Chapter 24

As Jimmy Devlin’s black Dodge Challenger came to a halt on the street at the foot of Beth’s driveway, Shayna stopped. With a sloppy slurp in a sudsy puddle, I brought the chariot to a standstill. On the other side of Shayna, Beth chewed her lips as the car’s opaque window glided downwards.

“Hey, crip!” Jimmy’s gravelly voice echoed across the yard. “Get the fuck away from her!”

After the engine shut off, his door flew open, releasing all six feet plus of muscular Jimmy Devlin to the wet grass before slamming behind him. Face crimson and tilting forward, he marched nearer.

“Are you okay, babycakes? Is he fuckin’ with you?”

As the universe faded to a blurry, wavering dimness, several things happened in the space of a millisecond.

First, Beth took a step towards him, her lean arm muscles twisting tight, fists clenched at her sides, and slim chest puffed out. Her eyes were slits as she spat. “Jimmy Devlin! That’s not nice. You take that back.”

Even as Beth’s cry faded, Shayna, with her hackles raised, tail straight back, and growling, slipped forward. And did something she’d never done. Glinting teeth bared, she moved between Beth and Jimmy. Her growling intensified.

At his girlfriend’s strident voice, Jimmy, his face burning, raised his balled fist. While he leaned closer, his gaze flicked to Shayna’s snarling visage but, with his fist cocking back, returned to Beth. “Don’t you ever—”

“Does your daddy really enjoy his cute little pink cage?”

Those words had come from me. Not subtle. Not soft. Insane voice had screamed them into my skull so loud I’d flung them from my lips without any understanding. With my eyebrows arching skyward, a strange rippling shudder wormed through me.

From somewhere in the wavering, foggy distance, drowning out Beth’s music, came the steady, slow rhythmic pounding of Native American shamanic drums. Rattling my hardened chest, the melodious thumping beat engulfed, enhanced, and focused my heartbeat as I glared at Jimmy.

A vision appeared.

When my jaw dropped, Jimmy’s eyes whipped to mine and ... Without a sound, he lowered his gaze to the muddy, glistening green grass before the chariot. Each blade was so verdant. And shone so brightly. Each stem—called—to me as the drums grew louder.

After lifting, a gauzy, shimmering veil revealed a haze-filled house interior.

While Jimmy was the spitting image of his father, Coach Devlin was larger in every way and possessed shorter, close-cropped hair. Hot as hell, Jimmy’s mom was slim and petite, almost boyish. She kept her straight blonde mane in a short bob-cut that framed her cute face. Also, she had a penchant for wearing skintight pink leather, which none of us minded.

Whenever attending football games, Mrs. Devlin was quite outspoken and often could be spotted on the sidelines amongst the players.

As the gauze pulled back, the haze slackened.

Through a partially open door, Coach was on his knees, naked but for the aforementioned tiny pink cage over his—junk. Around his bulging neck, a pink leather collar lined with shiny silver studs.

Blurry around the edges, the perspective swung to an enormous wooden sleigh bed. Its pink sheets dangled over the side. The light was dim and flickering. The focus shifted to serried rows of lit candles covering the top of a long pink and white wooden dresser.

When a protracted moan sounded in the gloom, the view returned to the bed and cleared. Jimmy’s mom, her blonde hair bobbling beside her open-mouthed, flushed face and wearing only a pink leather harness that exposed—everything, rose and fell atop ... Oh, fuck. Darnell White! The offensive linesman who’d made the big play last week.

As the image wavered, those drums strengthened, sending endless, forceful vibrations through my chest.

At each languid rise of her compact pale frame, the purplish-black skin of Darnell’s glistening thick shaft oozed into view. As Jimmy’s mom rode him, the sleek muscles of one lean arm twisted, driving her long, pink-nailed fingers deep into her hair. At a jingling sound, the shaky view flicked to Coach. In her other hand, a shiny silver leash clinked against a glittering silver ring on his collar.

“Thank you, honey”—as her husky, breathless voice escaped her parted, glistening pink lips, Mrs. Devlin’s toned legs rose further, revealing a lot more of the massive fleshy tube dragging her tight crimson rim downwards—”for getting him so nice and hard for me.” After sweeping several errant golden strands behind her ear, she gestured her husband nearer with her finger. “Would you like another taste?”

After an abrupt shudder, the view blurred and wavered while shifting to Coach Devlin. While crawling closer, he was raising his head over Darnell’s roiling dark stomach muscles. Although his actions weren’t visible, the sound of a tongue’s long, wet drag filled the room. Just as hitching groans escaped Darnell, so did a series of loud slurping noises.

In reverse, the haze thickened, and the gauze fell just as the door closed. As I blinked in the sudden bright sunlight, the image ended.

After a gulp, I gasped for air as Jimmy’s eyes met mine. How I’d perceived any of that, I’ve no idea.

He’d said you were powerful.

Yeh, thanks insane voice. Nice of you to appear, whatever the heck that had meant.

With my eyes wide beneath arched eyebrows, my expression told Jimmy I’d seen everything. Every single detail he’d witnessed in that room. As the blood fled his face, his shoulders drooped. Fists bunched at his sides, he whirled to Beth, then Shayna, before returning to me. At the smile slipping onto me, his jaw shuddered.

Although his mouth opened and closed, he gave up trying to speak, gulped, and spun to march from us. When he tripped over the hose, with a grunt, he thudded to the ground. Rather than stand, he scrambled forward on his hands and knees. After a series of awkward quick hopping splats on the muddy turf, he lurched upwards to thump into his car door. It took several tries, but he found the handle and ripped it open before flinging himself into the driver’s seat.

“This ain’t over, crip!” When he slammed the door shut, a topless girl silhouette air freshener swung crazily from his rearview mirror. Because of course he’d had one of those.

While he spun around, clawing for his keys, I glanced at Beth. Beside her, Shayna sat, leaning against her shaking leg. When I returned to Jimmy, he was still fumbling in his pockets.

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