by Hart, Rebel
“Ophelia,” my mom gasps in disappointment and embarrassment.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I bark.
“I appreciate your independence,” he responds slowly, biting back anger. “But you need a phone, Ophelia. One that can access email and other things. Now more than ever while you’re deciding where you’ll go to college and taking your final tests. Graduating. People need to be able to get in touch with you.”
“The flip phone works fine,” I quip back stubbornly. “We’ve made it this far without your help, Theo. We’ll be okay without your handouts.”
My mom lets out a heavy sigh, gearing up to lecture me. But Theo raises his hand to silence her and gets ready for his own speech. I hate seeing them together like this. Like two parents working together. Which I guess is what they are, but I still have a hard time seeing Theo as anything beyond a sperm donor.
“It’s not for you. It’s for me,” he explains, almost looking choked up. “I can’t do anything about the past, but I do think about it all the time. All those years I let go by without making more of an effort to see you. To help you two while you struggled…”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “Brendan helped. We didn’t need you.”
“As I was saying,” his voice tightens. “I can’t do anything to take all that back, but I do owe you. I owe you more than I could ever repay, but the least I can do is help you now like I should have been helping all this time. Take the phone, Ophelia. And more than that, I’d like to give you a new car.”
“What!?” I shriek, feeling like someone knocked the wind out of me. “A new car!?”
“Well, new for you,” he adds. “It’s used, but in great condition. All ready for you to drive.”
I’m filled with so many conflicting things that I don’t know what to say. On the one hand, Theo is right. He does owe us. And since he’s so insistent on showing up now and redeeming himself somehow, I might as well use it to my benefit. It’s not like I asked him to do any of this. And living without a decent phone or car has been hell.
But I also wonder if he knows what really happened to my old car. If he knows the Elites tried to kill me. He can’t, not by hearing the story from my mom. I never would have been targeted by them in the first place had Theo not been blacklisted by them all those years ago. Or even if he would have just let things be instead of coming after them for revenge. In that light, it’s really his fault I don’t have a car right now in the first place.
“Come outside,” Theo begs suddenly.
“Why?” I shoot back, my mind still racing.
He doesn’t answer. He just heads for the front door with my mom following behind. I hang back for a moment, taking a deep, frustrated breath. I don’t want to go with them, but I’m not sure it’s worth arguing.
Reluctantly, I peel myself from my seat and huff out the front door. Theo and my mom are waiting in the driveway. The moment I round the corner, the garage door starts to rattle. Behind it is sitting a shiny new car. It’s incredibly tempting and even has one of those big corny bows tied around it. I admire the sheen of the red paint job, and the fact that it isn’t keyed, spray-painted with obscenities or drenched in mystery bodily fluids. Most importantly, it’s not crushed on the side of a mountain.
“It’s very nice,” I admit quietly with my jaw tightened.
“It certainly is,” my mother chimes in. “Could you give us just a moment, Theo?”
“Of course,” he replies before strolling away down the sidewalk.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I just don’t…,” I start before she even has a chance to lay into me. But she raises a finger swiftly, demanding me to be quiet.
“I know, Ophelia,” she shoots back sternly. “I know this is uncomfortable for you. I raised you to be independent. And unfortunately, I also raised you believing you should hate Theo. But things change. People change. He’s trying to make amends. Why not give him a chance?”
I squirm under her gaze, immediately thinking of about a hundred reasons she’s unaware of that more than justify not giving Theo a chance. But once again, I’m struck down by how hopeful and eager she looks.
“I’m not asking you to love him or be best friends with him,” she continues. “Just let him help us this one time. We need it. Brendan and I already talked about it, and if he has the means to provide these things for you, we should let him. Like he said, he owes it to you. And you really don’t owe him anything in return, except to say thank you.”
I let out an exasperated groan as I accept that she’s going to force me to do this, one way or another. And the more of a fit I throw about it, I’m just making myself look like a brat. No matter how good my reasons are. But I know Theo. At least I know how greedy and calculating he is. And she’s wrong about nothing being owed to him in return. That’s not how he operates. All of this is for an end goal, and sooner or later he’ll expect all of us to pay up.
Then an exciting realization hits me. Taking the car and phone would make Brendan and my mom feel better. It’d be a huge weight off of their shoulders. But as for me…just as soon as I agree to take the things, Theo will leave, and I will be free. In my new car. I could drive over to Emmett’s before dinner and get him into bed. A need that has been so terribly neglected for a while now.
“Okay,” I announce. “You’re right, Mom. I’m in no position to turn it down.”
She smiles and nudges me over to Theo, who’s kicking little rocks around on the pavement up ahead. I march over, burning into him with a knowing glare. He knows this is just a small part of a much bigger conversation that we can’t have right now with Mom around. But for now, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make her happy. And then I’m going to go get laid. Finally.
“Thank you,” I call out to him as I walk closer, but my expression does not match the sentiment.
“It’s my pleasure,” he grins, ignoring the anger written all over my face. “Every teenage girl needs a car and a phone. And it’s not just about finishing high school. You’ll need them for college too.”
I nod my head and bite my lip. I don’t know what to do next. Even if it would delight my mom, there’s no way in hell I’m going to hug this man. But a handshake feels awkward too. Mostly I just want the keys so I can go speeding off. If I’m following through with this, I want to take full advantage of the opportunities it affords me.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” my mom yells from over my shoulder.
“I have a study date with Emmett!” I shout back instantly.
“I’ll get going,” he answers so quietly that only I can hear. He slides his hands into his pockets and looks at me with a humble, bashful expression. He looks sorry for everything, but I still think it’s all just an act. Guys like Theo don’t change overnight. But for once, at least I have something to show for it besides a bunch of father issues and the trauma of being held hostage at gunpoint.
And those are all the things it feels like I’m driving far, far away from as I hop into my new car and take off down the road. Only after carefully testing the brakes, of course.
8
Chapter Eight
I park my new car in front of Emmett’s apartment and try to push down any resentment I feel towards it as I hop out and lock the doors. It’s a favor to my mom. Being the bigger person. Or any number of other excuses I make for it, but nothing seems to shake the sinking feeling in my gut that comes from taking anything from Theo.
But I do my best to shake it all from my mind as I knock on Emmett’s door. This last semester has had a rough start for both of us and I am more than ready to forget it all for a little while.
He looks surprised to see me when he answers the door. His lips part, likely to ask how I got here, but I immediately crash my lips to his and push him inside, slamming the door behind us. I roll my tongue into his mouth, not giving him the chance to talk. Soon he melts into our kiss and matches my urgency, squeezing my ass as he pulls me in closer. We fumble through his mostly bare apartme
nt, frantically pulling at each other’s clothes.
Somewhere in the shuffle, the backs of my thighs find their way up against a countertop. Or a table or some kind of flat surface. I don’t really know or care. I just know it’s been too long and I need him inside of me as quickly as possible. He grips me from behind and hoists me up onto the surface before quickly snaking his fingers between my legs. He doesn’t even bother sliding my panties off. He quickly swipes the thin, wet fabric to the side and slips in.
Pushing his tongue deep into my mouth, his fingers caress me, with one thumb circling around my sensitive folds. I am already shaking with need by the time he starts kissing down my neck and chest, biting at my nipples through my shirt. I’ve already lost my bra some time after charging him at the door. He sucks and licks at them through the fabric until he grows impatient and slides his palms underneath, stretching around them with a firm squeeze. Soon the shirt is flying over my head, our lips barely parting for a second as he quickly tosses it aside.
His tongue sneaks across my skin, all the way down to his hand and he lets his mouth take over for his thumb. The minute his hot breath teases me, working alongside his fingers gliding in and out, I thrash my head back with an eager moan. I needed this so badly.
It’s almost more than I can take as he expertly rolls his tongue around my folds, sucking them into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. His fingers hook against my g-spot until I feel like I might explode. It’s so intense I find myself pushing him back slightly, but he fights against me and relentlessly pulls me further into his mouth until I am erupting with pleasure. My legs shake in his grip as it slowly fades, and I am still somehow left wanting more.
I clench my fingers into the curls of his hair and yank his mouth back to mine, relishing in my own taste on his lips. I quickly find my way between his legs and pull the hardness from his tight boxer briefs, stroking it as I urge him to slide inside of me. He’s just as worked up and impatient as me, and quickly uses my dripping wetness to guide himself in.
He pulls at my legs to angle my hips upwards, moving in and out of me at the perfect angle. But soon we’re lost in each other’s mouths again. He lifts me back into the air, not breaking our kiss or his thrust, and lowers back onto the nearby couch. I rear back, admiring the view of his gaping mouth and clenching muscles as I start to ride him. He’s impossibly hard and throbbing inside of me as I move up and down, gripping the bottom of his shaft with one hand to match my motions.
He hisses and digs his nails into my thighs. The nerves I feel pulsing through him tell me he’s close. I lift my arms above my head, running my hands up through my hair, giving him a good view of my body as I go faster. But he suddenly grabs my wrists and grips them behind my back, holding me in place as he gyrates his hips, doing all of the work for me. Taking complete control over our pace. With one hand securely wrapped around my arms, pinning them out of the way, he sneaks his other hand back to my clit.
“What are you doing?” I moan, quivering from the sensitivity.
“I won’t cum until you do,” he grunts, thrusting harder and faster.
“I…already..did,” I stammer out slowly in between the intensifying waves of pleasure.
“Cum again,” he commands, writhing against me and fingering against my tingling folds. I didn’t think I would cum again, but the moment he says the words and begins moving so skillfully, I instantly feel myself plummeting into another orgasm. It catches me off guard, leaving me trembling and limp as I crash down over his chest.
He lures me up, keeping his arms gripped behind me, as he turns me around on the couch. With one perfect slap to my ass, he slides back inside of me from behind. I’m so tight around him that in no time at all he is groaning in a way that tells me he is so close to cumming. He quickly pulls out and spills onto my back, rubbing along every inch of my skin within reach with his breathless moans.
After cleaning up, we reluctantly put some of our clothes back on and lay around on his couch for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“How did you get over here?” he finally asks, now that he has a chance.
“You’ll never believe it,” I huff. “My dad bought me a car. And a phone.”
“Really? I thought Brendan didn’t have the money for any of that right now.”
“No…Not Brendan. My quote, unquote real dad bought them for me,” I explain.
I feel his chest flex as he strains his neck to look down at me, studying the expression on my face as if I must be joking. “No shit…” he rasps.
“You don’t believe me?” I chuckle, still hardly believing it myself.
“I believe he’d try to do something like that,” he replies. “I just can’t believe you let him.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I tell him as I roll off of his body and look for the rest of my clothes.
He gets up and walks into his kitchen, throwing some kind of frozen food into his microwave. Emmett always gets hungry after we have sex, which has been an endearing quirk to learn about him. As sexy as it is to have a boyfriend with his own apartment, sometimes I miss the days when he was hiding out in a cheap motel. Things felt even more scandalous and romantic then.
Emmett’s mom let him back into the manor long enough to pick up a few things from his room, but she made sure he had no way to collect his bed and other furniture. He’s tried looking for a job, but as he expected, he hasn’t had much luck. His mom and sister, as well as the Hendersons, made sure everyone in town knew better than to hire him.
He’s been living off of whatever money he could make from selling his car and a few other heirlooms he retrieved from his room. He picked up an old sofa and mattress from the thrift store, but other than that the place is mostly empty. A poster from one of his favorite bands hangs crooked near an old television set. The rest of the walls empty with an almost taunting sadness.
Every time I think about how empty and gray the whole place is, I’m amazed he manages to stay in as high spirits as he does each day. But I know he’s just banking on us leaving town right after graduation. Once we get to a new place, hopefully before his reputation in Jameson catches up with him, he’ll be able to get a job and start figuring out the rest of his life.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a large box plopped near the front door. One that I am positive we tripped over at some point in our mad rush to get into each other’s pants.
“Another box of shit from the manor,” he answers despondently as he slides it over to the couch. “That’s what I was doing the day of your accident. I had to go pick it up. They brought it to the gate of course. Wouldn’t even let me pull up to the door.”
“That was…nice of your mom I guess…to give you more of your things?” I wince awkwardly, knowing very well that there’s nothing nice about any of this. A box of stuff? Great. How about a bed or the rest of his clothes. Money for food. Or any number of things she could still be providing her son who’s barely eighteen.
“Oh, it didn’t come from my mom,” he grunts. “The house staff of course. I guess they felt sorry for me.” He rummages through it, pulling out random items. A baseball, a t-shirt, and a few books. “It’s all pretty useless.”
One leather-bound book with no words on the front catches my eye just as he grabs it and tosses it to the ground. I quickly snatch it up and open it out of curiosity. There’s handwriting on the front page, in perfect cursive, that reads Property of Marissa Vanderbilt.
“Who’s Marissa?” I ask, trailing my thumb over the old ink.
“My mom,” he shoots back curtly as if it stings to say it. “I don’t know why they threw that in there. Must have been a mistake.”
“Her diary,” I gasp, rolling over to my stomach at rapt attention. “Did you read it?”
“Hell no,” he groans.
I can tell he wants nothing to do with it, but something about it seems important to me. Nothing about his family makes any sense. They’re corrupt, greedy, and heartless
. But reading his mother’s private thoughts seems like the perfect way to try to make sense of it all. It could provide some insight into what goes through her head that allows her to treat other people so terribly. I can’t resist stashing the book away in my coat.
With the diary hidden away, I look back up to Emmett. He’s standing over the kitchen counter chewing on his microwaved burrito, but he’s staring ahead in deep thought.
“You okay?” I ask.
He barely moves, making me think he didn’t even hear me at first. “Yeah,” he says blankly. “Just tired I guess.”
But I know he’s lying. What his family has put him through and the position they’ve left him in is still a big, raw wound in his life. I know it hasn’t been easy to go from being a spoiled rich kid living in a manor with his whole privileged life laid out before him down to the slums. A crappy apartment with nothing in it and no job. All while still walking through the prestigious halls of WJ Prep where any student would be literally disgusted if they saw the way he was living.
He was almost relieved at the thought of withdrawing and going to a public school, but Thomas Jameson had paid his tuition up long before his death. I think the only reason his mom didn’t make a point to have him kicked out was so Malcolm would be able to fuck with him up until graduation.
“I should probably get going,” I announce as I pull myself to my feet, still feeling dizzy from the amazing sex. Emmett nods slightly but still seems as if he’s off in another world. “Unless you want me to stay,” I suggest with concern. “Keep you company?”
“Nah,” he shakes his head, pushing around the last bite of his food. “Like I said, I’m tired.”
“Well…then…I’ll see you tomorrow,” I nudge my way into his arms, pulling myself against his chest. “I’ll meet you there. I finally don’t need a ride.”
