“Isn’t that what it is, though? Over?” I asked, remembering my anger and trying to get up. Preppy held me firmly and all I could do was wriggle around, the muscles of his forearms barely straining under my struggling. “This game. Us. It’s all over.”
Preppy reached under my chin and turned my face toward him. He kissed the corner of my eye, absorbing the tear that had threatened to spill down my face. He pulled back and slammed into me. “No, baby, that’s where you’re wrong. This game isn’t over. It’s only just begun,” he said, delivering another punishing thrust of his thick cock. “Except now, the game is whoever comes first, loses.” He grinned down at me, his smile real, his hair falling into his eyes. “You wanna play with me?”
I arched my back suddenly and his cock slipped out of me. I jumped off the bed. He reached for me and I jerked my arm away. “I can take a lot of things,” I said. “I’ve had my weak moments, but I know who I am and I’m strong as fucking steel when it counts. But what I can’t take is this. Whatever you’re playing at. Whatever reason you told Bear that I could be a club slut. Because we obviously see things differently, so let me explain this to you,” I said, grabbing my clothes and pulling them on. “This isn’t a fucking game.” I pointed between us. “We’re not a fucking game!” I choked out.
“I’m glad that you see it that way. Maybe having two cocks inside you at once fucked some sense into you after all,” Preppy said calmly, standing up and pulling on his jeans.
“What?” I asked, frozen with my hand on the door. I turned around slowly. “What the fuck did you say?”
Preppy ran his hand over his beard and looked to the floor, like he was trying to make a decision. When he looked up at me and his eyes met mine, I knew it had been made. “I’ve been telling you that I can’t keep you, Dre. Why the fuck do you think I was saying that?”
“I don’t know. Because of your past and because of what happened to you and what you do…”
“Maybe that’s part of it. But the other part is the lies I’ve been telling you to get what I want.”
“What lies?” I said, taking a step back, afraid of what he might say.
“Where should I start,” he asked, slowly walking toward me. “Do you want to know what I did to you? That night I brought you to Mirna’s? Do you want to hear how I took off your clothes and I ran my mouth down your body while you were unconscious? Do you want to know that I spread your legs and licked your bruised pussy because I wanted to taste you, your weakness. I wanted to swallow you and devour you, so I shoved my tongue inside of you because I fucking could.”
“No, no you didn’t. You wouldn’t,” I stammered.
He huffed. “Now, I know you don’t believe that,” Preppy said, buttoning his shirt as if it was just another day. His cool emotionless expression plastered back on his face, while I was in a state of shock I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to come back out of.
He shrugged. “I thought about fucking you too, but I settled for jerking off on you instead. I came all over your stomach.”
“Fuck you,” I said, only able to muster up enough of my voice to whisper the insult at him.
“I may have pulled you from that tower, Doc. I may have rescued you from that motel room, but I never saved you. You were never safe.” His phone vibrated and the screen lit up, he looked down and tossed it on the bed that acted as a barrier between us, a bumper for the truth. “Go ahead. Answer it. It’s your dad,” he said, not giving me time to process the new information.
“How?” I asked as the phone stopped vibrating before starting back up again.
“He’s been calling for weeks. He wrote you a letter, too. It’s on top of Mirna’s fridge. Blue photo album. He wants you to come home,” he said.
“When?” I asked.
“Since the very beginning.”
“But why?” I asked, but I didn’t know what I was asking. Why he lied? Why he bothered with me?
Why I let him into my heart?
Every word he spoke was another bullet being fired at me, but he couldn’t hit every target. His eyelids were red and heavy. His voice was raspy, “Why? Because I needed you to make those documents for me.” He paused. “Or maybe just because I like unconscious pussy.”
I leapt onto the bed. “You son of a fucking bitch!”
Preppy moved to the door. “Go the fuck home, Doc. You don’t belong here. You never did.” He didn’t look up when he left, closing the door with such force the cheap plastic blinds fell from the window to the floor.
He’d slammed the door shut on the room.
On us.
On everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
PREPPY
“Where you stomping off to?” Bear asked, catching up to me as I was doing just that, angrily stomping down the shell driveway. He slapped me on the back of my shoulder. “Everything okay back there?” he asked, lighting a cigarette and jerking his chin back toward the garage.
I was about to snap something back at him, my emotions all bubbling at the surface, a place I hated them to be. My mouth hung open, ready to fire off some sarcastic retort that would have Bear seeing right through me, but I stopped myself and shut my mouth when I saw the concern written all over Bear’s burly face. Or maybe it was pity. Fuck, I’d already caused so much hurt for one lifetime, I could’t stand to see him look that way. So I made a decision right then and there. My shit would be exactly that. My shit. I knew Bear and Grace well enough to know that if they knew how deep things ran with Dre, then they would take it on as their own problem. And for fucks sake, our little family had enough fucking problems to add my shit to the fucking pile.
I slapped a smile on my face and reached into Bear’s cut, plucking his cigarettes from his pocket and tossing him back the pack after I’d slid one from the pack and lit it. “All is good, man. Just got a call from Patty who runs the GG operation off Sunset Vista,” I lied. “The mister in the grow-room is leaking. Gotta go dry out her hallway runner and fix the leak before her fucking pacemaker stops. Gotta keep the GG’s happy. Keep growing that money.”
“You sure that’s it?” Bear asked, scratching his head. “I thought that maybe that girl…”
I cut him off. “That was fucking epic, right? Although, I’m not gonna lie, at one point I think I felt your balls on my fucking leg, dude.”
“Preppy…” Bear said, still attempting to carry on some sort of serious conversation about my behavior. Wasn’t gonna happen.
Not then.
Not fucking ever.