Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part One
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Too weak.
“What exactly makes sense now?” I managed to bite out, blowing out a breath of frustration at my lack of ability to fight him off.
“It’s a common knowledge around here that anyone who steals from me or my partner has got to be either dumb-as-fuck or suicidal,” he said, leaning back onto his knees. Still holding my wrists with one hand, he gestured with the other to the ledge I’d stood on seconds earlier. “The truth is that when I followed you up here I had my money on dumb-as-fuck, but hey, you surprised me by trying to take the final leap over there, I didn’t expect that. Almost didn’t catch you in time.” He then leaned back down and had the audacity to pinch my cheek, the way a crazy aunt would.
“So what? You only saved me from killing myself so you could have the honor?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, adding, “You should be proud of yourself, kid, ’cause nothing much surprises me these days. In a way,” he paused and looked around into the night sky, taking a deep breath through his nose, releasing it with an audible sigh out of his mouth, like he was sitting in an open field, relaxing and literally smelling the flowers. “It’s kind of refreshing. I hope those other two stupid fucks surprise me like you have, but I doubt it.” He looked back down at me and winked. “My money is staying on dumb-as-fuck when it comes to those two.”
“What did you do to Mirna?” I asked, my words as shaky as the rest of my body.
“Is that a new thing? Is that what the kids are all doing these days? Ripping people off, then pretending like they give two fucks what happens to them?”
“Please. Tell me. Is she okay?”
He chuckled, like the panic in my voice was amusing to him. He leaned down, his cheek firmly against mine. “I’m. Not. Telling. You. Shit,” he said, squeezing my body hard between his thighs, as if to prove to me that it was all it would take to crush me.
That’s when I saw it.
That thing I’d never forget that made the hair on my arms stand on end and my mouth open with a gasp.
Whenever I thought of someone who was “scary,” I thought of men from movies or books. The overly muscled type with no necks, wearing black clothes with scowls on their faces. Someone like a security guard or bouncer or biker who could warn people away with their large statures and brooding silence. Someone you wouldn’t want to cross in a dark alley, never mind a lit street.
The man on top of me could never be described that way. He was far from a brute with his lean build. And his clothes consisted of pastels and suspenders, not exactly big scary-man attire. In essence, he looked as if he’d stepped out of a page from The Notebook.
Upon first glance, the guy was about as scary as the Easter Bunny.
Until I saw IT.
It was a spark. Just a glint of depravity lurking behind his amber eyes. I saw it in the way he smiled as he held me down. I heard it in the way he told me I was dumb-as-fuck and adorable in the same breath. And when he spoke about his plans for revenge, I felt it in my soul.
It was then I knew he was capable of things I couldn’t even fathom.
Where Conner and Eric were bad guys in an obvious way, they didn’t instill in me the same kind of fear this man did.
I’d thought I’d known true fear when I’d stood on the ledge and decided to recklessly end it all, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t even known it when Conner and Eric had beat me, brutalized me, and then took turns forcing themselves on me.
Into me.
No.
I never knew true fear until I met pure evil.
He wore a smile and a bow tie.
CHAPTER FOUR
PREPPY
The night had taken a turn for the worse when I showed up to Mirna’s house on the tail end of being robbed of my fucking plants. However, I was now straddling a naked chick on top of the water tower, which was one of my favorite places in Logan’s Beach.
Shit was looking up.
Although, when I followed her up to the tower I hadn’t known she was planning to defile my sacred space by tossing her boney body off of it.
There was something about her, something almost familiar, although I knew I hadn’t met her before. I watched as she stood stark naked, with her face tilted toward the sky, and her arms out, like she was king of the world on the front of the motherfucking Titanic. She was fascinating.
The bitch was in rough shape. Bruises and dried blood patched all over her skin made her look like a puzzle missing some pieces. I’d stood there in the shadows, taking in the sight before me for such a long time that I almost missed the slight tilt of her body in a forward motion. If I was a nanosecond later in making a run for her I’d be calling for a clean up instead of sitting on top of her, caging her in with my thighs. Fuck, if she hadn’t been such a tiny waif of a thing, she probably would’ve pulled me over with her.
“Why did you save me?” she suddenly asked, pausing her adorable struggling which was getting her nowhere fast.
“Awe, thats cute,” I said, peering down into her doll-like eyes that were so dark, they were almost black.
She huffed, her small perky tits heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. So did her rib cage, which was outlined under her purple and yellowed skin. Her collarbone was sharp and so were her elbows. She reminded me of one of those starving dog commercials with the sad music playing in the background. “What’s cute?” she asked on a strained exhale.
“That you think you’ve been saved.”
“Well, I’m not dead,” she argued.
“Yet,” I shrugged. “It’s hard to get answers from a flattened corpse. Trust me. I’ve tried.”
She growled and tried to free her arms from my grasp, and that’s when I got a better look at the inside of her arms. Suddenly, it sunk in that this chick wasn’t just covered in bruises, these were pock marks. She wasn’t just some skinny bitch.
She was a junkie.
Bruised. Broken.
Vulnerable.
She was shaking like a fucking leaf, and with every tremble my dick grew harder until it was begging to be free of its khaki confines.
She gasped, when she felt me hard against her leg, “What…why?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Why? My cock only knows that I’m on top of a naked chick. It’s simple biology. Don’t feel too flattered, I once got a chubby when the lady who runs the deli tried to wipe a mustard stain off the front of my pants.” If she really knew that I was thinking about how her bruises and dried blood looked like art under the moonlight, and how I’d like to paint a line or two on her skin myself, she’d probably scream.
“What exactly makes sense now?” I managed to bite out, blowing out a breath of frustration at my lack of ability to fight him off.
“It’s a common knowledge around here that anyone who steals from me or my partner has got to be either dumb-as-fuck or suicidal,” he said, leaning back onto his knees. Still holding my wrists with one hand, he gestured with the other to the ledge I’d stood on seconds earlier. “The truth is that when I followed you up here I had my money on dumb-as-fuck, but hey, you surprised me by trying to take the final leap over there, I didn’t expect that. Almost didn’t catch you in time.” He then leaned back down and had the audacity to pinch my cheek, the way a crazy aunt would.
“So what? You only saved me from killing myself so you could have the honor?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, adding, “You should be proud of yourself, kid, ’cause nothing much surprises me these days. In a way,” he paused and looked around into the night sky, taking a deep breath through his nose, releasing it with an audible sigh out of his mouth, like he was sitting in an open field, relaxing and literally smelling the flowers. “It’s kind of refreshing. I hope those other two stupid fucks surprise me like you have, but I doubt it.” He looked back down at me and winked. “My money is staying on dumb-as-fuck when it comes to those two.”
“What did you do to Mirna?” I asked, my words as shaky as the rest of my body.
“Is that a new thing? Is that what the kids are all doing these days? Ripping people off, then pretending like they give two fucks what happens to them?”
“Please. Tell me. Is she okay?”
He chuckled, like the panic in my voice was amusing to him. He leaned down, his cheek firmly against mine. “I’m. Not. Telling. You. Shit,” he said, squeezing my body hard between his thighs, as if to prove to me that it was all it would take to crush me.
That’s when I saw it.
That thing I’d never forget that made the hair on my arms stand on end and my mouth open with a gasp.
Whenever I thought of someone who was “scary,” I thought of men from movies or books. The overly muscled type with no necks, wearing black clothes with scowls on their faces. Someone like a security guard or bouncer or biker who could warn people away with their large statures and brooding silence. Someone you wouldn’t want to cross in a dark alley, never mind a lit street.
The man on top of me could never be described that way. He was far from a brute with his lean build. And his clothes consisted of pastels and suspenders, not exactly big scary-man attire. In essence, he looked as if he’d stepped out of a page from The Notebook.
Upon first glance, the guy was about as scary as the Easter Bunny.
Until I saw IT.
It was a spark. Just a glint of depravity lurking behind his amber eyes. I saw it in the way he smiled as he held me down. I heard it in the way he told me I was dumb-as-fuck and adorable in the same breath. And when he spoke about his plans for revenge, I felt it in my soul.
It was then I knew he was capable of things I couldn’t even fathom.
Where Conner and Eric were bad guys in an obvious way, they didn’t instill in me the same kind of fear this man did.
I’d thought I’d known true fear when I’d stood on the ledge and decided to recklessly end it all, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t even known it when Conner and Eric had beat me, brutalized me, and then took turns forcing themselves on me.
Into me.
No.
I never knew true fear until I met pure evil.
He wore a smile and a bow tie.
CHAPTER FOUR
PREPPY
The night had taken a turn for the worse when I showed up to Mirna’s house on the tail end of being robbed of my fucking plants. However, I was now straddling a naked chick on top of the water tower, which was one of my favorite places in Logan’s Beach.
Shit was looking up.
Although, when I followed her up to the tower I hadn’t known she was planning to defile my sacred space by tossing her boney body off of it.
There was something about her, something almost familiar, although I knew I hadn’t met her before. I watched as she stood stark naked, with her face tilted toward the sky, and her arms out, like she was king of the world on the front of the motherfucking Titanic. She was fascinating.
The bitch was in rough shape. Bruises and dried blood patched all over her skin made her look like a puzzle missing some pieces. I’d stood there in the shadows, taking in the sight before me for such a long time that I almost missed the slight tilt of her body in a forward motion. If I was a nanosecond later in making a run for her I’d be calling for a clean up instead of sitting on top of her, caging her in with my thighs. Fuck, if she hadn’t been such a tiny waif of a thing, she probably would’ve pulled me over with her.
“Why did you save me?” she suddenly asked, pausing her adorable struggling which was getting her nowhere fast.
“Awe, thats cute,” I said, peering down into her doll-like eyes that were so dark, they were almost black.
She huffed, her small perky tits heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. So did her rib cage, which was outlined under her purple and yellowed skin. Her collarbone was sharp and so were her elbows. She reminded me of one of those starving dog commercials with the sad music playing in the background. “What’s cute?” she asked on a strained exhale.
“That you think you’ve been saved.”
“Well, I’m not dead,” she argued.
“Yet,” I shrugged. “It’s hard to get answers from a flattened corpse. Trust me. I’ve tried.”
She growled and tried to free her arms from my grasp, and that’s when I got a better look at the inside of her arms. Suddenly, it sunk in that this chick wasn’t just covered in bruises, these were pock marks. She wasn’t just some skinny bitch.
She was a junkie.
Bruised. Broken.
Vulnerable.
She was shaking like a fucking leaf, and with every tremble my dick grew harder until it was begging to be free of its khaki confines.
She gasped, when she felt me hard against her leg, “What…why?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Why? My cock only knows that I’m on top of a naked chick. It’s simple biology. Don’t feel too flattered, I once got a chubby when the lady who runs the deli tried to wipe a mustard stain off the front of my pants.” If she really knew that I was thinking about how her bruises and dried blood looked like art under the moonlight, and how I’d like to paint a line or two on her skin myself, she’d probably scream.
