Page 53 of Dare You to Run
“Cool. So I was thinking I’ll go grab the firewood and the stones we usually use are still in my garage. Danté said he–”
“Malik! Get the fuck out! Dagen needs to get dressed.” Hendrix’s hands are balled into fists and I can feel heat radiate off his back.
I’ve noticed that aside from being an asshole, Hendrix has a bit of a short fuse when it comes to things that anger him. It was evident after last night at the bar when he hauled off and punched a friend.
“It’s okay. Maybe you can just turn around or something, Malik.”
He shrugs and smiles as best as he can with half a banana shoved into his mouth, and turns his back to us. I make like a bullet and fire out of the kitchen so fast I’m sure Hendrix saw everything wiggle and jiggle as I went.
When I get to his room, I don’t bother putting on last night's clothes. Mostly because they’re dirty from laying in the dirt and mulch as Hendrix fucked the life out of me. Not to worry. He fucked it right back where it’s supposed to be in bed this morning.
I sort through my things to find my bra and slip on a pair of Hendrix’s sweatpants that I find sitting on a shelf in his closet. I roll the waist over and over until my feet stick out and I can walk without tripping. As I enter the main living space again, I can hear Hendrix and Malik talking, so I plaster myself against the hallway and eavesdrop on their conversation.
“What were you thinking, punching Paolo like that? You know he’s not a bad guy. He wouldn’t have made the moves on Dagen.”
“I know I shouldn’t have. It was really Danté I wanted to punch but since I couldn't, the poor guy was the unlucky recipient of my wrath.”
“What’s his deal, anyhow? He’s been a motherfucker even more than usual,” Malik asks.
“He’s still pissed about the whole darts and Dagen incident. I thought everything was cool yesterday when he called to tell me to meet y’all at the bar, but apparently it was just a bunch of shit. He knew exactly what to say to set me off. Especially seeing that I was already a hair trigger when I saw Paolo’s hands on her.”
They grow silent and I’m just about to make my presence known when Malik speaks up.
“You like her.”
“Yeah. She’s a cool chick and hot as fuck. What’s not to like?”
A small laugh accompanies Malik’s next words. “Nah, man. I mean, youlikeDagen. Enough to want to tie her up in your basement and keep her here.”
I think about being bound and what Hendrix would do to me. It’s another one of my worst nightmares and greatest fantasies come to life. My body restrained while Hendrix has his way with me. It’s a thought that shocks me at how much I want it.
When Hendrix doesn’t respond I walk a little harder than necessary, slapping my feet on the tile to warn them I’m returning.
“Now that I’m dressed, I think we can have a proper conversation. So what was that you were saying about beer, beach and bonfire?” Malik’s big, bright smile is wide and infectious.
He palms an apple, tossing it up in the air and catching it like Uncle Phoenix does with baseballs.
“That’s right sweetheart. I think it’s time you experience a Dare Night. You’ll have fun.” He takes a large bite out of the apple, crunching it.
“Do you not have food at your own fucking house?” Hendrix yanks the fruit bowl away from him and sets it down on the opposite counter. “It’s not going to be a normal Dare Night. Right Mal?”
Malik’s eyes volley between mine and Hendrix like one of us will tell him the correct thing to say. “I mean…maybe?”
“No. The correct word you’re looking for is no.” Hendrix’s voice is stern and leaves no room for debate.
“Well wait. I want to know more about Dare Night. Is it anything like the game we played, Hendrix?” Malik snorts, choking on his apple as bits fly out.
Hendrix’s face pales and I give myself an internal pat on the back for stunning him into silence. I get the feeling that not many people are able to one up this man.
“I just need to know if I should wear something better to protect my ba–” Hendrix dives over the counter and slaps his hand over my mouth.
Apparently Mr. Dare doesn’t like even his brothers knowing about his proclivities. Or he’s trying to save me from some type of inquisition from Malik that may end up in fists flying like last night. I stick my tongue out and lick his palm and when he doesn’t remove his hand, I lick again.
“Quit you little brat. Do you want Mal knowing all the details about how you got those scratches on your back?” I immediately stop with the tongue bath I’m giving his hand. “That’s what I thought.”
Malik continues to watch our interaction as he wipes away the spittle that landed all over his black t-shirt. When Hendrix slowly drops his hand and arches his brow at me, I challenge him with one of my own.
“What should I wear to this beer, beach and bonfire night? Is there a dress code I need to adhere to?”
