Page 14 of Toxic Hope
“Just quit it,” I reply as firmly as I can while still basically plastered to the wall.Stand up straight. At least do that much. It takes all of the strength in my trembling body, but I manage it, planting my feet at shoulder width. “I get it. Wearing a wigis hilarious for some reason. I don’t have any problem with you, okay?”
“I don’t remember asking whether you have a problem with me.” Her eyes dart to the right, then to the left, and I realize too late she is silently signaling her friends to stand on either side of me so I can’t get away.
Because she’s going to hit me. She’s going to hurt me. And there’s no way I can fight back.
It’s like my whole short, sad life flashes before my eyes. It all passes so quickly, in the length of a heartbeat.
And then the door opens and a pair of women who look like they could be professors or administration walk in, pulling up short when they catch sight of us against the opposite wall.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my whole life.
While the girls freeze guiltily, I dart between the girl on my right and Tiana, grabbing my backpack off the counter next to the sink and sliding between the two older women before almost stumbling out into the hallway.
I have to get out of here. I have to get home. At least I can stay in over the weekend. I won’t have to see any of these people. I can pretend life is somewhat normal for a couple of days and maybe even log in from home on Monday.
Maybe I should log in from home every day. That would end all of my problems, wouldn’t it?
It would also be the coward’s way out.
Though it still doesn’t seem like a bad idea when I hear a voice calling out behind me before I can make it out of the building. “We’re not done yet!”
I don’t have to turn around to know who is doing the shouting, and nobody has to tell me who she’s shouting at.
This is all his fault, too. If he never brought this attention on me, nobody would give me a second look. I wouldn’t practicallybe running to the car now, almost counting every footstep, my body threatening to give out on me at any moment.
Damn that son of a bitch. Maybe somebody will end his miserable life this weekend, and I’ll never have to see him again.
8
EASTON
I remember when a party at Carter’s house meant the kind of night that would make one of those ancient Roman orgies look like a game night at the retirement home. When I could see female flesh, everywhere I looked—firm and full, dripping wet from the pool, lying across a lounge chair and just waiting to be touched. Wild nights I’ll never forget.
Good thing, since Carter’s basically an old woman now that he has a girlfriend.
“You would think having your own house would mean you could get even wilder than you did before.” I know I sound like I’m complaining in Kellan’s ear as we set up one of three kegs in the backyard. That’s not going to stop me. “It’s like he’s doing everything backward.”
Kellan doesn’t do much talking, but he does when it matters. He shrugs a shoulder before muttering, “He’s got a girlfriend now. It’s not the same. And Elliana has a say in things, too. She lives here.”
If there’s one thing I’m not in the mood for tonight, it’s having somebody remind me I’m being unreasonable. “It’s selfish,” I decide. “He gets all the pussy he wants, and the rest of us have to be deprived?”
“Since when are you deprived?” Kellan rolls his eyes and chuckles before hitting me with an elbow. “What’s up your ass? Volunteer work suck today?”
“Don’t remind me of it.” Of course it sucked. It’s always going to suck for as long as Dad thinks we deserve to suffer.
“Have a beer.” He taps the first keg, and before long, hands me a red cup topped with suds. “Forget about it for tonight.”
The thing is, I wish playing nice around a bunch of sick people was all I had on my mind tonight.
I feel like everybody’s looking at me. Like they all know. That’s impossible—there’s no way. It was a dream, that’s all. Maybe the most vivid dream I ever had.
So vivid, I woke up with my dick aching and dripping.
And with Emma’s face still fresh in my head. The way she was just before I woke up: on her knees in the elevator, with my hand on the back of her head so I could move her delicious, wet mouth up and down my shaft.
I have no idea where it came from. The closest she has ever come to my cock so far is when her knee hit my balls. The last thing she’d want to do is suck me off.
And maybe that’s where the dream came from. I was in control. Making her do things to me, setting the pace, surging in her mouth when she moaned around me.
