Adversaries by T.L. Hodel

Ihad to hand it to Preston. By the time the cops showed, there was absolutely no sign of Chase or his lackeys. He walked over to the dead body, took his gun, and shot up his car.

After which, he lit the bikes on fire and drug his leg on the ground so he’d have injuries to match his story about diving behind his car.

He even threatened the girls to keep their mouths shut, though I doubted any of them would say shit. Especially after he kicked the door in to the frat house across the street and came out with a rolled-up rug, which he stashed in Ava’s smashed-up car around back.

It was unnerving to see him in action, and I grew up with the guy. Thankfully the cops bought his story about those guys just opening fire. He didn’t seem very impressed when they took his rifle, though I suspected he’d have it back by the end of the day.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Bailey asked.

I shrugged and sighed at my mayberry roommate. Bailey had her brown hair in pigtails today. Freaking pigtails. At least it matched the plaid shirt she was wearing.

She clutched the end of her shirt and swung her light eyes my way. “What do we do if they do?”

“Don’t worry, Ava has a closet full of shoes,” I glared over my magazine at Ava, who was sitting in the big pink chair across the room, twirling her hair. “I’m sure she’ll run them off.”

Her big grey eyes swung my way. “What?”

“Did you get your shoe back?”

“Oh yeah,” She nodded, “Pressy brought it back for me.”

Preston, who happened to be walking by, paused long enough to shift his gaze Ava’s way and shook his head.

Cammie leaned over and whispered, “Is there something wrong with him?”

“You have no idea,” I snorted.

“I think he’s cute.” Macy, one of the senior girls, sighed dreamily. “I wonder if he has a girlfriend?”

Have fun with that, Macy.

A lot of the guys I grew up with were manwhores. I assumed Preston was as well, though I’d only known a few girls he’d been with, and they were never the same after. Silas and Micha were the only exceptions to this. Silas’s massive cock detoured a lot of girls. And I meant Massive.

I saw it once. Something as thick as a soda can should not go in someone’s body. There wasn’t enough money in the world to make me go near that thing.

Unlike the rest, Micha chose not to sleep around. There were three or four girls he stuck to for the most part. I used to be one of them. Not because I particularly enjoyed fucking him, it was a status thing.

There was a certain order to things. Outcasts stuck together, beautiful people belonged with beautiful people, and the head cheerleader dated the quarterback, who was typically king of the school. That wasn’t the case in Ashworth. Sean Callaghan was quarterback, but Micha was king.

“Seriously!” Bailey clutched onto Cammie’s arm. “What if they come back?”

Ugh.

Tired of all their overreactions, I got up and stormed out. A couple of thugs pulled a drive-by. So what if someone got shot – which no one did. If they couldn’t handle this, the real world was going to eat them alive.

This was nothing. I stared in the face of true evil when I was four years old, and it was nothing like what people thought. The monster of the story was sometimes more beautiful than the hero. My monster had stunning green eyes…

“Hi there.”

I smacked some more sand in my bucket and looked up at a pair of bright green eyes. I liked them. They twinkled like gems on Mommy’s jewelry. Sometimes she’d let me play with her necklaces, but only if she was there and I was very careful. They were ‘spensive she said. I’m not sure what she meant, but she said the same thing about the vase I broke. I got in a lot of trouble for that.

“You’re Naomi, right?”

My nose scrunched up at him. “I’m aposed to talk to strangers.”

Mommy and Daddy told me never to go anywhere or talk to anybody they didn’t know cause strangers were sometimes bad.

“You’re Ava’s friend, aren’t you?” I nodded as he sat down on the edge of the sandbox. “Ava’s my friend too, which means I’m not a stranger.”

That made sense, I guess. Ava was my best friend, and she wasn’t a bad person. I looked up at the man’s golden hair shinning in the sunlight. The monsters in my stories were yucky and gross. This man didn’t seem scary.

I carefully tipped my bucket over and tapped the bottom before slowly lifting it up. Everything stayed how I wanted it, except the top, which crumpled apart.

“Stupid castle,” I grumbled and smacked the rest of the pile.

The man picked up one of my shovels and tipped his head. “Want some help?”

“I don’t know.” I stopped to eye him. “How come you’re at the park.”

I heard mommy talking to daddy once about someone who was here without a kid. She called him creepy, and I didn’t like creepy things.

“My son’s over there.” He nodded at a little boy chasing girls around the swings with a stick.

“Logan!” I squealed. “I know Logan. He pulls my hair.”

The man chuckled, “That’s boys for you.”

“I don’t like boys.”

“Wanna know a secret,” he leaned in and whispered, “I don’t like boys either.”

I giggled. He was funny, and since he was Logan’s dad, mommy must know him. So it would be okay to let him play with me.

“Okay, Mr. Logan’s Dad, you can help me.”

He smiled and said, “Call me Ryker…”

I roundedthe corner to the kitchen. The marble counters weren’t as nice as the ones in my house. About what I expected. Higher than middle class, but not quite top of the line. Much like the rest of the house.

The furniture was last year's line, the wallpaper was outdated, and the floors scuffed from lack of waxing. They really needed to hire better cleaning staff, if they had any at all.

Sauntering over to the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open. The hot Miami sun pouring in through the windows made me briefly consider going for a tan.

The bullet-riddled front yard wasn’t exactly appealing, though. That wouldn’t be fixed until next week. Yet another reason to hate Chase Mathers.

No one was around. I could sneak out back for a smoke. I didn’t do it often and certainly not where anyone could see–ladies didn’t smoke, but right now, I could really use one.

The idea died when Preston stepped through the back door at the same time two girls joined me in the kitchen. The girls huddled up in the corner while Preston stuck his head in the fridge.

“You got any beer in this place?”

“We’re not supposed to have alcohol in the house.”

Preston closed the fridge door and leaned against it. “I didn’t ask what you’re supposed to do.”

“I think there’s a bottle of wine over there.” I tipped my chin at the top cupboard next to where the girls were huddled.

I rolled my eyes at their giggles and hushed whispers when Preston headed for the cupboard. Their obvious attraction was so obvious it was pathetic. What really got my attention was Preston’s reaction. He didn’t even look at them.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him look twice at any of the girls here, and a few of them I’d fuck. Don’t get me wrong, on a good day, Preston was cold, but even he had urges. I wondered if this had anything to do with that frumpy girl I saw him watching downtown?

Apparently, one of the girls decided to make a move because she slowly tiptoed closer to Preston as he opened the wine and took a swig. I think this one’s name was Iris. Hadn’t really talked to either of them, nor did I care to.

They arrived two days ago and stuck pretty much to themselves.

“I have some vodka in my room.” She dipped her eyelashes, giving him a demure take-me look. “It’s not beer, but it’s better than wine.”

When Preston didn’t respond, she lifted her hand and danced her fingers up his arm. He paused, holding the mouth of the bottle against his lips as his eyes shifted to her hand.

Iris took his look as an opening. A smile spread across her face, and I internally shook my head.

“I could share it with you.”

“The next time you touch me,” he swallowed back a mouthful of wine, “I’ll cut your fucking hand off.”

A triad of emotions flashed across Iris’s face. Confusion, disbelief, and uncertain humor. When horror sparked in her eyes, draining her complexion of color, I knew she got it.

Preston wasn’t joking or threatening her. He meant every word he said. I didn’t just know this, I’d witnessed it a couple of times. Preston and Ava were twins, but Preston was born fucked up. Ava was destroyed.

“Let’s go.” Iris’s friend grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room, leaving me alone with Preston.

A scary position to some, none of whom grew up watching Ava’s mind deteriorate.

Sometimes, I thought my friendship with her was the only thing that saved me from her brother. We’d butted heads on more than one occasion. And no, that wasn’t why I was friends with her.

We had a special kind of bond, one forged in misery and blood. Not unlike prisoners of war. Ava was my best friend because she was the only person in this world who truly understood me. Not even my own parents knew what we went through.

I looked over at Preston as he polished off the bottle. “Feel better?”

He didn’t say anything, just tossed the bottle in the sink and crossed his arms. This was why we didn’t get along. Preston wasn’t the kind of person I’d have deep conversations with, but him ignoring me was just plain rude.

“Why are you even here?”

His grey eyes rolled up to meet mine. “Because someone decided to let my sister mow down a bunch of people.”

“Yeah, right,” I snickered, “like anyone lets Ava do anything.”

“If anyone had a chance at stopping her, it would be you.” He pushed off the counter and stalked my way. “Did you even try?”

“No, Preston, I begged your sister to drive into a gunfight because I had nothing better to do,” I marched forward to meet him, “like, I don’t know, live perhaps.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Naomi,” Preston puffed his chest up and stepped into my space. “Unlike my sister, I don’t give a shit if you’re around.”

Now that was an empty threat. As much as Preston hated me, he also cared about his sister. I don’t know if I’d call it love. I wasn’t entirely sure if he was capable of that emotion. But it was as close as a guy like him could get.

“Go home, Preston,” I sighed and spun for the door. “I’m sure your church girl misses you.”

That’s when everything took a turn. Preston’s fingers dug into my arm as he slammed me back so hard the knobs of the stove dug into my tailbone.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

I didn’t know what to say. The look in his eyes had me stunned. They weren’t the vacant grey orbs of nothingness I was used to, the blue fleck hidden in the pale color danced with emotion, and not a good one. For the first time in my life, I was scared of Preston Whitley.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he leaned in, getting his face right in mine, “I don’t give a fuck what you think you’re the queen of or who your daddy is. If you go anywhere near Marnie Dupire, I will gut you and leave your body on daddy’s front doorstep. Do you understand?”

His eyes narrowed in warning, which was when I shoved him back.

“Fuck off, Preston. I don’t give a shit about your church mouse,” I snarled and pranced out. “Go back home and skin her alive for all I care.”

No one pushed me around. Not even Preston Whitley. I wasn’t anyone’s victim. That vulnerable little girl died a long time ago.

‘I want my mommy.’

Ava wrapped her arms around me. ‘It’s okay, Naomi, I’ll protect you.’

‘Aww, sweet little Ava, just like her daddy,” the green-eyed monster laughed. “Self-sacrifice didn’t win him any prizes, little girl.’

I shook awaythe memory and walked down the hall to where I could hear the other girls. Excited voices and giggles filled the air, making me let out a breath.

It seemed the gloom and doom in the atmosphere had finally left. Good, I could use a pick me up.

A pick me up was not what I got. In the middle of the room, on the oak coffee table, was a large vase of lilies and daisies.

The flowers themselves were beautiful and lightened up the room. It was what Cammie said that caused my brow to arch.

“I can’t believe he sent us flowers, and the note is so sweet.”

“They did kind of put our lives in danger,” Bailey bent over and took a deep inhale of the flowers before smiling back at Cammie, “but they did save us too.”

My face dropped. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Give me that.” I snarled, snatching the note out of Cammie’s hand.

Dear girls,

We’re so sorry for the trouble we caused and are glad no one was hurt. Please know it was never our intention to put you in danger. Anyone of my boys would happily take a bullet to keep you safe. Please let me know if there is anything we can do for you. You can find me at the clubhouse in the marshes by the old amusement park.

Sincerely,

Chase Mathers

Bailey’sbright eyes sparkled at me. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“No, it’s not sweet! This asshole brought his shit to our front door, and you think a few flowers are going to make it alright? What the hell is wrong with you?”

They all stood there staring at me with wide eyes. Bailey’s mouth moved with lost words while Cammie stammered out, “Well… I mean… they weren’t the ones shooting…”

“No,” my finger flew up, cutting her off in a firm point, “don’t excuse them. Actually, you know what,” I stormed over, snatched the vase of flowers off the table, and stormed out the door.

“Where are you going?” Cammie called after me.

“To deliver them back to their owner.”

Right in his fucking face.