by Hart, Rebel
Play With Me
Diamond In The Rough 1
Rebel Hart
Copyright 2019 © Amore Publishing
Cover by Robin Harper of Wicked By Design
Photo: © Regina Wamba
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Raelynn
2. Clinton
3. Raelynn
4. Clinton
5. Raelynn
6. Clinton
7. Raelynn
8. Clinton
9. Raelynn
10. Clinton
11. Raelynn
12. Clinton
13. Raelynn
14. Clinton
15. Raelynn
16. Clinton
17. Raelynn
18. Clinton
19. Raelynn
20. Raelynn
21. Raelynn
22. Clinton
23. Raelynn
24. Clinton
25. Raelynn
26. Clinton
27. Raelynn
28. Clinton
29. Raelynn
30. Clinton
31. Raelynn
32. Clinton
33. Raelynn
34. Clinton
35. Raelynn
36. Clinton
37. Raelynn
38. Clinton
39. Raelynn
40. Clinton
41. Raelynn
42. Clinton
REBEL HART
1
Raelynn
“No! Please! Somebody, help!”
The car skidded out of control and tires burned their rubbered tracks into the road. I gripped the ‘oh shit’ handle in the car, feeling us careening out of control. I screamed for help as I saw a car going over the edge. Sounds of metal crunching against metal sounded helplessly in my ears as I cried out a name I didn’t recognize. A name that sounded unfamiliar, even as it fell from my lips.
Then the world muted itself around me.
Our car came to a stop just beyond the impact point. The mangled guard rail in front of us ignited into flames as I pushed out of the car. I stumbled around, feeling my stomach upheaving its contents onto the road. I couldn't regain control. I couldn't see straight. Between motion sickness and worry bubbling in my gut, my dinner didn’t stand a chance of staying down.
“Help!” I roared.
I stumbled to the guard rail and peered over the edge. I gazed into the darkness below, watching it undulate, as if it were laughing at me. I looked around for the car I knew had plummeted over the edge. I tried to gaze beyond the darkness. Beyond the movement. Beyond the endless expanse of nothing that seemed to cloak the fall downward.
“Are you down there?” I exclaimed.
I heard someone calling my name. Someone off in the distance. I whipped my head up, surveying the world around me. All it did was fall into darkness. Slowly, the creeping nothingness swallowed up colors. Shapes. Sounds. My eyes widened as the road disappeared. I looked up, watching the stars get swallowed whole by the hellish expanse of Vantablack around me. I kept backing up until my legs touched the mangled guard rail. I felt the piercing, heated shards dig into my skin while the flames themselves were put out by the nothingness that surrounded me.
Then a piercing sound ricocheted through my ears.
I stumbled back, falling off the edge and into the darkness below. I reached up for the world above me, but it quickly fell away. Everything got swallowed up. I felt myself falling. Panicking. Breathing harder and harder. I flailed my arms, turning myself around until I was facing what I thought was the ground.
And it was then I saw it.
“No,” I gasped.
I bolted upright in my bed, feeling sweat trickling down the nape of my neck. I wiped at my brow, listening as my alarm for school went off. I licked my chapped lips, wincing at how dry they were as I tossed the covers off my bare legs. I closed my eyes as my feet touched down onto the dirty carpet of my floor, burying my face in my hands.
“Not again,” I murmured.
That damn dream never ceased to haunt me. For as long as I could remember, it started off every fucking school year. Without fail. The night before my first day of school, I’d have that dream. It didn’t matter what I did, what I ate before bed, whether or not I took something to help me sleep, or what I watched in order to fall asleep. For years, that same dream ushered in my years of school.
And it seemed as if my senior year of high school was no different.
“I need a shower,” I murmured.
The cold sweats always made me feel gross. Especially when they soaked through the T-shirts I wore at night. I pulled it all off, even my soaked panties, before tossing them into the hamper. Even from beyond my bedroom door, I heard the snores of a man. Some man my mother had probably dragged home from the bar last night. I rolled my eyes as I walked into my bathroom. I turned the water on and let it run for five minutes before I sighed.
Apparently, I’d have to take a cold shower this morning.
“Great,” I whispered.
It was the shortest shower of my life. But I did what I had to do. I washed my body, ran some shampoo through my hair, then decided to forgo conditioner so I could fucking get warm. I hopped out and reached for a towel, slipping and sliding everywhere in the process. I still didn’t have my legs underneath me. This summer had been enough of a hell-binding, torturous state. What with my terrible ongoing job at the grocery store and Mom sucking down half of whatever I made at the bar every night. I got the job my freshman year to start helping out. I got the damn job in the first place so we wouldn’t have to keep picking and choosing which bills to pay every month.
But when I went to turn on my bedroom light, I realized the only thing my money did was help my mother bring home more men.
Because our electricity had been shut off.
“Fucking great,” I sighed.
I focused on getting ready for school, because the sooner I got out of the house the sooner I could let this entire summer fall from my mind. I tied my hair back into a low ponytail, then brushed my teeth. I pulled on the first outfit my hands found, since I couldn't see what the hell I was doing. And after rummaging around in the change jar for lunch money, I grabbed my backpack and an apple to have for breakfast. I even grabbed a water from the pantry, just to splurge on myself a little bit.
The relief I felt as I stepped out onto the porch almost knocked me off my feet.
I saw the foreign car in the driveway and shook my head. It sure as hell wasn’t her boyfriend’s car. Nor was it hers. I snickered as I walked up the driveway, making my way to school. My mother was notorious for bringing home random one-night stands. Even if she did have a steady boyfriend who gave her whatever the hell she wanted.
You know, in exchange for knocking her around a little.
“And yet, we still can’t pay our bills,” I muttered.
I took a large bite of my apple before cracking open the bottled water. I knew I’d catch hell for it after school, since my mother practically had a counter on the food in our home. But I didn’t care. I was thirsty as hell after sweating through the night. After dealing with that stupid nightmare.
I shivered at the thought of it.
“There she is!” Michael exclaimed.
I smiled as I tossed my apple core down a drain pipe. Allison came barreling for me, her long blond hair billowing in the summer breeze behind her. I held my arms out, cat
ching her as she ran into me, almost knocking me clear off my damn feet. I hugged her tightly as the collar of her Ralph Lauren shirt tickled my neck. And before I could even let go to take a look at her parents’ traditional ‘first day of school’ outfit for her, Michael had his arms around both of us.
Squeezing the ever blessed-fuck out of our bodies.
“Michael, I can’t breathe,” Allison choked out.
“Mike. Are you high?” I croaked.
“Oh, I missed the two of you. I didn’t see you guys at all this summer,” Michael said.
“Stop. Please. I beg of you,” Allison said breathlessly.
“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” I hissed.
Michael released us and we both dropped to our feet. Allison and I heaved for air, then I stood back and surveyed her outfit. Typical, for her parents. A bright pink collared shirt with a pale blue emblazoned Ralph Lauren logo against her chest. A khaki skirt with boat shoes that were, somehow, the same color as her khakis. I giggled at the laces matching the pink hue of her shirt and the pale blue earrings twinkling in her ears. I shook my head in fascination, never ceasing to be amazed at the outfits her parents could conjure.
I snickered. “Your parents single-handedly keep Ralph Lauren in business.”
Allison held out her arms. “What? They’re good clothes. You mean you don’t like this outfit? I wore the blue just for you.”
Michael grinned. “Well, by the looks of Rae, black and brown are in this year.”
I rolled my eyes. “Says the boy wearing eggshell-colored shorts that come two inches above his knees.”
Allison nodded. “I’m just impressed you know what shade ‘eggshell’ is.”
Michael faked a tear. “Mom would be so proud of you.”
I looked down at my outfit and shook my head. I looked like a maniac. My hair was frizzy from no conditioner. My black shirt had lint and dust all over it. And my brown pants were so baggy my inner thighs rubbed together when I walked. None of which took into account my bright green flip-flops Mom had purchased for me this summer on a whim to apologize for some fight she had with her boyfriend.
A fight that wound up destroying my hand-me-down iPod because it got thrown against the wall.
“You guys ready for school?” I asked.
But my two best friends in the entire world were giving me ‘the look.’
I sighed. “Guys, not now. Please.”
Allison quirked an eyebrow. “Did you have that nightmare again?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “Or did your mother do something?”
I shrugged. “Why can’t it be both?”
Michael shook his head as Allison let out a string of curses under her breath.
I giggled. “Don’t let your mom hear you talk like that.”
Michael wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Anything I can do?”
“Yeah. You can stop dwelling on it and help me get to school faster.”
The three of us fell in line, abandoning my rundown neighborhood in exchange for perfectly-manicured lawns and sprawling homes. That was the Riverbend High area I knew. Not the rundown shacks in the shadows of the town I lived in, but the massive homes Allison and Michael lived in. They lived perfect lives. They had perfect families. Michael with his adoptive parents that loved him as if he were their own. And Allison with her biological parents that were still very much in love. It seemed that with the nicer suburbs came nicer lives. Nicer parents. Nicer homes to be raised in and nicer food to eat. I envied them for the lives they had. I envied the relationships they had with their parents.
I’d kill to have that relationship with my one parent.
Allison cleared her throat. “So what are you two doing this weekend?”
Michael smiled. “Please, oh please tell me this is leading into another weekend visit at your place. I love your basement, and girl talk is always fun to listen to.”
I laughed. “You know I’m not doing anything. I only work every other weekend at the grocery store even though I beg for more hours. You know how it goes. Why?”
Allison linked her arm with mine. “Well, my parents are going to Palm Springs Thursday evening for a spa retreat. Won’t be back until Monday afternoon.”
Michael thrust his fist into the air. “Yes! Girl time! Nailed it!”
I threw my head back in laughter as Allison shook her head.
“Seriously, though. You guys should come over. The both of you. We can watch girly movies and eat shitty food,” she said.
Michael smiled brightly. “And I can finally get you two to watch Top Gun.”
I sighed. “Are you really still on that tangent? You haven't gotten us to watch it for two years. What makes you think this weekend is gonna be any different?”
Allison snickered. “We’ll watch Top Gun if you paint our toes.”
Michael pointed at the two of us. “Deal.”
My jaw dropped. “Wait, don’t I get a say in this?”
Michael shook his head. “Already made the deal. Sorry, guys!”
Allison whispered, “I mean, he’s going to paint our toenails. Make the most of it, okay?”
I shook my head, watching as Michael grinned. I knew there wasn’t a damn thing that boy wouldn't do for Allison. He had it bad for her, and she knew it. It was cute, though. They’d been going back and forth for damn near two years with one another. Flirting, but neither of them making a move.
I mean, they’d make cute preppy little babies. With his above-the-knee shorts and her collared shirts.
The child would come out wearing boat shoes, if they had anything to do with it.
Allison furrowed her brow. “What’s so funny?”
I giggled. “Nothing. Just thinking about this weekend.”
Michael paused. “You better wash your feet. I’m not painting grody toenails.”
I shrugged. “You already agreed. No toenails, no Top Gun.”
He shook his head. “You’re gross, you know that?”
Allison winked. “I’ll wash mine, don’t worry.”
Michael stared down at me. “If you don’t wash your feet, I’m painting your toenails purple.”
I gasped. “You wouldn't dare.”
Allison butted in. “Or pink!”
My eyes narrowed. “I’d kill you both in your sleep.”
Allison moved from my arm to Michael’s as the three of us stepped onto the school’s sidewalk. We kept talking about our weekend, making plans for food and drinks and what time we’d be over. I knew it wouldn't be an issue, either. Mom never gave a shit what I was doing on the weekends. She was nowhere to be found, which gave me free rein of the house and whatever was in it.
Then the three of us came to a stop in front of the high school doors.
“You guys ready for our last year?” Michael asked.
Allison nodded. “I already know where I’m applying for college. Just gotta make the grades to get me there.”
Michael looked down at me. “What about you, Rae?”
I shrugged. “Could be worse.”
Allison peeked over. “Do you know where you’re going to be applying for college?”
I didn't know how to answer her. I was a C-plus student, at best. Which meant my future included community college, a technical degree, and a prayer to somehow get the hell away from my mother for good.
Michael knocked against me. “Earth to Rae. You there?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. Allison’s question dazed me there. Because for the life of me, I don’t know how a sane person can be standing in front of school and be thinking about more school.”
And as Allison playfully stormed away from us, Michael ran after her. Like he’d always done.
Leaving me to stand there and smile at them as dread slowly filled my gut.
2
Clinton
I groaned and rolled over, burying my face into the pillow. It reeked of booze and regret, just how I liked it. My jeans rubbed against my legs and I groaned, then w
iggled my toes. I felt my bike boots on my feet over the sweaty socks creating blisters against my heels. I rolled over, flopping onto my back as I sprawled out in my king-size bed.
And I lay there in the pitch black room, reliving the fantastic party the other night.
I grinned as the sun tried its hardest to stream around my blackout curtains. I cracked my neck, then toed off my boots. I needed to get these damn socks off. I needed to change my pants. I needed to get washed up for the first day of school.
Then again, I didn’t really want to.
“Fuck school,” I murmured.
I rolled back over, reaching for my cellphone. And when I clicked the harsh white light on, I chuckled. Of course it was almost lunch time. I’d slept through my first two periods. What a great way to start my senior year. The smell of alcohol followed me as I sat up. I burped, and the taste was rancid. I was damn near the puking stage, but I refused to do that.
I refused to pussy out after the best party of the summer.
I slipped to the edge of my bed, groaning. I felt like utter shit. One too many beers, and it was hard to move. Hard to think straight. Hard to even fathom getting myself cleaned up so I could get to school. I mean, if my parents figured out I was late for my first day, all hell might break loose.
They might video chat me from their safari trip and really give me a good tongue lashing.
“Idiots,” I said, snickering.
I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled into the wall. I caught myself with my hands, but the glaring rays of the sun made me cower away. Fuck, that sun was bright. Did it have a dimmer dial of some sort? I sighed as I stumbled my way around my darkened room, running my knees into furniture and jamming my pinky toe against my bed frame.
