Brutal Boy by Selena
twenty-two
Harper Apple
Despite what Royal said about not being boyfriend material—and that I wasn’t looking for him to be—he acts like one at the clinic. And even though he’s right about me not liking to let other people help, it’s a huge fucking relief to let him take over while I’m low-key freaking out all over again. Once there are doctors poking around inside me, it feels way too fucking much like all the scenes from TV shows where someone is giving birth.
I’m actually beyond grateful Royal is there, even going into the room with me and respecting my demands for him to stand up by my head while the doctor does his thing between my legs. Royal insists I get all the things at the clinic—the morning after pill, every STD test they have, and a birth control prescription which can be filled for six months at once. He even signs himself up for all the tests without my asking, which is a relief because his penis has seen a lot more action than my vagina, and I might’ve felt too guilty to ask seeing as how he’s hemorrhaging money to pay for all this shit.
Afterwards, we go to the pharmacy, where we sit in the drive-thru line waiting for the birth control pills. “You didn’t have to pay for all six months at once,” I say. “I could have done it monthly.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Harper,” he says, rubbing his temples.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I really appreciate everything you did today. I don’t know what I would have done without you there. Thank you so much.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I mean it,” I say, taking his hand and squeezing. “You’re my fucking hero today, Royal.”
“Don’t be one of those chicks,” he says, prying his hand loose from mine and putting it on the wheel, where I can’t get it. “I hate those chicks.”
“You already hate me, so what’s the harm?” I ask, grinning at him. “And I think you like it. Everyone wants to be a hero once in a while.”
“I have to be the hero every Friday night,” he grumbles. “It’s exhausting.”
“But I bet you don’t get to be the hero every Saturday morning.”
He’s quiet as we drive up to take our turn at the pharmacy window. He may not admit it, but I’m starting to know this boy, and I think he sounds just a little less bored and irritated as he talks to the pharmacist. It’s stupid to think a boy who runs the whole school and has girls dropping to their knees to worship his dick, boys getting in line to be in his posse, and adults holding him up as Willow Heights football savior could need affirmation of his greatness. But being coveted and even admired for greatness isn’t the same as being appreciated for compassion.
It scares me a little, how well I’ve come to know him, how I’m starting to anticipate his moods and give him what he needs when he probably doesn’t even know it himself. I wanted to know all his secrets, but knowing him this way kinda freaks me out. Because I may have gotten to his heart, but while I was busy trying to find a way in, to chip away at his walls, he’d already scaled mine and stolen away with my heart.
Fuck.
I can’t think that way. I don’t want him to figure me out the way I’m trying to figure him out. I’d rather he be an asshole who only wants me for sex.
And maybe he knows me well enough to know that, because as we drive away, he thrusts the white paper bag into my lap and says, “Try not to use that as a free pass to fuck every guy in Faulkner.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Although, to be honest, I’m a little surprised you want a repeat. You seem more like the one-time type of guy. Is that one of your rules?”
“I’m the no-time type of guy.”
“I thought you were trying to make sure I didn’t feel special.”
“I fucked you, and I’m going to fuck you again,” he says. “Can you just leave it at that?”
“Whatever,” I say, turning to the window with a little smile. I wonder how long it’s been since he came. Does he do it by himself? Or not at all? That’s probably why he shot his load so fast the first time. I feel a little smug about the fact that I unblocked whatever was holding him back. I made him lose control. Yeah, it was scary at first, but so worth it.
Is that the only reason he wants to fuck again—because he thinks I’m the only one who can make him cum? Or is it more that he’s already let himself go with me, and he trusts me in some weird way, so he’d rather keep doing it with me than risk being vulnerable with someone else? Or was it some kind of dam that I broke, and now he’ll be able to cum with anyone?
Why does that thought bother me so much? I should want him to enjoy sex like a normal person. But the thought of him fucking someone else makes me want to cut his whole fucking dick off so he can never stick it in anyone else.
He pulls up at my house but leaves the engine running. His fucking car probably cost three times as much as my house—when it was built. I could live in luxury in this thing. But it’s not the car that’s making me linger another minute instead of going inside.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks. “You think I’m going to walk you to the door and kiss you goodnight?”
“I was just wondering if what you did with me… If you could do that with other people now. Like, did I unleash something? Or have you been holding back on purpose?”
“No questions,” he snaps. “And get out of my car. If I park here too long, your neighbors will probably dismantle it for parts.”
I snort and look around. Blue and Olive are sitting outside in the old woven-plastic lounge chairs from the eighties, and old Mr. Thomas is sweeping his driveway. No one else is out. “Them?” I ask, gesturing before turning back. “Why won’t you answer questions?”
“Trust me when I say that if you poke around in my business, you’ll find shit you do not want to know.” He leans across me to pull the latch on the door, his shoulder pressing me against the seat as he pushes it open. He starts to pull back, then pauses. His face is inches from mine, so close I can see the stubble growing out on his jaw, the intoxicating darkness that swirls in his eyes, luring me in, the fullness of those lips that made me cum so hard I think I cried a little. Suddenly, the air leaves the car, and I can’t draw a breath. When I tear my gaze from his lips, his follows, rising from my lips at the same moment. Our eyes lock, and my heart stutter-steps in my chest.
Royal’s fingers find my chin, gently lifting it. “Get out of my car,” he says again, his voice low and cold now. “You’re making it smell like garbage.”
I jerk away and slide out the door, grateful that he opened it for me, making the getaway easy. Do I really smell bad? We had sex and fooled around for hours last night and this morning. He took a shower afterwards, and I didn’t. Suddenly, I’m sure I smell like a swamp, and he didn’t tell me all day until now. “You’re a real piece of a shit, you know that, Royal?”
“So I’ve been told,” he says, sounding slightly bored.
“Go to hell,” I snap.
“See you there, Cherry Pie.”
I grit my teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of the last words. “So, I guess fun, sexytime Royal has retired for the day,” I say, giving him a cutesy little wave even though I’m seething inside. “If he shows back up, tell him to give me a call, and maybe we’ll do it again sometime. If this guy comes knocking, I’m afraid I won’t answer.” I slam the door, meaning to walk away with a little swing to my hips to give him something to think about tonight.
But the window rolls down, and he tosses the bag out. “Don’t forget your birth control,” he says. “When I call, you’ll have that pussy ready for me. If you don’t answer when I come knocking, I’ll use the back door.”
He shifts into gear and drives off, and I swear I can hear the bastard laughing to himself.
I turn to head inside, but Blue waves. “Who was that?” she asks, cocking her head and squinting up into the late afternoon sun.
I shrug. “Nobody. Just some guy.”
The moment I say the words, I know they’re a lie. Royal’s not just some guy to me. Not anymore. I knew I’d be fucked if we fucked, and here I am. Fucked. Right back where I swore I’d never be. After Colin, I swore I’d never fall for the sweet lies of a pretty sack of shit. After Maverick, I decided casual didn’t work for me. And with Royal, I said I wouldn’t be his dirty little secret.
And I just broke every single rule for him.
At least I know he’s breaking all his for me, too. That’s a consolation, as small as it is.
“Some rich guy,” Blue says. “A Range Rover’s like the most expensive car there is.”
“No, it’s not,” Olive says, looking up from where she’s driving little knock-off Hotwheels along the arm of her chair.
“I don’t know anything about cars,” I say with a shrug. It’s true. I don’t know how much a Range Rover costs because it has zero to do with my life. But from the way it rides, the leather seats and luxury feel inside it, I could have guessed, even if it wasn’t driven by Royal Dolce.
“I know lots about cars,” Olive says. “A Range Rover is one of the most expensive SUVs, depending on the model. When I grow up, I’m going to drive a Bugatti. That’s more expensive.”
I lift a brow at Blue, who shrugs. “Is that why you were getting all dressed up last night?”
“Yeah,” I say. “He plays football.”
“Well, fuck me sideways,” she says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her jean jacket. “Never thought I’d see the day Harper Apple was hanging out with a rich football player.”
“Oh, we’re not hanging out,” I say. “We’re just talking.”
She shrugs and lights up. “Like a Pretty Woman thing?”
“Maybe someday,” I say, unable to hide a little smile. That’s the fairytale we know. Forget Cinderella. Our kind can’t relate to that one.
Blue studies me from the corner of her eye, then hands me the pack. “You got it bad,” she says. “You’re gonna need one of those.”
“Thanks,” I say, hooking a thumb back toward my house. “But I better go shower. I feel like I smell bad.”
She cuts her eyes toward Olive. “Come talk later?”
I head inside and shower, wondering how pathetic I am right now. On the one hand, Royal had no problem hanging out with his nose all in my business for like an hour last night. He didn’t seem to mind my smell then. In fact, he kept saying how good it was, and from the way he acted, they weren’t just words. He was the thirsty bitch, not me. He couldn’t get enough.
On the other hand, no one wants to smell bad. And when you’re a girl, and you can’t do much about certain odors that everyone tells you to cover up, it sucks even worse. I keep telling myself he’s just being a dick, hitting me with the lowest blow, like if I told him his dick was small. The difference is, he knows his is fine. I don’t know if he really hates the way I smell or not. And I fucking hate myself for caring.
I emerge from the shower and go to the kitchen. There’s not so much as a single packet of ramen noodles in the cabinet. Mom’s friends must have cleaned out whatever was left of last week’s grocery haul because the only sustenance in the entire house comes in the form of warm, flat beer in half-empty cans.
I sigh and start picking up. I can’t do much about living in a shitty brick house that smells like a bar, but that doesn’t mean the inside needs to look like the aftermath of a frat party.
I toss empties, clean the ashtrays, and rub down everything with cleaner. By the time I’m done, the house is put back together, and my stomach is growling like a lion. Since the car is gone, I can’t go to the store, though, so I distract myself by sitting down at the computer. Unsurprisingly, I have several message from Mr. D asking why I missed my Friday check-in.
I close my eyes, feeling more guilty than ever as I start filling him in. Every time I do this, it feels worse than the last week. Especially now, when I care about Royal—more than I want to. But he made it clear I was just supposed to be his booty call, so fuck him. He didn’t give me a twenty-five-thousand-dollar scholarship. When he’s ready to treat me as good as Mr. D, I’ll stop owing Mr. D information about him. So, I go through the day on Friday, and the game, and the party. I hesitate before diving into the rest, but I know I have to tell him.
The stuff about Mr. Dolce will be what he wants the most. That’s the information that might get the family in most trouble, that could take them down. It’s the closest I’ve come to the beating heart of the beast. So, I keep going, because I’m a fighter and this is what I vowed to do, no matter how much it hurts me. Nobody walks away from a good fight without a few scars, badges that said you were tough enough to take the pain not just from their punches but from your own.
BadApple: he took me to his house n I met his dad
MrD: What was he like?
BadApple: Total creep
MrD: What did he do?
BadApple: Basically said we cud hook up n I should keep quiet about it
MrD: Did you do it?
BadApple: gross no. He’s like 40. I’m still a minor ffs
MrD: 17 is legal here.
BadApple: of course u kno that
MrD: Of course I do. ; )
BadApple: maybe u should stop fighting the dolces n join forces. U cud b pervy besties.
MrD: Were you tempted?
BadApple: that wud b a no
MrD: You said you’d let me fuck you, and you don’t even know who I am. I could be hideous.
BadApple: there was more 2 that
MrD: What else?
BadApple: He might be a drunk. Def a helicopter parent. He misses his daughter. offered 2 take me home today. Says he cleans up his sons messes. Maybe re: abortions???
MrD: What about Royal?
BadApple: he took me home
I’m not about to go into the pregnancy scare thing. Some things are personal.
MrD: Did you let him fuck you?
BadApple: How is that relevant?
MrD: I ask questions, you answer. Remember?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Yes, you remember, or yes, he fucked you?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Both?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Tell me about that.
BadApple: I just did
MrD: I want details.
BadApple: I’m not going 2 provide u a jerk-off fantasy. Use ur imagination. We fucked. It was good. We both enjoyed it. End of story.
MrD: Is he big?
BadApple: Irrelevant
MrD: Not how this works, Harper.
I close my eyes and take a long breath through my nose. I fucking hate owing people. I should never have done this. But it’s too late to turn back now. And telling him about a sexual experience might be skeezy, but it’s not like it’s going to hurt the family. Information about Mr. Dolce’s drinking problem is more likely to affect the family, but of course Mr. D is barely interested in that. He’d rather hear about whether I wanted to fuck both father and son.
BadApple: yes
MrD: How big?
BadApple: Idk, 4got my measuring tape
For a minute, I wonder if he isn’t Mr. Darling. If he’s Duke and Baron, and they’re fucking with me right now. Or if it’s Royal, and he’s trying to get an honest review. But no. If they knew I was telling someone all this, even if it was really them, they’d fucking kill me. I take a deep breath and wipe my hands on my jeans.
MrD: Did it hurt when he sank it in that tight, young pussy?
BadApple: u need help
BadApple: n yes. Is that wut u want to hear? About another man’s cock n how it almost tore me open at the seams, how it was deeper inside me than anyone’s ever been, n I screamed when he came inside me?
MrD: Did you?
BadApple: like a pornstar
MrD: Were you naked?
BadApple: yes
MrD: What position?
BadApple: idk don’t remember
MrD: Bullshit. I want every last detail. Give me a play by play. Let me picture it like I was the one making you scream.
BadApple: ur as bossy as him
MrD: He’s dominant then?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Did he require fellatio?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Did you do it?
BadApple: yes
MrD: On your knees in front of him or on the bed?
BadApple: yes
MrD: I’m so hard right now.
BadApple: isn’t that the point of u perving on my sex life?
MrD: Did he fuck you doggy-style?
BadApple: no
MrD: I’d fuck you doggy-style. I bet you’d look good on your hands and knees.
BadApple: amateur hour
MrD: What?
BadApple: Hands and knees. Nobody does that. It’s not the 90s.
MrD: You don’t do doggy? You don’t know what you’re missing.
BadApple: doggy but not like that
MrD: How would you want me to fuck you doggy-style?
BadApple: I wouldn’t
MrD: Then Royal. How would you like him to fuck you doggy-style?
BadApple: With his hand in my hair holding my face in the pillow
There’s a long pause, so I have to assume Mr. D is off blowing his load. I feel dirty and slightly sick. I get up and check the fridge again, debating whether to eat mayonnaise out of the jar. At least I’ll know if it’s Royal next time we fuck. He’ll definitely want to do that if he got off on picturing it. I wander back to the computer. It takes him a full five minutes to write back.
MrD: What position?
BadApple: were still on this?
MrD: You didn’t finish.
BadApple: standing, missionary, cowgirl
MrD: You rode him?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Was he good?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Did he make you cum?
BadApple: yes
MrD: How many times?
BadApple: 10
That’s an exaggeration, but he’ll never know. Unless it really is Royal…
My skin prickles with that creepy feeling again, like I’m being watched. I check the blinds, but they’re already closed.
MrD: Did he perform cunnilingus?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Was he good?
BadApple: yes
MrD: Did he get on his knees?
BadApple: no
MrD: Which do you like in your pussy more, mouth or dick?
BadApple: idk both equal
MrD: What about the twins?
BadApple: wut about them?
MrD: Can you fuck them and report back?
BadApple: um no
MrD: Why not?
Is he fucking serious? I didn’t fuck Royal to please his pervy old ass. But for some reason, I don’t want to tell him that. It’s one thing to go through the physical details, but I’m not going to tell him I actually like Royal. First off, he might pull out of the agreement. I’m supposed to be on his side. And secondly, that’s just not something I want to talk about, even to Blue, who’s the closest thing I have to a real friend. Definitely not to a pervy old dude jerking off behind a keyboard.
BadApple: bc I’m Royal’s plaything n he won’t let them.
MrD: Ah, yes. That’s right. You told me that. Well, I’ve enjoyed this report immensely. Do let me know how he plays with you next time.
BadApple: Is this just going to turn into me writing free porn 4 u?
MrD: Some people get to do it, others have to live vicariously.
BadApple: Cant u just watch porn like a normal person?
MrD: You’re so much better than porn.
Ugh, gross. I sign off and go take another shower, feeling dirtier than when I had Royal’s cum dripping out of me. Maybe I should just make shit up in advance next time. I really don’t want him all in my business, especially now. And I feel weird telling him about Royal’s dick. It works. Why does he need to know more than that? For that matter, why does he even need to know that much? Why is he living vicariously through me instead of going out to get some for himself? Even if he’s hideous, as he suggested, he’s rich. No matter what he looks like, he could hire a prostitute for a hell of a lot less than twenty-five grand. Hell, for that he could probably buy a whole sex slave on the human trafficking market.
I shiver and turn off the water, an idea coming to me as I climb out of the shower. What if he can’t hire a hooker where he is? There’s one place where even a rich guy can’t get a girl, and I’m pretty sure Mr. Dolce has sent some Darlings there. My hands are shaking as I pull on my pajamas, and it’s not just from hunger. It’s just a hunch, but it could be the answer. If I’m right, I could find out who he is. All I have to do is figure out which Mr. Darling is in prison.
He has access to his money, somehow, since he provided my scholarship. I can’t risk talking to Colt and getting him killed, but there are other Darlings in this town. Colt’s dad, for instance. And there’s another Darling boy, one who almost no one speaks of. Devlin disappeared with the Dolce sister, but what about Preston, the cousin Dixie said it was easy to label as evil? Could he help me? If I gave Mr. D the information he needs, and he really is in prison, who would do the actual dirty work of taking down the Dolces?
Does he expect me to do it? Or does he have someone on the outside to act for him?
Because I think… I really dare to hope… That I’m finally in.
Royal let down his guard. He trust me enough to let me sleep there, in his house. If I go back, I’ll have access to his father again, to him, to his brothers. He may not think he trusts me, but he’s starting to.
I unlocked something and made him cum, and now he wants to keep me. That’s exactly what I wanted—to get close. Sure, I had to give up my body and probably my heart for it, but it will be worth it in the end, when I win. Even when we’re fighting, even though we’re still enemies, something’s changed.
Royal took care of me today so that he can have me again. As long as I keep him coming back for more, I can find out what I need to know about him. I’m in his house. In his bed. It’s only a matter of time until I’m in his head, until I gain his trust and his secrets. Then, he’ll be mine for the taking down.
