Free Fiction Friday: MINE

Last week we got a little twisted, with a serial killer on Good Friday. Today I thought it might be nice to start the month off with a little romance. Sort of. This is no April Fool, just a sweet short story.

MINE

What the hell was she thinking?

Darrien stormed through the club, his face a mask hiding the rage simmering just beneath his skin. He’d kill her. Really, he would.

This was the last time he’d let that little—no, he couldn’t confront her this angry. He had to pull it in, get calm. Breathe. Wasn’t that what she was always telling him?

“Breathe, Darrien. Just let it go.” Like that damned song his niece kept playing over and over and over again until he thought he’d lose his mind.

But this wasn’t like the kid movie. It wasn’t going to end happily ever after. Not after the stunt she just pulled. He had rules and they had to be obeyed. How many times had he told her that? Do what he asked and life would be fine. Peachy, even.

Except, his life had never been fine. He wouldn’t know what find looked like if it bit him in the ass.

The music thumped through the narrow hallway as he made his way to the huge dance floor. Of course she’d be there, among all the dancers and happy people. Dammit, why couldn’t she just listen to him for once? Would it kill her to do as told?

Apparently, it would.

Well, he was done being nice. He’d tried. Given her everything and for what? His anger sizzled through his veins as the memory of last week roiled in his thoughts. It should’ve bene perfect, but she’d ruined everything. Ruined him. And now she was here, in his club, where she had no right to be.

The song died down and there was a hush, then a slow beat started up, sinuous and sexy, seductive in its bass notes.

Their song.

His pace slowed as the familiar tune burrowed into his psyche, crept along the edge of his heart. His well-honed rage slithered out from under his skin to drip from his fingertips. Then her voice came over the loudspeaker, lush and raw, like it was right after they had sex.

“This one’s for you, baby. For all the good times, and the not so good times. Forever.”

What the actual fuck? Had she really just said that? Here? After what she’d pulled? Oh, there was no way she was getting away with it. Not this time. Not ever again.

Strobe lights flashed over his head, bouncing off the mirrored disco balls. He’d always hated those. Thought they were better left in the seventies, but she’d loved them and begged him to let her have just a few. A few turned into a dozen.

His sneakers hit the wooden dance floor and skidded a step. All around him dancers swayed to the music, their bodies close, arms slung over shoulders. Some couples were actively making out, almost having sex right there. Whatever, dude. As long as they paid for their drinks, he didn’t care where they got their rocks off.

He was almost to the booth now, his anger mellowed to a slow simmer, his desire mounting the minute he saw her pixie face. Huge headphones covered most of her hair, spikes of blue flashing with each bob of her head. She blew a bubble and popped it against her lips. God, he wanted to taste her again, just once. He was a junkie and she his fix. Isn’t that what they always said? Just one more. What a load of crap. He knew he could never get enough of her.

After a quick adjustment of his jeans, he grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open. A scowl covered his face, just a pretense now that his emotions were raw. She always did that to him—break down his walls just when he thought he’d built them high enough to keep out the pain.

Her startled gaze took in his face and a slow smile spread across her lips. Like she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. Had been hoping for it. God, she drove him nuts. He was the one in control, wasn’t he?

“You can’t be here. I gave you strict orders.”

“Do you like the song?”

Of course he did. It was their song, ‘Mine’. It was what he always said to her after they had sex, except she’d never said yes. Hadn’t committed to being his. Tonight though, the word hung heavy in the air with meaning. Like, she’d flipped the tables on him. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

The song reached its crescendo and he mentally sang the words, his lips pressed tightly together. Just one more touch of her silky skin beneath the pads of his fingers, one more taste of her lips…

“Darrien,” she said, swaggering toward him with a sexy sway to her hips. She still wore the headphones and was jerked backward when they reached their length. “Shit.”

He suppressed a laugh and strode forward to take them off her head. “Why are you here?” He’d meant to sound menacing, but his voice was soft, full of need. God, he hated the sound of it.

Her smile widened and she flicked a switch on the huge control board. Then, she knelt on one knee. In her hand she held the engagement ring he’d given her a week earlier. The one she’d said she couldn’t accept right before she’d run from the room. That was the last time he saw her and, until a few minutes ago, thought he never would again.

“Darrien Goodwin, will you be my husband? Will you promise to love me and cherish me, for richer and richer, never poorer if we can help it. Will you be mine?”

His knees quaked at her words, the sincerity on her face. He’d thought he’d lost her, and here she was asking him to marry her. It was that moment he realized the club was quiet. Too quiet. He turned slowly and saw a sea of faces watching them. Their song played quietly in the background. She must’ve put it on loop.

He took the ring from her shaking grip and slipped it over the third finger of her left hand. “I do. I will. I am.”

Cheers erupted from the club goers as his voice echoed through the speakers. The little minx had hit the switch allowing whatever was said in the booth to be heard everywhere, including the bathrooms.

Tears shone in her eyes as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Mine,” she said.

“Forever,” he growled against her soft lips, “Mine.”

~~~***~~~***

Aww! I love a happy ending, don’t you? These two definitely have more to say. I want to know their whole story, but for now, we can be satisfied with just this. Right?

Have a fantastic weekend, my darlings! Next week we’re starting a series of shorts involving princesses, beasts, wolves, and glass slippers. I’ll bet you can guess what the theme of the next few posts will be!

Until then, be dazzling.

%d bloggers like this: