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Chapter no 17

Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas

 

Malcolm drives the beat with the fill, the kick drum thudding beneath my feet, while Dane smoothly handles the transition. I keep the rhythm on the guitar, with Lotus supporting in the background.

As I belt out the lyrics, a rush of exhilaration washes over me and I close my eyes.

Bookmark it, says the cheerleader

I promise we’ll return to this place.

I have things to handle first. You won’t have to wait long.

I can’t make her stay, and I can’t watch her leave.

I’ll hold onto her fiery heart,

And bookmark it before it turns cold.

Malcolm is razor, keeping the energy up, and sweat glides down my back as I savor the rush of playing again. Sticks, a favorite Thunder Bay hangout, has been closed for renovations for over a month, but the owners

are still great about letting us use the space when we need to practice without an audience.

Dane’s guitar whines as he cuts off the note and stops playing. “Alright, stop, stop, stop!” he interrupts. “I think we should break it up at the point, add a riff.” He points to Malcolm at the drums. “You back me up with something creative, before we dive back in with vocals.”

“Keep it high-energy,” I say.

But he just sneers at me, like duh. “Yeah, I know what you like.” “Alright, count it off,” Lotus calls out, but I hold up my hand, pulling

the guitar strap over my head. “I need a drink.”

I step off the stage and walk to one of the tables, taking a swig out of the water bottle.

A girl stands behind the bar—one of the owner’s daughters, I think— her chin resting on her hand as she looks at me. She’s about my age. Maybe a year younger.

She looks like Annie. Blonde hair, pert nose, slender shoulders… Annie never listened to me play, though. She wasn’t unsupportive. She was just too busy to take an interest. Of course, I could say the same thing about myself and her hobbies. The only reason I attended as many girls’ volleyball games as I did was because she asked me to be there. She needed people to be proud of her, and I knew why.

The girl smiles at me, and I smile back and then quickly look away. There was a time when she might’ve been my type. Cute, soft, sweet.

But just the memory of Ryen’s nervous breath across my lips before she kissed me that first time in the truck has my body stirring. She’s a complicated, temperamental little mess, but she gets me going.

I pick up my phone and check to see if I have any messages. I’m hoping for anything. A rant. Insults. A bitchy text, telling me to fuck off.

But nothing. I know I should leave her alone and give her space. There are just so many things yet to say, so much she doesn’t know, and I need to tell her before she pushes me away for good.

Maybe she’ll meet me. Tomorrow at my house, and I can tell her everything. I don’t want to ambush her, but maybe she’ll give me a chance if I open myself up and lay everything on the line.

Clicking my Facebook app, I type in her name and go to her profile, deciding I’ll just send her a message and leave the ball in her court. I have to try. If she doesn’t go for it, then I’ll wait for as long as I need to.

But when her profile pops up, I see a video she’s tagged in, and I hesitate. Without giving myself time to think, I click on it, noticing it was only posted a few minutes ago.

Ryen is standing by a pool, surrounded by people drinking and dancing, with one of her thighs turned out as some guy kneels between her legs.

What the fuck?

I watch as he dives in, licking a long stroke up the inside of her thigh, as she breaks into laughter and everyone cheers.

The asshole has his back to the camera, tips back a shot as the crowd eggs him on, and Ryen laughs, sticking a lemon wedge in her mouth and inviting him in to suck it from her.

The music is blaring, and Ryen wraps her arms around him, their mouths touching before she breaks away and starts shaking her body to the music.

“Son of a bitch.” I squeeze the phone in my hand, scrolling the comments to see the party is at Trey’s house. She’s at his house?

And people are sharing this video of some guy licking her, too.

“What’s up?” Dane asks.

I grab my keys off the table and stuff the cell in my pocket. How the fuck is she at a party at that asshole’s house, and who the hell is she screwing off with?

“Let’s go,” I bark at the guys. “Where?”

“I’ll explain in the truck.”

I head through the pool hall, hearing them put their instruments down and run after me. Once outside, I hop in the cab. Dane climbs in the passenger side, and Lotus and Malcolm jump in the bed behind us.

Firing up the engine, I speed away from Sticks and hop onto the highway. I lay on the gas, determined to make the thirty-mile drive in ten minutes. Is she actually drinking at his house? She has to know how stupid that is.

She wants to party? Fine. She wants some space? Okay. But going anywhere near that asshole or being entertainment for some horny little shit who wants to touch her is pushing me too far. Ryen doesn’t do fucking body shots. She’s trying to piss me off, and it’s working.

And I think of Annie and what she did to herself, because she wasn’t thinking straight, either.

By the time we make it to Trey Burrowes’ house, I’m more worked up than I’ve ever been, but I know if I go in there half-cocked, she’ll just fight back, and I’ll walk out of there without her.

We climb out of the truck, and I can feel the vibrations of the music out to the street. “Bad Girlfriend” plays, and I glance around, seeing the houses all a good distance away from each other, but some of them have to be able to hear this noise. I’m tempted to call the cops myself, if they haven’t been

called already, just to break it up and send Ryen home. But no. I’ll let her choose.

As we walk into the house, a group of girls runs past us to the stairs, laughing and falling into the wall as they stumble up the steps.

“Nice,” Lotus laughs, making like he’s going to follow them.

But I grab his black ponytail and pull him back. We’re not here for that. “Hey, man.” J.D. comes up, shaking my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.

You going to set off some fireworks?”

I laugh to myself, knowing he knows I would rather swallow needles than be in this house. “I wasn’t planning on it. Have you seen Ryen?”

He shakes his head. “Not in the last fifteen minutes.” And then he narrows his eyes on me. “You going to tell me what’s going on between you two?”

“No.”

He snorts. “Okay.” And then he moves around me toward the family room. “I’ll be close. If you need me.”

I nod and look back at the party, scanning the crowd as we step down into the living room.

“Well, well, well,” Trey says, stepping through the crowd and approaching me. “What the fuck do we have here?”

He’s flanked by a couple of his friends, and I steel my spine, keeping my expression hard as I stare at him.

“You want trouble?” he says. “We can give you trouble.”

I feel my bandmates inch in closer, and Trey’s eyes flash to them as if finally realizing I’m not alone.

“Not in my parents’ house, though,” he clarifies, suddenly nervous.

Enough. “Where’s Ryen?” I demand.

He laughs. “Have you checked in one of the rooms upstairs? Little cock tease had some liquor tonight, so she might finally be giving up that pussy. I can’t wait for my turn.”

I lunge out and grab him by the collar of his T-shirt, both of our crews moving in.

But I catch sight of something to my left, and I look down, seeing a cuff wrapped around Trey’s wrist.

And on the cuff, secured by two straps, is an antique Jaeger-LeCoultre timepiece.

My heart pounds in my ears. “Where the hell did you get that watch?”

His eyebrows dig in, and I shake him, feeling a thick swell of bile rise in my throat. He didn’t get it from her. She wouldn’t have given it to him. No.

“Misha!” someone calls. But I ignore them. All I see is Trey.

“Misha?” someone murmurs. “Who’s Misha?”

The music is still going, but I stare at him, feeling more people start to crowd around us.

I push him away, releasing him as I tighten my fists. She gave it to him? “Leave,” Ryen orders, appearing at my side.

I jerk my eyes to her and stare down, hovering. “Don’t talk and don’t move,” I bite out, taking in her tits, plain as day in her bikini top and off- the-shoulder shirt that hangs on her like a shredded piece of fucking Kleenex. “You’re all over Facebook, shaking your ass and doing body shots. I’m not happy.”

Her eyes go wide, shock and anger flaring. “Excuse me?” she yells as a couple of girls giggle.

But I turn back around, advancing on Trey. “Where the fuck did you get that watch?”

“What’s your problem?” he snarls. “Go fuck yourself!”

I rear back and punch him across the face, knocking him to the ground. The whole place erupts as his friends and my friends go for each other and partygoers scream and jump out of the way. I dive down and dig my keys out of my pocket, unsheathing the knife on my key chain and leaning over Trey. Everyone above me goes crazy, and I grab Trey’s wrist as he winces from the pain in his face.

“Get off me!” He tries to yank his arm away from me.

But I slide the dull knife between the watch strap and his wrist and pull hard, slicing it off his arm.

“Misha!” I hear Ryen call, and I stand up as everyone stumbles around

me.

“Everyone stop now!” a deep male voice bellows from behind. “Turn

off the music!”

I look behind me, seeing two cops in black uniforms enter the house, one of them holding his hands around his mouth and shouting.

Shit. I guess someone did report the noise. The whole crowd scurries, running out the sliding glass doors or into the kitchen, where there’s probably a back door.

I shove the watch and key chain at Dane. “Take my truck. Get the guys and go!”

He grabs the stuff from me and alerts Lotus and Malcolm as the two cops busy themselves, trying to stop kids from leaving. My friends dive out the back and disappear, while I stand still, looking over and seeing Ryen, surprised she’s still here.

Her cheeks are flushed, but her eyes are steady on me. She doesn’t look drunk.

Why did I let Trey bait me like that? Ryen wouldn’t do something as reckless as get wasted and follow someone upstairs. I was just looking for a reason to hit him.

And then I look at the guy standing behind her and notice that it’s Ten. It takes a moment, but I finally make the connection. Blond hair, blue shirt… He’s the guy from the video.

Dammit. So I charged over here to beat up a guy who’s probably more attracted to me than Ryen. Great.

“Hey!” Trey shouts, standing up. “He stole my watch!”

I stay rooted in place, but I take out my phone and shoot a text to Dane that I’ll probably be arrested. He’ll know what to do.

The music cuts off, and a cop comes around, standing between Trey and

me.

“What are you doing here, son?” he asks me. “Just partying.”

“He has my watch,” Trey grits out.

But I just shrug. “Search me. I don’t have anything.”

Trey comes in close, invading my space and glaring at me, but the cop

pushes him back. “You’re in enough trouble,” he tells him. “Stand back.” But Trey is a wall. He doesn’t come closer, but he stays rooted.

“He wasn’t invited, he started a fight, and he stole my watch,” he says again.

My lips lift in a small smile.

The cop looks to me. “What’s your name?” “I don’t know.”

“Where do you live?”

“I forget,” I answer, still staring at Trey.

I hear the cop breathing hard, turning angry. I don’t want to be difficult, but Dickwad can’t know who I am. I don’t want Misha Lare on the radar in this town. Not yet.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he orders.

I do as I’m told, and he moves around to put handcuffs on me. “Wait, no!” Ryen argues.

But I look at her, softening my expression. “It’s fine. Don’t say anything.”

Don’t tell them who I am.

“Alright, I’m taking this one in,” the officer tells the other cop who’s busy on his walkie talkie. “Clear this out, and call Mr. and Mrs. Burrowes.”

The other officer nods and gets back on his radio.

The cop leads me out of the house, and I look at Ryen. There’s a million things I want to say.

I’m done here. I’m going home.

I’ll be anything you want, even gone if that’s what you need. I love you.

 

 

But I just shoot my eyes up to Ten and tell him, “Make sure she gets home safe.”

An hour later I’m sitting in the police station, no longer handcuffed. I lean back in one of the chairs against the wall, my legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, and my arms folded over my chest. A female cop is talking on the phone behind the counter, and I tap my finger under my arm, playing the tune we were working on at Sticks tonight in my head.

At least I got the watch back. I got both of what I came here for, so I should be happy.

Unfortunately, though, those things that seemed so important three weeks ago seem kind of trivial now.

“Why did he have your watch?” I hear someone ask.

I jerk, startled, and look up. Ryen leans on the corner next to my chair, probably having just come down the hallway from the entrance.

“That was the watch you were looking for, right?” she presses. “How did you get here?” I sit up. “You didn’t drive, did you?”

“I’m sober,” she answers. “Now answer the question. What are you doing? What’s going on?”

I face forward again, leaning back in my chair.

I know I need to stop dodging, and I have no reason not to tell her, but where do I start? I want her to understand, but I also want to know if we can make it back to where we were in our letters and to where we were when I was Masen. I want to get there without her pity.

“You want me to trust you,” she points out, “but you’re still keeping things from me.”

I turn to her, opening my mouth to speak, but just then, three guys come down the hallway and enter the station, stopping when they see me.

I move to stand up, but my cousin pushes me back down.

“I’m sorry, man,” I rush out, hating that he had to come all the way down here.

But Will just smiles at me. “Getting arrested is a Thunder Bay boy’s rite of passage,” he jokes, beaming with pride.

I roll my eyes. Will’s two friends, Michael Crist and Kai Mori, stand behind him, looking amused.

I guess they would know. A few years ago, they reigned over my hometown when they were high school basketball heroes, and they haven’t left the limelight since. Simply exchanging notoriety for infamy.

Will crosses his arms over his chest, giving me a condescending look. “You should’ve been able to get out of this yourself, you know?” he chastises. “Watch and learn.”

He turns around, all three of them heading to the counter, no doubt with their best smiles on their faces.

Ryen shifts to my left, but we both remain quiet.

“Hi, I’m William Grayson, III,” Will says to the female cop. “Officer Webber, is it?” She darts her eyes between him and the other two, looking on guard.

“My grandfather is Senator Grayson,” he tells her, “and I really hope he’s your favorite person on the planet. He’s always supported police officers.”

I laugh to myself at his smooth voice, which is probably working on her. Kai leans on the counter, quiet but with a small smile on his face, while Michael, the lead point guard for the Meridian City Storm basketball team, stands tall and intimidating.

He reaches out a hand. “And I’m Michael Crist.”

“Oh, yes.” She smiles wide. “My husband is a huge fan.” “Just your husband?” he teases.

A blush crosses her cheeks, and I want to puke.

She then shakes Will’s and Kai’s hands, exhaling a long breath, her demeanor suddenly happy and relaxed. “Well, what can I do for you gentlemen?”

Will leans on the counter, getting intimate. “Misha Lare Grayson is also the grandson of Senator Grayson, and our grandfather would consider it a

personal favor to him if you would allow the family to deal with Misha.”

I can feel Ryen tense next to me, and I wince. Shit. Yeah, I forgot about not having told her that particular detail, too.

Will goes on, turning his head toward me, and the cop follows his gaze. “He’s kind of the black sheep—I’m sure you can tell,” he explains to her, as her eyes skim down my tattooed arms. “We’ll take him back to Thunder Bay, and he will not return to Falcon’s Well. You have our word. We’ll escort the little shit home right now.”

I grind my teeth together. Will’s eyes twinkle with laughter.

The cop regards me. “Well, the other young man is claiming he stole a watch,” she explains, “however, he doesn’t have it on him, and we have no witnesses. We were going to let him go anyway, but he won’t tell us where he lives or his parents’ names.”

Will nods, straightening back up. “Trust us. We’ll take him home.”

She looks around at the three of them, seeing their perfect black suits, clean fingers, and not a tattoo in sight, so of course they’re upstanding gentlemen. “Alright,” she finally concedes. “Take him home, and keep him out of trouble.”

They shake her hand and walk away from the counter, looking smug as they head over to me.

I shoot out of the chair and stand in front of Will, staring him eye to eye and trying to keep my voice low. “I’m the black sheep?” I challenge. “I’m the black sheep? Did I just spend two and a half years in prison? How could she not know who you were? Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and show her your tattoos?”

Will adjusts his collar and cuffs, primping himself. “I told you, never let anyone see all your cards. Didn’t I say that? I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They have no idea what I’m capable of until it’s too late.”

His friend, Kai, quietly laughs at his side.

“I told you not to get a tattoo on your neck,” Will scolds. “Didn’t I say that? Did you see how we worked her? You should’ve been able to get yourself out of that if you had any sense.”

“It’s not on my neck,” I argue back. “It’s just like,” I gesture to my neck, “up a little and…”

“Hi.” I hear a calm, deep voice and look over to see Kai staring at Ryen.

Michael follows suit and moves close to her. “So this is the one who was at a party, without you, doing body shots, huh?”

She scowls, and I retort, “Dane needs to shut his mouth.”

But Michael just smirks down at Ryen. “If that was my girl, her ass would be red for a week.”

“Yeah, I don’t physically threaten my girl, okay?” “And look where she was.”

Will pushes Michael back. “Don’t listen to him,” he soothes Ryen. “He doesn’t lay a hand on his girl. She has swords.”

Kai laughs quietly off to the side, but Ryen’s face is twisted in disgust.

She looks to me. “Who are these pigs?”

I walk for the front door, knowing everyone will follow. “Will’s my cousin. These are his friends. I called him so I wouldn’t have to call my dad.”

“And how’s my baby?” Will calls from behind, referring to his truck. He lent it to me when he got arrested a few years ago. I had it the whole time he was on the inside, but since he’s been out, he hasn’t come looking for it, so I hoped he forgot about it.

“I hope you don’t want it back,” I tell him. “I have some good memories in that truck.”

I shoot a look over to Ryen, seeing a blush cross her cheeks.

“Yeah, me, too,” Will answers. “I guess I can let you hang onto it for a little while longer.”

Ryen stares ahead, her jaw flexing. “I’m out of here.”

She pushes through the doors, but I call after her. “No. I need to talk to you!”

But she powers toward her Jeep, which is parked on the side of a building at the left of the parking lot. I run after her, forgetting Will and his friends.

“Stop!” I take her arms and pull her to a halt next to the passenger side of her car. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I fucked up? I know I did. I’m sorry.”

I’m sick of her defiance and how she won’t give me an inch. Just say you miss me.

I take her face in my hands. “Look at me.”

But she pushes my hands down. “I hate you. Let me go.”

“Why?” I lash out. “So you can go back to that party? Back to your prom date? You gonna fuck him, too?”

“Maybe!” she yells. “Maybe I’ll sink as low as you, and we’ll have something more in common. Maybe I won’t hate you so much.”

I bare my teeth, staring at her. “You don’t hate me. You love me, and I love you.”

She slaps me so hard my head whips to the side and the burn spreads across my skin. “Don’t say that,” she growls low. “I want Masen. He doesn’t love me. He’s just good to me.” Her tone taunts, turning breathy and sultry. “Really good.”

I don’t miss her meaning. I was a fuck and nothing more. She liked me when I was just that. When I wasn’t Misha.

“Yeah?” I turn my eyes back on her, playing along. “Is that what you want?” I come in, grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. “Your dirty little secret who will fuck you in the back of a truck, hiding you so your stuck-up, shallow friends don’t know how good I give it to you?”

Her breathing hitches, and she only hesitates a moment before her hands come up and grip my shoulders. I dive down, kissing her neck and reveling when she bends it back, opening for me.

But then I see something out of the corner of my eye and look up, realizing the guys are still here.

Michael and Kai are in the front seat of an SUV, Michael leaning far forward from the driver’s side to watch out of Kai’s window, while Will is paused at his open back door, looking amused.

“Seriously?” I snap.

Michael and Kai quickly turn away, and Will clears his throat.

“Alright, we’re out.” He climbs into the car. “Stay out of trouble, and wrap it up. Hell hath no fury like Grandpa Grayson dealing with a teen pregnancy.”

Ryen’s nails dig into my skin, and I close my eyes, coming up and slamming my mouth down on hers as I hear the SUV speed away.

I kiss her lips, inhaling her and getting so fucking lost in my need for her. Her tongue brushes mine, and her teeth bite and nibble me, driving me so insane I can’t think.

“Ryen,” I gasp, pressing my cock into her as I squeeze her ass too hard.

I need to be closer.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she pants as I pull down her shirt and touch her everywhere not covered by her bikini top.

“Don’t act like you’re going to tell me no.” I pull open the passenger side door. “I know you like this side of me.”

She looks around, probably nervous we’ll be seen, but the parking lot is dead. I pull my shirt over my head, dropping it on the ground next to hers and start unbuttoning her shorts, going in for another kiss to quiet any protest she might dream up.

Her shorts fall to the ground, and she whimpers in my mouth. “Get on my lap,” I tell her, taking the seat and pulling her in.

She climbs on, and I shut the door, leaving our clothes outside. She reaches behind her and pulls the strings of her bikini, the whole top falling away, and I grab it and toss it before doing the same to her bottoms, pulling the strings that secure it at the sides.

“Oh, Jesus,” I groan, kissing her again as I take her ass in one hand and dive between her legs with the other. She’s so smooth and wet.

She reaches between us and unfastens my belt, and I do the best I can, getting my jeans down and my cock free while trying not to break the kiss.

“Give it to me,” she moans. “I want it.” “I know.”

Pulling out a condom from my jeans, I rip it open and roll it on, holding my cock steady as I pull her up. I slip it down her length and position myself under her. She groans, already rolling her hips in sexy little movements.

Finding her hot entrance, I thrust my hips up and put the tip in, and she does the rest. Lowering herself, she spreads her legs as far as the seat will allow, and I pull her into me, burying myself deep.

“Hell yes,” I breathe out.

Her hips roll shallow and fast, in little figure-eight movements, and she stays close, her tits rubbing against my chest. I can taste her mouth, even though our lips aren’t touching.

“Say my name,” I whisper. “Who’s fucking you right now?”

She keeps stride, her beautiful ass swaying in and out and the car filling with wet heat. “I’m fucking you,” she corrects. “And I really don’t care whose dick it is.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It could be anyone in this Jeep,” she says, biting my bottom lip. “Maybe someone from that party even. If you hadn’t shown up, I would’ve still been riding someone’s cock tonight.”

I dig my fingers into her ass. “Were you going to be bad?” She mewls, nodding.

“Show me how bad, baby.” I bring one hand up, palming her breast. “How were you going to screw some stranger later?”

She picks up the pace, leaning back, so I can get a good view of her gorgeous body working me. Her tits sway with the motion, and I close my eyes, letting my head fall back as I rub her clit with my thumb.

“You would’ve made him come good,” I tease. “Sweet little pussy like this.”

Her moans get higher and faster, and I open my eyes, seeing her watching me. But then she suddenly comes in close again, wrapping her arms around my neck, and covering my mouth with hers, kissing me deep and hard as she rides us both home.

I come, wrapped in her arms, legs, and mouth, and feeling her sweaty and smooth skin stuck to mine. She cries out, her pussy tightening hard around me as she comes and thrusts her hips, taking me in again and again until she’s spent.

I hold her as we both come down, the heat nearly unbearable. I have no idea how long before she’ll let me touch her again, so I’m going to enjoy this.

She can be a nightmare, but this still feels better than any dream.

Her breathing calms, but she stays buried in my neck, sounding as if she’s asleep.

“I wish we would’ve met in grade school,” I say quietly, smiling to myself. “We would’ve played well together. On the playground, I mean.”

She pulls her head up, and there’s pain in her eyes.

I cup her face in my hands. “I know you,” I tell her. “I know you now. You wouldn’t have wanted this from anyone else. Because before me, you had sex once. Two years ago.”

Her eyebrows pinch together, and I can see tears glistening. Yeah, I remember the letter, babe. You were a mess, feeling ashamed and hurt, and I wanted to kill the guy.

“Everyone told you to do it, and you did,” I whisper. “He never spoke to you again, and that’s why you waited for me.”

“I wasn’t waiting for you.”

“You waited for it to feel right,” I bite back, not taking any more of her shit. “I was jealous when you confided in me about your first time. That was when I realized I was possessive of you.” I stare straight into her eyes, never sure about anything this much. “I want everything about you, Ryen, and I know you want me.”

Her body shakes a little, and I lean in, kissing her on the cheek. “But I love the way you lie.”

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