by Bella King
Standing in front of Amber and slightly off to one side is a large man, much older than I am, with a bald head and two beefy arms full of prison tattoos. He’s the one who pulled me away from her, and his hunched stance warns me that he’s coming after Amber.
At first, I have no idea who this man is, but then it dawns on me as I hear the shrill chirp of Edyth’s voice behind me. “Bring her to me,” she barks, and I know in that moment that her brother, the dense pile of pure stupidity and violence, Mike, is out of prison and already back to do Edyth’s bidding.
Mike reaches out with his thick arm, grabbing the disheveled Amber by the front of her shirt. He yanks her toward him, tearing the fabric in a humiliating fashion and revealing her misplaced bra. Her breasts are nearly falling out of it.
I feel a surge of hatred which powers the jump to my feet. I’m still rolling off the adrenaline of beating the shit out of Dean and making out with Amber, so it’s easy for me to get going again. Mike may be huge, but I can guarantee that I’m angrier than he is. Mike has no reason to be, and I have all the reasons in the world to feel hatred.
I turn my head, looking back toward Edyth to make sure she’s not close enough to stop me from taking possession of Amber again. Edyth is standing with her arms crossed, and there are three girls from the cheer squad with her. They all have knives in their hands, and they look ready to use them.
What the fuck is wrong with these people? There are hundreds of witnesses at the trailer park and they can be damn sure someone is going to call the cops if the cheerleaders decide to start swiping at us with knives. They have to be out of their damn minds to be doing this.
It’s insanity.
For me, self-preservation is out the window. My only focus is on saving Amber. Mike is large enough to keep her under his control, but I have no idea what they plan to do to her. I wouldn’t put it past Mike to do something horribly illegal since he’s already been to jail once before. He doesn’t have any sort of moral compass, if Edyth is any indication.
I charge toward Mike, hitting him in the back and knocking him forward onto Amber. She falls with him but goes off to the side enough not to be crushed by his massive body. People think I’m big, and I am, but Mike is enormous. He’s like dollar-store sumo wrestler, only angrier and much dumber.
“Get them,” Edyth commands from behind me.
I don’t have any time to lose. With Mike down, I’m able to pull Amber to her feet so that we can make a run for it. We won’t be able to fight off Edyth’s lunatic cheer squad because they have knives, but we might be able to outrun them. It’s our only chance to escape becoming minced meat.
“Run,” I shout to Amber as I yank her along with me. I can already hear the rapid footsteps of the cheerleaders behind us and I can practically feel the blades in my back. I push Amber in front of me, trying to get her to safety.
Heads at the trailer park turn as Amber scrambles ahead of me, kicking up dust beside Blake’s trailer as she zooms past it. She’s a fast runner, but the cheerleaders are fit. They train daily, and I’m sure that they’ll be able to catch up to us. That leaves me with a decision to make. I can divorce myself from this horrid scene, leaving Amber to face her bullies, or I could play the hero and face them for her.
The choice would be obvious to someone of pure intent. I believe anyone with half a heart would try to fend off the crazed cheerleaders instead of running away, but I’m not so pure. My life has been one fucked up thing after another, and things were actually going smoothly until Amber came along. What do I owe her when she’s done nothing for me?
But even with the devil sitting front and center in my mind, when I look up at Amber, running for her life, I feel nothing but protective instincts, as though her life were far more important than my own. Perhaps it is, after all. The pretty rich girl will always be seen as the good one, while the dirty poor trailer trash will be spit on and looked down upon for his whole life. What good am I, really?
I dig my heels into the soil, stopping myself with such abruptness that the cheerleaders are unable to react to my sudden halt. They stagger toward me as Amber runs away, thrown off guard by my turnaround. They don’t know what to do, and that gives me the advantage I need to spin this situation in my favor.
Chapter Twenty
Amber
God, where the fuck is Flint?
I though he was behind me, but he has disappeared. I don’t see the cheerleaders either, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to rest. I’ve been running like a madwoman all afternoon and my legs are begging me to take a rest, but I know that I can’t. This party was a bad decision, and trusting Flint was an even worse one.
I’m going to get myself killed if I don’t leave this town. I need to go home, apologize to my mother, and beg her to leave this place. Everyone is out to get me, and even if Flint helped me get away from the cheer squad and that awful man that grabbed me, he’s also the one that got me into this mess in the first place.
I run to the very end of the trailer park, expecting an exit onto the road. Unfortunately, there is none. There’s only a turnaround spot with a few junk cars parked across it like it’s a dump zone for trash metal. This place is a nightmare that I’ve been sucked into, and the only escape is the same way I came in. Sadly, that means I’ll have to face Edyth and her goons again.
I turn around, leaning down and placing my hands on my knees while I catch my breath. I use one hand to pull my shirt back into place. My nipples are like diamonds, confused about constantly bouncing back and forth between mortal terror and intense arousal. I’d just like to get a break from it all.
Well, it seems as though I’m not going to be able to catch a break today, because just as I feel like I’m able to run again, the enormous man that grabbed me before comes bursting out from around one of the trailers to my left and barrels toward me like a football quarterback.
With such momentum, he won’t be able to slow down before he runs me over like a pancake. My best bet is to jump out of the way before he gets to me, allowing him to rush past like an angry bull. I bide my time, waiting until the last possible second before executing my plan. I jump to the right as he gets to me, and I feel a heavy gust of sweat-scented wind blow past me as he nearly hits me. I’m just out of harm’s way.
I can thank my lucky stars that I’m so small and agile, but now isn’t the time for gratitude. It’s time to continue running so that I can escape this dump into freedom. I’ve had enough of life in the trailer park and I’m going to leave, even if that means losing Flint in the process. Sometimes, you have to leave good things behind if you want to better your life.
I’m just disappointed that Flint and I never amounted to anything more than frenemies.
I rush back to where Flint disappeared, only to find him still there, fighting off three girls with knives clutched in their small fists. He’s jumped and dodging them as they take swipes at him, and a stream of blood is running from his wrist to his elbow. He’s a big trouble.
I suddenly feel rotten for even having thoughts of leaving him here. He’s in just as much of a poor situation as I am, and I’d only be proving his initial opinions of me true if I abandoned him. I’m not a spoiled rich girl, at least not anymore. I’m going to help him because he needs me, and we’re going to put a stop to this senseless bullying.
“Stop it,” I yell as I jog up to the girls and Flint.
Flint looks back at me, only for one of the girls to see an opening and take a jab at him. He jumps back just in time, but it was close. It appears as though he already suffers several gashes on his right arm. This could get very nasty if nobody does anything to stop it.
Edyth cackles from just outside the grouping of girls as they continue to fight with Flint. Her face is contorted in a sicken expression of childish amusement as she witnesses Flint being attacked by her forces. She’s the human embodiment of evil.
Something deep inside me tells me that I have to act now. I reach up to my neck, yanking
at the angel pendant to snap the chain. It’s like I’m possessed by some unearthly force as I run toward Edyth with the angel swinging from the chain in my hand.
“Get away from me, freak,” she hisses, but I don’t listen. Her eyes grow wide as I swing the angel at her, smacking her in the face with the warm metal. It leaves a gash in her cheek, a much more impressive result than I thought I would get.
“What the fuck,” she screeches, bring both hands to her face and leaning over as blood begins to trickle from her face.
“Fuck you,” I growl, throwing my leg out and kicking her in the shoulder, easily knocking her backward onto the ground.
The girls who were attacked Flint see me battering Edyth, and I suppose they get scared with their leader down. They rush from the scene, scattering like the weak women they are. They’re nothing without an evil overlord, and theirs is laying in the sparse grass, bleeding from her face as I tower over her. The gig is up.
Except, it isn’t.
I can hear sirens from the police as they approach the trailer park. Blake is to the left, scrambling to gather his alcohol and take it inside, and people are starting to run from the park so as not to get caught with their weed, beer, and whatever else they have that the police will have reason to arrest them for.
Flint runs up behind me, putting a hand that’s wet with hot crimson blood on my shoulder while breathing heavily. I turn, placing my hand on his and looking up into his hazel eyes. “It’s over, Flint. We need to get out of here.”
“But where’s Mike?” he asks.
“Mike?”
“Edyth’s brother.”
“Shit,” I exclaim, turning in the direction I came from, but my alarm turns to amusement as I witness Mike trying to hop over the shaky metal fence bordering the trailer park. I guess the sound of sirens spooked him.
Flint laughs, watching the beefy man attempt to get over the fence. As much as I’d like to stay and watch, I don’t think it’s wise to remain at the trailer park with the police arriving. Flint and I have to go, but I’m not sure where we should go. Home?
“Come on,” I say, taking Flint’s bloody hand and leading him out of the trailer park. We dash across the road together as the sirens grow louder, leaving Edyth behind. The cops can deal with that bitch. I’m through with her.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” I say to Flint once we’re safely across the street.
Flint looks at his arm, allowing blood to drip down onto the dirt road at his feet. He seems fascinated by his own blood, but there is no fear or concern in his eyes like there is in mine. He genuinely seems unbothered by his injury. “I don’t need a doctor. I just need a bandage or something.”
I groan. “Fine, then you’re coming home with me.”
Flint shrugs. It shocks me how unmoved he is by the incredibly dangerous situation we were just in, but I don’t know what trouble he has been involved with in his past. This could be another day at Blackstone for all I know. He’s been here his whole life. For me, it’s only been a few months. Our experiences are vastly different.
With blood dripping from his arm, Flint takes my hand and allows me to lead him down the dirt path to my trailer. I’m sure my mom is still home, just about as angry as she can be, but Flint’s condition supersedes the dread I feel at the thought of facing her again. I’m sure she isn’t so heartless as to deny Flint sanctuary while he gets bandaged up.
I take the stairs to the front door slowly, counting the crumbling concrete steps as I go. Flint is behind me, deathly silent. I wonder if he’s in shock or just nervous about coming to my trailer. I believe that both of us were expecting something different this evening, but life has a way of fucking with me.
I take a deep breath and pull the screen door open, stepping into the dim interior with Flint at my heels. “Mom?” I call out, half hoping that she won’t be home. Of course, with the door already partially open, I doubt that she has gone anywhere.
My mother appears from around the corner with a pot in one hand and a dishrag in the other. She frowns when she looks at me, probably from my torn and skimpy outfit, but her face softens a touch when she looks at Flint. She probably doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of a stranger. I’m sure she’ll give me the full scolding once Flint has left.
“Where on earth have you been?” she asks, keeping her distance.
“Flint got injured so I need to help him get bandaged up,” I reply, pointing at Flint’s bloody arm.
Flint makes an odd face, like he’s suddenly become a mega-introvert at the sight of my mother. He never was especially outspoken, but he has shut up like a clam recently. I have reason to suspect that he’s all out of insults and he doesn’t know how to talk nicely, so he’s just kept quiet once he realized that I wasn’t trying to ruin his life. Smart move if he ever wants things to be good between us.
My mother’s eyes grow large at the sight of Flint dripping blood on the hallway floor. “Get him in the bathroom before he bleeds out. My goodness, what have you two been doing out there?”
I lead Flint forward, brushing past my mother on the way to the hallway bathroom. “It’s a long story.”
“And I’m going to hear all about it when I get back from the grocery store,” she replies. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“You’re leaving?” I ask, shoving Flint into the bathroom and turning around to face her.
“I have to get more dishwashing detergent,” she says, holding up the pot in her hand.
I nod. “Okay, I should still be here when you get back.”
“You’d better be,” she says, shaking her head.
“Totally,” I reply before turning back around and entering the bathroom with Flint. I have no idea where I’m going to be an hour from now, but I’ll play along to keep my mother happy for the time being. My number one priority is to make sure that Flint gets bandaged up, and then I’ll deal with the rest of the problems that have piled up in my life later.
Chapter Twenty-One
Flint
It’s strange being inside of a trailer again. I haven’t had access to a clean bathroom in what feels like ages. It’s a tough life on the streets, and I’m pretty sick of having to use public bathrooms at Blackstone High. They aren’t available on the weekends either, which poses its own array of problems.
“Alright,” Amber says, turning away from the door to face me once she closes and locks it. “Let me see your arm.”
I sit down on the toilet, holding out my wounded arm for her to examine. There are three gashes on it from the cheerleader’s knives, but the bleeding makes them look worse than they really are. They’re clean cuts, and I can barely feel them.
“Jesus, they really got you good,” Amber says, her bright blue eyes watering up at the sight of my arm. It’s endearing that she’s so concerned about me, but she shouldn’t be. I’m a man. I can handle myself.
“It’s nothing major, really,” I assure her.
“Yeah right,” she mutters, shaking her head. “I think we have something up here,” she says, standing up straight and turning to the mirror cabinet above the sink.
She gets on her toes to look at the top self, and I glimpse the delicate lace that decorates her smooth ass. As crazy as this evening has been, I’m still just as horny as I’ve ever been for Amber. I wonder if she’s still in the mood.
“Found it,” she announces triumphantly, turning around and holding a roll of white bandages up in her hand.
I divert my eyes, pretending to have been looking anywhere but her ass. Maybe she knows that I was looking, or maybe she doesn’t. Either way, she doesn’t make note of it, and happily unfurls the tight roll of bandages in front of me.
“Give me your arm,” she says. “We need to clean it first.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agree, looking at the blood starting to clot all over my skin. Droplets of deep red, turning rusty brown, cling to the hair on my arm.
Amber pulls a bottle of hydrogen-peroxide out of the cabi
net and shakes it. “This is going to sting.”
I wrinkle my nose at the brown bottle, knowing the painful experience of pouring that shit over an open wound. It’s not going to be pleasant with so many deep cuts, but it’s probably for the best. I’d rather not get an infection from those shitty knives that the cheerleaders used. There’s no telling where they’ve been.
“Mind if I smoke?” I ask, pulling a tin box full of tightly rolled joints out of my back pocket.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Amber says, unscrewing the lid to the bottle.
My jaw tightens, but I slip the tin full of joints back into my pocket. Now is as good a time as any to quit, I suppose. I’ve never had a reason not to smoke until now.
“Hold still. This is going to hurt,” Amber says, bringing the bottle of peroxide to my arm and holding a towel beneath it.
I grind my teeth, taking a sharp breath in and tasting the sourness of peroxide as it splashes against my wounds. It fizzes on the surface of my skin in a pile of pinkish bubbles, splattering tiny specks up into my face as it sizzles any bacteria in and around my wound into the afterlife. I’m thankful for it, but it hurts like a bitch.
Amber watches my arm until the fizzing stops, them wipes it down with a sterile cloth. Once she’s satisfied with her work, she wraps the bandage around my arm. As she leans down, I can smell her sweet floral perfume again. I feel relaxed with her so close to me. She makes me feel like no matter what happens, I’m in good hands. It’s dangerously alluring, and I’ve already slipped so deep into it that I wonder if I would ever be able to crawl out.
I doubt it.
“There,” Amber says, stepping back and placing her hands on her hips. She admires her work, smiling brightly from above me.
