Sketches of Desire: Prequel to the Art Models Club Series (2 page)

Oh, bloody hell! Nobody touched her.

Amber shifted slightly to the side. Before Travis could make further contact, Amber brought up her right elbow and slammed it into the side of his head. Then she immediately kneed him in the groin.

Impossibly, even though he was grunting in pain, Travis gripped her shirt as he fell forward. The fabric of her worn pajamas ripped.

Falling with Travis, Amber used a head-butt to smash the side of her skull into Travis's face.

Moaning, Travis finally let go of her pajamas. But now he was pissed as hell.

"When I'm done with you, bitch," he gasped, "you're going to wish you were dead."

Amber knew she needed a little bit more time. She kicked Travis in the ribs and then jammed her fingers in his eyes.

"Shit!" Travis groaned, trying to reach for her while partially blinded.

Amber jumped over Travis. With Travis still roaring threats behind her, she grabbed her cell phone and purse from her bedroom and bolted out the door. Once safe in the car with the engine running and the doors locked, Amber called her best friend's dad. A former marine, he had assisted her in previous incidents.

A few minutes later, the front door to the trailer burst open. Amber's mother stumbled down the steps. Her bathrobe flapped open to reveal a halter top and skin-tight jeans.

"You bitch!" she screamed. "Why can't you stop slutting around and leave my boyfriends alone?"

"He attacked me!"

"Shut your mouth, you lying whore! Travis told me that you came out of the shower naked and rubbed against him. He tried to push you away and you went ape shit."

Amber closed her eyes, fatigue draining her. She fought tears. Nothing ever changed.

Fortunately, the headlights of an approaching vehicle sent her mother scuttling back into the trailer. Amber waited until the tall, husky man climbed down from the seat of his raised pickup truck. Then she lowered her car window.

The large, muscular man bent his head so that he could face her.

"Did he hurt you?" Frank asked, his voice a growl.

Amber shook her head wearily.

"No, I was able to defend myself."

"What's his name?" Frank asked, his voice still gruff.

"Travis," Amber replied.

"Is your mom there?"

"Yes. Travis convinced her that I came on to him," Amber said, trying to keep tears at bay.

"Stay in the car," Frank said. "Then you're coming home and spending at least the next few days with us."

Frank stood and stretched. He was wearing a tee shirt and his powerful, muscular arms were covered in tattoos. He looked like the kind of man who might beat the shit out of you without a second thought. In fact, if provoked, the former military man was known to pound sense into more than a few heads.

Mostly, though, Frank was a giant teddy bear. You just didn't want to piss the teddy bear off. Then he became a dangerous grizzly bear.

Frank pounded on the trailer door. Then he turned and held out a hand so that Amber could toss her keys to him. He quickly unlocked the door, tossed the keys back, and stepped inside.

This was the third time that Frank had come over in the middle of the night over the last couple of years. Amber never saw what he did or heard what he said to the men involved. Her mother always threatened to call the police.

But since most of the guys Mrs. Holloway brought home already had criminal records, that never happened. All Amber knew was that after Frank had a "chat" with the perpetrator, she never had to worry about being bothered by that particular scumbag again.

A few minutes later, the front door opened again, this time quietly. Travis hobbled down the steps, with not even a glance in Amber's direction. He was sobbing and his hands shook as he fumbled with the door to his car.

Frank exited the trailer only moments later and watched Travis with his massive arms crossed against his chest.

"You be sure to drive safe now," he called out cheerfully as Travis's car sped out of the driveway.

Amber listened to Travis's tires squealing on the pavement and grinned. She was grateful to have someone like Frank looking after her. There were times when she wondered what would have happened to her if she hadn't become friends with Hannah. Hannah's parents treated her like their own daughter.

Amber couldn't even remember her own father. Of course she hadn't laid eyes on him since she was a baby. Her mother hadn't even kept a photograph of the man. He was just another man in her long string of lovers. When he got sent to jail for selling drugs, Amber's mother moved on to the next man. Amber didn't even know if he was still serving time or if he had simply disappeared or even died.

"Looks like you can stay here after all," Frank said, putting his large hand gently on her shoulder. "Your mother admitted that she made a mistake. She now realizes what a piece of crap Travis was."

Amber felt her mouth gape open. She couldn't imagine her mother admitting something like that at all. But then again, Frank could be very persuasive. She wondered what he could have possibly said to scare her mother into submission. Frank was also known for his intolerance to violence against women.

"Of course, you know you're welcome to spend the night anyway," Frank added, his voice soft and fatherly.

"I've got all my school project stuff here," Amber said, smiling up at him. "But thanks. I know I can always count on you guys."

"Absolutely!" Frank said, his voice quivering. "If that creep had put one finger on you, I'm not sure what I would have done. You know how Lucy and I think of you as a second daughter."

"I know," Amber said, grinning to lighten the mood. "And you'll be pleased to know that I used several good moves tonight!"

"That's my girl!" Frank said.

Then he sighed. "I just wish you didn't have to use those moves at all."

Amber yawned.

"Sorry, but I really need to get to sleep," she said apologetically.

Frank immediately stood and turned.

"Then I'll be getting on home before Lucy gets worried. Remember to lock that door," he added as he climbed back into his pickup truck.

Amber waved and wearily climbed the steps. In spite of the adrenaline rush earlier, she was now simply bone tired. After locking the door, she crept through the living room. The television was turned off and, miraculously, the beer cans had disappeared. Her mother's room was quiet.

Amber shut the door to her bedroom door and locked the bolt. Then she kicked off her sneakers and crashed onto her bed. She pulled the covers over her, closed her eyes, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

2:00 A.M., Thornton Town Center, Monroe Rehabilitation Clinic

Hunter Webb looked up from the front desk. A girl stumbled through the front door and fled immediately to the restroom. Moving quickly, Hunter hurried to the lobby window. He was just in time to see tail lights disappearing from the driveway. A drop off. That wasn't a good sign.

The Monroe Rehabilitation Clinic was an adolescent center where teens could come to battle their addictions. However, it sometimes served as an impromptu place to dump overdose victims. Scared teens frequently dropped off their friends there when a night of dabbling in drugs turned ugly.

"Caleb, can you alert Dr. Kendall?" he asked his best friend who was helping man the phones that evening.

"Way ahead of you, dude," Caleb responded.

Hunter walked back to his seat and sank down. He hoped the girl was merely in the restroom puking up alcohol. But he had a sinking feeling that this was going to be one of those bad nights.

A few minutes later, the girl reappeared and wobbled toward the front desk.

"Hey, don't you guys go to Thornton High?"

In other circumstances, the girl standing in front of the desk might have appeared attractive. She had wavy blonde hair, tight fitting jeans that showed off a curvy ass, a thin waist, and ample breasts that strained at her thin sweater. As it was, however, she swayed from side to side, sweating profusely. Her eyes were glazed and dilated. 

Hunter bolted from his chair but Caleb got to her first, easing her onto the floor.

"Party a little too hard tonight, sweetie?" he asked, smiling down at her.

Even in her sickened state, the girl reacted to Caleb's charm and good looks. Maybe she was also impressed with his bulging biceps.

"Party would have been a lot nicer with you around," the girl said, trying to smile. Her voice was starting to slur.

On a normal day, if pressed, Hunter might have admitted to being the slightest bit jealous of his best friend's build. On the other hand, he had no desire to bench press every day like Caleb did. He would rather paint for hours on end. Of course, tonight was the wrong time to be comparing himself to his best friend. He shoved aside the inappropriate random thoughts and concentrated on the girl.

"Was it ice?" he asked in gentle voice, using one of the local teenage terms for crystal meth.

The girl's eyes darted around as though she was afraid to answer.

"It's okay to tell us," Hunter said, leaning low to stare directly into her eyes.

Caleb might have his muscles, but Hunter had been told that he had sexy eyes by more than a few girls. Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to take advantage of them.

The girl swung her head toward him and visibly softened as she stared at him.

"Crank? Maybe just a little," she said. "I'm not hooked or anything," she tried to insist, as though wanting his approval.

Her eyes twitched right just before her whole body began convulsing on the floor.

Hunter slid his hands under her head to keep it from banging against the hard floor. However, he was relieved when Dr. Kendall burst into the lobby seconds later.

"An ambulance is on the way," she said, kneeling and gently replacing Hunter's hands with her own.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Hunter asked, freaked out by the girls flailing arms and legs.

This was the second overdose Hunter had seen since he had started volunteering with Caleb the summer before. The second time was no less frightening than the first had been. Hopefully, this girl would live to fight off her drug addiction. Even with Dr. Kendall performing emergency CPR, the last guy had died of cardiac arrest before the paramedics could arrive.

"Right now, I just want to make sure she doesn't get a head injury while the seizure lasts," Dr. Kendall said. "Were you able to get any intake information before the seizure?"

"She admitted to taking crystal meth but that was all we had time to ask her," Caleb said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Did she have a purse with her?" Dr. Kendall asked.

"I'm not sure," Hunter said, trying to remember if the girl had been carrying one when she went into the restroom. "I can check the ladies' room."

"Good idea," Dr. Kendall said. "It would be nice to be able to contact her parents."

Hunter bolted for the restroom with Caleb hard on his heels. After knocking loudly, they burst into the room and started checking the stalls.

"Got it!" Caleb announced and hurriedly dug inside until he found a wallet.

Flipping it open, he found a driver's license just as a siren began wailing down the street. Hunter spotted the name and address ran to the front desk computer. Within a couple of minutes he had a phone number and was calling the girl's parents.

Fortunately, they had been trained to make these sorts of calls. He advised the frantic parents that the seizure had stopped, that a doctor was at their daughter's side, and that they should drive directly to the hospital. He also asked for the names of friends she had been with that night so that doctors could figure out how much of the drug she might have taken. By the end of the conversation, he was happy to relate that the paramedics had just arrived.

Nearly an hour later, at three o'clock in the morning, Dr. Kendall insisted that the boys go home.

"I promise that I'll let you know what happens," she said. "But I don't want you sticking around any longer."

Hunter looked at Caleb and shrugged his shoulders. There was no way that he was simply going straight home and going to bed. He felt wired and couldn't stop thinking about the way the girl's body had convulsed on the floor. She looked peaceful now, her blonde hair fanned around her head. She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen tops.

The two boys walked out to the parking lot and climbed into Hunter's recent birthday present, a silver, restored 1995 Porsche. Usually, just looking at the car put him in a good mood. Tonight however, an expensive car seemed unimportant in the scheme of things.

Hunter slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. He lowered the windows, needing to feel cold air on his face.

"Is the gym still open?" he asked, turning to Caleb.

"I was hoping you were going to suggest that," Caleb said. "I know I can't sleep right now."

Caleb was supposed to be staying at Hunter's house that evening so only one phone call to Hunter's parents needed to be made. As usual, they were understanding and even offered to come and pick the boys up later if needed. After arriving at the gym, Hunter realized he didn't have a change of clothes.