Tommy
My palms are sweaty as I push the FreshMart door open. The bell jingles, and dust falls over the door as I walk in.
I don’t see Didi, but I can hear Mrs. Holly yelling at her, so I bet she’s here. Mrs. Holly stops as soon as she sees me and softens, her sour lips smiling at me.
“You wanna tell your girlfriend to quit being so clumsy?” she says, walking toward the counter. “She keeps breaking my jars.”
My girlfriend. A guy could only wish. I haven’t spoken to her since lunch the other day. Coach had me training so hard for track, I didn’t have time to meet her at lunch, and she looked like she was about to cry the entire math class.
“Sorry, Mrs. Holly,” I say, throwing a fiver on the till. That should shut the bitch up and give her the hint I’m not in the mood for her to interfere.
I miss Didi so badly, and every time we take a step forward, it feels like we take a step back.
There hasn’t been a single moment this girl hasn’t been on my mind—something my dick reminds me of every math class when I watch her.
I need her to trust me enough to tell me what the hell is going on with her, and to let me see what she’s hiding under her clothes.
Even though I’ve staked my claim, I see the way Remy watches her, too. I need to get to her before he does. I don’t trust him now that I realize what he has to gain. Hell, I’m starting to not trust anyone, including myself.
My old man isn’t aware that I found out about the Order, and I need to keep it that way. Maybe Didi has a chance to live through this.
Didi’s head pops out from behind the shelf, and my breath catches in my throat when I see her and she smiles at me.
Goddamn, she’s too perfect.
I take a step toward her, and when she doesn’t cower away from me, I take another.
I scared her the other night. I’ve never experienced so much rage as I did when I saw what was underneath her clothes.
And I couldn’t ask her about it at lunch the other day.
I couldn’t risk her running away from me again.
So I went home and punched my wall instead.
Mrs. Holly interrupts our moment. “She’ll have to pay for all the accidents she’s having. She’s costing me money. Five dollars ain’t gonna cover it.”
I grind my teeth together and hand her a twenty out of a wad of cash in my pocket. “Not today, Mrs. Holly. I need her more than you do.”
Her wrinkled lips pucker. It seems like she’s going to interject, but the money speaks for itself, and when she sees the amount, she grabs it, stuffing it into her pocket.
She lifts her head as if she has any dignity left. “She still has eight boxes to get through. I had a shipment of potatoes come in.”
I grab another twenty and place it on the counter.
Greedy bitch.
Her hand covers mine before I can pull it away, her eyes flashing. She pauses for a moment, considering me. Her usual flirtation is replaced by something else, something more sinister.
“You must really like this one, huh?” she says in a hushed tone. “I remember your old man looked at a girl like that once. Mary Swinton.”
My eyes crease. “What do you know about Mary Swinton?”
Her hand squeezes mine. “That she ended up dead.” She eyes my jean pocket. “They say Shadowface got her. Peter and Mary made such a sweet couple…it was such a shame to see love like that ripped away from them before their story even got started. Your old man wasn’t the same after.”
My skin gets itchy. “Yeah, whatever, Mrs. Holly.” I ain’t playing this game with her. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mrs. Holly was aware of all the messed-up shit that happened here when she grew up. Everyone in town suspects something—or someone.
This town ain’t right.
Mrs. Holly has some dark secrets of her own. Her husband mysteriously died of a fever a few years back. Rumors say she poisoned him and took over his business.
Completely suspicious.
The investigation was abandoned by the police and media, leaving the death as another unsolved mystery in the town’s history.
She goes back to her crossword puzzle without saying another peep, and I hope I can count on her to stay quiet.
I glance over to where Didi was standing, only to find it empty.
I walk over, and she’s bent over a box of potatoes, inspecting one of the potato sacks, doing her best to act like I’m not staring at her ass.
I watch her for a moment as she moves, shifting her attention to putting the potatoes into a bin.
I could watch her bent over like that for hours, so I stay quiet, even though my dick perks up from how sexually frustrated I’ve been since meeting her.
Something’s changed… She’s moving differently than she did before—more womanly, more confident.
“Hi Tommy.”
“Hi firefly.” I walk and wrap my hands around her stomach, doing my best to avoid the belt she’s wearing. She still flinches. “Why are you avoiding me?”
She keeps her back to me, like she can’t face me. “I’m not. I’ve been busy.”
Damn.
“Busy,” I repeat. “Yeah, definitely avoidance.”
I’m not used to being avoided. No one avoids me, ever.
Girls avoid Remy, but he’s always so broody, and he scares chicks. But me? I’m like a teddy bear.
She rises, and I use the opportunity to pull her where she belongs.
I cradle her in my arms, gripping the outline of the belt beneath her trousers. Damn, why is the chastity belt so damn hot? I shouldn’t be so attracted to it, but it makes her more enticing.
“You’re right.” She sighs. “I am trying to avoid you.”
Double damn.
I lower my eyes to the floor and tilt my head. “Wanna get out of here, firefly?”
She turns to face me, keeping her body and lips close. “Tommy, I can’t. Mrs. Holly got a new shipment in. I’ll be here all night.”
I move my lips to graze her neck. “Don’t worry about Mrs. Holly; she’s taken care of.” I grab her hip before she can resist. “Come on. We’re gonna be late.”
“Tommy…what’s going on?”
I move my hands down her arms and intertwine my fingers with hers. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you home in time. Mama won’t know you’re with me.”
The puzzled expression on her face is adorable as she glances at Mrs. Holly, who is pretending she’s not paying attention. “Hold on. I need to grab some food. I can’t show up at home without it; Mama will get suspicious.”
I wait a few minutes while Didi grabs a jar of honey and a few other items, keeping it low key so Mrs. Holly doesn’t notice, even though that nosey bitch is watching everything. Once Didi’s done, we sneak out the back and hop into my car.
“Where are we going?” she asks, sizing up my outfit, and finally noticing that I dressed up for her.
I put on a pair of bell-bottoms and a plaid shirt instead of my usual Zeppelin or Pink Floyd band tee I collect and my sport shorts. I even did my hair—well, kind of. I brushed it, and that counts.
“I’m going to take you on a date. A proper date. Have you ever been to a movie?”
Her eyes widen. “No.”
I lean my arm around the back of her seat. “A bunch of us are gonna meet at the drive-in. We’re gonna see Amityville Horror. It’s supposed to be epic.”
She squints at me. “I’ve never heard of it.”
Of course she hasn’t.
Her face drops. “Is it scary? It sounds scary.”
I give her my best lopsided smirk. “If it is, don’t worry, Didi. I’ll take care of you.”
“Tommy, I don’t have anything to wear. And your friends…people will see us together. I can’t deal with someone trying to drown me again.”
I swear under my breath. Part of me wants to prance her around like a trophy, the other wants to hide her forever, so she doesn’t get sucked in deeper than she already is.
“No one is going to touch you again, Didi. I’m not going to let that happen to you. I’ll kill whoever touches you.”
Truth…
Her lips part as she stares at me, her eyes narrowing like she’s trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth. That I would kill for her. We hold each other’s gaze for a second.
Something’s different, and I still can’t put my finger on it.
Remy must have sunk his claws into her. I can sense it in my gut.
I reach into the back of the car and grab my bag. “Don’t worry about clothes. I stole some from my sister. You seem like you are the same size.”
I pull out a tight top with a jean skirt. The skirt is large enough around the hips that it should hide what Didi doesn’t want anyone to see; plus, it gives me easy access to her when I need it later.
I hand them to her. “Try them on for me.”
She plays with the fabric, her lips parting as she stares down at the designer clothes. She blinks and smiles—the precise reaction I am looking for. “Yeah, okay.”
“Here, let me help you.”
My hands slide to the bottom of her shirt, and I pause, raising both my brows, waiting for her to protest.
She doesn’t.
“Is this okay?”
She gives me a soft nod.
I glide my hands up and she raises her arms, allowing me to pull off her shirt. She’s not wearing a bra, and goddamn, if my dick wasn’t hard earlier when she was bent over, it sure as shit is now.
“Don’t peek, Tommy.”
Dammit. She switches between being a temptress and playing coy so fast, I wonder if she even realizes she does that.
I cover my eyes but peek a little as she quickly pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her tight and perky tits. Her body is sexier than I could have imagined.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
I zero in on her and, just as I suspected, she looks amazing.
She shifts, and her eyes gleam in panic as she eyes the skirt. I turn my head so she can change her bottoms in private.
While she changes, my eyes slide over to the hilt of the knife I have hiding in the backseat of my car.
The thought of hurting Didi with this knife makes me sick, but either way, this belt’s gotta go.
She slides out of the car and slides the skirt into place doing a twirly little dance. She looks gorgeous. “Tommy, I love it!”
I lean back and admire the pure joy radiating out of her. I motion for her to get back in, which she does with zero hesitation.
I lick my bottom lip at how gorgeous my girl is. “Here, I have another surprise.”
I pull out the eyelash stuff my sister wears, and a bit of other makeup girls use to make those sexy cat eyes. I’ve seen it enough on girls who wear this kind of make-up, I think I can replicate it.
Admittedly, my sister makes me do her makeup sometimes, and still does to this day, because I’m a damn good big brother.
I simply want Didi to be accepted. For one night, I want everyone else to see her the way I do.
“Close your eyes, firefly.”
She smiles and shuts her eyes, giggling when I put the mascara on her white lashes.
“How do you know how to do this?” she asks.
I frown. “Don’t move…I have to get the eyeliner just right.”
She’s trying so hard not to laugh. Her body vibrates while I focus and finish.
“Okay. Open them.”
She immediately pulls down the mirror and stares at herself for a few minutes in fascination. Her eyes beam when she looks at her reflection, almost like she’s seeing herself for the first time.
“You look sexy with cat eyes,” I tell her, grinning. “Hotter than any other girl in this town.”
She faces me and scoops her hands around my shoulders. “I’m sure glad I met you, Tommy Landry.” She kisses me and lingers her lips over mine, and I bite her bottom lip.
I hope she still likes me later.
I rev the engine, and I can’t get the shit-eating grin off my face as I peel away from the FreshMart parking lot.
I grab her hand as we drive. “Come on. The movie starts in ten minutes. We’re gonna be late.”