by Gina Finley
“I already ate,” I lie.
“I didn’t,” he says. “Come in.”
He turns and walks back inside.
I think about jumping on the bike and leaving.
But I can’t. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
So I follow him inside.
It’s not a pool house as much as it is just a small guest house. Living room. Kitchen. Bar. I know there’s a bedroom because I was in it. I didn’t take notice of much of it last night because my head was spinning, but I see it all now. Movie posters on the walls. Books scattered about. He clearly lives here and I wonder why when the gigantic ass house is just up the hill.
There are cartons of Chinese food on the bar, along with two plates. He walks to the fridge. “You want something to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
He pulls out a beer, rips the cap off, and sets it on the counter. “Help yourself if you change your mind.” He nods at the barstools. “Sit.”
I’m not sure if it’s an invitation or a command, but I take the furthest one away from his and sit.
He laughs as he sits down. “I’m not going to bite.” He looks at me. “Unless you want me to.”
“What am I doing here?”
He reaches for the chopsticks next to one of the cartons. “Well, I thought you were going to be eating dinner.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Relax,” he says, spilling some of the rice onto his plate.
“Don’t tell me to relax,” I say. “You blackmailed me into coming here. Last night, you had Whitney assault me. I saw you and your friends with guns break into someone’s house. You fucking kidnapped me and brought me back here. Then you told me if I said anything or didn’t come back tonight, you’d make sure my dad lost his job. So don’t tell me to relax.”
He pulls what looks like beef and broccoli out of the carton and spreads it over the rice. “I guess that’s accurate.” He looks at me. “And I would really suggest you forget about last night. It’s in your best interest. I don’t care if it’s just you and me here. The quicker you forget last night, the better off you’ll be.”
“I’m not going to forget last night,” I tell him. “Ever. You don’t want me to tell anyone? Fine, I won’t. I told you I won’t. But I’m not going to forget it. And then that shit at school today. You defend me with Whitney? And with that Jason guy? And you bring my bike here? What the fuck is actually happening?”
He takes his time eating some of the food and taking a long drink from the beer. Then he looks at me. “What’s happening is that I’m trying to get to know you now so I can figure out if I can trust you. Just like I told you. You’re free to leave anytime.”
“And if I do?”
He shrugs. “Guess you’ll find out.”
He’s fucking maddening.
But I’m too afraid to leave so I don’t move.
“I take it that means you’re staying,” he says.
I don’t say anything.
He laughs. “That’s what I thought.” He picks up the beer again. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding?”
I sigh. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to tell me.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Fine. I moved here with my dad this summer. I just started at Diamond Cove. There you go.”
“Where did you move from?” he asks.
“St. Louis,” I tell him.
“Is that where you were born?”
“No.”
“Where was that?”
“Charlotte.”
“Where’s your mom?”
“Dead and in the ground,” I tell him.
He fusses with the chopsticks. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Are we done with the interview now?”
“No, because I’m not done eating,” he says. “You get along with your dad?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like riding a bike?”
“No.”
“Did it feel good to hit Whitney?”
“Yes.”
He laughs. “I’ll bet it did.”
I look around the room. “You live out here by yourself?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t like the house.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t,” he says. “More private back here. I can do what I want. No one tells me what to do.”
I can’t imagine anyone ever telling him what to do.
“Do you swim?” he says.
“Uh, yeah,” I say. “I can swim.”
He drains the beer, closes up the cartons, and disappears down the hallway. He returns thirty seconds later without a shirt and holding something red in his hands. His bare chest is a slab of chiseled muscle and I have to force myself to look away.
He holds out his hand. “Put this on.”
I realize the red thing is a bikini. “That’s not mine.”
“It’s new,” he says. “It’s clean. Put it on.”
There’s an edge to his voice again and it sets my nerves on fire. “I take it we’re going swimming.”
He nods.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask.
“Down the hall,” he says. “But you’re changing right here.”
“What?”
“Saw nearly all of you last night,” he says. “Won’t be much different now.”
“No.”
He smiles. “Cara. Put it on.”
There’s something behind the smile, something both evil and dark and sexy and I’m paralyzed for a moment. I don’t understand how I can both be wondering what it would be like to touch his chest and terrified of him at the same time. He’s in my head and I hate it.
“I won’t touch you,” he says. “But you’re changing right here. Do it now.”
I swallow and unbutton my jeans and push them down, then step out of them. I unzip my sweatshirt and slip out of it, then pull my shirt off. I’m back in my bra and underwear, just like last night. And he’s making no attempt to not look at me.
Fuck him.
I’m not going to be afraid.
I unsnap my bra and let it fall to the floor. “You like that?”
“Very much so.”
I take a quick breath and push my underwear down over my hips and let it slide to my ankles. I step out of it. “Happy now?”
He licks his lips and nods.
I pull on the bikini bottoms. They barely cover my ass. Because of course. I get the top on across my boobs, but I can’t get it tied behind my neck.
“Turn around,” he says.
I turn around.
His hands are on my shoulders and I do my best not to shiver. He takes the strings from hands and ties it around my neck. “That feel okay?”
My heart hammers. “Yeah.” I turn back around. He’s right there, looming over me. Jesus, he smells like everything good and I could lick ice cream off that chest. “Now what?”
He looks me up and down. “Let’s go for a swim.”
TWENTY
Dash
I’ll give her this.
If she’s scared, she’s not showing up.
When she stands there naked in front of me, almost daring me to do something, it’s all I can do to not throw her to the ground and fuck her until she passes out. Her tits are perfect and her ass is just begging to be slapped.
But we’re not there yet.
So instead I lead her out to the pool and I dive in ahead of her. I come up for air and she’s still standing on the edge.
“It’s heated,” I tell her. “You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t dive,” she says, walking to the edge, then coming in via the stairs. The water shimmers around her as she glides into it.
“They don’t have pools in St. Louis or Charlotte?”
“They do,” she says. “But I don’t dive. Too afraid of hitting my head.”
“Fair.” I swim over to the edge. The sky is dark and the lights are on the water. The ocean is black down below. “Come look at this.”
She wades over to where I am, the water coming up to her chest.
I point out in the distance. “See that strip of lights?”
She nods.
“That’s Mexico,” I tell her. “That entire strip of land is another country. I always think it’s cool that I can see that from here.”
“Have you been there?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Bunch of times. My dad owns a couple of houses down there. Once in Cabo, one in Cancun. Or, I think it’s a hotel in Cancun. I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.”
“He owns a lot of shit.”
“Then why do you need to steal shit?”
I look at her.
“Look, if you’re going to fucking blackmail me, I’m going to ask questions,” she says. “You want to build trust, this is how it’s done. I’m gonna ask questions when shit doesn’t make sense. Get used to it or let me go home.”
“You can go home whenever–”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ve already done that dance,” she says. “I’m not looking to do it again. I get it. But I’m here and we both know why. So my question is why, when you live in a fucking mansion and your father owns too many houses or hotels to keep track, do you need to be sneaking around in the middle of the night and breaking into people’s houses?”
I laugh. She’s different from what I expected. She’s braver than she let on last night.
I like that.
“How do you know we stole anything?” I ask.
“Come on,” she says, leaning against the edge of the pool. “You guys were dressed like movie villains and carrying fucking guns. I saw you go into that house. The fuck else would you have been doing?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“You brought me here.”
I look at her. “I do it because I can. Because sometimes I get bored. Because sometimes I’m pissed off. Because sometimes it feels good.”
“What about you friends?”
“My friends do what I tell them,” I say.
“It seems like everyone does.”
“They do,” I tell her. “Because they know I’ll make their lives miserable if they don’t.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why make people miserable?” she asks. “What’s in that for you?”
I look at her. Water beads on her shoulders and neck. She’s dropped in a little further.
“Maybe that’s just who I am,” I tell her.
She thinks about that, then nods. “Maybe. But why’d you’d get in Jason’s face today?”
“Because he was messing with you,” I tell her. “And right now, you’re mine. No one else’s. No one’s going to mess with you unless I tell them to. And no one is going to fucking go near you unless they want me breathing down their neck.”
I look at her and think she’ll look away. But she doesn’t. She holds my gaze. She’s absolutely beautiful. Porcelain skin. Hair like the night.
“Because I know your secret,” she says.
“In part,” I say. “But I also think you’re...interesting.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you don’t seem afraid,” I tell her. “Because you’re beautiful. And you seem smart.”
She looks away toward the ocean down below. “I’m not sure any of those things are true.”
“They are,” I tell her. “Trust me, they are.”
She lays her hands flat on the surface of the water. “My mom used to tell me those things. I don’t hear them much anymore, so they’re harder to believe.” She glances at me. “And that’s not me fishing for compliments. That’s just me stating a fact.”
I nod. “Understandable. I can relate to that.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “You can? How?”
“My mother’s dead, too,” I tell her. “She’s been gone for several years and she was the one who would...tell me things I needed to hear.”
She eyes me, curious for a long moment. “I’m sorry. That she’s gone.”
“Me, too,” I say. “But what can you do? Can’t change it or fix it. You move on. Right?”
She hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. But you don’t forget. And it still hurts.”
I smile at her. “I do my best to avoid that.”
She nods again. “I think I’m starting to see that.”
For a moment, I feel something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Like I’ve shared too much. Like I’ve pulled the curtain back without realizing it. I don’t like feeling vulnerable. And I’m not sure why I’ve said what I’ve just said to Cara.
I need to put the curtain back in place.
“What exactly do you want from me?” she asks.
“I don’t know yet,” I answer. “When I do, I’ll take it.”
She raises her eyebrow at me. It’s sexy as hell. “That right?”
“You think you can stop me?”
She doesn’t answer and looks back toward the ocean.
Voices drift down toward us from the house above. She turns and looks in that direction. “What’s that?”
I smile at her. “The next part of our evening.”
TWENTY ONE
Cara
It’s weird.
I’ve been sort of enjoying this. Being in the pool with him. Talking to him. Learning that his mom is gone, too. For a few minutes, everything seems normal and it’s almost like we’re on a date.
But then I hear the voices and he tells me that it’s the next part of the evening and I’m back on edge.
The voices grow louder up near the house and I hear some laughter. Then I see Shane come down the path, his shaved head gleaming in the moonlight, his broad shoulders shoved inside of a tight, gray T-shirt. Tyler is behind him, his dark hair perfectly brushed to the side, laughing. Then I see Fox behind him.
And he’s walking next to Jason Miner.
My stomach tightens.
“Relax,” Dash whispers. “He will not hurt you. Ever.”
I don’t know what to make of that, but I can feel myself drifting closer to him in the pool, like I need his protection. I stop myself, pissed that I’m even feeling that way.
“Dude,” Tyler says, grinning. “What’s going on?”
“Not much,” Dash says. “We all having a good time?”
Tyler and Fox laugh. Shane stands near the edge of the pool, expressionless. Jason is laughing, but he seems nervous. His eyes are a little wide and the laugh seems forced.
“Told Jason you wanted to set things straight,” Fox says, smiling. “He wasn’t sure he wanted to come, but we convinced him.”
Dash nods, staring at Jason, but not saying anything.
Jason seems to take notice that I’m here for the first time and he blinks a couple of times.
“Hey,” he says, not to anyone in particular. “Yeah. Guys said you wanted to make things right.”
Dash nods. “That’s right. I do.”
Jason laughs again. “And they shared some of that coke with me. Said it was yours. So I guess I should thank you for it. Dude, that shit is dope.” He laughs one more time. “Literally.”
Dash smiles, but says nothing and it’s quiet again.
Jason looks around. “So, uh, what’s the deal? And I didn’t know...she was gonna be here.”
“She’s definitely here,” Dash says. “Here’s the deal. I need you to choose. Left or right?”
Jason’s face screws up with confusion. “What?”
“Left or right?” Dash asks again.
“I...I don’t know what you’re asking, dude,” Jason says.
“I’m asking which hand do you want it to be,” Dash tells him. “Your left hand or your right hand?”
I look at him the same way Jason does, confused.
“What?” Jason asks.
Fox takes him by
the arm and no one’s laughing now. Jason tries to break free, but he can’t. Tyler takes his other arm. Jason tries again to jerk free, but Tyson and Fox are stronger.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Jason says, still trying to get free.
Shane walks toward him and unloads the quickest punch I’ve ever seen into Jason’s stomach. His arm is like a jackhammer, shooting out and catching Jason square in the midsection. Jason’s eyes bulge and his mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His knees buckle and Tyson and Fox ease him down to the ground. Shane takes a step back, then buries his boot into Jason’s stomach again and Jason falls face first to the pool deck.
I’m not sure how to feel.
On one hand, I’ve never seen anyone just pummeled like that and I’m shocked.
But on the other hand, I think about how he made me feel at school today. How he tried to physically intimidate me. How he put a hand on me.
I don’t mind seeing him in pain.
Dash moves around me toward the shallow end, then rises up the steps to the deck, the water cascading down his wide, muscled back. He looks down at Jason for a long moment.
“You still haven’t told me,” Dash says. “Left or right?”
Jason coughs.
Dash frowns, shakes his head, and looks at Fox, then nods. Fox returns the nod and jogs toward the pool house. He’s back a few moments later with a pair of Timberland boots. He hands them to Dash, who sits down on the deck next to Jason.
“You know, it’s fine,” Dash says, pulling the boots onto his feet. “I’ll choose. It’ll be a surprise for you.”
The knot in my stomach hardens.
Jason manages to pick his head up. His face is red, his eyes watery, and his expression is all confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you honestly think this was over yesterday?” Dash asks, pulling the other boot on. “You couldn’t have thought that, right? You couldn’t have thought I was just gonna let it go, right?” He finishes tying the boot and ruffles Jason’s hair like he’s a little kid. “We’ve known each other too long, man. Way too long.”
“Dude,” Jason says. “Come on. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to pick a fucking hand,” Dash says standing.
“Dash,” Jason says, trying to get to his feet. “You can’t–”
Dash stomps on his back and Jason is flattened to the concrete deck. “Shut the fuck up and lay there.”
