“She was right, wasn’t she?” she mused, her tone with a strange resoluteness to it. “I may still want what I want, but I have no control over people who don’t want me to have it.”
She was talking about that boss of hers who tried to tell her she couldn’t have everything she wanted. She wanted me, and while we could fight for what we wanted, people couldn’t always be won. Or, that was what she thought. She thought I was embarrassed by her. That I didn’t want to take her out or be with her during the light of day.
Her face cracked as she smoothed her skirt over her thighs, and she folded her lips between her teeth to keep from crying, but the tears spilled anyway.
I told you I was going to hurt you someday.
She pulled her house keys from her bag, and removed one key from the ring, dropping it in the cupholder.
“Just keep it,” she said. “I like thinking you might come back some day.”
And then she climbed out of the car and found her way into the lit-up house, closing the door behind her.
I dropped my eyes, gripping the steering wheel and staring at the key like it was a goddamn drug. I wanted it. I knew I would use it.
I wanted to use it this second.
Goddamn her.
I drove off, careful to keep my speed low and my lights off, and as I turned onto the highway, I turned up the music, kicked the car into third gear and then punched into fifth.
But then I blinked, shook my head, and immediately swerved off to the side of the road, and skidded to a fucking halt.
Damn her. Shit!
What the fuck?
What was she doing to me?
Where was my head?
I’d rolled through the past two years, watching her from a distance, knowing that she would be my heroin and knowing that my obsession was a no-win situation when I got to her again.
I wanted to be with her. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to keep playing games with her.
But I wanted to keep her fourteen forever, too. Young and beautiful and innocent and the one place in my life that wasn’t dirty.
She wasn’t fourteen anymore, though.
She was growing into something men would want.
Something I wanted.
I looked down at the key, gold and sharp, sitting there in my console, screaming at me louder than the music coming out of my speakers, and I… I just…
I didn’t want to leave yet.
I wanted to hide somewhere dark and quiet, feeling her whispers on my lips and smelling the mint in her hair.
Fuck it.
Swinging the car around, the tires screeching on the pavement, I drove back to the entrance of the driveway and parked outside it.
Grabbing her house key, I plucked my phone out of the console and turned it on to text the guys I’d be in for the rest of the night, but I noticed it was dead. I pulled our group phone off the charger—the one we used to record our pranks for Devil’s Night—and tossed the guys a text with that one, telling them not to expect me the rest of the evening, and stuffed it into my pocket as I plugged in mine to charge. I locked my car, jogging into the property and keeping out of sight as I veered into the backyard, noticing the downstairs lights were off but a few upstairs remained on.
Walking into the backyard, I dug out the key she gave me and paused, remembering they didn’t have an alarm system last time I was here. Hopefully that hadn’t changed.
Sliding the key in, I twisted the lock, turned the handle, and opened the door, finding complete silence as I stepped into the dark kitchen.