Page 6 of High for the Haunted (Rejected 4)

Chapter Five

Ricki

“Dude, that’s sick! How the hell did she learn that?” a guy around my age that I’ve seen around the skatepark asks. Landon stands by the rail at the top of the ramp and rolls his eyes as the guy talks. I have to hold in the snort as I take another round, do a few more tricks, and then jump back up the ramp and stand by Landon on the halfpipe just as I hear, “she’s hot as fuck.”

Landon’s hand shoots out and pushes the guy off the ramp. I look down, making sure he didn’t break his neck, but he’s fine, staring dreamily up at the top of the ramp where I’m standing. I turn my angry glare toward Landon.

“If you get me kicked out of here again, I’ll never forgive you,” I warn, because the last time he did this, I was banned for a whole summer. I mean, the guy deserved the busted lip and broken nose. He thought it would be funny to cut me off just as I was trying out my new Caballerial trick. I’d almost broken my wrist, and the guy had laughed. That’s when Landon attacked him by breaking the guy’s board in half across his big ass head and pummeling the guy.

“He deserved it, and you know it,” he tells me grumpily while crossing his arms, still staring down at the guy he just pushed.

“Come on, let’s go home before you get us into trouble,” I say, rolling my eyes and trying not to smile.

“Did you want to ride around some more or just grab some food?” Landon asks, taking my board in one hand and his other free hand intertwining our fingers together while dragging us over to my bike.

“Let’s just grab some burgers and fries from the diner, then head home and watch a movie. My ankle is starting to swell a bit,” I tell him, wincing as it gives a sharp sting that goes up to my knee.

I hear Landon growl and I roll my eyes, knowing he’s pissed at how I got the old injury. I had come home too late after hanging with the guys and skating around the trailer park. My father told me I should stop being such a slut before I got knocked up by one of the boys I liked to “fuck around with.” He also told me a girl shouldn’t be riding around on a stupid fucking skateboard and to get a bike like any normal girl would. He told me I was too much of a dike because I would rather dress in Landon’s old t-shirts and baggy jeans than dresses and skirts.

He had beat the shit out of me and told me if I wanted to dress and act like a boy, he wouldn’t hold back his fist like he would for a little girl. He slammed his foot down on my ankle and broke it before leaving me there to crawl out onto my porch, trying to get to Landon’s house. I didn’t make it, and Landon found me there the next morning passed out. My ankle never healed right, so sometimes when I use it too much or the weather is bad, it makes me limp a bit. It’s barely noticeable, but of course, Landon can tell.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the house. I’ll even let you pick out the movie,” he says, rolling his eyes, already knowing what I’m going to pick. I open my mouth, and both of us say it at the same time.

“Die Hard,” I squeal while he sighs. It used to be his favorite, too, until I wore it out, but we had an unspoken rule. I didn’t make him watch Practical Magic with me for the millionth time, but he had to watch Die Hard any time I wanted.

We rode by the diner, picked up some food, and then before too long, we were pulling into the trailer park. I noticed my dad’s old beat-up ford in the driveway of our trailer, but he wasn’t outside. He was probably either tearing down the house from the inside out, wondering where I was and why he couldn’t take his anger out on me, or he was passed out on the couch with the bottle of tequila still in his hands. Joey reaches back and squeezes my leg before continuing to his house.

“Stop, I can tell by your face you’re wondering if it would just be easier to go back, find out as much as you can about your mom. He won’t give you any more than he already has, Ricki. He needs control over you, and that’s the only leverage he has,” Landon tells me, cupping my face and helping me off his bike, grabbing my board on the way.

“I know you’re right, and there is no part of me that wants anything to do with him but…” I start but stop again when the words don’t come out.

“You wish for someone who loves you. A parent who actually gives a shit,” he says softly, and I see the same longing and haunted look in his eyes. Even though we have known each other most of our lives, I’ve never seen so much of my own feelings reflecting in Landon’s eyes. Dodging beatings night and day from my father almost made me miss what was right in front of my face all along. Landon.

Landon, who has always been by my side and who I’ve loved for as long as I can remember. Landon, who would dry my tears, make me laugh, and always make me feel safe. My Landon, who I cannot imagine my life without; who owns my heart. Landon, who is the other half of my soul. He’s always wished for the same things I have; love and a family.

“Weird and too soon of a question,” I ask, needing to know the answer to this more than anything in life.

“I’m pretty sure you know everything there is about me, but go ahead,” Landon says, smiling back at me as he walks through his front door and back to his bedroom. He doesn’t stop, just keeps walking down the hall, pulling me onto the bed, taking off my shoes, and propping up my bad ankle. He hands me my vape and starts pulling the food out of the bag and handing it to me.

“Do you want kids one day?” I ask in a whisper, scared of his answer. He pauses, looking down at my feet and not meeting my eye.

“Honestly, I’ve always wanted a big family… with you,” he says, finally looking up at me.

“Really?” I ask in surprise.

“Ricki, my eyes have only ever been on you. I knew one day, if I got my wish, I would drag your ass so far away from this town, knock you up, so everyone knows you’re mine and live happily ever after,” he says, shrugging like he didn’t just knock me on my ass.

“I’ve always wanted a big family and huge house full of kids, but I only ever wanted that with you, too,” I whisper back. I never thought it was possible. I thought he would leave town without me and never look back. I should have known better.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, however many kids you want, but I will be the only one you ever let between your legs. You will be the only one with my heart and balls in your little stoner hands,” Landon says, trying to lighten the mood but still showing me how serious he is.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” I tell him, leaning up and giving him a soft kiss that immediately becomes more.

The next thing I know, I’m laying completely naked on his bed while Landon comes down on top of me, kissing my mouth, then my cheek, down my neck, and to my breasts, where he sucks my nipple into his mouth and flicks the ring there with his tongue.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. When did you get these done?” he asks, once again flicking my nipple ring before doing the same to the other.

“When I was sixteen,” I tell him, deciding to leave out the fact that it was either the piercings or me taking a different kind of pointy object to my skin. I never wanted to be a cutter, but sometimes there didn’t seem like any other release. It was the only thing I had control of. I only managed that a couple of times before I found piercings did the trick and were even better. I felt bold, beautiful, and best of all, in control of my own body.

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