by Bella King
I knew that it scared people. Hell, I had tossed Amy out the window in a fit of rage and I honestly had felt terrible about it. I didn’t want to hurt people. Well, maybe aside from Travis and Alice. They could both rot in hell for all I cared.
I licked my lips, tasting Amy’s on them. This wasn’t the first time I had gotten a taste of her, but she had been the one to initiate this time. I knew that she was up to something kissing me like that, only to leave me out here alone. I knew she wanted to torture me with her perfection.
I pulled another cigarette from the pack and slipped it between my lips. I would smoke the taste of her out of my mouth. I needed to get that crazy woman out of my head.
Fire igniting in front of my eyes, a flash of light to indicate the beginning of another demise. My lungs weren’t thanking me for this, but my brain needed it. The body fights against itself often, especially in my troubled life.
I could be dramatic about my personal tragedy, but stoicism hadn’t quite graced me the way it had my father. Even through his divorce he was relatively calm, acting like nothing bothered him. I wondered whether he was bottling it all up inside, or if he had really just accepted his fate.
I pulled thin hot smoke into my lungs, relishing the weight it had inside of me. It was harsh, but in a pleasant way. It reminded me that I was alive. I didn’t always feel that way. Sometimes pain was the only thing that got me through the day.
Amy inflicted a great deal of that on me, but not the kind that I enjoyed. Emotional pain was a different beast, able to drive kings to madness and the happiest people to suicide. It wasn’t something I appreciated in my life. Amy was a devil dressed like a saint.
I wanted more than a taste of her flesh. I wanted to consume her, to conquer her in a way that she would submit to me forever. I wanted to end the reckless emotional torment she inflicted on me and destroy the power that she held.
I could only imagine the pleasure of finally sinking between her pale thighs, riding each wave of her ocean to heaven. I would die inside of her, releasing every piece of hatred that was crumpled up inside of me in an explosion the likes of which a sane person could never experience.
I fantasized about what I would do to her, and it tortured my mind to see it just out of reach. I didn’t want her to keep pushing me. I didn’t know what I would do if she kept this up.
I ashed my cigarette onto the cool bricks shaded by the long flat high school building. They didn’t make buildings like this anymore. It was more like a ranch house than a school, only having two stories and sprawling out across the property to needlessly take up space. It was a bit ridiculous but that only showed how much money went into the school. The fact that they could afford so many acres of property meant they were rolling in it.
But we all were here at Crimson High. That alienated us from a lot of the population. Perhaps complaining about being rich isn’t so convincing to someone without much money, but unless you wanted to downgrade your lifestyle, being rich limited who you could hang out with.
Also, money didn’t take away problems like divorce and murder. It actually seemed to aggravate social issues, because drama was the only form of entertainment left to the rich. Piling on more cash lost it’s appeal a while ago.
I didn’t even work and I had money to blow. That didn’t fix my mental state or make my life much easier at all though. It did leave me with more time to dwell on my problems. Amy was one of them, and I had no distractions.
I sighed, slowing beginning my walk back around the building to return to school. I knew that I would probably get reprimanded for skipping classes again today, but that was the least of my worries. My grades were shot to hell, but it wouldn’t change my financial situation. Why should I care?
I strode through the double doors at the front of Crimson High, staring down anyone who looked at me. I wasn’t in the mood for some fuckhead to talk with me. I needed to be by myself.
Chapter 17
AMY
I was surprised that Anthony didn’t try to confront me after what I had done with him behind the school yesterday. All day the next day, he kept to himself. He didn’t cause any trouble, but he didn’t look to be in a terribly good mood either.
I considered that he might not even be interested in me anymore after I had kissed him willingly. Maybe he was annoyed with me, or thought that he had lost power over me. Maybe that’s the only way he liked his women, powerless.
I wouldn’t give him that pleasure. If he was to have me, it would be on my terms, not his. I wasn’t a cheap whore that would give him what he wanted with so little effort on his part. I stood for more than that now that I understood myself and what I wanted out of a man.
Sex was wonderful to me, but that desire no longer overrode my common sense like it used to. Anthony thought I was still the same as before, but I wasn’t. I was stronger now than I had ever been because of everything I had been through.
After seeing how poorly Anthony’s parents’ divorce had affected him, I wouldn’t want to put that same stress on my own children in the future. I was thinking long term now, considering whether guys like Anthony would ever work out in the long run. News flash, they wouldn’t.
Anthony needed to improve his attitude, his smoking, and his violent behavior if he was to win me over, but I doubted that he could do that. I doubted him very much, but I prayed that he would prove me wrong.
All I wanted was Anthony, but I wouldn’t be able to have a man that was willing to be so forceful or aggressive with me just to get his way. There had to be kindness in him, and I hadn’t found much of that with Anthony.
Surely, there was, though. He had valiantly defended his sister’s honor, even if she was a killer, by acting out in a way that could have gotten him expelled. I had to admire his willingness to put himself on the line for her. It was noble, if not a tad foolish.
As I went from class to class, a mere slave to the ring of the bell, I couldn’t help but feel odd about the way that Anthony was behaving. He was distant and I secretly hoped that he would confront me at some point again. I didn’t like being ignored.
It wasn’t until the final period that Anthony made an appearance at my locker.
“Hey there, Amy,” Anthony said in a deep voice from behind me. It was so quiet that I almost didn’t hear him.
I twirled around, my skirt flying up in the air almost high enough to expose myself to him. His eyes looked me up and down as I stood nervously against my locker.
“How are you?” I asked.
Anthony looked ridiculously handsome, wearing his typical uniform in an even more disheveled way than he usually did, the fabric of his crimson formal shirt untucked from his waistband and the top few buttons let loose.
I could see more of his chest than usual, which reminded me of how he had appeared in the hot tub. I had seen a lot of his tattooed skin over winter break, but my brain still ached for more.
“I’m doing alright these days. I wanted to know what was up with you,” Anthony said, shading me from the artificial tube lights that ran across the ceiling.
“I’m fine,” I said, but I wasn’t. I was an emotional wreck, crying into my pillow at home for no discernible reason and cursing myself for ever having let Anthony into my life in the first place. Why the fuck had I kissed him? To gain power? What a stupid idea that had been.
“You don’t seem fine,” Anthony replied, crooning his neck to get a closer look at me even though he was already quite close. “You look like you aren’t very happy to see me.”
I shrugged.
“You kissed me yesterday,” Anthony stated emotionlessly.
Stupid. That’s what I had been, just stupid. Now he was going to use it against me. Why did he always twist everything to his advantage?
“Do it again,” Anthony demanded.
I looked around us. There weren’t any people paying attention. There was no danger when we were in public. He couldn’t try to push it further than a kiss.
“I do
n’t want to kiss you,” I replied.
Anthony chuckled, leaning in close to me. “Kiss me,” he growled.
I shuddered at his aggression. A knot was twisting in my stomach and my hands were moist with sweat. I wasn’t getting out of this easily. I looked into his eyes and felt like I was going to die from the intensity.
I parted my lips slightly, a glimmer of hope shining within me that he would make the first move. I could excuse myself of liability that way. It wouldn’t be my fault so I couldn’t be held accountable for the kiss.
No, Anthony still stood there in front of me. He licked his pink lips, and I wondered what his tongue would taste light in the back of my mouth. His jaw was clenched hard and his concentration was boring into my body and soul.
“Kiss. Me.”
I took a sharp breath in, and placed a quick kiss on his lips. They were hot and needful, tempting me to linger longer than I should, but I knew better. I pulled away quickly and frowned. “There. Are you happy?”
“No,” Anthony responded, licking my kiss from his mouth. “Another one.”
“We’re in public, Anthony,” I pleaded.
“Why should I care?” Anthony asked, waving a hand of dismissal into the air. “They have nothing to do with us.”
I gulped down what little spit was left in my dry mouth. If pressure could turn stone into diamonds, then I was going to be squashed into the largest diamond on the planet.
I leaned my head forward, kissing him on the lips again. “That’s enough,” I said afterward. “You’ve had enough from me.”
Anthony shook his head. “I haven’t.”
With those words, he turned around and walked off down the hall, his swagger exaggerated and his steps slow and deliberate. I knew he would be back, and next time would be much worse.
Chapter 18
I was losing this battle and I knew it. Anthony had gained too much ground, and my efforts to throw him off were being countered so easily. How could he make me kiss him like that in school, and how could I agree to do it? Was I insane?
When I got home, I made a list of everything I hated about Anthony. I was scrambling to find reasons why I needed to resist him. As I wrote the list, I knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop him, but I had to try.
I scribbled down notes on how many women he had probably done this to. I wrote how cruel and uncaring he was. I described in detail how he had confronted me in the hot tub, placing his hand beneath my top and caressing my breasts. I poured out details on how it had felt when he snaked his long tattooed fingers down my jeans and rubbed the sensitive spot between my legs.
Then, I realized I was growing horny thinking about it all. Even the way he had scooped me up and tossed me from the window made my mind race and my stomach feel strange. I couldn’t keep myself from growing aroused by the way he treated me and the things he did to ruin me.
I threw my notebook against the wall in my room, leaving a dent in the cheap plaster as the corner hit like a saber. I groaned in sexual frustration. Why did he do this to me?
I jumped into my bed and pounded the mattress with my fists.
“Take that, you fucking creep,” I muttered as I slammed my fists into the foam.
I was a wreck but letting out my frustrations felt good. I supposed that Anthony felt the same when he had his outbursts. He was a bad influence.
I took my phone from the bedside table and scrolled through it, trying desperately to take my mind off Anthony. I was going to be the winner, and there could be only one. Anthony and I couldn’t both be the ones who came out on top.
What was this? A picture of Anthony and some girl popped up onto my feed. I felt jealousy before realizing that it was just Grace. I was still friends with her online. I clicked on her profile and found more pictures of their family. I sought out Anthony in all the photos.
One year ago, he had looked so much cleaner. Less tattoos and more smiles. Now, he really had changed a lot. His family was falling apart and it took a serious toll on him.
Fuck, what was I doing? Scrolling through pictures of Anthony when I had gotten on my phone to distract myself from him. He was everywhere!
I leaped up out of bed and slammed my phone on the table almost hard enough to crack the glass. I had to check it to make sure I didn’t damage it.
I ran to the bathroom and took my clothes off, flinging them across the bathroom instead of leaving them in a pile on the floor like I usually did. Everything tonight would be an act of aggressive frustration. I was in no state to behave like a sane woman.
I jumped into the shower, turning it to a scalding temperature. I winced as the water hit my delicate skin, feeling so hot that it was almost cold, a searing warning to lower it to a more manageable temperature.
But I was defiant. If I couldn’t beat Anthony, I would at least win against the water. As ridiculous as that was, it made me feel better. I fought the heat before finally turning it down just a hair. I didn’t want my skin bubbling into blisters from how hot the water was.
Maybe if it did, though, Anthony would leave me alone. Would he love a goblin girl?
I laughed to myself as I grabbed my shower gel, squeezing out an excessive amount of purple glittering goop that smelled like pomegranate. I liked fruit smells better than anything else. They were refreshing to me and reminded me of summer.
I covered my body in the gel, foaming it up and inhaling the scent. I heard that aromatherapy was actually quite an effective way of dealing with stress, and I had to admit that the smell of my shower gel calmed me down.
I finished up my shower and got back in bed naked, rolling around underneath the cool white sheets to get comfortable. I was tired enough to fall asleep like that, going to bed without even eating dinner. Anthony had really fucked up my brain.
Chapter 19
I woke up to a loud tapping sound from outside. My eyes flew open and I jolted upright. Was it a branch or something at my window?
I looked at my window to see a shape looming behind the curtains, tapping insistently against the glass. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to want to leave me alone to sleep. I squinted at the window, trying to figure out if I was still dreaming. I often had strange dreams in which I felt like I was awake, only to wake up for real when they got to be too bizarre.
I didn’t think I was dreaming this time. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around my naked body, tiptoeing over to the window and pushing aside the curtains just enough to get a glimpse outside. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw a face outside.
Jesus Christ, it was Anthony.
I yanked open the curtain and frowned at him. “What the fuck?” I mouthed at him through the glass.
Anthony pointed at the lock on my window.
I guess he wanted me to let him in. I had no idea what his intentions were, but I doubted he had come here to kill me, so I unlatched the window lock and pulled up the pane to let him in.
“It’s fucking cold out there,” Anthony said, hopping into my room.
A frigid gust of air followed him in, chilling me to the bone. I shivered and closed the window quickly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused.
“I wanted to talk to you, for real,” he said, sitting down on my bed and removing his black wool coat.
I still didn’t understand. “You want to talk to me or harass me?” I asked, holding my blanket firmly against my naked body. He had a knack for getting me exposed in front of him.
“Just talk,” Anthony said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about everything, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I thought it was all clear, but it’s not. I guess I just need someone to talk to.”
I sat down on the bed beside him. He looked upset. I placed a hand on his knee and looked at his troubled face. He was handsome even when he was upset like this.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Anthony sighed. “I think my sister really did kill someone,” he said.
I wasn’t that surprised, but sinc
e he had been in denial, I wondered why he had come to this conclusion now. “How do you know that?” I asked.
“She told me. I think they’ll find evidence for it eventually, but she’s back at home for now,” Anthony said, his voice shrinking as he spoke.
I could tell that this was hard for him. There was so much pain in his voice that I could barely believe I was talking to the same Anthony that had made me kiss him earlier that day. I rubbed his leg, trying to comfort him.
“That’s really tough,” I said. I knew that I couldn’t give him a reason to be happy right now, so I merely sympathized with him.
“It’s fucking stupid. Why is my family so fucked up?” He asked, anger creeping into his voice.
“You can choose to be different,” I said gently.
Anthony breathed out through his nose heavily. “Yeah, and for what? I have nothing.”
I continued to rub his leg. “You have me,” I replied softly.
Anthony brush the hair out of his face. “We hate each other.”
I laughed. “And yet, here we are.”
Anthony looked at me, a different look in his eyes than I had seen before. Not only did I see pain, but I saw something else, something deeper. There was a hint of loneliness in the depths of him. I could see now that he wasn’t happy with how things were between us.
“Maybe we could drop all this,” Anthony said. “Start again.”
I smiled and reached out a hand. “Hell, my name is Amy. Nice to meet you,” I said cheerfully.
Anthony’s face didn’t change. Instead, he came at me quickly, pressing his lips against mine with a quickly that took me off guard. I felt the pain, the passion, and the need behind his kiss. This was different from anything I had experienced from him. This was real.
I let his lips sink into mine, tasting the mint on his breath. I knew that he had planned it like this from the taste of him, otherwise he would be stinking of cigarettes. No, he was prepared this time, but I let it slide. The heat of the moment was too powerful for me to resist him again. This was it.
