Page 72 of Duke

“How do I know you’re not lyin’?”

He looks up at me sharply, “Have I ever lied to you girl?”

“N-no, you haven’t,” I reply softly.

“You might not like what I say, or how I raised ya’… but I always told shit to ya’ straight. I’m sorry the way everything has gone down baby girl. Shit’s been harder on me. You done with that frat boy, then?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Good,” he grunts. “He was never the one for ya’ anyway, and we all knew that. You might think I’m an old fool and it kills me to admit it, but the only man who can match you—is the spawn of that son-of-a-bitch.

“Duke?”

“Goddammit, yes. I know you’ve wanted out of this life since the minute you were born into it. Look at me, Shanna. You are much stronger than your Ma was. You can handle the club life and be the woman of the Prez. If you love him… you’ll fight for it. I know you’ll make it stick. No one is more stubborn than you, my baby girl. Lord knows you’ve had enough heartache. If he’s it for ya’ I won’t stand in the way.”

“Thanks, Pops, but Duke and I… we were over before we could even begin. It wouldn’t be right anyway, there’s probably still a warm spot in my bed where Spence was five minutes ago.”

“That boy was no match for you. You were leading him around like a pony on a lead.” He thumps his large hand on the table struggling to stand.

“You okay, Dad?”

“Oh, fuck me. I must look like shit. You haven’t called me Dad since the summer you turned nine.”

“Well, I’m still pissed about how you kept Ma away. I doubt I’ll ever forgive you. You have your side, and she had hers—but you’ve stolen my chance to make up my mind about all of it.”

“I did what I did to protect ya’.”

“That’s been your story for years. I’ve had enough. I’m done with the men in my life “protecting” me. I’m keeping Ma’s apartment in LA. It’s rent controlled and furnished. As soon as I graduate—I’m outta here. I’m done with the club, the bar and my life here with the ghosts of all the lies and bullshit that’s shaped my life. Even though, none of it had anything to do with me,” I finish turning my back to him.

Through the window over the sink my eyes track the snow falling softly to the ground. Christmas came and went and I barely even noticed. The world around me keeps going by, while I’ve been stuck on the stories of the past. I feel dead inside; leaving is the only way to come alive again. Even running the bar doesn’t give me the joy it used to. I’ve always known deep in my gut; I’d run away just like she did. I understand her in a way Pops never could. But I won’t leave in shame and scandal. I’ll go with a diploma in my hand and a plan for my future that I create for myself not dictated by anyone or anything.

Without another word, I trudge back up to my room. My bedroom often felt like more of a prison than a place of solace. I know what I need to do to break free.

I always planned on going to LA. The fact that Duke’s there too has nothing to do with it. I keep telling that to myself while trying to sleep in the bed I let Spence touch me in, while in my head—it was always Duke’s hands on my body instead of his.

Sleep has become my pain and pleasure. It whisks me away from the crazy soap opera my life has become and somewhere between late fall and early winter my grief turned to numbness.

My days return to the gray monotony they were before. Classes. Bar. Bed. I don’t cook Pops bacon and eggs anymore. He barely leaves his room. I’ve never fallen into depression, but now I know what it’s like. It’s living in the gray, every second you’re awake. I keep trying to find color again, but I can’t. I fell down the rabbit hole in my mother’s journal. Her pain became my pain. My need to know and understand her won’t let me stop even if that’s what I need to do to crawl towards the light.

But my dreams—my dreams keep me held in the flames of fire. He’s there. He holds me, promising never to let go. His hands claim my body, his powerful hips and thick thighs holding me down as he drives into me over and over again. He whispers dirty things in my ear while his finger teases through my folds, entering me.

In his arms, I’m a woman consumed by lust. Thoughts don’t matter. The world ceases to exist. All I know is that I’ll die if he stops.

“Hold on baby. I’m taking you to see the stars.”

He lowers his head. His thick beard rubbing over my breasts before he greedily takes a nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue.

My hands run down the powerful muscles of his back and grab his ass. My hips rise off the bed, needing his cock buried deep inside of me. Both of us hiss at the contact.

“I’ve hungered for you… for so long,” he rasps, entering me in one smooth stroke. He’s readied me with his mouth and hands so much; he surges through with little resistance.

“Duke…,” I groan, threading my fingers through his hair as he ruts in and out, tenderly and fiercely at the same time.

The alarm on my phone jerks me from my dream where I soared in his arms. Horny and grumpy, I snuggle deeper under my comforter. Using my hands, I seek relief. I’m slick and wet, my finger goes in smoothly. In and out, I finger myself while shutting my eyes and pleasing myself to the memory of him making me come that first time when he had me bent over on all fours in the dark supply room. I had rug burns on my knees for a week after.

One hand rises to my breasts to pinch a nipple. The pad of my finger finds my clit, pressing down hard before plunging back in.

I come in a short wave. It’s pitiful. But at least my mini-orgasm is something. I need to buy more sex toys. My hands can’t compare to Duke’s. Even dry-humping Spence made me come harder.

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