“Brooke, fuck,” Anthony says. “That’s so good. You look so sexy like that.”
His eyes are so dark and turned on that I want to swim in them forever. I stop the motion of my hand, and then take Anthony’s cock in my mouth, leaving one hand around him and anchoring his hips with the other. I don't bother with slow or light now, going all-out, reveling in the devastatingly hot sounds he makes as I do, the gasps and moans I’m sure will burn into my brain. I keep going, letting him buck his hips up into my hands and my mouth.
I don’t stop until he puts a hand on my shoulder to still me.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me up and kissing me. He’s still rock hard. I can feel his cock pressed against my leg as we kiss. “I want you.”
“I want you,” I say back. “I need you to fuck me.”
“After you,” Anthony says, gesturing to my bed. I feel shaky as I walk. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet and turned on in my life, and I’ve already come once tonight. I lie back in bed and Anthony crawls over me, smiling as he does.
Anthony runs his hands over me again, teasing my stomach and thighs, and I think could come again just from the pressure. I might if Anthony isn’t inside me soon, fucking me.
“Please,” I say, kissing Anthony again. He gives me a smile that makes my breath catch, and then he’s sliding inside me, deep and hard. I feel like I’m falling apart from the first roll of Anthony’s hips. He’s already hitting spots inside me that no one ever has before, and I never want him to stop. I fall back with him against the bed, and I try to keep my eyes open, to look at the way Anthony is looking at me, to hold onto this moment.
I’m covered in sweat, and I feel helpless to the delicious motion of Anthony’s hips, to being fucked like this, to the blinding heat and feeling that hits from my fingers to my toes with every thrust Anthony makes. I cry out, feeling amazing.
I’ve never felt so close to someone while having sex – never really knew what that would be like. Now, I feel like Anthony and I are moving together like we’re one. When he moves a hand to rub circles on my clit while he fucks me, creating a back-and-forth that has my head spinning, it’s so good. It’s so beyond good that I think I’m floating. I’m so high that I think I’ll never come down.
It makes me feel like I’m Anthony’s – like we belong to each other. I could stay here and do this over and over, forever.
Anthony speeds up and then asks, “Ready to come for me?” He speeds up his fingers, pressing them just right over my soaking clit and making me explode, just as I feel Anthony shudder and come inside me. My mind melts and all I can feel is Anthony. The intense orgasm rocks my whole body.
Anthony pulls out of me and lays beside me. I bury myself in his strong chest, breathing hard and never wanting to move again.
Chapter Twelve - Anthony
I wake up in the least comfortable bed I’ve slept in a long time. The mattress is lumpier and the sheets are cheaper than the ones I had in grad school. I don’t care because I’m also waking up happier than I have in a long time. Waking up next to Brooke feels like the best, most natural thing in the world. She’s nestled into my chest, still asleep under my arm, and she looks beautiful and soft and perfect. Last night was amazing, and all I want to do is touch her and taste her again. I want to feel what it’s like to be inside her like that again, feel her come around me. I want to have sex with her in every single way. I want to do nothing but spend days in bed with her. I want her to be naked and happy and mine.
I’m used to sleeping with someone and then immediately thinking about who my next gorgeous conquest will be. With Brooke, all I can do is think that I want more of her. So much more of her. She stirs under me and blinks, squinting her eyes at me and then smiling.
“Good morning,” I say, kissing her forehead. She looks beautiful, even here with her hair messy and in her eyes.
“Morning,” she says. She puts a hand on my chest, over my heart, like she’s checking that I’m real.
“Have I told you,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ear, “that I really missed you? I think I missed you more than I even knew.”
“I missed you too,” Brooke says, folding into my touch and swallowing, hard.
“I can’t believe we went so long without doing that,” I say, laughing. Brooke laughs, too.
“Would have been a little hard to do when you were gone,” Brooke says, sounding a little sad. I’m about to reply, to tell her we can make up for lost time now, when her doorbell rings and startles us both. Brooke bolts up and grabs a robe, tying it around herself tightly and heading for her front door.
I pull my phone off her nightstand, texting my mom to thank her again for staying with David last night. I know I’ll have to answer questions about it later, but all of me is sure it was worth it. I head for the bathroom to wash off and brush my teeth. I’m hoping whoever is at the door doesn’t take too long. I want Brooke again. I want to repeat last night. I’m already turned on and half hard just thinking about fucking her again.
I’m thinking about the way her skin had felt under my hands, the way she’d responded to my touch, when I hear the voices from her door. They’re raised and angry. There’s a man’s voice, and it sounds like he’s yelling at Brooke, maybe threatening her. Brooke sounds angry too – angry and possibly a little scared. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but their tones worry me. The door slams a few seconds later, and I step back into the bedroom.
Brooke’s face looks pale. Her eyes are wide, and her hands are shaking. I grab her hands and take one of them, holding it in mine.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Brooke shakes her head rapidly.
“Nothing,” she says. I frown, sure something is wrong.
“I heard yelling, and you look really shaken,” I say. I reach for Brooke’s face, tilting her chin, but she won’t meet my eyes.
“I’m fine,” she says, looking at her own knees as she talks. “It was nothing.”
“It seems like it was something pretty serious,” I say. Brooke’s hands are still shaking in mine like she can’t control it.
“Really, it’s nothing,” she says.
“Brooke, come on,” I say gently, “Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she says, pulling her hand out of mine and shaking her head again.
“I can tell that there is,” I insist.
“You’re wrong,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. I run my hand down her arm, hoping the touch helps.
“Let me help you,” I say. Whoever had been threatening Brooke at the door had sounded pretty serious about it. I hate the thought of anyone talking to Brooke like that. I think of the day I’d first called her and she’d yelled at me to go to hell, saying she thought I was someone else. I think of the tired and stressed look she has at times. If it is all connected, then it seems like it is all part of some huge problem she’s keeping from me.
“I don’t need help,” Brooke says, pulling away further and standing up. “I need to go take a shower. Excuse me.”
She darts into her bathroom before I can say anything else. I lay back on the bed, frustrated and feeling like something is very, very wrong. I hear the shower start and consider leaving, but I decide that Brooke is too important. She might not want my help right now, but I can do more being here than I can if I leave.
I head into her small kitchen and find her coffee, starting a pot for us, thinking she might want it when she gets out of the shower. She doesn’t have much else in the way of food, but I fry up a few eggs too. I’m not much of a cook, but there are several things I can make very well. I fed myself when I was single. Women have always loved my cooking and said it was a turn-on, but it’s also something fun to do with David now that he’s old enough to help.
I hope the coffee and breakfast make Brooke feel like she can trust me with whatever is going on.
Chapter Thirteen - Brooke
I stand in the shower for as long as possible, until all of my hot water turns
cold. I want to cleanse the thought of Jeff and his threats 0ff of my skin. I don’t want Anthony to hear me cry. I cry until I feel sick with it, shaking and gagging. Jeff’s visit had left me feeling terrified and unsure of what to do. Worse, it had interrupted my morning with Anthony. I’d been so happy. I’d felt light and floating, and then Jeff had ruined it all. He’d burst my bubble and reminded me that I wasn’t safe, that Autumn wasn’t, and that I was carrying huge secrets.
I hated lying to Anthony, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I didn’t want him to know about any of it. That I’d ever dated anyone as awful as Jeff, that Autumn and I had been attacked, that Autumn carried a gun because she’d been assaulted a few years ago, that she had used it that night, that we’d watched a man die, that Jeff was stalking me now, that this small town he’d brought his son to for safety and stability was full of such ugly and terrible things.
I cry for myself, for Autumn and all she’s been through, for Anthony and Michelle and David, for all things I don’t normally let myself cry about. I cry like I haven’t since that night itself. Since I’d been lying on the floor, terrified that a giant man was about to choke the breath out of my baby sister and take her from me forever. I cry until I feel like my skin is tingling and my brain is crawling.
There is no way I can get that money. Jeff made it very clear that I didn’t have a choice. He was going to the police if he didn’t give him his money. It’s impossible, though. He knows it is, I think. Jeff knows what kind of money I make and that I don’t have any way to get some like that. I’m half tempted to tell him to just do it – to just turn me in and let things run their course. If I actually thought it would help Autumn, I might, but I’m sure that as soon as the police examine the forensics, it would point back to her and we’d both be sitting in jail. I have to protect her.
I shake my head, stepping out of the shower and thinking. It’s not as true anymore, I realize. I wouldn’t just let Jeff put me in jail if I thought it would protect Autumn. Not with Anthony back. Not when it feels like we’re starting something really wonderful. I need to protect Autumn, and I also need to protect myself and all the things that are beginning to feel possible.
I have to end this. I have to make Jeff stop. I have to put an end to his intense and increasingly violent threats once and for all. In the kitchen, I can hear Anthony moving around. His car is still parked out front, and I know it is probably worth more than my entire apartment building. Maybe there is a way I can get the money and get Jeff out of my life. Maybe I can keep Autumn, and myself, safe.
I get dressed and head out to the kitchen. Anthony has made coffee and eggs and is sitting at the table on his phone when I come in. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I’m about to ask. I hope he doesn’t hate me for it.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he says back. “Coffee?”
“Thank you,” I say, sitting down and gratefully taking the cup from him. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“It’s just coffee and eggs,” Anthony says, smiling. He’s put his pants from last night back on, and he’s just wearing an undershirt with them. It clings to his chest, to those muscles I’d buried myself in last night. They made me feel so safe. He’s watching me closely like he’s waiting for me to speak.
“I think there might be a way you can help me,” I say, trying not to wince. It’s not wrong to ask your oldest and best friend in the world for a loan, I tell myself. Friends borrow money from friends all the time. Anthony has more money than I even know how to comprehend: billions of dollars, so there’s no harm. I can’t quite convince myself it’s true, but I tell it to myself anyway.
“What do you need?” he asks, sitting up straighter like he’s ready to spring into action. Looking at Anthony here in my kitchen, I understand what I’d ever seen in Jeff even less. Anthony is such a good man. He genuinely cares about me, his son, his mom, and the important people in his life in a way I’m not sure someone like Jeff is even capable of.
“Fifty thousand dollars,” I say in a rush – before I can talk myself out of asking. Anthony frowns.
“What?” he asks. He sounds troubled, or maybe even hurt, and I feel terrible, but I ask again. This has to end.
“Fifty thousand dollars,” I repeat, “I’ll pay you back. I promise I will, but I need it. Now. Please, Anthony.”
“Why? Are you in trouble?” he asks, still frowning.
“I can’t tell you, but if you can give me fifty thousand, it will be over, for good,” I say. I know it’s an unfair position to put Anthony in, and for all I know right now he’s thinking that everything that’s happened between us since he’s been back has been me using him for his money. Maybe he’ll never forgive me, but I don’t know what else to do. I have to do this.
“If something dangerous is happening,” Anthony starts, but I shake my head and grab his hand.
“Please,” I say, “Anthony, please. This will fix everything.”
“Fifty thousand?” he asks, still frowning. I sag back in relief. I still feel like shit about it, but I just need to put an end to this.
“I’ll pay you back,” I say, watching as Anthony reaches for his checkbook. He shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it, Brooke. You don’t need to pay me back,” he says. There is a gruffness to his voice now, something that sounds hurt or worried . . . or maybe both.
“I will. I swear I will,” I say.
“Don’t. Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he says. “Should I make this out to you?”
“To cash,” I say. I’ve never been so miserable and so relieved at once in all my life.
Anthony writes the check and passes it to me. “Do you need anything else?” he asks. His voice sounds tight with concern.
“No, just this. Thank you so much,” I say. I drink down the rest of my coffee and bolt up from the table to call Jeff. I can feel Anthony’s eyes still on me. I should tell him more, but if I finish this right now, there is no reason for him ever to know. It will be over, Jeff will be gone, and Anthony and I can build on what we’ve been doing since he’s been back. As long as he forgives me for this, we can leave it in the past.
I dial Jeff and tell him I have the money. He sounds surprised, but orders me to come to an address I don’t recognize. I enter it into my phone when we hang up and see it’s on the other side of town. I grab a jacket from my room and head out to end this.
“I’m sorry to run out. I’m sorry for everything, but I have to take care of this,” I say to Anthony. He nods, still frowning.
“Let me come with you, at least,” he says. I wish I could. I wish I could have Anthony at my side when I face Jeff, but he’s already too involved. Even asking him for the money is too much of a risk. I can’t let him come with me, as much as I want him to.
“I have to do this alone,” I say. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Anthony says, crossing his arms. His jaw looks tight and his voice is low.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. I want to stay and talk this out with him. I want to take him with me. But I can’t do either. I have to go. I head for the door, leaving him sitting in my kitchen.
“Brooke, please let me help,” he calls to me again as I leave.
“You are helping. I have to go,” I say, going out the door without even turning around, scared I won’t go through with it if I look at him again.
I get in the car and drive to the address Jeff has given me. I repeat to myself it will be over soon, that I’m handling it. Everything for me, Autumn, and Anthony will get better.
Chapter Fourteen - Anthony
I’m really worried about Brooke. I know whatever it is she’s not telling me is huge and dangerous. I don’t care about the money. I’d give Brooke millions if she asked, but there is no way whatever she is doing is safe. I can’t stand the thought of her going to meet some fucking creep with a check made to cash and no protection. I get in my car as soon as I
hear hers pull off. I’m going to follow her. I can’t let her do something like this on her own. I don’t know what it is, but I know she shouldn’t be alone.
Brooke has always tried to solve problems on her own, determined not to burden other people. She’s an incredibly resourceful and clever woman, and often she can handle things on her own better than most people. But more than once I’ve seen it blow up in her face, overwhelming her and making things much worse. In high school, she’d been treasurer of student council when all the money collected at the annual bake sale had gone missing. Brooke blamed herself and tried to get all the money back herself before anyone had noticed. She’d put in her own money by selling things at the seedy pawn shop just outside of town. She’d pawned her own class ring and was still short over one hundred dollars. By then, people had started to suspect she was the one who had stolen the money. A rumor went around the high school that she was on drugs.
Eventually, I’d helped her form a committee to investigate the missing money, and we had the AV club search the school camera footage. It ended in an assistant football coach being fired, the money being returned, and me buying Brooke’s class ring back from the pawn shop for her.
I don’t know what’s happening now, but I suspect it’s a lot worse than a few hundred dollars missing from a high school. I drive after her, following close, worried. She parks her car at a rundown old house that looks abandoned. There’s a rusty motorcycle parked across the street that I assume belongs to whoever threatened her this morning. I get out of my car and stand on the front lawn, listening for trouble.
I hear Brooke scream a minute later, and I don’t hesitate. I rush into the house, yelling her name. I find her in what once must have been a living room, on the carpet, with a man I don’t know on top of her. He’s laughing and grabbing her thighs, and she looks terrified, pushing on his chest.
“You stupid bitch,” the man says. I grab him by the back of his shirt and pull him off of her, hard.
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