by Nicola Jane
“That’s not a good idea, Emily,” says Eva. She looks pissed. I give Emily a small smile and follow Eva out.
We head back to Eva’s house in silence. When we get inside, she throws her keys on the table. “Emily is fifteen,” she mutters.
“Sixteen,” I correct her. “Just.”
Her eyes widen. “It’s not okay, Cree. I don’t know what kind of fucked up shit you’re—” I move so fast towards her that she clamps her mouth shut.
“I’m not a fuckin’ nonce,” I growl. “I helped her.” She remains quiet. “I helped her,” I repeat in a calmer voice. “I caught a guy trying to take her. I’d been following him. He tried to drag her into his car.”
“Why didn’t you call the cops?”
“Because she asked me not to. I beat the guy and I got arrested. It’s why I have to see the shrink.” I sigh. Suddenly, I feel tired.
“I mean, when you saw him try to take her, why didn’t you call the cops instead of beating him?”
I scowl at her. “Because by the time the cops came, she would have been gone. He was part of a ring. A paedophile ring.”
Eva takes a seat on the couch. “Oh, I thought . . . ”
“I know what you thought,” I mutter. I sit down and lay my head back, suddenly unable to keep my eyes open from the sting of tiredness. It’s finally catching up with me. “I’m not a bad guy, Eva. I wear a patch, but it doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.” My eyes close and I take a few deep breaths. “People like you . . . ” I sigh, my eyes fluttering closed. “They don’t even give kids like me a chance.”
When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside and Eva is lying on the couch, also asleep. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to bed. She doesn’t stir as I tuck her under the covers. I place a gentle kiss on her head and go back downstairs. I settle back into the chair and let myself drift off again, which for once, is not a problem.
The following day, I wake up with a start and glance around. The drapes are open and sunshine beams through the windows. The smell of bacon fills the air and I can hear the radio humming low in Eva’s kitchen. I follow the smell and find Eva dancing around the kitchen with a spatula in her hand. I smile as I watch Eva mime along to Dolly Parton’s Jolene. She’s so carefree that it’s almost infectious. I lean against the door frame and absorb her happy energy. She spins around and her eyes land on me. She freezes and then laughs with embarrassment. “You know, you shouldn’t sneak up on a girl,” she says, going back to the pan of frying bacon. “I’m doing bacon and eggs if you’re hungry.”
I nod and take a seat at the breakfast bar. “Sounds perfect,” I say. Like you. I keep that thought in my head—it has no place here. She plates up the food and passes it to me followed by a coffee. I can’t help watching her ass sway to the music as she moves around the kitchen. “You not eating?” I ask through a mouthful of eggs.
“No. I’m gonna shower, grab a coffee, and head to work.” She goes to leave the kitchen, but I stand, blocking her way.
“You need to eat,” I say. She shakes her head, but I’m already leading her to the table. “You can’t go around not eating,” I add, pulling her onto my lap. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want her to rush off that I choose to sit her here. I spoon some of the eggs and hold it out for her. She side-eyes me and I raise my brows, letting her know this is not up for discussion. Eventually, she rolls her eyes, accepting that it’s the only way she’ll get to move from my lap, and she takes the eggs. I take a bite and then load it up again for her. This time, she takes the food without argument.
When the plate is clean, she twists slightly to face me better. She raises her hand slowly, watching me carefully as she moves it towards my chest. My jaw clenches, and without realising it, the hand that holds her on my lap bites into her thigh. My chest rises and falls faster as I watch her bring her hand to my chest, and when she finally places it there, I’m so tense and wound tight that the breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.
“Tell me why you hate it so badly?” she whispers. I stare hard into her kind blue eyes. There’re flecks of grey in her irises and they give them a unique glint that almost distracts me from the anxiety I currently feel from having her gentle hand laid against my chest.
I stand suddenly, and she almost tumbles to the floor. I have her wrist gripped tightly in my hand, and when she winces, I release it like she’s burned me. “I’ve gotta go,” I mumble and rush from the house.
Doctor Chapman looks surprised when she arrives at her office to find me sitting on the steps outside. She must read the distress in my face because she smiles kindly and produces a set of keys. “Let’s go inside.”
I watch from the doorway of her office as she hangs up her coat and bag. I don’t know why I came here. Usually, whenever I’m triggered like that, I find someone willing and fuck them until the anxiety eases. “I tried. You said to talk to someone I liked. I talked.”
Doctor Chapman assesses me from her spot by her desk. “And it didn’t go well?”
“Yeah, no.” I sigh and scrub my hands over my face. “I slept. For the first time in, I don’t even know, I slept. I spent the day with her yesterday. We hung out. I’ve never done that before,” I muse. I step further into the office. “We watched movies. We had dinner with her mum. She showed me her charity work.”
“That sounds amazing. I asked you to try and talk and you did all that. Elijah, that sounds like progress.”
“Then she touched me,” I add, and Doctor Chapman presses her lips together. “I took off.”
“She didn’t know you don’t like to be touched?”
“We haven’t discussed it. I think she has an idea. Whenever she’s tried to before, I’ve stopped her. But what the fuck do I say?” I feel angry and I clench my fists again. “She’s gonna think I’m a fuckin’ freak. She ain’t like the other girls. She’ll ask questions. She’ll push.”
“If you like this girl, why can’t you open up?”
“I told you!” I snap. “She’ll think I’m a freak.”
“Or she’ll take it easy with you,” she suggests. I close the office door and flop down in the nearby seat. “How does it make you feel? When she touches you, what happens?”
“It makes my skin crawl,” I mutter. “I want to get her away from me.”
“Years ago, when you said you had sex for money, did those women touch you?”
I think back and nod. “Yeah.”
“Can you remember when touching started to become an issue?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe after social services got involved. I was arrested when I was sixteen for drug dealing. I only had a bit on me. It wasn’t really enough for them to take it as far as a court case, but it was enough for them to pull me and dig around in my background. I guess when it all came out and I started talking to the cops, they made me see that those women . . . ” I shudder. “That it was all wrong.”
“You realised it was wrong, but it was not your fault. You were doing what you had to do to survive,” she soothes.
“I felt dirty,” I mutter.
“Tell me, Elijah, how do you feel around this woman you like?”
The thought of Eva brings a smile to my face. “She’s light. A beautiful light in this shitty world. She’s happy all the time and it’s annoying as hell,” I say affectionately. “I feel good when she’s around.”
“And when you think about her with you, standing next to you, what do you think other people see?”
“That she’s too good for me. That I’m all kinds of bad and she’s too good.”
“When she touches you, do you feel like you’re not worthy?” she asks, making notes in her notepad.
“I’ll make her dirty,” I admit, and I feel like a fuckin’ schoolboy, but it’s true. “I’ll soil her in some way and she’ll lose her light.”
Chapter Six
Eva
I bounce a crying toddler on my hip while Michelle throws me dagger glares from across the room, where she’
s trying to keep the rest of the Clemmie clan entertained. With three kids and both parents, it’s a full day’s workload just getting them photographed. The contract today is for a family holiday shoot and the youngest Clemmie is having a full-scale breakdown. I’m usually good with kids, Anna’s daughter loves me, but maybe that’s because I’ve been around her since she was born.
My cell buzzes and I glance at it. The toddler stops screaming to watch my cell and I sigh in relief. Even a short break is better than nothing. I hand the kid my phone and he begins pretending to talk into it. I give Michelle the thumbs up, but she’s still scowling. Moody bitch.
I leave Michelle and Kyle to it around lunchtime. They’re finishing up anyway, and the office has been unattended all morning.
I spot the hooded figure sitting in the office doorway as I approach. When he looks up and I stare into those lost blue eyes, I relax. “Did you get my text?” asks Cree, pushing himself to stand. I shake my head.
“Long story involving a toddler and entertainment. You okay?” He’s been on my mind all morning, the horror on his face when I touched him playing repeatedly.
I unlock the office and he follows me inside. He places a paper bag on my desk and sits down in my chair. “Eat,” he orders, and I eye the bag.
“I’m really not hungry.” I sigh. “You force-fed me breakfast.”
“That was hours ago. Eat.”
I pull a stool over to my desk and open the paper bag. A warm cheese bagel sits inside and I smile gratefully. It’s my favourite. “You’ve been paying attention,” I say and smile.
“Three meals a day,” he mutters. “That’s what you should eat.”
“I know, but I don’t get that hungry. Besides, I only have to look at food like this and I gain ten pounds.”
“Bullshit,” he hisses. “Three meals a day.”
I pick at the bagel. “Cree, I’m really sorry about this morning.”
“It’s fine,” he mutters. “I’m sorry I threw you off me.” We sit in silence while I finish the rest of my food. Once I’m done, he pulls a bottle of water from his jacket and unscrews the cap. “Drink,” he says.
“I’m starting to think you have an unhealthy obsession with watching me eat and drink,” I tease. “Who makes sure you eat three meals a day?”
“I know how to look after myself. I’ve been doing it a long time.” I fall silent again. He slips out little bits of information, but I get the impression he doesn’t like to be questioned. It goes against my natural nosey behaviour because I sense he has a story to tell.
To distract myself, I peek at him through my lashes. His chiselled face is always so stern, like he has serious shit on his mind. He scowls way more than he smiles. His blue eyes are dull and there’re dark circles under them. Like most of the Kings Reapers, he has tattoos. They cover his arms, his chest, and his back. He’s tall and well built. I can tell he goes to the gym regularly. If he didn’t dislike me so much, I’d probably try and work my magic on him because there’s definitely a spark between us.
“Stop staring at me,” he mutters, and I blink a few times then look away, embarrassed that he caught me. “You’re volunteering tonight.” He says it as a statement rather than a question. “Are you free after?” I shake my head and bite on my lower lip. I don’t know why guilt fills the pit of my stomach. He must sense it because he frowns and waits for me to elaborate further.
“I have a date,” I mutter.
“No, you don’t,” he says firmly and it instantly pisses me off.
“I do. I’m meeting Chris.”
Cree scoffs. “The geek?” he asks. “I’ll pick you up when you’ve finished volunteering.”
“I’m going on a date, Cree!” I repeat, and he stands, shaking his head. “I am!” I insist.
He pauses by my chair. He looks like he’s weighing up something, and then he places a finger under my chin and tips my head back to stare up at him. “I never kissed anyone before you,” he whispers. His lips lightly brush over mine. “I’ll pick you up.” I’m so stunned by his confession that I don’t respond, and then it’s too late. He’s already left.
I’m relieved when I get to the community centre and spot Emily. I’ve been desperate to speak with her about Cree, and luckily, she’s just as happy to see me. “Did you bring him back?” she asks hopefully. I shake my head. “Are you two a thing?” she adds and I laugh, shaking my head again. She looks disappointed. “He’s a great guy.”
“How do you know him, Emily?” I ask.
We take a seat on the grass overlooking the basketball court, where some of the boys are having a rough game. “He helped me, Eva. I’ve never seen anyone so brave and strong.”
“How did he help you?”
“I made a stupid choice.” She sighs. “I got sucked in by a stupid bastard. I spent weeks with him, getting to know him. He treated me so good.” She looks sad. “I really liked him. One night, I was meant to meet him, and instead, there was an older man there. He said he was picking me up on Khal’s behalf. I didn’t feel right about him. He was fat and so much older. He had greasy hair and wouldn’t stop eyeing up my tits.” She shudders. “I tried to get away, but he got rough and pushed me about. He almost had me in the car when Cree came and helped me. He picked that fat bastard up like he weighed nothing.”
“That was nice of him,” I say. “What did he do with the guy?”
Emily falls silent. “It doesn’t matter. Some will say Cree did a bad thing, but he saved me. He took me to his club. His friends cleaned me up and fed me. He took me home to my pops and gave us money for food. Since then, we get food delivered all the time. He fixed up my pops’ car for free. He’s helped us so much.”
“Why?” I ask. “Doesn’t he want something in return?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “No. He’s just a nice guy.”
Emily’s story plays on my mind, and when the centre closes at eight o’clock, I’m so lost in thought that I almost crash into Chris, who is waiting at the gates for me. I glance around. There’s no sign of Cree, which is a relief. We take a slow walk to a nearby restaurant and he fills me in on his day at work. We’re about to step inside when a familiar deep voice shouts my name. Cree stands across the street with his hood up, but I know it’s him, even though it’s dark.
“Do you know that guy?” asks Chris.
“Yeah, I do. Ignore him.”
We go inside and a waiter seats us by the window. I told Cree I wasn’t free and he has no right just turning up like that. He’s spent months being horrible to me, and yeah, he might kiss like a god, he might even resemble one, but I don’t understand what he wants from me, and until he stops being so weird, I’m going to continue on with my life.
I try my hardest to focus on Chris. He’s sweet and funny, but the shadow of Cree sitting on his bike over the road is distracting and infuriating all at the same time. Chris notices me looking over to Cree and sighs. “Eva, if you need to go and speak to that guy, go.”
I smile. He’s so understanding and nice. He’s perfect for me. “No, he’ll take the hint and leave eventually.” But Cree doesn’t leave. He remains there until he sees that we’ve paid the bill and we’re slipping on our coats. When I look up again, he’s gone. I shake my head, confused as to what that was all about.
Chris walks me home and we stop at the foot of my steps. “Do you wanna come in?” I ask.
“I don’t think that huge guy would appreciate it,” he says, nodding towards my living room window. I glance up and see Cree staring at us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl. I rush up the steps and into the house, not bothering to say goodbye to Chris. “How the fuck did you get in here?” I yell. Cree has the nerve to look pissed. His fists ball by his sides and his jaw is clenched tight. “How dare you break into my house! I’m calling the cops,” I snap as I pull my cell from my bag.
Cree rushes at me so fast that I drop the cell onto the couch. He sweeps me up against him and pushes me against
the door. His mouth battles against mine in a toe-curling kiss that ignites something deep inside me. I’m pinned by his chest and his hands hold my hands at the sides of my face. He moves his mouth hungrily down my neck, nipping gently at the skin and groaning as he presses his erection against my core.
I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the hottest fucking thing to ever happen to me. He pulls at my clothing and utters, “Less.” I shrug from my jacket and then my shirt. Cree steps back and watches. His eyes are hooded and there’s no hiding the bulge in his jeans. When I’m down to my underwear, he pulls me towards him, and before I hit against his chest, he bends me over the couch and places my hands behind my back. I frown in confusion as he binds my wrists together with a piece of rope. Where the fuck did that come from?
I forget my question when I feel his hand move down my spine, stopping over my ass and grabbing a handful of my peachy cheeks. His fingers move to my opening and I hiss when he runs them through my wetness. He grips a handful of my hair and turns my head to look at him over my shoulder. He licks his fingers clean and hums his approval. His hand goes back between my legs and he rubs circles over my clit. It’s been so long since a man last paid attention to me like this that I’m almost falling apart after a few seconds.
He pauses and I hear a packet rip. He lines himself up at my entrance and then pushes in so hard that I scream out. He holds onto the rope that binds my hands as he slams into me over and over. I feel too full and so confused. His punishing pace is uncomfortable and too unfamiliar. It’s not remotely intimate and nothing like what I’m used to. It’s a fuck—plain and simple.
He feels around for my breasts and pulls my bra down. I shudder when he gropes at me and I press myself further into the couch to avoid his wandering hands. Something doesn’t feel right. This isn’t how I imagined sex between me and Cree. Not after how he kissed me before, and not just tonight, but at the charity night too. He showed me a softness that I didn’t know he possessed. This is so far removed from that. Cree grips my waist tight and stills, then I feel him strain against me as he releases into the condom.
