Holding Her in Madness Read online

  In a last-ditch effort to save my ma from any more trouble and pain, I emancipated myself and moved down to this shit town to live with some distant relatives. Relatives I’d never met before.

  They knew my story and left me alone. I had a door to my room from outside and usually just stayed the fuck away from everyone. Well, everyone except Josh. He was a year younger than I was and was always looking up to me. Stupid fucker. I only hung out with him to keep his ass in line, to make sure he didn’t repeat my mistakes.

  After I come out of my reverie, I blink, looking around me. I’m fucking surrounded by sketches of her—Lillian.

  “Jesus Christ… This is fuckin’ worse than I thought.” I snatch up all the sketches, tossing them into the trash, and then make my way outside. After I wipe the charcoal from my hands onto my jeans, I light up a Marlboro and start heading over to Josh’s to see what the hell he’s up to. But I’m stopped dead in my fucking tracks by the blonde who won’t stop haunting my damn mind.

  “Oh, hey. You’re Leo, right?” She starts walking towards me…

  I start edging backwards, unsteady thanks to the uneven ground under my feet. I make myself stop before I bust my ass in front of this damn girl.

  “Wait, that is your name, right? I’m not making an ass out myself, am I?” She laughs but keeps walking towards me. I gotta fucking stop her. Now. I won’t be held responsible for what I do if I fucking smell this chick. If she smells half as good as she looks, I’ll fucking lose my shit and bend her over right fucking here, I know it!

  “Whoa, whoa.” I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, Blondie, that’s my name. Now turn around and carry your ass back inside. Tell Josh I need to talk to him.” I spin around and hoof it back to my room, slamming my door shut behind me, but not before I hear her little feisty ass talkin’ shit.

  “Blondie? Excuse me, motherfucker. That’s not my name!”

  I don’t give a fuck, bitch. Just go home! Quit fucking with my damn life for fuck’s sake. Go away!

  After three weeks of straight-up ignoring and blatantly avoiding Blondie, she and I crash into each other like a bad head-on collision.

  I knew it was inevitable. I knew it was going to fucking happen. Fate is just that much of a bitch, and she never leaves well enough alone.

  I see what I assume is Josh on the front porch. Really, all I can make out from here is the ember of the cigarette and the smoke wafting up by the floodlights.

  I’m laughing because there’s only one reason Josh’s ass is out here smoking alone. No…there are two. “What’s up, fucker? April not puttin’ out or is she still stuck up Lil’s ass talkin’ their girl shi—”

  Fuckin’ shit, it is Lil’s ass. I’m already on the porch before my mind registers that it’s time to haul ass when the wind blows and I catch the way her hair smells. It’s like apples and fucking lemons. Jesus H. Christ.

  That’s all it takes.

  It’s over.

  I’m done.

  I quit.

  I refuse to fight this shit any fucking more. And before ALL of this has filtered through my mind, been processed, and accepted, I hear her little red fuck-me lips flapping and have no idea what the fuck they are saying. I slap myself internally, trying to pull it together and barely catch the tail end of her rant.

  “…feel anything in my ass. However, I’d be happy to stand up and let you check that sitch out. And what exactly do you mean by the ‘girl shit’ we supposedly discuss?”

  Fuck me! YES! Stand up. Let me check out that ass, baby. If you’re offering, I’m gladly accepting, princess.

  I slump in the chair next to her, defeated. I can’t stop this even if I wanted to. I tick through all the good versus bad reasons to keep her at a distance in my head. Once I see the massive difference in the bad reasons to stay sitting here and the good reasons…I light a cigarette and try to decide if I should just say, “Fuck it.”

  Then from the corner of my eye, I see her stripping my clothes off with her eyes. I notice that her breathing accelerates and she starts fidgeting.

  Awww, princess… You really shouldn’t have shown your cards so damn soon. I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. Then I’m gonna do it again real slow so that it’s only me you can remember, only me you’ll always remember. I just clocked your ass, princess… and you will be mine.

  “All right, Lil, Lilly? Lillian? What the fuck is your name?” I ask her as I feel the old me rear his head. I can’t keep the smirk off my face because it’s just hitting me how simple this is going to be.

  Little pieces at time—that’s how you take over a woman. Piece by piece. No, it’s not in the playbook, but it is the number one play in Leo Phillips playbook. And I just laid out my first line of bait.

  “Ah, it’s just Lil. That’s what the fuck is my name.” She has more fuckin’ sass than I gave her credit for. I can’t stop the laugh that I choke on. It bursts out with so much force that it’s painful. I haven’t laughed in I can’t tell you how long, and it hurts, but shit if I don’t want her to keep me laughing.

  “Fucking goddamn firecracker too, I see.” Yep, a little firecracker. That’s exactly what she is. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know there aren’t better words to describe this little mythical creature named Lil.

  “I’m sorry. Am I not living up to your standards? What is it you’d prefer, Leo? Meek, mild, and timid? You know, like you coined me from day one? The fucking soft cheerleader, right?”

  She is fucking soft. Look at her. All that soft fuckin’ hair everywhere, all that soft, tan skin. I wonder if I’d get hit if I bit her—just a little bite.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” I exhale my drag, trying like fuck to stay in my seat and not either haul my ass or jump her little sexy ass right fucking here. “All right, so what’s up, Lil? What the fuck you doin’ out here? And when the fuck did you start smokin’?”

  “Oooohhh, now you want the Spanish Inquisition with the little cheerleader, huh?”

  Spanish fucking what?

  “What, Leo? Do you really think I want to be in there”—she nods at the house—”with them going at it? Ah, no fuckin’ thank you. So I decided to pick up smoking to prevent boredom while they bang the fuckin’ headboard to kingdom come.”

  Fuck me, she’s done it again. I start to laugh my ass off. I realize that I like this damn girl, and I’m beginning to wish I wouldn’t have stayed away for so long.

  “Fuck me, Lil!” The words just fall out. They keep circling in my head, so no one should fucking be surprised that they do. “Damn, baby, I didn’t fuckin’ think you’d be a goddamn firecracker and funny as shit.”

  And if she knew what was good for her, she’d wipe that sexy smirk off her damn face, and quick. Thank fuck she doesn’t know what’s good for her.

  She’s smiling up at me, and it does crazy fucking shit to my chest. It’s ripping me up…tearing me to shreds.

  “Well, stick around, babe. I can promise you this little cheerleader is full of surprises.”

  And now I think it’s about time to amp this fucking game up.

  Firecracker, I really hope you suck at chess.

  With a smile that I can’t keep off my face caused by the building anticipation I feel, I look at her dead in her eyes and tell her, serious as a heart attack, “That, Lil, I have no doubt of. Not one.”

  I watch as she blushes, and I feel it my gut. It makes my fucking dick twitch. “Yeah, well. So what the hell do y’all do on these hot summer nights, Leo?”

  Fuck it.

  The gloves are off…

  I walk over to where she’s sitting, grab her hand, and flick the cigarette out of her other hand before grabbing hold of it too and pulling her up to me. She won’t fuckin’ look at me, and that shit just don’t work for me. Sliding my hands from hers up her arms until both of my hands are cupping her head, I force her face to mine.

  Something… Fear? Son of a bitch, it’s fear that flashes across her face. I bring my head to t
ouch hers and keep breathing her in, watching her eyes, waiting for her fear to go away. She’s so fucking tiny, so damn short I have to crane my neck all the way down to reach her. But I refuse to move until the fear is no longer clouding her eyes.

  Once I see the last of it seep away, I ask her, “Whatcha wanna do on these hot summer nights, Lil? Huh? Wanna be with me? Wanna come with me? Wanna find out?” I don’t fucking move an inch. I’m scared to death she’ll bolt or vanish, fuckin’ disappear, and I’ll lose my chance with her.

  And she does just that—or she tries to. “I ah... I... I’m, I don’t know. I...um… Do I?”

  That wasn’t a fucking answer to my question, and it pisses me off more than anything. If someone asks a question, fucking answer it. She needs to learn this shit quick. “Lil, that’s not an answer, baby. Try again.” I’m not moving until I get the right damn answer from her. I know that makes me a dick, but I don’t give a fuck. I try to figure out where she’s at in that head of hers. “Where’d my firecracker go, huh?”

  She looks so damn unsure of herself that it cracks my heart a little bit. To be honest, I didn’t even think I possessed a fucking heart until this moment. Not the kind that feels shit or loves. I knew I had one that beats to keep me alive, but I always thought the fucker was dead other than that. Huh.

  “Ah, yeah. I mean...” Then…there she goes. Right in front of my eyes, I witness her gather her self-assurance. She holds her head up higher and it causes me to feel like something is exploding in my chest, which is fucked up. I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling… It isn’t empathy. I think it’s fuckin’ pride. “I don’t know why you’re even asking me. You hadn’t even looked at me until thirty minutes ago.”

  Has she lost her fuckin’ mind? The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite down to keep that shit from coming out. I decide to be as forward as I can with her.

  If you want truth, be prepared to lend some.

  “Oh, baby, I’ve looked. Fuck, I’ve been watching you with your long blond hair falling down your back, flittin’ around here wearin’ those fuckin’ sexy daisy dukes and those fine as hell short, somehow long-looking tan legs all summer long, Lil. Just not looking when you know it.”

  He shoots…and scores.

  A crimson blush creeps up from under her tank top, over the top of those perfect fuckin’ tan tits, up her neck, across her face, and all the way to her hairline. Now…I know I should take my victory graciously, but if you haven’t noticed yet—or listened—I told you, I’m a dick. And goddammit, I want her eyes on mine when I fucking win.

  “Nuh uh, eyes on mine.”

  Her eyes immediately dart to mine.

  Good girl.

  “Now, that’s better. Thank you, baby. Where were we? Oh yeah.” My smile is not hiding itself very well.

  Pieces. Little pieces at a time.

  And for the record, let it be documented that when I ask her, “You wanna come with me, Lil?” I do not mean by definition to go.

  No…I mean, Do you want to come with my hand between your legs, firecracker? Or do you prefer to come around my cock while it’s buried inside you?

  I watch her body shudder, her chest rise faster with each breath, and her eyelids get heavy. And I know that she knows exactly what the fuck I mean.

  “Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun.” It comes out fucking breathlessly, and now I’m hard as fucking steel. I could hammer nails with this motherfucker and I haven’t even laid a finger in her—or hell, on her.

  After I watch her debate with herself for a minute, I can tell the moment she settles the debate and makes her decision…because she turns into a fucking minx right in front of my eyes.

  “Leo, I’d love to come out with y’all. Can’t tonight. But sometime, yeah.” She presses her body up against mine, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood to keep the groan from escaping my chest.

  With the sexiest fucking smile I’ve ever seen in my life dancing across Lil’s face, she keeps her mouthwatering tits smashed up against my chest and finally gives me the answer to my question, the answer I’ve been waiting for.

  “Yeah I’d really, really love to, actually.”

  Fuck this shit. No more games, little girl. I yank her up around her waist and stand up straight, lifting her clear off the ground. Even with the hole I chewed in the side of my cheek, the fucking groan still comes out, only more as a growl.

  With our foreheads and noses still touching, she opens her eyes and smiles at me. It takes everything I have not to thrust my hips against hers. And everything past what I have not to haul her up to the nearest flat or horizontal surface and fuck the shit out of her when I hear her whisper, “Just let me know when and where, okay? And I’ll be there.”

  I would laugh after she calmly brushes her lips on mine before attempting to get out of my embrace if it didn’t fuckin’ piss me off so much.

  “Um, Leo, can you put me down?”

  You let me catch you, firecracker. Now there is no damn way in hell I’m letting you go. I keep my eyes on her until she gives me back the attention I had a second ago, my hold on her never wavering.

  Is she trying to fuckin’ play with me right now? Oh hell no, I don’t play… I’m the fucking coach.

  Once she stills and I have her full attention, I let her in on this shit. “Lil, I’m not playing with you. Do you understand me? This isn’t a fucking game. You say you are coming with me, then you are coming with me.”

  And I will love watching you fuckin’ come, baby.

  “I’m not playing a game. I know that y’all think I’m some child but y’all don’t know a damn thing about me. And Leo,” she says after she seems to get a hold of her anger, “I don’t fucking play games.” Or maybe not. Maybe she was gathering more anger…

  I let her down and pray to God the cockiness I feel inside at winning isn’t showing on my face. I try to at least cover it up with a smile, but I know that shit turns into a fuckin’ smirk. “That’s good to hear, babe. Damn good to hear.”

  After I get her back on the porch, I pull her little ass up into my lap—where she fucking belongs as far as I’m concerned. I realize I’m molding her to me but refuse to stop or even give a shit. I like her on me. I want her all over me. I want her sweat, her tears, I want her come…all fucking over me, covering me.

  I don’t know when it happened but my hand is between her legs, and it takes an act of God to stop it from going farther up her thighs and keep it between her knees. I start making circles, then tracing my name on the inside of her knee.

  “And I don’t think you’re a child, Lil. You don’t look like a child, that’s for fuck sure.”

  “Oh.” She is watching my fingers dance across her sexy, tan knee. I briefly wonder if she’s picked up on what I’m writing, that I’m staking my claim right in front of her face and I don’t fucking give a shit. I hope she knows what I’m doing.

  Getting back to business, but not enough to stop my hand from secretly branding her, I say “Okay, so I know you gotta watch Jules on the weekdays and that sometimes runs into the weeknights, so...whatcha doin’ this weekend, Lil?”

  Answer me like a good girl, baby… Please answer like a good girl.

  Without even breaking eye contact, my firecracker answers. “I’m coming with you, Leo.” Through the heavy smoke mingling in the hot humid summer air around us, I watch in fascination as she smirks and cocks her eyebrow. “Right?”

  I let the exhale of smoke pour out of my mouth with the words, “Fuckin’ bet your ass you are.” I flick my cigarette and pull her even closer into me. I settle my face in her hair and let her scent saturate into my brain, my skin, into my soul.

  We sit like this for over an hour.

  I stay up well past two in the morning fucking jamming out to ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ by GNR sketching Lil over and over. The arch of her long neck. The right side of her face in the new detail that’s now been seared into my fucking brain. I sketch the curves of
her ear and jaw line. The perfect bow of her top lip, her full bottom lip, and the little freckle above the left side of her mouth. I sketch her hands, long dainty fingers, and straight, semi long nails that are just long enough to leave a mark, to break the skin.

  I realize that I’m nearing insanity, almost completely mad. Sketching and sketching, trying to get every detail perfect. At some point, I pass the fuck out, face-planting into my firecracker’s sketches. Fucking charcoal everywhere.

  I dream about her. Lil’s holding this beautiful little blond-haired angel, a perfect replica of Lil. The little girl has her head thrown back in laughter. Lil turns to me and her smile brings me to my fucking knees.

  It splinters my mind and my soul. Pain ricochets though my chest, and then when she turns and waves at someone behind her, someone I can’t see—Because all I see is her round, pregnant stomach—I know, like I know my fucking name is Leo Ethan Phillips, like I know the sun sets in the west and rises in the east, just as well as I know that this girl is going to fucking light my world on fire… I know she’s carrying my son.

  Our son.

  Something snaps inside me the next morning when I look into the mirror and see all the goddamn charcoal smeared on my face, hands, and arms.

  I’m pissed because I let this girl get under my skin—too far under my skin. Almost to the point of madness, in-fucking-sanity, I swear.

  If she doesn’t end up fucking me up, I’m gonna do to her exactly what I do to everything—I’ll end up fucking her up.

  I hop in the shower and scrub all this shit off of me, getting more pissed as each second passes. What the hell is wrong with me? Why didn’t I just stay the fuck away from her? I don’t have time or patience for a girl like her in my life.

  I’m drying off and pulling some clothes on while I’m making my way into my room when I’m stopped short.

  All those fucking sketches are still littered around my bed, every part of her I captured perfectly.

  It knocks the fucking breath out of me and has me stumbling back and landing my ass half in and half out of my recliner. All I can do is sit there and fucking look at the pieces of her that are strewn across my bed and floor. I don’t know how long I sit there dazed.