Tucker Chapter, PT. 7

***

She swam up from the depths. Her body felt heavy, and her head was full of cotton. She had body aches like she had the flu. Was she ill? She opened her eyes and squinted at her surroundings. The room was dark, but her nightlight was on, orienting her in her bedroom.

She listened, but no voices drifted down the hall. Had she missed dinner? She braced her hand on the bed to sit up and felt the unfamiliar, dragging pain between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat. Had she…? As graphic images whizzed through her mind, her hand slid over her body and stilled. She wasn’t wearing a top or shorts. She was in one of her nightgowns. Her brows drew together. Was it a dream? Her fingers pressed between her legs, but there was no sticky residue. She was clean, but achy.

She threw back the covers and stared at the closed bathroom door before she tiptoed toward it. She didn’t turn on the light in the bathroom but put her ear to Jesse’s room and listened. No sound. She tried the door and stepped back to open it. Jesse’s room was dark, but the door that led into the hallway was open, allowing her to see that the room was empty. Frowning, she stepped in and peered at the bed, which was made and so tidy, she could bounce a quarter off his tight sheets.

Feeling a touch of fear that she was losing her mind, she entered the hallway. The door to her parents' domain was closed, indicating one or both of her parents had turned in. What time was it? The living and dining room were empty, but there was a lone lamp on. She peered at the numbers on the microwave, but was distracted by an unfamiliar light in the backyard. Jesse stood by the fire pit. Her heart leapt and her mouth went dry. She stared at him through the glass, heart thudding in her ears, palms going damp with anxiety.

As if he sensed her, he half turned. With the fire behind him, she couldn’t see his face, but his beckoning hand summoned her outside.

She hesitated before her need for answers and confirmation pushed away her uncertainty. She slipped on sandals as she crossed to him. He held out his arm as she neared. She took in his tender smile and tucked herself against his side.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

 She stiffened. “I’m fine.”

His hand slid down her arm and gripped. “That’s good to hear.”

She hovered on the precipice, wanting to know if what her mind was shrieking at her was true, but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she huddled beneath the umbrella of denial and let the flames of the small fire hypnotize her. She absorbed Jesse’s strength and warmth. She didn’t want things to change between them. This was familiar, comfortable, meant to be. That other stuff was titillating and mind-blowing, but also wrong on every level. It couldn’t be. Their parents were married. They may not share blood, but they’d been raised as siblings. That’s how everyone saw them and how they saw each other. They couldn’t pursue this.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something in the fire. She took a step forward. “There’s a…” She fell silent as she got a better look. Her heart lodged in her throat. “Is… is that my top and shorts?”

“And underwear,” Jesse confirmed.

She whirled to face him. “Why are you burning it?”

His eyes were a mix of blue and orange flame.

“You know why.”

She crossed her arms. “No, I don’t.”

“Every time I’d see those shorts or top, I’d think of Tucker.”

Her breath stalled. Her face drained of all color and she swayed.

“Hey.” Jesse wrapped his arms around her and drew her trembling body against his. “You aren’t okay. You should be lying down.”

Before she could speak, he picked her up and started toward the house.

“I told mom and dad you weren’t feeling well. Mom made soup and dad had to work extra, so he just got home. They both turned in. Are you just sore or do you need—”

“What did you tell them?” she hissed.

“About what?”

“About what?” she echoed shrilly. “About your bruised knuckles, about the hole in your wall, Tucker and…” Her throat constricted as she thought about what happened between them.

“They didn’t see the hole. I moved something in front of it until I can patch it up. They didn’t notice my hand, and they shouldn’t hear anything about Tucker. As far as they know, I brought you home from school, and you went to bed because you weren’t feeling well.”

He carried her into the house and settled her on a seat at the table before he made his way to the kitchen, where he busied himself at the stove. He sounded so matter of fact, so controlled and blasé, as if losing his temper and taking her virginity was nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t know how to feel, how to react. He was acting as if nothing had changed so maybe it hadn’t?

He brought her a bowl of chicken tortellini soup and bread rolls and made a bowl for himself.

“Do you want tea?” he asked.

“Water’s fine,” she said awkwardly and stared at the pills he set on the table. “What’s this?”

“Ibuprofen.”

Her cheeks heated as she swallowed the pills. Her eyes flicked to him as he ate before moving around her familiar surroundings. Everything looked as it should, but she felt different, like she’d gone to Narnia for a year and came back to find she hadn’t missed a second. But that’s what she wanted, right? For everything to be as it should?

 She glanced at Jesse. His blood splattered shirt had been replaced with a pristine white tee and sweatpants. His gold cross was on display. The memory of it swinging back and forth as he thrust inside her made her womb clench. She clamped her thighs together and blew on her spoonful of soup before she took a bite. It was delicious. She hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was now… She glanced at the clock. Just past seven.

“Do you want anything else?”

She focused on Jesse to discover he had inhaled his soup. Her mouth twitched. “No, thank you. I’m still working on it.”

He grinned at her. “Sorry, I was starving.”

**This is a raw draft of the prequel for Corrupt Idol. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.