Tricky Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #1)

13. CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 13

Nic

First night out being back on first team. Should be a cause for celebration yet I’m here listening to the grating sound of Tilda’s laugh in Elly’s room above.

Who also made first team according to Haz.

I stare up at the ceiling, seeing past Tilda, past the pine canopies, right up into the sky where I shout at the gods.

What the fuck have I done to deserve this?

Plenty, I suppose, but nothing I can’t trace back to that explosion ten years ago.

She was the dynamite then and the dynamite now if this roar in my head is anything to go by.

I can’t have her in my fucking space. I can bear a lot of shit but only if I’m fucking, smoking, drinking the shit away. Not when the shit is living in my house.

Elly and Haz eventually join me in the lounge, their straight girl experiment blessedly missing.

‘She staying in tonight?’

‘Wouldn’t you be so lucky?’ Haz retorts as she heads into the kitchen.

No. Of course I wouldn’t.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Text from Skylar asking if I’m out tonight. Not Vipers though. The Vaults. A place I haven’t visited since clearing up my act last year.

I put my phone back without answering. These two fuckers would kill me if I visited there again.

Haz comes back with arms full of the cider cans she had chilling in the fridge.

‘So.’ She hands one to me. ‘House meeting. Tilda’s staying with us for the foreseeable future. We’ve voted.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘No need. It’s two-one.’ She eyes me as she sits down. ‘Right?’

‘I can make it one-one.’ I nod to Elly whose tucking into her cider sprawled out on the carpet. ‘Since you’re only here at my discretion.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ she replies easily.

Unfortunately, the fucker’s right. Doing that would break my heart.

And that she knows that pisses me off.

‘Hey. Make you an offer,’ Haz says.

I look at her, waiting.

‘Tell us what your deal is with Tilda and I’ll maybe reconsider letting her stay.’

My deal.

Wouldn’t that be a tale. One I have no desire to regale. It’s a precarious lid I keep on as it is. One that’s quickly coming unscrewed.

Haz’s eyes are attentive, irises black in the muted lamplight. There’s concern there. It’s so rare, so unlike her that it jolts me every time I see it. And every time I do, it’s always directed at me.

I’d been a hot mess when we met at college, both enrolled on the same English course—a course she’d just as quickly dropped. I sensed a kindred spirit immediately, my darkness calling to hers. They’d mixed, transmuting to a weird kind of light I’ve never taken for granted. For Haz herself, I think she just liked having competition for pussy.

We became inseparable. A gruesome twosome tearing through the girls of our classes and the clubs in the city beyond. With Dad’s money I inherited at eighteen, we rented ourselves a flat, a veritable den of iniquity. She introduced me to a world of darkness and kink, and in turn I taught her how to care. She’s carried me through the last three years but even now she doesn’t know the full story. Not the genesis of it anyway. The chapter that involves Tilda.

And she won’t be knowing it tonight. Not after this betrayal.

Averting my eyes, I shake my head.

‘Well.’ She takes a mouthful of cider, her disappointment clear. ‘Better add her to our cleaning rota then.’

I hear a door close, then the sound of feet clapping down the stairs.

And with that, I’m out.

‘Catch up with you fucks later.’

‘Dude,’ Elly protests as I shove my feet into my boots. ‘Sit the fuck down. We’ll go together.’

‘There is no together. You fucked that the moment you brought that into the house.’

I nod at Tilda who regards me with wary green eyes. So fucking guileless like she’s not the homewrecker—the life-wrecker—she is.

Suddenly angry at all of them, I slam my way out the house.

I’m way too sober to be going out this early but I can pregame at Vipers. It’ll be dead this early in the night. Then, afterwards, maybe a visit to the Vaults wouldn’t go amiss after all.

Tilda

The lights are red again. I love it when they are. It’s darker than the purple of last Friday night, deepening the shadows in the corners of the club. I think it makes people act out more; they’re louder, rowdier, couples already taking advantage of the dark corners.

‘Could be us,’ Haz says into my ear.

She has an arm around me as we head to the bar, Elly slightly to the front of us with her card out ready.

One day I’ll be the one buying these girls drinks but clearly it won’t be tonight.

I look around for my hockey lot, hoping not to see Nic amongst them. Normally I wouldn’t care for her shit, but my nerves are frayed at the moment, too sensitive for her unwarranted nastiness.

Hockey practice this evening went better than I thought. She spent the whole hour ignoring me, raising her eyes only when she needed to pass the ball. If that’s to be our future, I can deal with it. There’s no denying she’s a good player, as much as it vexes me. Coach had us pitted against each other for most of it. I have a feeling we’re the top two and she wants us vying for first position.

And annoyingly, part of me wants to as well.

We have our first non-club social next week. I’m looking forward to getting to know the other girls. I can’t have Nic being the only person I know on the team.

Elly must see me looking around. After she hands me my drink, she says, ‘Don’t feel bad if you want to ditch us.’ She sends me a wink. ‘We’re not your keepers.’

‘Not at that point in our relationship?’ I joke, remembering our phone call from the weekend.

‘Taking it slow for your sake. Don’t want to scare you off.’ Taking my hand, she places it over her heart. ‘You’re already my keeper, babe.’

In the end, I don’t need to leave Elly and Haz. We join the hockey horde on the dance floor, as well as some other students I remember from last year’s Varsity teams.

Nic’s there, dancing with some girls from first team. She sees us but doesn’t come over. It makes me feel a bit bad for the other two. I don’t want my presence to drive a wedge between them. I don’t know what her problem is, but Nic clearly feels vindicated in some way.

Later on, I get talking to some of the girls who were at try-outs. In turn, they introduce me to some boys on the guy’s team. They all seem nice, happy to have me in the fold. This should have been me last year but better late than never. I still can’t get off that boat without feeling a pang of anxiety.

One of the boys smiles at me with familiarity. Tommy’s a fresher but some of our modules overlap. I’ve never spoken to him until tonight, but I know he’s creating a super cool app for moth identification for one of his projects, so despite not knowing him he’s always been in my good graces.

‘Congrats on making the team,’ he says to me over the music.

I think he made first team too, the team that whooped the asses of the mainland university last Varsity. They’d been such hoolies afterwards that Varsity had almost been banned for good. Despite being the most prestigious university in the country, it’s rare we win the competition. But what we lack in talent, we more than make up for in rowdiness.

Not this year though. This year I’ll make sure we win and set the streets on fire.

Tommy turns out to be a fun time on the dance floor. He requests the dumbest songs, creating for them the dumbest dance moves, Elly matching him move to move. I can’t ever remember having such a fun night out.

If only Nic wasn’t hovering around like a damn Dementor.

She’s there every time I look up, watching from the edges of the dance floor, a beer in one hand and the other in the pocket of her low-slung trousers.

She has that look in her eyes, the one from Halloween. A mix of hatred and fury and a little something else beneath it. Torment, maybe. Despair.

When Tommy leaves for the loos, she follows him with that same look before tracking her eyes back to me. Seeing me watching, she holds my gaze, raising her beer to her lips. I don’t miss the way her hand tremors.

I don’t know how many drinks I’ve had at this point but I’m soundly drunk, my inhibitions a thing of the past. Haz and Elly are for once paying me no mind. I think it’s about time I get to the bottom of this thing with Nic.

But when I turn to find her, she’s no longer there.

Nic

Can’t say I didn’t try.

Getting to Vipers an hour earlier than them, I made it my mission to get as fucked up as I could before they got there.

It dulled the throb a bit, especially with the arrival of the hockey girls who seemed stoked to have me back on the team.

I barely felt a thing when they arrived, watching her flanked by Elly and Haz as they made their way to the bar.

Never seen them so under somebody’s spell. Maybe she really is a witch, not just the play-pretend one from our childhood.

A childhood only I seem to remember.

It was fine. I kept my distance, lost myself in the bottle.

Then Tommy turned up, my mind pulling away from itself as I watched them talk and dance and laugh.

My two demons, bedevilling together.

That roar, the one in my head, it’s screaming now.

And there’s only one place I know that can soothe it.

I don’t think of them, Elly and Haz, as I leave Vipers and cross the island to the shore.

My ears ring from the music. I look out over the water. Beneath the half-moon’s light, the Vaults beckons, its gaping mouth drawing me in.

There’re rowboats out there, in each of them a watching figure.

At my signal, one breaks away from the others, rowing silently until it hits the bank.

I wade in, ice water seeping to my knees. It sobers me up. Gonna have to sort that quick when I get there.

Before, the Charons would ask for identification, pairing that with some dumb riddle I’d have to answer.

Tonight the cloaked figure says nothing.

The Vaults aren’t open to everyone. It’s a cruelly bestowed privilege of mine.

The water’s choppy, pulling us away from the mouth of the cave. Giving me a chance to turn back. I hear the Charon curse. Probably some fresher, in it for a bit of cash and not yet used to the unforgiving North Sea.

We pass through the mouth, everything going black with only the Charon’s lamplight to see by. Then we turn a corner and the air pulses with a faraway beat, the sounds of laughing and shrieking and singing rushing along in currents.

The boat hits the back of the cave. Hand grasping the railing, I haul myself up the slick, rough-hewn steps.

The Charon hovers below, waiting for a tip.

I reach down and clap them on the shoulder. ‘You’ll get the hang of it.’

Following the strung lamps, I enter the network of tunnels. Even off my head I can find my way below, drawn on by the promise of all the dark delights that await.

It’s busier than Vipers on any day of the week, the huge cavern holding a multitude of sins, all up for grabs if you’re part of Hazelhurst’s elite set. Even the non-students living on Hazel Point are a part of that. Whatever their dark souls are calling for, they’ll find it here.

And there’s a few things I’m looking for tonight.

Standing at the entrance, I take stock of the club. No colourful lights here. Just an unceasing lightning storm of white strobes. No cheery pop to be heard either. The stuff they play vibrates right through your bones, like the eldritch gods are constantly growling their disapproval.

Because there’s nothing holy going on here.

The most savoury thing to be done is to stay put, drink and dance, but take a gander through the tunnels coming off the cavern and you’ll find an assortment of illegal goings-on.

Up front, below the DJ booth set on a ledge halfway up the wall, are a few glass rooms. Unoccupied, they’re exactly that, but once you’re locked inside, preferably in the company of someone you really like, the glass fogs over from the outside. You can see out, but they don’t get to see in.

When you’re in one of those rooms though, it feels like the whole club is watching.

I descend into the throng, inching my way to one of the narrow tunnels, the ceiling so low I have to stoop. It spits me out into a smaller cave. This one quieter with the distinct smell of money.

I buy a couple of bags, turning down that part of my brain that’s screaming at me to stop.

Six months sober but who fucking cares.

I stuff them into my pockets, hands burning like brands just to touch the stuff.

I’m on the way back to see if I can find Skylar when a stall catches my eye. Metal winks atop the table. The seller has a knife in their hands, twisting it so it catches the light. They’re cloaked like the Charons. I always wonder if these peddlers are students or staff. Either way they make a killing from us sordid lot.

I hover at the table, eyes darting from knife to knife, the points of them calling to me. I pick one up, admiring the handle detailing.

‘You touch it, you buy it,’ the seller murmurs.

They’re teasing but I’m already reaching for my money. Then the knife’s in my pocket, the contents of which can now land me a good few years in prison.

Hazelhurst’s a law unto its own. The rules of the outside world don’t exist here.

Finding somewhere quiet, I take out my phone. There’s no signal down here but only an hour ago Skylar said she was by the cages. So that’s where I head, trailing to the back of the market into the room beyond.

It’s loud in here, jeers and shouts and that meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Girl’s night tonight. I recognise the one in the first cage, the one with the most watchers.

Blakely. Hazelhurst’s very own beast.

About three times the size of Haz, she’s been the reigning champion since she rocked up as a newbie fresher. The first girl she laid out left for the hospital and never returned.

She’s on my course. We’re not besties, but she was friendly enough last year when I thought I might want a go at the fighting stuff. One go around with Blakely put a stop to that.

I’m still looking for somewhere to exorcise this rage.

The door clangs open and she strolls out, an ugly smile stretching her lips, teeth red with blood.

‘When are you gonna start picking on people your own size?’ I say when she catches me standing there.

‘You offering?’

Her voice is rasping. Must have taken a punch to the throat.

‘Nope. I know my limits.’ I flex out my arm. There’s a sinewy kind of strength there but I’m a twig compared to this girl.

‘Pussy,’ she wheezes.

Her eyes are glowing, their weird grey colouring like chips of ice.

She gets off on this stuff, I can tell.

More than once I’ve seen her trade the cage for one of those glass rooms with an opponent. Probably gaining more injuries in there than they do in the fight.

A doll-like, orange haired girl joins her side, offering her a glass of ice water. Blakely takes a sip, swills it, then spits out a mouthful of blood. I’ve seen her around before. Blakely’s bird, maybe. Clearly okay with her fucking other girls if so.

Makes me think of my housemates and their latest catch. Wouldn’t surprise me if I got home later to them in bed together. Better stay out as long as I can.

I feel a tiny hand tug mine and know before I turn that Skylar’s found me.

‘You came then.’ She smiles a bit, eyes barely visible in all that black makeup and raven-wing-like falsies. I’ve never seen her without her eyes like that. Not sure I’d even recognise her without it.

‘You can be too if you want.’

Her smile deepens.

Maybe I have found a way to exorcise my demons after all.

‘Book us a box?’ She rises to her tiptoes to tug my lip with her teeth.

I let her lead me back into the club, blessedly finding one of the glass rooms vacant.

We enter and lock the door.

Nothing happens from our side, but I trust we’re no longer visible to the prying eyes of the dance floor.

Not that I’ll be worrying about voyeurs in a minute. They can all join in for all I care.

Skylar hops up onto a table, swinging her legs, the pale skin there marked with the black ink of tattoos. No colour shading for this girl. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her in anything but black.

Reminds me of another girl.

I peel Skylar’s legs apart and slide between them.

A girl I need to be forgetting about.

I graze my teeth along the skin of Skylar’s neck. ‘Wanna party with me?’

‘Depends. What party games you got?’

I reach into my pocket and pull out a baggie. ‘How about this for starters?’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘You and that stuff. Gonna have no pussy left by the time you’re done with me.’

I give a thin smile. ‘Happy to share, cutie. Got enough for the two of us.’

‘Gonna need it, I reckon.’ She tugs the bag from me and jumps down.

I let her sort us out as my hand lowers to my crotch.

Packing is more Haz’s thing but I felt a call for it tonight.

Something I know Skylar will appreciate.

Not that I give a flying fuck what this girl wants.

She likes to be used, shouting that ‘free use’ thing to anyone who’ll hear.

Kinda fucked, really. Plenty of assholes who’ll take advantage of that.

I guess tonight I’m one of them.

‘So then,’ she purrs afterwards, her tiny arms barely able to wind around my neck, ‘how do you want me?’

I pull her to me for a kiss. ‘Bent over that table. Bottoms off.’

She turns round, shimmying her way out of her shorts. She nods to the cubbyholes lining the stone wall of the room. ‘Lube up, sexy.’

‘Just give it a second and you won’t need any.’

Even her ass is tatted. I take some time to admire the designs as I unbutton my trousers and free the strap.

I’m wet already, the blow engorging my system, my heartbeat taking up residence in my pussy. If I don’t fuck this girl right now, I’ll perish.

I glance out over the revellers as I bend myself over her, skimming my palms over her petite form whilst she gasps and wiggles beneath me. They’re not looking our way, they can’t see, but my clit twinges at the sight of them all.

Skylar wouldn’t give a shit if I was to unlock the door, pulling the curtain down from over us, but I prefer to sin in the shadows.

Getting my hands beneath her netty top, I tweak her pierced nipples, tugging the bars until she moans. Pressing my hips forward, I let her feel the strap, angling it between her legs.

‘Just put it in,’ she groans.

I chuckle into the back of her neck. She’s like a guy, able to come in 0.2 seconds, no clit game necessary. It’s enviable, really.

But I’m teasing myself, not her.

My heart’s beating dangerously fast, my whole body alive and thrumming.

I’m still waiting for the peak, revelling in how vital I feel.

Fuck those last six months. This is heaven. This is euphoric.

I rub her soaked pussy, the only bare thing on her whole body. She must keep it waxed, ready for whoever’s waiting in the shadows to jump out and bone her.

My pussy clenches at the thought. I bite down on a groan as I position the strap. I can’t wait anymore, my pussy throbbing so hard it hurts.

I push into her carelessly, feeling her whole body tighten. A hiss escapes her. She points her ass towards me as she comes onto her tiptoes. Small as she is, I’m still able to fill her to the hilt.

I look at the place our bodies meet, gently pulsing my hips. I turn my head, holding the eyes of some random blonde girl.

She has no clue, no fucking idea, and that thrills me to no end.

Pulling out to the tip, I slam back into Skylar.

‘Fuck!’ she cries, high and desperate.

Grabbing her hips, I start up an unforgiving pace.

Pausing a few times to rub my clit, I’m able to come once like that. But the more the baggie empties, the more my nose streams, the more elusive the pleasure gets. No matter how hard I pound her, no matter how hard I rub myself, the peak remains distant.

I’ve lost count of how many times Skylar’s come. She can barely hold herself up, slumped over the table and needing me to support her.

I gave her a safe word after our last violent fuck, but she only scoffed and refused to use it.

Not my problem.

I’d stop if she wanted me to.

But she remains schtum, so quiet now I can’t even be sure she’s conscious.

Closing my eyes, I try to concentrate.

The orgasm’s there, just there.

I thrust my hips, angling my clit just right as I meet Skylar. Pleasure ricochets through me with every hit but then it bounds away again, making me growl in frustration.

‘Nic, baby,’ Skylar gasps.

I slap a palm over her mouth.

We have a safe gesture too for times like this.

She grasps my hand in hers and I wait for her to tap out.

But she doesn’t, so I keep going.

Pleasure leeches from my body, with it the euphoria from before. I have a second bag but some far away part of my mind’s warding me off.

Already I’m sweaty, and not in a good way, my pulse hammering uncomfortably.

I’ve gone too hard and heading for a crash.

If only I could come, just one more time before that happens.

Giving up on Skylar, I stand up straight, pulling out halfway to snake my fingers over my clit. I wince. Too sensitive. Too numb. How can it be both? Eyes still closed, I tip my head back and rub furiously.

In this darkness alone, my mind drifts. I think of the others. Still at Vipers? And Tommy and Tilda—

I hiss, banishing all thoughts of them.

Almost.

This darkness reminds me of Halloween, the sight of Tilda roaming my kitchen in that skeleton bodysuit, my gaze caught on those perfect pair of legs.

My clit twitches and I recommence my thrusting, fingers still strumming my clit.

Her makeup had been smeared that night and if the other two hadn’t been fully clothed, I’d have thought they’d all just fucked on the sofa.

Had Tilda not been Tilda, had she been any other girl, I might have stayed to watch, the fantasy of that sending a bolt to my pussy.

And suddenly I’m close, so, so close—

‘Pigeon,’ Skylar breathes.

I sigh, pulling out of her.

From a cubbyhole, I retrieve some tissues, using them to clean the strap before passing them to Skylar.

I wait for her by the door, arms folded.

She pulls up her shorts, her hands shaking horribly. The whole of her is shaking.

‘You good?’

She moans, barely able to open her eyes, mascara smudged all around them. ‘Ask me again in ten minutes.’

Soon as she’s done, I unlock the door.

The dancers watch us exit. I wonder what they’re thinking, what they thought we did. I hope they wonder all bloody night.

I keep Skylar close to me as I hail two glasses of water. Leading us to a quiet snug in the cavern wall, I pull her between my legs, arms tight around her.

Haz might scoff at the notion of aftercare but I’ve always had more of a soul than her, battered and bruised as it is.

‘Got anymore gear?’ Skylar murmurs, no doubt coming down as hard as me. For such a tiny thing she can sure pack a lot away.

‘All out, I’m afraid.’

‘Another time then.’ Her head falls against my chest, her breathing levelling out until she’s practically asleep.

I set my phone timer for ten minutes, ready to be done with all this and call it a night.

Turns out some demons just can’t be exorcised.

Must’ve been in that room a while.

When I get back to the lodge, all is quiet.

Elly’s dead to the world on the sofa, the other two nowhere to be seen.

I chug some water in the kitchen, drowning in the sorrow of a bad come down. Tomorrow’s gonna fucking suck.

Leaving Elly a glass of water, I make my way upstairs.

The blade of that knife digs into my ass with every step. Forgot about that fucking thing.

The doorway to the spare room is ajar and I can’t help but peek in.

She’s there. Alone. Arm hooked over her pillow as she slumbers.

Sleeping the sleep of the innocent.

My hand slides into my back pocket, curling around the knife.

It glints in the hallway light as I pull it out, as does the septum piercing in Tilda’s nose.

Closing the door, I snuff out the light.

She has the curtains open a crack, a faraway forest floodlight offering just enough light to see by.

My brain still balks at the sight of her.

A past player back for another game.

She and Tommy both.

What is this, some kind of reckoning?

And if so, which one of us is to be punished?

I spin the knife in my hands, running my eyes over her sleeping form.

She’s in a hoodie that looks like one of Haz’s, some screamo band emblem on the front. One bare leg peeks out from the quilt.

Has Haz been in here tonight, dicking this ruiner into the mattress?

Would be just like her to fuck and chuck, retreating to her room across the hall.

I’m hoping they’ll get bored.

Everything’s ugly when you get up close.

They’ll have her packing up to return to the Poor House before long.

I can’t shake her off completely, not with hockey, but it’ll make it bearable.

Just.

I hold my breath when she murmurs and rolls over. Dark hair spills down her back, the quilt coming away to bare her knickered ass.

I push out a slow breath.

Those legs.

Good job I’m too low to respond.

Backing out the room, I ascend to my bedroom, knife still loosely clutched.

I won’t sleep, not for a while, but at least up there I can try to forget.