19 - James

"All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living. "

― Iain Thomas

. . .

OLIVIA WOODS

"I need to think," was all that I had said to them. They sent me home with a driver.

That was about four days ago. Today, it was the New Year.

My mom had asked me to join her in some party but I had said no and hung up instantly. I didn't like being disrespectful. I didn't get a kick out of it or something, I was just so used to not being cared for by her that caring for her felt tiring. I was a bad daughter, I knew that.

I sitting next to Georgia at a party out of the city. I didn't like parties much, but I liked to drink. I made sure to not drink too much.

We were looking at the sky, Georgia and I. Stars were visible this much out of the city. I loved it. I loved looking at the stars and the moon. There was something calming about the night sky, it was so dark and mysterious yet it felt...safe in a weird way.

"How's everything with your new best friends?" Georgia asked me, taking a sip from her can. She was drinking cola because she was going to have to take us home safely on her motorcycle. We were wearing leather jackets. She was wearing the one I had made for her and I was wearing the one I had made a few days back because I could not stop thinking about the Creeds and needed something to occupy my mind.

It was a simple black leather jacket with ivies made on it in a way that it looked like they had wrapped around me. Like they had wrapped around my mind, refusing to leave.

"I haven't talked to them," I answered, taking a sip of the bitter beer. "Don't know if I'm going to."

She looked surprised, putting her can down. We were sitting at the front steps of the moderately sized house where the party inside was in full swing. "You miss them." That wasn't a question. It didn't need to be. She knew I missed them base she could read me easily. Her blue eyes rarely missed anything.

"I..." They had scared me a little and then I had been scared because of the...intensity they made me feel. They made me feel too much. I had ruined our friendship with my lust. They wouldn't have touched if I hadn't asked. But I did not do this on my own, either.

Maybe they were happy that I wasn't bothering them anymore. Try hasn't called or texted me. I had removed my phone from silent just for them.

"They are good friends," I said because they were. They cared for me. I felt like they did. They were nice to me. They had completely transformed when they had spanked me and then they had taken care of me again.

They were not good men. I was not going to kid myself into believing that they were. Something sinister brewed in those gorgeous eyes of theirs, it was not always visible but I knew it was there. Wolves playing lambs.

In the end, they were wolves, no matter how soft they were with me. They were in the mafia, even if they were forced to be in it they were in the mafia. If their own cousin wasn't safe, who could be?

"But..." She trailed off.

"But...I don't know." I sighed. "I ruined it a little and now I don't have the guts to face them."

She raised her eyebrows at me. "You ruined it?" "Yes."

"I'm calling bullshit on that one. You can never ruin shit."

"I..." I bit my lip. "Did something with them which can't be reversed." She choked on her drink. "What did you do?"

"I'm not telling you that!" I would never tell her that. I felt myself blushing at the memory of what they had done to me.

She smirked. "Alright."

I emptied my glass in my mouth and stood up. "I'm gonna get more." She nodded.

I walked inside the house, walking to get to the kitchen through the thigh crowd drunk college students. I reached the kitchen and poured myself more beer. I would have to stop drinking soon. I sat down on the counter and watched the crowd. I was wearing a tight jeans and a oversized white t- shirt with white high heels and my hair down my shoulder. I was wearing contacts and a little makeup.

I took a sip of my beer and just then I felt someone sit down beside me. I looked up at him. "James."

James was a man who everyone who had seen him had a crush on. He was in the football team and was majoring in Art History. I had talked to him a few times and he sometimes came to teach.

James smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling as he pushed his brown hair away from his forehead. "Hello, Olivia. How do you like the party?"

It was his party, I realized. I didn't know that.

"I-It's really good," I answered, smiling.

He smirked. "Good. Do you want to dance?" He extended his hand towards me. "I'll make it worth your while."

I looked down at his hand. "I-okay." I did not know how to say no.

I put my hand in his and kept my drink down with no intention to drink more. He pulled me off the counter with too much force that I crashed against his chest, stumbling in my heels. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around me. I froze.

"So eager already." He pulled us to the middle of the living room and pulled back a little. He was touching me too much. He turned me around and

pressed my back against his front. I felt his member against me me and I froze. I did not want this. I squirmed in his grip but it tightened.

I felt his breath on my ear and I cringed. "Don't struggle," he whispered.

I should like this. "Okay," I whispered. I should like this.

I stopped struggling. My heart was furiously beating. We danced like that for a while. It was basically him rubbing against me. I should have pulled away but perhaps I was too drunk. I should like this. Any girl would be happy to have James do this to her.

But I felt weird. Not in a good way.

I ripped myself away from him and ran outside. Georgia was smoking at the staircase.

She raised her eyebrows at me, throwing the cig on the ground and crushing it with her boot as she stood up. "Who do I need to kill, Livy?"

I bit my lip. "I-It was James. We danced." "Then why do you look so shaken up?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "Because...I forced myself to do it even though I didn't like it."

She frowned. "Why would you do that?"

Because I need them out of my head.

I didn't say that.

. . .