Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Ella
Stupid - Tate McRae
“ E ls?” a voice calls out as I hear the front door downstairs. “Are you home?”
I hear Alex running up the stairs and finally knocking on my bedroom door.
“Are you in here?”
I groan from under the covers, reluctantly grabbing my sleeping shorts and putting them on to hide the new cuts I made before I tell her to come in.
“Hey, pretty,” she says softly. “How are you?”
I turn around in bed, burying my face in my pillows as she comes to sit next to me. Her gentle soul can be felt all around the room and in the way she delicately puts her hand on the covers and pulls them down. And still, I don’t feel safe.
“Did you not go to class this afternoon?” she asks.
I couldn’t when Chris kept my underwear and his cum was leaking out of me. I couldn’t when I bumped into Megan who is now unsurprisingly Maria’s new best friend. The new captain of the cheer team, who replaced me. Not when everyone on campus is looking at me like I’m the devil.
I don’t say any of this to Alex. I can’t even face her.
I know her and Peach must have seen Hermes’s post. I haven’t been able to stop crying all afternoon. After I got dropped from the team by text , after sleeping with Chris, I just couldn’t be around anyone anymore. And to make it all worse, I had a call from Luke to say how disappointed he was in me to have gone to the initiations. As if I didn’t do it to save us all. Apparently, at least I made mom proud.
“Els,” she calls so lightly it feels like the stroke of a feather. “You’re my best friend, you know that, right? A little rumor won’t ever make me change my mind about that.”
My voice is stuck in my throat. I can’t answer anything.
“The truth won’t either,” she adds.
She knows it’s not a rumor. God, it makes me feel sick.
“I love you. I know what it’s like to have the weight of an untouchable man on your shoulders. Even when that man is supposed to love you and care for you.” She sighs, probably remembering her own dad. “Dads are meant to protect you. Yours, mine…they didn’t. Bad men get what they deserve.”
My head pops up from the shock at her words. I wipe the tears that started to spill again. Did sweet Alex Delacroix really just say that?
“Was it true?” she asks. “What Hermes published?”
I nod, another sob pushing past my tight throat. “I’m sorry. That I did it. And that I didn’t tell you or Peach.”
With a shake of her head, she puts a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. She wipes a tear too. “You were scared. ”
“I didn’t know what I was doing at first. And when I found out, he said he would take me down with him.” I burst into tears from the shame and guilt that have been clinging onto me for years. “And now he’s gone, and I somehow feel bad for him?”
“Why do you feel bad?” I feel like I’m with a therapist, but it still helps.
“Because I’m happy that he’s dead.”
Pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, I try to calm myself. It’s only when Alex takes me in her arms that one of the tight bands wrapped around my lungs snaps.
Downstairs, the opening of the front door sounds again.
“Ella. Baker!” Peach screams from downstairs.
Another set of feet run up the stairs, and then my fiery friend bursts into my room. She doesn’t bother knocking like Alex.
I’m the only one who sees her since Alex’s head is resting on my shoulder, facing the window rather than the door.
“You’re not having a hug session without me. Tell me I’m dreaming.” She drops her bag on the floor, jumping into bed with us and making us shriek as she forces herself between us.
“Ella, please tell me you weren’t in some dark place in your mind,” she implores. “Tell me you didn’t think we’d ever see you differently.”
“Peach, you’re choking her,” Alex scolds.
“Maybe I should. For ignoring our texts all day.”
“Can’t. Breathe,” I wheeze.
She finally lets go of me, poking the side of my head. “Are you okay in there? I was worried to death. If I hadn’t been stuck in a four-hour biology mock exam, I would have called the cops. Search and rescue. The president. ”
My gaze drops to my lap. “I was scared of facing you. Both of you.”
“Maybe Peach a little more,” Alex laughs softly.
“Maybe.” Lips quirking, a chuckle escapes me.
Peach gives us each a middle finger, sending us into a laughing fit.
“So, your dad roped you in to organize illegal sex parties. I’m sure that surprised absolutely no one from Stoneview?” She shrugs. “We know you’re not some perv, Els.” Her glinting green eyes search mine. “I’m sorry that he put you through this,” she says in a calmer tone.
I nod and swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry I never told you. It was easier to ignore if I kept it to myself.”
Alex gives me a look full of empathy. “Don’t apologize to us. You never have to apologize to us.”
Peach huffs, leaving us another few seconds of silent love before revealing, “I’ve got tequila. And there are two losers downstairs who followed me home. They said they’re our neighbors. I don’t know. Weird guys.”
My heart squeezes thinking Wren and Achilles are here. They didn’t do anything wrong yesterday, but they’re not good people. I’m not sure it’s safe to have them around the house anymore. Especially if the girls don’t know who they’re facing.
“Let’s go get drunk,” Peach concludes. “We need it.”
My face falls the second we’re downstairs and turn right into the living area. Chris is sitting on one of the three sofas we have arranged in a U-shape around the coffee table. Achilles is sitting on another, and Wren on the third.
“What the fuck?” Peach mumbles. “Did we just walk into a Godfather meeting? When did you get in here?” she aims at Chris .
“When I opened the door,” Achilles answers casually.
“It’s our house, Achilles. You don’t just let strangers in,” she bites back.
“Strangers? We’re friends.”
“Oh yeah, since when? I don’t remember you ever braiding each other’s hair. You couldn’t fucking stand him in high school.”
Chris chuckles, his gaze briefly leaving me to dart to Achilles. Of course, Peach has no idea that the three of them are part—or almost part—of a secret society that keeps them close.
“Enemies-to-lovers. Ever heard of it?” our supposedly best friend replies, his haughtiness getting annoying.
“Achilles,” Wren scolds. He’s trying to act like the voice of reason, when we all know he’s only stepping in because Peach is the current target.
“Go calm down your woman, Wren. She’s getting on my nerves.”
“Seriously?” I step in. But Wren is already standing up, huffing as if Peach is a piece of work, not Achilles.
“ Not your woman. ” She takes a step back. “I will punch you, Wren,” she hisses.
Yeah, I don’t think that matters. He’s already grabbing her by the back of the neck, dragging her out of the room. Neither me nor Alex interrupts them because we know Peach doesn’t want us to. We stay out of everything that includes Wren. I think she’s too confused herself for us to get involved.
“You three are straight-up assholes,” I announce through gritted teeth.
“One of you is already getting taught a lesson,” Chris purrs. “Do you want to be next? ”
“You—”
“Okay, can we take it down a notch, please?” Alex finally says, her tone calming me down with just a few words. “We’re all friends here. There’s no need to act that way toward each other.” She pauses, to give us all a second, then softly adds, “Hi, Chris. It’s nice to have you back in Stoneview.”
She says Stoneview despite currently being in Silver Falls because we’re all Stoneview kids, and that’s just how we refer to our base.
He politely returns her sentiment, asking about her, but his gaze won’t leave me.
Unable to take the whiskey swirling in his mischievous eyes, I look down at my shorts, my eyes fixating on where my skin itches. I’m dying to dig my nails in the flesh. I want to scratch so badly I feel my nerves tingling.
When I get out of my own thoughts, I look up to the rest of the group. And while Alex and Achilles are now sitting on the same sofa, talking about the Xi Ep party tonight, I find Chris still staring at me. And once Wren and Peach come back, sharing a sofa too, I’m the only one left standing. They’ve got everything needed to make margaritas, and Peach slides to the floor between Wren’s legs, starting to cut some limes.
“Whatever, Els. The assholes aren’t going anywhere.” She blows on a strand of red hair that’s escaped her ponytail. “Just take a seat and get drunk.”
I look around the room, knowing I don’t have much of a choice as to where I should sit.
“I’m only going to sit next to you because it’s the last option,” I tell Chris. “Don’t get any ideas.”
He pinches his lips, clearly stopping himself from smiling. “I would never.”
I wish I could say I feel awkward as I sit down on the sofa and he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer to him. But I don’t. No, all I feel are butterflies erupting in my stomach as I keep my eyes on Peach’s hands while she pours alcohol in a shaker.
I startle when Chris murmurs in my ear. “Feel free to follow Peach’s example and kneel between my legs, Sweets.”
“Fuck you,” I whisper-hiss.
His soft laugh tickles my neck, making me shiver with pleasure. Sweet orange and cedar wood surrounds me, and I almost feel dizzy from it. “Don’t say fuck you to me. And if you don’t want to kneel here, that’s okay. I can always make you at the temple.”
A band tightens around my lower belly, and I squirm on the soft cushion. I seriously need to stop my body from reacting to him. I’m just not sure how to do that.
Thankfully, I have a best friend who catches our exchange, and her annoyed voice brings me back to reality.
“Ella Marjorie Baker, you better not be sleeping with your ex.”
That’s a good wake-up call. I try to push Chris’s hand away, but he doesn’t let me. Of course he doesn’t. That gigantic hand tightens its grip on my side, making me feel like he could crush me as he delicately pulls me closer. It’s always slow and steady when an anaconda swallows you.
“At least she’s sleeping with someone,” Wren mocks, pulling at Peach’s ponytail from behind. “How’s celibacy?”
“ Unwanted celibacy,” she snaps. “I don’t know why everyone’s put me on some sort of blacklist.” Looking over her shoulder, she narrows her eyes at him. “But don’t you worry, I’ll get to the bottom of it.” She mixes everything in the shaker. “Maybe at the Xi Ep party tonight. Who’s ready to pregame? ”
I throw my head back, the mention of our sorority already stressing me out.
“I should probably avoid parties until the cheer team stops trying to rally everyone against me.”
“So, you’re never partying again?” Alex chuckles.
“I’m still part of the team, and I’ll make it stop,” Peach interjects. “Who cares about the mean cheerleaders when you have such a nice one by your side?”
“You’re the only one who defended me. Fuck, if you hadn’t texted me about the new group chat they created to vote me out, I would have showed up to practice and been humiliated in front of everyone. I don’t want to see those bitches.”
Chris’s hand discreetly slips under my top and moves up my back, to my ribs, then over to the side, sending goosebumps down my arms. His fingertips graze my nipple when he leans over again. “Language.”
God, I hate when he does this to me. Just because he’s a pretend saint who rarely curses doesn’t mean I have to stop cursing like a sailor. It’s my way of expressing myself, for fuck’s sake. But Chris’s girflriend doesn’t curse. She does everything she’s told, and she acts like the perfect woman because that’s the image he likes to portray to the world.
Fuck him. I’m not Chris Murray’s girlfriend.
Peach puts a margarita in front of Alex, and then one in front of me. “We’ll just party here, then. We can watch those horribly boring holiday movies you love. Oh! Do you want to kick out the boys and bake something together? Oh, oh! Please make chocolate chip cookies.”
“You’re not kicking us out if Ella is baking cookies,” Achilles grumbles. “And if there are cookies, they’ll be double chocolate.”
“Shut up, caveman. We do what we want.” She smiles devilishly at him. “Maybe we’ll kick you out and make double chocolate.”
“Wren is right. You need to get fucked. Your asshole personality is getting worse.”
We all laugh at that. Well, apart from Peach. And when I hear Chris’s rare but oh-so-delicious, gravelly laugh…my entire being melts.
For a second, this feels like it should be. Me in his arms, laughing with friends. Then I remember Megan. And the need to anger him takes over.
Grabbing the drink Peach gave me, I down it and slam it back on the table. “ Fuck. That’s good.”
I stand up fast, making sure Chris can’t hold me back, and stride out of the room, to the other side of the entrance hall where the kitchen is. And as I do that, I shout, “I’ll make both fucking cookies. ” And I flip Chris off, just because I know he hates it.
“Uh, is she alright?” I hear Alex ask, but I don’t reply.
I can’t hear the rest of the conversation as I start focusing on baking. I preheat the oven, grab a bowl from the cabinet and ingredients from the fridge.
I’m opening the oven, ready to slide the tray of dough balls I just rolled inside, when I feel a presence behind me. I finish, set up the timer on the oven, and I’m about to turn around when two hands grab my hips, forcefully pushing me against the counter.
I try to turn around, but he grips my hair, bending me over until my cheek is on the marble countertop.
“Let me go, fucking asshole.”
“Ella,” Chris growls in my ear. “I have a secret to let you in on.” He pushes his hips forward, making sure the counter painfully digs into mine and that I feel his hard-on against my ass. “Act like a lady, get treated like one. Act like a brat, get fucked like one.”
He kicks my feet apart and makes sure to stay so I can’t close them. His fingers wrap around my forearm, slide down to my wrist, and then to my hand, leaving a trail of fiery need everywhere they touch. He delicately plays with my middle finger.
“Was it this one?”
“Seriously?” I mock him, yet I’m unable to stop the fear hardening my stomach. “Are you going to play the mob boss and cut my finger off for flipping you the bird?”
“Answer my question, Sweets.”
“Yes. Happy?”
“I will be when I make you regret acting like a little brat in front of all your friends.”
With his other hand, he pulls my loose shorts and panties to the side, then forcefully moves my hand between my legs, holding specifically on to my middle finger.
“You’re dreaming,” I groan, pushing against him with my hips to try to dislodge him.
When my wriggling doesn’t work, the panic settles in. “Chris…don’t. Everyone is across the hall.”
My voice has dropped to a whisper. We don’t have doors between the kitchen, the entrance hall, and the living room. Only large, doorless frames that separate the three different parts of the first floor.
“Stop.”
Still holding my clothes to the side with one hand, he makes me test my entrance with one finger.
“I’ll only stop if I think you’re not enjoying yourself. Your very wet pussy is telling me you’re enjoying yourself.” The rumbling vowels as he speaks low so no one hears stupidly doubles my wetness.
“I’m not.” I try to be curt, but I gasp when he circles my entrance with my own finger. “Anyone could come in. Anyone could hear .”
“You better be very quiet, then. Whisper ‘sorry, Daddy, for being such a bratty girl.’”
I try to shake my head against the counter, but that’s not an option, so I force the word out of my mouth. “No?—”
“Ah ah.” He pushes the tip of my middle finger inside my wetness, forcing my mouth to drop open. “Try again, baby. Don’t worry, we can take this nice and slow until you learn your lesson.”
No, we can’t. And he knows that. Any of my friends could walk into the kitchen.
As he pushes farther in, I feel myself contract around my finger. Fuck, we’re barely two knuckles in, and I’m already losing my mind.
“Sweets,” he growls behind me, pressing himself tighter against my ass. “Say sorry and I’ll have mercy on you.”
The awkward way in which he’s the one controlling my finger, the fact that it can’t fully be pushed in, and that it’s only one finger, is driving me crazy one thrust at a time. It’s torturously not enough.
Chris feels the exact moment I try to push against our joined hands. He uses it against me, forcing my finger out of me and holding it out of reach.
“Oh, baby, look at how impatient you are. Be a good girl for me so I can give you what you need.”
I wish I could say I think twice about it. I don’t. It slips out of my mouth naturally.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper desperately.
“What for?”
“For being a brat.”
“There she is. It wasn’t so hard, was it?”
When he slides inside me again, I have to bite down on my lip to not let out a moan. It’s not just my middle finger. He’s using both my middle and ring fingers, and the pleasure it triggers makes me shiver.
“Are you going to swear at me again?” he asks softly, forcing me to thrust my fingers.
“I w-won’t, Daddy,” I moan as quietly as I can. “Please, I need to come.”
“You do, don’t you?”
My whimper is the only answer I manage to give him. He pushes my fingers deeper, and I’m the one who curls them to reach the magic spot.
“Wait,” he commands, like giving an order to a dog he’s training. I’m trembling from need, nearly panting, so close to the edge.
“Little brats who can’t behave get tighter rules. From now on, you will only come on my fingers, my dick, or my tongue, is that clear? Enjoy the feeling of your fingers deep inside your cunt, Sweets, because you’re not allowed to make yourself come anymore. I own you, and I own your orgasms.”
Pulling my fingers out of my pussy, he slaps my clit, sending another overwhelming sensation through my body that has my knees wobbling.
“Is that clear?” he growls. At the same time, he releases my hand, and I feel him undo his pants behind me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I rasp, my head swimming from pure lust.
I’m not too sure what I’m agreeing too. I just know the tip of his dick is pressing against my entrance and I can’t think straight anymore.
“That’s my girl.” He pushes in harshly, my body stretching around his thick cock.
“Oh God,” I whimper. “Slow down, please. ”
Pulling back, he rubs my lower back. “Deep breaths. You know you can take me.”
I exhale a trembling breath, and a groan of pleasure escapes him as he sinks deeper. “There you go, doing so good for me.”
He pulls back and pushes in deeper again. In a few strokes, he’s bottoming out inside me.
Stilling his movements, he brings his hand to my sweaty forehead and pushes strands of hair away.
“I’m going to make you come on my dick, Sweets. Do you need me to gag you so no one hears you?” He punctuates his question with a short thrust that makes me whimper.
I squeeze my eyes, shame choking me. And I nod.
“Words.” Another slow roll of his hips while he’s deep inside me.
“Yes,” I moan. “Please, Daddy. Gag me.”
“My pleasure, baby.”
He takes hold of the dish cloth hanging from the oven handle, twists it a few times, and murmurs softly. “Open.”
I do, letting him put the material in my mouth. I think he’s going to tie both ends behind my head, but instead he grips them with one hand and pulls back, like holding reins.
I squeak when my head lifts toward him, and he thrusts harshly inside me. He uses the cloth as a lever, pulling a little harder every time he thrusts in and making me choke on it. Each thrust is a step farther down to a hell that feels heavenly, each moan that I swallow back is the kind of shame I’ll never be able to wash off. He’s making me see stars before he even starts shifting so that he grazes against my G-spot. He hits it repeatedly, driving me completely insane.
I can’t even breathe anymore when I convulse around his cock, my wetness dripping down the apex of my thighs, and he releases in a restrained grunt, making sure to try to be discreet about it.
He’s still inside me when the oven timer beeps, startling me.
“Perfect timing,” he purrs as he pulls out, taking the cloth out of my mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.
I feel his thick cum slipping, and he pushes my panties back in place. “Don’t touch.”
“Chris,” I complain, but the slap on my ass makes me clamp my mouth shut.
Gently holding my waist, he turns me around and lifts me onto the counter. He moves around the kitchen, filling a glass of water and giving it to me. I’m still on cloud nine, completely unaware what is reality and what is my post-orgasm high as he stops the timer, takes hold of the cloth again and folds it, using it to pull the tray of cookies out of the oven.
He leaves them for a minute, turning to me as he takes something out of his pocket. I put the glass to the side, grateful for the hydration, but I don’t know what to say to him, so I keep my eyes on my thighs.
I hear a plastic wrap being fiddled with, and a second later, he’s gently gripping my chin and pushing a love heart into my mouth.
I let it rest on my tongue, loving the sweetness.
“Why do you keep giving me these?” I ask quietly.
“Because I know you,” he snorts. “You forget to eat. That’s when you don’t skip meals on purpose to keep your preferred body shape for ballet. You don’t take good care of yourself, and I don’t want you to faint or go into shock after I fuck you the way I do. A bit of sugar only does you good.”
My heart skips a beat .
Shit. I hate that I love the way he takes care of me.
Our eyes meet as I look up. I feel dizzy from the powerful trance he’s able to keep me in. He leans down, ready to kiss me. But I pull away.
“Ella,” he growls, gripping my chin tighter. “Stop this.”
I get out of his grip by grabbing his forearm and pushing him off me. He lets me. I’m not sure why.
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel like you love me.” It’s a barely audible sentence, but I know he doesn’t miss it.
Gripping both my thighs, he settles between my legs. “Do you really think I would put myself at so much risk if I didn’t love you? Do you think I would have challenged an established Shadow the night of initiations? Risk my deal with Megan? Don’t act ignorant just because you think it’ll help you out of this. There is no way out.”
My wide eyes can’t leave his face, and he only realizes something is off after a few seconds of silence.
“What?”
“What deal?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”
“What deal with Megan?”
He takes a step back, running a hand at the back of his neck. “I said my relationship with Megan.”
Feeling like a crazy woman, I shake my head. No, I know what he said. “You said your deal. ”
“You heard wrong.” That’s all he deigns me as he steps to the side, taking a plate out of a cabinet and a spatula out of the drawer.
“Chris, don’t lie to me.”
“I said relationship ,” he grits out as he scoops one cookie after the other, putting them on the plate .
“Why are you lying?” I insist. “What risk are you taking by breaking a deal with her? And what kind of deal is it?”
“Ella,” he says sternly. “You’re getting on my nerves.”
When he’s done with the cookies, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I have to go.”
This time, he pulls a small box out of his other pocket. He stands in front of me again and places it on the counter beside my thigh.
“This is what I came for initially. It’s for you. I’m sorry you feel like you can’t go to that party since you’re not part of the cheer team. I hope you know in my eyes you have better skills than every single girl on that team combined.”
Taking a cookie from the plate, he bites into it and his eyes flutter shut. “You really do make the best chocolate chip cookies. I love them.” He winks at me. “I’m having a party at my Stoneview house tonight. You’re more than welcome to come if you don’t feel welcome at an SFU party.”
“ You ?” I snort. “Mister Boring is having a party at his house? You used to only have those for your birthday.”
His eyebrow quirks before his lips do the same. “Well, technically Jake and Rose are organizing me a party. But today is September 15 th , Sweets.”
Fuck. It’s his birthday.
“I’m so sorry I?—”
“You can make it up to me by coming to my party. Wear that beautiful silk blue skirt you own and a white top. And that pale pink gloss with it. It looks gorgeous on you.”
My heart drops, memories of my high school relationship with him twisting my stomach.
“You don’t tell me what to wear anymore. That…that was the old us.”
He smiles knowingly. “It’s us. Period. I tell you what to do, and you listen like a good girl because you love the way I praise you when you do.”
“But—”
“I want every guy at my birthday to wish they could fuck you. And then I’ll take pleasure knowing I’m the only one who gets to sink his cock in that beautiful pussy of yours.”
“You’re an ass?—”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll wash it with my cum before I leave.”
I smirk. “I thought you had to go. Aren’t you in a rush?”
“I’ll always make time for my beautiful slut.” His hand softly tangles in my hair, and he tilts my head to the side, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “Please, come,” he whispers in my ear.
Still in a daze, I watch him walk out of the kitchen. I won’t be going to his party, that’s a certainty, but I feel like a dick for not realizing it was his birthday.
I don’t touch the box he gave me until I hear the front door closing.
It’s a sky-blue velvet jewelry box, and when I open it, my mouth drops open. There’s a single string in there, and multiple little pearls. A necklace I have to make myself.
I grab the note, putting the box to the side.
One at a time, Sweets.
God, I hate that man so much it feels a lot like love.