Spark: A Bad Boy Romance

by Michelle Amy

  He jerked me around in front of him and shook me roughly. My teeth clanked together and I bit my tongue.

  “Don’t fuck with me right now Alice,” he hissed. I could smell alcohol on his breath. It was stale and all too familiar.

  He continued to pull me to the car. He wrenched open the passenger door and crammed me inside. I entertained the idea of locking the doors from the inside as I watched him stomp around the front end. But I didn’t dare. Then he slid into his seat and we started driving.

  “Where are you taking me?” I whispered.

  “Oh, you think you can ask questions? Really Alice? After what you put me through? I’ve been looking for you for almost a month, wondering where you were. I didn’t know if you were safe.”

  Safe.

  He didn’t care if I was safe.

  I sat in silence the rest of the drive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Chris parked in front of a dingy motel my palms started to sweat. He opened the car door for me and I got out without his assistance. He walked me to the second level of the motel and held my wrist as he unlocked the door. Then he pulled me inside and dead bolted the door behind us.

  The motel smelled like bourbon and firewood and cheap deodorant. The room was painted mustard yellow and the bed sheets were a brown floral patterned quilt. The floral pattern was so busy that it took me a moment to realize that there were hundreds of red rose petals all over the bed. The light in the ceiling had one burnt out bulb, so we were in dim lighting that made Chris look all the more insane when he rounded on me and pushed me down on to the bed. My fingers grazed some of the soft petals and I instinctively pushed them away.

  I fought with myself to stay composed. I wanted to cry. I instantly felt the same way I had when I was sitting on the kitchen floor in my old apartment, surrounded by my mother’s broken china set. I felt small, and weak, and pathetic. I felt guilty.

  He pointed a finger at me. “How could you do this to me? After how good I was to you. God damn it, look at me Alice!”

  I flinched as he shouted at me, but I brought my eyes to meet his. I couldn’t stop the tear that I felt trickle down my cheek. He bent over and wiped it away with his thumb. I held his gaze as he cupped my chin in his hand.

  “Answer me,” he demanded.

  “Because you scare me.” My voice was firmer than I had expected.

  That crooked smile that made my skin itch contorted his face. “Do I?”

  “Yes,” I said, pulling my chin out of his grasp. “And you like to scare me. And I deserve more than that. I deserve-”

  The back of his hand collided with my cheek and a pathetic sound escaped my lips. I held a hand to the side of my face and squeezed my eyes closed against the burning.

  “You deserve me,” he growled, grabbing my chin again and dragging my face close to his, forcing me to smell his disgusting breath again. “You deserve me and nothing more. We were made for each other. You, with that perfect body of yours, and me. You don’t get to walk away. You don’t get anything else. This is it for you. Your mother didn’t want you. Your father didn’t want you. But guess who does want you? Me. So you’re all mine.” He licked the side of my face that he had struck and I tried to pull away from him. He shook my chin and pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine.

  I tried to back up. I tried to squirm away. His other hand held the back of my neck tightly and he continued to draw me closer to him. He let go of my chin and used that hand to tear open the front of my shirt. He moaned into my mouth and laughed as I whimpered and tried desperately to escape him.

  No one was coming for me. I had my chance to call for help back at the bar and I didn’t take it. I let him pull me away. I let him load me into his car like I was a bag of groceries, and then I let him bring me into this room where I was entirely alone with him and no one knew where I was. It wasn’t even eleven; Brooke didn’t expect me home for another two hours. Nobody would be looking for me.

  I buried my teeth into his bottom lip and my mouth filled with his blood.

  He shrieked and stumbled away from me holding his mouth. His wild eyes met mine and he watched as I spit a mouthful of his blood on to the brown shag carpet. “You’re not getting your damage deposit back,” I said, proud of the snarl I managed to throw at him. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up from the bed. “If this is how you want it to be, then so be it. But I’m going to fight you the whole way through. I’m going to hurt you every chance I get. And I will never, ever, love you. I will hate you more than I’ve hated anyone and I will remind you every single day how much of a waste of fucking space you are-”

  He came barreling towards me with his shoulder down like a football linebacker. I didn’t have time to get out of the way and his shoulder slammed into my ribs. He knocked me down on to the bed and petals danced up into the air and fell gracefully back down. I put my hands behind my back so he couldn’t pin them above my head. As he tried to reach for my wrists I smashed my knee under his chin. As he tried to scramble off of me I kicked the heel of my boot into his groin.

  He collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the carpet, one hand holding his bloody mouth and the other clutching his family jewels. He made a swipe at my ankles but missed, so I kicked him in the stomach. And then I kicked him again.

  “Okay!” He was shouting, holding his hands up while he curled in on himself. “Okay!” His voice was near hysterics. The sound of it made me mad with satisfaction. I kicked him one more time, just for memory’s sake.

  I bent down and wrapped my fingers in his hair and wrenched his head back so he was staring up at me. “If you ever come near me again, Christopher, I’m going to kill you. Do you understand me?”

  I could see the battle raging behind his eyes. He wanted to tell me off. He wanted to tell me that he wasn’t afraid of me and that he would do whatever he damn well pleased. But he was reading my eyes, and they were daring him to challenge me. To test me. I had tasted power for the first time and it didn’t scare me. It fit me like a glove.

  “Alright,” he muttered.

  “Pardon?”

  “Alright!”

  I let his head fall and stood again. I stared down at him for what felt like several minutes. It was probably fifteen seconds. But I stood nonetheless, staring at the bloodied mess I had made of the man I feared more than anything. I grabbed my purse which was lying on the ground a couple feet away and fished out my cell phone.

  “Oh hey there,” Jack’s voice came from the speaker. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so early. Aren’t you working?”

  “I’m supposed to be,” I answered, watching Chris lay on the floor. He was looking up at me incredulously. “I ended up at a sleazy motel off the highway. I don’t know what it’s called. It has a blue neon sign and a picture of a dragonfly on it. Do you know the one?”

  “Yeah. It’s called The Dragonfly.”

  Well, that made sense. I laughed. “Of course. Would you be able to pick me up?”

  “Uh. Yeah. Sure. I can be there in fifteen.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you outside.”

  “Is everything okay, Alice?”

  I looked down at Chris again and couldn’t stop myself from grinning like a crazy woman. “Oh yeah. Everything is awesome. I’ll explain the whole thing when you get here. Over a drink. Or two.”

  “You got it.” He hung up the phone and I looked around the room. I looked at the blood on the carpet. Some of it was on my shirt and my chest. I looked at Chris on the ground. I looked at the petals on the bed.

  I went to the door and wrenched it open. There was a cool wind outside that blew in and I took a deep breath of the fresh air. I turned back and watched as Chris put a hand on the bed and lifted himself to sit on it. “You know, Chris. No amount of rose petals will ever make a girl love you.”

  Then I closed the door. I leaned against it for a moment and stared out at the parking lot and the highway. It was dark, and headlights were flying by. I took the s
tairs down and went to wait on the bench I had seen by one of the vending machines on the ground floor. Right before I sat down my eyes wandered over to Chris’ black SUV. I unzipped my purse and started rummaging through it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Jack showed up he was stepping out of his car before he had even parked. His eyes were fixed on me sitting on the bench and he covered the distance between us in a few hurried strides. He bent in front of me and cupped my chin in his hand.

  His touch was so gentle, so kind, and so soothing’. He turned my face away from him and stared at my cheek with a furrowed brow and clenched jaw. “Did someone hit you?” He asked.

  “It shows already?”

  “What the hell happened, Alice? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? What do you need? Jesus Christ-”

  “Jack, I’m fine, relax.” My words didn’t ease his concern. His eyes were hard and reminded me of the way he had looked back at the Red Rose when he beat up the four guys. He was staring at my cheek and the traces of makeup I was sure were running down to my jaw.

  “Who did this?” He was demanding that I answer him. His voice was hard.

  “It doesn’t matter, I handled it.”

  “Alice, please. Tell me.”

  I bit my bottom lip. I thought back to how he had told me everything that happened when he was in juvie. I thought of how honest he had been and how hard it had been for him to utter each and every word. “It was Chris,” I confessed.

  New anger surged through him. “Where is he?”

  I smiled. “Listen to me, I don’t need you to go in there and fight for me. Not this time. I took care of it. Please, believe me.”

  “Took care of it? He hit you.” Jack snarled.

  “I know, and I did more damage to him than he did to me.”

  “What?” His eyes flicked back and forth between mine as they swam with confusion.

  I laughed. The sound surprised him. “I kicked his ass, Jack.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Really. And I’ve never felt so good before. I’m not afraid of him anymore. And he’s not going to bother me anymore. Not ever. Not even in my nightmares.”

  Jack still seemed unsettled. I couldn’t blame him. He desperately wanted to make Chris pay for what he had done.

  “Seriously. I’m more than fine. I need two things.” I held up two of my fingers.

  “Okay, he nodded, “anything. Just name it.”

  “A kiss.” I said. “A really good kiss.”

  He didn’t hesitate. Our lips touched and he kissed me with such softness. It washed away the feeling of Chris’ lips on mine instantly. He held me to him as his tongue explored me and I could feel the worry in every movement he made. When he pulled away his thumbs caressed the side of my cheek. “And the second thing?”

  “Take me anywhere that isn’t here.”

  He offered me a hand and I stood. We went to his car and he opened my door for me. I watched him walk around the front of the car, like I had watched Chris moments before. And I watched as he stopped. He had spotted Chris’ SUV. Jack continued around the hood and got into the driver’s seat. He started the car and the glanced at me. He pointed a thumb out the window at Chris’ car. “Is that your handiwork?”

  I pulled my lipstick from my pocket, pulled the lid off, and grinned. I had used it all up. In the fifteen minutes it had taken for Jack to arrive, I had taken the liberty to decorate the SUV that was Chris’ pride and joy. What I wrote (and drew) is for my memory. And Chris’. And Jack’s.

  It was worth the forty five dollar tube of lipstick that I tossed out the window as Jack tore out onto the highway and took me anywhere but there.

  The Following is a preview of Michelle Amy’s new Bad Boy romance Switch. The following preview is intended for mature audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I knew it was time to leave when Carly toppled over on her barstool and landed on the ground like a crumpled pretzel. I squeezed by the two guys at the bar who were helping her to her feet and hooked an arm in hers. I turned to the guys and gave them my best smile.

  “I’ve got her from here, boys, thank you!”

  They exchanged a glance and looked back at me. I wasn’t sure if they were deciding to protest, or if they were assessing whether or not I was sober enough to get her home safely. I prayed it was the latter.

  When they gave me a curt nod and moved aside I thanked them again. I braced Carly’s weight on my right hip and wrapped her arm over my shoulder. As we wove through the bar we received a couple cat calls and some sympathetic glances from other girls sitting at tables. We’ve all had a night like Carly was having. Girls with low tolerances for hard alcohol and an uncanny ability to get in one last shot of tequila before close.

  We stumbled out of the pub and out on to the sidewalk. Carly was giggling like a fool on my hip.

  “You are the best,” she said, her voice slurring. “Like really, Veronica, the best.”

  “Yeah, you’ll change your mind in the morning when I’m grinding coffee.”

  “No I won’t, I love coffee. Will you make me coffee?”

  “Of course.”

  She resorted to humming under her breath as we crossed the street and hooked a right, heading for my apartment. It was just past midnight and the streets were starting to slow down to a lazy pace. The occasional car drove by and we walked by a couple out for a late night stroll with their dog.

  As we headed further up the block and took a left, the lazy buzz of the busier street faded away to the quietness of my neighborhood. I listened to the hum of the street lights that flickered like unreliable fireflies above. The houses that lined the streets we duplicate three story narrow homes; all were painted in pale pastel colours that looked muted and old in the night.

  As we came around the final bend and began to walk down the sidewalk of my street, the sound of voices fell upon my ears. There was a black sedan parked across the street. There was a man leaning on the hood with his arms folded. He wore an oversized sweatshirt that fell nearly halfway to his knees. There were three other men with him. Two were rough housing. At first I thought they were fighting, but when I heard their laughter my anxiety lessened. They shoved each other back and forth while the man leaning against the hood egged them on.

  The last man stood separated from the others. He was lighting a cigarette and had an arm draped over the wooden fence of the front yard of the house they were in front of. The amber glow from his cigarette and lighter illuminated his face for the briefest moment, and I was certain that his eyes were watching Carly and me.

  Carly mumbled that she felt like she was going to be sick.

  “Now is not the time,” I said, “keep it together. We’re almost home.”

  My plea went unanswered. She pitched forward onto the lawn of the house we were passing and puked her guts out on her hands and knees.

  I crouched beside her and put my hand on her back. I cast an uneasy glance behind us at the four men. We had all of their attention now. “I’m not trying to freak you out, Car, but we need to get out of here.”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at me over her shoulder. “I… I take it back, you’re not the best. I don’t want to walk anymore, just… just let me die here.”

  Her drunken stupor had left her witless. I bit the inside of my cheek as she hurled again. Across the street, the men were huddled together and talking and pointing at us.

  Worry bloomed within me and I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. My hand on Carly’s back began nervously tapping her, to which she responded with an angry mumble and a clumsy swatting of my hand.

  The men stepped off the curb and started across the street. The one at the back tossed his cigarette on the road and put it out with his boot. I watched them come, hopelessly trapped by those damn tequila shots.

  They hopped up on to the sidewalk behind us. The largest one, the one who had been leaning on th
e hood of the sedan, came and stood beside us on the grass. “Your friend isn’t looking too good.” His voice held the drawl of ignorant confidence.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” I quipped back.

  He laughed and the others joined him. The worry that had built up in me was morphing into something more real: fear. I didn’t like this. Carly’s back heaved beneath my hand as she was sick again. A whimper escaped her lips as she sulked in her own misery, completely unaware of the threat that loomed over us.

  “We don’t need any help,” I said, my voice loud enough for all of them to hear me. “You can go.”

  The one who had spoken before splayed his fingers out wide to feign innocence. “Oh, calm down now girlie, nobody’s doing nothing wrong here. Don’t get your panties in a wad about it.” He elbowed the guy standing beside her and pointed his chin at me. “Pretty, ain’t she?”

  I regretted the low cut top with cut outs in the shoulders. I regretted the red lipstick and the strappy heels that showed off my pink toenails. I shrank away from him. Carly looked up at me and followed my gaze over her shoulder and to the men.

  She twisted all the way around and sank down on the grass. Her hand grabbed my wrist.

  “You’re not bad either,” the man said, and the others chuckled some more. He crouched down in front of us and his hooded eyes lingered on me. “I must confess, you are exactly my type.” He rested his chin in one hand and licked his lip.

  “If you come any closer to me I’ll scream,” I said, ignoring Carly’s tightening grip on my wrist.

  He laughed again, apparently not rattled at all by my threat. “Definitely my type. You want to go for a ride in the car? We’ve got heated seats and some drinks in there. You could do a bump. What do you say?”

  I shook my head. No words came to mind that would suffice to explain exactly how much I didn’t want to get in the car with them.