by J. L. Beck
Such a beautiful fucking liar. She must think I’m stupid, an idiot without a fucking brain. I bet it’s all just a game to her. Letting me fuck her, getting under my skin. Maybe she thinks she can use her pussy to control me. Teeth grinding together, my jaw aching underneath the pressure. I stop myself from punching the dashboard.
I’ve got to unleash the pain… find an outlet, and soon before I explode.
“You know I loved your mother. We might be estranged now, but I did love her when we were married, she gave me you, after all. I respected her too much to ever cheat on her. I’m sorry son, I really am. If I knew she was going to do this kind of thing, I wouldn’t have allowed her to come.”
“It’s fine,” I grit out, my nostrils flaring.
“It’s not. I feel terrible.” He scrubs a hand down his face and all over again, I feel as if I’ve let my father down by falling into a hidden trap.
“It’s really okay, Dad. You did nothing wrong. Can we just go home? I have some plans with Clark and I don’t want to be late.” How I get all the words to come out without a growl, I don’t know. Maybe magic.
“I’ll talk to Laura. I’ll fix this,” my father murmurs, shifting the car into drive. The drive home is short, and he doesn’t say but a handful of words, thankfully. Fire rippling through my veins, I’m ready to burn everything the fuck down.
When we pull into the driveway, I bail from the car before it’s even parked. I look up at the house with murderous rage and take a step forward.
No, my subconscious says. If I walk into that house right now, as angry as I am, I’ll do something I know I’ll regret and when I hurt that lying bitch, the last thing I want to do is regret it. So instead I fish my keys out of my pocket and start for my car.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” my father asks as I stomp across the pavement, each step vibrating through my bones.
“I’m fucking fine. I’m going to Clark’s, so don’t wait up for me. I’ll be home when I get home,” I mutter and slide into the driver seat. I start the car and pull out of the driveway as slowly as I can. Once on the street, I floor it, the roar of the engine combined with my rage in my veins giving me an unnatural high.
Driving around aimlessly, I try to decide what the fuck I’m going to do. My need to make her hurt outweighs all my other thoughts.
Liar. Fucking liar. The mere thought of her makes me want to punch a fucking wall. I tighten my hold on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. How can I hurt her the same way she’s hurt me. She used her body, her fucking tears, and my emotions to twist and turn the knife. As if her betrayal from before wasn’t enough, she then drove the knife deeper by fucking lying some more. I suppose I could use her back. She wanted my dick, came on it, and sighed my name like a fucking prayer. I’ll just use her body against her, her fucking want for me. She might be a fucking liar but that tight little pussy squeezing around my cock is something you can’t fake.
Soft skin. Green eyes. Pink parted lips. It’s all I can see when I think about her.
“Fuck her,” I yell into the air beating my fist against the steering wheel.
By the grace of God, I end up at Clark’s house. The place looks like a fucking mansion, but it’s very similar to my house. Five bedrooms, twenty million bathrooms, and a pool that lets everyone know we have more money than we know what to do with.
Parking in the driveway, I kill the engine and escape the small space of my vehicle. I need a punching bag, a bottle of whiskey, and some pussy. I don’t knock when I enter the house and why should I, it’s not like he knocks when he comes to mine.
As soon as I enter the over the top foyer, I hear voices. They boom off the walls and into the empty house. They’re coming in the direction of Steve, Clark’s father’s, office. Not wanting to impose, I hang out around the staircase, my hands shoved into my pockets, waiting for Clark to make his appearance.
“I don’t understand why this girl has to stay with us? If she got a scholarship, why can’t she stay in the dorms? I’m an adult, not a babysitter, surely she can care for herself.”
Her? What the fuck is going on? I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping and I’m not, not really. Both of them are talking loud enough that the neighbors could hear if they wanted to.
“I told you, she has really bad anxiety and I promised her parents that I would watch out for her. Darrel is one of my friends from when I started my business, he is one of the reasons we have money now, you know the money you use to buy booze and all the other expensive shit you have? I’ve known him and his family for a long time and I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do. Now you’ll either do as I say, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
Consequences? What’s Steve going to do? Take his credit cards?
“Dad…” Clark growls, and I can practically see his face, the tendons in his neck tightening.
“Emerson is a sweet girl, and you will make her feel welcome here. Don’t disappoint me, son. Just do what I say.”
There’s a finality to Steve’s voice and I know whatever his father is setting him up to do he’ll do. Clark might not like the shit his father does, but he wants to be accepted by him, appreciated, seen as more than just a boy.
Seconds tick by and an irritated Clark exits his father’s office, his eyes downcast, frustration riddling what I can see of his face. Obviously neither of us are having a good fucking day. Listening in on Clark’s problems, I almost forgot about my own. About the con-artist at my house, about the fucking lies she spewed just this morning.
“What happened?” he asks as soon as he lifts his eyes and sees me standing against the staircase. Everything seems to fade away around me. All I see, all I feel is her, her lies wrapping around my throat, tightening, stealing my breath.
The muscles in my jaw flex. “You don’t even want to know, but since you’re best friends with the bitch, I’ll tell you. Long story short, we fucked, she used her pussy and some fake tears to spin a story about how my father cheated on my mom with her mother.”
Clark’s gaze widens. “Whoa, whoa. That’s…wow.” He pauses. “And you…fucked? How was it?” Suddenly he’s grinning. Of-fucking-course he worries about what it was like to fuck her instead of the task at hand.
Amazing. Sensational. Jaw-dropping. Nothing but a lie. That’s what it was like.
“Tight, warm, great until she opened her mouth.” I try and sound uninterested.
Clark shrugs. “That’s what it’s like every time. You’re fucking them, it’s great, you blow your load and then they open their mouth and suddenly it wasn’t worth it.”
“Getting off track here,” I growl. I’m an impatient fucker and my chest begs for something to dull the ache taking up residence inside it.
“Dude, sorry, you said something about fucking and it’s like I have a one-track mind sometimes.”
My features deadpan. “Look, it was either I came here and lost my fucking shit or went back to the house and confronted her. But, right now I don’t trust myself to be in the same house as her, so do you want to get piss drunk with me or do you have other plans for the day? Plans that involve the girl downstairs maybe?” I question with a thick brow raised, knowing that busting his balls will get him moving in the direction.
“Shut the fuck up.” He slugs me, but I don’t even feel it. Then he twists around and starts walking in the direction of his father’s whiskey cabinet. “Let’s go drink away your sorrows, fucker,” he slings over his shoulder with a knowing grin, and just like that, I’m already feeling better. Ava and her fucking lies being a distant memory as I swim in a pool of bad choices and enough alcohol to kill myself.
Chapter Fifteen
Ava
He never came home. Never showed his face back at the house. Forty-eight hours have passed and I still haven't heard from him. I’ve tried to call him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I’m starting to wonder if he’s regretting what we did and maybe that’s why he wasn’t coming home
. Part of me hopes he didn’t regret it but I’m dumb. I know that whatever is going on between us isn’t anything serious and I’ve come to terms with that fact. I’m probably going to be just another notch on his bedpost. Still, it doesn’t mean he couldn’t come home. This is his house after all. I’m merely an unwanted guest.
“Off to classes?” my mother asks as I enter the kitchen.
“Yup. I’ll be home later. I’m meeting up with a friend for dinner,” I say, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket before making myself a cup of coffee in the Keurig. My mother has been overly peachy lately, her and Henry didn’t even seem to notice a change in my attitude, nor did they seem to care that Vance hasn’t been home.
“Alright, sweetie. Whenever you get back, Henry said he wanted to talk to you about something. I’m not sure what it is, but if I know my husband it’s probably nothing bad.” She giggles like a love sick teenager.
“Uhh, sure.” I blanch, wondering what the hell he could possibly need to talk to me about. She doesn’t say anything else and walks out of the kitchen without even saying goodbye. I tell myself it’s because she’s busy or caught up in her thoughts, but I can’t keep making excuses for her. I thought after her confession at lunch the other day, her attitude toward me would change, but if she keeps acting like she doesn’t care, then it’s probably because she doesn’t.
Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I grab my coffee and head out of the house and off to campus. I try my best to make it through my classes without thinking about Vance, but it’s nearly impossible. When I spot Clark standing on the sidewalk, two girls talking to him, I bite at the chance to ask him if he knows where the hell Vance is. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care a lot more than I let on.
“Clark,” I call out to him as I close the distance between us.
His eyes lift to mine, indifference reflecting back at me. “Hey A, what’s up?” His tone is cool, casual, but it’s off. Something is up. The two girls he was talking to seconds ago, huff and stomp their heel-covered feet on the ground wanting his full attention. Who purposely wears heels to college?
“Oh, stop it. There is more than enough Clark to go around,” he teases, giving them his signature panting melting smile. One of the girls sighs, and I make a gagging sound.
Clark notices and snickers. “Don’t be like that, we both know you want to take a ride too.”
My brow furrowed in confusion at his comment. After the few times we hung out and talked, I was sure we were past this.
“Seriously? You know we aren’t like that. Why are you acting weird?”
Clark shrugs. “Nothing weird about me. Just being myself.” He plucks a hair off one of the girl’s shoulders and examines it just like he did the first time I met him.
“Clark,” I growl.
“Go find another dick to ride. I’m sure Vance’s is available. Or maybe not, last I heard I think he was balls deep inside of Sarah, but I can’t be sure.”
The menace in his voice tells me he knows more than he’s letting on, and I flinch, retreating a step back. His dig hurts, hitting me right where he had intended to. Even if Vance and I don’t want to admit it, there’s something going on between us, a connection, and hearing that Vance was with another chick after just being with me, Sarah of all people, stings. The two sorority chicks beside him start to giggle. Lifting my head, I hold my chin up high.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just going to ask you if you had seen Vance. Our parents are worried about him,” I lie.
Clark squints down at me, taking a step forward, and then another until he’s invading my space. He’s gorgeous even on his worst days, but right now he’s downright terrifying. He lifts a hand to my face, and it’s almost like he’s going to touch me, but he stops a fraction of an inch away from my bottom lip.
“You’ve got a little bullshit left on your lip from all the lies you’ve been spewing. Want me to get it for you?”
Ass-fucking-hole. Instantly I know this has everything to do with Vance. Every single thing.
I can’t stop my reaction. I’m angry. Hurt. Broken inside. In a fit of rage, I pull my hand back and slap him hard, right across his stupidly perfect face. A sting of pain lances across my palm at the contact. His jaw tightens and his hand falls away, balling up into a tight fist.
What happened? What did he tell Clark?
I’m missing pieces to a puzzle that seems to get larger and larger every single day. I stare in horror at the red handprint on his cheek.
Clark tilts his head to the side. “Nothing you say to me will ever make me forgive you for hurting him. We might have been friends for half a second, but you mean shit to me now.”
His words cut through me like a knife and I can’t stop myself from turning around and running back the way I came. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. Coming here. Thinking I could earn my mother’s love. Thinking that I would fit in. I know without even talking to Vance that he doesn’t believe me. His father probably told him that it was a lie. Cold tears fall from my eyes as I run down the sidewalk, nearly taking out a group of people along the way.
My chest heaves, up and down, up and down, but it doesn’t feel like I’m breathing. He doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t... I don’t know why it hurts so bad. Why it feels like my heart is breaking. He means nothing, he doesn’t even care about me. It was just sex. Sex, that’s all it was.
I’m going to be late for my next class, but I don’t care. Maybe I won’t go at all. Rounding the corner near the English building, I finally stop running and slow to a walk, my knees wobbly. As soon as I stop walking altogether, I lean against the wall. Pressing my back against the cold brick, I close my eyes and try to get my erratic breathing under control.
Happy thoughts…I need to think about a happier time, a time when things made sense, when the people around me loved and trusted me. It’s been so long since I was just happy, and everything changed on that night five years ago.
“I love you.” My mother’s breathless voice filters through the door. Pushing the door open, I expect to find my dad home from work. Instead, I find my mom…naked…with… a man, a man that isn’t my father…
Henry.
I’m frozen in place, every muscle paralyzed by shock and confusion.
“I love you, Henry…” My mother moans right before she turns her head and finds me standing there staring with my mouth gaping open.
Thinking about that night has my stomach doing somersaults. Why did I open that door? I should have just turned around and walked away. I try to push the memory away, but it has a hold on me that I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.
“You don’t know what you saw.” Henry, Vance’s father, raises his voice. My mother’s crying, big tears fall from her eyes. Why is she crying? Why is Henry telling me I don’t know what I saw. I know my mom shouldn’t have been doing what she was with Henry. My dad loves her, and she loves him, or at least I thought she did.
“Henry, stop. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t understand.” My mother pulls her robe tighter around her small frame, her body shaking.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. She doesn’t know what she saw. Do you Ava?” His dark gaze swings from my mother and back to me. It feels like he’s trying to bully me, threaten me into agreeing with him.
Which angers me.
Lifting my chin, I look him right in the eyes. “I’m telling my father, no matter what you say.”
The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me from the memory, but I’m not ready to open my eyes and face reality yet. Let whoever is walking by think what they want to think. With my eyes shut, I drown out the world around me, that is until two hands wrap around my upper arms, fingers digging into my skin. I’m pulled away from the wall.
My eyes fly open and my arms flail around wildly trying to fight off my assailant. Sucking in a sharp breath is all I can do. The scream becoming lodged in my throat beneath the shock. Not that I’d want to scream once I realize who
is holding onto me.
“Vance,” I gasp, catching a small glimpse of his face, having wished I didn’t.
He drags me along with him down the sidewalk and around the corner. He pulls open the door and tugs me inside the building. I try and dig my feet into the floor, but there’s no point. I’m half his size and don’t even stand a chance.
“Where are we going?” I whimper, his hold on my wrist tightening.
Ignoring my question, he says, “You think you can lie to me, use your fake fucking tears, and pussy to change my mind about you? Did you think I wouldn’t ask my father about it? I hope you liked fucking me because I’m about to use you like you used me.” The tone of his voice rains down on me like an angry thunderstorm.
We pass one room where a class is in session, voices carrying through the closed door as we pass it. He tugs me farther down the hall and when we get to the last room, all chatter has ceased and I realize we’re pretty far away from anyone.
I try to swallow my fear down. I don’t think he would hurt me, but I didn’t think Clark would say the things he did to me either. Vance drags me along a few more steps and then opens a door on the right side of the hall. He pulls me into the empty classroom, dread trickling into my belly. Then he releases me.
Turning his back to me, I can hear the sound of a lock being turned into place. My gaze swings around the room, looking for another exit. When he spins around to face me, his expression makes a shiver run down my spine. I’ve never seen him so angry, I’ve never seen anyone so angry.
“My dad told me everything,” he spits. “I can’t believe I let you wrap me around your finger. I can’t believe I listened to your sob story, or that I fucked you. That I felt even a sliver of sorrow for you.”
The darkness in his voice is startling and he takes a step toward me, which makes me instinctively take one back. I don’t know exactly what Henry told him, but I know for sure that it wasn't the truth.
“Vance, I swear…” I hold up my hands to fight him off, but he cuts me off, waving a hand in front of me.
