by Ivy Fox
Fuck!
I need to get her as far away from here as possible.
“Come on, kid. We’re leaving!” I belt out, tugging her by the shoulder.
I don’t think Maya is even registering anything I’m saying, but at least she isn’t fighting me off as I manhandle her out of our skeevy apartment building in a hurry. The whole subway ride over to school, I rack my brain on where I can hide Maya for a few days, but when we reach Pembroke High’s gates, I’m still clueless about what to do.
“I’m not dressed,” she mumbles under her breath, breaking my train of thought.
“What?”
“We didn’t change into our uniforms,” she retorts, staring down at her hoodie.
Shit, she’s right.
“Do you have your stuff in your bag?”
She nods.
“Good. Come with me.”
I pull her under my arm and walk us inside. We get a few side-eye glances, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. When I see Elle at her locker like she usually is at this hour, I rush in her direction.
“I need you to do me a solid and not ask me any questions. Can you do that?”
She opens her mouth, ready to use her whip-like tongue on me, but stops when she sees a catatonic Maya beside me.
“What happened?”
“I said no questions. I just need you to take Maya to the bathroom and help her out with her clothes. Can you do that, Princess?”
Her panicked gaze bounces off of Maya and me repeatedly.
“Princess, this is not the time to lose your shit. Can you take her or not?”
She snaps to attention and quickly composes herself.
“Come with me, Maya. I’ll help you, honey.” Her voice comes out smooth and comforting, and if I could, I’d kiss her right now.
But that shit will have to wait.
I put on my monkey suit at record speed so I can be there for Maya when she gets out of the girls’ bathroom. When she resurfaces, it’s clear she’s still completely out of it, using Elle as a crutch just to walk straight.
Shit.
Maybe bringing her here was the wrong move to make.
“She can’t go to class. Not like this,” Elle says, bringing life to my inner thoughts.
“I know. Fuck!” I run my fingers through my hair, staring at a shattered Maya.
“I can take her,” Princess utters steadfastly.
“Huh?”
“I said, I can take her,” she repeats. “I’ll take her to my house. I can look after her there.”
“What about your brothers?”
“They won’t be a problem. I’ll tell Holland to cover for me. The twins have been spending all their time trying to get on her good side again anyway, so I’m sure she can keep them entertained without raising suspicion. I know Rome is going to be out of the manor for most of the day too. No one will know she’s there with me. Trust me.”
“What about Boy Scout? What do I tell him if he comes sniffing around asking questions about where you are?”
“Do you honestly think he’ll ask you, of all people, about my whereabouts?” She arches a brow.
“Good point. Are you sure you can handle this?”
Elle looks at Maya and offers her a warm smile.
“I’m positive. Are you sure you can handle whatever is going on on your end?”
“Yeah. I got this,” I retort, hoping to fuck that I’m not lying to her.
“Then I guess we’re done here. Come and pick Maya up after class.”
“Shit. I have practice today.”
“Then come after practice.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry. Maya is in safe hands.”
There is a lump in my throat at how she didn’t even bat an eye at helping Maya out. Princess can be a ballbuster and sometimes a total bitch when she wants to be, but then she does shit like this that only makes me fall even harder for her.
I cup Maya’s chin, hoping to God that she’ll snap out of this.
“Elle is going to take you to her house, kid. You’ll be safe there. Okay?”
She doesn’t even as much blink, but when I witness her squeezing Elle’s hand, I know she understands. I then turn my attention back to Elle.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she whispers, a tinge of pink dotting her cheeks.
I lean in and place a chaste kiss on her lips. It’s just a quick brush, hardly constitutes a kiss, but it’s enough to have my heart pounding in its cage, screaming to be let out.
“I’ll text you my address,” she retorts sheepishly before grabbing ahold of a frail Maya and taking her home.
I fall back onto the lockers, watching the two girls who actually mean something to me walk away, all the while wondering if God will fuck me any other way today, just for the hell of it.
Chapter 5
Saint
The rest of my day drags on, every class unable to keep my attention since all of it is focused solely on helping Maya. When practice arrives, and I finally get myself inside the pool, I make sure to let out all my frustrations there. Beating the water with my body frees the knot that has been in my chest since I saw Maya crouched in a corner of that shithole she calls home.
I still can’t believe her old man actually thought he could owe the Latin Kings two grand and that they weren’t going to collect. I bet Damasio was foaming at the mouth when he knocked on their door this morning.
I’ve been riddled with guilt all day that I’m partly to blame for Maya’s current suffering. If I had just gotten there a little sooner, then maybe I could have prevented the kid from being there in the first place and seeing all that shit go down. In my mind, there is no doubt that fucker, Damasio, got his boys to screw her mom right where Maya could see, just to mess with her head. Whatever else went on in that house, only God and the devil that is Damasio knows.
But it definitely wasn’t pretty.
And scenes like that can scar even the toughest souls. Maya might have acquired some thick skin over the years, but she’s still soft where it counts. You would only need to read one of her written poems or stories to know she is the type of girl who still believes that the world will be a decent place one day. It will be a bitter pill for her to swallow when she realizes that this big blue ball in space isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. If she hasn’t already.
But one truth still remains.
Guys like Damasio eat girls like Maya for breakfast.
He’ll chew her up and spit out her bones to feed to his dogs.
Fuck.
I have to talk to Hector and find a way for him to agree to let me work off her debt.
Because that’s what it is now.
It’s not her parents who owe the Kings anymore.
It’s Maya’s debt now, and that all comes down to Damasio believing she’s worth every penny.
Two grand.
That’s what the asshole claimed is Maya’s market value.
You’d think a life would be worth more than that, but not where kids like Maya and I come from.
There is still one person who can put an end to Damasio’s sick and twisted plans, and that’s his older brother, Hector—one of the real shot-callers for the Kings. Unfortunately for me, Hector tosses more burner phones away in a week than most people change underwear, which means I’ll have to have this conversation with him face to face.
It’s going to put me in a precarious spot since, for all intents and purposes, Maya’s debt constitutes as Latin Kings’ business, and Hector has made it a point to keep me out of that shit for my own good. I’ll just have to make sure he understands this is a one-time sort of thing. Not that I’m holding out any hope. Once they smell blood in the water, then I’m done for. And I might as well offer them my neck on a silver platter so they can bleed me dry because all it will take is me forking out the cash to pay this one time, to be forever linked to Maya’s parents’ money problems with
the Kings. If they can’t get it from those two junkies, then they’ll use Maya to get the cash from me. And as much as I hope Hector can help me out now, there really isn’t much he can do in the long run if it happens again.
“Yo, Saint!” someone shouts just as my head breaches the surface of the water. I swim over to the edge of the pool, pushing my swimming goggles above my head to see a freshly showered Asher Grayson with his duffle bag over his shoulder, staring suspiciously at me.
My first thought is that he somehow knows that Elle ditching school today is my fault and is here to give me shit. The only thing that tells me it can’t be that is the cocky grin he’s currently sporting.
“Dude, everyone already packed up their shit and went home. What are you doing? Trying to make us look bad by spending the night here?” He laughs.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“You better hurry up. The basketball team just hit the showers, and you know those assholes use up all the hot water.”
Damn it.
I totally forgot Chad had basketball practice today.
“Just wrapping up here.”
He gives me a salute and goes about his business. I do another few laps, just to get the blood flowing and, more importantly, trying to cool my head so if I do bump into Blondie, I don’t swing my fist in his face.
So far, it hasn’t been easy.
Every time I look at him, I either want to headbutt him or drop him to his knees. With the day that I’ve had, I wouldn’t mind a punch or a blow. Either one would do to work off some steam.
I get out of the pool and walk into the locker room in the direction of the showers, passing a few straggling basketball players still getting dressed. I don’t make any eye contact because these douches always like to give the swim team shit.
It only took me going to a few of Boy Scout’s basketball games to know that most of his teammates have a god complex.
So they can jump and throw a ball into a hoop.
So what?
It doesn’t mean jack shit to me.
Try holding your breath underwater for two minutes. Then you can have my respect.
I go to the far end of the showers, grateful that most of these fuckers have finished and I can take a long hot one in peace. I still have to get my ass to the Upper East Side, and I don’t want to look like something the cat dragged in the first time I go over to Elle’s house. She did me a solid after all. The least I can do is look presentable.
When the water begins to stream down my aching muscles, I groan in relief. Our shower doesn’t have so many jets back home, but Pembroke High offers only the best for its athletes. I let the pounding water relax the built-up tension I had been holding in my neck and shoulders and lather my hands with shampoo to wash my hair. I’m washing off the soap that trickled down my face when suddenly the water stops.
The fuck?
I fumble for a nearby towel to dry off the suds and see what the hell is going on. When I’m able to open my eyelids, green emerald jewels stare daggers my way.
“The fuck do you want?” I blurt out.
“Elle didn’t come to class today. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Hmm. Let me see if I left her here in my pocket. Oh wait, I’m fucking naked. Guess she isn’t with me.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you know why she didn’t come to class today. I asked around, and some kids saw you with her early this morning.”
“You Pembroke bitches sure like to gossip.” I scoff, turning my back to him and turning the shower back on. “I don’t know where your girlfriend is, Blondie—”
But as the words barely leave my lips, he forcefully yanks me around by the shoulder.
“She’s not my girlfriend. You made sure of that,” he growls, stepping into my space.
“I didn’t do jack shit. You dug that grave all on your own.”
“Well, you sure were in a hurry to put cement over it, weren’t you?”
“If you have something to say, just spit it out. I’m not one for small talk.”
“No. Your forte is stabbing people in the back.”
“What did you just say, motherfucker?! I stabbed you in the back?” I growl, getting toe to toe with him.
“What else would you call it when a guy tells his best friend he’s been in love with the same girl all his life, only for him to go behind his back and sleep with her?”
“If I recall correctly, you said you loved me too the night you confessed your undying love for Elle. Guess all of it was a load of crap, huh?” I retort sarcastically.
“I did, didn’t I?” Chad scoffs, his beautiful face deformed with how lethal it looks. “Seems to me I can’t help but make one mistake after another.”
“Ah so, I’m a mistake?” I grunt in his face.
“Yes. Loving you is the biggest mistake of my life,” he says hoarsely, his green gaze falling to my lips.
“Is? Don’t you mean, was?”
“I wish I did.”
He surprises the fuck out of me when he pushes me against the tile wall and devours my mouth. My shock only lasts a second, my body instantly responding to his. The water keeps falling down on us both, me stark naked while Boy Scout is in his basketball gear.
“I hate you,” he growls, biting my neck so fiercely it’s sure to leave a mark. “You ruined me. You ruined us.”
I grab his hair and pull his face up so I can kiss those malicious words out of him. He kisses me stupid until there isn’t one coherent thought in my head. The water pours down his shirt, sticking to it like another barrier between our bodies. I pull it off, needing to feel his skin next to mine, and he follows my lead by kicking off his mesh shorts. Our bodies slither against each other, my cock so painfully hard it would only take his touch to set it off.
And then he does the unthinkable.
Boy Scout drops to his knees and takes me into his mouth.
“FUCK!”
He takes me to the hilt until my crown is almost down his throat. I pull at his wet blond hair, forcing him to take all of me until he can’t breathe. He surprises me further when he obeys my command and doesn’t let up an inch. I lean my head onto the tile, the water doing a poor job at keeping me lucid.
He’s my favorite hallucinogenic and brand of alcohol, all mixed in one.
I get drunk off him.
I always have.
But this moment, with Boy Scout using his tongue like he can’t get enough of tasting me, is a high I’ve never experienced.
It’s too fucking much.
His hands bruise my flesh as my hips roll into his mouth. I make the mistake of looking down, his face in utter ecstasy, as I forcefully thrust my cock inside of his warmth. When his emerald fields look up at me, I lose my mind. I fuck his mouth with all I have and cum on a loud growl. He pulls away and spits my release, the water washing away the evidence of his hold on me.
“Turn around,” he commands with that tone of his that is all business.
I hesitate for a second, and he grabs my throat, leaning into my ear.
“I said, turn around. Don’t make me say it twice,” he snarls.
My pulse quickens as I turn around.
This is not the sweet Chad Murphy that everyone thinks is as pure as apple pie. This is the one that orders and takes without inhibition or care. This is the side I knew lay dormant inside him all along. It’s the heathen that hides under the carefully constructed exterior of politeness and decency. He’ll let you believe he’s as plain and white-bread as they come, but both Elle and I know the truth.
He’s damaged goods just like we are.
And we knew that, sooner or later, one push would set him off.
He might have fallen onto his knees for me, but I’m not foolish enough to think the act was him offering his submission. He needs that ounce of control when he fucks, especially now that his whole life is in shambles.
I
watch over my shoulder as he grabs the soap from its holder and lavishes his cock with it. He then grabs my ass, laying his cock within my crack. The minute my body tenses, he feels it.
“Relax, Saint. I’m not going to steal your V-card. You’re the one who likes to steal things that were never yours to take.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, I will, Saint. One of these days, I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week. Just not today.”
It’s meant as a threat, but my cock responds to it anyway, the blood pumping into it and making it hard as steel once more. He runs his cock along my crack, his mouth biting my earlobe, neck, and then shoulder. The soap suds act as a lubricant, so he can slide up and down easily enough. He grunts in my ear, his ragged breathing making my heart race.
This motherfucker is going to make me cum again, just by using my ass crack to get off.
The bastard must have a direct link to all my inner thoughts because he snakes his arm around my waist until his hand is firmly grasping the base of my cock. When he begins to stroke me, his own thrusts take up a new speed. Our bodies slap against each other, the sound only increasing the burning need to combust.
All of this hurts.
The way he pins me to the wall, his elbow and forearm forcing my cheek against it.
And yet, it’s one of the most erotic sexual experiences of my life.
The way he takes and abuses my poor body, knowing it’s desperate for his touch, only increases my need for him. I’m getting so fucking close to the edge, with every grunt he makes in my ear, that it’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long.
All of this is frenzied and messy and chaotic, but so are these feelings trapped inside us both. We don’t know what to do with them except to take it out on our bodies. Every touch feels like a whip slicing me open, and I welcome the pain with a hungry heart.
When he nuzzles his nose up my neck, his lips start kissing my cheek until they latch on to my mouth. I cry my release, spilling it on his fingers, his mouth owning me completely with just this one kiss. At that very moment, I feel jets of cum splash against my back. We stay like that for a minute, his temple on my shoulder, while we both try to breathe air back into our lungs. He then pulls away as if remembering his hatred for me, my skin mourning his warmth.
