Violence Begets... (11 page)

Rick

My dad avoided me and I avoided Kevin.
I’d come home after being gone for days, and my dad had glanced at me long enough
to see the remnants of the thrashing he’d given me. I’d stood there staring at him,
letting him see exactly what he’d done. I’d even thought of taking off my shirt
like Kevin had to give further evidence, but after several moments he’d averted
his eyes and taken great care to avoid any contact as he escaped from the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Kevin didn’t give up
as easily. I was disgusted with what had happened between the two of us, and I blamed
my response to his kiss on the mess leading up to it. I hadn't been in my right
mind. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn, bringing on a bout of nausea.

There was a part of me that felt guilty
for not reaching out to him. He’d been around for me so often after run-ins with
my dad, and a small part of me felt like I should be there for him. But every time
I thought about what his dad was doing, I ended up thinking about what Kevin had
done. How he had kissed me.

There was a part of me that knew it
was dangerous to ignore him, and I knew him well enough to know that my house was
no safe haven from him. It’d take Kevin very little effort to track me down and
corner me. When he did, I wasn’t sure what I expected him to do, but whatever it
was, I didn’t want any part of it.

Only hours after I'd returned home,
I called Jessica.

“Hey, stranger, where you been?” she
said cheerfully.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve kinda been lame
about keeping in touch.”

“No biggie, it’s who you are. You know
it's cool by me. Remember, no strings.” My heart hurt a little when she said this.
I felt like I was taking advantage of her sometimes—just hooking up when it worked
out. But then the thought of Kevin’s lips on mine pushed into my memory, and I glowered
at the ceiling over my bed.

We did the small-talk thing. I asked
her how her summer was going and she told me about a new deck of tarot cards she’d
gotten. As usual, she didn’t ask a lot about what I was up to. It had always been
that way. I think she knew that if I wanted to share, I would. Finally, the real
reason I called couldn’t be avoided.

“So hey, I need a favor, and feel free
to say no, but it would help me out a ton,” I said, carefully avoiding the need
to lie. “You see, I kinda messed with the wrong guy and I’m worried he’s gonna come
looking for me.” I knew the bruises my dad left would lead her in the direction
I wanted without actually lying. “I know your parents are in Cape Cod right now.
Would you mind if I crashed at your place for a few days?” I didn’t have to hold
my breath for long.

“Sure, no problem. When will you be
here?”

“Jessica, this is kinda a big deal.
Are you sure?”

“You’ve never asked me for anything,
Rick. If you need this, it must be serious.”

“It is. But what about your parents?
Will they find out?”

“I’ll think of something. Don’t worry
‘bout them.”

I was stunned into silence, not quite
believing she would’ve granted my request so easily.

“Rick, you there?”

“Yeah,” I said, biting back my emotions.

“Listen, it’s no biggie. Just come on
up when you’re ready. I’ll see you soon.”

I heard the line go dead, and I sat
there holding my phone for several seconds before slipping it into my pocket.

I had just finished packing my bag for
Jessica’s when I heard Sylvia return home with Emma. As usual, Emma came barreling
into my room with excitement, coming up short when she saw the bruises and cuts
on my face.

“Hey schmunchkin!” I said, swooping
her up in a hug while ignoring the pain the best I could. She resisted only a little,
pulling back to look into my eyes.

“What happened?” she asked with concern.

“Nothing, honey, I’m okay. Just got
in a little car accident.” The lie came so much easier than I'd expected. “I’m going
to be just fine.” She eyed me cautiously, not sure if she wanted to believe me.
I smiled at her, trying to reassure her that things were going to be okay. “Tell
me how Grandma and Grandpa’s was,” I said, changing the subject as I dropped her
down gently onto my bed.

“I missed you,” she sighed, accepting
my reassurances.

“I missed you too, but I bet you got
to watch some fun fireworks.”

After a fairly lengthy description of
her weeklong adventure and a bout of tickle torture accompanied by wild giggles,
I broke the news to her that I was going to stay with a friend for a few days. At
her look of sadness I promised I’d call her every night before bedtime. Sylvia interrupted
us moments later, asking Emma to go say hello to our dad.

After Emma left, Sylvia paused for a
moment at the sight of me before asking, “Another fight?” with a slight edge to
her tone.

“No, a car accident.” I said flatly.

“Uh huh,” she commented as if she didn’t
believe me—and she shouldn’t have. “Anyway, I’m not sure what’s going on with you
and your dad, but you really need to try harder not to upset him.” She continued
on without showing any concern about my make-believe car accident. “The last thing
he needs right now is you going off on one of your rebellions.”

 “What are you even talking about?”
I asked, barely holding back my anger. Even if she was stupid enough not to see
what was going on, how could she launch right into a lecture after seeing the condition
I was in?

“He’s drinking more and I know you’re
not helping the situation. Just stay out of his way, okay? Just let him be. You’ve
done enough.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” I said, grabbing
my overnight bag. “I’ll stay out of his way. Let him know I’ll be home when I’m
home.” I stepped around her and took the stairs two at a time, not able to get out
of my house fast enough.

Although I went out the front door,
I immediately went around the side of the house to the backyard. I had to be incredibly
careful to avoid being seen by Kevin, which meant I stayed off the street and went
through all the backyards on the way to Jessica’s. I was counting on the fact that
Kevin wouldn’t think I'd be stupid enough to move in with his next-door neighbor
while trying to avoid him. Also, asking my somewhat girlfriend to crash at her place
while her parents were out of town took more balls than I think he gave me credit
for.

The next several days were some of the
easiest and most relaxed days I’d had in years. We stayed up late talking about
the most random things and never seemed to run out of stuff to say. She asked me
only once if I wanted to go out to her hot tub or look at the stars on her roof,
but she backed off when she realized I didn’t want to leave her house. We did talk
about the bruises, and she seemed skeptical when I laid out a different story for
her. She asked if the guy I told her about was the same one I always seemed to have
problems with. Part of me wished she would just ask if it was my dad. I wondered
if she even considered it as a possibility, but even if she had asked, I would probably
have denied it.

Despite my soreness, I was determined
to show her a good time in bed. That’s what boyfriends—or whatever I was—did when
parents were out of town. I even convinced myself that I wasn’t thinking about Kevin’s
kiss while we were having sex.

The night Jessica’s parents came home,
I made myself scarce and snuck out the back door. I figured it was early enough
for the guys to not be out at Zarahemla yet, and decided to swing by and smoke a
quick joint before facing my dad. I sat in the seat Kevin had pretty much assigned
me that first night and pulled out a joint. My mind numbed a bit, and I felt the
anxiety of the past week drift away as I exhaled each stream of smoke.

When I was almost done with my joint,
I noticed a slight movement in my peripheral vision and spun to find Kevin sitting
against a sidewall, staring at me. I took in the long hair falling loosely around
his face and wondered if I’d I ever really noticed how his dark hair cast shadows
across his set jaw. His arm rested carelessly on the black jeans of his upraised
knee. His shirt clung tightly to his body and I remembered what it was hiding. Even
in one-hundred-degree July weather, the long-sleeved shirt made sense now. A half-smoked
cigarette dangled from his fingers. He had a slight smile on his face and my stomach
lurched at the sight of him.

“I figured you’d show up here sooner
or later,” he said as he stood and casually walked towards me. He reminded me of
a black cat, stalking its prey.

“How long you been here?” I asked, standing
and glancing towards the door, my exit.

“Since before you.”

I jerked my head back to look at him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I enjoyed watching you.”

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the show because
it’s over now.” With exit plan in place, I headed for the door.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked,
and I heard him making his way towards me.

“I’m not avoiding you. I just don’t
wanna be around you right now.”

“Isn’t that what avoidance is?”

I kept walking. He grabbed my arm and
spun me around. “Don’t touch me,” I said angrily as I yanked my arm away from him.
“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours?” he spat back at me.

“Kevin, the other night...” I hadn’t
meant to bring it up, but he had to know how grossed out I was.

He laughed. “Is that what this is all
about, Saint Ricky?” Although he was laughing, his eyes were dead. He was being
cruel like his father.

“I’m not playing your games,” I said,
turning to walk away again and making it almost to the entrance before he grabbed
me and shoved me into the wall, using his body weight to restrain me. One hand held
my arms above my head while the other closed around my neck.

“Tell me about the games I’m playing,”
he hissed, glaring at me.

“Whatever that was the other night,
it was disgusting!” I said, pushing out as his fingers tightened.

“That is not what your actions told
me,” he whispered as he moved his mouth close to mine. I didn’t breathe, though
I still struggled against his hold. In an instant I was both scared he’d kiss me
and terrified he wouldn’t.

“What kind of game are you playing with
me?” I asked as anger coursed through me and I looked away.

He used his hand under my neck to force
my face towards his, but I refused to meet his eyes. I was afraid of what my body
might do if I did. “Rick, look at me,” he said coldly as his grip on my neck tightened.
“Look at me.”

He sounded like his father, and my gaze
shifted to his. He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes as I felt his lips
on mine again. At first they were soft but cold, but within seconds they turned
hard and demanding. I struggled to pull away from him, fighting him as much as I
fought my own body, but at his persistence my weakness caved to his power and my
lips started to move with his. He let go of my hands above my head but still used
his weight and his hand around my neck to keep me in place. I felt my arms circle
his neck, surprised that they were drawing him even closer to me. His free arm slipped
behind my back and he pulled me tightly against him as I gasped at his strength.

“It seems your body tells a much different
story than your words, Saint Ricky,” he gloated as he abruptly ended the kiss and
reality crashed over me.

With everything I had, I balled up my
fist and slammed it against his face. He stumbled back and brought his hand up to
his cheek.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” he
smirked.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,”
I threw at him as I shook off the tingling pain I felt in my hand and wrist.

“I wasn’t talking about the punch,”
he said, then winked and turned away with a smile.

Kevin

Sweet Jesus, Holy Mother of God!
These were the first thoughts that flew through my head as I walked out of the barn,
followed by the realization that I was hard as a fucking rock! As soon as I was
hidden from Zarahemla, I leaned against a nearby tree with my hands on my knees,
trying to control my damn body. I’d planned on doing a lot more than just a little
kiss, but holy fuck, the second he’d caved and stopped fighting, I’d completely
lost it. I had no idea what the fuck had happened. I slammed my fist into a tree,
distracting myself from the body that’d just betrayed me. How the fuck was I supposed
to control Saint Ricky if I couldn’t even control myself?

I had a plan for how to play my game
with him. Rick’s greatest weakness was his damn heart. He fucking cared. So all
I had to do was get him to care about me as more than a friend and I’d seal his
fate with mine. If he outed me, he outed himself. And it went without saying that
if he fell in love with me, I could string him along until next summer, until I
was safely out of my father’s reach. As long as he cared, he’d keep my secrets;
however, the whole damn thing hinged on me being in fucking control. I was completely
losing it, and it scared the shit outta me. I knew that being off my game could
get me killed. I’d survived my father’s punishments as long as I had because I was
able to shut out what my body felt. I could snap my mind into a place where the
pain was dulled—never extinguished but controlled. If I couldn’t control a lousy
hard-on, how the fuck was I supposed to handle a beating with a broom handle?

I knew this was completely un-fucking-acceptable!
I had to pull it together. What I needed was to talk some sense into myself. I needed
more than just an end goal. I needed action steps to get me there. Step one would
be to tease him. I had to keep him thinking about me, giving him just enough but
always leaving him wanting more, but he also had to feel safe. He had to be able
to trust that I wouldn’t push him too far. Finally, he had to want me, trust me,
and care for me enough to let me fuck him. That was the crown jewel. I had to get
him in bed. Once he submitted to me, I owned him.

I ran my fingers through my hair, knowing
it’d be hell. He never reacted how I wanted him to. I could get him almost where
I wanted, and then he’d go and do something that would fuck it up. And now the most
unpredictable shit of the whole mess was my own goddamn body. I was just going to
have to deal with that. I’d dealt with much worse than blue balls.

I knew he didn’t trust me, but I was
also aware that he wanted me enough to respond to me physically. My plan was to
go back to the basics. I had to flirt with him. I was sure I could handle it as
I’d been charming men into bed for years. I just never thought I’d have to use my
talents on a classmate; that’s where my fists usually came in. But Saint Ricky had
managed to cross into the world where my sex appeal was stronger than any violence
I might use to keep him in line. I steadied myself. Rick would be no match for the
magnetism I was about to turn on just for him.

I walked back into Zarahemla. I hadn’t
heard him leave, which didn’t mean much these days, but I was hoping he was still
there. I had to be patient. I would begin small.

“Hey, forgot my smokes,” I said, barely
glancing at him. I made a show of picking up an empty pack of smokes and shoving
them into my pocket. As I was about to walk out the front entrance, I hesitated,
turned slightly towards him, shook my head and kept walking, knowing he was watching
every step I made. “Fuck it,” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear and turned to
him. He averted his eyes immediately. “Listen, I’m sorry. That was outta line.”
I was well aware he’d never heard me apologize to anyone. Fuck, I didn’t apologize
to anyone but my father, and this thought brought a flash of me apologizing to him
while Rick was hiding in the closet. Cursing, I shoved that memory back where it
belonged. I hated how he was wrapped up in all three of my worlds. No one had ever
crossed a single boundary, let alone all of them.

When he didn’t respond to my apology,
I took a well-thought-out, tentative step in his direction. The best lies and manipulations
were built on truth, I reminded myself. “I was kinda freaked out, you know? I mean
no one knows that shit about me.” I wanted to crawl out of my skin as I acknowledged
what he knew about me. I didn’t want to talk about this shit to anyone. It wasn’t
right. When he looked like he was about to say something, I spoke first. “So anyway,
gotta run. Just sorry, you know?” God, I sounded pathetic. I turned and hurried
out before he could reply.

I left him alone. I had to be patient.
It wasn’t easy, but it was part of my plan, so after taking off, I pushed the motherfucker
far from my mind. Every instinct told me to act fast, to rip off the band-aid all
at once, but I didn’t trust my instincts with him. True to form, he kept his distance
over the next few days, and I allowed it. I still wondered where the fuck he’d disappeared
to that night after leaving my house but knew one day I’d figure it out.

I began small. I’d let him catch me
watching him and I’d look away. After a handful of these lingering glances, I stopped
looking away and tried to lose myself in his eyes. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I
thought it’d be. Every now and then, I’d actually find a smile tugging at my lips
when he didn’t look away either. At the beginning, I could tell he was still repulsed
by the idea, and I had to admit it fucked with my pride, but as the exchanged glances
happened more often, the awkwardness started to fade right on schedule.

On the walk to Zarahemla one day, I
let my hand brush against his as we walked next to each other. He flinched from
the contact, but pulling my hand back wasn’t staged. There was heat, and it surprised
me just as much as it did him. When I found myself sitting next to him at someone’s
house, I’d use his thigh to help myself stand up. Whenever I walked behind him,
I’d trace my fingers along the small of his back. Again, he avoided my touch whenever
he could, but the more he resisted me, the more I knew I had to have him.

I was addicted. It was a challenge for
me to find different ways to touch him and not be noticed by the others. With every
graze and every stare, I knew I was getting myself into trouble, but I also knew
I had to stick with my plan if things were ever going to be in my control again.
One could only win big by risking big, and I was risking it all.

I was still an ass in my own right.
I had to be. I couldn’t lose my standing with the others, and this also meant putting
Rick into place when he stepped out of line in front of them. But I began enjoying
it less and less. It seemed so damn counter-productive to cut him down when I was
trying to get him to trust me.

Rick

My mind exploded and my heart stopped
the second I felt the heat from his fingers. The movie continued to play and the
guys were engrossed in it while I had no clue what movie was even playing. I sat
on the floor in front of his couch, and he was lying on the couch behind me. When
his hand casually fell to his side, the brush of his fingers against the base of
my neck sent chills down my arms. My body fought to lean into his hand, to feel
more of his touch, but my mind paralyzed me.

I hated him. I hated the way he made
me feel and the way he’d started to haunt my dreams. He was playing at some sort
of game, and it was messing with my head, making me feel things that were wrong
and could destroy my life. I wasn’t gay, and considering how many girls I’d seen
him with, I knew he wasn’t either. I had to ask myself why he insisted on tormenting
me with his twisted ploy.

I wondered if he even knew he was touching
me. There was no way he could not know what he was doing to my resolve. My mind
whirled around and around as I tried to focus on anything but his fingers. Then
I felt it. It wasn’t much, but it was deliberate. One finger moved excruciatingly
slowly, hair by single hair. He couldn’t have moved his finger more than a half
an inch up, then back down my neck when he stopped, still in full contact but not
moving. I felt every cell in his finger where it connected with the back of my neck.
The fire that seemed to radiate from his touch swirled and centered only where his
skin touched mine, followed by the anxious and dreaded feeling in my gut, screaming
at my body to ignore him.

Minute after minute, I fought the urge
to run from his house. I wanted to get away from him and what I was feeling, but
with a single finger he had bound me to the spot. Just when I thought I must have
imagined his movement, he made another play, tracing two fingers of fire across
my skin. Slowly. I held my breath. Deliberately. As chills screamed to the surface
of my body, I knew he saw what his touch was doing to me, and I was completely helpless
to stop him.

Every time he did something along these
lines, I was convinced he was setting the trap. He was going to do something or
say something to the guys and they would all know. He’d convince them that I wanted
him, and my life would be over. At first, I was sure it was all in my head—the looks,
the accidental touches—but with his fingers tracing fire on my skin, causing my
stomach to clench and tighten, it was most definitely not in my head. I couldn’t
bear the thought of him touching me any longer. I was disgusted with the way my
body was reacting to what he was doing. In slow motion, I shifted away from his
touch, tucking my legs under me to assist in standing up. I had to get away from
him, and a temporary escape to the bathroom seemed my only choice.

I felt his eyes tracing every inch of
my retreating body. His front room was impossibly long, every step taking an endless
amount of time. I could still feel his burning eyes as I closed the bathroom door.
Even though it was around the corner and down the hall, if anyone had x-ray vision,
it was Kevin.

Kevin

I was impressed. He didn’t even seem
rattled, but if I was, then he had to be. I knew he was still fighting himself,
what he wanted, or, should I say, who he wanted! I reached in my pocket and slowly
pulled out my phone. Without drawing attention to myself, I pushed several buttons
until my ringtone interrupted the movie. I flipped it up to my ear.

“Yeah,” I said, standing up and leaving
the room. I looped through the kitchen, my voice trailing behind me in a one-sided
conversation. As soon as I was out of the living room, I slipped the phone onto
silent and back into my pocket. The last thing I needed was it actually ringing
and fucking up my plan. I could hear the water running in the bathroom and prayed
he’d left the door unlocked. Of course, he hadn’t.

I waited patiently outside the door.
I could hear the water splashing in the sink and imagined him flushing it over his
face. It was what I’d do. The water turned off and I poised myself, hand on doorknob.
The second I heard the lock click, I turned the knob, pushed my way in and closed
the door quietly behind me, locking it again. He stumbled back a few steps, obviously
confused. I waited. The confusion faded, followed by questioning, doubt, and then
realization. I smiled.

“Hi,” I said simply.

“What…?”

I took a slow step forward, and he snapped
his mouth shut and took a step back. Another step.

“Umm…” He looked towards the door, panicked.
I didn’t want panic.

“The door’s locked,” I said, pleased
to see a little bit of relief. He wasn’t as scared of me as he was of the guys walking
in, which told me he wanted me. He couldn’t turn off the desire I saw in his eyes,
even if it was mixed with fear. He took another step back. He was not on board yet.
Two more steps and he’d be out of room to back up. I liked the perspective the mirror
gave me. He had a nice ass. I could see the mischief in my black eyes—seductive
and charming. It was a look I had perfected, and it’d never let me down.

“Kevin?” he strangled out.

“Yeah,” I answered as I took another
casual step, relaxing my body. I didn’t want to threaten or scare him.

Silence, and he was out of steps. He
glanced at the counter behind him and I took advantage of his distraction to move
my body in line with his, my hands pressing gently on the edge of the counter to
either side of him. He made a noise, a startled intake of breath, almost a question
lacing through the wisps of air as he exhaled. Cinnamon? When had he started chewing
gum? A smattering of thoughts raced through my head.
Fuck! Control! Goal! Focus!
Failing could literally cost me my life at the hands of my father. I’d never had
anything so big on the line.

His eyes hazed over like thin clouds
over the sun on a hot day. I felt my desire and knew I had to allow him to see it,
to believe in the reality. I relaxed my body into his. He leaned back further but
didn’t bolt. I saw his chest muscles tighten under his shirt as he tensed for a
fight. I took a deep breath, inhaling him—cinnamon, smoke, sweet and sexy. I felt
my own lust dawn in my eyes and saw his reaction as it happened, his body coming
forward, not fighting the inevitable. I moved towards his neck, wanting more of
his smell, trying to breathe in more, my lips resting near the base of his ear,
softly kissing, wanting to taste his skin. I wondered if he would taste like his
smell or like his mouth. The last time I’d kissed him, his mouth was rich and deep
like hickory. Would it be spicy with cinnamon now? Another deep breath and I pressed
into him harder.