Reed (Book 2, Southern Royals Saga)

Chapter 8: Persuasion

The six minutes that passed between my risky text and her response felt like a lifetime.

Artemis: My sister is spending the night at our cousin's house.

My heart leapt. Was she saying yes?

Brandon: You'll be all alone? I guess I need to come over and protect you.

Artemis: Sounds good.

I bit my fist. Oh, fuck yeah.

Artemis: My house is just off Hwy 139 S from Helena, 2222 Crawford Avenue, it's on a private gravel road.

My fingers typed faster than my mind.

Brandon: Okay.

~

Selma seemed quiet this time of night; compared to my bustling with activity hometown, Selma was somewhat docile, other than a few stragglers.

I took a left turn onto Lawrence.

I wracked my hand nervously through my slick, freshly washed, hair.

My stomach was in knots; why was I so nervous?

It's not the first time I'd be alone with a pretty girl.

But, it would be the first time I was alone with Liv Walker.

"Fuck her", the devil on my shoulder piqued up.

"Slow! Go slow with her", the angel put his two-sense in.

I can do slow. Slow.

"Slowly in and out of her," the devil whispered.

Fuck!

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"She's probably tighter than that," the devil on my shoulder whispered again, telling me all the dirty things Liv and I could do together.

My knuckles turned a stark white against my russet skin.

"Slow and steady wins the race," the angel whispered, silencing the devil.

Very seldom did the angel win with me.

I took the next left onto Crawford Avenue. I sped over the gravel, cringing anytime a rock would slide up into the interior.

Damn country roads.

Liv's house sat at the end of the treacherous path, up on a hill.

Castle on a hill.

Two big pine trees framed the front, obscuring it from a stranger's view. It was a rather large home, made out of oak wood, it looked like.

I spotted an old shed that sat away from the house; I pulled up the driveway and straight into the vacant hut. I took a deep breath, "Slow, Reed", and left Shelby, regaining my edged confidence that I'd had since I was 16, and went to see my girl.

She couldn't run now.

I pulled the aged doors shut behind me, hiding my car.

I laid eyes on her, walking up the front yard. Her sinful legs taunted me, her tattoo reminding me of our past. I felt her eyes on me, wandering down to my own ink, reminding her of our betrayal.

But it wasn't betrayal.

It was life.

A life I planned to have outside this bullshit feud.