Rival : A Revenge & Legacy Prequel

by M. C. Cerny

  4

  Aaron

  “I can’t believe we’ve got a weekend of leave and then we have to go back.” My buddy Joe slapped his hand down on the wheel of his ride. We were lucky enough to get one of the last flights out of DC to Newark and find a cheap rental car so we could drive home.

  “It is what it is.” I relaxed in the seat and let Joe drive. I wasn’t staying long, and I already knew I was heading home to basically an empty house. Not because my family didn’t care, but more because I wasn’t great at staying in touch since I had left for the military. They were busy with their own lives, and the key was always under the big rock in my mother’s garden around the side of the house. They were used to me popping in, and I usually took care of odd jobs for my parents like moving heavy furniture or cleaning up. Not because they expected it, but because I didn’t know my place otherwise.

  Things were … complicated with them.

  “Bro, I gotta make a stop for my brother.” Joe pulled the car over on a busy street in a shitty neighborhood. We didn’t belong hanging out here, and if our CO caught us, we were in deep shit. I was going to beat Joe to a pulp when we got back for getting me jammed up in this.

  “Joey, what the fuck, man?” I watched him jump out of the car, and I slid down in my seat, hoping no one would see me sitting here. I wore my military camo fatigues, sticking out like a sore thumb on a street that looked like a bombed out alley. I pulled my hat down low and kept my mirror shades on. This was the last thing I needed when I was up for a promotion.

  I scanned the street, staying vigilant in case Joe really fucked the pooch here. I watched some rich prick park his silver Bentley and enter a building across the street. He was dressed in a black suit, rocking the mob look, and filled with so much fucking swagger he could’ve been a young Al Pacino in “Scarface.” It didn’t take long for his car to attract the wrong kind of attention either. I had the pleasure of watching a group of young looking boys have a field day with the car. It wasn’t my jam to intervene, so when they managed to hop inside and get the engine revving, I sat up and took notice.

  That kind of trouble took talent.

  I gave my hat a good tug and felt myself reaching for the door handle as the car sped off, and one of the boys was rolled out the door. More dudes in suits came and started to give chase. No way was this incident ending well, and I didn’t like the idea of a scrawny boy getting his ass beat for stupid mischief.

  “Let’s roll.” Joey got back in the car and started it up as I pushed my door open to get out and stand on the street.

  “Fuck, Aaron. I got my shit; let’s go.” Joe tugged my ass back inside the car. “What’s up with you?”

  Ignoring him, I scanned the street, but the kid was long gone. No chance to be a hero now; not that I wanted to be.

  “Dude, you see those kids lift that Bentley?”

  “No, and I don’t care. I got my brother’s weed, so let’s get out of here,” Joe said.

  I rolled my eyes, disgusted.

  “He needs to quit that shit, and no more pickups when I’m in the car with you, asshole,” I grunted, clicking my seatbelt in place as Joe sped off toward Montclair where we lived.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He dismissed me, driving like an ass as he jerked the car in stop and go traffic.

  I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere, and Joe would continue to do stupid stuff. I needed to put some distance between us after this trip home. He was nothing but trouble for me.

  “Where are we going next?” I asked, reaching in the back seat for my duffel bag so I could change my shirt into something less conspicuous. Tight-fitting black T-shirt with my pants would pass; it was all I had.

  “Stopping at my ma’s place, and then we’re barhopping with some guys I know.”

  “Great.” At least the trip to Joe’s ma’s house would be less eventful. He’d drop off his brother’s weed, and his mother would insist on feeding us before we went out.

  “Check out that hot chick.” Joe slapped my arm as he took a long pull from the bottle of beer he was drinking. Some homemade label called Witches Tit from upstate NY, a place called Easton’s Pub that sounded more fantasy than reality with the whimsical cartoon drawing on it.

  Laughing, I turned around in my seat and scanned the bar area up and down. My eyes roamed the darkened area until they landed on bright blonde hair. Well, I’d be damned. I got off my barstool, put down my beer, and moved directly in the line of sight of the chick Joe had his eyes on. It would seem Miss Claudia Shaffer was all grown up. Unfortunately, she danced, swaying her body between two thuggish twins I had no problem extricating her from.

  “Dude, I call dibs. Dude. Dude.” Joe tried to follow, but I pushed him back, unable to explain the tightness in my chest and the wave of need, want, and desire that coursed through me.

  “Sit down, Joe. You don’t have a shot with this one.” I made my claim clear.

  “Oh, and you do?” Joe said with a disbelieving smirk.

  What he didn’t know was that Claudia and I had history. Complicated history.

  “Yeah, buddy.” I patted his shoulder and did what I did best. I went after the girl with one goal in mind. Make her mine. If it didn’t work out, Joe could have a shot, but this right here, right now, was all mine.

  “That’s fucked-up, man. Call me.” He made a phone gesture, holding it up to his ear as he backed away.

  I didn’t give a shit about Joe, but I should have. He was my wingman, and we did everything together; except girls. I wasn’t that close to anyone, but Claudia. She brought back all the memories from when I first came home to the Henderson’s doorstep, a ratty backpack in my hand and few memories of the life before.

  I brushed past the girls she danced with until I was right beside her. The ugly twins watched me with a menacing glare, and I gave them a good old nod, indicating I had no problems taking them on if need be. They backed off like the pussies they were and edged off the dance floor, talking up another group of girls. Claudia hadn’t taken notice of me yet, but she would. This whole scenario could go one of two ways. Really good or really bad, based on how I left her last time.

  “Hey, Buttercup.” I used the nickname I gave her and felt her whole body stiffen under my hands that now gripped her slender waist.

  “Frogman,” she hissed, turning in my arms.

  “It’s good to see you.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek, letting my nose drift up and down her soft summer tanned skin. She still smelled like honey and the tang of freshly bitten oranges.

  “Surprised you came back. Do your parents even know?” Her cheek turned away. The bitterness was raw and expected. In truth, her treatment was better than I deserved. The apology soured on my tongue. I doubted words would serve when Claudia sought actions to back them up. My Buttercup girl always made me work hard for her attention, but this rift between us wasn’t her playing hard to get. I’d hurt her.

  “I haven’t gone to the house yet.” I shrugged, tailing after her as she weaved between the crowd.

  Claudia stopped short. My agility kept me from bowling her over.

  “You’re following me, Aaron. What do you want from me?” She cocked her head, eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed like the good girl finally wanted to chew me out, and I hoped that she would.

  “I want … a lot of things,” I said. It was lame, but it was the best explanation I could give. I was the fuckup. The adopted kid who made them look like saints. Oh they were good parents, missionary types with a drive to save the world. It was just too bad I was touched too early with the cynical gene. I never saw things the same way they did, and I never fit in despite trying so hard. Through all the years, little Claudia Shaffer had been there watching me. Waiting for me. Of course, I tarnished that too.

  “You could start with, ‘I’m sorry.’” Her dismissal was cute. Claudia made to walk away, and I followed her closely. I pushed her away last time thinking it was the right thing to do.

  “I’m not sorry.” I pulled her back s
harply into my arms as I maneuvered us down the darkened hallway of the bar.

  “Damn it, Aaron. I gave you everything.” Her arms pushed up to punch against my solid chest. The military had been good to me these past few years.

  “I came back wanting more.” My hands fisted into her ash-blonde curls, controlling the angle of her chin. I devoured her mouth, tasting equal parts regret and hope in her kiss. We fought in that dark abyss, and our struggle mimicked the years away that words could not. When her body surrendered flush against mine, I relented coming up for air.

  Breathless, she panted, “I think our definition of more is very different, Aaron Henderson.”

  “Well, there’s one thing you haven’t given me.” I smiled against her lips, the insinuation clear. My hand reached for hers and the purity ring she still wore on her finger.

  “Where’s yours?” she asked, knowing full well I had divested of that the first chance I had. Us missionary kids typically fell into two camps. The devout and the depraved.

  “Ah, Claudia.” I kissed her nose.

  “I never did like that girl.” Her huffy attitude reminded me why I fell in love with her. Claudia was the sunlight to my darkness. The good girl who kept me in check, and the only reason I came back if for no other reason than to steal glimpses of her through my parents’ window every holiday. Dating her off and on over the years was both a blessing and a curse. Everyone had expectations for us, and I couldn’t curb my own wanderlust for adventure.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t come back for her.”

  “No?”

  I tapped her nose and said, “No.”

  Her hands ran up and down my chest until they twined around my neck. Her breasts rubbed suggestively over me, and my hands gripped her waist so I could grind against her shamelessly. Joe had nothing on me. My chemistry with Claudia was a thing for the ages that tested time zones, war zones, and hot zones.

  “Do you still have your room above the garage?” Her smirk told me I was definitely getting in her tight pants tonight.

  “I do, but I was hoping I could sneak inside your bedroom for old times’ sake.”

  “I think we both know, Aaron Henderson, you don’t plan on sneaking in for a peek at my homework assignments.”

  “I was hoping you might let me peek in your drawers and maybe feel you up while everyone’s asleep.”

  Our coy banter was going nowhere while my dick strained against my cargo pants. Claudia tipped her head up and looked me in the eyes as she pinched the solid gold ring on her finger, slowly slipping it off. She held it up like a prize between her thumb and pointer finger before reaching down to slide it inside my pocket, her hand grazing my hard length.

  “Careful, Buttercup. There are no refunds on this ride.” I brushed her hair back as her neck swayed back and forth under my grasp.

  “Stop talking, and take me home.”

  Her lips reached for mine, and I kissed her again soft and slow. She wasn’t the kind of girl you crashed and burned with. I knew what this meant to her, and I reined in my eagerness to make this good for her.

  “As you wish.” I made the promise and tucked her under my arm, walking her out of the bar and into the night. Claudia would always give, and I would always take, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love her. Contrary to my selfishness, I loved her with everything I had.

  5

  Elizabeth

  My prince of darkness came in a hazy mix of narcotics and insomnia. At first it was the smell. A deep, woodsy aroma and a combination of citrus that stung my nose in a curling vine, worming its way into my brain like a parasite. It could have been the hospital antiseptic, but someone that good-looking could never smell offensive; it was a rule, or a law based on teen magazine bullshit they paraded in the bodega aisles with false promises and prom dress trends.

  “Time to wake up, Elizabeth.” His velvet voice was danger and all the bad things good girls were warned about. His hand caressed my hair, rubbing the stubborn curls away from my brow gently.

  I kept my eyes closed, mimicking sleep. My bladder, full and aching, forced my attention to his presence in the room. I squeezed my thighs together under the thin covers. Certain a little piss leaked out, I couldn’t feel much below my waist when the drowning feeling of quicksand returned. My legs refused to work, and the suffocating vulnerability terrified me.

  “I won’t ask you twice.” He placed a large, heavy hand on my knee. His grip traveled south over thick blankets that chained me down, feeling his way toward the end of the bed.

  My eyes snapped open and looked into his green ones, orbs of hell in an emerald hue. He wasn’t kind or benevolent, and his grip deepened, making me arch on the bed in pain.

  “Ahhhhhh.” Horrendous pain radiated up my leg as he squeezed the white bandages swallowing my foot. So much for the numbness below my waist. If this was his formal introduction, I’d hate to know how he treated those he didn’t like.

  His arm reached long enough for him to lean into my side mocking, “Good morning, princess.”

  This guy seemed to have a number of nicknames for me, all said with malice and mockery. A few of my own came to mind in return. Asshole, pig, and cock-sucking bastard. He was hurting me, all because I helped steal his fucking car with a bunch of stupid kids from my neighborhood. I don’t know if he knew that or if it was an educated guess on his part.

  “What do you want?” I asked over the dry lump in my throat.

  I knew what I wanted. A moment of freedom, a moment to be someone I wasn’t, and the resulting consequence, had I known the difference, wasn’t nearly worth it.

  He scanned the room as he tapped his finger to his chin, making me wait and upping the level of edginess I felt. His eyes bored into me when he spoke. “Retribution. You took something from me, and now I’m going to take something from you.”

  I scoffed.

  “You got it back, didn’t you?” I said between gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

  He cocked his head assessing me, and I gulped back bile.

  “Your filthy little friends took my rims and left a scratch on the front fender I had to have repaired.” He leaned in closer, narrowing his eyes. “There’s also a dent in the door from a foot about the size of yours.”

  He scanned down my legs, and I gulped back a response as he continued his list of grievances. “I’ll have you know it’s a two hundred-thousand-dollar car.”

  My stomach bottomed out, and my throat dried up. There was no way I was going to get out of this, whatever this was. The way he called my friends filthy and looked at me like I was worthless—the equivalent to gum on the bottom of his shoe—rankled me.

  “Seems rather extravagant, don’t you think?” I said as his eyes constricted into terrifying dragon slits. My smart mouth was going to be the death of me as he breathed fire.

  He hissed in my face. I swore his tongue forked, viper that he was. “It’s worth more than your sorry little life.”

  Bravado propelled me over the edge of no return.

  “Maybe you should rethink what you drive down in the ward.”

  He inclined further, getting close to my ear, and chills racked my body from head to foot. I soberly wished it was the flu and not my life about to be drained from my body. Nary a whisker marred his perfect skin, and he smelled like a fancy department store I’d gotten kicked out of last Christmas when Eddie and I hopped the bus to the Garden State Plaza Mall.

  His minty breath burned my nose when he spoke. “I own the ward, little girl, and everything within it, including you. Don’t fuck with my patience.”

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Or what?”

  He leaned back and ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair. His angular face was pretty, carved and sculpted to perfection while his body looked like he spent hours a day in the gym; underneath his suit, the seams at the shoulders pressed and strained the dark fabric shot with silver threads. I was no match for him in the state I was in. I doubted I would eve
r be a match against him.

  “My little bird, I’m the villain in this story. You would do well to remember that.” There was no doubt in my mind he was telling the truth.

  Fever stained my puffy cheeks, and the tears in my eyes pooled deep threatening to break the dam. “Fuck you!” I growled through the pain.

  “Tut, tut. You’re a mouthy little bitch for one so young.” His grip on my injured foot intensified, paralyzing me.

  “What do you care?”

  “I care very much, my darling.” His tone darkened as he made his wishes known, sending shivers through me. “This is how it works, Elizabeth.” His toothy grin of perfect white teeth placated me like I was a toddler.

  “What do you want?” I asked him again through rasped whispers.

  “Since I believe everything is negotiable, here’s how it’s going to go. You can come with me willingly and service me, however I choose–”

  I interrupted him, no way was that happening.

  Not fucking ever.

  “Service you? I’m not a fucking prostitute. You’re a sick fuck. I’m just a kid.” He had to be twice my age, easily.

  I tried kicking out with my good foot, but he grabbed that one too and squeezed the delicate ankle bone until I cried out. He would break it if I struggled further, and the fight left me, deflating my last balloon of hope. My stomach churned, and I thought about vomiting, but the look on his face made me choke back the bile that rose to my lips. His glare said I had better not try anything if I wanted legs to support me walking out of here.

  The grip on my foot increased until I screamed.

  “I wasn’t finished, brat,” he said.

  Recognizing the lethality behind his tone stopped me from making another pitiful kicked dog sound. Why wasn’t anyone coming in here to help me, save me, or something?

  He continued dictating the direction of the conversation. “Or … I can kill your brother slowly and hurt his pretty little girlfriend.”