by Ellie Parker
22
Jessa
Another day, another disaster. You’d have thought after all the shit that’s been going on, I’d change the code to my locker. But then again, I guess it’s because of all the shit that’s going on that I couldn’t even think that far.
Second period started. And so did my artificial period. This time, it was Marilyn that they got to do their dirty work. As if seeing them clinging to her like she was the source of life wasn’t enough. I didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand it. Who just gives up on the kind of relationship we had without so much as a peep as to why they did it.
A blob of fake blood – the kind you get in masses during Halloween, was doused upon my chair. So much that as soon as my ass hit cold plastic, I knew that something was wrong. The squidgy sound, the blood splashing to the sides and dripping both down the chair and my legs made me know exactly what was wrong. A host of students turn to look at me; a host of students say the panic on my face. They looked genuinely shocked, genuinely intrigued to have found just another thing to get under my skin about. This was one of those pranks that they Starks and Marilyn didn’t announce to the world, so whereas the girls might have gotten an inkling that there was something fake about the flood pooled around my feet, the guys were one hundred percent certain that I’d just been attacked by my period.
The turned up their noses, splattered looks of disgust all over the faces and inched away from me.
“Keep your fucking bodily fluids under control,” one of the guys said.
“Watch your language,” the teacher barked. There was sternness on Mr. Franklin’s face. He wasn’t exactly strict, but it would have been a sin to find something like this humorous.
“I guess that’s what happens after three years of triple penetration. Her pussy’s so stretched out that not even a super plus ultra can stay put.”
More laughter. So much laughter. Even Mr. Franklin managed to slip a smile, almost joining in on the laughter as he tried to scold himself.
I raised a hand and asked to excuse myself. I didn’t have a sweater to throw around my waist and I wasn’t going to walk into the hall without at least a little covering and so I pulled my backpack from the floor and covered my ass with it. My steps, as I charged toward the door, were some of the quickest I’d ever taken. But I didn’t make it far. A foot shot out - Marilyn’s foot, to be particular – and I went sailing forward, landing with a crash. Pain shot through every single part of me. Especially my heart. My eyes found Marilyn’s and I wanted to fucking reach up and claw the blasted things out of her face. Prison couldn’t be any worse than this fucking nightmare.
“Oops,” she said and reached a hand down. And that’s when I saw it, red tainting the tips of her fingers. Fucking bitch.
I was back on my feet in an instant, fisting her shirt in my hand and slamming her against the back of her chair. “I swear to God, Marilyn.”
“God isn’t exactly the kind who likes whores, Jessa. Sorry to disappoint you.”
My fist was balled so goddamn tight. Had it not been for Mr. Franklin practically dragging me away from her, I’d have likely found myself behind the Principal’s desk and then behind bars in a jailcell.
I sucked in a deep breath and turned my hands up to show him that I wasn’t going to do anything stupid. My backpack was still on the floor and I reached for that two. I took one step before Marilyn whispered something at my back. I didn’t catch what it was, but I didn’t have to in order to know that her words were meant to sting. Like something out of an action figure, I swung my backpack in top speed and crashed it against her face. Her hands shot up in production, plastered at her cheeks, checking her lips.
“You think just because you know what Stone’s cock tastes like you’ll get a pass for bullying me, Marilyn? The Starks might protect you while they’re around, but when they’re not around you better fucking watch your back.”
She looked a little bit scared, though not convinced. I’d make sure she saw just how fucking serious I was.
“Miss. Renshaw,” Mr. Franklin barked.
Wordlessly, I stepped past him and made my way out of the classroom and to my lockers. And that’s when I found that the bastards were thinking a lot further than I was. My gym back had an extra suit of clothes. That suit of clothes hung from the hooks in my locker, with even more fake blood strategically placed on it. I was angry. Fucking livid. I wanted to Stark back into the room and really fucking pummel Marilyn’s face in.
It took everything in me to bite back the anger. I grabbed the clothes from the hook, and what fell out had me screaming so loud that an entire classroom of kids came pouring into the hallway. When the noticed it was me causing the alarm, the looked pleased and then humored as they saw the markings on my pants. And then shocked when they saw the chicken head at my feet. It wasn’t fake blood that I was soaked in.
I pulled my cellphone out of my pants pocket, ignoring the stares and the laughter, and I called Sven. Then Chase. Then Stone. They were going to fucking explain to me what happened, whether they liked it, or not.
None of them answered and so I left the crowds to wait in the parking lot by their cars. All three cars were gone. So they weren’t here. Didn’t make much sense because both Sven and Stone had classes and usually Chase waited around until football practice was done to leave.
I got in the car they’d bought for me. Yes, I held on to it. If they wanted it back, they would have to tell me so themselves. Not that sometimes just palming the keyfob in my hand didn’t threaten to open up an elephant sized wound in my heart.
I called Sven again.
And the Stone.
And then Chase.
No answer.
This one was a longshot, this one was a slight bit of revenge. I scrolled through my phone and hovered over the words Stark House before pushing my finger against it. Three rings and then Walden Stark’s voice came.
“Jessa,” he said, confused. My name was saved on their phone, that much I knew.
“Hey, I just wanted to check if the guys are home. They’re not answering their phones and-”
“Yeah, they’re here, want me to grab one of them?”
I thought about it for a minute. And then decided against it. Likely, no matter who took the phone, it wouldn’t end with an actual conversation.
“No, no,” I said, “is it okay if I stop by today?”
“You’re always welcome here, Jessa. You know that. With or without the boys, the house is opened to you.”
I smiled a little at that. I’d gotten that very offer from Walden more times than I could count. I’d even taken him up on it a few times.
23
Walden Stark
I’d found my leverage in the person of Ms. Jessa Renshaw.
I made myself a gin and tonic and headed to the room to wait. I brought up the camera in Sven’s room on the flat screen and played the footage from the party they threw while I was away in the Caribbean. If everything happened as I suspected, Sven had her in his room. Sure, a party was going on, but Sven wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have her to himself.
I fast forwarded through a lot of footage, finally getting to the point where Sven took her back to his room. He was the most likely one to fuck her first. So, it was an educated guess that made me decide on seeing what he was up to that night. The room was dark, but even then, I could make out the shape of her body, of her curves. With her in the picture, it wasn’t hard to tune out everything that involved Sven. I focused on her, cock in my hand as I watched her body give in to the pleasure of having her breasts teased, her neck licked, her pussy moistened.
It was just when things were getting good that the phone started to ring. I checked the caller ID with not much intention of answering. Not until I saw Jessa Renshaw written in stark black letters upon the screen.
“Jessa,” I answered and couldn’t have been more excited about where the conversation led. The thing about being as calculated as I was, was that my inte
ntions were never obvious when my family analyzed my actions. I was nice to all their friends. The cool dad who could get away with saying things that other dads couldn’t – rich old men have that advantage. I allowed the parties. I left enough booze to make those parties a success. There weren’t exactly words spoken that this was what it was. But they all knew. To the outside world, I looked stiffer than a board. You can’t really shake the way people on the outside think about you or treat you when the only thing they see is the Rolls Royce you stepped out of.
It took no more than a half an hour for Jessa to arrive. The doorbell rang and I watched for a minute on the screen as she waited impatiently for someone to come down and open it.
She was antsy, which was good. I didn’t know exactly what was going on between her and the guys, but I’d heard enough whispers to know that they were pissed. They’re loss. My gain. Nothing easier than a woman with a broken heart. In this case, she had her heart broken by three different guys. That couldn’t have been easy.
I paced my steps down the stairs and steadied my breaths as I pulled the door open. She looked like death. Like she wouldn’t mind tying herself to a train track and having every train have its way with her.
“You don’t look so good, Jessa,” I say and dropped my hand to her back, easing her inside.
She came willingly, as always. Though there was something odd about the way she was moving.
“You could say that,” she grunted, but didn’t explain.
“You want me to have a word with the guys?” I asked. Then barked, “Sven, Stone, Ch-” like I thought they were actually home. Ha. Way too easy.
Jessa’s head was shaking fast. “No. I think this is something I need to handle myself. I’ll just wait in the sitting room if that’s okay.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I’m having some guests over. I’ll take you to Sven’s room. You can wait there.” She nodded and I took a few steps forward, taking note of the fact that she wasn’t following behind as eagerly as I would have hoped. Jessa wasn’t herself today. “Sven,” I called out for effect, slowing my steps so that Jessa and I were shoulder to shoulder with each other. And then, just because I needed to get a look of that ass that my sons had been so keen on cramming all three of their cocks into, I dropped back behind her. I had to clam my mouth shut to stop my jaw from hitting the ground.
We were only a few feet away from Sven’s room at that point. As gently as I could, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Jessa, I think you had a little bit of an accident, sweetie.”
She didn’t look shocked by that fact. Instead, she burst out into tears. There was so much blood that it looked like she’d either been shot in the vagina, had a miscarriage or had been bleeding for the entire day.
I pushed open the door to Sven’s room and pulled her into me, hushing her tears against my chest.
“Shhh… Shhh… it’s okay,” I whispered and traveled my hands down, slipping her pants from her thighs. “I’ll get you something from Marjorie’s closet to change into, I said.”
She guided my hands away, startled, but not rudely. “I’d appreciate that, she said, and I smiled, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving her standing right in front of the camera.
It took me longer than it needed to in order to get back to Jessa. By the time I was back in the room, she’d fully slipped out of her pants and had Sven’s blanket thrown across her to keep herself covered. I decided not to push things any further. The truth was, I had all I needed to get the ball rolling.
But first, I needed to drop another ball. I told Jessa that it seemed as though the boys had slipped out and handed her the pair of yoga pants I’d slipped from Marjorie’s closet and coupled that with one of her most expensive and least used purses for Jessa to put her stuff in.
“I’ll just carry them like this,” Jessa said and bundled the clothes into a ball, “it’s fine.”
“No,” I shook my head. “Marjorie’s been cleaning out her closet, this is just one of the ones she was about to give to Goodwill.”
She didn’t look appreciative. Buying this one nice things to keep her happy wasn’t exactly something that could be done. But then again, she wasn’t opposed to dropping the top in that god awful car the boys had gotten for her.
“Thanks Walden,” she said and waited for me to leave before she slipped into the yoga pants.
I allowed her to let herself out, unaware that Marjorie had just pulled in as Jessa was coming out the front door. They exchanged a few words, but Jessa practically ran to her car and left.
Marjorie pushed her way into the house, angrier than a bull in front of a red flag. Her arms filled with groceries, pretending I didn’t know she was pissed. She jerked away, an accusing, angry look on her face.
“I can handle this on my own,” she said and marched toward the kitchen. I had a feeling she wasn’t just talking about the groceries, but who was I to take a woman’s independence from her.
I settled into my office for the rest of the day and then, at night, moved into the sitting room. It was around midnight before the house started to get stirred on top of its head.
Marjorie was coming down the stairs, suitcases in hand, when the boys got in.
“I’m going for good this time!” she pronounced and all three boys stared, mouths opened and then looked to me for an explanation as she slammed the door behind herself.
“Women,” I sighed, “You know your mother. She’ll be back.”
They looked at one another, eyebrows deep as they headed to their rooms. “Oh, Sven…” I called before he was out of my line of sight. “Your little friend stopped by and we left you a present on your bed.”
He froze and then took two stairs at a time to get to his room where I’d left a printout from the video I’d recorded. The video of me pulling Jessa’s pants from her hips.
I went to stand at the foot of the stairs and called up in a loud voice. “By the way, I see you boys had a nice time while I was away. I’m sure you know why I have to even the score a little. Just so you know where I’m coming from in case my little secret should find its way out. Right?”
There was no sound from upstairs. I knew they’d gotten the message.
24
Jessa
I went to bed confused. And hurt. Without dinner and without explanation. I felt strange. Weird. Dirty. I knew that it was nothing which also made me feel like an asshole for feeling the way I did. But Walden helping me out of my jeans. I should have stopped it before it even started, but how the hell was I supposed to see that coming.
He was just trying to take care of you Jessa. That was true. After all, me showing up to his house with an ass covered in blood wasn’t exactly something that would spark his interest. Not that he had an interest.
The whole thing was just one embarrassing mess to be honest. The fact that I’d showed up at their house the way I did. Seeing Walden there was, of course, unexpected. I’d expected the boys to be the ones to open the door. I’d expected them to be the ones to shove me back into the car and send me on my way. This whole new level of avoiding me was something special. To be honest, I was pretty sure they were home, cars locked in the garage and their asses hiding out somewhere where they could watch me and laugh at just how much of a dumb fuck I was for showing up.
A thought hit, that maybe they’d gotten their dad on this whole bully Jessa thing. But as soon as it came, it was gone. Walden Stark was nice. Genuinely nice. Maybe not to his wife, if the things the boys had told me were true. But he treated their friends like his friends. Never hesitating to offer someone a beer and in my case, a shoulder to lean on.
I laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, recreating every single detail I could remember; going over and over them in my mind as I tried to figure out what made the Stark boys kick me to the bottom of the food chain. It had to have been something I did when I was drunk. I didn’t have a clue what it was, though. It wasn’t as though I had vices or experience in anyt
hing. I’d always been at the whim of the Stark boys. It seemed now I was again, but in a sick and twisted way.
The next morning, my mother forced a glass of orange juice on me. I took one sip as I walked out to the car and chucked the rest over the lawn. I had no appetite.
When got to school, I tried to make myself as small as possible. I sat at the front of class, kept my eyes trained on my desk. Was the first one into each room and the first one out. I skipped lunch. I just didn’t have the strength to stand up to the confrontation I knew would be waiting for me. One more class to go and one more glance at Stone sucking tongue with Marilyn, I decided to call it quits. I walked out to the parking lot and sat in my car – the only thing I had left of them - crying.
When the bells rang, I stepped outside and leaned myself against Stone’s car.
It was his most treasured possession and I knew he’d be anxious to see me there. Maybe thought I’d key it or slash a tire. It took a little under five minutes for him to show up.
“Look what he cat dragged in!” he hissed, then stepped right up to me so that his chest was against my chest. I could feel the way his breath hitched. I could hear the way my heart pounded. To say that there wasn’t something that still existed between us would be a lie. You don’t get as angry as he gets when somebody doesn’t matter to you. When I looked into his eyes, lost beneath the anger, I saw pain.
“Get the hell away from my car!”
I stood my ground, although my knees were shaking. He was wearing his letterman’s jacket and as he came closer, he peeled it off as though he were preparing to fight someone. Me? Was he going to hit me? Surely to God, no.
His face was scarlet with anger. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone, Jessa. I also told you to get away from my car. Leave, now, or you’ll force me to do something I don’t want to do.”
