by Callie Rae
“Alright, but stick close to us and please be careful. We don’t know whose house this is or when or if they will return,” I say as I rub a hand over my face. I’m trying to stave off the defeat I’m feeling, but with every moment it only becomes stronger. She was here; I can feel it. Now I just have to keep the rest of my family from facing the same fate by making sure they don’t get caught in situations like this one.
She relaxes, and the action tells me I was right. She was prepared for a fight. Then she rolls her eyes at me. Typical Jade attitude.
I nod once as I make eye contact with Cason, then Jade. “Let’s finish searching this goddamn place so we can get the fuck out of here.”
We all spread out, covering more rooms and continuing to comb over the place looking for any clue that could help us find Fallon. We search high and low, and just when I think this is going to be another dead end, Jade proves me wrong.
“Guys!” Jade calls out to us. I follow her voice around the corner and find her looking down a set of stairs behind a small door that I’d assumed was a closet. Cason is behind her looking over her shoulder down into the dark.
“I think it’s a basement,” she says as we all stare down a set of stairs.
“Yeah, looks like it,” Cason says, leaning in to see beyond the black hole. “Well, ladies first.” He clears his throat as he gestures for Jade to take the lead.
“Cason.” I look at him with an eyebrow raised.
“What? It’s dark.” He shrugs his shoulders.
Chicken shit.
Jade rolls her eyes and pulls her phone out. She turns on the flashlight feature and begins the descent down. Cason and I take out our phones and follow her down closely. The steps are old and creaky. The further down we go, the more it feels like a horror movie—the basement is always where all the fucked up shit happens.
It’s cold and damp, and I get chills as soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs. Cason veers off to the left into a room that is awkwardly placed in the center of the space. A light switches on and moments later, he reappears in the doorway.
“It’s a nasty bathroom. Looks like it was added recently, and it wasn’t done well.” He wrinkles his nose and I nod my head towards the opening to a larger room where Jade has already started searching. I don’t like her going in alone.
We walk into the room, and I shine my light around. There’s a cot on the ground in the corner, but that’s it. The cement block walls are bare, and the floor is basic concrete. A small, single stream of light filters in through a tiny window at the top of the wall.
“Someone was sleeping down here,” Cason says as he stares down at the cot. He avoids saying what we’re both thinking—that it was probably Fallon.
“Jesse.” Jade’s scared voice has me frozen in place. Any hope I still had is quickly fading. “I think Fallon was sleeping down here.”
“What do you mean Jade? Why do you think that?” I say slowly. My pulse picks up speed as I hold my breath.
“Because this is her phone.” Jade holds up a smashed phone into the beam of light from my own. There is no mistaking the cream and gold case, or the gold glitter that glistens off the light. I reach for it and turn it over in my hand. I gave her this case a few weeks ago. She didn’t have one and she was always dropping her phone.
It’s almost ridiculous that something so small can have such a huge impact. But just like that, my world has come crashing down around me.
Fallon was here.
“Fuck!” I scream. I throw the broken phone at the wall and watch it shatter completely. It falls to the ground, each piece clattering against the cold cement floor. I look for anything else within reach. The need for destruction runs through my veins. I grab onto the side of the cot and flip it against the wall. “FUCK!”
Cason and Jade stand silently by while I rage, making my mark on the walls and window. While I let every piece of my soul break as I roar out my agony.
She was here . . . and I wasn’t.
“Are you sleeping?” he whispers into my ear. He slowly drags his knuckle down my side, taking the sheet with it and allowing the cold air to hit my naked body.
“No, not anymore,” I say. With a giggle, I roll over to face him. I’m greeted with the sight of his sexy ruffled hair, a few days stubble on his chin, and his lazy grin. I bring my hand up to his face and lightly rub my hand through his stubble. It’s rough, kind of like him. I close my eyes as I nuzzle close to him and breathe in his scent. His natural woodsy smell fills my senses. It’s home. My only home.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks as he smirks, his greedy hand slowly making its way further south.
“Are you?” I ask.
He leans in, bringing his lips to mine as his fingers glide right over my sweet spot and find their way inside of me, making me moan against his lips. His hands start moving in a rhythm that makes me squirm in his arms.
“I always enjoy myself when you do that,” he tells me as he peers down at me with hooded eyes. He brings his thumb up to my core to drive me wild. “When I know the pleasure you’re feeling right now is because of me.”
He brings his lips to mine for a quick kiss, and then to my chin, and throat. He slowly makes his way down my body as his fingers steadily pump into me. His mouth is so close that I ache for it. I need him to release the tension he’s built up.
He blows on my clit, making me moan. I want him, I need him. Now.
A door slams, and all thoughts of being in bed with Jesse fade away. Disappointment washes over me when I realize that the ache between my legs and Jesse’s scent are gone. Instead, all I smell is dirty bathroom, confirming before I even open my eyes that I’m still handcuffed to a towel bar in my own personal hell and still sitting on the top of the toilet tank where I’d perched to try to get comfortable while my hands were still bound. I must have dozed off.
I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. I try to bring Jesse’s scent to the forefront of my mind but the sound of something crashing keeps me from reaching my happy place. The door to the bathroom flies open, and I can feel Marcus’s gaze on me as he stands in the doorway. I peek through one eye at him and sigh.
“What now?” I ask as I sit up to look at him. I’m bored of his games. “Someone told you no again?”
“I saw your boy. He broke into the house today. With his sister and that cousin of his,” Marcus snarls. “Jax led them right to it. Too bad for them though, because they didn’t find you.”
This perks me up instantly. Jesse found the house? A little bit of hope trickles into my soul.
Jesse. Found. The. House.
The hope comes crashing down when I realize that he missed us by only a few hours. He almost found me. He was so close to rescuing me. I squeeze my eyes shut as the reality of the situation washes over me.
“What? Nothing smart to say?” Marcus asks, pulling me out of my moment. I look at him and a smile appears on his face. He’s amused that I’m hurting, the bastard.
I begin thinking about all the ways I would hurt him if I ever got the chance. I straighten my spine and narrow my eyes. “He’s coming for you.”
“He can try. He won’t find us. And it will be us,” Marcus says as he gestures back and forth between me and him while slowly coming closer to me.
“There will never be an us. There’s only you, blissfully unaware of how revolting you are to me,” I say as I wrinkle my nose in disgust.
Marcus moves in closer, straddles the closed toilet seat and forces my legs open so he can stand between them, effectively caging me against the wall with his arm. He grips my face, pulling it up to greet his. “This would be much easier on you if you’d just accept the fact that you’re not going anywhere.”
His hand glides up my thigh as he pushes himself closer until his body is flush against mine. “I haven’t forgotten, you know. I haven’t forgotten how to please you.” His hand reaches up towards my waistband and the vile tast
e of bile rises from my stomach into my throat. The thought of him touching me ever again makes it hard to swallow the vomit. “I remember exactly how you like it. I could show you.”
He grinds against me as I try desperately to conjure a memory of anything happy to block out the feel of Marcus against my body. I think back to the night that Jesse erased his touch, the night I finally let him in.
He loosens the button to my pants. “Let me make you feel good again?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and reach for the memories of each touch from Jesse, trying to remember all the moments with him that washed away the taint of Marcus from my soul.
I can feel his growing erection through my pants. He continues to grind himself back and forth against me, making my stomach lurch. Between the nausea and the realization that there’s no way to get away from him I am struggling not to panic. There is no way out. I turn my head, yanking it from his grasp, and breathe. Just breathe, Fallon. I need to contain myself to make sure he understands where I will go in my head if he does that. “You can do whatever you want to me. But just know that I’ll be imagining it’s him the entire time. His touch, his face, his everything. I’ll imagine it’s Jesse, because he owns my soul. And my pleasure.”
Marcus’ body stills between my legs. The cold air hits me before I realize the spot where he once was standing is now empty. I open my eyes and quickly scan the bathroom in search of him. My eyes are met with the most evil, icy glare I’ve ever seen staring back at me. I can’t bring myself to look away from the monster that stands before me, for several reasons, but mostly because I resurrected him once again with only a few words. That’s all it took.
“Get used to your imagination then. Because his hands will never touch you again. I’ll make sure of it,” he says. He turns to leave but stops at the door to turn and look at me over his shoulder. “I brought food for you, but I don’t think you’re hungry enough yet.”
Fuck. I’m starving.
Vodka. My drug of choice. It’s the only thing numbing the pain of knowing that Fallon was right under my nose this entire fucking time. It didn’t take us long to figure out who owned the house and connect that person back to Marcus. To my surprise, the house is owned by Maria Hennings, Marcus’s mother. When we got back home, Jade tried to convince me to go to the police. To let them handle this going forward. I couldn’t tell her that I made a promise that I needed to keep. A promise that included no police.
None of that matters. She was right there, in my town, and I had no idea. My control over this place is slipping. The king of Cherry Creek is falling, and I can’t do shit about any of it. The only thing I’m capable of right now is finding a way to numb the hurt inside.
I take a sip from the fifth of vodka in my hand. It doesn’t burn anymore; it stopped burning about thirty minutes ago, around the same time my lips went numb.
I close the bottle and drop it in my bag. We have a game tonight—a basketball game. It’s sickening to know I am going to a basketball game while my girl is out there somewhere, possibly hurt, and for sure being tortured by her worst nightmare. And here I am, continuing my life like nothing happened. It feels wrong. It all feels so fucking wrong. I pick up the bag and throw it across the room just as Cason walks in and ducks out of the way.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I sit on the bed and put my head in my hands.
“You good, man? It’s almost game time,” Cason says. “You know I could call Coach. He’d probably get it. You don’t have to go. We’d all understand.”
“Nah, I’m good. I promised.” I shrug my shoulders just as Cason sniffs the air.
“Have you been drinking?” he asks. He walks over to my bag and, just as he picks it up, vodka begins to drip out of the bottom of it. Well, I guess I’ll be going to the store later. Kenny is working tonight. He’ll hook me up for sure.
“You can’t go to the game like this. We need to sober you up.” Cason grabs me by the arm, but I push him off. I don’t need to feel it all again. He just doesn’t understand.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s just go.” I walk through the door, leaving my bag and its ruined contents sitting in a wet heap on the floor.
I’m not going to make it through this.
My game is off. Who am I kidding? My entire fucking life is off. But my game is fucking trash tonight. Seems to be the theme lately.
Coach calls a time out, and I can’t blame him. His star player is about to heave vodka all over his court, but he doesn’t know that. All he knows right now is that I’m failing at basketball.
“Dude, can you keep it together through the rest of the game?” Cason hisses as he jogs up beside me. “We can’t let this wimpy-ass team beat us.”
“Callaway what is going—why the hell do you smell like a bar? Have you been drinking, son?” Coach asks when I jog up next to him in the huddle.
“I’m good Coach,” I say out of breath. Running, sweating, and vodka don’t mix.
“The hell you are. You’re greener than the broccoli my wife packed in my lunch!” he hollers.
“I’m good,” I say through gritted teeth. The fact that I can’t even get basketball right only makes the pain inside worse. I need to be able to do something right.
“Son, there is nothing good about the way you smell right now,” Coach says. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but bench it, Callaway.”
“Coach! No way,” Cason argues.
“Cap it, Cruise. I don’t need you two trying to tag team me. My decision is final,” Coach says.
“It’s cool,” I raise my hands and head to the bench with several complaints being heard from the crowd. I can’t be out there failing the team too. I grab a towel and a bottle of water as I wash off the stench of cheap vodka seeping out through my pores. I run the towel through my sweat-laden hair just as I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. Mira passes through the gym doors. The hair stands up on my body.
Narni said Fallon was talking to Jordan and Mira. Holy fuck! Why didn’t I think about Mira before now?
I take off running and follow Mira through the double doors.
“Jesse?” I hear Cason call out my name right before the doors slam shut behind me.
I don’t stop. Something urges me to follow her, so I do. I look around, and I find her retreating down the hall, so I take-off in her direction until I’m jogging towards her.
“Mira!” I call out, “Mira, Wait.”
She freezes in the middle of the hall and slowly turns to face me as I catch up to her. There is fear in her eyes, and I haven’t even started. When her face pales I know right then I should’ve questioned her before now. I might’ve found Fallon if I had.
“You were there that night, weren’t you? At the party. You spoke to her,” I say as I step into her space slowly.
“What? I—I don’t know.” Mira stutters as she backs away from me. She’s nothing more than a scared child in this moment. The stench of fear practically wafts off her in waves. But what is there to be afraid of if she’s done nothing wrong?
“People saw you. They saw you talking to her. Do you know what happened to her? Tell me what you know,” I beg as I walk towards her, reaching out to grab her shoulders.
She has to know something. Anything. She has to help me find Fallon.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“Yes, you were. People saw you talking to her. You were her friend, Mira—how could you not help her?” I ask, the desperation, frustration and anger leaking out of me.
Why doesn’t she understand that I need to find her?
“Jordan talked to her. Jade was sick, but then I left. I drove Narni home because she was upset. I swear I don’t know anything else. You’re hurting me,” Mira cries out.
“Let her go, Jesse. She doesn’t know anything.” Cason grips both of my arms and I blink. I don’t know how it happened, but I’d backed Mira up against the lockers with both hands gripped around her upper arms. I
jerk back and look at her. She looks terrified. I don’t blame her.
“Go, Mira. I’ll take care of him,” Cason says.
Mira slides across the lockers, slowly putting space between us. As soon as she’s out of arm’s reach, she turns and runs.
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Cason asks as he shoves me. “You can’t be attacking girls on school property.”
“Yeah,” I say. I begin walking away towards the nearest exit. I need to get out of here. I need to clear my mind.
“Where are you going?” Cason calls out as I keep walking. “Jesse?”
“I need a minute,” I yell before I begin jogging away. Away from it all.
I need air. Nah, I need vodka. Who the fuck am I kidding? I need her.
I lean back against Jesse’s shoulder after a satisfying . . . swim. We always end up on the side of the lake just watching the water, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I mostly think about the future; namely, what our future together looks like. I don’t reflect on the past because my present is, for once, happier.
Jesse’s hand caresses my thigh. If I had to guess, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Surprisingly, Jesse is a toucher. If I’m near him, he is touching me in some way or form. He doesn’t notice, but I do. I will always notice his touch—it’s electrifying for me. But it’s also reassuring. It tells me he isn’t leaving. It’s comforting to know he’s always there. And somehow, he subconsciously knows I need it. I need to feel him. I need that reassurance.
“Have you thought about college anymore?” I ask him. It’s a touchy subject for him. He’s caught between what he wants to do with his life and what his father wants him to do. I’ll support him no matter what he chooses, as long as he chooses it for himself. Not for me, not for his father, not for anyone else but himself.
