Fear Me (Broken Love #1)(17)

by B.B. Reid

I knew Keiran would consume me if I let him have me. I wouldn't be able to survive what he was planning without experience.

I finally left the bathroom to find Keiran leaning against the wall across from the bathroom door; one foot perched on the wall with his hands in his pockets. I stared at him and he stared back. When he crooked his finger, motioning for me to come to him, I gave into temptation.  He stood up straight and fisted his hand in my shirt bringing my chest flush with his.

“Whatever bullshit you’re telling yourself to escape what’s going to happen between us, drop it. I’ve already told you how it’s going to be. You want it just as bad as I do and I…will…have…you. End of discussion.”

It was safe to say that I was in deep shit.

* * *

I tried once again to reach Willow in the hour I'd been home. I figured there was no way he would know I talked to her but when I didn’t get an answer after the fifth or sixth time, I grew frustrated. I had allowed Keiran to tear us apart without lifting so much as a finger.

“Screw it,” I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs ignoring Keiran’s warning not to leave. He dropped me off after school and immediately left. Aunt Carissa was gone now for her tour and the house felt incredibly empty without her.

I stepped outside and locked up but an eerie feeling had me looking around nervously. I instinctively searched for a particular black muscle car but when I didn’t spot it anywhere I shook off the feeling and hopped into my car. Willow lived just around the corner in the neighboring cul-de-sac.

I was at her house a couple of minutes later and noticed her car outside. Her parents’ car was gone so I knew she was home alone. Buddy probably wasn't home as usual. He was a freshman but has already moved up in ranks at Bainbridge and earned the title as one of the hottest—even senior girls chased him. We’ve grown close over the years and he was like the little brother I would never get. I swallowed down the unwanted feeling of bitterness and rung the doorbell.

A few minutes passed but no one answered. Refusing to let my only friendship die I tried the doorknob. The door surprisingly opened so I entered, checking the living room and kitchen before moving upstairs.

“Willow?” I called out when I reached the landing. I could hear low sounds coming from her room as I moved forward. When she didn't answer I feared there was something wrong so I pushed the door open. “Willow?”

I walked in and instantly wished I hadn’t.

I could barely make out Willow on the bed covered by a large male body. Her legs were wrapped around his hips. Her head was thrown back and her eyes closed tight. She was gripping the muscular buttocks of the guy who had her pinned to the bed as her breasts rocked in rhythm with the headboard banging against the wall. Her passionate cries mixed with his lustful groans as he pounded her, forcefully. It was a wonder I couldn't make it out clearly before. Suddenly his head turned toward the door and he immediately spotted me as I stood frozen watching them.

Dash Chambers. Keiran’s best friend. His name tasted bitter on my tongue.

He continued his furious pace—never missing a beat as he watched me watch him with a smirk. Willow had yet to notice me as he continued to pleasure her so I stepped back quickly and quietly shut the door. I ran down the stairs and out the door. I couldn’t believe that I caught them like that.

So it was true…she was sleeping with the enemy.

* * *

“Hey, Charlie,” I greeted when I walked through the front doors.

“Thanks again, for covering the shift. I know it’s your birthday.”

“No, problem. Sorry I couldn’t get here faster. “

“Please tell me it was finally because of a guy?”

“Not quite…”

“Well honey, that’s not a no! Congratulations!” Charlie began jumping up and down, clapping and drawing unwanted attention.

“Can we please not do this again?”

“Forgive me for being worried about your love life when you aren’t. At this rate all I see in your future are tabby cats and bowel problems. Can you imagine what that could do to a person?”

I listened to Charlie’s rants while he followed me behind the service desk and into the employee den. I had to threaten him with bodily harm when he tried to follow me into the bathroom stall. He finally went away, muttering about clueless teenagers and I quickly changed into my uniform shirt.

I picked up this job at the gym last year after Keiran had been gone for about two months. I remember feeling as if I had lost a vital piece of my life and so I picked up a few hobbies at first but couldn’t stick to them. A few weeks later, on my way to the local burger joint, I saw an ad in the window of the local gym and applied. Charlie had taken one look at me and began bemoaning my lack of a love life. He guessed that I either didn’t appreciate men or was hung up on someone who didn’t notice me. If he only knew. I tried to explain that I was only sixteen and had the rest of my life to make a love connection, but that nearly brought him to tears.

“You poor thing. It’s worse than I thought. You’re hired. I have to help you. This is my one true purpose in life.”

And I’ve worked here ever since. It was a nice distraction and gave me a chance to save some money for college. I didn’t have a clue where I wanted to go then but as long as it was far away from him I would survive.

I clipped the headset they made us wear on my jeans, clocked in and headed out to make my rounds. There was nothing like spending a few hours inhaling the aroma of sweat and watching lonely housewives lust over the half-naked, sweaty men. The gym definitely had its perks.

Charlie was back on the floor, pretending to oversee things while discreetly checking out the men as they worked out. He was a full fledge homosexual and proud of it. He also had the biggest heart and was a decent mentor in all things men though he called himself a failure because of my single status.

Later into my shift, I was deep into the membership accounts, sifting through accounts that were overdue and marking them for later when I smelled lemons. A satisfied smile covered my face as I looked up at the woman responsible. Mrs. Fletcher frequented the gym even at the age of sixty-eight, though she mostly walked on the treadmill and stair master. She sometimes brought me lemon cookies.

“Good afternoon, dear. I brought you some treats.” She set the paper bag on the counter and I immediately snatched them up.