“Shut up,” I snap against his lips. Duke’s eyes focus for a moment as shock registers on his face. Then he’s descended on me again. I take my frustration out on his mouth as I nip and suck at his soft lips. Slowly, we slide to the damp grass and tangle in one another’s limbs. Every time he grunts or moans, I find myself irrationally ticked off. I try to limit how often I hear his voice by keeping his mouth busy.
His body covers mine, his right hand trails up the outside of my bare thigh. Fingers drag over my jean shorts. My body responds to the attention immediately as I dampen my underwear. I let my head fall back into the grass, arching my back in anticipation. Clenching and unclenching the muscles in my lower stomach, my breath hitches as Duke unbuttons the top of my shorts and then tugs down the zipper in one smooth movement. His thumb circles the top of my pants and then dips below, brushing against my soft curls. My body tenses as his thumb makes contact. Moving in a clockwise motion, he keeps his speed steady. My core pounds with a wanton need, pushing me to the edge. As he slips a single finger inside, I think back to Ryan wrapping his cracked pinky around mine when the tire blew in the van, the ride into Nevada, and even his angry rant. As I dissolve into a thousand little pieces, the only face I can see is the same one that’s been haunting me for the last two months. I bite down on my bottom lip to control the scream as my muscles tighten and I spasm around Duke’s finger.
Barely coming down from my release, Duke moves off of me. His middle finger is pointed up, covered in my juices. He dips it into his mouth and sucks it clean. Looking more sober than he has all night, he adjusts himself in his jeans. I prop myself up on my elbows and stare up at him in confusion. A mixture of shame, embarrassment, and fear overtake me as he gives me a cold look and turns to walk away. The more distance he puts between us, the more painful the rip becomes in my chest. What have I done?
I want to ask him where he’s going, if I did something wrong, and even beg him to come back. I fight the urge to zip up my shorts and chase after him. I have such little experience. I’ve dated, sure. And I’ve fooled around. I’ve had sex. But never have I let some dirt bag finger me in a damp field before. Never have I just been left like this before. And never have I wanted to just disappear this much before. So I don’t chase after him, I don’t even zip up my shorts. I just lay there, in that field, for as long as I can take the encroaching cold. Silent tears stream down the sides of my face as I stay perfectly still, in the same exact position he left me in, feeling like the most pathetic person to ever live.
I drag my zipper up, catching my index finger in the process. It throbs, but I force myself to ignore it as best I can. Just then, the night sky lights up in an explosion color so vibrant it makes me blink away the spots that dot my vision. Fireworks shoot high in the sky, like missiles they wheeze through the air and then burst with pops. I watch them, mesmerized by how lovely bolts of fire and light can be in the near total darkness surrounding me. Lying here, alone with the fireworks, I whisper to myself, “Happy Independence Day.”
Chapter 14
Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.
Benjamin Franklin
TELLING RUBY I wanted to get a job wasn’t the best of ideas, in retrospect. True to her word, she talked to Jim about me helping down at the shop, and he agreed that he could use the help. After what happened with Duke at the party, I thought better of working with them, but it’s not like I can say anything. I should be grateful for the work, but really, I’m too nervous to feel much of anything else right now.
“How should I answer the phone?” I ask, standing behind my new desk, surveying the space. I raise my eyes to meet Jim’s. He’s got his hands on his jean-clad hips as he smiles at me.
“I don’t care,” he says with a shrug. I tilt my head to the side and fold my arms over my chest. This has become a thing between him and me.
“I need specifics, Jim,” I plead. We’ve been over this. My father always had a specific way of doing things. There was nothing in my world he didn’t have an opinion on, and he was never shy about letting me know how he preferred things. Jim, on the other hand, is so laid back it’s frustrating. The only thing he ever cares about is club business. Everything else, he defers to Ruby.
“Okay, how about ‘Forsaken’?”
I twist my mouth up, thinking on that one, and finally decide, “I’ll ask Ruby.”
“She knows more about running this business than I do.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say with a smile. Jim stretches out his arms with a smile and waves me off as he leaves through the front door to the office. As is typical with him, he hasn’t given me any instruction. I have a mountain of paperwork on my desk that I think needs to be sorted. Or filed. It might be a stack of invoices that need to be paid. I don’t even know.