Bloodlust

Chapter One

I shivered against the crisp winter air as I slammed my car door shut. I should have layered on more clothes, but I knew I wasn't going to be outside for long. 

I made my way up to the run-down house that had become my hideout these last couple of years. Knocking twice, I waited for one of them to answer before hearing the door unlock. 

"Char." Oscar grinned as he swung the door open. "What brings you in this time?"

"Same shit as always," I grumbled as I pushed past him. The familiar smell of cigars, weed, and tequila hit my nose, satisfying my senses all at once. "How's Dana?" 

"Bitchy. She makes my head hurt," he complained. I let out a short laugh, not even slightly surprised by his answer. His girlfriend was a handful that none of the men could handle. "How long are you staying?" 

"It's up to him," I answered. "Where is he?" 

"Living room." He led me past the kitchen and walked me through the crowded poker room. "I'm warning you, he's not in the best mood today."

"When is he ever in a good mood," I mumbled. 

He glanced back at me. "You always find a way to cheer him up." 

He pinned back the brown beaded curtain that separated the living room entrance from the others.

"Aye foo, your girlfriend is here," Oscar chaffed. Sitting alone on the worn-out leather couch, Rowen was shirtless and weighing out bags of cocaine on a scale. His dark brown eyes met mine and he immediately scowled.

"Char." My name bitterly left his mouth like had swallowed something sour. 

"Rowen," I retorted. I settled down next to him and he shifted over in the other direction. "What are you scared of me?"

"I told you not to come back," he stated coldly. The indifference in his tone made my chest to sting painfully, but I played it off.

"I need your help," I said quietly.

"I can't help you," he snapped. He twisted off the last bag of white powder and slid it on the table before continuing. "It's not safe for you here."

"It's safer for me here than at home. Please, just hear me out," I pleaded. I fluttered my eyes and pouted, one of my favorite ways to get his attention. He sighed and cussed something in Spanish before giving up.

"Fine." I could tell he was annoyed by his choice, but he had a soft spot for me. He always had. "You got five minutes Char. That's it."

I looked around nervously. "I can't tell you here," I lowered my voice.

"Why not?!"

"Because..." I lifted my hoodie, showing him the purple bruise that had formed around the side of my stomach. I frantically glanced around, paranoid that someone was watching us. "I'm embarrassed. I don't want anyone else to know." His hands buckled into fists, and hatred hardened his mouth.

"He did it again didn't he? That sick fuck." He hated my father more than I did. "I thought he was getting help. I'll fucking kill-"

"Not here," I begged. "Not here. Can we go somewhere private?" He nodded. He called in Oscar and asked him to take over sales tonight before guiding me up to his room.  

It had been four months since I had been to Rowen's. Our meetings since then had been cut short to glances at each other in the school hallway and running into each other at the market. We hadn't talked much about anything that had happened, but now, I needed him.

I sank into his dark brown sheets and took in the comforting scent of pine. I had missed it here and staring at his bronzed and tatted body made me realize I had missed him too.