by Cole, Mila
“Stop right there. You deaf, son?” he called out to him. “He meant go the fuck home. Not back to her bedroom. You’ve caused enough damage for the day.”
That’s right.
“I need to get my shirt.”
“Some other time,” Tony told him. He didn’t give him a chance to argue. Our first responsibility was always to look out for Lighter’s safety. He was doing his job, the same way that I did mine. “We’ll tell her you said goodbye later. Now go.”
The boy’s face tightened in anger, but he never said another word. Which was smart, because Tony would’ve given him his second beatdown of the day. He turned and headed straight for the elevator, without his precious shirt.
“I’ll check on her,” I told Tony and squeezed his shoulder.
Mrs. Wright was quick on my heels.
I slowly opened the door to her bedroom, trying my best to be quiet. I remember my sister saying that the noise made it worse. It obviously wasn’t Mrs. Wright’s first go around. She whipped into action. She quickly moved around the bed, pressing a button to make black shades move down over the windows. The room was so dark once the shades were closed that if it weren’t for the little bit of light shining in from the hallway, I wouldn’t be able to see anything. After Mrs. Wright placed her things on the bedside table, she quickly left the room.
“Please go, Landon.” Her voice was filled with pain and laced with hurt. “And shut the door behind you,” she pleaded.
“He’s gone,” I whispered.
There was a long pause. The air was thick with silence before she spoke again. In a soft voice she said, “You can go too.”
I could.
I could close the door behind me and leave her there in a heap of pain. But I didn’t. She was frail and weak lying there under the covers. Something about her made me do things unconventionally. Maybe it was because she was young or because I was a new father. Either way, she was completely unaware of the power she held, but I would never let her know it.
I closed the door softly behind me but stayed in the room perched against the door. She would likely cuss me out if she realized I was still standing there, but I didn’t care. I was just making sure she was okay.
Still as a statue, I waited. I figured that once she fell asleep, I could easily slip out unnoticed. My eyelids started to droop as the darkness consumed me. Every minute that passed, I grew more and more tired. Just when I thought she’d drifted off to sleep, I heard the soft sounds of her crying. At first it was a little weep and a sniffle. Before I knew what was happening, she was sobbing into her pillow. The sound of it fucking gutted me like a knife. She was in so much pain, and I didn’t know what to do.
I knew that she’d realize I was in the room if I opened the door, but I had to get Mrs. Wright. I was way out of my element if I thought for one second I could help her.
The cool brass doorknob made a squeaky sound as I turned it. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Stay,” she called out to me.
How the hell did she even know I was there? I’d been quieter than a mouse up until that point. She cried, even knowing that I was in the room, and that made my stomach ache.
“I should get somebody, like Mrs. Wright or something,” I suggested.
“Please stay.”
I bit down hard on my bottom lip and shook my head. “Okay,” I agreed.
Opening the door, I let the barest amount of light I could into the room, just enough that I could see where I was going. I tiptoed around the edge of her bed until I could see her face. “Ice.” She pointed to the bag on her nightstand.
I picked it up and placed it in her outstretched hand and watched as she winced in pain when it touched her head. There had to be something I could do.
“Let me get you some help.”
“No,” she pleaded. “Just stay.”
“Until you go to sleep,” I told her as I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
She looked so small and frail lying there, and for one small instant I felt guilty for the pain I’d caused her earlier. Guilt was crippling, and I tried not to let myself go to that place very often. This time was different though. She was truly hurting. It wasn’t at my hand that she was lying there in pain, but it didn’t make the burden of it feel any better.
She softly cried out again, and I put my hand on her shoulder. “Shhh,” I whispered. I did my best to calm her, the same way I did with Chloe. I guess maybe I had learned a few things since I’d started raising my girl.
Just when I thought she was settling in and possibly dozing off, she shot off the bed like a speeding bullet and ran straight to the bathroom. It scared the shit out of me when she jumped up.
I groaned looking up at the ceiling when I heard her start to vomit. This was awful on a whole other level.
I stepped inside the bathroom to see her hunched over the toilet. Her hair was dangling in her face, and she was making the most cringeworthy noises. She would hurl and then cry out in pain.
Running toward the door to her bedroom, I yelled out for Tony.
“What’s going on? Shit, what’s happening in there?” he asked when he heard the same noises.
“Get Mrs. Wright,” I urged.
I ran back into her bathroom, but I was useless. What was I supposed to do?
When Mrs. Wright stepped inside, I lifted my hands in the air. “We have to do something,” I shouted, and Lighter groaned louder at my raised voice.
Mrs. Wright waved me out the door. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do. This happens all the time. You have to let her get through this and get herself to sleep.”
“Seriously!” I yelped. “Do you hear her? She’s in fucking pain.”
“This is a frequent occurrence, Slick. Poor girl has been dealing with this for years. She’ll get through it. I promise.”
I sighed and ran a hand along my jaw. “I can’t listen to this anymore. I have to go. Are you good?” I asked Tony. I just needed to get the hell out of there.
“Yeah, man. Go.” He waved me off.
Another cry from Lighter vibrated the walls, and my feet couldn’t move me fast enough. I tucked my tail and ran from that mess before I had to hear anything else.
* * *
After my third shot of whiskey and my second beer, everything was forgotten. I didn’t have a worry or a care in the world other than my need for human contact. A little skin-on-skin therapy was just what the doctor ordered.
Lucy agreed to stay with Chloe for a couple of extra hours while I blew off some steam at the bar. It didn’t take much convincing. She said she didn’t mind a bit to stay longer.
Once I made it out of that penthouse and far away from Lighter, I was feeling better. I told her I’d stay, had given her my word, but I just couldn’t. The way she looked and sounded with her head bent over the toilet had my stomach in knots. Her body shook as she heaved, and her blue eyes grew dark as they sank back farther into her face. The bloodcurdling sound that ripped from her throat had cut me to the core.
I shivered just thinking about it.
My back was against the wall as I sat on the last barstool. With a little wobble, the chair moved back and forth as my weight shifted. I let my eyes roam freely, looking for the lucky girl. It was going to be easier for me to catch one than it had been in the past, since I didn’t give two shits. The day was wrecked already. My beer goggles were firmly in place. All I wanted to do was bury my problems, and I already had my sights set on the lucky contender.
She’d had her eyes on me since the moment I walked into the bar. Her body language was sending me all the right signals. With a hip cocked in my direction and her eyes narrowed on mine, I felt like we’d already sealed the deal. From what I could tell, she didn’t look too bad. Again, I really didn’t care. If she was willing, then so was I.
With a crook of my finger, I motioned her toward me.
That was all it took.
Her thick hips swayed from side to side as she made the sh
ort walk over. We were on the same page; I could see it in her eyes. I already had cash in my hand for the drinks, and I slapped the bills down on the sticky bar.
Instead of sitting there making small talk, or even waiting for her to get comfortable, I flicked my head toward the dark hallway and sauntered off knowing she’d be hot on my heels. At the end of the narrow hall was a door with an exit sign shining above it. I pushed it open and glanced in both directions to make sure the coast was clear.
Damn, it smelled like shit. There were dumpsters all over the place, and the wretched smell of old garbage was wafting through the air.
“What’s your name?” she asked. Her voice sounded gruff like she smoked two packs a day.
Inching closer to her so that her back was against the bricks of the building, I shook my head. She didn’t need to know me, and I didn’t want to know her. This was purely a frustration fuck and nothing more.
My hand gripped the side of her waist just above her jean shorts. Her midsection was bare since the material on her chest was smaller than a napkin. She sucked in a breath when my fingers tightened against her skin.
“So we’re not going to talk at all?” she asked, and I had to turn away. This time her face was so close to mine that I could smell her ashtray breath and whatever else she had tucked away in there.
Christ.
With a swift movement, I turned her body all the way around. I couldn’t stand there another minute and smell her shit breath anymore. There was no way that I was taking a chance that she might try to kiss me.
I reached my hand down and rubbed her bare ass cheeks that were hanging out of the bottom of her shorts. My dick was barely standing. It was only half-hard thanks to her voice and that breath. I tried grinding myself against her ass, but that didn’t work either. I must’ve had more whiskey than I thought, ’cause it wasn’t cooperating.
She moaned, and I felt a twitch.
Okay. Well, maybe we were back in business.
I reached around the front of her shorts and rubbed my hand over them, feeling the rough denim that covered her pussy. She bucked her hips for me to rub harder.
“That feels so good,” she called out over her shoulder.
“Fuck this!” That was my last straw. That fucking breath would kill a possum. “I can’t do this. Get out of here,” I demanded.
“What… What’s wrong?”
“Just go,” I told her once more.
Parts of my life might’ve sucked, but I wasn’t ready to stoop that low. If jacking off in the shower was the only action I could get besides this chick, then I was going to wear my hand out. I couldn’t risk having her snatch smell like her breath. Fuck that.
I didn’t stand there any longer waiting for her to move. Instead I took off down the alley to the parking lot. I heard her yell something out to me, but my head was in such a fog. All I wanted to do was get out of there as fast as I could. She could be as pissed off as she wanted. I’d likely never see her again anyway.
When I made it out to the street, I flagged down a taxi and climbed into the back seat.
I thought that maybe I’d drank enough to get that crappy day out of my head. I thought I’d be able to crawl into my bed, close my eyes, and I could pass out. Boy was I wrong. Every time my eyes closed, I pictured those tear-filled blue eyes.
What had I got myself into?
Ten
Lighter
I had no idea what time of day it was or how long I’d been asleep. It didn’t feel like long though, but it never did when I woke up with a migraine hangover. My head was so sore, and my throat was raw from spending hours with my head stuffed inside the toilet. Days like these made me feel years older than I really was. It felt debilitating, and someday I feared that I’d be unable to live a normal life because of them. Not that I was living much of a normal life these days. College couldn’t come soon enough.
Careful not to make any sudden movements, I eased myself from my warm bed, sighing in relief the moment I realized my headache was gone. Usually after a night like that, the headache would be gone the next day. Usually. I didn’t get in the habit of wishful thinking.
I opened my bedroom door to let some light into my room. It was best to ease myself into it before raising my blinds. Sunlight could be a pest, and my body couldn’t take any more shock. I could use some caffeine though.
Walking back over to my nightstand, I checked my phone for the time and it was after 6:00 a.m. I doubled-checked my schedule for the day too. The tedious list of things I needed to do was a mile long. Most of it was for the fundraiser, and that wasn’t a problem. The problem was the event in bold letters under 8:00 p.m. I was my father’s plus one for some kind of charity dinner.
Damn. Black tie.
That meant dress, heels, hair, makeup…
I couldn’t catch a break if I was standing there holding a six-foot net.
After the night I’d had, I just wanted to spend the day in bed, but that wasn’t an option.
Nope. Not today.
Instead, I was going to have to put on my big-girl panties and get down to business. Luckily, Slick was off for the day. I didn’t have to worry about things being weird between us. He saw me have a complete fit in the elevator, cry into my pillow, and throw up all in one night. Didn’t get much more embarrassing than that. And to think… I’d asked him to stay with me like I was a child who needed caring for. How pathetic. There was no way I could look him in the face after making such a fool out of myself.
The house was eerily quiet as I padded my bare feet down the hallway toward the kitchen. I swear I could hear the espresso machine calling my name. Going out for coffee was great, but Mom’s fancy espresso machine could whip up a pretty nice cappuccino. My mouth was watering just thinking about it. I loved it when Mrs. Wright would add grated chocolate to the top of the foam.
Mmmmm.
When I stepped into dimly lit kitchen, I noticed that the dishwasher was running through a cycle. Mrs. Wright was up pretty early this morning. I swear that woman was like a horse. She barely slept, and when she did, she was probably standing up while doing it. There were robotic machines that worked less than she did.
I stood in front of the kitchen counter and powered on the machine. I wasn’t exactly sure how to work it, but it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist. After all, I did graduate from one of the most prestigious prep schools in the country. Surely the hundreds of thousands of dollars that my father spent on my education wasn’t a complete waste.
Pulling the gold-plated machine away from the wall, I inspected the buttons. “Wonder what this does?” I said aloud.
“Hey.”
“Shit!” I jumped, banging my elbow against the hard granite countertop. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?” I blurted out. My heart was beating frantically against my ribs.
Slick strode across the kitchen and stood next to me. “I’m working.” His deep voice filled the quiet kitchen.
Settling my breath, I finally spoke. “I thought you were off today.”
I couldn’t help noticing the deep lines along his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes. He’d obviously had a rough night. Still, he was ruggedly handsome, as much as I hated to admit it. I did, however, take comfort in knowing that I wasn’t the only one who’d had a long night.
“Trim had a family matter to take care of, so we switched shifts. He’ll be here with you tomorrow morning instead of me. Drifter will be here about seven o’clock tonight to take over,” he explained. It felt like the first real words he’d ever spoken to me. Weird, right? It was nothing like the usual hard-ass comments he spewed at me. These were real words, complete sentences, and for once he didn’t try talking down to me like I was five years old. Something was off about him, and a little piece of me worried that he was still thinking about everything that had happened last night. I didn’t want there to be weirdness between us, but I’d be lying if I said I wanted things to return to normal. Our “normal” wa
sn’t working.
“You should be able to get off sooner than that,” I replied. “I have that black-tie event tonight with my dad. He should be home early today to get ready, so you won’t have to put in all those hours.” Thirteen hours was a long day, and maybe he had a girl waiting for him at home. We never discussed personal things, at least not where he was concerned.
I shivered just thinking about it. After all the encounters the two of us had had, I’d hope that he wasn’t secretly hiding a wife at home. That’d be pretty shitty.
“We’ll see.” He leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you feeling better today?”
Damn. I closed my eyes and turned my body back toward the machine. It was wishful thinking that we had somehow managed to avoid the topic of last night. My fingers moved back to the machine so that I could at least pretend to be engrossed in something other than this conversation.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. “Just a little tired.”
“Good,” he replied.
Good. I swallowed and nodded my head. I didn’t offer any response, hoping he’d take the hint that I never wanted to discuss last night again. Yesterday would be better left forgotten. Far too many things had happened that I never wanted to relive.
But I guess one good thing came of it all. We were finally on decent terms with one another. It was a quiet understanding, but an understanding nonetheless. I’d take it.
Mrs. Wright entered the room and saved the day. Literally. “Good morning, Miss Derosa, Mr. Stevenson.”
“Stevenson?” I asked, looking up at Slick. I never knew his real name, and hearing Mrs. Wright say it kind of stunned me. It made me wonder what his first name was.
A small grin played on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh yeah?” I gave him a sidelong glance.
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
Wise guy. I smirked.
“Let me get that for you, Miss Derosa.” I felt relieved that Mrs. Wright was taking over the cappuccino making. I’d be standing there for half the morning, and I needed an excuse to get out of the room—any excuse, before our civilized conversation took a turn for the worse. It was only a matter of time.
