by Jaye Cox
“Kalen, I…”
“Just leave,” Onyx snaps. “We all knew you were a whore and you proved it, just leave before you embarrass yourself anymore.”
They don’t let me explain, they all walk away. What the fuck is Baxter's problem?
“Fuck you,” I scream at their retreating bodies. “Fuck off!”
I run back to my room, closing myself off. Fuck them for getting under my skin, fuck Baxter for knowing damn well that Kalen was standing there. Fuck them all.
***
I wake with puffy eyes when laughter comes from the far end of the field directly behind my dorm.
It’s dark outside, but I can make out that kids are walking into the trees. Great there’s a party and I wasn’t invited. Fuck them, they can hear me out. I dress in some warmer clothes, fuck their rules. I wear my hoodie and a plain pair of yoga pants and follow the light sound of flapper music.
“What are you doing out in the woods all alone, girly?” His voice startles me.
I see Baxter leaning against a nearby tree. He is looking dapper in a 1920’s style outfit. On anyone else I’d question it, but on him it works.
“I saw someone walk out into the woods and figured I would see what was going on,” I’m a little short and snappy with him. Yes, I was wrong to steal from him – although I maintain it was only the once because the bike was returned – but he’s in the doghouse for deliberately fucking around with me when he knew Kalen was watching.
“Do you make a habit of following strangers into dark places?” he asks, blowing a puff of smoke from his mouth. He does it so effortlessly, that the action makes him look badass.
“Monsters don’t always hide in the dark, most look you right in the eyes every day,” I say but he doesn’t respond. “So, what are you doing in the dark alone?”
“Just waiting for my Marty McFly to stop by,” he says, just another random thing he sprouts, he really is weird.
Is this guy serious right now?
“I need you to tell Kalen nothing happened between us,” I insist.
“And why would I do that?” he says, stubbing out his smoke.
“Because it’s the truth.”
“It’s your truth. But maybe it’s not mine. Maybe I’m crazy for you and my truth is that something did happen.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Certifiably. Kalen’s truth is that we fucked. There’s no truth, just perspective.”
“That doesn’t make any sense! It’s not true; we didn’t fuck!”
“But maybe we wanted to.”
“You’re so frustrating! Just tell him that nothing happened. He won’t listen to me!” I’m so exasperated right now, and I feel like I’m being sucked into a circular conversation that will go round and round with no end.
“How about this…” Branson proposes. “You know as well as I do that in this life nothing comes for free. Fuck me and I’ll tell him nothing happened.”
“Then it would be a lie.”
“Choice is yours. He believes we fucked, even when we didn’t, or you fuck me, right here, right now, and he will believe nothing happened.”
“You’re an asshole!” I yell, and a twig snaps behind us. “What's that noise?”
“What's the fun in telling you? The games have begun, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” His face turns into something dark. “I think you should run now.”
“What games?” If he thinks a small noise from the dark is enough to scare me, then he is sorely mistaken.
“I have told you before to pay attention to what is happening around you, but you need to run, Amelie. They are coming and you’re not dressed up, so you have now become the hunted. I could catch you right now and fuck you, and the game would be over before it even begins.”
He can’t be serious. Game? What fucking game? I don’t plan to play. Instead, I take off running for the dormitory entrance.
Footfalls pound on the ground behind me, making me glad I’ve been running with Onyx; my endurance is better than it was.
A large silhouette of a body blocks my path, causing me to turn and run back in the direction I just came from, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Twigs snap. Leaves crunch. I'm being hunted. It’s pitch black now, compared to the light that previously allowed me to see the shadows disappearing into the trees. I can’t see the path in front of me, so I have to use my hands to guide my way. I rack my brain trying to figure out why I am being hunted...am I even the prey? Or am I in the wrong place at the wrong time?
There’s no way anyone could have known I was coming out here tonight. Not one person.
My legs burn, and I’m thrown off my feet when I hit something solid. I scramble to feel around and I’m in luck: a hollow log. I manage to squeeze my body into the space inside the log, or what I’m hoping is a log. I close my eyes and wait.
I hear muffled voices and whistles. The sound of dogs barking gets closer and closer. What is going on?
Chapter Twenty
I must have fallen asleep, waking up in a tight spot has my muscles cramping. Sliding myself out of what I thought was a log last night, I discover that it’s a hollow cement cylinder.
I race from the woods, not wanting to encounter whatever was out there last night.
I spot Kalen as I come across the oval, he is surrounded by a bunch of girls all laughing at what he is saying. Jealousy hits me hard when he looks at me and his lip curls up in disgust. I shake my head and don’t bother approaching him; he clearly needs time to calm down before he is willing to talk. If he really thinks I’m the type of girl to screw a guy after leaving another's arms, then maybe he doesn’t know me that well at all. But isn’t that what you’re doing, Amelie, with all the brothers? My damn subconscious even thinks I’m a whore.
“You look a bit rough,” Baxter says, stating the obvious. I feel twigs stuck in my damn hair.
“Fuck you, Baxter.”
“I offered that but you declined, and now look at what you have caused.” He looks over my shoulder and I look back. Kalen is now glaring at us. Baxter grabs me off guard and pulls me in closer.
“Pretty boy hates you. My offer still stands.”
“You don’t want to fuck me,” I state pushing him off me. “It’s all some game to you, to piss them off.”
“Maybe so, but fucking you would be an added bonus. Not many girls are game to get close to me, what with me being a killer and all.”
“I thought you weren’t allowed to tell anyone why you’re here? Besides, somehow I think it’s your face that scares the girls away.” Baxter laughs.
“You’re not supposed to ask why, we are free to tell people. I killed someone, Amelie, and I enjoyed it. They deserved what I did, and worse.” I’m shocked at his admission. Though when you look at Baxter he does admittedly look like a serial killer – extremely good looking, charismatic, unstable. Isn’t that what they said about Ted Bundy? That he was good looking. I can see the comparisons.
“Well nice chat. I have somewhere to be,” I say.
“Yeah, singing lessons with your little slashed-up boyfriend.” How the hell does this guy know my every move? It’s freaky. It dawns on me that maybe Monty has him spying on me. Shit.
I race to the music block and find Slate waiting for me, he takes one look at me and his eyes go wide.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Well at least he’s still talking to me.
“I slept in the bush.” He looks at me like I have lost my mind. “Crazy night.”
“Maybe you should clean up a little,” he says pointing to the door. “You’re not even in uniform. You’re going to get in so much trouble when someone sees you.”
“I can leave and not come back,” I snap, too tired to deal with anymore Knox drama for one day. “Besides, you’re a perfect prefect. Are you going to give me a uniform slip?”
“There’s a bathroom across the hall and here,” he says, throwing a shirt at me. “I keep a spare here in case I ever need it.”
He doesn’t offer an explanation as to why he would ever need a spare shirt in a music room, and I don’t ask. I’d just like to go one day without Knox drama. Scratch that; I want to go one damn day without any drama full stop. I take his spare school-issue button up shirt and go across the hall to the bathroom.
I laugh when I see my appearance. I have surface scratches on my face – which is smeared with mud – and my hair does in fact have a few twigs and leaves in it. I strip from my filthy clothes and wipe myself down with the paper towels provided to dry your hands. It’s not much better, but at least the mud has gone. I slip into Slate’s shirt; it covers everything I need it to. I carefully take my dirty clothes with me back to the room he practices in and dump them by the door.
Slate visibly swallows as I walk closer.
“Wow, you look amazing in my shirt…Pity about you being with Branson, it kind of ruined you.”
“For fuck’s sake, will you all get over it! I didn’t fuck Baxter! I wouldn’t do that to Kalen after spending the night with him. Contrary to what you all believe, I really like your brother, he’s funny and sweet.”
“He is adamant about what he saw.”
“Actually, he’s adamant about what Baxter made him think he saw. Do you think it’s really a coincidence that Kalen knew where we were? If you must know, it was a punishment for me. I fucked up where Baxter is concerned, and he was letting me know it. I think it was just some kind of sick and twisted bonus that he could stick it to Kalen at the same time.”
“Good luck convincing Kalen of that. But I can see it. What did you do to piss him off?”
“Stole his money and borrowed his bike.”
Slate laughs. “I knew I liked you. His bike is his world. I doubt he gave a fuck about the money. But the bike…”
“I returned it and I took care of it.”
“Obviously. You wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale if anything had happened to his precious ride.”
“So, will you talk to Kalen for me?” I ask, hopeful.
“Not a chance. Now let’s practice this song. We don’t have much rehearsal time before the showcase.”
Slate goes to the piano and I take my spot beside him. We rehearse over and over again until my voice feels hoarse and he calls it a day.
After we pack up, Slate finds me a bag for my dirty clothes. I wait until I know everyone will be in class before I make my exit. I know I’ll get in trouble for skipping a class, but there's no way I can turn up in just a shirt. A man’s shirt at that. The punishment would be worse.
The paths to my dorm are empty. I have to cut across the English buildings, and I know I may get a few odd looks from those looking out of the windows, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
My day gets worse.
Kalen happens to look out the window as I walk by. I put my head down and keep walking.
“Amelie.”
Did I mention it got worse? Like, a lot worse.
“Yes, Mr Knox?” I say turning to face Sawyer but refusing to lift my head and meet his gaze.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently like I’m a wild animal about to freak out.
“No, Sawyer, I’m not okay.” Tears start to flow. “I am having a shit day...a shit few days actually.”
“Come with me,” he says. Usually, I would put up a fight, refuse to go, but all my willpower is gone. Losing Kalen hurts. I miss him, and it’s only been a day. I follow Sawyer to his office, and he locks the door behind us.
He sits in his spot and takes out a notepad. I sit in the chair opposite his desk, plastic bag full of dirty clothes on my lap.
“Here, this will get you out of classes for the day.”
“Thanks,” I say, standing to leave.
“Wait.”
“What for?”
“Do you need to talk?”
“Talk,” I scoff. “I need more than that, sir,” I say, desperately trying to keep the boundaries that he set in place. I know I threatened him with our little encounter, but I quickly dismissed that idea. The guy is too nice to destroy that way. Besides, he really is a great teacher. He doesn’t deserve to lose his livelihood.
“How about you head back to your dorm and I’ll send someone to get some supplies for you?”
“Okay, Mr Knox. Thanks for the pass.”
I don’t remember much of the walk back to my room. Not until there is a knock at the door. Maybe Sawyer was serious about sending someone with supplies.
I take the few steps from my desk to the door and open it. I’m shocked that it’s Sawyer himself standing on the other side with a bag in his hand.
“Can I come in before I get busted?” I nod, stepping aside.
“I could get fired for this, but fuck it. I know my father knows about us already, so if he was going to fire me he would have done it by now.” I smile. What has come over him?
“I hate seeing you hurt, Amelie.”
I just watch as he unpacks the bag on my bed. Booze. Snacks. And a few other things.
He pours us both a drink in some coffee mugs he brought with him.
“I thought we could watch movies or talk.”
“Talking might be nice.” In hindsight, I might regret opening up, but for now I don’t care; he’s risking a lot being here. “But first you owe me an explanation on why you’re here.”
Sawyer loosens his tie and throws it on my desk unbuttoning his top few buttons, before taking a seat on my bed. I take the spot beside him, careful to keep some distance between us, but I feel the pull as much as he does.
“I used to work with a guy. We would take cars that didn’t belong to us and deliver them to our boss. Whatever he asked for really. It was stupid, but I was young. I was about fourteen when we had an accident. I was driving that night, he was in the passenger seat without his belt on. The rain got heavy and I couldn’t see. The fear I felt when I lost control of that car was nothing compared to when I saw the blood...so much blood. He was dead. It was my fault, and I ended up in Juvenile detention. After a while in there and lots of fights, this man came to see me and offered me a deal of a lifetime.”
“Monty,” I say instinctively, and he nods.
“The rest is history,” he says. “Your turn, what’s going on with you?”
“Besides the obvious that I’m a train wreck?” I turn to face him. “I think I like Kalen more than I should.” His face drops. “Yet I can’t commit to him because I know we have a connection. And the twins may be assholes, but there is something there too. How messed up does that make me?”
“It makes you human,” he says, taking my hand in his. “What about Branson?”
“Nothing happened.” I sigh. “Just a misunderstanding.”
“Sounds like him. Kalen isn’t happy, but give him a few days to calm down. We have family dinner on Sunday. Talk to him then and try to sort everything out.”
He pulls me in for a hug, but it doesn’t last very long before he pulls away.
“In the nicest way possible, I think you need a shower. You smell like you slept in mud.”
“I kind of did, but it’s a long story involving Baxter, the dark and some dogs. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“Okay.”
“Pour me another drink will ya,” I say getting off the bed and heading for my bathroom. I unbutton the shirt with every step and drop it to the floor before looking back at Sawyer. He watches but doesn’t move.
I run the shower as hot as I can, lathering my body in a combination of body wash and shampoo, pulling bits of dirt from my hair. The door opens, and I hear a mug placed on the sink.
“I can’t fight this for today but tomorrow will go back to being the same.”
“Then don’t fight it for today, I need you, Sawyer.” The sound of his belt on the tiles makes me smile. I need him, and I don’t care if he goes back to ignoring me.
Sawyer steps into the shower and he spins me, pushing me into the wall with his body. His hand snakes around my throat, a
slight echo of his father's kitchen.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispers. “And it’s going to be rough.” A moan from my mouth gives him the green light. His teeth bite into the skin on my neck; I know he is marking me and I let him. I welcome it. I’m going to need a reminder of this tomorrow to reassure myself that it wasn’t all a dream.
His hand slips between my legs, between my folds, opening me. Two fingers plunge inside me and I cry out in pleasure.
Our shower doesn’t last. The foreplay is amazing, but I’m too impatient. Sawyer must have the same idea as me because he spins me round to face him and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, reminding me of our make out session outside the pub. He takes us out into my room, his lips not leaving mine, puddles of water soaking into the carpet.
He pulls away
“Condoms?”
“Desk drawer,” I pant.
He takes us to the desk. Holding me with one arm, he swipes the contents of my desk to the floor, the bottle of bourbon included – which thankfully doesn’t smash – and places me on top.
I watch as he retrieves the condom and slides it on. The desk has me at the perfect height to line me up, and he rubs his cock against my clit. I groan at the myriad sensations he’s creating in me.
“Ready?” he asks, and I nod. I can’t explain the feeling that overcomes me when he pushes inside. I lean back and close my eyes as pleasure washes over me. The feeling of fullness is exquisite. He starts slow, a little uneasy, most likely running scenarios through his head.
“Fuck me, Sawyer,” I groan impatiently.
This snaps him out of it and he pulls out of me and moves us to my bed, demanding I get on all fours.
Now we’re talking.
One hand wraps in my hair snapping my head back as his body leans back from mine, causing my back to arch. His free hand grasps my hip with a bruising force, and he thrusts forward then stills himself. He gives me a split second to adjust but being gentle ends there.
His thrusts are deep and sure, every time he pulls back almost to the point of pulling out, before slamming back in to the hilt. The girth of his cock stretches and fills me, making me groan and push back begging for more.
