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I swear a choir of angels starts singing a hallelujah chorus. I melt like a stick of butter in a hot pan. His mustache tickles my top lip, and my leg pops like every princess in a Disney movie.
But the three seconds leading up to this moment last longer than the kiss. We’re barely two Mississippis in before he pulls away and steps back. His large frame hits the classroom wall, and his eyes widen with fear. “I-you-we,” he stumbles over his words.
Apprehension fills the space where tension once lay. I realize immediately that I did something wrong. I step back, face struck with horror, and try to figure out where I went wrong.
“Dani,” he chokes out in a whisper, “you can’t do that again.”
But I hear it as plain as day: he liked it as much as I did. “I have to go,” I mumble. The class bell rings; lunch is over. But I grab my things and flee. What have I done?
What happens next?
7
HOLY
Ifucked up.
Ifuckedup.
I. Fucked.Up.
“Calm down,” Beast groans lazily. He has a knife, and he’s picking the dirt out from under his nails. Every few minutes, I watch him flick the residue to the floor. It’s nauseating if you watch him for too long. “And for the love of Christ, stop pacing.”
His twin, Bullet, wrinkles his nose in disgust and agrees. “Yeah, you’re making me anxious. Like the cops are gonna bust in any minute and arrest all of us.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. I made a mistake. She’s probably telling her father right now. I’m going to show up at school tomorrow, and I’ll be fired, and Principal Fulton will have the police waiting to arrest me.” I’m spiraling. At first, I was fine, but then the guys started showing up at the house, and I kept having to tell the story over and over again, and I started realizing how fucked I was. How I fucked myself. “Say your goodbyes.”
“Jesus,” Saint scoffs, “you have to calm down. Pop a Xanax or something.”
“You need one?” Jackal grabs the bag at his feet, and everybody pretends not to hear the pills inside clicking around. He’s a walking pharmacy and not the legal kind. He has a minimum of twelve ways to get arrested in that backpack. But to be fair, he probably has handfuls of Xanax at his disposal. “I got options. You want a Xannie, or are you up for some suggestions? I’ve got Valium and Klonopin, too.”
Drug testing is over for the school year unless the Principal suspects you of being on something, then you’ll be tested at random. I could take something right now and not have to worry, especially because it’s legal. “No, I’m fine.” I won’t, though, because I’m in a situation of my own making, and I deserve to suffer.
Jackal shakes his bag, and the pills rattle around in their bottles inside. “You sure? Because I don’t mind sharing.”
Beast shuts his pocket knife and leans forward in his chair. “Sharing, huh? What else you got in that little bag?”
The two of them start discussing psycho-stimulants, and I tune them out, returning to pace the floor. I should have spoken to the Principal first thing in the morning. But I got up late, and I was rushing to class. I figured I had time to do it tomorrow or Wednesday. I didn’t think the situation I was in could get any worse. Then Dani pressed up against me, and I felt her tight little body on mine as she kissed me, and I knew I’d made a horrible decision. I fucked up. Because now all I want to do is drive to her house, sweep her off her feet, and bury my dick inside her.
“Earth to Holy.” Saint is practically yelling, but it’s his frantically moving hands that catch my attention. “I told you not to get involved with that little hussy. She’s no good.”
For some reason, Saint calling her a hussy kind of pisses me off a bit. I open my mouth to respond, but I’m cut off.
“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.” Bullet leans back on the couch and throws his feet up on the table, making himself comfortable. Beast and Bullet are twins, and not just twin pains in my ass. They’re honest-to-God identical twins, and the only way you can tell the difference between them is that Bullet has a tattoo on his scalp and keeps his hair cropped short.
When everyone looks his way, he throws his hands up. “What? Like you guys wouldn’t take the girl off his hands. She’seighteen. She’s probably good and tight down there unless she’s one of those girls just throwing it at anyone that’ll take it.”
Saint rolls his eyes. “That shit’s made of elastic. It bounces back like a rubber band. She could fuck the entire football team and still be tight enough to take your tiny dick.”
Bullet grabs the first thing within reach and chucks it at Saint. Thank God it’s the empty soda can on the table and not the glass bottle his brother is drinking from. Little droplets of leftover Coke fly across the room before bonking Saint in the chest. “You want me to pull it out for you, big dog?” Bullet gets to his feet, and his hand is on his fly. “I’ll show you how tiny I am when I’m jamming this cock down the back of your throat.”
“That sounds a little gay,” Beast frowns. “I don’t care what you do with your dick, but I don’t want to see my brother getting blown by one of my friends. Take that shit to the back room.”
I want to bang my head against the wall. Why did I think asking the Kings would help me solve my problems? Why do I always do this to myself? “Shut up. All of you.” My eyeballs hurt; I think I have a migraine coming on. “Just tell me what I should do to fix this. Because I know it isn’t let any of you fuckers around her. Especially you,” I glare at Bullet.
I’ve been a member of the Kings Of Carnage motorcycle club for fifteen years, and I knew some of these guys before I joined. Saint and I go all the way back to high school. He was a freshman when I was a senior, and I gave him hell for months before it turned out we had a lot in common. He’s the one that gave me my name. I would rideanddie for these men, but sometimes they’re just so damn stupid that I don’t know what to do.
Saint shakes his head. “I don’t want your girl. I like my women moreexperiencedif you know what I mean.” We all know what he means. Saint is a kinky motherfucker that doesn’t hesitate to tell us all about the leather he’s worn in and out of the bedroom. Sometimes it seems like his singular joy in life is to make us uncomfortable by announcing what toys he was sticking up a woman’s ass last night while he was dick deep inside her.
