Betting Bad

by Cathryn Fox

  He’s not asking, he’s telling me, but I’m so far gone, lost in pleasure right now, I’m sure I’d agree to just about anything. I reach for him, pull him closer. His mouth lands on mine and I taste my sweetness on his tongue as it slides between my lips.

  “Mmm,” I moan and the sound seems to do something to him. His mood changes, a new urgency about him as his cock grows impossibly thicker against my thigh. I give him a little shove until he’s flat out on the bed beside me. I stare at his hard cock as it clamors for my attention, unable to take my eyes off his beautiful length and girth as I settled between his legs.

  “Sara,” he says softly as I bend forward. His fingers curl through my hair and pull it to the side to watch as I take him deeply. I want him to come in my throat. I want every drop of him inside my body where I can keep it forever. I take him to the back of my throat and close my hand over the rest of his shaft, barely able to get my palm around it.

  He growls, and powers upward into my mouth as I rock back and forth. I lick his pre-cum and our moans mingle. His fingers tighten in my hair, grip a little harder and I like the feel of it. I whimper, and work my mouth and hand along the length of him as he mumbles and curses beneath me. I glance up at him, catch the heat in his eyes and my sex comes to life again with a hard clench. Ribbons of moisture drip down my leg and tickle my inner thighs. I squirm, and needing the intimate contact, I straddle one of his legs. My wet sex presses against his thigh, and I grind down, rubbing my aching clit all over him.

  “Motherfucker,” he moans.

  I caress my clit as his body tenses, his cock thickening as hot blood races through his veins. I hold him in my mouth, moving only slightly as I wait for his release.

  “Sara,” he growls, his body letting go and filling my throat with his warmth. Like me, he comes and comes, and I drink him all in until he’s flat out on the bed, trembling, spent, lost to everything except us.

  I inch back, and crawl up his body. He tangles his hands in my hair, and we hold on to each other like our lives depend on it. In some way, I think they do. As the world settles around me, I glance at the clock. I don’t want to move. I want to stay here in Tyler’s arms for the rest of the day, but we can’t do that. We have responsibilities, and we both need to get moving if we want to make it to work on time. Plus, I have to stop by Dad’s office. He’s expecting me. Even more so after last night.

  “We need to move,” I say.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Me neither. But if I’m late seeing Dad, I don’t know what he’ll do.” A pause and then, “Ty?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He can’t know you stayed here.”

  “He won’t.”

  Ty drops a soft, affectionate kiss onto my forehead, and my insides twist at the tender way he cares for me. “Why don’t you go shower and I’ll make us something to eat.”

  “My fridge is pretty empty. I do have cereal.”

  “Captain Crunch?” he says his eyes so big, I can’t help but laugh.

  “We’re not twelve anymore.”

  “I know, but dammit I used to crave Captain Crunch when I was…” He stops speaking like he can’t use the term incarcerated around me.

  “It’s okay to say it, Tyler. I know where you were.”

  “I know, I just… I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Wanting to lighten his mood, I say, “Tell you what. On the way home from work, I’ll pick up a few boxes of Captain Crunch for you. I need to get some groceries anyway.”

  He runs his fingers down my arm, the heat in his eyes holding all sorts of promise. “If you want me to stay over again, all you have to do is ask. You don’t need to ply me with sugary cereal.”

  I laugh, pick up the pillow and hit him with it. He ducks and grabs it from me. He’s about to hit me back with it, but stops when he sees the smile is gone from my face.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You staying here last night. It was probably a bad decision.”

  He drops the pillow and climbs from the bed. He exhales heavily and I take in his long hard body, mesmerized by the changes in it as he stands before me completely naked.

  “Yeah, well, we’ve been making a lot of bad decisions lately haven’t we,” he says. “We can add it to the list.”

  I pause for a brief moment, my mind going back to the Phantoms. I pluck at the sheets, pull away an imaginary piece of lint. Is one of his bad decisions getting mixed up with the local gangs? I want to ask, I really do, but I’m too afraid of the answer. He’s changed so much since I knew him, and he’s just trying to find a way to survive in his new world.

  “What about your mother? She’s going to want to know where you were.”

  “I’ll tell her I stayed at a friends.” He shrugs. “It’s not a lie. We are friends, aren’t we?”

  “We are,” I say.

  “Sara,” he says and crosses around the bed. The mattress dips when he sits next to me and takes his hand in mine. “I don’t want you staying here alone.”

  “Caleb’s in custody. He isn’t going to cause me any more trouble.”

  “Here’s how it’s going to go down. He’ll go to his hearing before the judge today, pay his bond, and be back on the streets until he gets a court date. You’ll have to go and testify at that time.”

  My stomach lurches. “But he won’t be allowed back on the campus, right?”

  “Probably not, but I plan to go with you every night, and keep you by my side. He’ll most likely be charged with battery, and I’m sure an order of protection will be a condition of his bond, meaning he won’t be able to have any contact with you.”

  “You know a lot about this,” I say, and swallow, hard, understanding, and hating why he’s so familiar with the judicial system.

  “Yeah,” he says quietly then adds, “I’m driving you back and forth. I’m not asking, Sara.”

  “Tyler, I have to work and so do you. You can’t be with me twenty-four seven.”

  “I’m not saying I’ll be by your side twenty-four seven. Just school nights, and well, nights in general.” I open my mouth to protest, but he puts a finger to my lip and adds, “Your building is easy to get into, Sara.” He pokes the bed. “This is where I want to be every night. Holding you in my arms.” His muscles flex as he rakes his hair from his face. “Tell me you want that too?”

  I do. I want that so damn much, but it’s impossible.

  “We can’t,” I say. “I can’t even be seen with you. If my father…my boss…”

  He frowns intently, and I can almost hear the wheels spinning as he wages an internal war. My intercom beeps and I practically jump in the bed. “Who could that be?” I slide from the bed, throw my robe around her shoulders and hurries to the other room. I press the intercom. “Who is it?”

  “It’s your father, Sara. Open up.”

  13

  Tyler

  With October bleeding into November, the morning air is cooler and seeps into my bones as I quietly slide Sara’s bedroom window shut behind me, and hurry from her apartment building. I shrug into my coat and glance over my shoulder to take in the strange looks a few people are giving me, but I smile and nod and just keep on my way. Most people in this city mind their own business and keep to themselves, so I’m pretty sure the cops aren’t going to be called. No one wants to get involved in anyone else’s problems.

  I round the corner and breathe again, thankful that Coach Ramsey hadn’t caught me inside or seen me leaving. Sneaking around like this is total bullshit, but I made a promise to Sara and one to her father. Opposing promises. Honest to fuck, I shouldn’t be with Sara to begin with. But she asked for this, and after everything I put her through, I owe her that much, right?

  Except leaving her when she’s done with me is going to snap the last filaments holding my fucked-up heart together. I pull my coat across my chest to ward off the chill as I hurry down the street, my mind mentally cataloguing Sara’s apartment to ensure I left no evidence of my presen
ce behind.

  I squeeze between two parked vehicles and cut across the street, and a car hits the horn as it bears down on me. Ignoring the man giving me the finger, I take the corner to where I parked my bike last night. At least I did one fucking thing right by hiding it from plain sight of Sara’s apartment.

  I stop dead in my tracks, as my heart thuds faster. What the ever-loving fuck? I glance up and down the street, and when my bike is nowhere to be found, I nearly fucking lose it.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I curse under my breath, and fist my hands, ready to punch someone or something. Who the fuck stole my bike? I reach for my phone, hesitate for a second. Who the hell am I going to call? There’s always Lucas, but what would he know about my missing bike? Fuck me. The only call I can make is to the cops, and that doesn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling. The less I deal with them the better. Shit. But what choice do I have? I need to report the crime. I slide my finger over my phone and make my second call to the precinct in as many days. Jesus fuck, I’m trying to stay out of trouble, but it keeps finding me. And that shit just pisses me the fuck off.

  I pace the street, and those coming and going keep a wide berth, no doubt thinking I’m some nut job as I walk back and forth and curse under my breath. When the black and white finally shows up, I peer into the window and feel a measure of relief that it’s not the same officers from last night. I don’t want them becoming too familiar with me.

  “Hey,” I say when the officer climbs from his car. The other officer stays inside and is on the radio. “Thanks for coming so fast.”

  He steps up to me, and pulls a notepad from his pocket. “So your bike was stolen.”

  “Yeah, I parked it here last night around ten.” He grabs a pen, takes down my information, then asks for my I.D. I dig my wallet from my back pocket, thankful it hadn’t fallen out on Sara’s floor again, and hand it over. He goes to the car, and I pace again as he punches in my information. When he comes back he says, “How long you’ve been back, Tyler?”

  “Not long.”

  “Long enough to have your bike stolen.”

  I nod.

  He looks at me, his eyes hard, all knowing. “My boy is on Collin’s football team. He says good things about you.”

  “Oh yeah. Who’s your boy?”

  “Jared Holt.”

  I smile. “Yeah, he’s a good kid. Fast. Lots of potential.”

  I catch a hint of a grin on the man’s face, then he’s serious again. “You’re doing good things with the team.” He glances at the curb, to the spot where my bike should have been parked. “I hate to see you getting into any kind of trouble, and getting kicked off the field. It’s nice to see you giving back to the community.” He stares me straight in the eyes, like he’s waiting for a reaction, some giveaway that I’m up to no good.

  “I’m not looking for trouble, sir.” I scrub my face and keep my eyes locked on his.

  After a moment he nods, and looks around again. “Do you have enemies, someone who might be sending you a signal?”

  I make a sound, a half snort half laugh. From the way the Phantoms were staring at me, I’m afraid a war might be coming. They did, after all, lose their guns because of me. “I guess it’s possible.” I shake my head. “I’m not getting my bike back, am I?”

  “Hate to say it, but chances are slim to none. There’s been a run on Hondas, and Harleys.”

  “Yeah?”

  He tucks his notepad away. “I’m sure your bike has been stripped clean for parts by now.”

  “Chop shop? Here? In the city?”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t suggest you go digging into it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “A man in your shoes…” He shakes his head. “You don’t want to find yourself back on the inside, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Then let this go, and leave us to do our jobs.”

  Anger seeps through my blood. Fuck, man, I worked and saved hard to get that bike. Justin knew a guy and got me a great deal on it. He’ll be as pissed as I am. I have some bucks put away to get a car, but come spring it’s my bike I want to drive. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Need a drive home?”

  I give a quick shake of my head. The last thing I need for my mother to see is me being taken home in a cruiser. “No.” I gesture with a nod. “It’s not to far. I’ll walk.”

  “If we get a lead, we’ll let you know, but don’t count on it.”

  He climbs back into the car, and I steal a glance at my watch. Shit, it’s getting late and if I’m not on the field in time, Coach Ramsey will have my ass. I walk home with a hurried pace, and shoot a text to Justin to let him know what happened and ask him to keep an eye out over the winter for a replacement. When I approach the house, I notice an old Ford Focus in the driveway. I look it over as I climb the steps to the front door. I try the knob to find it locked, then knock.

  Gracie comes rushing to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Your favorite brother,” I say.

  She grins and opens the door. “Did you lose your key?”

  “I ah..,”

  I step inside and glance at Mom as she sips tea at the table. Her eyes are wary, suspicious when they meet mine. And why wouldn’t they be? I left here last night, and didn’t so much as call to explain that I wouldn’t be home. Of course her mind is going to race to the worst.

  Mom glances at the clock. “Is everything okay?” she asks, but I know what she’s really asking. Why am I just getting home now? What kind of trouble have I been into?

  I close the door behind me, and sit next to her, figuring the truth is the best thing. Otherwise I risk her kicking me out to protect her other kids.

  “Mom, there was an incident at the campus last night.” She straightness in her chair, like she’s bracing herself for a fleet of cop cars to surround the place. “It’s Sara,” I say quickly.

  “What happened to Sara?” Gracie asks as she takes her seat across from me.

  “She was attacked.” They both gasp, and I hold my hands up and quickly add, “She’s okay. I saw to it that she got home safely last night. She was scared, so I stayed with her.” I glance at mom. “That’s where I was.”

  My mom lets loose a breath, and Gracie leans forward. “Oh my God, Tyler. What happened?”

  “The details aren’t important. Just know the man is in custody, and Sara is okay.”

  “You called the police?” Mom asks.

  “He attacked Sara, Mom. I had to get him off the streets. Who knows what he’s capable of, who else he might hurt.”

  My mom’s hand slides across the table and closes over mine. “Thank God you were there, Tyler.” She taps my hand, takes another small sip of tea and stands. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” She pulls open the junk drawer and produces a house key. The air leaves my lungs when I see it. It’s not just a key she’s offering me. It’s her trust, and I damn will plan to take great care with it. I try to breathe past the knot in my throat, but the air gets caught as my ribcage tightens around my swelling heart.

  “Thanks,” I manage to get out. “What’s with the car is the driveway? Who owns it?”

  “You do, bro,” Lucas says as he comes into the kitchen, shirtless, his hair mussed from sleep, feet dragging on the floor.

  “What?” I ask, and from the other side of the table, Gracie grabs her tablet.

  “I’m going to text Sara,” she says, opening her special voice transcription device that allows her to text like a normal teenager.

  As she busies herself, Lucas looks at me. “You said you needed a car, so I got you one.” I study him, note the edginess about him. What’s going on with him?

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I told you, my buddy was selling it. I got you a good deal.”

  “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. I got a good deal, let’s leave it at that.”

  I stare at him for a moment and he turns from me and opens the fridge.

  “
Want me to make you some eggs, Lucas?” Mom asks, and he shakes his head.

  “Nah. I need to get going. Busy day.”

  “You’re working too hard,” Mom says, a frown marring her forehead. “It was well past two when you got in last night.”

  Lucas pulls the milk from the fridge, but stiffens at our mother’s words. So help me God if he’s gotten himself into any kind of trouble. I’m impressed at how quickly he pulls himself together—like he has nothing to hide—but still has his back to me as he grabs the cereal from the cupboard.

  “I’m trying to make some extra money.” He turns to us, but the big smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes. “I plan to open my own shop someday. Mr. Johnson is great but I don’t want to work for him forever, you know.”

  “I know,” Mom says.

  “Ty,” he begins, redirecting the focus. “You talked about opening your own sports store, and holding clinics. Ever give any more thought to that?”

  As a matter of fact I have. After tutoring Tanner, I grabbed some information on winter courses starting in January. I like working at BSA, but don’t want to spend the rest of my life there. But opening my own store without Sara, that just doesn’t feel right. I wonder if she has regrets about that, or ever thinks about maybe wanting to give it another go. What the fuck am I thinking? She’s not going to give it a go with me, that’s for sure.

  “I don’t know about that,” is all I say, and Mom stands, like she can’t bear to be a part of the conversation, all the lost years and lost dreams.

  She puts her hand on Lucas’s cheek. Such a familiar gesture, and one I used to love. She gives him a little pat, then goes about rinsing the dishes. “I must get ready. We’re doing inventory down at the store so I need to get in early.”

  Lucas fills a bowl with cereal and I glare at him until Mom leaves the room.

  “What?” he finally asks.

  “The car. It’s legit?”

  “Yeah, it’s fucking legit. Can’t a guy do his brother a favor?”

  I push back in my chair. “My bike was stolen last night.”