Give Me Peace

by M.K. Harper

I tend to bite my tongue, choosing silence over the possibility of ruffling any feathers. Mom says I’m a peacekeeper, constantly downplaying my own feelings in place of everyone else’s.

I’ve never been outspoken. Just the thought of causing a scene or being an inconvenience makes me anxious. I was taught ‘you catch more flies with honey’ and I’ve made it a point to apply that to my everyday life. I’m nice to everyone, even when they aren’t nice to me. The whole reason I’d been walking home that day instead of riding the bus was because I had, once again, tried to be friendly with the boy who’d bullied me since grade school. And look where it got me.

My life was normal. Not once had I been put into a situation where I felt that my safety was threatened, especially by someone in a position of power. The obliteration of that innocence hurt like hell.

and even a promise to finally stand up to my playground nemesis, Havok McKade, whose parents must have had a sixth sense when naming him.

and I knew there and then, no matter what it takes, I’ll make her forgive me. I’ll fix the pieces I broke, because there won’t be a day between now and the one I die that’s spent without her. Her and I, we’re tethered for life, whether she realizes it or not.

I need her. It’s irrational and obsessive, but it’s not something I have any say in. There’s this connection between us and it’s uncontrollable.

that overgrown fucker is a garbage disposal.

I scrunch my nose. My default setting of wanting to put the responsibility on someone else’s shoulders urges me to do just that.

“Good God, dude. That might be your douchiest getup to-date. Quick, take a pic, Ro. This one needs to be framed.”

I take a deep breath and try to put some space between us, but he grabs the back of my head and pulls me in so he can speak without being overheard.

“I won’t play this push and pull game like the others, Tink. And I certainly don’t make a habit of depriving myself. You aren’t fragile, and I refuse to treat you that way. You need to be sure of what you want because I’m not a fan of teasing. Doling it out maybe, but receiving? Not so much.” He kisses my forehead and saunters off, like he didn’t just short-circuit my brain.

“Sounds awful,” I retort. “Guess you better be a good boy, then.” That earns me an indignant scoff. “I’ll show you fucking good,” Havok grumbles.

“The only bruises I’ll ever be okay with are the ones you’ll get from kneeling at my feet while I feed you my cock.”

wearing cut-off blue jeans that are far too short for someone with a nut-sack,

“You ready, baby girl?” My words are gritty, voice slightly breathless as I wait on pins and fucking needles for her to give me the go ahead. Saylor licks her lips and nods, her throat flexing as she swallows nervously. As she should be.

I finally found my happy ending, and with any luck, Liam and Jeremiah have front row seats for the encore performance. I win, assholes.