Текст книги "Fear me"

Автор книги: B. B. Reid

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m trying to find the nearest exit out of this cesspool.”

“Looks to me like you were sneaking upstairs.”

“No one would ever accuse you of having bad eyes. Excuse me.” I tried to go around but he linked his arm around my waist and leaned into me. I could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Have you been you taking care of our little secret? Wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of me too, would you?”

“It’s not my secret, Trevor. It’s yours. The only one afraid of making enemies right now is you.”

“Whether you like to admit it, Lake, you helped me bring Keiran down. You should be grateful. I even let you take the credit for all the work.” He grinned and slithered away like the snake he was. As much as I hated Trevor’s treachery, I think I was madder at myself. I should have seen it coming. I should have been more careful…

* * *

            “Enemy? I don't have enemies. I’m no one,” I stated, dumfounded.

What or who could Trevor and I possibly have in common? We didn't share the same social status and our circles – or rather my circle of one – were different.

He looked at me impatiently when I stared up at him in confusion. Gosh, was everyone on the basketball team freakishly tall? He dwarfed my five-eight easily. 

Trevor was blonde and good looking, but Tiffany and her friends were right – Keiran was better looking…with a hotter body. Trevor was bullish looking as his muscles strained and pulled against his skin while Keiran was lean with the right amount of muscle tone that made him look naturally powerful.

“Keiran Masters,” he stated simply.

I stepped back, anxiety kicking in. It was my usual reaction to hearing his name. I also didn’t understand what he was asking or what he wanted from me. I looked around thinking it was a setup and Keiran was waiting to jump out to screw with me. He hasn't gone a day without a prank, condescending look, or taunt, once in ten years. It was like my pain was an addiction and he needed his fix. Sometimes I think he went out of his way to find me so he could hurt me.

“What about him?” I swallowed deeply wanting to be anywhere but here.

“I know a way we can stop him so he’ll no longer be a problem for either of us,” he stated simply as if he was telling time.

“Why?”

He frowned down at me not expecting that answer I guessed. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why not,” he scoffed. “Keiran thinks he’s untouchable. He runs this school, but he doesn't run me. “Don’t you want the bullying to stop?”

“Yes.” It was true, I did but how far was I really willing to go for peace? 

“Good. I know the perfect way to teach him a lesson.”

“How?”

“We frame him.”

 

* * *

My run-in with Trevor and remembering the day he propositioned me, sobered me up a little but I still stumbled up the stairs one at a time.  When I reached the landing I felt the urge to pee so I stumbled further down the hall to the bathroom. Lucky for me, I found it on the first try and no one was in there. In fact the second floor seemed deserted altogether. I thought people usually occupied the bedroom for…stuff.

After using the bathroom, I made it to one of the bedrooms and pushed the door open. I dropped face down on soft blankets that smelled familiar and quickly passed out. If I weren’t so drunk I would have realized what I’d done. If I wasn’t so drunk I could have prevented what happened next.

The sound of the door opening and closing, followed by heavy footsteps across the carpeted floor jerked me out my sleep some time later. It was dark and I couldn’t make out much in my room but I could feel eyes watching me while I remained as still as possible and tried not to panic.

It was the scent of the bed sheets beneath me that gave the first clue. The scent was familiar and undoubtedly masculine and the sheets didn’t feel like mine. This isn’t my room.

“I know you’re awake.”

Keiran. Relief flooded my mind that it wasn’t some creep from the party and I released the breath I was holding…Oh, God. It was Keiran.

Panic returned full force and stronger than before when I remembered exactly where I was and exactly why I was there. I shot up from the bed and hovered by the headboard, pulling the blanket around me for protection.

His eyes flickered to the blanket and back up to meet my gaze as a mocking grin spread his lips. “What is that?”

I clutched the blankets—his blankets, tighter and closed my eyes, squeezing them tight. My knees were knocking together under the blanket and I prayed he couldn’t hear it.

“Is that supposed to protect you from me?” I could hear the sarcasm in his low voice coming from across the room but still I remained silent. “Should I come over there and make you talk?”

“How did you get in here? I locked the door like you said.” I thought I was safe from him with the door locked…at least for tonight.

“I have a key…and you didn’t lock the door.” I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. My heart pounded too fast and my breathing became short spurts of air. “Did you think you would be safe from me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel safe now?” His voice sounded closer and I realized he must have been standing next to me now so my eyes popped back open.

“No.”

“No, what?” he asked unnecessarily. I knew he wanted to taunt me. I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

“No, I don’t feel safe.”

“Yet you parked your ass in my bed anyway.”

“I didn’t mean to come in here,” I said through clenched teeth. He leaned over his nightstand and cut on the lamp, creating a dim glow.

“I don’t believe you,” he said in a low voice.

“Look, why don’t I just leave?” I offered even though the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t going to let me go anywhere.

“Uncover yourself,” he said, confirming my fears. I clutched the blanket tighter to my chest, fighting the urge to obey him and let the blankets go. When he looked at me with angry lust all I wanted to do was obey. The question being, “is it because of fear or desire?”

His deep breath, cut in to my inner turmoil, and was my only warning before his fist was closing around my right wrist. He pried my hand away from the blanket until it was pressed hard against the unyielding headboard.  The corner of the blanket that I held fell to my waist and I felt the heat of his breath and the smell of alcohol against my cheek when he leaned down. He’s drunk.

“I gave you the chance to make this easy. Playtime is over.” He yanked me down by my ankle until I was flat on my back and then he ripped away the rest of the blanket. It was the only thing separating us. He stood up straight and slowly lifted his shirt until it was discarded in a heap on the floor. “I want that dress off.”

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. The force of his commands shook me to my core but somehow I managed to plead with him. He was the only one who held enough control to not let this happen. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to. “Not like this, please.”

“Why not?” he asked in bored tone.

“Because you’re drunk,” I cried. My voice sounded desperate even to my own ears.

“Are you saying no?”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Then I don’t care. I’m done waiting.” He reached for me so I scooted away from his reach and he laughed. “You’re a walking contradiction, Monroe. Your eyes have been screaming ‘fuck me’ long before I told you I would but yet you resist temptation.”

“Is that what you call it? Temptation? It’s blackmail!”

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Which only means you have a choice, and you chose my dick because you want it.”

“That’s not true. You just confuse me,” I said as I continued to scoot away.

“No more than you confuse me. The only difference is that I’m angry enough to make you pay for it.” The look in his eyes held me captive as I watched him. I guess that’s why I didn’t notice when he made it to the other side of the bed just as I did. He didn’t touch me when he stopped beside me. He just continued to stare down at me curiously.

“Please, you’re scaring me.”

“You should be scared because when I’m done with you there will be nothing left for you to hold on to. I’ll make sure of that. Now take off…the fucking…dress.”

“Isn’t there another way?” I asked even as the last of resistance slipped away.

“No, Monroe, there isn’t.”

I took a deep breath, nodded, and then slipped the straps over my shoulders. As I did, I wondered if he would be gentle or care that it was my first time. As I rose from the bed in front of him to remove my dress, my eyes involuntarily wandered to his chest and for the first time I noticed what looked like a scar just under his heart.  It was faint which meant it must have been really old. I wanted to ask him about it but the voice in my head called common sense told me it was a bad idea.

I quickly looked down before he could notice where my attention was held. His boots were touching the tips of my toes and I felt small compared to his large body.

He never even kissed me. The thought was unexpected and I wondered if I wanted him to kiss me. I peeked up at his lips that looked kissable and perfect. I was so caught in a fantasy involving his lips and mine that I didn’t notice when my dress slipped from my body and pooled around my feet.

His eyes perused my body and just like downstairs there was no emotion or reaction. He barely acknowledged my near naked state before he said, “On your knees.”

“Don’t you want me to finish?” The blush that stole over my cheeks hid my surprise though I didn’t know what I was more surprised over – my question or the fact that he didn’t order me to continue. Then again Keiran was never one to be considered predictable and I already figured out that my brain was pretty much useless when I’m around him.

“Did I tell you to?” The arrogance in his voice and his distant demeanor was increasing my nervousness.

“Th—this is my first time.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you kiss me?” Shit. My blush was blushing.

“Who said this is your first time?”

“Well you said –

“I said I wanted you on your knees.”

“Yes, but –”

“So why aren’t you on your knees?”

“Maybe because you didn’t ask me nicely,” I snapped. I had to admit, his mind games were getting to me.

“Nice or not, the result will be the same.” At the look in his eyes, I finally sunk to the floor and felt the plush carpet under my knees.

“I’m on my knees now so what do you want?”

“I want you to finish what you started.”

I knew what he meant without having to be told. My eyes immediately lowered and I eyed the thick leather belt with silver skull heads wrapped around his dark jeans. The way his jeans fits him was meant to tease. They always seemed to hang just around his hips bringing attention to the deep v carving into his waistline and disappearing into his jeans. His erection was straining against the rough material, waiting for me to let it out.

I can do this…should I do this?

“You're thinking too much...” Keiran barked interrupting my private thoughts, “...and I don't trust your thoughts.”

I don't know what came over me when I asked, “Why?” I turned to look directly into his eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” I mocked him, grabbing on to what little fight I had inside. He was going to destroy me anyway. Why not give him a reason?

His stare, however, was overpowering in its intensity. His gaze pierced through my newfound resolve until I lowered my eyes in submission. I was soon kicking my own ass, realizing he just dominated me with a look. I also noticed that his gaze was clear and the realization that came to me had my heart pounding painfully against my chest.

He isn’t drunk. He knows exactly what he is doing.

“The seconds are ticking away in my head and if I get to one, you will regret it,” he said menacingly. Without being told I quickly began undressing him. I reached for the black strap and unbuckled it but in my haste I mistakenly slipped his belt completely off where it nestled in my hands. I looked up at him for reassurance but only found that his control was already gone.

The belt was snatched out of my hands and I was flipped, face down on the floor. The thick carpet muffled any sounds I made. I could see in my peripheral, his booted feet planted on either side of me. My hands were then placed behind me and then something was being wrapped around my wrists.

The belt.

The material of the makeshift restraint was tight and a cry of fear escaped my lips before I could stop it but I didn’t fight back. I didn’t tell him no. He would stop, if I told him no, but he would go after my aunt. He would kill her because he was cruel and knew she was all I had left. I saw my parents again and I cried for them. If they hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t be here and I hated them for it.

I also hated Keiran’s demons that constantly chased him. He lifted me by my hands until I was on my knees again in front of him.  “I’m sorry,” I cried, the words catching in my throat. I didn’t realize that he had been walking out the door until I’d already blurted the words out. He was leaving?

“For what?” He stopped and asked a second later. I could hear the suspicion in his voice.

“That someone hurt you and made you this way.” I instantly regretted the words once they were out but it was too late. His heavy footsteps were loud and hard against the floor as he walked back over to me. I knew he was angry before he even spoke but I didn’t know how much until he spoke.

“That’s where you got it wrong,” he gritted and slowly unzipped his jeans. He gripped my hair in his hands and tilted my head back, slightly so he could look into my eyes. “I was the one doing the hurting.”

My lips opened on their own accord, enveloping his hard cock and I found myself once again gagging around him as he grabbed the back of my head and thrust slowly in and out of my mouth. His reluctant groan was animalistic as he gritted his teeth and tilted his head back. He seemed to catch himself quickly and lifted his head to peer down at me. I struggled to take all of him when the tip of him breached my throat.

“Don’t pretend for a fucking second that you know anything about me.” Thrust. “Or what I’ve done.” Thrust. “Or who I am.” Thrust. “The only thing you need to know is that I will destroy you.”

When he finally drew back, I sucked in the much-needed air but as soon as I managed to catch my breath, my lips greedily latched onto his cock again. I watched his eyes widen slightly in surprise before he narrowed them.

I kept my eyes on his and tried to take as much of him as I could and then I pulled back until my lips were wrapped around only the head. I stared at the incredibly long length of his cock in amazement while I suckled on the tip and ran my tongue up and down his length. I had no clue what I was doing; I just knew I had to calm him somehow. His hand was still in my hair but his grip wasn’t as tight as few seconds ago.

For a moment, I thought I had succeeded. For a moment, I thought I had won. It was the growl that erupted from his throat should have warned me but I was too caught in my own pleasure. I liked forcing a reaction from him, just as he’d done to me for ten years. It made me feel like I was the one in control. But that control, as imaginary as it was, was short-lived.

“If you’re going to suck me then suck me. Don’t tease my dick, Monroe. You won’t like the consequences.”

It was amazing how he could make me feel shame from an act that he initiated. I started to remove my mouth from his cock and save some of my dignity while I still could but he gripped the back of my head tight and pressed forward. I felt the tip of his cock touch the back of my throat once more so I opened up more for him but when he started to slide down my throat, I gagged and sputtered.

“I want you to remember this moment,” he said in a controlled tone while I struggled against him for air. “How I am now, how you are now.” He took his cock out of my mouth and shoved me back. “I want you to remember that there is nothing good about me and there never will be.”

I believed him. God help me, I believed him.

“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?” he snickered. “You thought you were pleasing me? Controlling me even?”

He was playing me the whole time. “Why are you doing this?” I could hear the bitterness in my own voice. He ignored my question and fixed his jeans. I swallowed nervously and tasted the remnants of him and felt a moment of disgust, keeping my gaze rooted to the floor. “You wanted this so why are you so angry?” I asked again.

“I’m not angry.  That would mean I cared.” He moved for the door, intending to leave me tied apparently, but he turned back and asked, “Did you really think you could manipulate me?”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s not why you’re angry.” My gaze lifted to meet his dead-on. “You’re angry because it was working and I did please you.”

“Well then that would be stupid of you.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“Because then I would be forced to keep you. And you don’t want that,” he replied, ominously. A loud crash and the sound of running footsteps and screams filtered through the door and then a guy’s voice could be heard on the other side.

“Keiran man, get out here. Dash and Keenan are fighting some guys who crashed the party. Shit is trashed.”

He stalked toward the door, shirtless and left as quietly as he came. To someone who didn’t recognize the signs he seemed calm but I glimpsed the rage simmering in his eyes. I was left on the floor still bound by his belt and helpless. Moments later the loud noise and screaming ended and the house grew eerily quiet and then all at once I could hear the sound of running footsteps again followed by screeching tires and cars departing.

I pushed myself up until I was standing. My legs were sleep from being stuck in one position. I licked my lips and immediately recognized the taste of him lingering on my lips and curious, I licked them again, before I realized what I was doing.

Some sick part of me liked the taste of him despite being manipulated. I tried to tell myself that I had no choice, that I didn’t enjoy being violated by him. But I didn’t fight him either. If I fought Keiran, I would lose one way or the other.

Chapter Ten

I thought about my journal. I needed my journal. It was where I kept all my pain and told all my secrets and it spoke of only two things—my parents and him.

I haven’t thought about that journal since last year when he went away and I no longer had anything to write about. The journal was old and something I kept to deal with the pain of losing my parents. I started it a year after they disappeared and Keiran’s bullying got worse.

The first entry about him was in the fourth grade after he got some girls to stick used gum in my hair and had everyone call me spit head at lunch. I locked myself inside the bathroom and immediately pulled out my journal to write. It was mistake but it soon became my salvation and way of coping.

Starting out, whenever a memory of my parents surfaced I would write that memory down and how I felt about them. It was something my aunt suggested I do when she couldn’t get me to talk about it. She said she would rather I tell a piece a paper than no one at all. I think that was the writer in her speaking.

Keiran had given me a new pain to focus on. So when I begin to write only about Keiran, the journal became a vessel and now holds every thought and emotion that I ever had for Keiran inside of it. It even expressed the confusion I often would feel from being attracted to him as we got older. I finally admitted to my journal of having a crush on him a couple of days before I turned sixteen.

The school year had just begun and I saw him for the first time in three months. He’d gone to some basketball camp that was sponsored by the NBA and NCAA for the best talent. The look he gave me as he swaggered down the hallway toward me was hot. I remember his grey eyes trailing slowly up and down my body as we grew closer from opposite ends of the hallway. Our gazes were locked the entire time and I couldn’t help but to admire the light stubble he’d grown. It made him look older and sexier, if that was even possible and just as I was passing by him, thinking he would spare me his normal dose of public humiliation, he knocked my books out of my hand and sent them flying along with the few sheets of paper I had laying on top. I didn’t react. I never did. I picked up my books and continued to my first class with my head held high and the anguish my heart felt buried in secret.

Keiran’s torments came more frequently and grew crueler that year. For whatever reason he seemed to despise me even more. I remember always being confused about the strange looks he would give me followed by a vicious, verbal attack. But we were on an entirely different playing field now. Keiran was menacing enough when unprovoked but now he actually has a reason to hate me.

I tried to look at it from his point of view. He lost a year of his life to the system. It was a year he would never get back, while the drug conviction threatened his future because nothing stayed completely buried. Add in the humiliation of a public arrest it would be enough to piss off a nun. I understood why he wanted revenge, but threatening the life of my aunt was unforgivable. She was innocent in all this.

When his car stopped, it snapped me out of my thoughts and I realized that we were in my driveway. He didn’t shut off the engine and I was relieved. I couldn’t handle anymore of Keiran today. After his party came to a screeching, violent halt, he had come back upstairs and untied me. He then ordered me to “get the fuck out” and I would have went running for the door but I had to remind him that he drove me here and I couldn’t call Willow because he sabotaged our friendship. So here we were.

I touched the door handle to get out but stopped and stared out the windshield instead. I took a deep breath and made a decision.

“It was wrong,” I began. He turned to face me, with his eyebrows raised.  “You had a good thing going. You just made captain of the basketball team – rumor was that scouts were already looking at you pretty heavy. It was the end of junior year, and you were supposed to graduate last year. You should be in college now surrounded by an endless supply of hot girls. You wanted a future. You hoped for a future.”

I looked at him finally – he looked like he was contemplating something as he rubbed his bottom lip with his finger. I couldn’t help but to track the motion, watching his finger sweep across. His lips were plump and kissable and I was suddenly jealous of his finger.

“You were innocent. I know that but not because you believe I framed you, but because if you had done it, then this –,” I gestured between the two of us, “wouldn't be happening. You would have accepted the consequences even if someone did tip the police.”

I felt the weight of his stare as silence filled the air in the close confines of the car. It became almost unbearable after a few minutes of waiting for him to say something so I gave up and reached for the door handle again, having said my piece.

“What makes you so sure?”

I turned back to him confused. “Sure about what?” Was he trying to say he was guilty?

“That we wouldn't have happened.”

His question immediately pissed me off. I knew it was just another tactic to get into my head. “Are you suggesting otherwise, because the past ten years says different.”

            “You aren't as blind as you pretend to be, Monroe so cut the bullshit. You come apart when I touch you without hesitation…naturally…as if the past ten years says different.” He emphasized the last part and I flushed thinking about the classroom and the memory of his mouth devouring me.

“Exactly. Naturally. It’s pure biology.”

“You mean biology made you like me fucking your mouth like that?”

“No, but desire has nothing to do with hate.”

“Doesn't it? You forget – I was there that day in the hallway when that limp dick kissed you.” I remembered that day. Keiran had effectively ruined my first kiss and chance at a love interest.

“What does that have to do with anything? How do you know I didn't kiss him?”

“You didn't kiss him back.”

I didn’t say anything because he was right. I hated that. I didn’t kiss Peter back. I consented to it but lost the desire to once his lips were on mine. I even remember counting the seconds until it was over and even feeling grateful that Keiran had found us and ran him off.

“So?”

“So you would have felt desire for him. Desire isn't based on biology and I think you know that. It starts here,” he tapped my temple before trailing his fingers down my body slowly, “before it reaches your sweet spot.” I was sure I was flaming red by now.

“I don’t hate you,” I whispered rubbing my sore, red wrists. Bruising was already forming and I wondered how I could hide it from my aunt.

“Not even after what I did to you tonight?”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“But you are afraid of me.”

“And so you believe my fear sparked sexual desire for you?”

“Something tells me you came to this conclusion already.” I shook my head in denial not wanting to admit how right he was. “Monroe, you don’t desire me because you fear me. You desired me long before I gave you a reason to be afraid.”

I shook my head again abruptly. "Impossible –”

He blew out a breath in frustration. “How? You've been eye fucking me since puberty. I've noticed you Monroe – beyond the taunts and the rumors I spread, I've noticed you. You wanted me. You still do.”

“It's impossible because I've been afraid of you since I was seven years old.”

* * *

It was just after midnight when I finally walked inside my house. I thought about the last thing I said to him before he said good night, abruptly ending our talk. I must say that I didn't expect his reaction. He all but kicked me out of his car and sped off before I even reached the door.

So much for chaste kisses on the doorstep. Not that I wanted to kiss him or anything.

After a hot shower, I was turning down my blankets for bed, cursing Keiran the whole time, when I heard a noise. It sounded muffled and far away so I quietly moved to the bedroom door and peeked around the frame.

My door was the closest to the stairs so I saw a light that I didn’t remember turning on. I creeped down the stairs slowly, praying there wasn't a creepy burglar in the house. My aunt was too much of a pacifist to keep a gun in the house, not that I knew how to use one. How hard could it be, though? You just point, shoot, and hope the wrong end isn’t facing you.

I was halfway down and finally convinced myself it was nothing, when the light suddenly turned off. The only thing that could be heard after that was the wild beating of my heart as it dropped to the pit of my stomach. Calm down, Lake. The power must have gone out.

I looked back up the stairs to see light still shining from my bedroom and my body went cold. I’m talking Arctic cold, people. I knew I needed to call for help but was too afraid to move, fearing that I would alert whoever was in the house by some small noise.

I knew Aunt Carissa wouldn't be back this soon without telling me first, so this had to be a break-in. I tried to recall if I locked the door but I couldn’t remember a single thing past that light turning off. Finally it came. The sound that confirmed someone was in the house with me. It sounded like footsteps, hard and heavy. There were only two and then it stopped.

The foyer? The Kitchen?

They were the only two places in the house besides the bathroom that would produce the sound of footsteps that loud. I grabbed some balls by the skin and slowly began backing up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. I almost made it too but the sudden sound of my cell phone ringing from my open bedroom door broke the silence. Keiran had given it back to me when he kicked me out of his car.

Shit.

I broke out into a run, not caring about keeping silent any longer. I made it to my bedroom and locked the door just as the ringing stopped. I ran over to my nightstand and snatched my cellphone up. It was a missed call from Willow. I hit the phone icon to dial the

police and a second later there was a thump on my bedroom door. Followed by a series of thumps that became more forceful. Someone was trying to break down the door.

The operator finally came over the line. "Please, somebody is in my house," I cried. Suddenly the thumping stop and I could hear the sound of footsteps again. I gave the operator my address and sunk to the floor in relief when the door rattled and I felt my heart stop altogether.

"Go away, I called the police!"

“You did what? Open the door!” I heard a familiar angry voice boom from the other side of the door. I was too terrified to move so I sat there on my knees, clutching my phone and wishing the police would hurry.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked in a gut-wrenching sob.

“Doing what? Open the door!” He continued pounding on the door until a crack split the wood. I jumped and began screaming at the top of my lungs.

“Leave me alone, please!” Keiran had almost succeeded breaking the door down when I heard additional footsteps running up the stairs.

“Police!” I heard the voices on the other side of the door instructing Keiran to place his hands up.

“Ma'am, it's Officer Reynolds and my partner, Officer Burkes.  You can open the door now. We have him restrained.”

I sat there numb for a minute before I finally stood to my feet and opened the door.  An officer was standing on the other side. He looked familiar somehow but I couldn't place him. The other officer was leading away a handcuffed Keiran, who was silent as he was taken downstairs.

“Are you okay, did he hurt you?” Officer Reynolds asked.

I found it hard to speak so I shook my head. “We need you to come down to make a statement. Do you have someone you can call?”

“My aunt is out of town but I can call my best friend. Can it wait till morning, Officer? I can't do this now.”

He hesitated before asking, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” He nodded before leaving. I sat back on the floor once they were gone and cried until I had nothing left.