Ruthless Heart

by Eve L Mitchell

  “Only a Santo would fuck the teacher before an assignment allocation,” Wade muttered to me.

  “Devil,” I corrected him as I watched Ash take his time to climb the low-rise stairs to the back of the class. His last name was Santo, which meant he and the twins were untouchable. In my opinion, it meant they were dicks.

  A dick that I had slept with, and if that didn’t make me the biggest fucking hypocrite, I didn’t know what did.

  “Hey, why so sad?” Wade asked me. “I thought I warned you it was assignment day?”

  Looking up at him, I forced myself to look happier. “You did, I’m ready to ace it, you?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Wade rolled his eyes as he strummed his knuckles off the desk to a beat only he heard.

  “I’d offer to help you, my friend, but we both know I need you for this class.”

  “In that case, we’re both fucked.”

  With the mood between us lighter, we turned our attention to the professor, who had finally started the lecture. As she started running through what the assignment would consist of, I did wonder idly who would mug or steal from Jett? He had been fine earlier. Wade nudged my leg with his to get me to pay attention, and it worked. It really had nothing to do with me if Jett had something taken from him.

  Nothing at all.

  Arriving home later that afternoon, I heard her voice before I’d even come up the steps to our apartment. Mia was practicing. I hated to disturb her when she was practicing, so I always tried to make as little noise as possible. Dumping my bag, I started getting stuff from the fridge so I could make dinner.

  Mia never ate properly unless I cooked. She went through fad diets constantly, and before freshman year ended, she had given up solids and was on a liquid diet. Not the fun kind either.

  I had done a store run recently though, so hot chicken was on the menu tonight. Knowing she would complain about the carbs from the bread, I was making it with white rice instead. Still carbs, but Mia had a love-hate relationship with bread, and currently she was in hate mode. How anyone could choose to hate bread…I didn’t understand, but there were some crazies out there.

  Listening to her sing as I cooked relaxed me. Mia had the most beautiful voice and had been so happy when she got accepted into the music programme to do a Bachelor of Arts in music with a side helping of computer science. I never questioned her minor. She was good at design and was eager to learn code…or something equally mind-numbing, mind-numbing to me anyway.

  Music was where she excelled. Her voice was her instrument, and she had a huge range. Mia was tall, but I swear her lungs were triple in capacity. Wade had begged her many times to be his singer in the band, but Mia always refused. Country rock was not for her. Even when he swore he would change the whole band’s genre and dynamic, Mia said no. He didn’t know that even though she could sing like an angel, Mia hated the limelight.

  Which was kinda odd because she was insanely popular. In our high school choir, she had blended in and downplayed her voice until junior year when she knew she needed the credit for her application here, so one day, she stepped forward and floored her fellow choristers with her voice.

  As I poured canned tomatoes into a saucepan, I listened to her as she was currently singing gospel choir songs. Making the tomato sauce for dinner, I found myself humming along with her as I cooked, the tension from the last few days easing away.

  When dinner was ready, I knocked on her door gently. “MeeMoo,” I called. “Supper’s ready.”

  The door flung back, and she launched herself at me, arms wrapping around me as she squealed with happiness. “Did you hear me hit that C sharp?”

  “Sure.”

  “You work for a band, you live with a major in music; how can you not even know what C sharp sounds like?”

  “Was it the screechy part?” I teased, pulling her behind me as I went back to the kitchen. When she peered over my shoulder, I turned my head slightly to see her frown at her dinner. “Shut up and eat. I don’t care what you’re dieting for, you need to eat.”

  “I do eat,” she protested as she picked up her bowl and fork and headed to the couch. “Thank you for steaming the rice,” she added as she sat down.

  “Of course.” It was best to let the subject drop. We didn’t need to fight over this. Not again.

  “Hey, did you hear about your favourite football player?” Mia asked as she took a forkful of food, her eyes rolling back as she groaned. “Oh my gosh, this is divine.”

  “Jett?” I asked. “Wade said he got mugged?”

  “Jett?” Mia stopped chewing. “Santo?” Her eyes widened. “When did he become your favourite?”

  I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable that my head went straight to Jett. “Who were you talking about?”

  “Dante. Dante Spence, you know your huge crush?” Mia ate more chicken, her eyes dancing with laughter. “But I’m ready to hear about how he was usurped by a Devil.”

  I snorted at the terminology as I shovelled food into my mouth. “Devil’s right.”

  Throwing her head back on the couch, she yelled, “Tell me!”

  “It’s not important.” Waving my fork at her, I urged her to talk. “Tell me all about Dante.”

  “He is apparently newly single.”

  My fork dropped. My jaw dropped. My face reddened. “No...” I breathed. “Mia, don’t tease me.”

  “Yes, I saw it on his Instagram. You know it’s over with if it’s on social media.” Mia laughed lightly. “How long do you think it will take him to get from Alabama to here to knock the door down?”

  “Bitch.” I grinned as I picked up my fork. “It could happen,” I said playfully. “I’m sure he has thought about me as much as I’ve thought about him.”

  “Ava, the guy’s an idiot.”

  “He’s delicious,” I corrected her.

  “Ava, you’ve spoken to this nincompoop three times. Each time, he’s been so unbearably dull. I swear I was asleep last time.”

  “You couldn’t possibly have been asleep, you were sucking the face off the wide receiver.”

  Mia grinned at me and winked as she ate her supper. “Oh yeah, I knew something more fun than listening to him was happening.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she looked at me critically. “Three times, and he hasn’t even asked your name. All you spoke about was football.”

  “I like football,” I reminded her.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “When did they break up?” I asked her eagerly.

  “I don’t know, his status changed to newly single.” Mia eyed me as she scraped the bowl. “That was delicious.”

  Finishing my own food, I shrugged at the compliment. “Needed more seasoning, I think.”

  Mia said nothing as she took my bowl off me and went to the sink. “So, tell me about Jett.”

  “Huh? Oh, nothing much, Wade said he got mugged.”

  Mia looked far more interested in that than the object of my desire’s newly single status. “Who, when, where, and what did they take?”

  “I don’t know.” Standing, I checked the time on my phone. “Any of it. I’m sure, by the time we come back tonight, you’ll be able to tell me.”

  With a shove, my best friend followed me to my bedroom. “Hey, thanks for getting the AC fixed. It was actually pleasant to come home to.”

  Should I tell her who she should thank? With her level of interest in Jett, I thought it best not to. “I didn’t do much.” Which was true, I hadn’t done anything. As I got my clothes out for tonight, I listened as Mia told me about her day. It was the most normal two hours I had spent since Friday.

  Hoping that I was back to my normal self, I laughed along with my best friend. Which is why when we left later to meet Wade and the band, I was feeling happier and looking forward to a couple of hours of handing out flyers and listening to some good music. With Mia by my side and the two of us talking about anything and nothing, all was right in the world again.

  A strong hand ra
n down my spine as the other hand gripped my wrists in front of me, holding them together. My head was turned to the side, my cheek lay flat against the bed, and my moan, as fingers traced lightly over my ass, was loud.

  His arm slid around my waist as he pulled me onto my knees. When he bent over my back, his grip on my wrists was gone. I felt a knee spread my legs more, and with one surge of his hips, he was inside me. His arm stayed wrapped around my waist as his other hand skimmed up my back, his fingers threading into my hair as he pulled me upwards.

  I was nothing but sensation. Fingers loosening from my hair, his hand glided lightly over my skin before wrapping around my throat, his thrusts becoming harder as I practically sat in his lap.

  “What do you want?” he whispered into my ear.

  “More,” I answered as my body bounced on his.

  “Good.” He shoved me roughly back onto the bed, and my cry of surprise was muffled as I landed face-first onto the mattress. On hands and knees, I begged for more. I heard myself demand he fuck me harder, and I heard his answering laugh as he did as I instructed.

  It was too much. The feeling in my toes was spreading up my legs. Every feeling, every touch, every awareness of him was all being drowned out by the rapidly building pressure in my core, I was going to erupt. I could feel it.

  And so could he.

  “Come for me,” he ordered harshly in my ear.

  I did.

  I heard his answering roar, and then I was falling.

  My eyes snapped open as I lay on my bed, sweat trickling down my body. Awareness rushed back to me as I realised I was not in some heavy sex session, but I was in fact alone, in my bed, having another hot dream about my least favourite quarterback.

  Sitting up, I wiped my hand across the back of my neck. I could still feel his fingers there. His phantom touch was screwing with my head.

  Getting out of bed, I turned to look at the mess of the tangled sheets. It looked like I had been in a fight with the sheets and lost.

  With an unhappy sigh, I headed to the kitchen to get some water. Running the faucet to let the water cool, I waited for a few moments. Because our apartment was so small, we didn’t have a big fridge, and mom had bought us a filter that attached straight to the faucet. As I filled my tumbler, I focused on forcing his body from my subconscious. It had to stop. Two nights in a row. I was exhausted, and I needed to sleep without him waiting for me in my dreams.

  I was not a person who did well with no sleep. In fact, I was a monster with sleep deprivation. No amount of Red Bull would save me tomorrow, or any other energy drink. Nothing would be able to elevate my mood. I had Leitch first thing tomorrow morning too; I needed the z’s, or I may be in danger of getting flung out of his class if he bitched at me. There would be no holding back my snark if I didn’t go to bed and sleep.

  Checking the time, I fought my frustration when I saw it was ten after four. Three hours, before I was due to get up. Please let me have three hours, I prayed as I headed back to my room.

  “You okay?” Mia asked me as she came out of the bathroom.

  “Yeah, thirsty,” I mumbled as I walked past her.

  “You want the AC turned up higher?” Mia asked as she hesitated at her own bedroom door. “You’re sweating.”

  “I think I’m getting sick,” I lied.

  “Oh no, should I get the cough medicine?”

  “Nah, sleep is all I need.” With a tired smile, I closed the door as I heard her run the faucet in the kitchen. Setting my water down, I turned to the bed, straightening my sheets and fluffing my pillows. “Fuck you, Jett Santo, you do not get to come into my bed anymore,” I told the pillow in my hand fiercely. “Enough is enough, let me sleep.” Finishing my water, I got back into bed.

  Curling onto my side, I stared at the bedroom wall and thought about earlier. The bar had been fun. The bouncers and the wait staff knew we were underage, but since we were only drinking Coke, they left us to it. I had visited every table, spoken to a handful of people, and passed out every flyer telling them where the band was playing next week.

  Wade’s band was good tonight. The new guitar player was great, and the guy singing was cute as well as a good singer. Plus, they all seemed to like each other, and the look on Wade’s face at the end of the set suggested that he had high hopes for this group to gel better than their predecessors.

  Mia had also had fun, and she and the new singer had gotten on well. Mia would make anyone relax; she was bubbly, bright, and easy to talk to.

  The new guitarist, Shane, had been quiet, but his light stubble, dirty blond hair and easy smile had made him easy to watch. Wade had teased me about liking him too much, but when I shushed him, he didn’t say anything further. But I saw his pleased smile when Shane asked for my number. Mia of course took my indecision out of my hands as she put my number directly into Shane’s phone.

  Wade dropped us off at the apartment, and after chatting about the night over a cup of tea, we had gone to bed...where my night had taken a sour turn. A few hours later, I was awake, staring at the wall and once again thinking about an arrogant, entitled, dickhead quarterback.

  Who had gotten my AC fixed.

  With a groan, I flipped onto my back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

  I’d thanked him. We both had a strong distaste for each other. There was nothing left to think about. So I lost my virginity to him. Fine. I couldn’t get it back, and I needed to stop mourning the loss of it.

  Shane seemed nice. Shane might call. Shane might even ask me out when he called. Shane had nice brown eyes. Shane was a step in the right direction. So why, when I closed my eyes to try and sleep, did only steely blue eyes stare back at me? Light blue eyes framed with thick dark lashes. With a strangled scream, I threw my now empty tumbler across the room.

  “You okay, Ava?” Mia called to me through the wall.

  “Yeah, thought I felt a bug,” I called back, flinching at the lie.

  “Go to sleep, it’s late.”

  Yes, I know. I’m trying. With a hand pressed firmly over my eyes to keep them shut, I took deep calming breaths.

  I knew why I couldn’t sleep, apart from the porn rerun in my head; it wasn’t the only thing keeping me awake. Mia had found out what happened to Jett on Friday. The rumours were rife that someone had stolen something from him. No one was clear as to whether it was his wallet or something else, but the word on campus was that the Devils were hunting because Satan himself was angry.

  Is that how we met? Had I been helping him search for what was lost? Should I approach him and ask? But then how did that explain that he didn’t recognise me? If someone had been helping me after I lost something, I would remember who they were. Regardless of my last name.

  However, helping someone, even a Devil, was something that I’d totally do. I considered it more as I thought it through. He lost something or something was taken, and I offered to help him find it…on my way home? Absolutely not one person had said to me that they saw me talking to Jett Santo on Friday. I had been with Mia, we had run into Wade, and he was the one who told me earlier tonight that I lost at beer pong and took the forfeit of double shots. Ignoring warnings, I was insistent I could win but kept losing…hence the complete wastedness.

  By that time, Mia had met whatever-his-name-was and was in the land of exploratory hook-up bliss. Wade left early, but he said that he saw me and a guy getting cosy. The guy was Mia’s hair shampoo commercial guy, but no one knew what his name actually was. What they both confirmed was that neither Jett, his brother, nor Ash…had been anywhere near our party.

  I still had a gaping hole in my already blank memory of when and how I met Jett. But it did narrow it down to the fact I really must have met him on the way home.

  Sitting up in bed, I drew my knees to my chest. The party was on Oakwood, I lived on Blossom, there was half a campus between my apartment and the party on Friday. Even with the distance, I still had no reason to pass where the football stars stayed.

&
nbsp; Had I decided to walk the campus? Alone? It wasn’t something I usually did, but then getting wasted wasn’t something I did either. My head dropped onto my knees as I gave up. I would probably never know. I was getting flashbacks of X-rated memories but nothing that led to the before or the after. Not until I woke up and heard him and Ash in the room. The only signals my brain was receiving was the during, and sure, for my first time, I seemed to have done well if the moans I heard when I closed my eyes were anything to go by…but I needed more. I felt my body heat at the thought of more with Jett, but I think my body and my brain knew it was a one-time thing.

  Lying back down again, I fleetingly thought of asking him. As briefly as the idea came, I shoved it away. After all, there was no need to deliberately poke the beast. Especially one that was already on the hunt.

  It seemed all morning the only thing people could talk about was that someone had stolen off of a Santo, and the Triad were out for blood. I tried not to listen, but as with all things like this, the more I tried not to, the more I heard.

  First it was his wallet. Then no, it wasn’t his wallet, it was his watch. By mid-morning, after said “victim” was seen with his watch on, it was his car key. This one made no sense to me as I would have guessed that his key was easy to replace since the car was sitting on the driveway of their house. Sure enough, by lunchtime, it wasn’t his car key but his car. Again, that was preposterous—the car was right there. I was beginning to lose interest in the whole “who stole from the Devil” saga, but I grudgingly felt bad for him if he had lost something. However, if I were honest, I felt worse for whoever the poor sucker was who stole it from him.

  Their life wouldn’t be worth living.