“Y—yes, Momma.” The front door slammed, and I quickly gathered my backpack, rushing out the door the moment they were out of sight. But I didn’t go to no bus stop. I had bigger, more important things to do.
I rushed down the back path and hopped the fence, moving quick, so the neighbor’s pit bull didn’t cause a fuss. My heart raced faster with each yard I cut through until I finally made it.
The sight of the rusted trailer with its siding held on by dry rotted strips of duct tape calmed my racing heart. He said he kept it that way, so people didn’t suspect he had anything nice enough to steal inside, which made him smart.
I knocked on the rickety screen door, and it rattled against the frame.
“Who is it?”
“Avery.”
The door flung open, and Gavin looked down at me. My gaze traveled up his body to his bare, muscled chest. He was so strong yet so delicate. “Come in.”
I quickly slipped inside and tossed my books on the cluttered bench seat. “I have the form, and I forged my mom’s signature.”
“It’s seven-thirty in the morning, Avery Dean.”
Wringing my hands, I gave him a pleading look. “Please, Gavin. The deadline’s Friday and this is my only hope of ever getting out of here. I’ll do whatever you want. I just have to get it turned in.”
His scowl softened. “If this doesn’t work, you have other options.”
This had to work. He was leaving, and I’d never survive this place alone. “Please.”
He sighed. “Go ahead. The computer’s on. Just wiggle the mouse.”
Relieved, I smiled and rushed to the back bedroom where he kept his desktop. Gavin was the only one in Blackwater who had such technology. He was also the only one I trusted, being that he’d always been tight with my oldest brother, Drew—the only sibling to ever show me kindness.
I jostled the mouse and the screen lit. There it was, the scholarship essay that was going to get me the hell out of this shithole town once and for all.
When I’d first shown Gavin my scribbled draft, he tried not to be too critical, but we were never able to hide things from each other.
“You can’t send this. Let me toy with it for a while, and it has to be typed.” He’d spent weeks helping me polish my essay until we were both confident it might win.
Most guys wouldn’t offer such help, but Gavin was different. He didn’t make me blow him or fuck him for his assistance either. He was a little more complicated than that. In exchange for his help on that essay and many other things, I let him touch me, put his mouth on me, fondle and pleasure me.
I gave Gavin what he needed, and he gave me things I never expected to want. In his home, I was free. I was powerful. I was wanted.
I scrolled through the document, noting the various improvements he’d made. Not only was his vocabulary better than mine, he had everything formatted with proper headings and all the required important information.
The essay—How My Family Changed the Way I See the World—was perfect. It was raw and honest and almost painful to read at parts, boasting the right amount of drive with plenty of hardship. Portrayed in a manner that a person would have to be a monster not to empathize with my plight. It was a beautiful explanation of hope and adversity.
“What do you think?”
I blinked up at him and smiled. “I think every time I read it, it gets better. This might actually work, and I’ll have you to thank.”
He smiled, his dimple flashing with a good amount of boyish charm. “You need my credit card?”
“You’re sure about this?” This was my only option, and I’d never be able to pay back the money.
His fingers softly brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “I’m sure.”
Gavin had become my one sanctuary. He knew what my life was like at home, had seen enough when Drew still lived here to know there was a reason each one of us counted down the days until we could leave.
Now, with just Kenny and me left, things were getting unbearable. Momma was drinkin’ all the time, and dinner was hardly ever defrosted, let alone hot.
Gavin fed me, watched TV with me, helped me with homework, he even … loved me. But neither of us ever breathed a word of such feelings out loud. I just knew it like I knew I’d never survive this place alone once he enlisted.
We filled out the application and attached the scholarship essay. He hesitated just before hitting send and glanced over his shoulder at me.
“You want to do the honors?”
I leaned over his arm and clicked. A swarm of hornets teased my insides as the computer made a little whoosh sound and the application was sent.
“Now, we wait.”
His head tilted, his cheek resting on my hip as we both stared at the “message sent” note on the screen. My fingers grazed the stubble of his jaw, and he sighed.
“You’ll get it. I feel it in my gut.”
I looked down at his face wondering where he found so much faith in me. I wasn’t anyone special. But for some reason, he always believed I was capable of great things, sometimes before I even knew I wanted them.
Sliding off the chair, he dropped to the floor and kneeled. I stepped back and looked down at him, noting the swollen bulge in his pants. He was the only one I’d ever been with, the only one I could imagine being with. And come April he’d be gone.
“What do you want?” I’d give him anything, but he didn’t want to know that. He liked to work for every concession, earn every ounce of praise. He’d make a great soldier.
His gaze remained cast toward the floor, his posture rigid, his arms behind his back and his shoulders lifting with labored breaths. “I want to touch you. Please you.”
I wasn’t sure what other people did, but this was all I knew. It was everything Gavin confessed to wanting, and his fantasies spoke to me the moment I first heard them. “Get on the bed.”
He climbed onto the mattress and rolled to his back, crossing his hands over his head where a pair of leather studded cuffs draped. He never touched me first. Everything was my choice, and he only put his hands on me if I commanded it. I went to the drawer where he kept his other toys.
He was, without a doubt, the safest person I had in my life, and it pained me to imagine him leaving, which was why I had to get the hell out of there, too. “Do you want pain?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, the sound full of palpable anticipation. “Yes, please.”
I wasn’t gentle with him, and he preferred I not be. Gavin had his own difficult demons to overcome. He sometimes said the only way to numb the pain of his past was to create pain in the present. I got that. For me, the only way to escape the uncertainty of my present was to take control of the now. Gavin gave me control, and I was addicted to the rush that came with his surrender.
If there was something broken in us, we fixed it for each other. “Spread your legs.”
* * *
My gaze lifted to the ceiling as a tear rolled from my eye, the memories fading the way precious love letters become more tattered each time they’re reread. Gavin died in action the November after he enlisted and I rarely let myself think of him.
We made a promise the day he left. We were both getting out of Blackwater, and neither of us ever wanted to look back, not even for each other. It was survival of the fittest and holding on to the past would be an anchor keeping us there.