Hellhole

Stan slowed the Jeep down after they were out of Macy’s neighborhood and it was clear that Dalton was annoyed. He didn’t say anything, just drummed his fingers impatiently. Stan ignored him though. He was too busy texting on his phone while he drove down the road. 

“Isn’t it against the law to text and drive now?” Wes asked randomly and no one answered him. Stan finished his message, slamming the phone closed and into the center console. The rest of the ride was silent and as they reached Dalton’s driveway, he hopped out quickly, leaving Wes, Stan and Macy alone. 

As if on cue, Macy’s cell phone vibrated in her back pocket and Wes coughed uneasily. 

“Should I answer it?” he asked Stan, who shook his head. 

“Lemme have it.” Wes fished Macy’s phone from her back pocket, somehow without violating her and then handed it to Stan. He flipped it open quickly and then closed it just as quickly. “Just go ahead inside. I’ll be there in a second,” Stan ordered and Wes nodded. He started to move Macy toward the door and she cooperated, all the while trying to catch Stan’s eye. He avoided each look though and soon enough she was hustled out of the car by Wes. 

“Sorry,” Wes whispered in her ear when they reached the front door. 

“For what?” she asked him. 

He clearly his throat uncertainly and replied, “I didn’t mean to choke you.” 

“Oh,” was all she could utter. “Um thanks.” 

Wes paused unnaturally long in the doorway, still whispering in her ear. “I mean … I meant to at first … but then I saw your … um side.” 

“Its okay. Really. I’m fine.” She felt a little bit better after his apology, but really wanted him to stop talking. 

“I  mean … I knew he was hurting you … but I didn’t know like—” 

Macy cut him off. “Wes … please, stop.” 

“Okay … well just wanted to say sorry.” 

“Thanks,” she answered softly as they walked inside. He let go of her arms then and led her to Dalton’s room by the elbow.

Dalton was lounging on the bed with a smile on his face. He patted the spot beside him as Wes closed the door on Macy. 

“I’m not sitting there,” Macy promised. 

“I wasn’t asking you to sit anyway,” he told her with a wink. Dalton sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Let’s just make out, huh?” 

“No way in hell.” 

“Again. I wasn’t asking.” He smiled sweetly and strolled toward her. 

“Stay away from me, Dalton.” She backed up as he closed in. And soon enough, she was pinned to the door with Dalton standing too close for her liking. 

His hands rested on her shoulders for a moment, and then trailed down to her wrists. He brought up her arms and draped them over his broad shoulders. After that he grabbed her right thigh and hitched it up around his waist. “Stay,” he warned her as he continued to position things to where he wanted them. 

Macy was silent throughout all of this. If anything, making out with Dalton was one of the least horrible things that could happen in this room. 

Once he was satisfied with her position, his lips attacked hers and she let them. She didn’t kiss him back, just let him kiss her. After a minute though, Dalton noticed this and pulled away. “Come on, Macy.”

“No,” she growled and his eyebrows rose. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause I could easily do something else …” 

“Okay, okay never mind.” He smiled and leaned into her lips again. This time she kissed him back unwillingly. Unlike Raine’s lips, Dalton’s weren’t sweet at all, only rough and uncomfortable. They tasted like beer and junk food. The way Dalton kissed was different too. He wasn’t gentle; instead he moved his mouth against hers so forcefully, she hit her head back on the door a couple of times. But things weren’t all that awful. 

He wasn’t trying to go into her pants or up her shirt and Macy could handle that. But just as she thought those words, one of Dalton’s hands moved to her inner thigh and she flinched. No, she thought angrily.

The End

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