Page 51 of Bitter Notes


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“Your body’s a temple, Ashton. Treat it like one. No tattoos or piercings are allowed under our roof.” Yeah, right. Okay. Sure.

“What did you do?” he shouts, inching closer with a snarl lining his wrinkly face.

I hold my breath in my lungs when he inches down, eyeing my tattoo closely.

“Ashton!” my mother yelps, coming to inspect my newest piece. “What have you done?”

I shrug. “What I wanted to do,” I say in a low, warning voice. “This is my body; I wanted something to represent myself through.”

It’s the only piece of me I have. My parents have restricted every ounce of everything I’ve ever taken an interest in. Video games, TV, and even the band–limiting my time with each. They’ve thrown them to the wayside when it became too much. Hell, I couldn’t even watch The Wizard movie I wanted to when I was twelve because of magic. Their entire logic makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

With this tattoo, I took back a little piece of what made me, me.

“What you wanted to do? Do you know how expensive that is to get removed?” my father spits, standing straight.

“I’m not getting it removed,” I tell him simply, staring straight into the abyss of his darkening eyes.

“Then you’re not staying here,” my father spits, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin.

“Ashton,” my mother begs my father with pleading eyes. “He’s only eighteen. You can’t just kick him out.” She swallows hard when his burning gaze turns to her, and she shakes her head. I swear I’ve never seen my mother cry, but in this instant, tears stream down her cheeks. But she should have seen this rebellion from a mile away.

“Get out of my house until that abomination is peeled from your skin,” my father says, waltzing toward the front door and throwing it open.

“Call me,” my mother whispers, kissing me on the cheek. “Don’t hesitate.” I nod when I only want to scoff at her hypocritical face. How can a woman stand by while her husband throws out their only son?

As the door slams behind me and all the lights disappear from the house, I realize how fucking alone I am. It isn’t until Callum’s mom steps out from the shadows and offers me her hand.

“Callum may have spilled what you two have been up to today,” she whispers, leading me across the street toward their house.

I swallow hard, on the verge of tears when she pulls me into the lively house and sets me down on the couch.

“You have a home here for as long as you need, Rad. Okay?” I nod with gratitude, washing away the tears from my cheeks.

“Thank you,” I whisper, receiving the tall glass of water she hands me. Silently, I promise myself that I will never let another person stifle my wants and needs. I will never live under a cloud of bullshit.

I swallow hard, coming out of the memory with a shaky breath. There’s nothing like winning a race and immediately being thrown into the wolf’s den. My parents and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, especially my father. Occasionally, I talk to my mom and update her on my life. But for the most part, they’re living their life, and I’m living mine. I guess that’s why Callum was so surprised when I called my mom asking for any home nurses in the area.

“The cookout?” Callum groans quietly, shaking his head. “I hate that tradition.”

Yeah, me too, buddy. It’s the one day a year our parents all get together with mimosas, margaritas, and catered barbeque ribs, all in the name of neighborhood unity. We’re forced to stand in the scorching sun, watching as they gossip and flitter around while stuffing our faces with the catered food that they were too lazy to make themselves. Fucking Gloria and Nigel Montgomery and their ridiculous traditions of unity. Unity, my ass. They want to wave their money around for the world to see in the form of social events and rub their neighbor’s noses in it.

“Me too,” Van grumbles. “But they make us go.”

Van is so fucking hopeless. I snicker when I lean down, plant a kiss right on River’s lips, and overtake her in front of him, shoving my tongue down her throat. He curses under his breath, huffing and puffing. There’s nothing this idiot can do to stop this from happening. Nope.

Instead, he walks away with his pride bruised and his dick hard—hopefully. I want him to drown in the misery River has felt all this time; we’ll build her back up and take her away from this place.

Her breaths heave frantically, and her hand swats at my chest over and over like she wants me to stop shoving my tongue down her throat. I pull back, squeezing my eyes shut as I catch my breath. Her mouth tastes as good as I remember, and I want to live inside it for eternity.

“That was my prize,” I murmur, nudging my nose against hers, fluttering my eyes open, and staring into the abyss of her green eyes. “Think we have some time to play before practice?” I wiggle my brows at Callum, who turns beat red, averting his eyes to the fallen sticks around us.

“It’s only three,” he murmurs, looking at his phone. “They don’t get out of class for a few more hours.”

Right. Kieran and Asher were forced into university after high school. So, while they suffer getting their degrees, Callum and I make the cash for our band. One day, we’ll save enough and hightail it out of here. But first, we need to secure as much as we can. With their college degrees in hand, we’ll safely be on our way to the top, far away from here.

“All right, Pretty Girl. We’ll take you back to our house and handcuff you to the bed. It’s about time Callum learned a little something about cunnilingus.” I grin, rolling my extra-long tongue out, creating waves with it.

Her eyes widen at the length, and she nearly chokes, staring at it when I scoop her up and force her legs around my waist. Digging my fingers into her pert ass, I grin, mounting my bike with her wrapped around me. Those delectable fingernails dig into the back of my neck, breaking through the skin.

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