Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CADENCE
The rest of the day passes slowly, my head clouded with misery the closer it gets to final bell. Hudson’s easy chatter at lunch cheers me and there’s no lingering irritation over our postponed date, but I’m a wreck by the time I get home.
At school, I hadn’t noticed the lack of my phone as strongly, but sitting near my bedroom window, my hands long to hold its familiar weight, my mind a junkie for the bright jingle of notifications.
By the time we finish eating dinner, I’m desperate.
I borrow Mum’s phone to call mine, hoping to embarrass Drake into handing it back, but can’t hear the ringtone.
It might be a flat battery. It could be on silent.
Drake might have thrown it off the cliff, smirking as it tumbled down the path to total destruction.
The loss gives me jitters.
A state exacerbated by the taunt left in my locker. The aftershocks of the flashback and my close-to-disastrous reaction are fading but I’ll either need my pills to sleep or the comfort of mindless scrolling.
I need it.
But he won’t just hand it over. Not without claiming a prize. The hopeless churn of my thoughts continues until I want to scream.
Then Drake walks past the open doorway wearing swimming briefs tight enough to showcase everything , a towel thrown over his shoulder.
“Bit late for a swim,” Arnold says, and I stiffen, hoping he isn’t ruining my opportunity.
Drake shrugs. “Just need to cool down before going to bed. Otherwise, I’ll never sleep.”
The moment the back door snicks closed, I’m off the sofa, heading upstairs, taking the golden opportunity.
If I can’t find my phone, hopefully I can find my pills.
With time ticking, I don’t bother to replace things exactly as they were. If he sees I’ve been in here, good .
It can be his turn to feel violated.
There’s nothing under his pillow. Nothing in any of his uniform pockets. If his bedside cabinet hides any secrets, they’re still intact as I finish my cursory search, pulse pounding in my ears throughout, frustration growing.
It feels like longer, but when I check his bedside clock, it hasn’t even been ten minutes.
There’s still plenty of time.
I go back to his wardrobe, hunting amongst the neatly folded clothes on the shelves, tipping up his shoes to check he hasn’t stored the pill bottle in the toes.
There’s a shoebox in the back and I lift it out, surprised by the weight. It’s crammed full of old photographs and folded paper. Birth certificates. A baby passport with a toothless, grinning Drake.
Beneath that, a tarnished silver locket holds two faded his and hers photos that bear just enough resemblance to conclude they’re his maternal grandparents.
An old class photograph from primary school has his now-permanently-sullen face beaming a smile from the middle row. I’m in the front, my knees covered by a blackboard with the teacher’s name and the year.
“Looking for something?”
I shriek, spinning to see Drake glaring at me from the doorway.
He glances back towards the stairwell, then takes a step forward. “I changed my mind about a late-night swim, but this is a surprise.”
Like hell it is.
From his smug expression, I know he tricked me.
And I didn’t even hear his footsteps. He moves like a cat.
I jump to my feet, going on the aggressive. “I’m only looking for the stuff you stole.”
“The stuff , how specific.” He snorts as he comes in far enough to close the door, then rests back against it, nodding at the shoebox. “Strange that your ‘ stuff’ looks exactly like my ‘stuff.’” He raises his fingers each time in mocking quote marks. “Care to explain?”
My heart rate increases under the intensity of his stare, and I clutch my hands together to hide their trembling. “Sorry. I was being nosy.”
“There’s no need to apologise.” He takes a step towards me and I back away. “Not when your mouth could be better occupied doing far more pleasurable things.” My eyes dart to his skintight trunks before I can stop them, and he chuckles. “It’s nice we understand each other.”
“Pull those down and I’m screaming for help.”
He arches an eyebrow, lips curving into a malicious smile. “Go ahead. Given how much your mother has to lose, she’s probably join in if I asked her.”
“You don’t know the first thing about her.” I plant both hands on his chest and shove as hard as I can, further infuriated when he barely sways. “Why don’t you get back to me when you’ve successfully navigated a mental illness and raising a child on your own, you judgemental prick.”
He grabs my arm when I go to shove him again, easily overpowering me.
“Settle down. You don’t want to add another black mark to your tally.” He rubs his free hand over the cheek I desperately want to smack, palm rasping against the stubble. “It’s like you want to be punished.”
“How would you like me to insult your mother? Or do you think it only goes one way?”
His jaw works, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. I expect another deluge of insults. Instead, he releases me to lift his bedside lamp, withdrawing a key from the base, and unlocks his bottom desk drawer, giving me a knowing smile.
“Are these what you’re after?” he asks, shaking the pill bottle, then twisting it to read the label. “Unfortunately, the prescription isn’t made out to you. What a shame.”
I snatch for it, already knowing it’s foolish. Already knowing he won’t let me take them.
“Such a grabby girl.” Another step brings him within touching distance, and I can’t retreat. My knees bump against his bed. “What else do you like to grab, hm?”
My throat closes over, my olfactory system overloaded with his body’s heady mix of sweet smoke and the salty bite of the ocean.
“Or is this what you want?” He drops the pills back in the drawer, withdrawing my phone instead. Before I know what’s happening, he seizes my hand, pressing my thumb to the screen, unlocking it.
“No!”
“What?” He dances away from my grasping hands; his gaze shifting from my face to the phone and back again. “Don’t you want me to read your messages and find out all your secret crushes?” His mocking smile grows broader as he scans the list. “And look here. It’s our lovely neighbour. Want me to tell him to fuck off and die?”
When I grab for the phone this time, he lets me take it, and I shove it into my bra. As I pull back, his brow darkens; he seizes my wrist, fingers closing tight. Staring where Arnold’s pinch has darkened into a bruise.
“Did Hudson do this?” Drake’s nostrils flare with anger, thunderclouds storming in his grey eyes. “I’ll kick his fucking arse.”
I jerk free, tugging my sleeve to cover it. “It’s nothing.”
“I decide if it’s nothing.” His low growl makes my hairs stand on end. Especially when he bends to whisper, “The only one allowed to torment you, is me.”
The words are a sweet menace, setting my nerves alight with their slow, seductive heat. But I resist the temptation.
Nothing good can come from confessing the truth.
Instead, I lunge for the door.
Drake gets there first, slamming his hand onto it to prevent me leaving, his large body pressing into me from behind, enough to feel the hard contours of his bare chest against my back. His hot breath stirs my hair as he hooks the back of my collar, dragging it down until it the front pulls against my throat.
“How’s my writing doing?” The slow throb of his voice matches the pulsing heat in my veins as the cloth tightens. “Are you going to be a good girl and show me?”
I barely have time to shake my head before he withdraws a step, spinning me to face him. His giant hands press on my shoulders, making my legs buckle, and I collapse to my knees.
Steel fingers clamp onto my jaw, tilting my chin until my eyes are forced upwards over the taut musculature of his chest, his chiselled jawline, to meet his scorching gaze.
“That’s better.”
A tightness grows, low in my abdomen. The position of supplication turns Drake into a giant, towering above me.
Holding all the power.
My body and mind fight each other as adrenaline pumps hot blood into my most sensitive places.
He’s infuriating. Confusing. Tempting.
I tug his hand from my face, settling lower on my knees, mouth almost directly in front of his crotch and the power shifts.
Drake is entirely focused on me, holding his breath as he watches, waits. As the growing bulge of his erection strains against the skintight fabric of his swimming briefs, stretching the Lycra whisper thin.
My lips part, tongue licking slowly across them.
Then I savagely snap my teeth together, huffing a soft laugh as he flinches.
“Careful,” he warns, twisting my ponytail around his hand and tugging like a leash. “We still need to discuss the illegal drugs you brought into my house.”
He picks up the bottle again, and I hate that I can’t just turn up my nose and leave. That I’m at a point where they’ve become more of a necessity than an occasional helper.
I remind myself there’s not many left. Even if he lets me have them, in a fortnight— less —I’ll be in the same position.
But the rattle of the bottle turns me into Pavlov’s dog.
They’re worth more than just a good night’s sleep. They’ll wipe my racing thoughts away, so nothing hurts. The weakness breaks me more thoroughly than insomnia ever could, turning me hollow.
I should be better than this.
Stronger.
“I don’t trust you with the full bottle, but”—he balances a single tablet on his fingertip—“I’m happy to dispense one at a time.”
He shoves down his waistband, erection slapping back against his abdomen, then balances the pill on top.
“Here you go.” His voice is deep, ragged. “Suck it off me and we’ll call it even.”
I’ve never seen a hard cock before, not in real life.
One glance and I can’t look away, my eyes fixing to the shiny head where a drop of precum beads, right next to the tablet. I follow the twisting path of his fat veins, see the vibration as they pulse along the length of his shaft, my view cut off by the lowered waistband.
When I swallow, my throat is dry. My mouth is dry. My pulse flutters, racing until I’m lightheaded. I pluck at the skin of my throat, then cover it with my fingers, feeling exposed, though he’s the one with his body on display.
It will be easy.
I could suck the pill off his head, my tongue sweeping across to claim it.
It’s just the tip.
The idea fills me with heat and as Drake’s intense eyes keep watch, I see a matching burn inside him. The throb of anticipation in my core is harder to resist than the worst peer pressure.
My mouth goes from dry to pooling saliva in a heartbeat.
When I wrench my gaze away, he breaks into a mocking smile.
“No?” With a delicate move, he pinches the pill between finger and thumb, snapping his swimming trunks back in place. He bunches his fist in my shirt, dragging me upright. Balancing the pill on his thumbnail, he bumps the rough pad against my bottom lip. “What about now?”
His eyes hold mine captive as I slowly, slowly, slowly let my lips part, my tongue gently pressing forwards.
He thrusts his thumb inside, free hand cupping my head to hold me steady as he pumps it in and out of my mouth. His eyes lock to mine, moving until he’s a hair’s breadth away. Licking his lips, hungry for my reaction as his cock presses above my hip.
Both touches obscene. Both firing a deep craving for more.
I have so much colour in my cheeks, they’re pulsing.
A tang of salt mixes with the bitterness of the tablet and I swallow despite the pumping intrusion, making sure he can’t snatch my reward away.
“Was that good?” he growls, withdrawing and wiping his thumb dry on my cheek.
I can’t move. I can’t say a word.
Disappointment and arousal tangle in a hard knot.
He runs a curled knuckle along my jaw, the muscles behind my ear clenching until my eyes prickle and my nose stings. Then reaches past me to open the door, shoving me from his room.
“Don’t worry.” His mouth curls in a harsh smile. “I’m keeping score, and I’ll take a rain check on that blow job.” His eyes flick to my chest and my arms fold over my tightening nipples. “Perhaps later tonight when you’re fast asleep.”
I don’t respond—I can’t respond—and he swings the door closed.
The moment I’m back in my room, I wedge the chair firmly under the doorhandle, then trigger the electronic lock on the windows, drawing the curtains.
Only feeling safe when I’ve done everything possible to lock him out.