The Marriage Pact (Viral Series)

by Mara White

  “I keep the ring on because I gained weight when he left and now it won’t come off,” she said in a rush, as she pulled back off of his length. He pressed forward again and this time used his palm against the back of her head to see how far she could take it. He pinched her nipples with his fingers until she was writhing on the couch.

  “I haven’t been with anybody since—” he silenced her with another stroke of his cock. “This, the John Coltrane, is from his record collection,” he stroked forward again and cut her off. Her mouth was perfect, full lips, so hot and so wet. “I swear to God he loved that record collection more than he ever did me.” He wanted to ejaculate in her mouth, all over her breasts. “I’m not giving anything back until his gives up custody of the cat.”

  This girl was perfect, the absolute very best catch, wore a wedding ring, needed a rebound fuck. He imaginarily patted his own back for such a conquest. Perfect to make Jackie jealous, she met all of the requirements.

  “I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop soon,” he said. He was grabbing her hair. Maybe a little rougher than he’d normally be for a hookup, but this girl was really into it.

  “You can,” she said, this time muffled around his cock.

  “You’re beautiful, Laurie. Maybe he didn’t deserve you.” Ryan was feeling generous. He wanted to exchange kind words for how hospitable she was being with her body.

  “Me? Look at you. Fuck, you look like Ashton Kutcher with a six pack.” She rolled the condom on his now engorged and spasming cock. Laurie lie back on the couch and spread her legs for him. He could see she was swollen and wet even from where he was kneeling. He ran two fingers up her wet folds and Laurie arched and threw her head back in response. Her eyes widened in wonder when he took those same two fingers, coated in her arousal and put them in his mouth.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered. Ryan let his body weight fall forward along the length of her. She moaned when his cock hit her stomach and her hips rose in anticipation. He pulled back and in the same swift move, slid all the way into her.

  He awoke at dawn, face smooshed into the couch cushions, mouth parched, a jack hammer rat tat tat tating his brain. He groaned, lamented and cursed, flipped on his back and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

  “Fuck me,” he said, echoing the only thing he remembered from last night. Please tell me I didn’t drunk dial Jackie. Please tell me I didn’t tell her I loved her. Please tell me I didn’t cry about Jackie after I fucked the other girl.

  He thought about how much his silent prayer would piss off his minister father. Don’t take God’s glory for granted. Don’t ask for what you don’t need. Prayer is a daily exercise, not last minute room order. His father’s creed ran through his mind and probably his blood.

  Why was Jackie so messed up? Why couldn’t he give her the righteous ultimatum and tell her that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her. Exclusive. No one else, but him and her and their crazy, infuriating chemistry.

  “Morning, Sunshine!” Laurie peeked around the corner from her kitchen. She was holding a spatula, wearing nothing but an apron.

  Ryan groaned again, louder than he had intended. He put the heels of his palms over his eyes and tried to rub away the regret. Jackie played him for a fool—she’d gone to the level of flat-out torturing him. His skin felt hot and itchy, too tight to contain his mood, as he battled visions in his head of that asshole from the bar laying claim to her body.

  “I made pancakes,” Laurie sing-songed from the kitchen.

  “I think I’m too hungover,” Ryan said, with the most positive voice he could muster in his condition.

  “Fried eggs?” she retorted. He hoped she believed in casual sex, he hoped she hadn’t gotten her hopes up.

  In his heart, Ryan belonged to only one girl. A maddening, difficult, childish and reckless woman that she was. He wanted to call Jackie but he was swamped with both anger and grief. He wanted to let Laurie down kindly because she was just coming off of a rough spot. He wanted to erase last night and stand up to Jackie’s sick games, but most of all, he want to tame the raging boner that was tenting his underwear.

  Ryan flipped back over, stuck his face in the crack exactly where it had been. He knew because of the drool spot and the indentation his face had made. He put one hand on his cock that had taken a hell of a ride.

  “She drives me fucking crazy!” he said into the recesses of Laurie’s couch and within five minutes, was knocked the hell out.

  Ryan woke back up around ten. Laurie had left and put a note on the door with her phone number at the bottom. She was at the library studying, enjoyed his company, would love it if he came back for more. He grabbed a cold pancake and munched on it unenthusiastically as he read the note, peeked in her fridge and poured himself a glass of cold water. If he could get ready before eleven, chances were that Jackie would still be hanging out at the Starbucks on State Street, studying or surfing the internet while listening to music with his headphones. He started rushing, he found his pants in a pile of discarded clothing on the floor, yanked his dirty T-shirt over his head, it still contained a fraction of Jackie’s perfume mixed with that of the virtual stranger he’s slept with. He had the urge to call his mother, blurt out a confession to someone. He could call Scotty, or maybe Andres who always seemed to understand and have great advice about women.

  But he realized, in the very depth of himself, that the only person he wanted to talk to, to share his feelings with, to confide his anger about last night to, was Jackie herself.

  He called a cab, rushed outside and asked the driver to floor it. Showered, brushed his teeth vigorously and drank a half gallon of water. He didn’t bother to shave, but threw on a thick flannel and a wool stocking cap. He jogged outside and jumped a bus heading toward campus. He vowed to tell her every single thing that he felt. If Jack couldn’t handle it, then she wasn’t the right one for him—hell bent or not. He had a feeling rejection was coming, the biggest and hardest one of his life.

  And he knew that the reason behind all of her actions was fear. He knew it would suck. He knew he’d never forget her. But he also knew that he’d never felt so low in his life, -so dirty, so disappointed, so heartbroken—he felt like a goddamned low-life.

  It dawned on him as he was scrubbing off Laurie in the shower, that Jackie’s game had been a desperate call. A sad and tragic and very confused plea—she’d wanted him to refuse, to pledge his love to her and only her and put a stop to her twisted game. But for whatever reason, because he was too cowardly or too sullen or too proud to stop her, he’d let her put her own safety at risk and he’d watched it, let it transpire right in front of him. To him, it meant that their relationship was unhealthy, it was destined to explode and burn and they needed to get out of it.

  He could already see her through the glass as he jogged across the street. Long hair tied up in a red bandana, fucking flip-flops on her feet.

  Ryan was going to have to break up with her and he’d have to make it quick—not let in her excuses or the way she easily manipulated his heart because of how much it responded to her. It was going to hurt. In the worst way imaginable. But he swiped, pushed the button and her smiling face popped up and the phone dialed her number. She looked at her phone, picked it up and as she did, her gaze fell upon him out the window. He dropped his own phone, saw peripherally as it smashed to pieces at his feet. Jackie was there, with her Venti, phone to her ear and laptop open, and one hell of a shiner decorating her beautiful face.

  Chapter 11

  Jackie

  “That is so exciting, Mia,” Jackie said.

  “I know. Angel and I are going out for a joyride after dinner to celebrate.”

  Jackie laughed but worried, too. “You just got your license. Like, hours ago. Can you please just promise me that you’ll be safe?”

  Mia sighed on the other end of the line. “Yeah, Debbie Downer, I will be safe.”

  Jackie spotted Ryan through the cafe window. She knew from his face he w
as about to do something stupid. “Crap, Mia, I gotta go.” Jackie hung up the call. Looked at her phone and realized he’d been calling her. She packed up her stuff, crammed it all into her backpack in a rush, grabbed her coffee and stood. She was almost to the door when he burst in. She held up a hand in front of her to stop him. Maneuvering around her coffee cup, he scooped her up into his arms. The Starbucks customers whooped and ah’d at the gesture but she knew better. She looped her free arm around his neck and kept her coffee close to her chest.

  “You think that was going to fly?” he barked at her.

  Jackie laughed. Outright laughed, basically right in his face. “Put me down, caveman.”

  “You’re underdressed and bruised. I’ll put you down when it’s safe to.”

  She sighed. “Please, Ry, put me down.” She held her coffee up and pleaded with her eyes.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s weird having you carry me in public,” she said.

  “No. Why did this happen?” he screamed, staring at her black eye. He set her down but didn’t release her. His hands locked on her shoulders, he gave her a pointed and painful look.

  “I didn’t plan it. It’s not like I said, ‘Hey, why don’t you punch me for shits and giggles?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. Frustrated, Jackie got defensive. She pushed out of his hands, tossed her coffee in the snow bank and drilled her fists into her hips. “Listen, we’re friends. We’re friends with benefits. It’s cool as long as both of us stay cool. You are not being cool.”

  “Fuck that! As a friend, I’m horrified someone hit you,” he shouted.

  “Yeah, but you’re acting more jealous than concerned,” she said.

  Ryan ran his hands through his hair. He only did that when he was really upset. “Please, cut me some slack,” he said before he grabbed her hands.

  She tugged her hands from his. “I think before we screw this up,” she said and pointed between them, “we should go back to just friends.”

  Ryan swallowed thickly. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “Is that what you really want?”

  Jackie most certainly did not want that. Not at all. But it was the only solution she could come up with. She valued Ryan more than her own life and without being able to commit to an exclusive relationship, friends was better than the muddied friends with benefits deal.

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck you, Jackie,” he whispered. His words stung. Cut even. Deep in the recesses of her heart, she felt those words like a slap across the face. When he turned and stomped away from her, she allowed two tears to spill over before she wiped them away, picked up her backpack and jogged to her room.

  Jackie was freezing when she finally made it into her building. She took the stairs two at a time to get her blood flowing. Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out her room key and jammed it in the lock. Her mood was dark. She and Ryan had never fought before—not really—and now she felt like she’d just lost him.

  “Deanna, you whore! Who was that?” Jackie asked as an incredibly attractive guy walked out of their room. Deanna blushed and rolled her eyes.

  “Shh,” she tsked.

  “Please, like he doesn’t know he’s hot.” Jackie laughed and dropped her bag on her bed.

  “Speaking of hot, where’s Ryan?”

  She looked over her shoulder at Deanna while she pulled out her laptop. “Uh, he’s kinda pissed at me right now.”

  Deanna wrinkled her face. “Ryan. Mad. At you? Ha! That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. That boy would do anything for you.” When Jackie turned around, Deanna’s eyes widened. “Make that two of us,” she said, while crossing her arms over her chest. Jackie frowned.

  “It was a fun night gone wrong. That’s all,” she explained.

  “What kind of gone wrong looks like that?” she pointed at Jackie’s black eye.

  “The kind that ends with me saying no. The kind that goes like . . . the guy doesn’t like the word no. The kind that ends with me fighting to leave. Fucking Nelson Ahole-Clark.”

  “Why do you even play these games? It’s stupid, dangerous and hurts Ryan.”

  Jackie hung her head. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Deanna approached as if Jackie were a wounded animal-skittish and leery. She wrapped her arms around her and Jackie found herself giving in. A momentary lapse. She hugged Deanna back. “It was a shitty night. It was even shittier having Ryan see my face.”

  “Why do you two play these pointless games?”

  Jackie removed herself from Deanna’s grip and sat on her bed. “I don’t know. He’s my person. My everything. If we date, it would mess that up. It always does. He’s better than me, Dee,” she said. “He’s like a church guy and everything. He really cares and caring only leads to broken hearts.”

  Deanna shook her head. “You’re impossible, you know that? If you two keep this up, it will mess it up anyway. He will walk, Jackie. A man can only take so much for so long.”

  Jackie groaned and fell back on her bed. She knew Deanna was right. She loved every single stupid thing about Ryan. The way he laughed, the way he stared at her, the way he held her hand, made her laugh and let her take his clothes. But sex messed things up. When people fell in love, there was the possibility for them to hurt you, abandon you, leave you a discarded shell of yourself. She didn’t want that for herself or him. She kicked off her shoes and curled up. She didn’t want to think about last night or Ryan or Deanna. She wanted to sleep off all the anger, confusion and hurt she felt.

  “Goddammit woman, will you answer your phone?” Deanna sounded pissed. Jackie rubbed her eyes and slapped her hand around on her desk before she finally found the dorm phone.

  “Hello?” she said. She was groggy and still half asleep.

  “Is this Jacqueline Bowen?”

  “Are you for real? It’s one a.m.,” Jackie spit.

  “I’m sorry, it’s an emergency. Is this the right number?”

  Jackie sat up in bed. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “There’s been a car accident. Angel and Mia Bowen were brought to St. Mary’s Hospital,” the voice said.

  Jackie’s heart hammered in her chest. “Are they alright?”

  “Ma’am, we’re not allowed to give out details over the phone but if you could come as soon as possible, that would be appreciated.”

  “Okay.” Jackie shot out of her bed, slid into her flip-flops and a hoodie on autopilot. Deanna was asking questions that Jackie didn’t have the bandwidth to answer.

  “I need your car. It’s an emergency.” Her voice almost cracked but she managed to hold it together. Without waiting for Deanna’s reply she snatched the keys from the hook and left.

  As she drove, her father’s phone went to the answering machine with every call. Jackie cursed as she sped. She tried her sisters’ cells but they went to voicemail, too. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. She couldn’t breathe. She could hardly see through her tears. Fear gripped her chest and squeezed. She knew she should probably pull over—it wasn’t safe driving in the state she was in—but she couldn’t pull her foot from the gas pedal. Her thoughts went to her father. Was he at the hospital or sleeping still? Were Mia and Angel hurt or just scared? She couldn’t slow the onslaught of ideas that hit her. The roads were slick and twice now she’d slid momentarily across the highway.

  When she reached the hospital four hours later, she pulled up to the valet area, threw the car in park and tossed the keys to the valet attendant as she ran past him. The doors made a suction sound as they opened, warm air blasted her, sending her hair whirling around her face. With both hands, she smoothed it back. She reached the patient registration desk and blurted out “Mia and Angel Bowen.” The woman working the desk was painfully slow but when she finally looked up her face was contorted. Jackie’s stomach dropped. She paged a doctor one the phone at her desk.

  “You just wait right here and the doctor will come and get you.”


  “Why? Why can’t I just go to their room or whatever?” she asked.

  The woman shook her head. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  Seconds ticked by that felt like hours. The passing time hurt, an acute pain like grinding broken glass into open wounds. Jackie paced the floor. Sitting was out of the question. Her hands were fisted in tight balls at her sides. She was exhausted and amped up simultaneously. Finally someone approached and called out her name. She turned to the white coat and blinked. A woman stood next to him in an ugly blouse and khakis.

  “Let’s sit,” the doctor said.

  “I’m fine. Where are my sisters?”

  “Ms. Bowen—”

  “Jackie.”

  “This is Serena Donaldson. She’s here to help you in any way. Your sisters, Angel and Mia, were in a car accident tonight.”

  “Where are they?” Jackie yelled. She wasn’t above punching someone in the face to get answers.

  “They didn’t survive. They both passed before they arrived here.”

  Jackie’s world spun wildly. The walls tilted and she couldn’t distinguish up from down. Someone reached out and held her arm. Was she pulling them down or were they holding her up?

  “Ms. Bowen?”

  Jackie was certain her heart exploded inside her chest. She screamed and slid to her knees. Someone mumbled near her but she heard no words. Her babies. Her sisters. Her family.

  “Ms. Bowen, why don’t we sit?”

  Jackie snapped to attention.

  “Why don’t you fucking sit, if you want to so badly?! I’m not sitting, I’m not sitting down, okay!?” She ran six steps then stopped. Where was she going?

  “Ms. Bowen, come sit. We have things we need to discuss.”

  She twirled around.

  “I want to see my sisters,” she cried out. Tears were blurring her sight.

  The woman nodded. “Yes, we will need you to identify them.” A chill crept up her spine and she felt sick to her stomach. Blackness was encroaching on her carefully reconstructed world.