by Amo Jones
Okay, so they were obviously more serious than I thought.
I lean back on her car, blowing out a gust of breath and folding my arms in front of myself. “Well, that’s fine.”
“No,” Madison shakes her head. “You see because h—”
A large black SUV pulls up behind our car and I turn toward it, shading the headlights with my hand.
“Tillie, get in the car,” she murmurs softly, and I watch as her face morphs from anger to complete and utter fear.
“What?” I turn toward the SUV before coming back to her. “Why?”
Her face pales and she springs forward, but it’s too late, a hand is covering my mouth and a black sack is being shoved over my head. I scream, kicking and punching thin air.
“I swear to god!” Madison screams, but then she goes silent and I’m being thrown into the backseat of the SUV as if I weigh nothing.
“What the fuck!” I yell, but a rope is being tied around my neck and then—shit! It tightens and my breathing shallows. I start panicking, trying to suck in more air but I find the more I panic, the thicker my breathing. Sweat starts trickling down my temple. We’re driving away quickly and handcuffs are being clasped around my wrists. “Who the fuck are you?”
I’m met with silence again.
The drive carries on for another ten or so minutes before the SUV takes a hard left and the engine cuts out. Hands grip around my upper thighs and yank me down the seat.
A door opens behind me and I’m tossed out, rolling through loose branches and stones.
“You have about a ten-second head start…” The voice is filtered with a recorder.
“I don’t know where I’m going!” I yell, frustrated.
“Nine.”
I bolt forward, ignoring my fear of accidentally running straight off a cliff. Wind zaps past me.
Seven.
Six.
I start to count down as my legs pick up speed. The skies open up and thunder claps angrily just as the first droplets of rain begin trickling down my cheek.
I scream a little, taking a hard right. Blinded, I have no idea where I’m going, but I need to at least try to run. Something deep inside of my brain, though, is telling me that I shouldn’t have run. That maybe whoever it is, wanted me to run. Images of the man who called me that night and tried to get me into his SUV flash through my brain and fear ripples through me again as my legs gain speed.
One.
They’re coming. I’m battling with myself right now on what I should do. Hide, even if I don’t know if I’m really hiding, or keep running even though the fear of someone chasing me is enough to figuratively chop my legs off. Before I can take another step, a body crashes down behind me and then I’m falling, mud sloshing against my chest.
My voice challenges the rain hitting curved leaves and rocks as I scream, “What do you want!”
The rope that’s tied around the sack over my head loosens, the handcuffs unlatching from my wrists. I tear the sack from my head and let the darkness of the forest fall over me. Holy crap. Rain pours over my face and leaks into my eyes, my hair matted down against my cheeks.
“What aren’t you telling me, princess…”
“Nate!” I yelp, but he shoves my face into the ground again, turning me around onto my back. Pressing his forearm into my throat, my eyes search his frantically. “What do you mean!”
“I know you’re walking us into a trap, Tillie. You showing up out of nowhere, calm and collected about your psycho sister stealing Micaela, it doesn’t fucking piece up right.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
He shoves me again, his mouth coming down to the side of my neck. “Don’t lie to me, Tillie.”
“I’m not!” I yell, rearing up to his face until our nose tips touching. “I fucking said I’m not lying to you, Nate. She took her, and then dumped me back at Madison’s. What more do you want from me?”
“Is that a serious question?” He growls, and my heart thunders in my chest at the soft caress of his fingertip sliding over my collarbone. “Because right now.” He grinds himself against me. I slam my eyes closed in an attempt to mentally remove myself from the onslaught of sensations that he’s thrashing into me. “There’s a whole fucking lot that I want from you that what you’ve had a taste of wouldn’t even classify as a snack.”
I yank my face away from him. “Your games aren’t going to work on me, Nate. I’m not one of your preppy princesses. You can’t break what you didn’t build.”
He chuckles, and then he wraps his fingers around my chin, yanking my face up so that I’m glaring right at him. “You saying I haven’t contributed to the fucked-up shit that goes on in that pretty little head, princess, huh?”
I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t say that, but you didn’t break me, Nate. I was damaged when you found me, you just inflicted more scars.” I’m frustrated with his weight pressing down on me. Not frustrated because I want him to get off but frustrated because I don’t want him to get off.
He pauses, his jaw clenching. Water drips down from his hair and falls onto my lip. I lick it off until the taste of his conditioner or whatever it is that he has in his hair slips down my throat. “You. Ran.” The words leave his mouth through pained lips, and it momentarily stops all of my thought processes.
“I didn’t run, Nate,” I answer softly. My chest feels heavy and my throat feels clogged.
“You should have, Tillie.”
“I, wait— what? Now you’re saying I should have run?”
His mouth comes to mine, but not enough to kiss me, only enough for his lips to lightly tease mine. He growls out so softly that I almost miss it “Yeah. To me.”
Pain flashes through me and threatens to take hold when his hand gently comes to my neck and his fingers wrap around my throat. “But you didn’t.” Abort, abort. His soft tone is now replaced with anger, venom dripping off every syllable. “Now you’ve caused a whole lot of shit that could have been avoided. So I’m going to ask you again, as me. As fucking Tillie and Nate.” he kisses me this time. His soft lips brushing over mine. I don’t open at first, afraid that letting his tongue slip inside of me will also grant him access to my soul. He pulls back slightly, and I have to hammer down my breathing. His eyes search mine. “Are you hiding something?”
I shake my head, the lie falling effortlessly from my mouth. “No.”
He growls, and I barely hear it over the pounding of the rain crashing against the leaves, then one of his knees presses between mine, spreading my leg wide.
I swallow. “Nate…”
His other leg joins, pressing my other wide until I’m open season for him.
“Nate…” I repeat myself, hoping it’ll snap him out of it.
“Shut up, Tillie. Me having my dick exactly where it wants to be right now is balancing out the fact that I want to kill you. I’m seeing fucking red right now, baby, and you have the flag hanging off of your sweet little ass.”
We’re doing this. Right here and right now.
His hand grazes up my outer thigh, hiking it up his hip. His head tilts back, his eyes searching mine. Water dropping off his long eyelashes. “Want me to fuck you right here in front of Brantley, maybe show him exactly how loud you can scream?”
I clench my teeth, narrowing my eyes. “Why stop there.” I grin, my eyes flicking to where Brantley is leaning up against a tree trunk, a toothpick flicking around in his mouth. “Why not let him join? I mean, I’ve heard that you’re not against sharing, in fact, you all share your girls around pretty—”
His hand flies to my throat and he clenches down until I struggle to take in any air. “I’m not Bishop.” This is the side of Nate that is hidden in the shadows of the cheesy smile he parades. His demons dance behind his mischievous eyes, not at the front like Bishop and Brantley. Boys like Nate are lethal, because you fall for their charm, their jokes, and their beautiful faces. By the time you find yourself lost in their darkness with their demons lurki
ng around you, it’s too late. They suck you in with charisma and spit you out with sin.
“Bishop didn’t allow it to happen, Nate, you just did it anyway.” I grate my teeth together. For the first time since I’ve been back, I’m annoyed at the hypocrisy of Nate. He’s been with Tatum for months, seeing each other—in fact—and he has feelings for Madison too. Regardless whether Madison is now with Bishop, Nate still has feelings for her and before I can stop myself, I’m raging with undiluted jealousy.
He’s watching me, but I suddenly don’t care. My eyes go back to Brantley. “Wanna fuck me, Brantley?”
Brantley doesn’t flinch, not the slightest bit of surprise flashes over his face. The toothpick slows down, his eyes falling down my body, stopping, and then coming back to meet mine. Brantley is everything your parents told you to run from—if you had parents, which I didn’t. He’s not just bad, he’s evil. You can see it in his eyes, how they look through people. He’s cold and irrecoverable, but I bet he’d be a good lay. Bonus points too because it’ll piss Nate off.
“Don’t call my bluff, Tillie. I’ll let him fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week just to show you how much I don’t give a fuck about you anymore.”
“Then do it,” I bite down in an attempt to simmer the rage that is threatening to spill out of me. “Maybe you can show him how you fucked Tate.”
Brantley must have pushed off the tree because suddenly he’s looking down at me, his boots near my face.
“You weren’t kidding. She’s fucked in the head. It’s hot.”
Nate leans down and bites my lip between his teeth. “You have no idea.”
My arm goes around Nate, and I grind into him. He stills, searches my eyes and then groans. “You really want to do this?”
My eyes flick up to Brantley and then come back to Nate. “In the time that you’ve had me pinned to this dirty ground, getting drenched in rain after running from you for fifteen seconds, and again, after you kidnapped me, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m mad at you, so yes, I do want him.”
Nate’s eyes narrow.
I continue. “And you.”
“I’m not touching you, Tillie.” Then in a flash, he’s up from the ground and the warmness of his body is instantly gone.
Wait. What? My face doesn’t hide the shock I’m feeling. He doesn’t want me.
Tatum.
“Right,” I snicker, getting up from the ground. Fuck Nate. Aside from everything else, fuck him for this the most.
My eyes go to Brantley, who steps forward, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me into his body. I lick my bottom lip, my eyes staying on his. Dark orbits peer back at me. I’ve always thought Brantley had dark brown eyes, but up close, it’s almost like there are also blue flecks through them. Or maybe I’m hallucinating. Or maybe it’s the moon playing tricks on me.
He backs me up until I crash against a tree trunk, then his hands come to the backs of my thighs.
“Will he fight you after this?” I whisper, my eyes going from between his lips to his eyes.
“It’s cute you still think he gives a fuck.”
“He doesn’t?” I already know that he doesn’t, but I guess there is still a very small part of my brain that needs to be reminded.
Brantley pins me with a glare so cold and distant, it almost has me running to hide behind another tree. The fact that he’s pressing against me is what is stopping me. “Use me to fuck with him, Tillie. He won’t and can’t do anything about it. The shots are yours to make, it’s part of the rules…” He doesn’t elaborate, and I shoot a quick look at Nate. He’s leaning against the same tree Brantley was at, grinning at me while running his index finger over his upper lip.
He thinks I won’t do it. He’s made a mistake. He’s gone into this thinking I’m like Madison and will go cold right before things kick off. He’s made a mistake because I’m not his property. Sex is something I can’t live without—I use it as a way to mask a lot of my issues. And I’m not Madison. I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon, I was raised by blood sodden knives, and girls like me, we learn to use them as weapons. Love shouldn’t be offered up as a gift to just anybody, it should be preserved and used as a weapon to protect our heart.
Keeping my eyes on Nate, I draw my tongue out and lick Brantley’s neck all the way up to his earlobe, and then whisper with enough lip movement for Nate to know what I’ve said.
“Fuck me.”
Brantley growls, pressing into me and grabs my hands, yanking them up above my head. He rolls his hips into me. Nate is lost in the back of my head.
Brantley’s hands come to the waist of my jeans and he pops open the button, yanking them down. His hand cups me and I moan, biting down on my bottom lip while tossing my head back. He glides my panties to the side—Nate’s phone lights up and starts ringing, breaking the moment.
Brantley lets go, turning back to face Nate like we weren’t just about to fuck in the name of revenge in the middle of a forest in the pouring rain.
The atmosphere and realization of the situation starts to seep into me more and more as the minutes pass.
I guess fear does weird things to different people. To me, I fight where some flight. If Nate wants a challenge, I’ll give him a war. I don’t owe him loyalty, and I’m not going to offer it up as a peace offering either.
Nate doesn’t look at me, his eyes go to Brantley. “We gotta bounce.”
Then they both start walking away.
“Pull your pants up, princess.”
We’re driving back to Nate and Madison’s when Nate hits the stereo on. He’s driving and I’m in the backseat, which means his eyes in the rearview mirror are in direct line to me, not that he has actually looked at me yet.
Lauv’s “There’s No Way” starts playing.
Something feels off about this whole night, like someone isn’t saying something. My teeth are chattering, and my lips have probably bruised to a deep purple. Nate and Brantley had long since ditched their shirts, now both of them are sitting in damp jeans and—I should stop.
My eyes flick to the rearview mirror and my heart stops in my chest when I catch Nate watching me. His eyes are flat, like the ocean, but just like the ocean, you know that beneath the surface there’s a whole lot going on that you don’t see. It’s unnerving. He looks back to the road and I sink back against the door, rubbing my arms.
For a brief moment, I can feel him pushing contrition into me. If I was a better girl, I would feel guilty. But I do regret getting worked up over it. I was caught up in proving I was different than Madison and angry at him for having feelings toward other girls that it weaved me into a web of fury. From the chattering teeth to the frost sprinkling over my brain, I’ve decided that you can’t change the way people feel about others. I can’t stop how he feels about Tate and Madison. I just have to remove myself from the equation.
Easier said than done.
Nate
“Burbons and Lacs” by Master P is playing in the background, sweat dripping off my body. I crank the treadmill up to level thirteen, picking up my stride. We got back twenty minutes ago, and I have roughly thirty minutes before we leave and get my damn daughter back, but the shit with Tillie and Brantley has left a fucking sour taste in my mouth, which is precisely why I’m trying to exude some pent-up energy in here. It was either the treadmill or a full-on fight between Brantley and me, but that would only prove the fact that Tillie still owns a small part of me. A very irrational, deranged and wild part, but a part, nonetheless.
And then there’s the rest…
I hit the treadmill off and grab my water bottle, bringing the tip to my mouth just as the glass sliding door slides open and Tatum walks through. The gym’s wall is made up of glass with a direct view of the pool, the pool house opposite and the main kitchen with living area connecting off it to the right.
“What do you want?” I wrap my lips around the water bottle without taking my eyes off her.
She stu
mbles in closer, raking her long blonde hair out of her face. Tate has the whole girl next door look going on, but she fucks like the mom. “I—I—” she slurs, and it’s then that the smell of alcohol fills the gym, mixing with my sweat.
“Are you drunk?” I catch her as she falls into me. Her head comes up, her eyes catching mine.
“Nate. Why don’t you love me?”
Oh Jesus. I’ve always treaded carefully around Tate, because Madison will have my balls if I don’t, and if she’s not sucking on them, I’d rather she stays the fuck away from them, but as of late, keeping Tate at arm’s length has become more difficult. She’s gone from a cool chick who was down with fucking on the go, to a clingy stage five.
“Because I don’t do love, I told you that…” My arm wraps around her back to stabilize her.
She searches my eyes as they glass over. Fuck. She better not fucking cry, I can already feel Madison’s wrath. “You’re a liar, Nate Riverside,” she whispers through a broken voice.
“How am I a liar?” I reply. Gentle, gentle if I want to protect my genitals…
“Because I’ve seen the way you look at Tillie.”
The door to the gym opens. “—okay fine. We can—” Tillie stops, her eyes going from me to Tate who’s slumped in my arms, and then back to me again. “Never mind.” She walks out, slamming the door so hard that she basically bounces her jealousy between the bolts and hinges holding it together.
I growl, clenching my teeth, and then look back down to Tate.
She shrugs. “Oops.”
I let her go and she falls to the ground.
“Tate, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t stop this bullshit, I’ll stop caring about Madison’s little feelings where you’re concerned and treat you like the rest of the bitches who cling to my dick by their teeth…” I step forward, internally trying to calm myself down while fighting the urge not to run after the most stubborn chick I’ve ever known. “I’ll fucking tear them out.”
Her face falls, and I watch as emotions pass through her features, ending on sadness. “Just leave it alone, Tate. Tillie is your friend, too, or are you that blinded by my nine-inch cock that you can’t see that anymore?”
