Infiltrating Enemy Territory
I have to maneuver through trash and hop over bottles as I navigate through the packed house. It’s crammed with sweaty teens, body to body and from wall-to-wall. A drunken dark-haired girl with a red shimmering dress and shiny silver heels runs into me, spilling some of her beer on my dress.
“OhmiGod!” She slings her now half-filled plastic cup out the way, fizzy alcohol sloshing from the sides. She attempts to help me dry it with napkins on one of many tables. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I got it.”
Her hand limply drops at her side, the other holding the red cup to her mouth as she chugs down the beer.
The liquid doesn’t penetrate due to the glasslike jewels, so the dress is saved and I’m not wet.
A guy with deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, and oily hair, wraps an arm around her back. “C’mon, Apple. You promised to give it up tonight. The party is dead, now I wanna go home and get my dick wet.”
I don’t understand that in this town even the assholes and douchebags are somehow attractive. It has to be the water, or maybe the cherries.
She giggles and begins to slur. I don’t understand a word she’s saying, but the jerk-off has made his intentions crystal clear. I can’t allow him to take her home, not while she is severely intoxicated like she is.
I grab Apple’s wrist with my good hand and haul her towards me. “Sorry, but Apple promised me should stay with me tonight.”
He stares at me with his red eyes inadvertently half open. He’s obviously high, or drunk, or maybe both. “And who the hell are you?”
“Isabel. Who the hell are you?”
He points to himself, his expression amused. “Me? My name…is Ricky. Ricky Patterson. And you have my girlfriend captive.”
Slanting my head, I look at Apple. Her brown eyes are round and glossy and her cheeks are very chubby with innocence and baby fat and bright pink. She’s young. Really young. “Sorry, Ricky Patterson, but Apple is staying with me tonight. She isn’t fit for any activity. I’ll take her home after I speak to Rex.”
“Rex?” a male voice chimes in.
Derrick West, Jake’s little brother, comes around the corner, his butterscotch-colored eyes on me. Derrick looks like a younger version of Jake: athletic build, brown skin the color of caramel, brilliant, hypnotic eyes the color of honey. And black buzzed-cut hair that’s shaven really close to the scalp.
He’s beautiful.
“Did you just say you had to speak to Rex?” Derrick asks, his eyes narrowing.
“Uh, yeah. I just want to tell him happy birthday,” I whisper, dragging Apple closer to me.
“She won’t let Apple go,” Ricky complains.
Derrick’s eyes shift to Ricky. “I think you should go home, Rick. You’re wasted out of your mind and Apple is too. Coach already said you have one more time to slip up before he kicks you off the team. I can call him right now and express my concern of you wanting to bring intoxicated girls back to your filthy shed and sleep with them and then tell everyone else at school. But from what I’ve heard, you’re packing something light, something unmemorable at best.”
Ricky’s mouth opens in disbelief. “You’d take that bitch’s side? You’re my teammate, man. Work with me, not against me.”
Derrick lifts his thick brows, shaking his head. “No. I don’t get down like that. Instead of gettin’ smashed, what you should have done was look out for Apple. You know what her situation is; you just don’t give a fuck. From the looks of it, she’s going to be sick. But I guess you don’t care about that, either.”
Ricky actually stomps and whines, on the verge of a temper tantrum. “Derrick, man, you don’t understand,” he grips his groin hard with one hand, “I have a problem, a sex problem. I’m a sex addict. I care for Apple, I really do. But the crying, whining, and moping is never-ending with her. I have a mother and four sisters, and I love them all. I listen to their problems all the time. But dammit, sometimes, when it comes to my girl, all I want is a nice warm hole to shove my dick in. Is that really a crime?”
I tense from the lewdness and honesty of it all.
Derrick snorts, un-amused. “Since you’re really fucked up, I’ll let that pass tonight. No girls. No nice warm holes. Go home, Rick. Get some sleep, because you’re going to need it tomorrow when I kick your ass.”
Ricky’s brows crease together. “Yeah, whatever, man.” He looks over at Apple, his eyes flashing fire. “We’re over, Apple. Find someone else to whine to. I’m not your keeper. I got better things to do.” Then he stares at me. “Bitch, I hope you find Rex and get what’s coming to you; he’s just like his brother.” Without another word, Ricky stumbles down the hall and towards the exit.
Apple mumbles something too low to hear and flops down in a black folded chair by the table that’s lined with alcohol bottles and cups. Apple rests her head against the wall as her eyelids droop close.
“She’ll be fine after a vomit break and long nap.”
I nod and turn my attention back to Derrick. “What does that mean?” I ask, confused.
“What does what mean?”
“What Ricky said about Rex being just like his brother?”
“You haven’t heard the rumors?”
I shake my head.
“Everyone says that Max raped Lily and that’s why they’re not together anymore.”
My eyes expand and my throat tightens. “What?”
He shrugs, indifferently. “That’s what everyone says.”
“But he’s a cop.”
“I know. Maybe it’s true. Maybe it’s bullshit. Cherry Creek is always swirling with some kind of secrets and rumors of the town’s residents. I don’t pay any mind to it, though. You shouldn’t either. I only believe things I see with my eyes, and my eyes saw you kissing Lark. You guys were locking face like your lives depended on it.”
“Jealous, Derrick?” I tease.
His breathtaking eyes squint and he takes slow deliberate steps until he’s almost nose to nose with me. “If I wanted to kiss you, I would kiss you.”
Leaning forward, my mouth descends on his, forming my lips to his soft ones. The kiss is just a light peck, because Derrick is too stunned to respond to it. I pull back and smile at him as he stares at me, brows snapping together in either anger, confusion, or both. People gasp and mutter insults under their breath.
I don’t care.
They can say anything they want about me, because it’s about me, not Tyler, not my dead parents. I’m only trading one false reputation for another, so why should I care how they feel towards me.
They don’t know me.
They never will.
Derrick’s eyes fall to the ground and his hand lifts to touch his mouth, his fingers linger on his bottom lip. Maybe he’s savoring the kiss. He looks like he’s pondering and then his eyes gradually meet mine, his gaze full of compassion and sincerity that see through my layers as if I am entirely translucent. “You should get those fixed.”
I jerk my head back and watch his arm drop to his side. “What fixed?”
“Your wings. They’re broken. You need to fix them so you can fly again.”
The pain in my chest is so sudden and severe that I have to take a step back. My body feels seized, my lungs are constricted, and I just want to crumble into nothing and get carried away by the wind.
The hysterical wail rattling in my chest wants out, it’s ripping me apart in the inside. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is barely a whisper.
His expression turns into a pleading one. “I do. My grandma passed two months ago. I loved her more than I loved myself. She was my everything. When she died, a piece of my damn soul died. Let it out. It hurts, but that’s life. You can survive this. Just let it out.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I begin to inhale through my tingly nose. Through the blistering agony and grief, I find some kind of resolve and open my eyes, straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders. I yank a half filled vodka bottle from the table, twist open the cap and gulp. The alcohol scorches my mouth, tongue, throat and chest; it takes the very breath right out of me. I suck in a lungful if oxygen through gritted teeth and wipe the burning, numbing liquid from my lips. “Don’t worry, Derrick. I’ll let it out, maybe with your brother, Jake. He can be next. Do you think he’ll like me?”
“The fuck, Isabel?”
Hero appears from nowhere and jerks the bottle out of my hand. If I didn’t catch myself on the back of Apple’s chair, I would have fallen to the ground from Hero’s raw strength. “What the fuck, Derrick?” He gets dangerously close in Derrick’s face, his expression livid. “You let her drink Everclear?!”
Derrick takes a cautious step back. “She only took a sip. It was fast. I was going to snatch it from her.”
“When? When she’s drunk off her ass?” Hero questions as he takes another step forward.
“Hero,” Derrick puts his palms up, “calm down. I consider you a real friend. I don’t want to fight.”
“I thought we were friends, but this shit—” he holds the bottle up to Derrick’s face and mockingly jiggles it “—should not be going down with her. You know. Goddamn it! YOU KNOW!”
Feeling the angry swell inside of me, I sidestep Hero and put my hands on his hard chest, pushing him with all my might.
He doesn’t even budge.
Hero grabs my wrist, swiftly switching positions and then my back slams into something hard. A wall. He’s gripping my wrists so tightly; I feel my pulse thud heavily against his clenching fingers that pinch my skin. Hero presses up against me, the hard contours of his body against mine. He holds my arms above my head. We both stare at one another, our breathing ragged, and chests heaving. His scent, that’s so very similar to Hunter’s, is suffocating me. I struggle in his grasp, trying to free myself. But he only uses more force to pin me down and the Everclear bottle is still in his hand.
Narrowing my eyes, I look into stormy dark blue ones that stare back at me. There is an array of emotions brewing there: animosity, frustration, annoyance, irritation, misery, confusion, attraction, loathsome, aroused, bewilderment.
My wrists grow limp in his hands. “It’s okay,” I breathe. I spread my legs further apart, letting his hips fall deeper into mine. “You can have me, Hero. I can share.”
He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on mine, his breathing still labored. Hero gives me the tiniest of a thrust, the hardness of his arousal nudging me through the material of his jeans.
I inhale sharply.
“This is fucking insane,” he whispers very lowly so I can only hear. “God, I don’t even know why…” he trails off, sighing and shaking his head.
“Shh. It’s okay. You don’t have to explain; I don’t care either way. Let me talk to Rex. You can take me after.”
His eyes fly open, his face contorting into disbelief and disgust. He releases my wrists, taking a step back.
I massage the harsh red rings around my wrists. My eyes glance around the corridor and I notice that we have gathered a small crowd of partygoers. They drink from their cups and murmur things among themselves; some even snap pictures and take recordings with their phones.
“I’m going to take Apple home,” Derrick declares, scooping her from the chair and over his shoulder. He places a hand on the back of her thighs, covering her exposed skin from prying eyes.
Hero scrubs his face with his hand. “Thanks, Dee. Sorry, man. Almost lost it there,” Hero says quietly, placing the bottle back on the table.
Derrick lifts his chin and they bump fists. “Later, Hero.” Derrick twists his neck to look back at me. “Get those wings fixed, Isabel.”
I scrunch of my face, rolling my eyes and watch him saunter down the hall with a passed out girl limply hanging over his shoulder.
“Why do you need to talk to Rex?” Hero asks suspiciously.
“I just want to tell him happy birthday,” I lie, batting my lashes. The long gulp I took has me buzzing a little. I feel lighter, not drunk yet though.
Hero’s eyes run the length of my body, disapproving and judging the entire time. “That dress is way too short. I can almost see the color of your panties.”
I step closer to him and lower my voice to a low octave for his ears only. “I think you’re wrong. It’s not short enough, considering I’m not wearing any panties.”
Without a word, his fingers curl into my elbow and he drags me down the hallway, through the sea of bodies, out the front door. Hero abruptly stops. I look up to see Rex and all his masculine glory, wearing all black, in his path. “What’s this?” Rex says, his electric blue eyes sliding around Hero to me.
“Nothing,” Hero replies. His fingers tighten on my elbow and I whimper. “I’m taking her home.”
Rex studies me for a long moment, his eyes thoroughly taking in my hair, my face, my dress, my shoes, and finally on Hero’s hand at my elbow. His long, steady gaze has gone beyond natural curiosity and makes me feel like I’m some kind of foreign object, filed and labeled for further inspection. There’s something about his intense blue eyes that are so very familiar. “Did you come to wish me happy birthday, Isabel?”
Hero dips his head down to stare at me expectedly.
I jerk my elbow free. “Yes.”
Rex’s eyes shift up to Hero. “I think she wants to stay.”
“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Hero counters.
“I think she does. You shouldn’t pressure a lady to do things she doesn’t want to do.”
“Yeah, you know all about that,” Hero scoffs.
Rex’s eyes change into something dark and deadly, he flexes his fingers at his side. “I guess you’re right.” Then he smiles, blinding and lethal. His gleaming blue eyes fall back on me and see right through me.
A wave of panic washes over me and a prickle races down the line of my spine. I grip the back of Hero’s T-shirt, burying my face in the soft material. “I wouldn’t rape her here though, not with everyone watching, unless she’s into that kind of shit. Are you into that, Isabel?”
“Motherfucker!”
I feel Hero’s entire body tense, lurching forward and then he stops abruptly.
“Hey now,” a female’s voice cautions. “Leave shit where it’s at. Don’t get your hands filthy with it.”
“Move, Taylor!” Hero shouts.
“I think you’re absolutely correct. We should move, like, to your car. I ran my ass down here, so you owe me a ride back home,” Taylor says, laughing, trying her best to lighten the situation.
“I think she’s right,” Rex says, his voice tight and serious.
We, as in Hero and I, begin to move. I lift my head to see a lanky girl, her loosely curly hair midnight under the moon, hauling and dragging Hero by the hand to his black Audi sedan. I shudder as I pass Rex and his fierce glare. I follow Hero, linked by his shirt.
Hero pulls his keys out and unlocks the doors, the headlights flashing on. My fingers unclench his shirt. Taylor pries open the door and I’m shoved into the backseat by her. She shuts my door and climbs into the passenger seat and Hero settles in. The doors slam shut and the engine roars to life. “Strap up,” he demands.
Both sounds of our seat-belts click and Hero presses on the accelerator, sending us flying down the street. My body jolts against the belt that firmly holds me against the smooth leather.