Darien
SHE’S BROKEN, I repeat silently as I punch the damn punching bag. My Alana is broken from losing Cole and her ex cheating on her. Guilt eats at me like a disease because I can’t help her.
“Again,” Linear says. I apologize to him for the way I acted the day I saw his hands on Alana’s back. Turns out he has a girlfriend. I don’t have to worry about him trying to stick his dick in Alana. He has been training me for the last few weeks. Need to let out some steam because I have been holding back on fucking Alana. Don’t want her to use me to deal with her pain of her ex-husband.
“You’re off your game today,” Linear says. “You want to talk ’bout it?”
“Do I look like the type to share my feelings like a chick?” I ask, wiping sweat from my forehead.
Mia has been calling me back to back, sending me a text saying that Luke is locked up. Well, duh. I couldn’t get him to get her to sign those papers, so I turned his sorry ass in to the Feds. So much on my fucking plate. Just want to let out some steam. I always wanted to start a family and Alana lost hers. Linear continues to hold the bag as I pound on it.
“You hit like a little bitch,” he says.
“Keep talking shit, and I’m gonna pound your face next,” I say.
Alana was right about one thing—she is consumed with darkness. She’s Eurydice, and I’m Orpheus, and no matter how I try to save her from a broken heart, it will never work, and our love story will end up being tragic.
“What if your dad doesn’t like me?” Alana says as she removes lint from my jacket. We stand in front of the red door waiting for my dad to answer.
“He already does. Trust me.”
“Okay.” She exhales and bites her pinky nail.
Several moments later, Jade opens the door, and her son greets us. “What’d you get me?” the kid with bright blue eyes says. His eyes grow wide at Alana.
“Nothing,” I answer. He guards the door like he lives here.
“Are you Mr. Casey’s girlfriend?”
She bends downs at eye level with him and says, “Yes.”
“I have better hair than Mr. Casey. You want to feel?” His cheeks turn red.
She runs her hands through his short, silky hair and a big wide smile meets his eyes.
“You want to break up with Mr. Casey and be my girlfriend?”
“Andrew!” Jade pipes in. “Go help Mr. Adam pick out the next holiday movie.” She shoos him.
“I’m sorry about that,” Jade says. I shrug off my coat and place it on the rack in front of the mirror in the hallway. I grab Alana’s hand as we make our way to the open-plan kitchen. My father had the place remodeled after my stepmom passed away. There is a stainless steel gas stove and a black fridge with chestnut counters and cabinets. My dad cuts onions and dumps them in a white bowl. He turns his view to us and says, “Darien and Alana, nice seeing you again.”
“It’s nice seeing you too, sir,” Alana says.
I hug my dad, roll up my sleeves and say, “You need any help?”
He shakes his head. “Go to the living room and make yourselves at home, dinner is almost ready.”
I grab Alana’s hand and show her to the den. She looks at the pictures that decorate the entertainment center. Andrew slouches on the couch with an iPad in his hand.
“Who is this?” Alana picks up a picture of my dad and Cydney, celebrating one of their anniversaries in Spain. In the picture, my father has his arms around her waist and they were at a beach.
“My stepmom. She died last year in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Her words are genuine, not artificial, like others, when they don’t know what to say. She set the picture back down on the entertainment center.
“Is that how your dad . . .” She trails off, and I nod.
“They were on their way home, and they got hit by a drunk driver. My stepmom was killed on impact.”
“I’m sorry, Darien.” She holds my hand and squeezes tight.
“I’m fine. My stepmom was good to me.”
“Dinner is ready,” Jade calls out.
We all sit at the dinner table, stuff our faces with Thanksgiving food, and Andrew sits next to Alana, flirting with her. I swear he is a ladies’ man at the age of five. Jade needs to watch out for him when he gets in high school—he is gonna have a lot of girlfriends.
After dinner, I show her my old bedroom before I went off to college. She lies on the king-size bed and old Michael Jackson posters hang on the wall. The white paint peels on the wall. “What happened to your mom?” she asks, patting the spot next to her. I sit next to her and think about fucking her on it. I lie down, pulling her into my arms, and we fall back on the flimsy mattress.
Exhaling, I say, “My father divorced her when I was one year old. My mom was a junkie.”
She looks at me with sad eyes.
“Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not.” She makes circles on my chest and says, “Is your mom still alive?”
“Dunno, I don’t care to find out.”
She’s dead to me. If she ever tries to come back into my life, I will tell her to fuck off. “My father raised me as a single parent up until I was twelve and that’s when he met my stepmother. She was a sweet woman to me. She treated me like her own. In my book, she is my real mom.”
Several seconds later, Alana giggles and she sits up, propping her hand under her head.
“What, sweetheart?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought you were a snob when I first met you.”
“Really?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I thought you were out of my league too.”
I sit up and pat between my legs, and she snuggles between them.
“What do you think about me now?”
“Cocky. Arrogant. Sexy. And . . .” She taps her red nails on her chin. “Caring and loving. You make me happy.”
Warmth surges through my chest. I angle her chin and my lips meet her soft glossy lips. This girl not only owns my dick, she also owns my heart.
Three weeks pass and Alana spends most nights at my place even when she works at the strip joint. Sometimes, when she comes to my place, I’m already asleep. She gets off around three in the morning and we barely have time to see each other, since I work sixty hours a week and she works two jobs. I want to tell her to quit the strip joint so we can have more time together, because I won’t be able to cut back my hours from work, since I bought out American Banking. Don’t know what she is going to do when she starts school.
It’s Christmas Day. My dad is in the hospital—he caught pneumonia. I pace the black and white tile. Jade said he was having a hard time breathing, so she brought him to the ER. Alana sits in the chair next to him and watches Bob’s Burgers. I’m grateful that she is here supporting me in my time of need. The humming noise from the machine is pissing me off and the cold air blows from the A/C, which I don’t understand since it’s cold outside.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I whip it out and it’s an unknown number. I step out of the room and slide my finger across the glass screen.
“Hello?” I snap.
“Darien, baby, it’s me. We are meeting with our lawyers on Thursday,” Mia says.
Did she just call me “baby”? Like we are together? She needs to calm down with the pet names.
“I already knew that. Why the fuck are you calling me?” I ask. The nurses in their blue scrubs at the station frown at me. Tempted to flip them the bird, I turn on the ball of my foot and walk to the snack machine, grab a dollar from my back pocket, stick it in the machine and press a button. It makes a weird sound, and the honey bun falls, and I grab it from the dispenser.
“I need money.”
“I gave you the condo back. What else do you need?” I say, between bites.
“For food and stuff. My last check from my modeling gig didn’t pay enough. I’ve been clean, I swear.” I hear a television in the background.
“Good for you.” I hit the red button and finish eating the honey bun. It’s the closest snack I’ll get to eat that is healthy. Why do hospitals offer junk food in the vending machines if the doctors want you to eat healthy? I toss the wrapper in the trash can.
If she thinks I’m going to fall for her bullshit, she better think again. Not about to fall for her lies again.
“Who was that?” Alana says, folding her arms across her chest.
“Lisa. She wanted to know about the holiday party,” I lie.
“Is she the one who keeps calling you in the middle of the night?” She frowns. I don’t respond. She steps up to me, tilting her chin to glare at me. “You disappear to take calls, and you have a lock on your phone. Is there something I should know?”
She casts her eyes down to the tiles. I stare at her for a few minutes, debating if I should tell her about Mia. She needs to know, but not right now. The truth is—I’m worried that if I tell her, she’s not going to be with me, but the more I keep this lie going the more I dig myself into a deeper hole. Alana deserves honesty and the truth.
When I don’t respond, she turns on her heel and walks towards the room. Sighing, I grab her by the arm and she turns back around. The nurses at the station watch us closely, and one of them tells us to keep it down. I rub the back of my neck.
“I’m not cheating on you, Red.” I rub her cheek, and she flinches. “I promise.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my gray sweatpants. “Do you trust me?”
“I’m starting to,” she says, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
I tilt her chin so her beautiful eyes meet mine. “I would never cheat on you,” I say.
An older nurse with white hair walks into the room, and we both follow her. Don’t know if Alana believes me, but I need to tell her about Mia soon.
“Dr. Lin is going to discharge Mr. Adam,” she says, before disappearing out of the room.
We sit with Dad for a few hours, and the hospital releases him to go home.
Back at my condo, I lay my dad in bed and bring the covers to his neck. He is out like a light. I call Jade and give her the update, and she says she will be over first thing in the morning. When he is feeling better, I’ll take him home.
I go to my room. Alana pulls one of my big cotton shirts over her body. Grabbing her by the ass, I throw her small body on the bed like a rag doll. She giggles. Haven’t been inside her in over a month and I’m dying to bury myself between her legs. Pushing her legs apart, I slide between them and my dick throbs against her.
“You finally giving in on your stupid rule?” she whispers. Man, I want her to take me in her mouth.
“I’m fucking you without a condom.”
“No.”
“Yes. I want to feel you raw,” I growl, pulling her panties down and cupping her pussy. I feel the heat radiating from her and blood rushes to my dick, making it hurt more. She breathes rapidly as she rubs her stomach. “Sweetheart, relax.”
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“You’ve been taking your birth control, right?” I pull down my sweats and toss them to the polished wooden floor. I remove my boxers, fisting my dick and stroking it.
“Yeah.” She spreads her legs wide, giving me a view of her pink flesh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll pull out before I come.” I position the tip at her entrance and push my dick inside and her tight little pussy grips my dick. She inhales deep breaths as she adjusts to my size. I forgot how great it feels without using a condom. If I move, I might come, so I wait a few seconds then pump inside of her. She moans, and my name sounds good on those pretty pouty lips. Love what I do to her.
“Move in with me,” I growl.
“W-what?” She wraps her legs around me and digs her nails into my back.
“Move”—thrust—“in”—thrust—“with”—thrust—“me.”
“No!” She pulses and her pussy tightens around my dick like a vise. Shit feels beyond awesome around my dick. Her come leaks on my balls.
“You will, Alana. I’m not taking no for an answer.” I slide my hands under her shirt, grabbing her tits as I fuck her. My balls tighten and I feel my dick build, so I pull out and come on her stomach.
“Yuck,” she mumbles, pulling her shirt off and wiping the come off her stomach and tossing the shirt to the floor. My dick is coated with her come, so I don’t even bother to wash myself, just grab my boxers from the floor and slide them on. If I could, I would bottle up her scent and carry it with me everywhere I go.
“Don’t you think we are moving too fast?” she asks. I shake my head and go to a drawer and pull out a joint, pop it in my mouth and light it. I blow smoke from the side of my mouth. “I’ll make you a deal, if we keep having sex I need to have a drawer here.” She wraps her hands around my waist and squeezes tight.
“Deal,” I say, putting the bud out in the ashtray. “Before we go any further, I have to confess something,” I say, and push her hair back. Well, I hope what I’m about to say doesn’t end our relationship. “I’m married.”