Aftereffect (The Order of Ravens and Wolves Book 1)

by T. L Hodel

  Yes! Running! That sounded like a fantastic idea! Problem was, I couldn’t make my feet to move.

  “Not so brave now, are you?” His soft lips touched my neck, blazing a hot trail up to my ear. “I should fuck you right here, right now.”

  Panic shot through my veins, kicking me into fight mode. I threw my heel back and raked my nails down his arm.

  “Fuck!” Micha snarled, snatching my wrists and slamming them on the wall above my head. His knees clamped my legs together, effectively taking away my chance of fighting. Still, I struggled.

  “I’ll scratch your eyes out!” I screamed, using all my strength to wriggle against his hold.

  “You want to play, baby?” My heart stopped when his voice dropped an octave. “Okay. Let’s play.”

  My mouth apparently had a mind of it’s own. The words came out before I could stop them. “I’d play with Logan before I’d play with you!”

  Micha went stiff, and I’d never been more scared in my life.

  Now you’ve done it, Riley! Couldn’t keep your big mouth shut!

  While expected something, I didn’t expect what happened. I felt it before I heard it. Pain bloomed across my ass, spreading a sharp sting up my back and down my thighs. Micha’s arm rose, swinging back for another strike.

  “Stop it!” I demanded when his heavy hand landed on my other cheek.

  But he didn’t even slow down. Micha continued his onslaught, and I couldn’t do anything but hug the wall and pray it would be over soon. This wasn’t the playful spankings in the books Shelby read. This was meant to punish and break my will, and it was working. My backside was on fire, hips aching from banging into the wall, as my chin quivered and tears openly poured down my face.

  “Please stop.”

  I didn’t handle pain well. I stared wearing shoes in the house after I stubbed my toe, and I threw out all my Legos after I stepped on one. Honestly, I was surprised I didn’t freak out when Chase pierced my bellybutton.

  “Keep testing me, Mouse,” Smack! “And you won’t be able to sit down for a week.” Smack!

  “I’m sorry.”

  And I was. Micha’s wrath wasn’t worth a few seconds of satisfaction.

  “You haven’t even begun to be sorry . . .” he grumbled in a tone that sent a cold spike of fear down my spine, “but you will.”

  “I’ll be good.” It was the only thing I could think to say. “I promise.”

  His hands flattened on the wall by my head. “You’ll be a good girl, will you?”

  Feeling weak and humiliated, I pressed my face into the cool stone and nodded. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, while my chest heaved and loose strands of hair stuck to my forehead.

  “Alright,” Micha purred in my ear. “Let’s see how long you can keep up the good girl act?”

  I held my breath waiting for the next strike and was overcome with relief when it didn’t come. Instead he slid his palms up my thighs and under my skirt. This was a test; I knew Micha well enough to know that. I swallowed my pride and willed my body to remain still.

  “The next time you decide to get friendly with some guy, I’ll fuck you in front of him. I don’t share my shit, Riley.”

  I managed to bite my tongue when Micha palmed my sore flesh. But when his thumbs hooked in my panties, my fragile control slipped. I bolted.

  He was expecting it.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground before I could take another step.

  “Fuck you!” I screamed, striking his arm with my fists. “I hate you!”

  “There’s my tough girl.”

  I flailed wildly, kicking my dangling feet, and slapping the vise-like grip around my waist. I’d have had better luck taking on a Mack truck. Micha didn’t even flinch. He held me up with one arm like I weighed nothing.

  “Hey boss.”

  That’s when I noticed the phone in his hand.

  “Can’t handle me yourself, gotta call in back up now?” I snarled and swung my arm back, narrowly missing his face. “Good! I’ll kick his ass too.”

  Micha’s voice was calm, eerily so. “You got her?”

  “She’s practicing with the track team.”

  I froze, heart stopping with my struggle.

  Shelby was on the track team.

  Micha’s dark eyes locked on mine. “I want you and the guys to run a train on her.”

  “No!” I screamed. I couldn’t let them hurt Shelby.

  The voice on the phone chuckled. “Levi will be happy. He’s been dying to get a piece of that.”

  I reached out, grabbing Micha’s hand before he could hang up.

  “No! Don’t.” I went limp and quietly said, “I’ll do whatever you want. Just, please, don’t hurt Shelby.”

  Micha watched me for a second, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Kneel,” he ordered dropping me back on my feet.

  What could I do? I hung my head in defeat and slowly sank to my knees.

  “I’ll call you back,” Micha said and stuffed his phone in his pocket.

  I sat there under his oppressive gaze, blinking the tears out of my eyes, as he slowly stalked around me, circling his prey.

  He tugged my ponytail free, letting my hair cascade down my back, and stroked my head like some kind of pet. Tears of frustration rolled down my cheek.

  “I know you hate me right now . . .”

  I did. More than before, if that was even possible.

  My fists balled and I swallowed my anger. I couldn’t afford to lose my temper right now. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me.”

  “I don’t hate you, Mouse. Never did. I actually have a lot of respect for you.”

  Sure, you do.

  I sucked in a shuddered breath and angrily wiped the tears off my face. “I hate you.”

  “I know.” Micha tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I just don’t care.”

  I shivered at the way his gaze darkened. What made it worse was how my body reacted. Part of me wanted him to hold me down and take what he wanted.

  “Does this get you off, you sick fuck?” I snarled, not sure if I was talking to him or myself. “Forcing girls to do what you want?”

  “Yes.” The corner of his mouth curled. “But don’t kid yourself, Mouse . . . it gets you off too.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  If I said it enough, would it make it true?

  “I might believe that,” he lowered himself down, squatting to my eye level, “if you weren’t squeezing your thighs together so tight.”

  I dropped my gaze and swallowed, not wanting him to see the truth. Why couldn’t I be normal? Normal people went on walks on the beach. They had dates, and white picket fences with two-point-three kids. Normal people ran from the devil . . . they didn’t dance with him.

  “Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going to let you hide who you are.” He brushed my hair back and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to make you fucking embrace it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Micha

  “All you did was spank her?” Logan tossed his bag into his locker and shook his head. “She’s fucking lucky she’s not mine.”

  Any chick should consider themselves lucky they weren’t Logan’s. My best friend wore the charming playboy vibe well, but underneath . . .? Underneath was a monster who fed off the pain and suffering of others. The louder a chick screamed, the harder he came.

  “And what would you have done?” I asked, opening the door and letting the clean smell of chlorine fill the locker room.

  “Probably backhanded her.” he shrugged and followed me around the edge of the pool. “But I can guarantee you,” he added while winking at a group of girls who were eye-fucking us from the bleachers, “she sure as hell wouldn’t do it again.”

  “Kessler! Hudson!” Coach yelled and clapped his hands, ushering us along. “Get the lead out of your ass!”

  “She won’t do it again.” I said as I climbed up on my block.
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  I missed this. Not the girls – I could give a fuck about them. It was the smooth feel of tiles under my feet and the humidity in the air. That rush of adrenaline pumping through my veins. Every time I won a competition, I was a little closer to conquering the demons of my past. Fear was a weakness, and I was Micha Kessler. Future King of Kings. I didn’t do weaknesses.

  “I don’t get you,” Logan tsk-ed taking his position next to me. “All that prime pussy just screaming to be used, and you never partake.”

  My brow rose, as I cocked my head his way. “How many of them have you fucked?”

  Bastard just smirked in response.

  Shaking my head, I stared at the clear water and gripped the edge of the block. My back twitched, muscles tensing as my fingers dug into the hard surface. A slow reaction time could cost the race, and I didn’t lose. I almost did once . . .

  * * *

  Nine years ago:

  “This taste’s funny,” Mason whined, kicking his red sneakers off the back of our mom’s seat.

  She sighed and started the car. “Just drink it, honey.”

  Mason was so excited when he heard we were getting ice cream and a milkshake. Now he didn’t even like it. I couldn’t argue, though. It did taste bad. Strawberries are supposed to be sweet. I took another sip, smacking my lips at the bitterness.

  We spent an hour at a little fair a town over, and another at the petting zoo Mase loved. Mom even took us to the go-cart track – one of the few places I liked. She wouldn’t let Logan come, though.

  Mason bumped my shoulder. “Let me try yours,” he said, his greedy hand reaching out.

  I passed my cup to him, and grumbled, “Have it.”

  He quickly grabbed it. Dangling feet swung happily as he sucked on the straw.

  “Like it?”

  He smiled and nodded his head.

  “Good.” Letting my heavy head fall back, I closed my eyes. We should be home soon.

  Drip, drip, drip.

  What was that?

  Drip, drip, drip.

  Why was it so dark? It was the middle of the day.

  Drip, drip, drip.

  I sat up, yawned, and rubbed my eyes. Mase was asleep beside me. Head back, mouth wide open and chest heaving with deep breaths. His arms hung at his sides, one hand still holding my shake, haphazardly spilling the contents on the seat.

  Drip, drip, drip.

  “Mason,” I yawned, closing my eyes, “you’re spilling.”

  Drip, drip, drip.

  “Mason!” I tried again, this time slapping his arm.

  The cup flew out of his grip, splattering the contents on the back of the seat. I stared at the pink cloud sliding down the fabric, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. Why didn’t that wake him up?

  I sat up and tried again, shaking Mase and calling his name.

  “Mom,” I called out worried, “Mase isn’t waking up.”

  “It’s okay honey,” she said, staring at the lake through the windshield. “We’ll all be asleep soon.”

  * * *

  The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle cut through the air, spurring me into action. I launched my body and sliced into the cool water with the grace it took years to master. At the end of the pool, I flipped around, kicked off the wall and swam back. I pushed my limbs to work harder and move faster, always faster.

  The light was right there. I had to get Mase to the light.

  The erratic beat of my pulse echoed in my ears, while icy claws reached out, threatening to suck me into a dark abyss of pain and misery.

  “Come on, Mase, breathe!”

  “I was having a good day until realized I was coaching a bunch of girls!” Coach yelled. “What were you pussies doing all summer, having slumber parties and painting your nails? PICK UP THE PACE!”

  I was the first to finish. There was a reason I was captain, and it had nothing to do with who my father was. Holding on to the edge of the pool, I pushed my goggles to the top of my head and swept the water off my face. Only then did I allow myself to release a satisfied breath.

  “Congratulations, Kessler, you’re two-point-four seconds slower than last year.” Coach chastised before turning his attention back to the pool. “Come on, Hudson, stop thinking about pussy . . . with time like this, you ain’t getting any.”

  I swore under my breath. If I’d been two seconds slower that day, Mason might not be here. Riley had consumed my summer. I might’ve become slightly obsessed with the raven-haired beauty. I could give her a permanent spot on the bleachers as my own person cheerleader. I liked the sound of that.

  Logan’s head popped up in the next lane. “Sorry Coach.” he apologized while waving at a giggly blonde. “I was distracted.”

  “When you’re in my pool, I own your ass,” Coach stated unimpressed. “Chase pussy on your own time.”

  “But you’re always telling us to not be tense.” Logan scanned Coaches stiff form and propped his elbows on the ledge. “You know a good hard fuck might help remove that sick from your ass. If Mrs. Bantam isn’t up for the job, I could set you up.”

  Snickers filled the air, bringing a satisfied smirk to Logan’s face. Fucker was asking for it.

  Coach returned Logan’s smug expression. “Congratulations, guys, Hudson here just bought you ten laps.”

  That wiped the grin off Logan’s face. He was constantly pushing Coach’s buttons. Like most of us, he had a problem with authority, which kind of came with the territory. Each one of us grew up being tested and prepared for a future decided before we were born. To say our childhoods weren’t normal was an understatement, though Logan’s, was a nightmare.

  “Come on Coach.” Logan pleaded. “Don’t punish us because your dick’s not getting any attention.”

  I shook my head. He just didn’t know when to quit.

  Coach’s stern face met Logan’s mocking grin. “Make that twenty laps.”

  I didn’t mind the extra work. The rest of the team, however, groaned in protest. Logan released a long breath and popped his goggles back in place.

  “That’s it,” Logan said as the shrill sound of a whistle cut through the air, “I’m fucking his wife tonight.”

  Chuckling, I took off, doing my laps without argument.

  After practice, I showered and walked up to my locker with a towel wrapped around my waist. Logan was already rifling through shit when I got there. I shook my head as a couple of bottles fell out and clinked on the floor.

  “It’s the first day,” I said, opening my locker. “How much shit do you have in there?”

  “Hey, it takes work to look this good.”

  “You’re worse than a fucking girl.”

  “Says the guy who sent me shopping for his girl.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say, you know what looks good.”

  “Yeah right.” He snorted. “You wanted her to have a closet full of lingerie.”

  Nothing wrong with that.

  Parker and the rest of the football team funneled in their side of the locker room, causing Logan to groan. “Here comes Callaghan.”

  “Hey, Kessler,” Callaghan called out. “Met your girl today. She’s a tasty little piece.”

  My fists clenched. Mason told me all about that shit. Kissing her hand like he was fucking prince charming. My mouse and I would have words about that.

  “Yeah, she made friends with your sister,” I said, turning around to smirk at Callaghan. “Guess she’ll be spending a lot more time with us.”

  That wiped the smile off his face. He knew by ‘us’, I meant Mase. The shit I did to Riley was nothing compared to what Mase does do Harper. She brought it on herself.

  “Keep your fucking brother away from my sister.” Callaghan growled.

  I arched my brow. “Or what?”

  He took a breath and squared his shoulders. “Your little girlfriend won’t be hanging around my sister for long.”

  That’s one of things I admired about Sean. Not many people could keep their composure when
I was pushing their buttons, but he always managed to reel it in before he blew. The only other person I knew with that kind of control, besides me, was my father. It made him a formidable foe. He had the downside of a conscience though.

  “I thought you’d be the last person to deny your sister a friend,” I tsk-ed and returned my attention to getting dressed. “But hey, I’m sure she good with the one she has.”

  He sighed, knowing I was right. Harper didn’t have anyone but Lana, mainly thanks to Mason.

  “Bye-bye now,” Logan sang, shooting Sean a wink.

  “You know what, you’re right. My sister does need more friends.” Sean smirked and sauntered to his side of the locker room. “She should have a slumber party . . .”

  I dropped my bag and glared over my shoulder. “What the fuck did he just say?”

  “Not you, too.” Parker sighed and rested his arm on the wall. “Maybe I should quit?”

  Parker was a damn good running back and he loved the game. It was hard for any of us to find something we truly enjoyed. I wasn’t going to take that away from him.

  “Don’t let Mase’s feud affect your game. It’s not your problem.”

  “Whitley!” Sean called from the other side of the room. “Consort with enemy on your own time!”

  Parker’s brows knitted together. “You sure?”

  Last year wasn’t so bad. Sean was just another guy on the team. This year he was quarterback and captain, which Mason didn’t like. He wanted Parker to quit.

  “Yeah. Go,” I said throwing my chin in the football team’s direction. “I got Mase.”

  “Okay.” Parker nodded. “Let me know if he needs to be taught a lesson. I’m sure with a few drinks and Jasmine’s help, I could get him on his knees.”

  I snickered. Parker’s bat swung both ways, but he got a thrill out of fucking straight guys. And Jasmine, that sick bitch, liked helping him do it.

  “Whitley!” Sean yelled again, making Parker walk away with a roll of his eyes.

  “Speaking of little bro . . .” Logan slapped my arm and pointed at Mason strutting through the doors. “Looks like he had fun.”

  “Fuck sake.” I muttered seeing the blood on his knuckles. “When’s he going to learn there are better ways to solve problems?”