Pretty Little Things

Page 2

I held in my breath as my chest began to burn, and I coughed, a giggle escaping me as Jacob’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. My cheeks heated under his gaze as his tongue rolled out over his lower lip.
“What?” I asked, my head tilted as I watched his eyes study me, feeling a blush creep over my cheeks.
“I feel like I’m corrupting you.” He shook his head, but his gaze settled on my legs and slowly drifted upward. I smoothed my hands over the skirt of my dress, feeling naked under his scrutinizing gaze. But this was what I’d been wanting, someone who didn’t want me to be perfect.
“I’d have to be innocent for you to corrupt me.” My fingers grasped the hem of my skirt, and I slid it up my thigh an inch, watching as the column of his throat jumped from a hard swallow. He placed his hand over mine, lacing our fingers before pulling it to his face and pressing a soft kiss to my skin.
“You’re such a tease.”
I felt oddly comforted by the fact that he didn’t want to use me to get in my pants, and I didn’t need to be a mindless bimbo like all of the other girls in town. I leaned my head against his shoulder as he took the remote from my hand and flipped through the channels. “Let’s do something for your birthday. Let me make you a cake or”—he laughed—“buy you a cake or something.”
I smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I wish I could, but I’m having dinner with my family.” The truth was I wasn’t even sure anyone remembered, but to say it out loud was too embarrassing.
He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and with a heavy sigh I let my eyes fall closed.
The next thing I remember was waking up, my mouth tasting like it was full of cotton. Jacob was lying sideways, his legs off the couch, and I was resting my head on his chest.
“Shit!” I pushed up from him, wiping the hair from my face.
“What? What’s wrong?” He pushed up on his elbows and rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand as he blinked away his exhaustion.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. What time is it?” I combed my fingers through my messy hair, my eyes darting around the dark room. The television was now playing a workout infomercial. “I have to go.” I pushed against Jake’s legs to move him out of my way so I could get off the couch without straddling his body.
“Let me walk you.” He yawned through his words as he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he shook his head.
“No. Go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.” I turned to leave, but his fingers looped around my wrist, and I almost tumbled backward onto his lap. “Jake, I have to go.”
“I’m walking you to the fence.”
I twisted around to look at his face, which was illuminated by the television. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, and neither was I. “All right. Hurry up.”
Jacob pushed from the couch and put his hands on my hips from behind as he guided me from the house and out to the old field. I laced my fingers with his and gazed up at his beautiful face in the moonlight. He made my heart stop and race at the same time. The hard lines of his jaw, nose, and cheekbones made him look like he was carved from granite. His eyes looked black as coal, a stark contrast to his pale skin.
“When are you coming to see me again?” he asked, his eyes searching over my face.
“Depends on whether or not I get caught sneaking in,” I laughed, but it was out of nervousness. I was not in the mood for Colin’s bullshit. If he found out I was sneaking around with Jacob, I’d never hear the end of it.
I slowed as we reached the fence, not wanting to leave his side.
“Come see me tomorrow.” He tugged on my hand, turning me to face him.
“It may be a few days.”
He nodded as he gazed out to the fence. “You want me to walk you to your house?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s private property. I’m the only one who ever goes in those woods.” I gripped the front of his Ramones T-shirt and pressed my mouth against his, letting my lips linger. As I pulled back, Jake’s eyes slowly opened, and he grinned his heart-stopping crooked smile, his dark eyes hooded.
“I’ll see you later.” He ran his hand over his hair, causing it to stick up in every direction.
“Bye.” I waved as I slipped through the hole in the fence and disappeared into the trees toward my home.
Chapter 2 - Colin
I drained my double shot of Jim Beam down my throat, the burn long gone and replaced by numbness an hour ago. I looked down at my watch, but it was too dark to see the time, which was probably for the best because it would only enrage me further. It was three in the morning last time I’d checked. Annie hadn’t called or texted, but her best friend Mara, whom she was supposed to be out with, had stopped by four hours ago looking for her.
When I heard the doorknob turn, I sat holding my empty glass in the formal living room, veiled in shadows. She stepped inside, walking on her tiptoes as she shut the door behind her, flinching as it clicked loudly into the lock and echoed throughout the cavernous space. She tiptoed to the stairs and grabbed hold of the banister.
“Is this fun for you?” I asked, and she jumped, grabbing her chest as she turned toward the sound of my voice, her eyes narrowed as she searched me out.
“Could you be more dramatic?” she whisper-yelled, not wanting to disturb Connor from his sleep, even though his room was on the third floor and he slept like the dead.
“More dramatic?” I asked as I pushed to my feet. I hurled the glass across the room, and it connected with the inside of the living room wall, shattering into the darkness. “That better?” I asked, arms stretched out at my sides as I walked toward her.
Her hands went over her face reflexively, and as she lowered them she stared daggers at me. “I don’t have to listen to you.”
“That so? Where were you?” I hurried toward her angrily. My filter had disintegrated with each drink, and now I was dangling from the edge of aggression.
“None of your business,” she snapped and took off up the steps to avoid me, slipping and coming down hard on her knee, the cracking sound enough to cause me to flinch. She let out a cry of pain as she clutched at her leg, her body splayed on the staircase like a broken doll. This is what happens to girls who get too close to me.
I took the first three steps in one stride and lifted her effortlessly into my arms to carry her up to her room. “Fuck, Annabel,” I groaned as we made it to the darkened hall above, and I kicked open her door with my foot. She cried, her tears wetting my bare chest. I laid her in the center of her bed and brushed the hair from her face, causing her to flinch and clutch her cheek.
“You hit your face?” Through the moonlight coming in through her window, I could see her nod, and the shadow of a forming bruise was already evident. “Hold on.” I hurried back downstairs and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a red dish towel. When I made it back to her room, she was lying on her side, her hand on her face. I pulled her fingers away and pressed the ice pack to her cheek. She flinched, but her hand slid over mine to hold it in place. I stood up and sighed as I ran my hand over my dark, short hair.
“Thank you,” she whimpered, sounding years younger than seventeen and more like that girl I had met a lifetime ago.
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re still going to tell me where you were.”
“I was out with friends.”
“You need to trust me and let me protect you. It’s my job.”
“I don’t need you to protect me, Colin. I just want you to leave me alone.” She rolled farther away, and the pain of her words hurt worse than a physical blow could inflict.
“Because you’re so good at taking care of yourself? Look at you? You just kicked your own ass.”
“I don’t need to protect myself,” she bit back, her feelings hurt from my implication that she was helpless.
That was it. That’s what I was waiting to hear. She had met someone, and I had no idea who this guy was, and the fact that she smelled like marijuana did not get by me. The once perfect and innocent Annabel was falling from grace, hell-bent on proving me wrong about who she was. “You can continue to pretend that our life before we moved here was all just a bad dream. I wish I had that luxury. But I know exactly what happens to girls like you who think they are invincible.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” she challenged.
“I prove them wrong.”
She rolled over halfway to face me in the dark. “Go away, Colin.”
I stared at her shadowed silhouette for a moment before forcing myself to leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me but not latching it. My room was directly across the hall, and I slipped inside, leaving it wide open. I slid my dark suit pants down and kicked them off, falling onto my bed in only my gray boxer briefs. I could hear Annie’s muffled cries from across the hall, and it killed me inside that I couldn’t help her, that I couldn’t trust myself.
When her sobs subsided, I was able to drift off into a nightmare-filled sleep, plagued by memories of a youth spent in hell. I was thankful Annie was able to block it out enough that she could project the appearance of functioning normally, but I knew it ate her up inside as much as it did me. I would gladly hold the weight of our troubled past if it meant she would have a normal future. Watching her slowly throw it away killed me inside.
I watched as Taylor’s hand came down hard across Marie’s cheek, and the sound of her grunt echoed in the large room as she fell to her side, catching herself on her hip and hands. Her strawberry blond hair covered her tear-soaked face. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat as he looked over at me. “Disobedience will not be tolerated.” I nodded and watched the girl, a few years older than me but half my size, lie helpless and sobbing on the floor. It was a scenario I’d seen play out dozens of times. It no longer fazed me. It was the way things were. Every story was different and the same. This girl was a runaway who prostituted herself out in order to score drugs. I didn’t know why Taylor even bothered bringing her in, but she fit the profile—blond hair and green eyes laced with flecks of gold—and he was becoming desperate to bring validity to his visions. The church was growing restless.
You either accepted the rules or you were beaten into submission, and Taylor was very creative with his punishments. I carried the scars on my flesh to prove it. “Pay close attention, boy.”
I nodded once and waited. He grabbed Marie’s arm and jerked her to her feet, giving her a second to regain her balance. I was sure that by morning her hip would be bruised, and simple acts such as walking would be difficult.
At fourteen, I was now being taught the inner workings of the church in order to prepare me for the day I would take Taylor’s place. All encounters were videotaped for church records, something I never batted an eye at because it was just the way it was. To say my upbringing was unconventional was an understatement. The Descendants of God was a country-wide organization, and I was living at the epicenter and learning directly from our founder himself, Taylor Woodward.
He unfastened his belt as Marie wrapped her arms around her waist, sobs ripping from her chest.
“Don’t hit me.” Her pleading fell on deaf ears. I was no longer swayed by other people’s pain. My empathy had long evaporated with every scar I received. Bad things didn’t just happen to bad people. This was a fact.
He reached out and ran his thumb over her cheek to wipe away her tears. “Shh, I wasn’t going to hit you. Praying isn’t the only thing you will do on your knees around here.” Her gaze fell lower, and she watched as he undid his pants. I glanced at the red light on the camera that sat in the corner of the room atop a tripod and kept my expression unreadable, not wanting Taylor to see how much this still bothered me when he reviewed the tape. The only thing worse than the depraved acts I was forced to witness was having our leader deem me useless. I’d seen what happened to those who didn’t conform, and I wasn’t ready to meet my maker.
I awoke to my mattress being nudged. My eyes flew open, and I stared up at Annie’s messy, wild hair from a night of restless sleep. She was wearing one of my white undershirts, and it fell to midthigh. Mascara was smudged under her eyes from a late night.
“What’s wrong?” I groaned as I blinked back the harsh sunlight that poured through my window. Annie’s blurry image slowly came into focus. She held out a bottle of water and two pills in the other hand. I grabbed my covers and pulled them up, suddenly realizing it was morning and I was only in my underwear. The evidence of my twisted, f**ked-up past was painfully hard, and control was something I lacked when I needed release. “Fuck, you could have knocked,” I snapped.
“You could close your door if you want me to knock.” She laughed as she set the bottle of water on my bare chest. The cold made me jump, and I sat up, my head thumping with the sudden movement. “Here.”
I held out my hand, and she dropped the pills into my palm before tucking her hair behind her ear and sitting down on the edge of my bed with one leg tucked under her.
I swallowed them down and drank the bottle of water in one long sip. Her eyebrow rose as she watched me and shook her head. I rubbed the heels of my hands over my eyes and looked over at her, taking in the purpling of her cheekbone on her otherwise perfect porcelain skin.
“Shit,” I groaned and reached out to run the pad of my finger over the mark, but she pulled back and swatted my hand away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m fine.” Just like that she shrugged it off as if it had never happened. Had her face not bore the mark of the encounter, it would have been erased from her memory entirely. That was what I envied about Annabel. She could block out anything that caused her pain and live in a bubble of contentment. That was why our new life suited her so well. She was a chameleon with a self-imposed dementia.