Roar by Aria Cage

know he is a sure thing.
    “Looking good,” Mason says, as he places one hand on either side of my legs, his thumb brushing the skin of my thigh. I shiver. He thinks it’s a good sign. He knows nothing. My heart is beating so damn fast, the roar of blood in my ears is competing with the party.
    Since I didn’t make a move away from his not-so-subtle advance, he brazens up. His hands cup my thighs and rides just a little higher when Greg returns with my drink. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and the first two drinks have made me hum already. I know the dangers of that, but I need not to feel the betrayal of cheating on Nate. I never used the word boyfriend with him, and he never said girlfriend. It was unspoken that we were together. I was his and he mine. But not anymore. Not after what I’m about to do. I take the drink and gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst when, in fact, I hate alcohol. Nate once had me drink on a Thursday morning to numb me from what was to come; I was sick before Daddy even called my name.
    This time I will be smarter; I won’t wait so long before I let Mason fuck me to Tuesday.
    I leaned into him, his face inches from my boobs. He’s the same age as Nate and has the same urges, I suspect. So, I make it clear what I want. “Take me upstairs.”
    He nods, picks me up from the bench and slides me down his jock-firm body so I can feel how ready he really is.
    I’m thrown to the side, and my hip hits the bench, making me yelp.
    “Motherfucker, get your hands off her,” Nate screams. He’s screaming as he smashes his fists into Mason’s ribs and arm. Mason is cowering and trying to block the onslaught with his arm as Nate goes wild with rage.
    I’ve never seen this side of Nate. I’m scared to fucking death, and yet, I want him. How fucked up is that?! I scream for Nate to stop, but he doesn’t hear me because he is screaming and cussing at Mason. This is my fault. Again, I am hurting people.
    Nate swings back again, and I grab his arm. He is much stronger than I thought as my body is propelled forward, landing in a heap by Mason. It doesn’t matter, because it still worked.
    Horror contorts Nate’s face as he gawks at what happened. Tears brim his eyes as he sweeps me into his arms and kisses me. He kisses me so hard I couldn’t breathe. When he pulls away, he tucks his head into my neck and chants his apology, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
    “Get me outta here,” I whisper, as I hug him tight. He takes me out of the house, bumping into people until they are distant, white noise. He walks until I hear the sob that breaks my heart, and I squeeze him tighter. Neither of us says a word as he carries me all the way home. He doesn’t take me to my room, but to his, and as we reach his bed, he softly lays me on my back and begins to kiss my neck the way I like.
    Still not a word is uttered as he kisses my skin and his hands sweep under my shirt to my bra, where he squeezes. I want him to continue, but all I can think about is his words, he wasn’t ready. I’m a fucking evil person who doesn’t deserve him.
    I push against his shoulders. “Nate, no.”
    He braces above me, his eyes webbed red. “Why?”
    “Because you’re not ready.”
    He scoffs and his face twists. “But you are, huh.”
    I shake my head. “No. Yes. I am, with you. I love you. But…”
    He pushes from me and his bed, raking his hands through his hair. “But you wanted to fuck Mason. You let him fucking touch you!” he growls and swipes at the belongings on his dresser, sending them crashing across his room. I flinch, but I know he would never hurt me. I leap from the bed to hold him like a bandage to a broken bird.
    “I’m sorry. I just can’t take anything more from you. I wanted to set you free, and the only way I knew I could do that was to hurt you. I thought if you hated me, you would be free.”
    He freezes and grabs hold of my shoulders, hard. His eyes ever so dark, full of deep torment.