by Lindsey Iler
“You aren’t bending to my will. Got it.” He brushes his hand between us, telling me to move my legs and head inside. “Now hurry up, because those three are going to be up here in a split second, and I’d like to have part of this conversation without them.”
“What conversation?” I ask, walking past Marek as he holds the door open.
“The one where you can ask me anything you want about that night,” he answers. “Full honesty. Like I said, no secrets.”
“So, where do you want to do this?” I kick off my shoes and head towards the kitchen, making myself comfortable.
The lights turn on as I enter. Everything is in its place. For four boys capable of real chaos, they sure do keep their home immaculate. Perching on one of the stools around the island, I grab an apple from the fruit bowl.
The first bite is sweet, unlike what’s about to happen.
“First, let me make a few things clear before you answer my questions.” I toss the apple to him, and he catches it with ease, taking his own bite before returning it to me.
“I don’t know who I am right now, Marek. Maybe I haven’t ever known who I am, but especially now, I feel exceptionally lost.” I play with the stem, twisting and turning until it falls off. “I put my all into you before because I wanted to know more about my sister, get a glimpse into the person she was with you four.”
“What your sister was to us doesn’t matter anymore. It hasn’t mattered since the moment I saw you in her dorm room.”
“You know how fucked up it is for you to believe that? I remember that day like it just happened. You raced into the room, and our eyes locked. My hands were covered in her blood, my jeans soaked from where I fell in what was left of her.”
“That’s the day I promised myself I’d figure out what happened to her. The four of us did.”
“Which brings us to the last few months.”
“We knew something was going on with Reed. She hinted at something numerous times, but she never got the chance to tell us anything. The day she disappeared, she gave me that key.” He points to the necklaces around my neck. “Said to hold onto it for her. I have no idea what it means or what it’s for.”
“Cut to the four of you dragging me into your quest to vindicate my sister’s death.” I stand and pace in front of the island. “Which, by the way, I didn’t ask for.”
“That’s the thing though, Palmer. Don’t you think, if someone needed Reed silenced, they’d also be watching you? She told you everything, remember?”
“Not everything, obviously.” I eye him up and down. “And even if they were, there’s no way to know. Instead, you chose to torture me, make me feel even more alone than I did before.”
“It wasn’t all bad.” He reaches out and wraps his large hands around my waist, hoisting me onto the island. Like it’s natural, I drape my arms over his shoulders and spread my legs to give him room to nestle in close.
“No, it wasn’t all bad, but that’s not exactly the point.” The back of his hair is getting longer, and I tease the ends, tugging gently while hating myself for giving in to this fleeting moment.
My body betrays me, and I melt into every move Marek makes. His lips slowly caress my neck, ghosting over the sensitive skin. Memories flood my mind, delivering an experience unlike anything I’ve ever felt. The smell of his cologne. The gentleness of his hand right before he turns rough. The unmistaken thrill from being worshiped by him.
“You see, you can fight this—because trust me I’ll enjoy every minute in proving we are us”— Marek runs his tongue over my collarbone— “or you can give in and let me have you, all of you.”
“What do you want with me anyway?” I tilt my head to the side, bending enough to force his gaze to mine.
“Let me show you,” Marek says, his eyes traveling over my body until they land on my knee-high socks. “These are going to stay.” His fingers skim the lace detail, and he bows down, running his lips over the same trail his finger has abandoned.
The bottom of my skirt is lifted, and Marek swallows a breath when my legs spread further open for him.
“See, I thought you were going to make this hard on me,” Marek growls. He reaches between my legs, rubbing small circles over the front of my panties.
Handing myself over to Marek isn’t hard. My body knows exactly what to do when he’s nearby. Release and surrender.
“I’m not weak, Marek.” I reach under my skirt, slip my panties over my hips, and guide them down to the floor. Marek looking at me with pride and desire will never grow old. “I just know what I like. Now, are you going to give it to me or not?”
There’s a glisten in Marek’s eyes I now realize is reserved for me. Every time I push, it shines brighter. The silvery blue is quickly becoming my favorite color.
“Lay down, baby,” he demands.
I obey, shivering when the cool marble sends a wave of shock through my body. There’s a special place in hell I’d gladly be sent to if it means I could watch Marek as he is right now. With confidence, he unfastens his pants, sliding them down enough to expose those perfect muscles hidden around his hips.
“Like something you see?” He leans over between my legs and undoes the button on my blouse. When most of them are open, he runs his tongue along the edge of my bra. With sex dripping from his eyes, he gazes up at me, hungry for more.
I jolt when he reaches between us and slips a finger inside me.
“Oh, god,” I moan, my back arching off the countertop. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be touched by him like this.
“Say my name again.” He kisses along my neck.
“You don’t want to be a god, Marek.” I lift my feet and use them to drop his pants to his ankles, earning me a sweet grin. “You share more characteristics with the devil. Feel free to take me to hell.”
His jaw ticks as he thinks about what I’ve said. “Don’t test me, Palmer.”
“Do it,” I goad.
When it comes to sex, messing with Marek is like poking a hungry bear. He’ll create some damage to get what he wants. The only problem is that Marek doesn’t yet realize he’s created his own monster inside of me. I anticipate what he wants and match him with intensity.
Before Marek, my experience was non-existent. Apart from losing my virginity, hooking up wasn’t important. With these boys, though, it’s currency and leverage. I’m more than willing to give a little, to get a lot in return.
Everything with Marek is primal and instinct. I’ve never overthought anything that happens between us. Someone looking in would assume he’s used my body for his own pleasure, but they’d be wrong. We use each other.
Marek guides himself to my entrance, teasing me with small movements.
“You sure?” he whispers, keeping his eyes intently on where we are almost joined.
“Fuck me like you did in the woods that night.”
“You’re insane, you know that?” His hand moves up my body until his fingers wrap around my neck. His pleased grin accompanies my own.
At first, he’s gentle, applying a little pressure. I wiggle my hips, silently asking him for more. In one thrust, I’m full. He stills inside of me, loosening his grip. He drops his forehead to rest against my chest. A moan of pleasure makes my center clench in want.
“Dammit,” he whispers. When his head lifts, I can’t stop my smile from spreading wider. “What are you grinning about?”
“Thinking about what you’re about to do to me.” I wrap my legs around him and tug him closer.
His fingers tighten around my neck as he slowly thrusts inside me, loosening only to quicken his movements. The mix of alternating pleasure and pain sets my body on fire.
We continue until we are both on the edge. When we come, he drops his hands, and I sit up, meeting his lips with the same urgency he brings to me.
“You’re a damn wicked surprise, Palmer Weston,” Marek says as he eases away from our kiss. I drop my legs from his waist, and he tugs his pants up, covering
the best parts of him.
“I thought you said the boys would be up here soon,” I say, hiking my skirt into place, then searching for my underwear.
Marek grins at me, dangling my black panties from his finger. “I figured if you thought we may get caught, you’d drop those panties a little faster. I was pleasantly surprised to be right.”
“Fuck off.” I flip my middle finger, and Marek wraps his hand around it, squeezing it tight.
“You always were a bit of an exhibitionist like that.” The smug smile on his face makes me murderous.
“I hate that you know my body better than I do.” I shove my hands against his chest, hop off the island, and stomp to the front door. “Can you take me back to campus?”
“Sure,” Marek mutters, grabbing his keys from the front table and holding the door open for me. “And I don’t know everything about your body, but I plan on learning.”
Marek’s strong hands wrap around the steering wheel like a vise grip, white knuckling it the whole drive to campus. Neither of us speak, choosing silence as if he didn’t just fuck me on his kitchen island. He puts the gear into park, unbuckling and turning to face me.
“I didn’t take you up there for that,” he says, eyeing me through his lashes. Is he too afraid to be vulnerable in front of me and say what he means? An uncertain smile edges onto his face. It’s so uncommon with Marek, I almost think I’m seeing things.
“It’s my fault. No matter how angry I am with you, it’s like I’m incapable of holding you accountable for the things you do.”
“Acknowledging you have a problem is half the battle,” he says, leaning over me to flip the lock to open. “You’re free to do whatever you want, Palmer.”
“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? You’ve created this world where my freedom doesn’t belong to me, and now, it’s like my choices aren’t my own anymore.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did anyway.” I tug on the handle and open the door.
“So, what was that just now?” He glances over his shoulder. “You laying yourself out for me as a test or something?”
“That was me taking back a little bit of my control. I get to decide when and where. You look at me like I’m something to possess, but that needs to stop now.” I grab my bag off the seat and shut the door.
Marek rolls down the window. “Whether you believe it or not, I don’t want to possess you.”
“I’ll ask you again, what do you want to do with me, then?”
“Worship you.” The window rolls up, ending this conversation, and he drives away.
I’m left alone in the parking lot, wondering how he always manages to have the last delicious, mind-altering word.
Chapter Five
Marek
“Why am I here?” I ask as I walk into Dean Eberstark’s office. He’s nowhere to be seen. “I got your cryptic text at the crack of dawn this morning. You do realize I have to get to class, right?”
I’ve been inside this office plenty of times, but something about this place feels ominous today.
My mother leans against his desk. Her ankles are crossed, and she’s wearing her typical bored, rich housewife uniform, a fancy pant suit, paired with her favorite Chanel necklace. My dad bought it for her for their wedding anniversary when I was eleven. I’ve always thought it’s gaudy, but she seems to love it, and everyone compliments her on it. She’s always been a bit of a whore for attention.
“Take a seat, sweetie.” She gestures to the chair in front of her.
I choose the lone one closest to the door, which by the sour look on her face, she hates.
“I’m fine right here. Now, do you plan to explain why you’re here? Our last encounter was less than informative.” Seeing her in my home was hard enough, but seeing her on campus twice now, pretending to be the All-American mom of the year, is infuriating. It’s taking every ounce of control not to lunge forward and yank the necklace from her body, to take something so precious to her like she has me.
“You’re the one who allowed your low rent friends to attack me.”
“They’re more of a family than you and Dad have ever been.” I’ve dealt with everything thrown at me in the only way I know how. I haven’t asked for handouts, and I’ve never run to my parents for help. Instead, my chosen family has stuck by my side. She’s toeing a line I don’t think she’s quite ready to cross. I’m protective by nature, but only to those who earn it. This shell of a woman in front of me hasn’t come close to deserving an ounce of my loyalty.
“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Henry barks as the door closes. I glance at him and roll my eyes. His grin widens as he joins my mom.
“What is this, some sort of family reunion? All we need is the old man here to make it a real fucking party.” I jump to my feet, sending the chair skidding across the floor.
“We’re here because we’re worried about you,” Henry says.
“Oh, this is cute, you two showing up like a united front when neither of you seemed to give a shit until now.”
“That’s not fair.” My mother, she has a steel heart. Impenetrable. For her to act as if anything I do or say affects her in some way is fucking comical. She knows exactly what to do to dig into my skin, wounding me with her false love and worries.
“What isn’t fair is having absentee parents and a godfather who only comes around when he needs something from me.” Anger has me in my mother’s face in a second flat. “What isn’t fair is being charged with murders I had nothing to do with. What isn’t fucking fair is you showing up here and expecting me to open my arms wide for you to run into as if you’re some Betty Crocker type mom.” She shuffles around the desk, hoping to flee my fury, but there’s no running from me. Nose to nose with her, I yell, “News flash, you aren’t! You’re a selfish bitch who abandoned her son a long time ago.” How easy it would be to wrap my hands around her neck and show her what it feels like to have her breath stolen. She’s suffocated me for long enough, making me feel inadequate and guilty for a lost life.
Abandonment is a tricky cunt. Even when I know I’m better off without her, there’s still a speckle of curiosity in my mind of what life could have been like.
My gaze shifts up and down her, and unable to control myself, my fist smacks the wall behind her, denting the sheetrock from the blow. She flinches as I’d hoped she would.
“That is your mother.” Henry grabs my shoulder, spinning me away from her.
Mother. Mom. Mama. Those names are earned. This bitch is a womb dressed in the clothes of the rich. The only things she is full of are cash and Botox.
“All I see is a shadow of a woman who used to be my mother.” I sneer at her over my shoulder and waste no more time leaving.
Taking the stairs two at a time means I’m flying out the front door in less than a minute. The fresh air washes their stench from my lungs. Slowing my breath helps me control my anger. Behind me, the hinges creak, and I realize I’ve been followed.
“William won’t be able to help you,” Henry says, tossing an arm over my shoulder and tugging me close. Bile rolls up my throat from the contact. “What you just did was uncalled for. She’s trying her damn best.”
“What are you talking about? What does my attorney have to do with her and this?”
“I have a buddy down at the department. The evidence seems pretty locked in.”
“What evidence?” If what he is saying is true, why was I released? What is the point in setting me free, if this so-called evidence is real? My throat begins to close at the thought of being found guilty for crimes I know I haven’t committed. What will happen with Breaker, Dixon, and Byron? What kind of life would it be if I can’t see Palmer’s cute grimace every day?
“I’m doing everything I can to help, but they’re staying pretty tight-lipped,” Henry explains. “I need you to tell me everything you know about the things happening on campus.”
If I’ve learned anything about Henry Lexington
, it’s that he doesn’t help for the sake of helping. There’s a price tag on his kindness.
“I’m going to be late for class.” I break his hold and rush down the stairs into the courtyard. Henry can smile at me all he wants, but I’m not buying the nice guy act. Whatever he is plotting isn’t to benefit me. A shiver runs up my spine, reminding me to listen to my instincts.
“Listen, Marek.” Henry jogs up next to me, and I stop, glaring at him. “I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but I’ve tried damn hard to make sure you were taken care of.”
“What is my mother doing here?” I ask the question that bothers me most. Her presence isn’t an accident.
His eyes scan my puffed-out chest, and he grins.
“You’re not a boy anymore, son.” The term of endearment isn’t one at all. He’s trying to put me in my place, and I will not be held down by a rich piece of shit like Henry.
“I’ve never been your son, so don’t start acting like you give a flying fuck about me.” I’m unmoved, wishing he’d take one more step towards me.
“As far as you’re concerned, I’m the only father figure you have in your life.” His fingers stroke the collar of my jacket, brushing out non-existent wrinkles.
The weird thing is, he’s right. My father is a bigger piece of shit than Henry, and to me, that says a lot. The moment the dirt was thrown on my sister’s grave, he abandoned his family. I’ve seen him sporadically through the years, but my own mother doesn’t seem to care about his whereabouts. As long as money is deposited in her account consistently, she’s more than happy to ignore his indiscretions. Last I heard, he has a new family somewhere close by. He tells my mother work keeps him in the city.
It’s no wonder I have commitment issues. No one has ever taught me shit about love and relationships, unless I consider learning from their mistakes as guidance.
“I’m sorry you got yourself mixed up in all of this nonsense on campus.” Henry rubs my shoulder like a father would. His nonchalant attitude about the things happening at this school is infuriating.
