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Will, Kai, Damon, and Michael. The Four Horsemen. I just loved the nicknames the little wannabe gangsters gave themselves in high school, but someone should really tell them it wasn’t scary when you had to tell everyone how scary you were.
I sleep like a baby at night.” “You wake every two hours and cry?” I asked.
Lol
“Don’t you know that you can have anything you want?” His eyes searched mine. “I’ll hurt anyone for you.”
“Abuse can feel like love.” I blinked, the voice so close that my ears tingled. Slowly, I raised my eyes to look at the side of Damon Torrance’s face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie draped around his neck. The whole class fell silent, and I glanced at Will next to me, seeing his eyebrows pinched together as he looked at the back of his friend’s head. Mr. Townsend approached. “‘Abuse can feel like love . . .’” he repeated. “Why?” Damon remained so still it didn’t look like he was breathing. He looked at the teacher, unwavering. “Starving people will eat anything.”
The wealth and privilege my private high school matriculated was supposed to be a better education. I wasn’t seeing it. I still sucked at literature, and the only class I really enjoyed was independent study, because I could be alooooooone.
“I can’t wear a swimsuit because of the bruises!” I blurted out. He paused, the belt dangling from his hand, and I couldn’t even hear him breathe. Yeah. That was why I quit swimming. My face wasn’t the only thing we had to worry about people seeing. My back, my arms, my thighs . . . People weren’t stupid, Martin.
“They don’t make them,” I told her. “Because people who can afford Lamborghinis aren’t sitting around watching television.”
What was I doing? What if this wasn’t a joke? Just another second. Just one more second. I wanted to push it.
I would’ve regretted it, but I would’ve liked it, I think.
Nine years. Nine years, and I still wanted to fuck her.
Blood isn’t love, and love is the only thing that begets loyalty.
I watched one of my father’s business associates drug his own wife, lay her down on a bed, and back away as he let my father climb on top of her and fuck her to seal a deal.”
Disgusting
“Then I might be useless?” I finished for him. He laughed. But he didn’t argue, did he?
😞
That was my problem. As my dad said, “Until you can make a decision, we’ll make it for you.”
I watched the both of them, kind of enjoying how they hardly ever got along. Kai was ready for tomorrow. Damon never wanted to leave today.
Come on. It would be fun. Just us and a few others—invitation only. But as usual, my ideas were tabled.
Ay no 😢
I always loved that Jay-Z song. At least I was good for a few laughs.
He messed with me because he assumed I didn’t have a brain. They thought that because I liked being nice, that I didn’t know how to be mean. And believe me, I was capable.
Damon didn’t like to play alone. He needed me. I liked someone needing me.
“She’d never love you like you deserve, because she doesn’t respect you. You’re too shallow to her.”
I always liked her. I always looked for her.
She wouldn’t take anything from me. I was nothing, and she knew it, and in ten years, she’d be amazing, and I’d be nothing. She would never need me.
were bouncing off the walls. Fight for it? Jesus, he was so nervous about how the size of his cock measured up against everyone else here that he made them fight him—or beg—for whatever it was they wanted or needed.
“How long have you been here?” He met my gaze. “Two years, one month, fifteen days.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. The idea of Will being here that long hurt.
was stubborn to the point of being self-destructive.
I started to smile, too, but stopped, remembering myself.
Every little thing you could do made you feel stronger. I have this, so I don’t need you. I have that, so I don’t need you.
He pulled me in, and I opened my mouth to protest, but instead of a kiss, he just pulled me into his arms, pressed my head to his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around me so tight, it felt like he was the one about to break, not me.
I was a fighter once.
“It’s nice not starving, but I don’t want to live like he does. I don’t want power. I don’t give a shit about money. I’ve had it, and now I’d just rather have peace of mind.”
“I thought you were the trash!” she explained, jogging down the bleachers and rounding them to approach me. “I mean, you clear our trash at school, so I thought you’d help me out here. That’s what I meant. Sorry.”
🤬🤬🤬🤬
This time I just wanted to run. I didn’t want anyone to see me, like I was so embarrassing I wanted to erase myself from people’s memories and cease to exist. Just disappear.
When the bus stops, get in my fucking truck. I breathed out a bitter laugh. Aw, someone’s lost his temper. Why? I asked. The next thing I know, the bus stopped, he yanked the earbuds out of my ears, and I sucked in a breath as he leaned into my face. “Because you’re mine,” he growled in a whisper.
“I think that’s why I’ve always liked this time of day best. People hide in the dark. They quench their thirsts in the dark. They build their secrets in the dark. We’re more ourselves here than anywhere else. I get to be me”—he swallowed, staring at me—“when nightfall is coming.”
“Because I’m your man.”
He never gave up. Deep down, I loved that, because I was going to be an effort for anyone, and he wasn’t easily discouraged.
I mean, I did do her literature assignment for her. Did she have any idea how hard it was to try to sound like an angry teenage girl with zero sense of humor?
Rage boiled my blood, and I wanted to know what happened. Who hurt her? The sight of her crying was like a knife in my gut. But she wouldn’t talk to me. Not yet.
I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of finally having her in my arms.
I wanted inside her head first.
Not that I was an expert on him, but I was the temperamental one. He was the lover.
He stroked up and down, quicker and quicker, and then I spotted my blue panties. They were wrapped around his dick as he masturbated.
Psycho
I don’t scream, because . . . “Because screaming doesn’t help,” he murmured. “Does it?”
“To just pretend we’re in control of everything happening to us,” he told me.
If I could highlight the whole page…
Abuse can feel like love. I remembered his words from lit class. Starving people will eat anything.
“Will is like that,” he said, his voice softening, somber now. “Isn’t he?” Like a smile that doesn’t hurt. I nodded. “Easy, normal, peaceful . . .” he told me. “The only thing in my life untouched by anything ugly. Nothing has tainted him. He’s the one thing that’s still beautiful and thinks the world is beautiful and believes people are beautiful and all that shit.”
He won’t fit, because you’re committed to being miserable and you’ll just drag him down.”
“Has Will seen the bruises?” I tensed. “Be prepared for what’s going to happen when he does,” he warned. “And what can happen to him if he goes up against a cop.”
“They make the best cops. They know all the tricks.” He grinned. “True.” And what better place for a criminal to hide?
When the bruises faded, and I had nothing else to show for what would never fade in my head, I had this.
