Sierra
Chapter thirty-four
Mrs. Butler bans me from the living room after I finish eating, reminding me I need to rest, and the couch isn’t the place to do that.
I’m tired as hell and decide it is just best to do as she says.
Stepping into the room, I pick my phone up off the dresser and carry it to the bed with me, powering it on once I’m situated.
Hesitating for a moment, I clutch the phone to my ear and call Rico. It rings and I expect the voicemail to pick up, but instead, a breathless Rico does.
“What’s wrong, Lilac?” His voice is hoarse and raspy.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” I should have known he’d be asleep since he stays at the club long after it closes. The only reason I know is that he's waited with me for an Uber a couple of times before Cyrus started taking me home.
“Yeah, but that’s beside the point. You’re supposed to be resting. Where’s Cyrus? He's not supposed to leave you alone!” His voice grows angrier as he speaks.
“I-I-I’m not alone. My neighbor is here.
Cyrus went to get some clothes and a lock for my door,” I stammer out, not oblivious to the concern he’s showing.
“I just wanted to see if that person still wanted the private dance? If he can wait until I’m…
better, then I’ll do it.” The need to make back some of the money lost is overwhelming.
I need this job to keep a roof over our heads, lights on, and food for Sam to eat.
“I can check, but are you sure? You know if you need anything, anything at all, you just need to ask.”
No, I didn’t know that, but even if I did, I don’t think I could or would. “Yeah, I’m sure, Rico, and thank you. For this and the pain meds and just everything. I’ll let you go. Bye,” I rush out awkwardly before quickly ending the call, not giving him a chance to say anything else.
My stomach is in knots, and I feel like I’m about to vomit. Why? I have no fucking clue other than knowing I’m going to be dancing alone in a room of strangers. And why does Rico have this need to take care of me? Does he want to be with me? He’s never given me that impression.
My eyes latch back on my phone just as a couple of messages come in.
Zanders#1: Sierra. Where are you? Are you okay? Please answer me.
Zanders#1: I’m worried…
God, this guy. What do I say, though? Yeah, just got beat up by my aunt's man of the day while she stole all the money I made stripping. If that doesn’t send him running for the hills, I don’t know what will.
He’s been insistent in his texts, though, ever since Saturday night. Normally, I would message him when I got home from work, giving him some random excuse about why I was up so late. But that didn’t happen. No, instead something else did.
If I don’t answer, he’s just going to keep messaging and calling.
My chest feels like there’s a weight on it, crushing it, making it hard to breathe.
Who am I kidding? I should cut ties now, just let them go because once they know what I do, they’ll never want to talk to me again.
Their father will just see me as a slut who’s corrupting his children.
But as much as I want to, I can't. They’ve become more to me than just classmates. When I’m away from them, I wonder what they’re doing, much like I am right now with Cyrus. Why would he want some high school girl when he could have a sophisticated college girl?
Finally, I cave, wanting to give them some peace of mind and also selfishly hold on to them for a little longer.
Me: Sorry. Sick, not feeling well.
God, I hope that appeases them for now. My only saving grace is they don’t know my exact apartment number, so they can’t show up on my doorstep.
Turning my phone back off, I set it down on the bed beside me and pull the comforter up. Burrowing into it, I allow myself to drift off to sleep.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when a hand pushes the hair away from my face and I panic. Sweat beads on my forehead and I jerk back. A voice is talking to me, but it sounds like I’m in an air tunnel and I can’t make it out.
“Lilac, baby. Please, come on Sierra, it’s me, Cyrus. Come back to me, baby.” His voice finally breaks through the haze, and I realize I’m safe. No one is going to hurt me.
“Cyrus,” I cry, reaching out, and wrapping my arms around him, ignoring the pain. The need to be close to him, to know I’m protected, takes over. “It’s you, I’m safe.” My voice comes out muffled against his neck.
“Yeah, baby. I’m never going to let anyone do this to you again. I promise you,” he murmurs into my ear as he lets his hands stroke along the back of my head over my hair.
We sit like that; him holding me, comforting me while I sob into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears.
The way I’m feeling right now is how I want to feel for the rest of my life.
Except it seems something is absent. Like someone is missing.
They are missing. Could they- would they - all be okay with sharing me?
I can’t focus or worry about that, not until I have custody of Sam.
Then, and only then, will I think of having anything romantic with anyone.
Once the tears stop, I pull away from him, sniffling, “I’m sorry for getting you all wet.”
Cyrus lifts his hand, allowing the tips of his fingers to glide along my cheek before tracing over my lips. “Oh Sierra, you can make anything wet on me anytime you want. I can’t wait for the day that I can make you wet, sloppy wet.” His tongue snakes out of his mouth and glides over his lips.
Fuck, he’s succeeded, because all I can feel is the warmth pooling in my panties and I know if he was to look now, he’d find them drenched with my arousal for him.
“Now stay here and rest. I’m going to fix us some sandwiches and warm up the soup Mrs. Butler dropped off yesterday. Then once we’ve eaten, I’m going to help you take a bath and then you can take a nap while I work on changing the lock.”
“Okay.” One word. Yet it means so much.
Wesley
Zan and Brax are pissing me the fuck off over Sierra.
They moped around like wet cats until Zan got the message from her that she was sick.
You’d think they’d get their heads out of their asses, especially with how she acted at their house on Saturday.
Seems like Colt is the only one with any common sense.
Sitting here listening to this boring ass teacher drone on and on about equations has me falling asleep.
The only thing I’m concerned with at the moment is finding out who this stripper is that Dad’s salivating over.
Once I do, I’m going to pay her a little visit and politely persuade her to look for another man with some money to live off of.
No fucking way is my dad kicking Mom to the curb to make a damn stripper my new step mommy.
“Mr. Johnson, Mr. Johnson.” I hear someone talking, but it doesn't phase me. I’m too busy thinking about my dad and the gold digger.
It isn’t until Jack nudges me in the arm, whispering, “Dude, the teacher’s been calling you,” that I register who is calling my name.
“Yes, Mr. Mulvaney.”
“Well, let's all give Mr. Smith a round of applause for gaining your attention when I couldn’t. Mr. Stevenson would like to see you in his office. Since we only have about fifteen minutes left in class, go ahead and take your stuff with you.”
“Yes, sir.” Looking over at Jack, I see him giving me a shit-eating grin as I close my trigonometry book and grab my book bag from the floor.
“See you at lunch, man,” Jack says just as the teacher shoots him a glare for talking in class.
What the fuck could the guidance counselor want from me? Hell, he isn’t even mine. I swear to god if that bitch has complained to him about how we treat her, I’ll have one of the fucking girls kick her ass. She’d deserve every punch they give her.
Arriving at his office, I lift my hand and knock. “Come in,” is called out from the other side.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Stevenson.”
“Yes, Wesley. Sierra Jones is out this week due to being sick. I know you have the last period of the day with her and when I asked Mrs. Pearl, she said the two of you were good friends.”
Were good friends is more accurate. The thought of us being friends now is laughable, but I amuse him and go along with it.
“We are, known each other since we were in elementary school.” Not a lie, well, the friends part is.
“Good. I was hoping to give you her assignment and have you drop them off. Mrs. Pearl said she could send you down a few minutes before the end of class to collect them from me.” He has a hopeful look on his face as he stares at me, waiting for an answer.
Fuck no! There’s no way in hell I’m taking anything to that cunt ass bitch. But I gotta make it look good on my part, you know, having an image to keep up and all.
“I’d love to, but I was actually going to call my dad to get permission to check out. I’ve been throwing up all morning. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t.” I even act like I’m about to gag.
“Well, then, I don’t want to put that burden on you. I’ll get someone else. Did you drive to school today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then go ahead on home. I’ll let Mrs. Bullock know and have her call your father and leave a message.”
Score! Not only do I get out of taking the bitch her assignments and it gets pawned on some other poor sucker, but I get to leave with no questions asked.
“Thank you, Mr. Stevenson.” Turning, I leave his office and head out of the school with the biggest fucking smile on my face.
With Dad being at work, it’s the perfect time to sneak into his office.
Dad keeps all his credit cards and banking statements filed in the cabinet behind his desk.
All I need to do is snoop and find out what strip club he’s going to and show up and confront the bitch.
I make a pit stop along the way at the gas station to get some fuel and something to drink.
Standing at the pump, my eyes drift up when I hear a heated debate between a woman and a guy.
The dude looks like he’s high on something and has scratch marks all down the side of his face. Guess he pissed off some woman.
“Hurry up, James. We need to get to the liquor store and then meet Chad,” the woman screeches, and I just shake my head. Fucking women these days. She looks like she would have been a gorgeous woman at one point in time, but she’s flying high on the same shit as the dude.
I finish gassing up my car, hit the alarm, and head inside. No way in hell I’m going to let the tweaking bastard steal anything out of it.
Heading inside the store, I head straight to the drinks, and low and behold, there's the crazy bitch, grabbing a six-pack of beer from the freezer. Now that I’m up close, I get a better look at her and she looks so familiar.
She has golden blonde hair, with blue eyes. She has an impressive rack on her, even though she has a beer belly poking over the top of her shorts. “Like what you see? I normally like my men older, but for you, I can make an exception,” she croons, when she catches me staring. “I’m Sarah.”
Then it hits me. No fucking way! It’s the bitch’s aunt. “Sarah, as in Sarah Jones, Sierra’s aunt. I’m her friend Wesley.”
She doesn’t know me. In fact, she’s never met me before but I’ve seen pictures of her and Sierra told me all about her. Sarah and Sierra’s mom had some type of falling out years ago over something she didn’t know. Seems it may be drugs.
“Yes, have we met?” She squints her eyes together like she’s trying to figure it out.
I cut her a break. “Long time ago, you probably wouldn’t remember me. How is Sierra?”
“How the fuck would I know how the bitch is?” Ahh, a fellow hater of Sierra. I think I’ll play along with her hatred and see what I can get from her.
“She is one, isn't she? We were dating, and she cheated on me with my brother in my bed. I caught them when I walked in on them mid-orgasm.”
She cackles with laughter. “Guess she would know how to do that with what she does.”
She doesn’t say anymore, but my curiosity is piqued. “Aren’t you her guardian? She missed school today because she was sick.”
“I am, but I don’t stay with her. Hell, I’m living it large, get the check and don’t have to take care of her or her whiny ass sister.”
Before I can question her anymore, her man opens up the door and screams out for her. “Come on, Sarah. We got to go,” then turns and storms across the parking lot to his car.
“Well, gotta go. Maybe next time.” She heads to the register, pays for her beer, and disappears out the door.
Interesting. Shit, I never would have found out if Mr. Stevenson hadn’t called me to his office. I’ll have to tell Colt all about this shit. But that’s for later. I need to get home and check that cabinet. Sierra can wait. I have the rest of this year to handle her.