in just a little bit and already he’s disappointed me. I counted on him to help me with my trig but after his hasty text response, I took the hint and even though it cost me some sleep, I figured it out myself. I don’t need anything from him.

  “Nothing to do with you having people over? You never have people over.”

  “You just want someone to cook for,” I tease her. “I’m not enough for you? I can eat for three.”

  “That you can.” She laughs, putting the dishes away.

  “Thanks.” I grab my backpack, heading out the front door to my car. My father is pulling up as I’m pulling out. His suit is wrinkled and I don’t know if he stayed at his secret condo in the city or he’s been out all night. I don’t really care either way. I’m just happy that I don’t have to talk to him.

  He gives me a chin nod as if we are old buddies and not father and daughter. I fight not to roll my eyes because it would start a fight and fighting with him is pointless. I force a smile and return my chin up before pulling out and heading to school.

  My phone dings when I pull into my assigned spot. I grab it. A stupid part of me hopes that it’s Brad saying sorry for being a dick and giving me the cold shoulder. Maybe I deserved it. I was a dick to him when we first met but I tried to make it up last night. Look what that got me.

  When I see him today I’m going to tell him I’m finding someone else to tutor me. I have already checked online and one of the local colleges has students who do it for some extra cash. Then I am going to tell him not be the dumbest smart person and do shit for Mark. He’s going to get himself thrown in jail. Clearly he has a little sister that he needs to think about here. Then I will be done with Brad. I’ll wipe my hands clean and walk away.

  Well, until Belle needs her hair colored again. Then he can drop her off and pick her up. I’m not about to break my promise to the little girl. Her brother might be a dick but she isn’t. She is sweet with a nice side of I’m-trying-to-find-myself brat mixed in.

  A text lights up from Belle. I forgot I’d given her my number last night.

  Belle: Everyone LOVES my hair!

  Me: Obviously. It’s super cute and you can pull it off. Not everyone can.

  I smile that she’s so happy. Her age can be killer. All the confidence you can get at her age, the better.

  Belle: My brother says he tutors you? Is he doing it today after school? Maybe I can tag along?

  Shit. What do I say to that? I have to think about it for a second before I respond. Another text pops up before I can think of one.

  Belle: Unless it’s right after school. You guys get out before me. Maybe we can get a cupcake again or something?

  Me: I just got to school but I’ll check to see if it’s possible. I’ll text you on my lunch break.

  I fire back a quick text. She wants a friend. If anyone knows what that’s like, it’s me. Before Ally showed up on the scene I kept to myself. On purpose. I’d been burned a few times with girlfriends wanting to use me for one thing or another. Sarah told me I have a kind and giving heart. I could try and fake it all I wanted that I didn't with my smart mouth but it was all a façade. That shit hurt when I found out I was being used. Little Belle isn’t trying to use me. She is only a little girl likely having problems feeling like she belongs at her school. I don’t know much about Brad but from the way Belle’s eyes lit up when she saw my house, I can tell they don’t have much. I’m guessing that’s the reason why Brad does what he does. For money. It’s the root of all evil. It’s easy for me to say that because I have it.
<
br />   I decide to get the Brad situation over with first thing so I head to the GT lounge. I know that’s my best bet to see him. I might as well say what I have to say and then it will be finished. A part of me doesn’t want it to be done. The way he kissed me flashes through my mind. I’d never been kissed before. My mom's words run through my mind, reminding me of what men are capable of. My mind goes back and forth. My throat grows tight.

  “Mel.” Ally grabs my arm. “You okay?” I didn't even see her come up. Owen stands behind her looking concerned.

  “I’m fine.” I try and shake it off. Was I about to have a freaking panic attack? Oh God, I’m my mother. I love her but I don’t want to be like her. Being unable to control my emotions is one of my biggest fears.

  “Liar. What is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know.” I shake off her hold. “I have some crap to handle.”

  Ally, being Ally, grabs me again. “You can talk to me. You know that.” My resolve fades.

  “I know but first I’ve got to handle someone else.” Then all these weird emotions I can’t process will be done with. I can stop obsessing over them and move on. I won’t be my mom and let these thoughts over a man consume me.

  “Lunch?”

  “You know I’ll be at lunch,” I say, making her laugh. She doesn't let me go but pulls me into a hug because Ally is a hugger. I think of myself as a non-hugger but last night I wanted more than a hug. I hug her back because you can’t not hug Ally. Plus I needed it.

  “See you later.” I let her go as I head toward the GT lounge still not a hundred percent sure what I am going to say to Brad. Either way, Mr. Hot Shot is going to get a piece of my mind. I never should have given him that extra cookie. I hope he enjoyed it because that’s the only cookie he’ll be getting from me.

  Chapter Nine