by Aurora, Lexi
“Christ,” he says weakly, throwing an arm around me and drawing me closer. He seems unperturbed by the fact that I’m sticky with his cum, tucking my head beneath his chin and holding me flush against him.
“That was…phenomenal, baby,” I murmur, nuzzling against him. In spite of my intent for this to be a one-night stand, it’s the best sex I’ve had in my life. It also doesn’t help that the rich pretty boy treats me so nicely.
“You’re fantastic,” he chuckles, brushing a hand through my hair. My mind flashes to Tommy, and I imagine the expression that would cross his stupid face upon seeing me in bed with his most notorious rival. I giggle to myself, my mirth cut short as I hear the door to my apartment swing open.
“Jesus, fuck,” I hiss, scrambling to cover myself up as Jeff sits up to face the intruder. Tommy steps into my bedroom, looking furious yet unsurprised to see the man I’m tangled up with.
“You fuckin’ whore,” he screams, rushing towards the bed. Jeff lurches to his feet, placing himself between the tank of a man and myself. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy, don’t cross me,” Tommy says through gritted teeth, but Jeff doesn’t move.
“I’ll kill you before I let you touch her again,” Jeff says passionately, and my heart swells at the sentiment. Tommy smiles a near-toothless smile, reaching towards his pocket. Before he can grab his knife, Jeff tackles him to the ground, slamming his fist into the deadbeat’s already-bruised face. I watch on pins and needles as the two roll on the floor, exchanging blows to the face. While JByrd is muscular, Tommy probably outweighs him by around sixty pounds, and he uses the weight to his advantage. He manages to keep Jeff pinned long enough to draw his knife out of his pocket, and I scream as he lowers the blade to J’s throat.
“Tommy, stop. Don’t kill him, please!” I plead, lurching towards the end of the bed.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Felicia. I knew you were a dirty bitch, but leaving me for this bastard? You don’t know what loyalty is. Well, baby, you’re about to learn,” Tommy says darkly, shouting angrily as Jeff bucks up beneath him. The knife nicks his neck just barely, tearing a jagged line down the skin of his chest. Blood pours from the wound, but Jeff manages to get to his feet, stumbling away from Tommy.
“You’re crazy,” Jeff shouts, fumbling for his jeans. It’s obvious that he’s looking for his own knife, but once he lays hands on it, Tommy is upon him again. Tommy slices the blade across Jbyrd’s face, and my sweet pretty boy screams in agony.
“By the time I’m done with you, they’ll have to have a closed casket, bucko,” Tommy taunts. Jeff scrambles back until his back is flush against the wall, fumbling with his knife. Even I can tell he’s at a disadvantage with his current position, and if I don’t do something, Tommy will slice him from ear to ear. Then, I would be next.
“Tom, please. Just let us go. All I want is to get out of here. You’ll never have to see either of us again, and you and I will both be free,” I try to reason with the large man. He hesitates, glancing over his shoulder at me, wearing the most wicked smile I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Felicia, baby, as long as I’m alive, you’ll never be free,” he says with a crazed smile, turning his attention back to Jeff. I had hoped the short reprieve would be enough for Jeff to scramble to his feet and defend himself, but my baby seemed frozen with fear. He turns wide and panicked eyes towards me, parting his lips as Tommy draws back his blade.
“I’m sorry,” JByrd whispers. The next few seconds pass in a blur. As Tommy lowers his knife towards Jeff to land the blow that would end his life, I reach between my mattresses and grab the pistol I knew Tommy kept loaded for ‘emergencies.’ I’ll be goddamned if this doesn’t qualify as an emergency. I cock the pistol, and Tommy stops short upon hearing the familiar sound. He turns towards me, having the nerve to look entertained by the threat.
“The hell you gonna do with that, bitch–” he shouts, taking a threatening step toward me. Without another second’s hesitation, I pull the trigger. Tommy’s eyes widen in disbelief, just as the bullet pierces him right between them. JByrd’s eyes are wide as well, as his attacker slumps to the ground. He lurches towards Tommy, and the gun trembles in my hands as a numb sensation washes over me. I drop the gun, and Jeff shakes Tommy as if he can’t believe the big lug is actually dead.
“Felicia…,” he begins, and I choke out a sob as I realize just how thoroughly I’ve messed up.
“He was going to kill you, JByrd! I couldn’t let that happen,” I blurt. Jeff rises to his feet, considering the scene with trepidation. He turns towards me, pointing to the closet.
“Get dressed. Grab anything you can’t bear to leave behind,” he says urgently, grabbing his jeans and slipping into them.
“W-what do you mean? Get out of here, Jay. You ain’t got no reason to take the fall with me,” I respond. He grabs a set of clothes from the closet, throwing them at me. He steps over Tommy’s dead body, reaching out to cup my cheeks in his hands.
“As long as I’m alive, you won’t take the fall. We’re going to get dressed, we’re going to get in my car, and we’re going to drive as far as the roads will take us,” he says gently, leaning in to capture my lips in a kiss. I press my hand gently to his chest, and he winces at the pressure on his injury.
“You’re hurt, baby,” I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes. In that moment, it feels like my whole life is crashing down around me. Jeffrey forces me to meet his gaze, which is surprisingly calm considering the situation.
“The cuts will heal. Nothing fixes a broken heart. Come on, let’s get out of here,” he urges. I hesitate a moment longer before pulling on the outfit he’d grabbed for me. I grab the pistol that I’d used to shoot Lopez, and JByrd looks at me with a curious expression.
“If we’re going Bonnie and Clyde here, I’m going all or nothing, baby,” I murmur. He chuckles, grabbing me by the arm and leading me out of the apartment. It’s in the worst part of town, and if fortune is on our side, no one has called the cops yet. JByrd and I slip into the parking lot unseen, hopping into his car. He considers the gas gauge, turning a smile upon me.
“A full tank. We’ll put some miles between this shithole and ourselves. Hopefully we have some time before the cops start on our trail,” he chuckles. Though I’m stricken by how calm he seems, in a moment a similar sense of calm washes over me. In spite of what I’d done, I felt no remorse for what had happened to Tommy. He’d been holding me captive for years it seemed, and he’d said it himself: I would never be free as long as he was alive.
“You sure you’re willing to… goddamn, JByrd, you’re giving up your life for me,” I manage weakly. He shifts into reverse, pulling out of the parking spot and speeding out onto the highway. The blood that had poured from his wounds has slowed to a steady trickle, though it seems the bleeding won’t stop altogether any time soon.
“Felicia, ever since I laid eyes upon you, trapped under that car with Tommy, I was sure of one thing,” he says calmly, glancing into his rearview mirror as he cuts through the back roads out of town.
“What’s that, baby boy?” I inquire, feeling my cellphone vibrate. I consider it for a moment, rolling down the window and tossing it out. He seems to get the same idea, tossing his own phone as well.
“I knew from the moment I saw you, that without you in my life, it wasn’t a life worth living. I don’t know if you believe in love at first sight, but…,” he trails off, glancing at me with a smile.
“For you, I made an exception,” I retort slyly, a sensation of giddiness rising up within me. While the future ahead isn’t clear, I realize that I finally have my freedom. Moreover, I can share that freedom with someone who actually loves me. “I love you, JByrd,” I say, the words feeling strange in spite of the truth behind them. “I haven’t loved anyone since my mom and pop, but I know this for sure. I’m head over heels for my pretty boy,” I smile. He chuckles, reaching onto the center console to take my hand. I grip his calloused one in mine, staring at the road ahead o
f us. We’re approaching a large sign at top speed, and I smile as I read the words inscribed in white upon it.
“You are now leaving Atlanta, Georgia,” I murmur aloud, and Jeffrey chortles, tightening his grip on my hand.
“You are now entering your new life. How do you feel about that?” he prompts, and I hesitate for a moment as I consider my response. Life as a fugitive might not be what one would consider your classic, happily-ever-after scenario. Our story was anything but your classic fairy tale, however. I lean over the center console, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grins before he presses the pedal to the metal, speeding down the highway. As Atlanta’s skyscrapers fade into the distance behind us, and the scenery screams past my window in barely visible streaks, I realize that I can’t imagine another person I would rather be with in that moment. Though I know there may come a time that we crash and burn, I also know that in that moment, I couldn’t ask for anything better.
“I feel good, JByrd. As a matter of fact, I feel pretty fantastic.”
The end.
Bonus 3: History with the Billionaire
Chapter One
SCARLETT
In one morning, I’d heard enough about the Oliver family to last a lifetime, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock. The “East Coast Emperors”, some people called them – the kind of business-savvy tycoons who came from generations of old money and gave just enough of their riches to charity to seem altruistic, at least to the short-sighted viewer. But on that unseasonably hot April morning, they were being talked about for a very different reason.
At first, I figured the matriarch, Tamara, had announced a surprise engagement or wedding, or maybe her daughter Alison had released a surprise collection in one of her many lifestyle, jewelry, or fashion empires. I knew the fuss couldn’t be about Adrian. Adrian Oliver was the youngest member of the family at twenty-eight years old, and he was a sensationalist media darling as well as a prominent feature in every trashy tabloid. He was talked about so much already that there was no way anything he could have done would make CNN, MSNBC, and CBS News talk about the Oliver family at such length… that morning, there had been no escaping them.
Starting from the time I turned on the news to check the weather at my apartment to scanning the radio on my drive into work to entering the university, all I heard were snippets of the name Oliver buzzing around my ears. I hoped no one I worked with was vapid enough to be invested in the family, but I soon found that I was sorely mistaken. Not only did the people at work appear to care about the Olivers, but that morning, they were enraptured by them.
I said my good-mornings and made excuses to get to my office as quickly as possible, eager to remove myself from the frivolities of the modern world and get swept up in the Spanish Inquisition; my current field of expertise. Within thirty minutes of being granted my reprieve and sitting down comfortably, one of the library assistants hurried up to my desk, looking frazzled and overly-excited.
“Line three for you, Dr. Quinnes,” she said, her stage whisper louder than normal. “Dr. Quinnes, the call… it’s not a, uh, normal call.”
“Cassie, it’s not personal, is it? I’ve specifically said I don’t allow personal calls to my work number-”
“No, no, nothing like that, it’s work related.” Cassie, a student of twenty-two, shook her head emphatically and looked around to make sure no one else could hear her. Of course, no one could – I worked in relative isolation, as I liked it.
“Oh. Well, alright, thank you.”
Cassie seemed rooted to her spot in front of my desk, and I tilted my head in concern when she made no move to walk away.
“Something wrong?” I asked, hesitantly reaching for the phone on my desk.
“Uhhh…”
I was vaguely aware of a few other coworkers mulling about outside my door, but I failed to make a connection between them and Cassie’s odd behavior.
“Good morning,” I greeted the person on the other line. “This is Dr. Scarlett Quinnes. How can I help you?”
“Scarlett. Pretty name.”
I frowned. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I knew it wasn’t any of the other university historians; they would never say something like that. They were all far too shy, with their noses in their books and minds stuck hundreds of years in the past.
“And, um, may I ask who is calling?” I ignored the compliment and got to business.
“Sure you can. This is Adrian Oliver. You might have heard of me,” the voice said, sounding cocky and languid.
I looked up at Cassie, my eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. She must have been recruited by someone in another department to play a prank on me. I always hated the way the other departments – mostly the sciences – liked to harass the history “nerds”, as though they were somehow better.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. Goodbye.”
“Wait.”
Against my better instinct, I paused. There was something so authoritative about that voice, something so strong and confident. It was almost arousing.
“Make this quick,” I said, trying to ignore the heat rising in my face.
“I really am Adrian Oliver, and I take it you do know who I am,” he said, not sounding any more urgent than he had before.
“I know a bit about your family, yes,” I told him.
“Well, it’s actually my family that wants to hire you. I’m calling on their behalf. We’re in need of someone with your… unique expertise.”
I didn’t like his tone; it almost sounded like he was poking fun at me and what I do. “And exactly what might the Oliver family want from me, a humble historian?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d call you that.” Adrian gave a low chuckle, and just like his command earlier, it was undeniably sexy. “I did my research on you, Miss Scarlet.”
“Doctor,” I corrected him, trying to remain professional.
“Miss Doctor Scarlett,” he amended, teasing me. “You are not exactly a ‘humble historian’. Let’s see… you were a violin prodigy as a child, finished high school at fifteen, graduated with a bachelor’s degree from Oxford at nineteen – magna cum laude, I might add – completed your master’s at Cambridge, and returned to Oxford for your doctorate. You’ve published very well-received articles, and a book that won several prizes. Now you’re considered one of the top experts in the country – hell, maybe the world – on seventeenth-century Europe, specializing in Spanish relations. Does that sound right, Doctor?”
I hated the way he dragged out my title. I hated that he knew so much about me, including my childhood history… I tried to keep the prodigy bit out of my life. For whatever reason, when people find out one was an especially precocious child, they seem to expect far too much from that person, and I’d spent most of my adult life dodging that.
“Yes,” I said sharply. “Now exactly why are you calling me, Mr. Oliver?”
“We’ve got a bit of a situation over here.” Adrian’s voice lowered, and he sounded a little more serious now. “There’s a guy who’s been running around claiming that one of my ancestors robbed one of his ancestors blind, way back a few hundred years ago. Problem is, this guy claims he’s got proof, and it all looks kind of legit. He’s hired a lawyer, a damn good one, and he’s trying to take us to court. If what he’s saying is true, we’re gonna end up paying him a lot of money. I mean, a lot. I mean… listen, Doctor, I’m telling you this in confidence.” The way that Adrian’s voice dropped half an octave as he murmured conspiratorially sent a shiver down my spine.
“Of course.”
“We could lose most of our fortune. Even my sister, who runs her own multi-million-dollar business, would owe him a huge chunk of the profits, since she used her inheritance to start the company. It could ruin us, you know?”
I found myself sympathizing with him, mostly because of his voice, which was now very sincere. “Mr. Oliver, I’m very sorry you find yourself in this position, truly. But I am not a lawyer-”
“I know, we’ve already got some of those,” Adrian interrupted me, trying to sound flippant again. “But you’ve got the knowledge and background we need. You know how to get to the right resources and find out if this is real or not. You’re going to make or break our case, and we really need you.”
“I wish I could help, I really do. But I can’t just abandon my work here-”
“Listen, if you help us, we’ll pay you twenty-five thousand dollars.”
I choked on my intake of breath.
Chapter Two
ADRIAN
My mother had instructed me to wait at the airport for the good Doctor, which I figured was inspired by courtesy but executed by punishment. I was hungover and my upper body ached. The girl I’d been with the night before was – I cannot make this up – a Russian acrobat. She was one martini in, and I was… farther gone. So, I was willing to try anything she suggested. Not that I’d take any of it back… what I remember much of it, anyway.
It was a birthday party for a friend; a guy I’d known for half my life. His twenty-ninth birthday. I almost felt bad that I was the one getting laid… almost. The other guys had been rooting for me – though maybe it was just because I’d paid for everything – so I couldn’t feel too bad. I’d taken care in my earlier years to surround myself with people who wouldn’t judge me for my hedonistic ways, like my family sometimes did. The press pretended to, but those trash magazines and TMZ-types thrived on my antics. And why shouldn’t they? It was all in the name of enjoying life. And hell, I’d experienced enough of life to know that you had to grab what you wanted when you could.
