by Anthology
If Tomas had not have met his cam girl goddess, he would have looked up to Mateo as an idol, and used all of his experiences to make himself a better lover, and a better hunter of women in general.
For whatever reason though, this girl loved his sex and everything about it. She loved being with him, and maybe it was all an act, but somewhere deep in his heart, he felt like this was different than what he was used to. Somehow he felt like this girl actually loved him, that they actually had a shot of making it.
Maybe he was just a fool. After all, he had been fooled many, many times before, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the good feeling he got from her, and what they did together.
"You're avoiding the question," she pointed out, probably thinking that he was stalling. She couldn't read his facial expressions, which sometimes was a blessing, but a few times had been a curse.
Today it would keep her from realizing how scared shitless he was of what was happening in his life, and what a coward he found himself thinking he was.
Once his life started falling apart, instead of standing up like a real man would have done, like this father would have, he found himself wanting to run away. To pack what little belongings and money he had that weren't tied to his parents, and getting as far away from them as possible.
His best friend Elijah had immigrated from Jamaica, so he had thought about starting off there, and maybe making his way to Europe. He would be relatively safe in any non-Spanish speaking country, his parents had little influence outside of those.
His father would probably have let him go peacefully, accepting that his son was not cut out for the life he had made for him. His mother however, she would hunt him down to the ends of the earth.
If Tomas booked a one-way ticket to Antarctica, his mother would be waiting for him in a polar bear costume when he arrived.
Out of all the people on earth you could fuck with, Esperanza Ramirez was not one of them.
His mother could take the biggest, baddest man in the room; chew him up, and spit him out with no problem.
"I'm not exactly stalling," he replied, "I'm just trying to find the right way to word this. The court case itself actually went alright. I have to pay a huge fine, and complete one hundred hours of community service, which in light of things, is always better than jail time. On the other hand, both of my parents came to court in funeral attire, didn't speak a word to me, and only looked in my direction for long enough to hang their head in disappointment. I think I would rather have taken the jail time, to be honest."
"I wonder what I would do if I got into trouble with the law," she ran her index finger across her bottom lip in a way that he adored, "I wonder if I would bother even calling my mother, or if I would just handle things on my own."
"You've mentioned your mother before," he typed, "but you've never told me why you seem to have such a strained relationship with her."
"I don't like talking about it," she shrugged, "and I would really rather not talk about it now either. It's a dark cloud over my life that only ever brings me unhappiness, so why even bring it up? Why even talk about it at all, you know?
"I respect your privacy," he assured her, thanks to his families secret life, he needed an extreme amount of privacy from her, and if she wouldn't push him, then he wouldn’t push her either, but it was always a topic that he cared about, and tried to bring up in hopes that she had decided to trust him. Her mother bothered her sorely, and he wanted to know why.
It wasn't a morbid curiosity that pushed him, or even really a means to understand her, what he truly wanted out of the story was to be able to comfort her.
she had comforted him a thousand different ways over their short time together, but he had yet to do anything for her. She needed some comfort, he could see her life was a pile of shit, from what little he did know about her, but she had never asked him for anything; no additional gifts, or money, and never once did she ask him for comfort.
Even though she didn't ask, he wanted so badly to be able to do that for her, to finally give her back even a small piece of what she gave to him.
"If I can help you with your mother, or anything, please let me know," he typed, hoping that she would take him seriously.
"I'm fine," she smiled, "really, you don't have to worry about me."
"You worry about me all the time," he teased, but it was true. No one else worried about him this much except his mother, maybe not even her.
"So what are your parents going to do to you?" she changed the subject, and he pretended not to notice, "maybe they'll tell you that you can't participate in the family business anymore, and then it'll be a win-win."
As far as she knew, he was a spoiled rich kid, who's family was disappointed that he didn't want to follow in the family business, and that he was ruining their family name.
In his defense, most of that was true. Of course he couldn't tell her that his family business was actually crime in Miami; not only would they murder him if they found out, but it would also put her in danger, which was not something he was interested in doing.
They didn't know each other very well, but he knew that he never wanted her hurt. He wanted her safe and happy for the rest of her life.
"I'm not sure yet what they'll do. I know it won't be anything I would enjoy though, so don't get your hopes up," he laughed as he typed.
"The suspense must be killing you," she laughed, and he was glad she knew his sense of humor.
"Honestly, whatever they make me do, or however bad things get with us, I know for sure it won't be over quickly. They will drag it out, wanting me to really learn a lesson," he frowned, not wanting to look too far into his future.
"Well," she shrugged, "You were kind of an asshole. I don't really want you to be punished, but I guess I can't really blame them either. If you were my son, I probably would have killed you."
"They still might," he replied, knowing that she would think he was joking, when in reality, he was one hundred percent serious.
If his grandfather wasn't dead, he would be demanding that Tomas' head be put on a spike for so much transgression against their perfect family. The family that he had built with his own bloodied and broken hands.
Could Tomas really blame him? If he searched deep enough inside himself, he started to think that maybe it all would have been better if his parents and followed his grandfather’s way of dealing with things.
Their way, while softer, and of course, leaving him alive, only prolonged his suffering. He could have been dead in twenty minutes, but instead his father would look down on him for a lifetime.
His mother had a bit of a signature for letting people live on to suffer, instead of killing them quickly, and humanely.
"So now what will you do?" she wrapped her blanket around her head now as well, "hopefully you're done with all the drugs and fighting."
She SAID hopefully, but her eyes said, YOU BETTER BE.
"I don't think I have a choice. If it comes between partying and staying alive, I think it's best that I stay alive," he almost felt sad as he typed. Being forced to live a certain way, was not at all how he hoped that his life would play out, but here he was.
"If you had a choice though, which one would you choose?" she narrowed her eyes and stared into the camera lense.
"I would choose to do what made me happy," he sighed, whishing that any of it was an option for him.
"What would make you happy?" she asked, her eyes still narrowed as she clearly thought he was talking about drugs.
'Being with you,' he wanted to type, but couldn't bring himself to hit enter. He was almost certain that she had romantic feelings for him, but she had never come out and admitted them, and as much of a coward as that made him, he didn't want to be the first person to admit to having romantic feelings.
He had never done that before. Hell, he had probably never really been in love before. It was terrifying.
They knew so little about each other, that the risk of her
flat out rejecting him seemed to be enormous.
"You make me happy," he typed instead, thinking it was a little cheesy, but he could handle a little cheese.
A smile lit up her face, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had made the right decision.
"You make me happy too," she kissed at the screen, and he couldn’t help but stare in wonder at her beauty.
* * *
“Mikayla, you need to get your ass up for class,” Quentin, her best friend, and partner in camming, shook her violently.
“Mmmfph,” she mumbled back, swatting at him, but missing him completely.
“Please tell me you weren’t up all night again with that creepy stalker guy,” he sighed angrily at her, “you promised me you were going to cut that out.”
“I will stop,” she defended, yanking her blankets back from his hands.
“When Mikayla? This is creepy and it’s gone on for too long,” now he sounded concerned and she started to feel bad.
“I don’t know, I like being with him though. I know it sounds stupid, you’ve told me a dozen times its stupid and dangerous, but I like the things we talk about, I feel like we have a real connection, and the sex is amazeballs!” she sat up in bed smiling.
“Don’t say ‘amazeballs’, it’s tacky, and this… whatever you two have is dangerous,” he gave her a stern look, “I know you think he’s some prince charming, some rich guy our age struggling to find himself, but in reality he’s a dirty old man. He’s married, probably with kids almost our age, or he’s even older with grandkids, and he’s just looking for a fun escape to get off to. It’s all pretend to him.”
“I don’t believe that. He’s young, even if he seems old,” she ran her index finger over her lips, an old nervous habit that she couldn’t seem to get rid of.
“How does that make sense? It sounds stupid just hearing you say that,” he crossed his arms, completely convinced that she was a fool.
“The things we talk about, the amount of time we spend together lets me get to know him in a real way. Some of the problems he has, even the slang that he uses, you would be able to tell if it was a sixty-year-old man just trying to be cool,” she defended herself, even if there really was no way that she could be one hundred percent sure.
“I’m telling you, he’s playing you, and you need to end it. It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t emotionally attached to him, but you are, you’re in way too deep,” he sat down next to her, and the look of pity on his face hit her in the gut.
“Don’t pity me, I could get a real boyfriend if I wanted to,” she frowned.
“I know you can. You’re gorgeous, of course you can. I also know that you won’t though. You’re so scared of ending up like your mom, that you’d rather just be on your own forever, and this weird thing you have going on with the stalker guy, it gives you the “sex” and the romantic feelings that a relationship would, without actually having to commit to someone… without actually having to be with them or devoted to them, and I think that’s why you like it so much,” she had honestly never thought of that before.
“Maybe… maybe you’re right,” she frowned.
Though she had been asked out hundreds of times between high school and college, never once had she ever said yes to anyone. She liked being alone, loved it actually.
The freedom of it was addicting. After having to worry about her mother all her life, the last thing she wanted was to have to worry about another human being. What made them happy, if they were comfortable, if she was doing all she could for them.
Just thinking about it made her cringe.
“You’re right,” she sighed.
“I know I am,” he hugged her lightly, “now get your ass up before you make us late for class.”
* * *
“I don’t care how stupid it sounds, I’m in love with this girl,” Tomás grunted, frustrated that he couldn’t convince his best friend Elijah to believe him.
“It doesn’t just sound stupid, it sounds fucking insane. She’s a cam girl, she doesn’t give a shit about you,” he ran his hands over his scalp in frustration, “how many times have you done this? You keep thinking that all these people care about you, when they don’t. The only people that care about you are me, and your family, and the quicker you get that through your thick skull, the better off you’ll be.”
“No, you’re wrong about her, you don’t understand the relationship we have,” he defended, nothing would change his mind, “if she didn’t care about me, then she wouldn’t be so involved in my life. She wants me to make healthy decisions, she gives me advice when I need it and sets me straight when I don’t. Honestly she’s kind of like you. I know she cares about me, because she sets me straight, she lets me know when I’m being an idiot, and no one else does that.”
Elijah knew he was defeated. Whenever Tomás got that look in his eye, there was nothing you could do, but hold on tightly and hope for the best.
In this case, he seriously hoped that this girl turned out to be who she said she was, and it all came out for the best.
“No one’s ever made me feel like she does,” he said soberly, trying to put his friends mind at ease, “I don’t know a lot of things in life, but I know that when someone does that to you, you hold on to them.”
“So what’s the plan then Romeo?” Elijah quirked a brow, seriously curious as to how this would all go down, how he actually thought this would all play out.
“We already have tomorrow reserved together, I’ll put on my web cam for once, I’ll show her who I really am and ask her to do the same. I know that if I take the first step, that she’ll follow me, and we can build from there,” he couldn’t help but beam at his plan.
He knew it would work. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of them, he knew that she loved him, and he wasn’t going to stop until he had her.
Over the years he had been fooled by fake friends, and women who were only interested in him for money, but she was different. In the past he thought that someone mindlessly agreeing with him, and siding with him on everything meant that they truly cared for him. Now he knew that only meant that they were barely listening to him and didn’t give a shit what crazy mess he was spewing out, as long as he paid for the next limo ride, the next ounce, the next bottle of thousand-dollar booze.
She was different, she made him see what an asshole he could be at times, she made him face his own bullshit. That, he had learned, was real love.
“Well, I think you’re completely insane, but I support you,” Elijah smiled, not being able to help being swept up in his madness.
“It’s gonna be just like that movie, where the guy rides up at the end waving his umbrella out of the sun roof,” he smiled thinking about it, “she’s already saved me in so many ways, it’s my turn to finally be prince charming and save her back.”
ALICE K. WAYNE
Alice K. Wayne is a paranormal romance/ erotica writer straight out of the Motor City.
From a young age books became her favorite escape, and that love eventually turned to writing as well.
Alice loves traveling, is a self-proclaimed foodie, sushi addict, selfie Queen, and like all good Detroiters, is completely obsessed with Red Wings hockey.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AliceKWayne
