“I have seventy-eight missed phone calls,” I whispered, my gaze locked with his. “And thirty-two text messages. I’m not even sure my voice mail is working anymore.”
His lips twisted. “Yeah,” he said, fighting a laugh. “Me too. But Halverson knows you left with me, and you know your dad isn’t going to do anything stupid like call the cops and end up pissing off my dad.”
I knew that. I suppose there was one perk of ditching school and running away with the son of one of the top ten wealthiest men in the world.
“I had so much fun today,” I said softly. “I don’t want it to end.”
Nick’s face grew serious and even more handsome in its intensity. “It doesn’t have to,” he said. “There’s tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the day after that and the day after that and there’s summer and—”
Leaning forward, I pressed the tips of my fingers to his lips. “I know,” I whispered. “And I want that too.”
How strange, I mused, what a difference a day truly makes. This morning I’d woken up feeling as it my life was over, and now…
I felt like maybe it was just beginning.
Nick’s warm fingers encircled my wrist and pulled my hand away from his mouth. Threading his fingers through mine, he gently tugged on my hand until I moved as far over in my seat as I could.
“And,” he prompted, “what else do you want?”
“I want you to kiss me,” I said, my voice a barely audible whisper.
“It’s a good thing you do,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “Because, Potter, I really fucking like you.”
~~~~
I awoke to a heavy weight on top of me, to soft kisses on my lips and cheeks, on my eyelids and forehead and then back down my cheeks. As the weight shifted over top of me, making sure not to touch where I’d just been tattooed, I felt warms lips on my neck. My hands found the top of his head and my fingers wove their way through his unbound hair, grabbing fistfuls and gripping tightly.
“Are you happy, Potter?” he mumbled against my quivering belly.
“Y-y-yes,” I whimpered, trembling under the feverish onslaught of his kisses and his touches and from the feel of his bare skin against mine.
I wasn’t positive I hadn’t made a mistake last night. After being together, I’d fallen asleep in Nick’s arms, cuddled in the back seat of his car, not knowing what the morning would bring. But unlike yesterday morning, or that fateful morning three weeks ago, I wasn’t terrified of the outcome.
Nick was different from the others; I could feel that truth deep within my bones. In the span of only a day, he’d made me feel more at peace than I could ever remember feeling before and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. I wanted to bottle it, keep it with me at all times, safe and sound, protected from the raging storm that had become my life.
I’d never before believed in love at first sight, but this was not my first glimpse of Nick. Instead it was my first glimpse of who Nick truly was, the man behind the eyeliner and angry scowl. Was this love? I didn’t know. But it felt as if maybe it could be. Someday.
I felt Nick lift his head and I glanced down my body to find him smiling at me.
“Good,” he said. “Remember that, remember how you felt last night and right now… because we have to be at school in an hour.”
School. Where everyone would already know what had happened. Where our parents would be waiting for us with the headmaster and all the teachers involved.
“I know,” I whispered.
“Promise me,” he whispered back.
I promised him. I promised him that I would remember, and then I promised him tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and the day after that. I promised him summer, and then I promised him fall.
And as he made love to me, he promised me too.
~~~~
Nick shut off the engine, pulled his keys from the ignition, and turned to look at me. “Ready?” he asked.
As I placed my hand on the door handle, I shook my head no but then whispered, “Yes.”
“We got this,” he said softly, reaching for my cheek. The pad of his thumb swept over my lips. “Worse comes to worst, I’ll just threaten my dad with all the dirt I have on him, then he’ll threaten your dad and the headmaster and everyone will slink back into their respective corners.”
I stared into his eyes believing every word he said, trusting him completely. It was such a foreign feeling to me, knowing that I could finally count on someone other than myself, knowing that not everyone was selfish, single-minded, and out to get me.
As we stared at each other a warmth began to blossom inside of me, the likes of which I’d never known before. It spread comfortably through me, giving me a strength I didn’t know I had.
“Kiss me,” I whispered, leaning forward, wanting him, wanting more of him than just his kisses or his touches but wanting his beautiful soul.
“I can do that,” he muttered, bowing his head as his hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck and pulled me to him.
It wasn’t long before I was crawling into his lap, breathing hard as I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.
Nick’s hands encircled my wrists and gently pinned my arms to my side.
“Hold that thought,” he said, grinning. “Until we find out whether we’re going to be drawn and quartered or tied to the whipping post.”
Several deep breaths later, once we were out of the car and winding our way through the parking lot and nearing the front lawn, Nick took my hand in his and squeezed.
“We got this,” he repeated as the students mingling on the lawn in small groups came into view.
I squeezed back, straightened my body, squared my shoulders, and then, with my heart in my throat, took that first step onto the walkway. We were nearly halfway down the walk when the animated chatter started to slowly diminish. By the time we reached the bottom step, everyone on the entire lawn had frozen with anticipation, becoming utterly still.
“Slut!”
The sound of Malcolm’s voice caused my already skyrocketing adrenaline to implode. My head whipped right as I zeroed in on Malcolm’s sneering face and yelled back, “Dickless man-whore!” After a heartbeat, everyone in the entire yard burst into laughter.
Beside Malcolm, Trevor was staring at me, his features masked with shock. Whether he was surprised that I’d had the nerve to call Malcolm out, or because I was wearing obviously wrinkled clothing and my hair was a mess, or because I was holding the hand of the most hated boy at school, I wasn’t sure. Maybe all of the above.
But it didn’t matter. I locked eyes with him and smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was a slow-growing grin that was nothing if not pure menace and vile intent. It was a beautiful gesture turned so blatantly, so deliberately, into something ugly.
“Mr. Shelton, Miss Potter, how nice of you to join us this morning.”
Mrs. Halverson stood at the top of the steps, eyeing our clasped hands curiously.
“Your parents are waiting and they have been worried sick,” she continued, her gaze finally reaching our faces. “In fact, we all have.”
“As you can see,” Nick said, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm, “we’ve neither been killed nor maimed.”
“Office,” Mrs. Halverson snapped, pointing at the double doors behind her. “Now.”
Nick and I glanced at each other and I smiled. “We got this,” I said, and for the first time in my life I felt like I really did have something.
And what I had, my something, was grinning back at me. Together, hand in hand, we climbed the stairs and followed Mrs. Halverson inside to whatever fate awaited us.
THE END
About the Author
Madeline Sheehan
Madeline Sheehan, a “Social Distortion” enthusiast and devoted fan of body art, has been writing books since she was seven years old. She is the author of The Holy Trinity ebook trilogy and best-selling novel, Undeniable. Homegrown in Buffalo, New York, Madeline resid
es there with her husband and son.
Check out her website: https://www.madelinesheehan.com
Or LIKE her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MadelinesheehanBooks
Rock the Beginning
(Black Falcon Prequel to Rock the Heart)
by
Michelle A. Valentine
© Copyright 2013 Michelle A. Valentine ~ All rights reserved
Chapter 1
Freshman year…
LANE
So this is it? Freshman year. I stand in the pristine hallway of Cedar Creek High School next to my best friend Cassandra Lutz as we survey the same faces we see year after year. Nothing in this town ever changes. I was hoping that I would be wowed in high school—dramatically swept off my feet on my first day by a dashing upper-classmen—living the dream of going to the prom as a freshman. Well, at least it’s a big dream of mine.
But sadly, I’m disappointed yet again.
I sigh heavily and lean my back against the red locker and squeeze my books tighter against my chest. I can’t wait to get out of here and run off to a big city where I can make something of myself. I’ve always thought a job in advertising sounded fun. Maybe I’ll try that someday.
“Just once I’d love to have some fresh meat in this place,” Cassandra says pulling her brown hair into a loose bun on the top of her head. “I hate knowing everything about these guys. There’s no mystery. None of them do anything surprising.”
I nod in total agreement. “Where are all the guys I read about in books—the ones that know exactly what to say? The first day of school is practically over and nothing remotely exciting has happened yet.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, a crash against the lockers a few feet to my right draws my attention. I suddenly feel the urge to take back the last thing I said. This is not exactly the kind of excitement I was hoping for.
All the kids in the hallway stop dead in their tracks in unison and stare at the scene playing out before us like a bad teen sitcom. Roger Robertson, the guy we all know as the school bully, grips Wendell McFarland, a kid in my grade, by the collar of his shirt. Roger’s large arms twist as he repositions his wrists in order to get a better grip, while he wears a sickening smile on his red, pimple-covered face. Roger isn’t the kind of guy you want to mess with. His temper is about as red-hot as the flaming color of his hair and we all know he’s been held back to the freshman level three times now. If Roger walks down the hallway, you get out of his way or duck for cover. His reputation of assholism precedes him.
I instantly feel sorry for Wendell. His tiny, pencil-like frame is no match for the likes of Roger. “Give it up, you fucking pussy.” I flinch as Roger yanks Wendell forward and slams him back even harder. “Don’t make me tell you again. I know your parents are loaded. Cough up the dough.”
Wendell gasps for air as Roger shoves his knuckles into his throat. “I don’t have any money.”
Another slam and Wendell’s glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. “Cough it up you little shit stain.”
My mouth gapes open and my eyes grow wide. It’s painfully hard to watch. Someone has to stop this.
I glance around. Several of my classmates stand frozen. No one is making a move to stop this outright appalling display of human behavior. This makes me sick. What’s wrong with these people? A desperate need to make this stop fills me.
Before I even realize what I’m doing I take a couple quick steps and open my mouth. “Stop it! Leave him alone!”
It’s like a movie when a hush falls over the crowd. I know this isn’t the smartest move, but I just can’t stand by and do nothing to stop this. And, okay, I know the odds of me being able to stop Roger physically are about as good as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, but I can’t idly sit by. I wasn’t raised that way.
Cassandra grabs my arm and whispers harshly, “Are you crazy, Lanine? What are you doing?”
I pull my arm from her grip and frown as I take in the fear from her brown eyes. I straighten my stance. I have to appear brave. “Someone has to stop this, Cass.”
Roger’s gaze darts from me to Wendell. His eyes are so brown they almost appear black and the pure venom in them causes my legs to shake. A deep laugh bursts out of his mouth and holds me in place. “What do we have here? Is this your little girlfriend, four-eyes? Is she here to save you?”
“N—no,” Wendell stutters.
No one should be able to get away with treating people like this. “Stop it, Roger!”
Roger flings his gaze at me. “Or what, Shirley Temple? You going to make me?”
I stare down at the pink sun-dress I’m wearing. While very cute for my first day of school, it doesn’t exactly scream badass, but this guy doesn’t know what I’m capable of, so I can’t let him rattle my nerves. “I might. Now, leave him alone.”
Roger sneers while opening his large hands and makes a show of letting Wendell go. As soon as Wendell is free, he takes off running without looking back to make sure I’m not the one getting pounded now.
Thanks for the back-up, Wendell.
The bully turns to me and taps his lip. “Happy now, Shirley? I let him go, but it seems we have a small problem now.”
I lift my chin as Roger stalks towards me with slow steps like a tiger stalking his prey. “What’s that?”
“Someone is going to have to pay me. You see, I need money for a new tire and since you chased my little buddy off who was about to pay for it, I guess that leaves you.” He grins at me in a way a serial killer would right before he murders his victim.
I grip my books tighter and my hands turn clammy. If he comes at me this Geometry book is going to make one hell of a weapon. “Fat chance. I’m not giving you any money.”
He shakes his head as he steps in front of me. “That’s where you’re wrong. Guy, girl… doesn’t matter to me. I’ll still beat you into submission in order to get what I need, and what I need from you is money. You’re going to get that for me. A nice girl like you seems good for it.”
I narrow my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
Roger slaps the books from my hands and leans into me like he’s about to attack, but a voice stops him. “Listen, bitch—”
“Pick those up.” My neighbor and childhood friend, Noel Falcon pushes his way through the crowd. Once he’s through, he narrows his eyes at Roger, daring him to cross him. “Pick those up, or I swear to God you’ll pay.”
The guy in front of me takes a step back and smirks as Noel steps between us, using his body to shield me from Roger. At first I’m scared for Noel’s safety, but I quickly notice he’s nearly an even match for the guy that’s much older than him.
When did he get so tall and buff?
I guess I never noticed Noel’s muscles before. The way they stretch his black t-shirt and how board his shoulders have actually gotten has somehow slipped past me all summer long. Granted, I haven’t seen him as much as I normally do over the summer. Noel magically became busy every time I asked him to come over and go fishing off the dock behind my house like we always did, which was… strange considering we use to spend all of our time together.
His hair grew too. The shaggy hair he sported last school year as he got into rock music would probably touch his shoulders now if he didn’t have it pulled back into a low-set ponytail. I admit, he’s looking pretty good.
Roger straightens his shoulders and rocks his neck like a trained fighter before he sets his eyes on Noel. “You’ll walk away if you know what’s good for you. This is between me and Shirley here.”
Noels fingers fold into fists at his side. “I think you got that backwards, fucker. It’s you that needs to beat it. No one messes with Lane. No one.”
“Brave words. You’re going to wish you’d walked away when I gave you the chance after I beat your face in,” Roger sneers.
“I’ll never walk away from Lane. You fuck with her. You fuck with me.” There’s a growl in Noel’s voice I’ve never heard before. It’s low and threat
ening. I never knew Noel could be so scary or bad-ass or… hot.
Oh my God. What am I thinking? Noel isn’t hot. Noel is… Noel, my friend—best friend since kindergarten.
I can’t ponder on that last thought too long because Roger’s laugh pulls me out of that bubble. Without warning Roger draws his arm back, launching it full force towards Noel’s face. Two things happen so quick the scream building in my throat doesn’t have time to come out. The first is Noel dodges the blow with ease and blasts Roger in the face first while simultaneously pushing me out of harms way.
I fall to the floor in all the commotion just as Roger tackles Noel and they crash to the ground. At first it appears that Roger has the upper-hand until Noel uses some quick UFC style movements and turns the tables. Noel flips Roger onto his back and straddles him before gripping a handful of Roger’s shirt in his hand and blasts a right hook into the monster red-head’s face.
My mouth gapes open as the boy I’ve known most of my life defends me like no one else ever has.
A hand grips my shoulder and pulls me up off the floor. “Jesus, Lanie. Are you all right?” Cass asks. “Thank God Noel showed up when he did.”
I’m about to agree with her just as the guys roll around in the hallway again and this time Roger’s in control. Hell. No.
This weird urge to protect Noel comes over me. I fling myself on Roger’s back without thinking ahead any further what I would do next. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tight. Not getting anywhere, I get desperate and grab a handful of red hair and yank as hard as I can. “Get off him!”
I ignore the distinct sound of tennis shoes scuffling on the tiled hallway as I tighten my grip on his hair. There’s no way I’m letting anyone hurt Noel.
Stories for Amanda Page 33
