by Beck, J. L.
Staggering backward like I’m drunk, I harden my gaze. “Entertain me, con-artist, show me another use for that pretty mouth of yours, besides spouting off lies.”
“I hate you,” she spits through gritted teeth, the lustful haze diminishing in her eyes.
I hate myself too.
For wanting you.
For hating you.
For being stuck in this stupid house with you.
“Come on, we ain’t got all night…” I tsk impatiently.
I’m so caught up in taunting her, in feeling the lick of hate that her presence brings me, that I don’t notice the slap coming toward my cheek until it’s too late. Her hand makes contact with my cheek, and my head flies to the side with the impact of the blow.
My jaw turns to steel and my temper ignites. I’m reacting before I even get a chance to stop myself. Reaching for her, my fingers curl around her throat, my hold is surprisingly gentle for the amount of bitterness flowing through my veins. Ava’s reaction to me is petrified fear and she starts to tremble when I lean into her face, giving her delicate throat a firm squeeze.
“If you’re going to put your hands on someone, then you better be prepared for them to put their hands on you.”
“Don’t…” she croaks.
“What? Hurt you?” I tilt my head to the side, eyeing her heart-shaped face. “I could never hurt you like you hurt me, you’ve done enough of that for the two of us. I’m merely trying to show you a sliver, a fraction of the pain you made me feel.” Feeling as if I’m seconds away from crashing and burning, I release her and take a step back. Then I turn to walk away. I’m done. Done with this cat and mouse game.
Her tiny voice meets my ears a second later. “What did I do to make you hate me so much? Just tell me, Vance, please. Tell me so I can fix this. You’re making us both suffer for an unknown reason.”
“You lied, and like liars always do, they continue to lie to cover up their existing lies.”
“What did I lie about?”
There’s a plea attached to her question and I’m too exhausted to continue fighting about this right now. She makes me weak, breaks down all my perfectly constructed walls, and leaves me bleeding, always bleeding.
“Everything. All of it. I’m worth the truth, after all this time I deserve it.” I sigh and start walking toward the stairs.
“I didn’t do anything…I didn’t lie that night…” she cries, but I continue walking, each step making my heart heavier, and the knot of pain in my stomach tighter. By the time I reach my bedroom door, there’s an inkling of doubt forming. And by the time I step into the shower, it’s swirling inside my head, conjuring up different thoughts, and no matter how much I shove it away, it keeps returning.
“Wake up, Vance.” My mom’s voice drags me from sleep. Wake up, we need to leave.” She sniffles and it sounds like she’s been crying. When I peel my eyes open and I look at her, the red rings around her blue eyes confirm it. A knot of dread forms in my throat.
“What’s wrong? Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry about that now, just get up and get dressed, okay?” She wipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands.
I do as I’m told, getting up and dressed in a hurry. Mom and Dad have already packed our suitcases and before I can object to it, or even mutter another question, we are in our car and driving down the road.
“What’s going on?”
My dad’s jaw tightens at my question and my mother’s sobs grow harsher from her spot in the front seat.
“As I’m sure you know, Laura caught Ava sneaking into her room last night?”
“Yeah, I know…we were just playing a game, it was stupid. What happened? Did she get in trouble? I’ll explain everything to her mom if you want me to?”
Silence settles over the car. My mom came and got me from the treehouse ten minutes after Ava left. She told me I was grounded for a month, which I didn’t even consider a punishment since Ava would have been there regardless. I didn’t really understand why I was being grounded. I had done worse things than sneak out of the house at nine at night.
I just assumed it was because Ava had been caught. Oh, how horribly wrong I was. I’ll always remember the next words that come out of my father’s mouth like they are burned into my memory.
“She told her mom that you forced her to do it. That you threatened her to steal some of Laura’s jewelry. Why would you do that, son? Why would you threaten her?” The disappointment in my father’s tone sliced through me.
Shaking my head, I will the memory away. She’s a liar. Through and through. I know what happened that night, and I know that it was her.
She did this to us, and she’ll pay.
Pay dearly.
34
Ava
The days pass in a flurry. My mother and Henry still haven’t returned home and every second I’m left alone inside this house with Vance, another piece of my thinly worn veil crumbles. He’s wearing me down, trying to smash me like a fly, and he gets a little closer to doing so every time he opens his mouth. A tongue may have no bones, but it can break a heart just the same and that’s what he does every time he speaks to me - breaks me, and my heart.
He insults me, filets me straight down the middle, gutting me like a fish until my insides are hanging out and my heart is gushing blood across the floor.
“Hey, Ava… wait up,” a familiar voice calls from behind me. I don’t want to stop though. I just want to keep walking, walk until I’m not alone anymore, until I start to feel whole again. It takes nothing more than a second for Clark to appear beside me and I’m forced to slow to a walk.
“Why the long face, A?”
“A? Is that a nickname or something? I wasn’t aware I had made it to that status of cool yet.”
“Maybe you haven’t in Vance’s book, but you have in mine.”
“Did he put you up to this?” I question, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Clark circles me coming to stand in front of me. He’s just about as tall as Vance, but height aside, they couldn’t be any more different from each other.
He chuckles. “God no, he’s my friend, but he can’t dictate who I talk to. I’m a big boy… a very big boy, and I make my own choices.” He’s laying the flirting on thick, like icing on top of a cake, and even though I’m not in the mood to deal with that kind of shit, I can’t stop the smile from appearing on my lips. Clark brings a very small piece of happiness to my situation.
“Do you try this hard with all the ladies?”
He inhales a breath before exhaling, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack, “Usually, no. Most of the time it’s… Ooo Clark, please fuck me. Oh yes, Clark. Right there… right there... Their panties are on the floor, no questions asked.”
Snorting, I shake my head. “Now I understand why you and Vance are friends.”
“And why is that?” he teases.
“Because you’re both arrogant as hell, slightly piggish, and have egos the size of your heads.” Clark winces as if I’ve wounded him, and I feel kind of bad, having just said what I did without really knowing him.
“You wound me, A. Wound me. And yet, you intrigue me all at once. Vance hates you, which I’m sure you know by now…” Reaching out, he grasps onto a piece of my hair, twirling it around, examining it in the afternoon sun. “But I don’t… I’m curious about you. I want to be your friend. I want to get to know you.”
“You mean you want to get to know my panties.”
Dropping the lock, he grins, his smile breathtaking, perfectly straight white teeth showing from behind lightly pink parted lips.
“Well, of course, I’m a guy, and I have a dick so yeah, I want to get acquainted with your panties, more like your vagina, but I also want to get to know you. We can be friends too. Let’s have dinner… we can go to Slice It.”
Clark’s harmless in the big scheme of things, this I know. But, him getting to know me? That can’t lead to anything good. I chew on the inside of my cheek
, indecision rippling through me. This is a bad idea, a terrible idea, but I’m alone, so damn alone, and I’m tired of it. I’m desperate for some human interaction, even if it’s with the enemy’s best friend.
How sad is that?
Clark bats his eyelashes and gives me his best puppy dog look. I can’t imagine what that look gets him on a regular basis.
“Does that look usually get you whatever you want?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
“All the time, sweetheart,” Clark drawls.
Tapping on my chin with my finger, I continue to weigh my options. Go home to face an empty house, and Vance, or go to dinner with Clark, possibly making a new friend and enjoying myself? It can’t be that bad, can it? What’s the worst that happens? Vance finds out? Then what? He can’t hurt me anymore than he already has.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. Pizza, endless conversation, and you’ll get to chill with me, that’s the most amazing part of all.”
He’s… Jesus, is he full of himself.
“Fine. I’ll go, but only if you understand that this is dinner only. Dinner as friends. No date, no kissing, no sex. No funny business whatsoever.” I narrow my gaze, waiting for him to answer me. He takes a step closer, and I inhale his scent. Bold and spicy with undertones of vanilla.
“Scout’s honor, princess,” he promises, holding up two fingers. “Dinner, no funny business, though that is my favorite kind of business.”
“Not with me, it isn’t.”
We exchange numbers, even though I’m pretty sure he already has mine. I think everyone does after Vance’s most recent prank where he posted my number all over campus and on Craigslist. The asshole had people blowing up my phone all week asking for nude pictures and booty calls.
“Let’s meet back up at four near the coffee shop next to the English building,” Clark says, his eyes clashing with mine. “You know where that is right?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Yeah, I know where it is. I’ll be there. Hopefully you don’t regret hanging out with me.”
“Never, A. Never.” Shaking his head, he backpedals a couple steps. “I’ll see you later,” he exclaims before disappearing into the mass of students walking in my direction. My phone chimes in my pocket and I pull it out, my eyes falling to the time.
Shit! How the hell am I going to graduate when I can’t even make it to class on time?
* * *
We walk into the small pizza place a few hours later. The aroma of fresh basil and oregano fill the entire place, making my mouth water. I’m starving, my stomach grumbles so loudly I’m surprised Clark can’t hear it.
“How about over there.” Clark points to a secluded booth in the back.
“Sure.” I shrug. He grabs my hand and tugs me along behind him. Gazing down at our joined hands, I’m not sure what to think. He’s kind, flirtatious, yes, but he’s harmless in comparison to Vance. When we reach the booth, he lets go of my hand and we both scoot into the booth and sit down across from each other.
“So, how are things going on the home front?” Clark asks. I guess no meaningless small talk before asking the personal questions with him. I wonder if he does this on dates? If he dates at all? Probably not.
“You make it sound like it’s a war zone.”
Clark shrugs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip in that boyish way that seems to make him more attractive. “I would assume living with Vance is like a war zone. The fucker drives me insane on a daily basis and we don’t even live together.”
“Well it’s not easy, he’s constantly harassing me, pointing out my weaknesses and verbally assaulting me.”
Clark frowns. “Not that it’s an excuse, he shouldn’t try and hurt you like he is, but Vance was lost, confused for a long time after you left, fuck, he still is.”
For some reason that surprises me. I’m a poster kid for lost and confused. One would think I could recognize that a million miles away, but Vance doesn’t seem just lost and confused, he seems livid, angry beyond disbelief.
“He didn’t use to be this way,” I say, taken aback by how sad the words sound.
I miss the old Vance, I miss my friend. Clark must pick up on my sudden somber mood, because he quickly changes the subject. We talk about classes, his latest hook-up, and the pressure he feels from his father to get good grades, play baseball, and keep up the perfect son image.
I’m glad to have the attention off of me, and as we eat and continue to chat, I feel like I’m actually growing closer to him. When we part ways, I’m a little sad, but we agree to meet up again soon. The entire drive home I’m smiling, carefree, without any weight on my shoulders. Hanging out with Clark wasn’t nearly as bad as I had anticipated it to be. In fact, it was much more fun than I expected.
Ten minutes later, I’m pulling into the driveway. I kill the engine, grab my backpack off the passenger seat and walk up the concrete steps to the front door. Like a father waiting for his daughter to be dropped off from her first date, Vance opens the door before I can even grab for the door handle.
“Where have you been?” His tone is condescending and the way he’s looking at me has my stomach tumbling into a ball. Nimble fingers thread through his glossy black hair, it looks soft, like cashmere and I want to touch it, run my fingers through it.
“Out,” I growl, pushing past him and inside. Our shoulders touch briefly, and my skin tingles, the fine hairs on my arms standing on end. It’s almost like I’ve been struck by a tiny bolt of lightning. Too bad it didn’t kill me dead.
“Out? Out where? Someone said they saw you with Clark. Were you on a date? Was the lying thief using her tight cunt to con my friend?”
My mouth pops open, shock coloring my features. “Excuse me, but it wasn’t a date, and I didn’t use my—” I can’t even say the word, I’m so flabbergasted. “I didn’t have sex with him, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I’m not some floozy who sleeps with every guy she meets.” My mind flashes to Sarah, I’m not like her. He doesn’t think I’m like her, does he?
Vance’s green eyes darken. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, attempting to verbally slap him with my words like he does me every time he opens his stupid mouth.
“And you’re a liar.” He takes a step closer, the heat of his body slamming into mine. His presence makes me dizzy. I don’t know if I should slap him or kiss him. I crave his touch, but at the same time, I don’t. This, whatever it is that’s taking place between us, is exhausting.
“Whatever, Vance. You’ll think whatever you want to, no matter how much I defend myself.” Refusing to give him even another moment of my time, I head toward the stairs. I’ve got a pile of homework to do and I want to get a little reading in before bed. Neither of those things will get done if I stand here trying to defend myself against someone who refuses to tell me what I’ve done wrong. I make it all of two steps before his warm hand is circling my arm and pulling me backward.
Bumping into his firm chest, I try and whirl around, but Vance is fast, and using his height and body he easily overpowers me. With both hands gripping onto my arms, he holds them behind my back, guiding me to the nearest wall, only releasing me once my face is pressed against the cream-colored wall.
“Did you think about me when he touched you?” His voice is thick, and I feel my pussy clenching around nothing. Why does he have to be so stupidly handsome, and why do I have to be attracted to him. He hates me, while I pretend to hate him because the alternative would be unbearable.
We can’t do this.
We shouldn’t be doing this.
“He didn’t touch me, and no, I never think about you,” I lie. Fuck it. I might as well live up to the name he keeps calling me.
I think about you all the time.
“Me either. I never think about you.” His fingers trail down my arm, and goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch. I want to lean into him, let him burn me, because I know if I give myself to him, he will, he’ll burn me so badly I won’t
even recognize myself when he’s done with me. His hand drops to my hip, and my chest heaves, my lungs tightening. An entire zoo of butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Oh lord. “Did he touch you here?” Those devilish lips of his press against the shell of my ear, and I tip my head back against his firm chest, my eyes drifting closed while I give myself over to the pleasure of his touch. His deft fingers skim across the front of my yoga pants, and my burning hot center.
“Did he?” he mumbles against my skin, and it feels like I’m on fire, literal fire. He’s burning me with the tips of his fingers, branding my flesh with his mark.
“Are you wet with need for him, or is that all for me?”
“No,” I whisper, my body humming as he runs his finger over my bikini line and back to my hip, kneading the flesh there.
Something’s wrong with me, something’s very… I don’t even get to finish that thought because he’s slipping his hand into my pants, his fingers ghosting over the edge of my panties.
“Tell me to stop… God, please tell me to stop, Ava.”
Hunger vibrates from his chest. He wants me just as badly as I want him, and for some reason that gratifies me.
Knowing he wants me while hating me at the same time. It makes me feel powerful, like I actually stand a chance against him. Tension hangs thickly between us, and just like a rubber band snapping under pressure, Vance snaps, losing his ability to make the right choice. His fingers slip beneath my panties, and I suck in a greedy breath, feeling like I’ll never be able to breathe again.
“This is wrong...so wrong. But it feels so right, doesn’t it? Tell me it feels right.” His voice drags on, his lips sucking on a patch of skin beneath my ear.
“Yes,” I admit breathlessly, leaning into him even more, wishing there wasn’t any fabric at all between us. God, I want to feel him. Want him to touch me. Take from me. I want him to show me how much he hates me, but instead of his words, I want him to use his hands.
