by C. J. Welles
I’ve just stripped out of my clothes and flopped down on my bed when there is a knock at the door. I inwardly groan and pull the covers up over my naked body. Krystal slowly walks in when I call out to her. She looks uncertain and nervous. I probably would too. I did get fired up last night, and I’ve never yelled at her before.
She lays next to me on the bed when I gesture We both stay silent for a few minutes. I sigh “I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night.” It was a little uncalled for. She is just looking out for me.
“It’s okay, Honey. Do you want to tell me about it?”
No. No, I fucking well don’t. I want to yell.
I feel like a real bitch and lousy friend, but I genuinely didn’t want to tell her. I’ve never told anyone before. It’s not something I want people to know about. And it’s especially not something people want to hear.
“I didn’t have the best teenage years in life.” I lived in hell. “I don't want to talk about it, sorry Krystal. It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. You are my closest friend. Honestly, you’re the only one I class as a friend.” I see her eyes water and I lean over and hug her. “Don’t cry,” I say in her ear.
“I’m not crying. I’m just touched you say I’m your best friend. But sad that you say I’m your only friend,” she whispers.
“It’s true. sweetheart.”
“How have you not had friends? You’re beau-”
I cut her off before she can say anything else “Do not say anything else,” I say between clenched teeth, with my jaw grinding back and forth.
I am not beautiful. I am far from beautiful. All my body has ever been, is an ugly playground for an evil monster. I might be skinny and have luscious blonde hair, but I am not beautiful. That evil man has tarnished my soul.
I look to Krystal who has a shocked look on her face. She doesn’t move. It’s as if my words have frozen her.
And here I am acting like a bitch again.
I contemplate for a moment whether I should say anything. After a long agonizing minute, I talk. “Look, what I’m about to say, I do not want to talk about. I will say it once then it won’t get mentioned again.” I stare into her big brown eyes waiting for a response. Eventually, she nods.
I can do this. I can tell Krystal. She is my best friend. She saved me from a life on the streets. She didn’t even ask me at the time how I ended up there. She just took me in.
Taking a big breath, I blurt it out so quickly I don’t think I even understand what I say. “My step-father raped me when I was eighteen,” I whisper then drop my head, not wanting to see her face. Not waiting to see the look of utter pity. I don’t want her to treat me differently. I am still me; the same one I was the day she met me.
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, such a long moment I think she didn’t understand me. I look up and her eyes are open wide with shock, and her mouth is agape.
“I didn’t… I never...” She shakes her head. “I knew about the state you were in when you were out on your own. But… Rape. He raped you?” I nod. “Was he the f-” I cut her off before she can say anything else.
Questions are why I have kept it to myself. I can’t deal with them. Every day I struggle to keep the unanswered questions out of my thoughts. Keep them hidden in a tiny box in the back of my mind. I rarely succeed, but I try.
“Krystal, no questions. I am alive, and I got out of the place. I am happy here. I love living with you, and I am lucky to have you as a friend. What I do for a job, people may think is wrong. But it doesn’t bother me, and it’s my life.” I watch as she nods and wipes away tears.
I wait for her to ask something else, but she doesn’t, and I feel my body relax. “Any chance I can go to sleep now? I only just got in.”
She frowns. “Yeah, I heard.” I raise my eyebrows. “Don’t worry I’m not going to say anything.” She gives me a quick hug before leaving.
I roll onto my belly and welcome sleep, even though I know the nightmares are going to be there waiting for me. They visit me every night. Digging into my past will only have them hitting me harder this time.
*
Jace
I WAKE TO a banging on my door. I’m still fully dressed and face first on the bed. My head is pounding, and the banging makes it worse. I mumble, “Fuck off,” but it’s with a pathetic effort. I never drank during the NFL season, and now I'm twenty-seven and have other responsibilities I usually don’t feel like it. I reluctantly roll to my back and groan as the room spins. I hate drinkin’, and I hate hangovers.
Dragging myself from the bed, I feel like I’m on a fucking ship in the Atlantic Ocean, as I stumble over to the door and fling it open. There stands Bryson looking wide awake and laughing at me. If I could manage it, I would strangle him.
“You look like shit,” he says, pointing out the obvious.
“Shut up asshole,” I grumble and flop down on the bed. “How and why are you awake this early?” I ask, looking over at him.
A look passes across his face but then he smiles a smug smile. “Got woken up when the chick I fucked last night left.” He never holds anything back.
I shake my head then regret it immediately. “That’s where you disappeared to last night. And you woke me why?” I grumble.
He shrugs. “Got bored. You ready to go?”
“Bryson it’s-” I pull my cell out and look at the time. “only eight. Fuck off. Go back to bed,” I groan and roll to my stomach and pull a pillow over my head.
“Man, you’re like an old man. Hurry up and get up.” He leaves, but not before picking my pillow up and hitting me over the head with it.
He would be dead if I had the energy.
An hour later, I amble out of my room and downstairs, still with a headache. I only emptied my entire stomach contents twice. Twice!
Ethan, Bryson and the twins are sitting at a table eating breakfast. Just looking at food makes me want to puke. I glance at Ethan and am glad he looks as terrible as I feel.
Pulling out a chair, I drop down and grab a glass of water. I guzzle it down before talking, “You look as shit as I feel,” I say.
“Nope you look shittier than I feel,” he replies with a weak attempt at arguing.
“You know what?” Bryson says, and we look to him “You both look like fuckin’ shit. Now hurry up so we can go,” he growls, then gets up and stomps outside.
“Good to see he’s in a good mood,” I mumble as I stand to leave. There’s no way am I eating.
Even though it’s my truck and I never let anyone drive it, I’m too tired and hungover to care, so Bryson drives us home. I’m sitting in the passenger seat nearly asleep when Ryan and Nath start talking. They go on and on chatting about nothing for half an hour. I’m almost tempted to kick them out into the truck bed. My head is still pounding like a herd of cattle.
“So, who was the poor chick you ended up with last night?” Ryan asks Bryson; I assume since none of us ended up taking anyone to the hotel with us.
He doesn’t answer for a minute, and I turn my head to look at him. He is grinding his jaw like a madman “Just some chick I picked up.”
“Who? The stripper?”
His fists tighten around the steering wheel, “Yeah. Now shut up.” Oh jeez, this chick has Bryson with his pants in a knot.
Bryson and I drop everyone off then head to my house where he left his car. “What’s got you worked up over this chick?” He looks to me but doesn’t answer. “Come on Bry. You look like you want to rip someone’s head off.”
“Nothin’ man.” He shrugs “I asked her if she wanted to get together tonight and she turned me down,” he mumbles.
I burst out laughing, and he growls.
“Fuck up. She was nice. But she said she wouldn’t meet up again. Anyway, who cares? She was just a piece of ass; I can get a different one tonight.” I laugh harder. I like this chick. It’s nearly worth the punch to the arm, seeing Bryson lose his cool.
I’d love to meet her. She must
be something special because no one makes Bryson lose his cool.
“Talking about ass, yours is here waiting for you.” I turn to the house and see Kaylee sitting on the porch with mom.
“She ain’t mine. She’s just a casual fuck.”
“You won’t want Ethan hearin’ you talk like that.” I ignore him and jump out of the car and stomp up the steps.
“You look like shit,” Kaylee says when I drop down next to her on the seat.
“That’s what I said,” Bryson calls out.
“Hey darlin’,” mom says as she walks towards me and leans down to kiss my head.
“Hey Ma,” I reply.
“How was your night?”
“Good. Didn’t do much,” I lie. Like hell do I want my ma to know what I got up to last night.
“Sure,” she says, and I know she doesn’t believe me. “Well, Y'all come inside when you’re ready. I’ll make some food,” mom says as she walks to the door.
“I’m heading off Mrs. T, but thanks,” Bryson replies.
“Alright, see you later,” I hear mom call out as she walks down the hall inside the house.
When they both leave, it’s just Kaylee and me sitting there. She shuffles closer and kisses my neck as she rubs her hand over my semi-hard cock. Of course, it’s hard. It knows what Kaylee does for us.
She pulls away and stands up. “Want to join me in the barn?” she asks. We used to sneak out to the barn to have sex when we were younger. I go to answer yes. But remember I took the stripper in her change room last night. I know I am a guy and all, but my man whore days are over. “Na darlin’, maybe another time,” I answer.
She drops her bottom lip but walks inside without arguing. Thank fuck. I don’t think my head could take it. I’d probably end up rolling over and giving her whatever she wanted. Walking inside, I find mom cooking biscuits and gravy along with bacon, eggs, and sausages. My stomach grumbles but I’ll eat just because it’s my mom.
After I manage to eat breakfast and keep it down, I head up to my room to sleep the day away. A minute later my door opens, and Kaylee walks in. I want to groan but refrain from doing so. She ain’t done nothing wrong. “What’s up Kaylee girl?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to lay with you.” She stands there staring at me with a hopeful look.
I nod. “Okay.” Why the fuck not? I’m single. I don’t have to answer to anyone.
She climbs on the bed next to me, and I roll over on top of her. I kiss up her neck to her ear. “Is this what you want Kaylee?” I ask, and she nods.
For the next half hour, we have sex, then the rest of the day I spend sleeping.
∞∞∞
Chapter 5
Jace
Five Months Later
ON WEDNESDAY, WE had dad’s funeral service and burial. He passed away Friday last week from a heart attack. He went to bed healthy on Thursday night, then Friday morning when I went out to the stables at seven, I found him on the floor unconscious. I called 911 and tried to do CPR until the ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later, but they announced him dead on arrival. They said there was nothing I could have done to help him; that it was too late.
Monday, we had his viewing, where family and friends come along to say their condolences. I now know how everyone else feels when I’ve gone to a funeral and said, ‘Sorry for your loss’ and ‘He was a good man’ and whatever else I’ve told people in the past.
It doesn’t change the numb feeling I have.
It doesn’t change the fact that he is gone.
It doesn’t change the fact that my poor, sweet mom is now a widow.
Mom said we can get through it together, but I don’t know if that is true. Every night she lays in bed crying. I can hear her from down the hall. I don’t blame her at all. Some mornings, all I want to do is lay in bed and forget about the whole fact he won’t be sitting at the kitchen table, or he won’t be in the stables riding my ass when I’m late.
Mom chose to have a closed casket, which I respected. She said it was too difficult to see him. At funerals in the past, I never could look at the deceased person. Some people like to say goodbye to them that way, but I just can’t.
I’m only twenty-seven, and I’ve just lost my fifty-year-old dad. It’s a big fucking shock. He’s always been active and eaten healthy. I never thought that I’d have to say goodbye to him so young. Some days, I thought he’d outlive me. We’d be out in the paddocks bailing hay or throwing out feed for the horses, and I’d struggle to keep up with him.
It just doesn’t feel real that he’s gone.
It’s now Friday night, and I’m heading to Dallas to spend a night getting trashed. I love my mom dearly, and I am here for her as much as she needs. But tonight, I need a night for me.
I need to forget that my dad is gone.
I need to try and erase the image of him lying on the floor, not breathing. I need to forget, for a moment, that he could still be here if I had have turned up on time.
Yeah, I was late to work once again.
I was too late to try to save my dad’s life. I should have been there, I was meant to be there at six, but I slept in again. My mom is alone now because my father died when I wasn’t there when I should have been.
He was always hounding me about showing up earlier. But every morning, I would hit the snooze button and sleep for another half hour. If I had have just listened to what he had been saying for the past nearly year, I would have been there for him. Instead, I let him down again. This time I can’t make it up to him though.
It’s just after eight when I pull up outside the Renaissance hotel. I leave my truck with the valet guys and head to the lobby to check in. Once I’ve got the key, I race up to my room and grab a quick shower.
Dressed in a black button down and clean Levi’s, I pull my boots on before heading downstairs to grab a cab. Fifteen minutes later I’m standing on the sidewalk of Elm Street outside Platinum girls. Last time I was asked to come here I cracked the shits about it until I got here.
Tonight, it’s just what I need. Tonight, this place is going to make me forget.
I find a table to the side of the room. I feel a little creepy turning up to a stripper joint by myself, but Ethan is too far away at short notice, and I know Bryson would give me hell after last time.
I see the girl I had sex with last time, finishing up on stage. She was a sweet chick and good at what she does, but she isn’t what I want tonight.
I don’t actually know what I want.
I just need to feel.
But not the ache I feel in my chest when I think of dad.
I tip my beer back and skull it until its empty and push away any thoughts. Ordering another beer, I watch the girls while they dance. I don’t pay for any dances, but if one walks past I slip her a few dollars. They deserve it, with having me sitting here leering at them.
Not in a creepy way though.
I’ve been here for two hours, like a creeper, when some smoking hot petite blonde walks out from behind the curtains. When I look at her face, my heart beats out of my chest. I am frozen to the spot as I watch her walk across the stage into the middle.
She is beautiful.
Naturally beautiful with her wavy blonde hair hanging down to her tiny waist. She is short; only about five foot two, maybe three. She is wearing a hot red dress that doesn’t cover much.
She looks exactly like what I need tonight.
I watch her dance and shake her tiny hips to Tonight I’m Fucking You by Enrique Iglesias.
I am mesmerized by her dancing.
After slowly stripping off her dress she is left only wearing a leopard print corset and black boots that run all the way to her knees. There is a tiny scrap of material that girl’s class as thongs, and that may as well not exist it’s so small.
This tiny little blonde bombshell is something.
When she steps down to the floor, I see her glance at me.
Yes baby, come this way.
She st
ops a few tables away from me, and I want to get up and punch the man she is dancing for. When he slides some bills into her bra, I need to stop myself from pouncing on him and beating him to a pulp.
Calm the fuck down; you don’t even know her.
I am jealous of some stranger getting all her attention. What the ever-loving fucking hell?
When the song ends, another girl comes on stage, but I keep my eyes on the blonde girl as she makes her way towards me. “That’s it, baby,” I mumble to myself.
As she nears, I see she has stunning cornflower blue eyes that sparkle from the lights. And it just about knocks me off my chair.
The pull this girl has over me.
My eyes lock on hers. I don’t think I could move even if the place caught on fire. She steps up in front of me with a questioning look on her face, but I don’t move. I only focus on her beautiful face. After a long moment of us gazing at each other, she goes to walk off. I stand, grabbing her wrist and pull her back. She stares up into my eyes as I lift my hand to her stunning face and run my thumb over her slightly parted lips. They are full and satin soft.
I feel her shiver as I gently graze my thumb down her neck and across her chest. Running my thumb along the edge of her top I whisper, “Stay with me, Angel,” I say next to her ear.
She reminds me of a small delicate angel with how petite she is. I’ve never come across anyone as tiny as her.
Her lips part more, and she nods. She finally talks, and her voice sounds smooth and velvety. “Let me get dressed,” she softly says, and I let out a relieved sigh.
I let her go and watch her as she sashays across the room and through the door. I patiently wait and pray she isn’t escaping out the back door. A girl has never had this effect on me before.
*
Callie
ONCE I'M in the hall and out of sight, I lean against the wall and catch my breath. I can still feel the goosebumps all over my body from when he touched me. I was so stunned I couldn’t breathe. The zing I felt from his whisper light touch was crazy.
