Vicious (4 page)

My head darted up. “I’m
not
.” Although for some reason my eyes were stinging a little with tears that wanted to force themselves out and make me weak. “I’m just locked out now.”

Damon took off his t-shirt and started on his jeans.
“Oh, yeah. You live with Ewan and that religious nutter. She won’t let you back in now.” Now in his boxers, he moved to the bed which I still sat on and slid under the sheets. “So, what are you going to do? Stay here or leave?” I hated the look on his face, not as much as I hated Ewan, but this guy was every self-righteous motherfucker who thought he could treat women like shit. I stared at him. My face was as impassive as stone; there were no more pathetic tears anywhere in sight.

I reached out and touched his bare che
st; curving my hand so my nails were like claws and lightly drew them down to graze his skin. He didn’t flinch, and that pissed me off. I wanted to cause him pain. I forced my mouth into a smile and met his predator eyes. “I’ll stay.”

He gave a nod. That was it. There was no indication whether he was happy or upset about my presence. He was fucking infuriating. I got to my feet and walked over
to the light switch by the door. As I flicked it off, he promptly switched on the lamp beside his bed.

“I like the lights off,” I told him sweetly.

“I like them on.”

Prick.

I walked back to the bed and turned my back to him as I started to take off my clothes. I didn’t like men seeing my body. They could touch it all they wanted. I just didn’t want them to see it. When David would sneak into my room in the dark of night, and I would circle my palm around his penis as he thrust against me, trying to be quiet, it was easier in the dark to pretend that I was someone else, that he was someone else.

On
ce my clothes sat in a pool at my feet, I held an arm over my breasts and one down between my legs as I got in beside him.

He stared at me for a moment. “Are you a fucking virgin, or something?”

“No.”

“’Cos your acting like it.”

“I’m not. Can we just get this over with without the commentary?”

He didn’t look impressed,
but then he shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

We kissed. I didn’t really like kissing either but sometimes it was a necessary evil. I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be acting like someone he wanted, instead of being a complete bitch. His hand moved between my legs, but instead of prodding for entry like I was used to, those fingers started to stroke gently there.

I put a hand up to his chest and pushed at him, breaking the kiss. “What are you doing?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to touch me there. Just put it in.” I didn’t mean to snap or sound as hostile as I did. What I had meant to say was: “don’t worry about my pleasure.” Because sex was not supposed to be pleasurable; it was supposed to be a means to an end

“Shut up.” He went back to kissing me
, and that hand went back to stroking. I hated to admit it, but it was feeling good. I fought against it though. It was too intimate, too private to have him touching me for so long down there. I could always bring myself to orgasm effortlessly by touching myself, but for him to do that was…

Everything flew out of my mind when I started to clench and quiver. Moans came out of my mouth that sounded guttural and desperate.
“Shh,” he whispered. “You’ll wake my dad.” But I couldn’t stop it, and he ended up clamping his hand over my mouth as I came.

“My turn,” he whispered into my mouth before he pulled out a condom from his nightstand. With practiced ease
, he rolled it on before easing into me gently. All the other times were acting, bucking up to meet them because that was what they wanted. This time, my body rose up of its own accord. And it felt
good.

After he finished, sliding out and disposing of the condom, I just lay there a little stunned. This was unexpected. Once the condom was tossed into the waste paper bin, he slid in beside me, hitting the lamp to turn it off and plunging us into darkness.

After a second he asked, “Your name’s Violent?”

“Violet.”

“That’s an old lady’s name. I prefer Violent,” he murmured. “Violent Violet.”

“I prefer Vicious Violet,” I said into the dark.

He gave a laugh. “That’s good too. And are you? Vicious?”

“Sometimes,” I whispered, but maybe he was asleep by then because he didn’t respond.

I woke up first, contemplating how to get out of his bed without waking him. I was trapped between his sleeping figure and the wall. I felt sticky and gross and really didn’t want to see him. Eventually, I dislodged the blanket and managed to crawl out without disturbing him.
I shook my clothes out before getting dressed quickly.

All my moves were silent. The door closed behind
me with the faintest click. I tiptoed down the hall, cringing at every creak the house made. As I turned into the kitchen, I smiled when I spied a door to the outside.

“Morning.”

I jumped. He had taken me completely by surprise. An older man s
at at the table eating cereal, he looked worn out and not surprised to see me.

“Morning,” I said softly in reply, frozen in my spot.

“I take it you’re a guest of my son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he offer to give you a ride home?” I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was disapproval or not.

“No. He’s asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.” I began to edge toward the door.

“Have a seat.” He kicked a chair out from the table for me before he got to his feet. “Have some breakfast. I’ll get him to give you a ride home.”

“That’s not necessary—
“ A bowl and spoon were placed in front of me, and a generous helping of cereal was poured before milk was added.

“Thanks.” This was awkward. No wonder I didn’t normally screw boys my own age. Damon’s dad disappeared down the hall. I heard muffled voices then
, and a few minutes later they were back. Damon had pulled on jeans and was rubbing his face. He nodded slightly in my direction before digging his spoon into the cereal his dad had poured.

“So, have you lived her
e long?” Mr Lucas asked.

“A few years.”
I put a spoonful in my mouth so I didn’t need to go into detail about where I was from and where my mother was.

“She lives with Ewan,” Damon said between mouthfuls.

“Ewan?” Mr Lucas frowned. “So you’re with the Malones?”

“Yeah.
Diana and Glynn.”

He nodded. “How’s that working out for you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t get a choice. So I make everything work out for me.” I avoided his eyes. I didn’t know if it were my imagination or not, but his demeanour became colder at mention of the Malones.

He cleared his throat, bef
ore getting to his feet. “I’ve got a call out, so I better get going. Damon will give you a ride home.” He grabbed his wallet off the table before turning back to me. “What are you going to tell the Malone’s about being out all night?”

I shook my head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to break the rules. It just happened.”

He smirked. “Yeah, lots of things just ‘happen’ to Damon as well. You kids need to think of better excuses.” Then a serious look came over his face. “I tell you what. I’ll call Diana and tell her that you crashed here because your ride ditched you or something. How’s that?”

My mouth nearly dropped open. “Um, okay. That
would be great. Thanks,” I said warily.

He nodded at me. “Nice meeting you, Violet.”

I gave a tight smile, watching him as he walked out the door. When I turned back to him, Damon was watching me, and I got the feeling that he was laughing at me. “What?”

“You acted like h
e had an ulterior motive or something. He doesn’t. He’s just a good guy. ”

“Oh. Was I rude? I didn’t mean to be.”

Damon shook his head. “No. You just reminded me of a trapped animal for a moment there.”

I stood up and placed my bowl in the sink. “You don’t have to wo
rry about giving me a ride home. I can find my way from here.”

Damon joined me at the sink
and put his own bowl in. “Nah, he’ll know if I don’t. Just give me a minute. I’ll meet you out front.”

His car was
an old Camaro. It was painted black and was shiny like it was polished often. “This is my baby,” he told me when he joined me. He slid his hand along the body in a loving way. “Dad and me restored her together.”

I just nodded. Cars bored me. We didn’t talk on the way back to the Malone’s. The radio was turned up loud anyway. H
e pulled the car into the driveway; Ewan was out front pulling weeds. He turned to watch us, surprised to see me with Damon. Because he was watching, I turned to Damon and said sweetly, “Thanks for the ride. I owe you one.” I kissed him on his cheek, and it was his turn to look warily at me.

I swung my legs out of the car and practically skipped up the path to the house. Damon didn’t bother to stop and talk to
Ewan, he reversed out before I was at the front door.

“Hi!” I sa
ng out to Diana, who sat at the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

She raised her eyebrows at me. “Owen Lucas rang and explained why you didn’t come home last night. Good thing you didn’t, because those doors
were locked tight, young lady. Ewan found that out. He ended up sleeping in the garden shed.”

I tried to look suitably chastised as I walked off to the bathroom. I figured it was safe with Diana
around and Ewan in the garden. As I washed in between my legs, the memory of how Damon touched me down there lingered. I had let myself go, and that wasn’t good. Control was something I couldn’t give up.  Otherwise, I would end like my mother, a living corpse and pleasure’s bitch. I stood with the spray raining down on me, and I turned the water up to as hot as I could tolerate as I tried to forget about my mom.

“Shit.”

I turned toward the door; teeth bared and expecting Ewan, but it was Glynn. He was staring at me, his gaze sliding up from my feet, over my thighs, up to my breasts, before finally landing on my face. “Sorry,” he muttered, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

My eyes didn’t leave that door. “Pig,” I said.

Dinner was again a miserable affair.  Glynn was silent; Diana bitched, and Ewan kept staring at me. I told Diana to leave the dishes to me, and she actually gave me a smile. It was the first genuine one that I’d seen from her. “Thanks, Violet. I need to get to church early. I’m giving part of a sermon. It’s so exciting.”

I plastered a smile on my face. “Great.”

She beamed at me before she went to change. The t-shirt of the day announced ‘Jesus knows all’. It was dyed a cheery orange and was too big so it enveloped her scrawny frame. Faith obviously didn’t give one fashion sense. Glynn was back in his chair watching TV, and Ewan had disappeared.

Predictably though, he came back when I was alone. As I started washing dishes in the sink, I looked up at the window and saw his reflection. My h
and curled over the carving knife I was washing.

“So, you
’re Damon’s piece of ass now?”

I ignored him.

“You know he likes to share his girls with his friends, right?”

I t
urned slowly; he was standing there with a leer on his face.

“That’s too bad for you, huh? You’re obviously not friends now, are you?” I said with a smile. I was ready for him this time.

The instant he took a quick step forward with hand outstretched, that carving knife found its way to rest against his skinny neck. He froze, and I just breathed. It would be so easy to push that knife into his skin. At first there would be blood, dark red spots, then, as I nicked an artery, there would be a violent gush. I would push deeper, exposing gore and muscle until I cut right down to the bone. But I wouldn’t stop there. I would shove the knife through until it came out the other side. I would mount that motherfucker’s head on my wall. Right next to Diana’s Jesus.

“Hey, grab m
e another soda!” Glynn called from the lounge. Ewan’s eyes were stuck on me. But there wasn’t the fear that I had hoped. There was only hatred. He licked his lips, before swallowing.

“Coming!” he called out, his eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, I lowered the knife. But I was stupid. My arm was twisted so fast that I didn’t even have time to scream. I was turned around and pressed so hard against the kitchen counter that it cut painfully into my side. The wet blade of the carving knife was now at my neck, and I bit my lip to stop from crying.

“You’re such a fucking cunt,” he hissed in my ear. “I’m gonna make you beg me, bitch, just to be nice to you. You’ll be crawling at my feet by the time I’m done with you.” Then his iron grip released me, and the knife was thrown in the sink where it landed with a splash. I gasped, breathing heavily as I clutched at my sore arm. Ewan whistled casually as he took out Glynn’s soda and strolled out of the kitchen.