Page 20 of Reckless Rebel

“No, I was right the first time. You don’t deserve to even be around her, let alone be considered her brother. You’re pathetic.”

Her words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. I know she’s right, I should just stay away from her, from all of them. Let them remain the happy, content family they are and don’t bring them down into my pathetic bullshit. Everything I touch turns to fucking dust anyway. I loved Rachel, and I lost her. I didn’t even get a chance to be able to love Taylor, but I still lost her. What’s gonna happen if I let myself love Sofia? Greg Donovan and his sick band of fuckers may be nothing but rotting bones in the ground now, but that doesn’t mean nothing bad is ever going to happen again.

The world is full of evil just waiting to capture and corrupt the pure, and getting close to Sofia will just put her in their path. Rachel is dead. Taylor is dead. Greg is dead. Everyone is fucking dead. I won’t let that happen to someone else I care about. She deserves so much more than I can ever be. I don’t need another sister who I am just going to lose. I need a drink and another fucking pill. To drown in this sea of grief until I am nothing but an empty vessel.

I need to just be nothing.

12

Riley

What went through my head when I thought I could actually get through to him? I’ve heard enough about him in the last week and seen first hand for myself just how the Rebel likes to live his life. He can hardly be considered big brother material. I don’t know what my parents were thinking when they decided to let him into Fia’s life, this has to stop.

I leave him wallowing in his self pity, joining Rick who is still waiting by the door, and dragging him back down to the party. Why am I even here? This isn’t my scene, these people aren’t my friends, and I’d rather be home with my sister than spend another minute here.

“Can we just go?” I ask Rick, and he frowns.

“Riley, don’t let that asshole ruin our night. Come on, come dance with me.” He grins, pulling me to the area of other writhing bodies before I can even respond.

His hands slip to my hips, pulling my body plush against his as he begins grinding us together in time with the music. We never usually do the whole PDA thing, but as I lock eyes with the angry Rebel stomping down the stairs, I find myself closing my eyes and leaning into Rick.

We spend the next hour dancing, kissing, and giving each other teasing little touches until we are both breathless. Rick leans down and whispers, “Wanna take this somewhere more private?”

I think about what Jace was doing in one of the upstairs rooms and figure it’s just what people do, so I muster the confidence to nod. We have never done more than kissing and a little over the top clothing touching, but we have to progress that sometime, right? He pulls back in surprise before a grin overtakes his face and then he is dragging me away from everyone until we find ourselves in a bathroom down the hall. It’s not really where I imagined ever having my first sexual experience with him, but I throw caution to the wind and let Rick lock it behind us.

He kisses me, his tongue practically down my throat as his hands skim down my body. “So fucking perfect, Riley, so good,” he whispers, his voice sounding harsher than usual, and I’m not sure I like it.

I can feel my nerves throughout my entire body as his hands undo the button and zipper on my jeans, and he slips his fingers roughly into my panties. I’m not wet enough, so the first few rubs against me feel harsh, but I close my eyes and try to get into it. This is Rick, he wouldn’t ever hurt me, we have a connection, he’ll always make sure I’m okay. Not like that Rebel asshole. God who does he think he is? Does he have a different girl sucking his cock every night? A cock I definitely did see, all eight inches of it, if I measured in my mind correctly, which I know I did. It was long and thick, and I find myself wondering what it would feel like to put it in my mouth. To straddle him like I saw that girl do the other night, to swirl my hips around as I ride him up and down.

I startle, what the hell? Why am I thinking about Jace? It’s clearly just the shock of what I saw him doing yet again, and what I am now doing with Rick, my mind is just clashing together.

I come back to the moment as Rick groans, “So fucking wet, Riley, that’s it.” To my horror, I realize he’s right, I am wt, soaked in fact, riding his fingers like I do my freaking vibrator, hurtling towards an orgasm.

The shame takes over my body knowing it wasn’t him that got me in this state, this needs to end now. “Stop,” I whisper, but Rick kisses me again, his fingers sliding roughly against my clit in a way that doesn’t get me off, instead it causes panic to flow through me. “Rick, I said stop.” I try to keep my voice steady as his fingers continue their assault.

“Come on, Riley, you’re almost there I can feel it.” He can’t, the moment is gone, tainted by my own thoughts. I don’t want this anymore, not like this.

“Rick.” I grab his arm and he pulls back with a huff.

“What the fuck, Riley? Is this about him?” I frown in confusion even though I know exactly who he is referring to.

“Who? Jace? Of course not. I’m just not feeling it here.” I reply weakly, the lie coming far too easily.

“Well, just you do me then.” He moves to kiss me again, unbuckling his belt, ready for his turn and suddenly the thought of going any further panics me.

“Not here,” my voice shakes. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“So you’re just gonna leave me like this?” He pushes his erection into my leg and I cringe slightly at where we have found ourselves.

“I need a drink,” I say in desperation, pushing him away slightly, but not before I see the flash of anger on his face. Before he can say anything though there is a loud bang on the door and I feel relieved. That relief lasts for approximately five seconds, because when I open the door I come face to face with my last fantasy.

Jace frowns, clearly drunk, before he takes in my no doubt flushed cheeks and sweaty head, and Rick fastening his jeans behind me.

He throws his head back, laughing loudly and obnoxiously, before looking at me with a smug smile. “Looks like I’m not the only whore around here, huh, Riles?”

The word whore practically slaps me in the face, I have never been called that before, ever, and especially not to my face. I feel tears sting at the back of my eyes and I don’t know why. It’s not like I care what he thinks. I stare at him, refusing to look away, and it’s then I recognize the glossy, vacant look in his eyes. He’s high.

“What the hell are you on?” I accuse, being brought up by my mom and dad means it’s easy for me to spot the signs.

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