Chapter 1
Chapter One
DOTTIE
I t was the beginning of the end, or so I thought.
I watch my classmates walk to the podium where the principal stood, with a well-rehearsed smile on his aging face.
He would have been handsome once, but I guess wrangling classrooms filled with hundreds of students, day in and day out, would have an effect on you.
Turning from the podium, I glance around the auditorium with apathy. I hate this place; I've always hated this fucking place. Maybe I'm jaded, but the lack of funding allowed into the high school left it looking like it's seen better days, but it wasn't only that.
It was the people. My mother. My father. Hell, my entire family.
I can't wait to be rid of this town, to venture out on my own and do what I want. I'm sick of looking after everyone else. I'm done people pleasing.
But then I see him amongst the chaos that's currently fucking my mind.
My step-uncle .
What is he doing here?
Butterflies scurry around in my belly; I’ve always had a little crush on him.
Right up until my aunty and him parted ways when I was thirteen, still, I couldn’t forget him even if I tried.
Swallowing the saliva collecting in my mouth, voices fade into the background as I take in my uptight aunt, who sits like she has a stick up her ass in her pink pant suit next to him.
It's a fallacy she’s trying to exude. Hell, she is a fallacy.
But Damon, Uncle Damon, looks nonchalant, poised and relaxed in his tight black shirt with his tattoos peeking out. Fucking mouthwatering.
My cousin knocks knees with me. He's her stepdad. The guy who filled her deadbeat’s father's shoes when she was only two. The man she calls Dad.
Fuck.
But I can't shake the questions. Or the disappointment.
I thought they broke up.
“Dottie,” she whisper shouts, and I roll my eyes.
“What?”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
“No.”
She narrows her peridot-green eyes on me.
“They’re about to call your name, bitch.”
Elbowing her playfully, I turn to face the front, but my eyes wander again to where Damon is sitting. Did he get hotter since I last saw him? I try to focus on the moment, but my mind keeps drifting to memories of him.
I grew up a mangy wallflower; only noticed if I could do or get my parents something. Even then I was still doing everything wrong, and the only time they gave me a modicum of attention was if I was able to give them money to buy booze or drugs.
So, I guess it makes sense that whenever I was with Arrie, and Uncle Damon paid attention to me, well, it filled a void within me that I didn’t understand until now. He was always funny and respectful toward me, and he loved Arrie as if she was his own. It made him endearing.
I glance at my aunt, again wondering what he saw in her. He is her complete opposite. He must have loved her at some point, though. Maybe they’re back together?
One look at the way they are sitting tells me that isn’t the case.
He’s here for Arrie.
Brushing my dark hair out of my eyes, I push the giddy feeling down as he locks eyes with me, his growing wide. Butterflies go off inside my stomach like fireworks on New Years Eve, and I smile shyly back at him.
I wonder what he’s doing back here after all these years? Is it only for Arrie’s graduation?
I don’t have time to question myself anymore because my name is called.
“Dorothy Wilmott.”
Forcing myself to look away from him, I awkwardly run a hand down my front, my eyes searching the crowd again before I check the small paintbrush that holds my hair up.
This time when I catch him looking at me, I notice the twinkling in his dark blue eyes as he smiles at me, and I automatically feel self-conscious.
It all happens in slow motion. One second, I’m walking and looking at Damon, the next I’m stumbling forward, barely catching myself before my hands find the podium.
A collective gasp followed by laughs echo around me, and my face heats.
How fucking embarrassing.
Righting myself, I see the principal’s lips moving, but I can’t make out a single word. The noises fade out, and I know I’m on the verge of a panic attack as my vision begins turning spotty and my heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my damn chest.
Arrie is by my side in an instant, snatching whatever the principal has in his hand from him before ushering me off the stage. I risk a glance over my shoulder and lock eyes with Damon again.
Concern is etched on his rugged, handsome face. He moves to stand, but my aunt grabs his arm. I see him look down at her briefly before back to me and Arrie, and then I pass the fuck out.
SIX YEARS LATER
Sitting in my studio, in nothing but my underwear, the sun beams down on my skin through the window while I paint.
I’m not happy with it yet, but I never am.
Sighing, I wipe the sweat dripping down my forehead.
I’ve smeared paint all over my face again.
At this point, I’m sure I’m wearing more paint than my canvas.
Placing the brush in a jar filled with cleaner, I stand and sit my palette of paints on the table.
Stepping back, my hands rest on my hips as I take in the piece before me.
The cherry blossom tree is stunning, the bright pinks blending into darker tones until the entire image alters.
I haven’t done the backdrop yet, or even the centrepiece of the artwork, but the pink petals bleed into red, the flowers looking as if they are crying rivers of blood.
Rivulets run down the trunk and pool at the base into what looks like a bath of blood, the tree reflected in it, but if you look closer, you’ll see the monsters that are so clearly trying to hide in plain sight. The entities that speak so fucking loud in my mind.
Huffing, I turn away from the unfinished piece, startled when my phone rings.
It’s Arrie’s ringtone.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, sweet cousin?”
“Are you serious right now, Dottie?”
“What have I forgotten?” I ask, wiping the drying paint from my head.
“Ummm, we’ve been planning this for a month.”
I go silent, racking my brain. That’s when it hits me.
“Fuck,” I groan.
“Fuck indeed.”
“I didn’t travel this entire way for you to raincheck me again, bitch.”
“I know, I know. I lost myself in this new piece…” I trail off, looking over my shoulder at the painting.
“I can’t wait to see it.” Arrie says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
She’s been my biggest support, not only for following my passion as an artist; but for everything. She is my cousin, my best friend, my anchor. I absentmindedly rub the matching anchor tattoo we have on our forearms.
“Maybe I don’t want to show you yet?” I sass, because there is a part of me that doesn’t want to reveal it to anyone until I am happy with it.
“Ha! Like you have a choice, bitch. I’ll be there in an hour. Get your sweet ass ready, we are going clubbing! ”
With that, she hangs up, and I throw myself into the worn sofa with a groan. Resting my head back on the head of the lounge, I close my eyes for a few moments, allowing myself some reprieve before having to deal with… people. Yuck.
Hauling my ass off the lounge, I take one look around my messy studio, which is covered in paint equipment; easels, and furniture covered in old sheets to protect it.
I walk to the cherry blossom painting first and move it out of sight and make my way to the bathroom down the hallway to get ready for the night.
Half an hour later, I’m in my bedroom smelling like cherry blossoms and my purple hair messily curled.
My violet eyes are lined with black, my lips a deep shade of mauve, and I’m wearing a stylish pair of black short overalls with a white tank underneath.
Just as I’m about to grab my chucks, there’s a knock at the door.
I rush down the hallway, knowing it’s Arrie.
I haven’t seen her for a few months, and I’ve missed her like nothing else.
I open the door, and she is standing there with a smirk on her pretty face, her green eyes sparkling with devilry.
Blowing her blonde hair out of her face, she drops her bags and jumps on me.
I start laughing. “Get off me, bitch, you’re going to ruin my makeup.”
“Sue me. I’ve missed your sweet ass. Tell me again why you decided to move to fucking Sydney?”
“You know why.” I say, pulling away to look at her. “Come on. Let’s not waste the next couple of days talking about that shit.”
She nods in acquiesce, picks up her bags, and walks in.
Leaving me in the lounge area, Arrie moves through the house and toward my room, no doubt dumping her bags on the floor.
Fifteen minutes later, she finds me in the kitchen, wearing a small green dress and black platform sandals.
She looks breathtaking as usual, her natural beauty only highlighted by some eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss.
Hitting my hip with hers, she sidles up and grabs the glass of margarita I just finished making for her. Turning away from me, she rests her ass on the kitchen counter and takes a sip. Her eyes close in bliss.
After a couple of seconds, she opens them and pins me with a stare.
“So, have you let that punani out to play yet?” She drawls, smirking and pointing to my crotch.
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
I grin at her because it’s true.
“What about you? Are you and Adam back together?”
Her face falls and I grimace.
“Sorry.”
“It’s ok. It’s over, Dottie.”
“You’ve been saying that for five years.”
“This time it really is,” she says, her eyes deviating from mine as she takes another sip.
“You’re engaged.”
“Was.” She holds up her hand and I notice the engagement ring missing.
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
She half laughs, but it sounds like a sob as well.
“I asked him if he would share me, Dottie. Fucking share me. What was I thinking?”
“Oh, babe. I thought you said he was open to it?”
“He was.”
“I sense there is a but here?”
She hesitates, and I raise an eyebrow. Adam and Arrie only broke up last week, and with my head stuck in the clouds painting, and her busy running her successful restaurant, we haven’t spoken much.
“Don’t judge me,” she points at me with a manicured dark green painted finger before sculling her drink. “I asked him if we could invite Connor.”
I spit the margarita I just sipped back in my glass.
“See!” she whines.
“His best friend Connor? Like the Connor we went to school with, and who co-owns his building company with?”
“The one and only.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
“I thought you hated him?”
She blushes. Arrie doesn’t blush.
“What the hell happened? Spill it, bitch.”
Gnawing on her lip, she glances up at me, and I can see her cycling through the best way to explain whatever the shit was that happened with the three of them. Connor and Adam have been inseparable since I’ve known them, so Arrie suggesting this could have very well put a wedge between them.
“I’m going to need another drink.”
I finish the rest of mine and make us another before moving toward the small two-seater dining table. Placing the glasses down, I cross my legs and lean back with a raised eyebrow.
“Spill.”
Releasing a sigh, she walks over and takes a seat. “Ok. So, remember how I told you we went to that Post Malone concert a couple of weeks ago?”
“Uh hum...”
“Well, we partied on after.”
“As you do.”
“We ended back at Connor’s because his place was closer. It was a great night, and for once Connor and I weren’t at each other’s throats. Anyway, I excused myself to go to the bathroom and found a G-string sitting on top of the hamper, so I grabbed it.”
I screw my face up.
“Someone else’s dirty coochie had been in that, Arrie.”
She laughs and covers her face with her hands.
Oh, this is going to be good.
“What happened next?”
“I put them on.”
“You what?!” I laugh.
“Over my shorts, bitch,” she says, smirking at me.
“Walked out there with them on, and Connor noticed straight away. He tackled and wrestled me, and we were rolling around on the floor laughing. Adam watched on, chuckling away, and when Connor finally overpowered me, his hands pinning mine above my head, I felt what it was doing to him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was looking at me with so much intensity, and Dottie, fuck me swinging, he was hard.”
“No way,” I say, sitting forward and taking a sip of my drink.
“I may have thrust my hips up, marginally… Adam noticed, and he came around the front of us, catching me biting my lip. He told me to kiss him.”
My eyes bug wide.
“No fucking way! Did you, and if you did, why am I only finding this out now?”
“I did.”
“Shit.”
“What else happened?”
“This is embarrassing.”
“Oh, hell no. You are not getting out of this. ”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
She smiles. “No, I don’t. Not even a little bit.”
We’re silent for a little while, but I wait patiently.
“They both jerked off and came all over my tits while I played with myself.” She rushes out.
“You fucking hussy!” I yell, laughing, and Arrie covers her red face.
“Shut the fuck up.”
I laugh louder then sober. “Sorry.”
She peeks at me between her fingers.
“It was so hot, Dottie. I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.”
“And the boys?”
“I could tell they both enjoyed it, but I ruined it by asking Adam what I did last week. Maybe it was that post nut clarity for him, but I should have left it as a stupid fantasy in my head.”
“I’m confused. Explain this for me. You are all naked, right?”
She nods.
“And Adam allows his best friend to jerk off to you, while he does the same, and you finger fuck yourself and they paint you with their cum, but when you asked for a threesome, he broke up with you?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m calling that asshole.”
“No, no! Dottie, please.”
Closing my eyes, I force myself to stay seated and not grab my phone to ream that prick. Opening them, Arrie and I lock eyes. Hers are glassy, and I hate seeing her upset. Leaning over the table, I wrap her hand in mine.
“I’m here if you ever need me. Fuck the distance, I’m here. ”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand. “For tonight, I just want to forget.”
“Done. Where are we going?”
“The Ivy.”
She grins at me, and I know I’m going to regret this.
I’m going to need more alcohol!