No Prince

by Stevie J. Cole

Amongst the Jack Skellington images and the Edgar Allen Poe quotes were a few pictures of her and Monroe. And they were both actually smiling, and damn, Monroe wasn’t just hot when she smiled, she was downright beautiful.

“Leah doesn’t do much talking when my dick’s in her mouth.” His nostrils flared, a splotchy-red flooding his face. “Not Leah, dumbass. Monroe.” A shred of shock rippled through me, muscles going rigid. And Max must have seen it because his lips quirked.

“Oh, what? Hurt your feelings that your white-trash slut wants a little taste of money?” Anger rattled through me like a volcanic eruption, my fists begging to collide with the side of his face.

“The thing is, Hunt. She was completely worthless to me, just a way to get off. At least until I realized she was supposed to be yours. Now, every time you kiss her, you're sucking on my dick.” The word worthless played on a loop until my chest grew tight enough that I struggled for a decent breath.

“Three months,” I said. I inched the neck of her sweater down. “Try not to give in to me.” An ugly, green bruise peeked out from the collar of her shirt, and my stomach bottomed out. I yanked the fabric down farther, and she fought to tug it back up.

“Take your shirt off.” “No.” Her jaw tightened. “I’m not screwing you.” But we both knew that wasn’t why I wanted her shirt off. If I had to bet, there were more bruises on her. Leah’s text popped to mind, followed by Max’s smartass grin. I grabbed her sweater, so focused on her that I didn’t catch her hand rear back until I felt the sting on my cheek. Gritting my teeth, I fisted the material and pressed my nose to hers. “Take. It. Off.” Her arms came over her chest. A hateful glare danced in her eyes, but I could see something else underneath it she was fighting. My blood boiled, sizzled, and popped through my veins like an angry hit of heroin. “Take off the goddamn shirt. Before I tear it off of you.” “Just leave it, Zepp.” Her shoulders fell, like a little of the fight had left her.

Balling the material in my fist, I slowly lifted it past her navel to her ribs, revealing a smattering of ugly, fading bruises. For a moment, all I could see was my mother. All I could hear were the lies she told to cover up the abuse. As shit as our lives were, this was the part of it I refused to accept. “Who?” I said through gritted teeth. “The fucking Barrington quarterback?” She tugged the sweater from my hand, hiding the marks from my view. “No. Just let it go.” Her gaze met mine, hard and unreadable. “You know how this shit works. We’re just surviving, right?” An undercurrent of defeat hid within her sarcastic tone. And the shittiest thing about that statement—she was right.

“Your house is nice,” she said. “My house is shit.” Monroe lifted a finger, jabbing the air. “But it is a house.” She sounded like Jack Sparrow, Jesus Christ. “Yeah.”

Something was off with her. I took her chin, forcing her to look at me. The scabbed-over split on her bottom lip was impossible to ignore. That son of a bitch had smacked her for staying over at my house. Evidently, the quarterback had a death wish. One I’d be happy to grant. My temper spiked, the pressure building like flammable vapors in a tank. The tardy bell rang, followed by the bang of lockers and a flurry of students rushing to class. For once, I didn’t want a scene, so I dragged her into an alcove by the water fountain. “Your little piece of shit boyfriend...” I imagined him hitting her, calling her worthless, the same way those rich bastards had done to my mom, and my vision went out of focus. “I’m going to break his legs, and he can kiss his scholarship goodbye.” “It’s not Max.” Panic laced her voice. I leaned in close to Monroe’s ear. “I will kill him, Roe.” And with that, I shoved away, slamming my fist against the wall on my way around the corner.

“And just so you know, Roe,” he tossed the helmet to me, and I caught it against my stomach. “I won’t let anyone hit you, either.” There was no missing the threat in his voice. His display should have pissed me off, but the sad fact was, no one had ever cared enough about me to get so angry. No one in my life had ever been willing to fight for me. And the look in Zepp’s eyes when he thought Max was hurting me—he was willing to kill.

“You hitting on my girl, Harford?” I took a step toward him, shoulders back, fists clenched. Max Harford was a poster boy that needed a goddamn throat punch. I would gut him before he ever touched Monroe.

“You sure she’s your girl?” he said. She wasn’t, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing her like she was. I yanked her close, placing one certain hand on her ass before I claimed her mouth with mine. She stilled in my hold before her fingers bunched in my shirt. Her lips parted. If I ever got her in bed, she wouldn’t sit down for a week without feeling me. “Tell him you’re mine, Roe.” I bit at her lip before she shoved me back a step.

“Zepp!” Leah’s annoying high-pitched voice nearly split my ears. “Great.” Monroe rolled her eyes and pushed to her feet, swaying a little. “I need to find Jade.” The second Monroe had left, Leah crossed her arms over her chest and shot daggers at me. “You’d rather screw that trash than me? I can’t believe you, Zepp!” Shouldn’t have been hard for her to believe. Monroe was prettier. Smarter. Why wouldn’t I pick her over Leah’s shallow, fake ass? “I actually like her.” I shoved up from the couch. “You were just a hole to stick my dick in, which technically makes you the trash, Leah.”

These little bitches would call the cops. And we’d end up in jail. Which meant we needed to get the rest of the group and get the hell out of there. I spit a mouthful of blood to the floor. “Where’s my girl?”

“Don’t touch me,” she slurred. Then did a piss-poor job of sitting up. Adrenaline zapped through me like a livewire. There were no thoughts, just a roaring in my ears like a freight train. “You motherfucker!” I rounded the bed and busted Harford right in the temple, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. The urge to beat that bastard within an inch of his life ate away at me, but I needed to get Monroe out of there. “Zepp?” She frowned, her eyes half-closed. “Iwannago.” Her words ran together. I scooped her dead weight into my arms. Pissed that I had let her out of my sight. “We’re going,” I said, heading out of the room with my chest in a vice grip. Knowing there was no way she could have drunk enough to be that messed up.

Wolf was on his way down the steps, face bloodied, and Jade unconscious in his arms. He glanced back at me. “This is fucked up, man. Fucked up.”

“What happened last night?” My gaze swept over his shirt once more. The seconds ticked by before he finally exhaled a heavy breath. “You’re so damn lucky.” Anger radiated from each punctuated word. My pulse ticked up as he started to pace, panic breaking through my foggy mind. “Zepp! What happened?” I took in the bloodied shirt once more. “What did you do?” “I took care of the assholes that roofied you and your friend.” Roofied? I got drugged. Jade got drugged. Closing my eyes, I lowered myself to the bed as guilt plowed into me. “Is Jade okay?” I whispered. “I guess. Wolf took her home.”

Max deserved jail, Zepp didn’t. Rough fingers brushed my waist before he pulled me close, resting his chin on my head. I closed my eyes and basked in the warm safety of his embrace. “I’m gonna go to jail for something, Roe. Might as well be you.” And then he moved away, walking out of the room.

“Thank you,” I whispered. His fingers brushed my cheek before he rolled to his back, holding my hand captive. “I really thought he was okay.” I rested my forehead against his broad shoulder, and his hold on my hand tightened. “No, he’s fucking scum.”

“You worried you’re gonna get arrested?” “No.” Honestly, I didn’t care if I did. Monroe wouldn’t have stood a chance at getting that son-of-a-bitch arrested, and if my beating the shit out of him was all she got, well, it was better than nothing.

And I sat there, zoned out, half paying attention because all I could think about was Monroe.

“Come on. Like you said, she’s screwing around with Zepp Hunt. She has to be a whore.” It was like someone had doused my body in gasoline and threw a match. By the time they rounded the divider that kept people from seeing into the restroom, I could feel the veins in my forehead pulsing. “Who would drug a slut?” The girl froze, her mouth still open when both girls stepped into the hallway. The shorter of the two clutched at her friend, eyes wide and cheeks stark white. “I uh…” “Need to learn when to shut your fucking mouth!” They both jumped when I slammed my fist against the locker, leaving a dent in the metal before I turned and headed to my class.

“I thought you were better than the Barrington quarterback.” He pushed to his feet, his disgusted gaze holding mine. “What did you just say to her?” A shadow loomed over my desk, and when I glanced up, Bellamy was squaring up to Chase. “It’s fine, Bellamy,” I said. “Wow. Harford. Hunt. Even got Hunt’s little minions running around after you.” Bellamy smiled right before he nailed Chase in the gut. I might have felt bad for him if he hadn’t deserved it so much.

“I don’t talk to girls, Roe. What the hell am I supposed to ask you?” “How do you not talk to girls? There’s a different one crying in the bathroom over you each week.” I had never promised a single girl a thing, never given a hint that I cared. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have a reputation; why would a girl waste her time crying over me? “What the hell is wrong with girls?”

She sat right beside me, making a dramatic show of crossing one leg over the other, then adjusting the hem of her skirt. Of course she had worn a skirt. Girls wore crap like that to the movies for one reason and one reason only. And I had no interest in fingering her—even if she was halfway-decent looking. That was when I realized just how much Monroe had fucked me up—I wouldn’t even finger a half-way decent girl.

“Great. Well, then maybe you should go back to your ‘not date,’” Monroe said, flipping the menu over to the dinner selection. No one ever ordered dinner from Waffle Hut... “She looks like she misses you.” I brushed a piece of hair behind Monroe’s shoulder, focusing on her lips. “You’re hot when you’re angry, you know it?” “You’re full of shit, you know it?” “You should learn to take a compliment.” I snatched the menu out of her hands, and she took it right back.

“Jade’s ordering you a milkshake.” So she had felt guilty before she even came out to chase me down... I started after her, catching up and walking close enough that our arms touched. “Do I look like a guy who drinks milkshakes, Monroe?” “Who doesn’t drink milkshakes? You really are a psychopath.” “And you really are hot.”

I leaned forward to glare at Hendrix. “If your brother tries to screw Jade…” I whispered to Zepp, and he placed a finger to my forehead, pushing me back. “He’s not fucking your friend. Calm your tits.” “He’d stick his dick in a cinnamon roll if it got him off.”

“Not cheerleaders, babe. I just have a thing for pussy.” “Good to know.” I hated that I cared because it wasn’t like I didn’t know he was a whore. A slow smirk worked over his lips. “Jealous, Roe?” Our eyes locked. “You want me to be?” The pungent aroma of marijuana wafted in front of my face. Zepp folded his arms, resting them on his knees before he leaned into me. “I wouldn’t hate it if you were.”

I could almost see her thinking, most likely wondering what it was I wanted from her. And had she asked me that a week ago, there would have been an easy answer to that question. But now, it was way more complicated. Sure, I could kiss her—fist her hair and give her a quick fuck, but outside of that, I had nothing to offer a girl like Monroe. Feelings tried to creep up in my chest, and I quickly snuffed them out, turning away from her and starting toward the gravel road. “We’re gonna have to walk.”

“Why do you care?” Because I knew what could happen. I had watched it happen to my mom, and I didn’t want anything to happen to Monroe. “Doesn’t matter.” I pushed up from the curb, walking to the side of the road while I fought the emotions screaming to surface. Of course, she followed me. “You know you’re cryptic as fuck, right?” “And you’re stubborn as fuck.” “I didn’t ask you to get involved in my life.” I spun around, pissed that she wouldn’t tell me. Pissed about everything to do with our shitty lives in this shitty town. “But you sure as hell showed up in my drive. With a stolen car.” I stepped toward her, my voice rising. “That belonged to the guy I nearly killed!” “Oh my God. Yes, I stole the car. Let it go already.”

Her face glowed nuclear red. An actual growl rumbled through her clench teeth when she shoved at my chest. “I don’t need you!” That was an unexpected blow dart to the chest. I thought we both needed each other on some level. Or maybe I just wanted her to need me because there was a part of me already too entwined with Monroe to let her go. I gripped her jaw and drove her against the cracked glass of the phone booth. “Say it again.” She moved closer. Her heated breath washed over my face, bending my frustration into want, and my grip on her tightened. “I don’t need you,” she whispered. “You’re a goddamn liar!” I covered her mouth with an angry kiss, full of teeth and tongue. The feel of her lips and her tiny frame pressed against me was something I had desperately needed.

Her kiss, the drug that granted me the fix I had been craving. Her fingers raked through my hair, pulling me closer, and the kiss grew deeper, more brutal. I would have kissed that girl forever, and that was enough of a realization to terrify me, which was why I shoved away from her. To protect me. To protect her. “Fucking liar,” I said, turning back to the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.

Hendrix looked at Zepp like he was God and needed his approval. “Don’t look at him.” I clipped him around the head again. “Ow! Call your girl off.” Zepp said, “She’s not my girl” at the same time that I said, “I’m not his girl.” Hendrix barked out a laugh. “You two are so bumping uglies.” He did a little dance in his seat while singing: “Bow-chica-wow-wow.”

I had told him I didn’t need him, but some part of me already did. I was screwed. For once, my car decided to start, and I had never been so grateful for the shit box’s co-operation.

“I’m going to go. I didn't come over here to jump in your bed, Zepp. I just needed...” Him. I had needed him. “And I didn’t invite you over for a fuck.” He yanked me closer. “I just want you to stay. Al-fucking-right?” Clutching his shirt, I rested my forehead to his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. I wanted to stay, which was the exact reason I should have left. But instead, I whispered, “Okay.”

“The first time I noticed you was two summers ago when you were washing some shit car in your drive. I told the guys you were off-limits.” He nudged me. “You’re welcome. Hendrix would have tried to screw you.” That was almost sweet. For Zepp. “But you never even spoke to me.” “I told you, I never talked to girls I don’t sleep with.” “Should I be offended that you never tried that, either?” “Are you kidding me?” He rolled to his side, trailing a warm finger across my lips. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you?”

Monroe had left before I woke up. The girl was making a habit of sleeping in my bed, not fucking me, then bouncing the next morning. And now, I couldn’t get her out of my damned mind.

“Don’t ignore me. What the hell are you doing?” “My car broke down. I need to get back to Dayton.” “So you hitchhiked? Instead of calling me?” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

She was unbelievable. And stubborn. I stuck a hand into her pocket, and she jerked away, but not before I grabbed her phone. “This,” I shook it in her face. “Use the damn thing, Roe.” Then I shoved it against her chest before striding to the front of the car.

“She’s probably bored of rescuing me every time the shit box breaks.” There was a part of me that hated she had called Jade instead of me. God, I was so screwed. “Just call me from now on.” She chewed at her lip. “You realize this is a weekly thing...” “Don’t care.” I sank to the bed beside her. She fidgeted, knotting her fingers in her lap. “See if you’re still saying that at the end of our three months.” She snorted. I drew a circle over the knee of her jeans. “I think we’re a little past that. Don’t you?” Seconds passed, my chest growing tight.

“I think…” Her gaze dropping to my mouth as she hesitated. Fuck this. I gripped her hair, then pressed my lips against hers hard before I pulled back. “You think what?” “We aren’t friends,” she breathed. “No shit.” Then I pinned her to the mattress, settling between her thighs. Her hands trailed over my back, and I leaned down to kiss her again.

“And you’re coming with me.” I slipped a hand around her waist. “Of course.”

“Tell me the truth, am I gonna get arrested for this?” Like I would let her go to jail. “Tell me that’s not a serious question?”

“I should go home,” she said, pushing to her feet. Her car wasn’t here, and it was late. “Is Jade coming to get you?” “She didn’t answer. Her mom must have taken her phone again.” I watched her for a second, shifting on her feet and staring at the floor. “You could just stay.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever given a shit about.” I grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of me. Her hands went to my face. “Good.” And then she kissed me.

“So, you think I’m gonna kill you, but you’re still here, huh?” “Yeah, well, I trust you.” And that...made me feel like I was worth something to her. And I liked it and hated it at the same time.

Her hand brushed my shoulder before her arms wrapped around my waist, her chin pressing to my shoulder. And goddamn, that broke me. I buried my face in her neck. Monroe was making herself a lifeline, and I was fucked. “That’s shit, Zepp.” “It’s just life, Monroe.”

“Well, you’re lucky. That you have him and the guys.” Him, Hendrix, Wolf, Bellamy—they were a family of sorts. While I envied it, I was glad he had it. He shifted, stepping between my legs, and placing his hands on my knees. “And what about you?” “What about me?” Those dark eyes searched mine. There was a desperation in them, a panic I’d never seen before. “Do I have you?”

“Because I need this.” His fingers swept my cheek. Vulnerability equated to pain, and it felt like I was holding out my heart, ready to place it in Zepp’s palm where he could easily crush it. Did I trust him not to? It was a simple question, but the truth equated to me jumping off a cliff and hoping he’d catch me. “You have me,” I whispered.