Coercion

by Lux Zakari

  Valerie gave him a shove, and he pitched backward in surprise. “Fuck yourself, Michael!” She turned on her heel and marched off, disappearing in the darkness of the night.

  “Where you going? You’re gonna miss your chariot!” His heart hammered as he raked a hand through his hair and looked across the parking lot. No sight of a guy with feathered hair. He took a deep breath and followed Valerie around the corner of the building. “Seriously, what are you doing?”

  Her high-heeled shoes sounded like ice picks as she marched across the pavement, the hem of her dress gathered in her hands, giving Michael a glimpse of the backs of her bare calves. “Getting away from you,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Is that right?” Michael quickened his pace and caught up with her near a row of overflowing silver garbage cans by the back door. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him. “You know…” He pressed his body against hers and walked her backward, pinning her between him and the student union’s brick exterior. “It really pisses me off when you pretend you don’t want me.” He grabbed the fabric of her dress and tugged it upward.

  “I don’t want you!” She braced herself on his shoulders in an effort to push him away.

  “Really?” His hand wriggled between her tightly closed legs and beneath the crotch of her panties. He grinned as wetness flooded his fingers.

  “I hate you,” she said through clenched teeth, but her legs parted just enough for him to slide two fingers inside her, wringing a moan out of her mouth.

  “No.” He shook his head as his fingers continued to dip in and out of her. “You just wish you did.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because you want me to. You want me to make you feel good.”

  A transformation swept across Valerie’s face at his words. Her eyes were ablaze as her lips curled into the grimace of a gladiator. “You make me feel horrible.”

  A sharp, white-hot pain blasted through Michael’s leg as Valerie’s shoe stabbed his shin. His fingers left her body as he let out a gasp and hunched over to clutch his sore leg. “Jesus!” He gingerly rolled his pant leg to see the checkmark-shaped indent left by her heel. A trickle of blood worked its way out of the already purpling wound. He winced and quickly smoothed the fabric back down, rubbing his injury and stopping any further bleeding with two meek fingertips.

  Then he looked at Valerie, backlit by the single yellow light hanging overhead as she stood above him. Her hairstyle collapsed around her face, and her dress still bunched around her thighs, revealing those endless legs.

  She looked like a warrior goddess from a Frazetta painting. Michael couldn’t think of a time when he wanted a girl more. “What’s your problem?”

  “What do you think my problem is?” Her nose flared as she matched his stare, a million different emotions playing across her face. “Were you seriously just going to fuck me surrounded by piles of rotting garbage after blowing me off?”

  Michael’s lips parted as if to speak, but said nothing. He realized there wasn’t anything he had to say.

  “What do you want with me?” Valerie continued, her tone shrill. “Why me? Why do you do this to me? That’s all I need from you, that’s all I need to know. Tell me why you think it’s fun and acceptable to torment me like this.”

  A dry wheeze squeaked out of his still open mouth. A strange fear prickled his skin at this unfamiliar, upsetting outburst. He realized then he had no answers for her, nothing that he was sure of himself. His eyebrows rose and his shoulders lifted slowly in a tentative response.

  Valerie’s mouth twisted as she reared back and delivered another no-holds-barred kick, this one right to his knee. Michael’s breath left him in a rush as a second onslaught of agony exploded through his body and he fell backward, blinded by pain. He took a brimming trashcan with him as he toppled to the ground. The can let out a metallic screech into the otherwise peaceful night as it scraped the cement.

  “Val?” shouted someone—likely Valerie’s date—from around the corner. “Where are you?”

  “Back here!” Valerie called with an exuberant burst of cheerfulness. “But don’t worry. I’m coming.”

  Michael rose on his elbows and watched, paralyzed with surprise, as she stepped closer to him.

  She bent and, with her lips hovering inches away from his, whispered, “Don’t ever come near me again.” Then she stood, smoothed her dress down as best she could and walked away. He listened as the clack of her shoes on the wet, gritty pavement faded away.

  The pain in Michael’s leg ebbed to a dull throb, but hot tears stung his eyes. He pushed himself into a sitting position, a few pebbles biting into his palms, which were slick with a sour-smelling salad dressing that had sloshed out of the fallen trashcan and spattered the ground. Across from him, a sprung mousetrap hugged the side of the building and contained a rodent’s withered corpse. He wiped his hands on his thighs, trying to swallow the knot clogging his throat. A panic crept through him, and he couldn’t say why.

  * * * *

  “Val?” Daniel’s forehead wrinkled with concern as she emerged from around the side of the building, her dress rumpled and her hair like a slightly coiffed lion’s mane. He sucked on the side of his bottom lip. “Is everything okay? What were you doing back—”

  Valerie’s arms curled around his shoulders as she rose on tiptoe and pressed her mouth against his. Surprised, Daniel held his breath as he closed his eyes. His whole body felt both numb and alive, and his world was consumed with only the awareness that her soft, warm lips and her orange-grove scent were obliterating the rest of his senses.

  The kiss was brief but she drew away from him slowly, dropping back on her heels. His eyes creaked open, the foggy feeling in his head lingering, though he was once again becoming aware of the other students milling around, waiting for rides and returning to their cars. He swallowed and wet his lips, which felt like they now belonged to someone else. “What was that for?”

  “It wasn’t for anything.” Valerie clasped one of his hands between hers and pressed it to her chest. She looked at him with a strange smile on her face. “I just wanted to.” Her voice faltered, and she cleared her throat. “I’m having a wonderful time tonight, here, with you.”

  Fighting off what he was sure was an idiotic grin, Daniel lowered his head to kiss Valerie’s fingers, still curled around his own. “Come along, m’lady.” He swept some of her mussed hair off her face with his free hand and nodded to his car, parked in front of the student union. “The night’s still young. Don’t be giving out goodbye kisses yet.”

  “Believe me, I’m just getting started.”

  * * * *

  Michael shouldered his way across the crowded patio through the throngs of formally dressed people at the after-party, his head pulsing in time to the Bonham drum solo blasting from the stereo speaker balanced in the window. The number of partygoers and their high intoxication levels made it easy for him to disguise his bloodied pant leg and his newly acquired limp. Even Breeze hadn’t noticed he was injured when he’d returned to her at the dance. Then again, she’d been sitting in Rooney’s lap, both of them tittering as they finished the contents of Rooney’s flask.

  He stopped in the middle of the patio and wiped his hot face with his hands. He’d barely seen Breeze since they’d arrived at the party. Where was she now? It seemed to be his most frequently asked question, which was always met with a multitude of unpleasant answers.

  Michael pressed his fingertips to his eyelids and tried to take a few deep breaths, but instead of calming down, he felt more stricken by the urge to act, to get in his truck and drive toward something that made sense. He had no idea what that something was, which only made his apprehension escalate.

  He plowed his way into the house and upstairs, needing to lie down, smoke a joint and hopefully pass out. The sooner morning came, the sooner the horrible feelings would surely subside. He swung open the nearest bedroom door, prepared
to kick whoever was in there out, and froze when he saw Breeze and Rooney entangled on the bed.

  Breeze sat on the edge of the mattress, Rooney looming over her between her splayed legs. Both her skirt and the top of her halter dress gathered around her waist as Rooney’s right hand explored the smooth span of her upper thigh, his left kneading her breast. Rooney’s mouth devoured Breeze’s as her hand disappeared inside the zipper teeth of his pants.

  Michael’s stunned feeling was instantaneous but to his surprise, it was almost immediately replaced not with anger or hurt, but a deep, powerful depression weakening his legs. He couldn’t feel anything else.

  He stepped in the room and shut the door behind him, and Breeze and Rooney looked up. Breeze scrunched up her nose and winced as she drew away from Rooney and pulled her top upward, modestly covering her breasts. “It’s Michael,” she said unnecessarily, as if she were hoping someone would correct her.

  Rooney leaped off Breeze like she was suddenly made of hellfire and staggered backward, slamming into the closet door, which rattled at the violent, unexpected weight. “I’m so sorry, man.” His eyes widened, wild with fear. “I’m so sorry. I don’t—I mean, I don’t…”

  Michael ignored his friend and dragged himself to the bed, where he sank on the mattress beside Breeze, who watched him with suspicion and confusion. He glanced at her and gave her top a tug, exposing her breasts once more. “We’ve all seen them.”

  “Michael!” Breeze crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t be so rude.”

  He laughed at her request considering the circumstances. He felt if he didn’t, he would start crying. Breeze continued to stare at him as if he’d just fled the nearest asylum.

  Rooney zipped his pants with clumsy fingers. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, near tears. His whole body shook, racked with nerves. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a drunk, stupid mistake. I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, man.”

  Michael stopped laughing, and his shoulders slumped as he leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “We all know it wasn’t a mistake.”

  Rooney froze, looking from Michael to Breeze and back again. He licked his lips and clamped down on them so hard his entire mouth seemed to disappear. “I’m sorry.” He stumbled out of the room, closing the door as he left.

  Michael and Breeze sat side by side, listening to the muffled sounds of the party downstairs seep through the door. Finally, Breeze let out an edgy sigh. “Look, I’m sure you’re pissed at me, so grow up and just say so instead of sitting there giving me the silent treatment.”

  “I’m not pissed at you.” Michael knew it was the truth.

  “Don’t tell me you’re pissed at Rooney. You guys are friends. Just because he’s been in love with me forever doesn’t mean you should hate him.”

  “I don’t hate him.”

  Breeze bounced on the bed. “Then what? I’m sorry this happened. I don’t know what to tell you. We both had too much to drink, and forgive me if I don’t consider you to be the safest bet.”

  Michael straightened and faced Breeze. Her hair looked pale blue in the moonlight sneaking in the window, and her face, although set with defiance as if ready for battle, was feminine and almost fairylike. He touched her cheek and leaned toward her, pressing his lips to hers.

  He could feel her whole body yield just from the way she kissed. Breeze opened her mouth, letting his tongue sneak inside, and moaned. She dropped her arms away from her chest and cupped his face in her hands, giving him free rein of her breasts, which he readily took. Then she drew away from their kiss and tilted her head back, and his lips traveled up the side of her neck as she let out another whimper.

  “This is different,” she said with a needy sigh.

  “Is it?” he asked between kisses.

  “Yes.” Breeze’s laugh turned into a whimper as Michael’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of her earlobe. “Usually the makeup sex doesn’t come until after the screaming match.”

  “I told you, I’m not mad.” Michael’s fingertips grazed a circular pattern around her nipple.

  Breeze pulled away from him, worry evident in her eyes. “You really aren’t?” Her tone was no longer flirtatious, but small and filled with trepidation.

  He moved toward her again and kissed a path along her jaw. “I’m really not.”

  She fell silent as her hands wove through his hair, and his mouth made its way back to her now stiff lips. She responded, her kisses sloppy and distracted. Michael stood, grabbed Breeze by the wrists and tugged her to her feet. “Do you want us to stop?”

  Breeze looked at him with a sadness he was sure matched his own. Still, she shook her hair out of her face and flashed him a brilliant smile. “Of course I don’t.”

  Michael accepted the false bravado in her voice, and his mouth was on hers in an instant. She again tangled her fingers in his hair, and her legs went around his waist. He winced at the sudden extra weight inflicted upon his injured leg but gritted his teeth and maneuvered them so she was trapped between him and the closet door.

  “Poor Rooney,” Breeze murmured as Michael’s mouth dropped to her neck. “He’s probably wondering what happened to us.” Her whisper sounded more like a moan as Michael licked a path from her throat to her ear.

  “He’ll figure it out—” His hands dug into her hips. “—when you come back looking like you had the best sex in your life.” With that, he felt the wetness between her legs and yanked aside the crotch of her panties with such force the thin fabric tore. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She silenced any further conversation with a kiss. One of her arms remained wrapped around his neck as her other hand dropped to his belt, which she quickly unbuckled. Michael was momentarily stunned by her passion and intensity compared to her reluctance just moments ago, but as she pulled out his cock and stroked him up and down, he decided he couldn’t care less.

  He chose not to waste a single moment more. His lips still crushed against hers, he moved her hand away from his shaft and hitched her hips farther around his waist. Ignoring the agony of his bruising leg, he steered into her with one fluid stroke.

  Her face contorted into a silent cry, and her fingertips dug into his scalp as he plunged into her. “Oh God, Michael,” she choked out in a high-pitched whisper.

  “Did you miss this?” He gripped her bare thighs, her legs still locked around him by the ankles. He could feel the familiar feeling start to curl and tingle in his spine; he was getting close.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “Oh God, I love this. I love you, Michael. I love you.”

  His stomach dropped at her words, even though he’d been craving to hear them for months. He didn’t reply. His grip on her grew tighter and he drove himself into her, filling her to the hilt. Michael let out one final groan as he came, his whole body convulsing in one shudder. She followed suit, her teeth digging into his shoulder, and he tried not to cry out.

  Chapter 10

  Friday

  May 9, 1975

  Valerie placed her plush unicorn into a cardboard box with care. “I think that’s the last of it.”

  “Oh, please.” Shannon swooped in like a bird of prey and snatched up the stuffed toy, which she held by its front legs and turned so it faced Valerie. “You’re not seriously bringing this with you to St. Louis, are you?” She made the plaything’s hooves kick helplessly with her every word.

  “That’s Sparkles.” Valerie grabbed the plush toy from her friend and gave it a protective squeeze. “It’s the unicorn I’ve had since forever.”

  “It’s the unicorn that’s going to destroy your sex life.” Shannon groaned as Valerie lovingly tucked the stuffed horse back into the box. “At this rate, you’re going to have to find a boy who likes you for who you really are.”

  “Imagine that,” Valerie said with a wink.

  Shannon fell back on Valerie’s bed. “This is so weird. Our college career has come to an end. Now we have to go out in the real world and be
grownups.”

  “I know. Everything’s going to be so different.”

  “I’m sort of worried.” Shannon nipped at her lower lip. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ll really be apart since grade school? You’ll be in St. Louis, I’ll be at Lee’s Summit and we’ll probably never be friends again.”

  Valerie collapsed on top of her friend and enveloped her in a giant hug. “Never gonna happen. You mean far too much to me for us to ever lose touch completely. I’ll always want to be a part of your life.”

  “Don’t go getting all mushy on me.” Shannon’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she blinked them away and smiled. “Just think about all the guys we’ll meet now that we’re leaving Kenton. We’ll be around a whole new breed instead of the same losers we’ve seen for the past four years in this boring town.”

  Valerie wagged a finger in her friend’s direction. “Have I ever told you how sorry I feel for Rick?”

  Shannon laughed. “Don’t worry about him. I’m not making any hasty decisions. I’m just keeping my options open.” She threw a pillow at Valerie. “And what about you? Aren’t you leaving Daniel alone in the lurch?”

  Valerie blushed. “I’m doing no such thing.”

  “Talk about guys we feel sorry for.” Shannon clucked her tongue. “He’s waited all this time to finally win your heart and just as he’s done it, you’re leaving town.”

  “We were never anything official.” Valerie pushed herself off the mattress and kneeled by the stack of boxes in the middle of her floor. “And since I’m leaving so soon after graduation, we decided to keep it that way.”

  “Is that regret I hear in your voice?”

  “It might be.” Valerie’s mouth curved into a rueful smile as she folded a box closed. “I just wish I’d known everything I do now about nine months ago.” She sighed. “At any rate, nothing’s hopeless. If we’re meant to be, we’ll figure out what to do.”