Madeline Sheehan - Unattainable

The shower and shave hadn’t hurt either.

The sound of screaming had Ellie jumping off the bed in a panic. “What’s happening?” she cried, looking toward the closed door.

Danny let out a long-suffering sigh and shook her head.

“That’s Tegen!” Harley exclaimed from her seat on the bed. “She yells alllllll the time!”

Ellie glanced over at Danny, who shrugged in response. “She’s right. Tegen yells all the time and right now she’s extremely mad at my father and my brother…whatever…they are all crazy.”

Danny turned back to the closet, then suddenly spun back around. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I almost forgot! Apparently ZZ and Tegen have been living together in San Francisco! We’re like one big happy family!”

It took Ellie a minute to figure out Danny wasn’t actually happy or excited about this information but instead was overdoing it on the sarcasm.

“Are you actually upset about it?” Ellie asked. “Because you chose Ripper, right?”

Sighing, Danny sat down on the bed and dropped her hands into her lap. “This is going to sound weird, but it’s not that I’m upset. I mean, I was worried about him for a long time and all this time my dad knew where he was and with Tegen? Ugh. Seriously, it’s just gross. I mean, I slept with Ripper, then ZZ, and Cage slept with Tegen and then Tegen slept with ZZ, and it’s sort of like we all slept together.” Danny wrinkled up her nose and shuddered. “It’s just skeezy, you know?”

Ellie started laughing. “I think you’re seriously overthinking this.”

“I know,” Danny said, sighing. “But he left because of me…and now he’s living with Tegen? I mean, he must be miserable.”

Ellie laughed even harder. She didn’t know Tegen particularly well; the girl had been two grades below her, but the few encounters she’d had with her, she had to agree, the girl was very volatile.

“So, her and Cage now, huh?” she asked. “Well, that’s…interesting.”

Danny rolled her eyes. “Oh God, who knows. They are a hot mess together. He screwed her over a long time ago, then she comes back from California after D got shot, looking like a dirty hippie, and suddenly Cage is all, ‘Oh, she’s hot, blah, blah, blah,’ but Tegen’s all, ‘Don’t touch me or I’ll kill you,’ and ever since then every time they are in the same room together, all hell breaks loose.”

Ellie wrinkled up her nose. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah. Tons. Personally, I think they’re both in love with the other. I mean, Cage has never had a serious girlfriend, ever. He doesn’t have any interest in any female other than for…” Danny trailed off and glanced at her daughter. “Other than you-know-what,” she said in a whisper.

“And I wish they would just beat the crap out of each other, kiss and make up, and be done with it, but whatever.”

Danny shrugged again and got to her feet. “Welcome to the insane asylum,” she said, and went back to rifling through her closet.

That motherfucker.

That stupid motherfucker.

Looks like you turned out just like your fuckin’ mom after all.

I was livid. Fucking furious. I was past the point of angry, past the point of anything resembling sanity. What was wrong with me? First I’d come home and did what I’d promised myself FOR YEARS to never do again. Then I’d stupidly come to the club and DID IT AGAIN, then I’d actually agreed to go on a FUCKING DATE with that asshole, and THEN I came back to the club with him.

“What is wrong with me?” I screamed at my reflection in the mirror hanging over Cage’s dresser, where behind me I could see his bed. His stupid, fucking, god-awful bed. The bed he’d destroyed me in.

Wait. What the…?

I squinted at the mirror and my eyes went wide. Whipping around, screaming at the top of my lungs, I lunged for the unmade bed, for the red lacy thong lying dead center. Grabbing it, I clutched it with both hands and pulled as hard as I could. The chintzy lace gave and I sent the two pieces of fabric flying across the room.

Breathing heavily, my heart pounding through my chest, I surveyed the room.

Posters of huge-breasted, mostly naked women straddling motorcycles lined the walls, a box of condoms sat atop the nightstand, and condom wrappers littered the floor beside his bed.

How many had come before me? How many fucking whores had he fucked in that bed before he’d taken away the only thing that I’d had to give him and he hadn’t even cared?

And how many women had come after me?

How many more women were still to come?

“Stupid!” I screamed. “You stupid, stupid, stupid bitch!”

I snatched the box of condoms off the table and whipped them across the room. Then I grabbed for the bedcovers and the pillows and I did the same. After that, I couldn’t stop; everything I came into contact with was instantly torn apart, shredded, or smashed. I ripped posters off the wall, yanked drawers out of the dresser, sent clothing flying in all directions, and then when there was nothing left to destroy, I grabbed a gun from Cage’s sock drawer, was about to send it flying into the rectangular mirror on the wall, when the door burst open.

Cage took one look at his room, one look at me, and his body went instantly taut. His nostrils flaring, his fists clenched, the veins on his neck and arms bulging, he charged me. Screaming, I spun around, leapt on top of the bed and quickly rolled off the other side. Raising the gun, I pointed it at Cage.

“STOP!” I screamed.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Who stopped what they were doing when they had a gun trained on them? Not Cage.

“Fuck that,” he said, walking around the bed. His pace was slower now, his eyes on the gun, but he was still coming at me. “Put that shit down before you accidentally blow a fuckin’ hole in yourself.”

“Fuck you!”

He paused and his eyes reached mine. “Put it down,” he said slowly. “Or when I reach you I am going to beat the fuckin’ shit out of you with it.”

He sounded so crass, so goddamn cold and unfeeling just like his fucking father, that I couldn’t help myself. My lower lip began to tremble and a whimper escaped me.

“God,” I whispered frantically. “I hate you!”

“Put it down,” he repeated, and resumed walking.

“Goddammit, Tegen,” he growled, mere seconds from reaching me. “Put it the fuck—”

“FINE!” I screamed and just as he made to grab for it, I flung it to the left of me.

Cursing, Cage changed direction, grabbed for my shoulders, and with a hard shove sent me down to my knees. Then he bent down in front of me.

“You love him?” he growled.

It took me a moment to catch up. I was still reeling from the gun episode. But when I did, the very second I knew he was referring to ZZ, my anger resurfaced tenfold and I exploded.

“No!” I shouted. “He’s my fucking friend!”

“Pretty good fuckin’ friend,” he said angrily. “Seein’ as you been fuckin’ him for years!”

“Do you love everyone you fuck?” I screamed.

“I don’t love ANYONE I fuck!” he yelled back.

Ouch. That seriously fucking hurt.

“Good!” I screamed. “And I don’t limit myself to just one cock either!”

Cage’s brown eyes went wide and a muscle near his jaw began to twitch.

“You like bein’ a whore?” Cage leaned forward, bringing me nose to nose with him. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “You like bein’ passed around, you little fuckin’ hypocrite?”

I was so offended, so hurt by that comment, that it took me a moment to realize what Cage’s hand was doing between us, but when he reached for my jeans and I saw that he’d freed his cock, I balked and immediately tried to dive to the side. But Cage was faster, his arms shot out, grabbing my ankles, sending me sprawling onto my back.

“This is what’s gonna happen,” he said darkly, whipping my jeans straight off my legs. Then grabbing hold of my calves, he flipped me onto my belly. With one palm pressed firmly into my back, Cage maneuvered his hips between my thighs.

“First,” he hissed. “You’re going to shut the fuck up for the first time in your life and listen for a change. And seein’ as the only time you ain’t yellin’ or screamin’ or tryin’ to knock somebody out is when you got dick inside you…”

Cage’s chest replaced his hand on my back and I felt his lips press against the back of my neck.

“You’re going to rape me?” I screamed as loud as I could.

“Rape you?” he said, sounding offended. “Seriously, Tegen? All I gotta do is smile at you and you’re wet and ready for me.”

Between our bodies, Cage’s fingers slid into the crotch of my underwear.

“Right, Teacup?” he whispered, lightly touching me.

A full-bodied shiver tore through me and my breath left me in a rush of hot, humiliated air. He continued stroking me, wetting me with my own moisture, making me quiver and tremble with every touch, until I was burning with need, wanting him to stop just touching me and to just fucking take me.

Behind me, Cage laughed softly. “You want it?” he whispered, teasing with the tip of his finger, circling it over where I needed him most of all.

My insides were instantly throbbing with a single-minded need, no longer caring what Cage wanted from me, to be silent, to listen to him, to do his damn laundry or shave his balls, I didn’t care. I didn’t give a fuck about anything as long as he planned on relieving this incredibly, beautiful, agonizing ache he’d created.

“Yes,” I whimpered, lifting my hips off the ground, pushing back against him.

The next thing I knew I was being flipped over again and Cage was yanking my underwear down my legs and my tank top over my arms. I watched him pull his own shirt up over his head and toss it aside, then hungry for more of him, I reached for him. His arm shot out, his hand wrapped around my throat and he brought us face-to-face. “You suck Z off?” he whispered.

The fog that had begun to cloud reality began to clear and I snarled at him. “What the fuck?” I hissed.

Cage jumped to his feet, bringing me with him, and shoved me in the direction of his bed. Still holding my neck, he shoved me down to a sitting position in front of him.

“Answer me,” he growled.

My jaw locked. “Yes,” I bit out.

His answering smile was brutal, but also…pained? What was going on? Why the fuck was he doing this?

“Already know he’s been up inside that pussy,” he said tersely through his teeth. “He been up inside anywhere else?”

“Yeah,” I said with a snarl. “I let him fuck me in the ear almost daily.”

His fingers tightened around my neck and I felt my throat hiccup with the loss of air. My hands flew to my throat and my fingers worked, trying to pry his hand off me.

“Where else?” he growled.

“My ass, you fucking psychopath,” I rasped, coughing. “He loves fucking me in the ass!”

“Good,” he ground out, leaving me even more confused as to what he was getting at or why he was doing this in the first place.

But as he palmed his own cock and his grip on my throat moved to my hair and he yanked me forward, bringing my mouth to the tip of his dick, I knew exactly what was going on. Having just succumbed to the mere touch of his fingers, there was no way in hell I was going to let him get away with further humiliating me.

“I’m layin’ fuckin’ claim to you, Tegen, every single fuckin’ part of you, right the fuck now.”

“You can’t have any part of me!” I cried, trying to turn my head but his grip on my hair was too tight. Grunting, he yanked my head backward, forcing me to look up at him.

“Wrong,” he growled. “I’ve always had you. Only difference is now, I’m takin’ you.”

Oh my God, what did that mean? What the shit did that mean?

“Take it,” Cage gritted out, trying to force his cock between my lips, “or get the fuck outta my life right the fuck now and stay the fuck out.”

My heart began to pound, my stomach fluttered, and tears pricked the back of my eyes. He pulled his hips back slightly.

“I don’t want to be like my mother,” I whispered.

“I’m not Jase,” he whispered back. “I’m not Hawk, I’m not my father, I’m not any of them.”

Staring up at his big brown eyes, I choked back a sob. He already was like his father, in so many, many ways. But at the same time, he wasn’t.

“Take it, Teacup,” he said hoarsely. “Be my girl.”

My breath left me. Be. His. Girl.

Be Cage’s girl.

My eight-year-old self, my nine-year-old self, my twelve-year-old self, my brokenhearted sixteen-year-old self, and my bitter, broken-down adult self, they all converged together…and…