Come With Me

Acaia knew the rules. But that didn't mean she had to like them. Or like the fact they were painted on sheets of thin metal, screwed into the brick walls all over the place.

· No smoking.

· All homework from home school had to be done between the hours of three to six o'clock.

· No eating after eight.

· No engaging in any type of sexual activity without consent from Moses.

And the number one rule: No phones. Which Acaia found a lot of redundant and a little funny considering they lived on a reservation. Anyone worth talking to was within walking distance.

The tip of an old match struck against an exposed brick. Acaia angled her face toward the fire and took in a deep breath through the filter of her cigarette.

"You know you're not supposed to be smoking." A voice beside her mentioned.

"Really? Where'd you get that from?"

Beside her, Cage pulled a pair of worn-out jeans to his waist, his chest still bare. He made a gesture of pointing to one of the many signs around them. Acaia nodded and blew a ring of smoke in the direction of the nearest sign.

"We're not supposed to have sex either but that didn't stop us three minutes ago did it?" She reminds him with raised brows.

Cage smiled crookedly as he pulled his already buttoned, button-down shirt over head. He loved screwing the rules almost as much as he loved screwing her. Besides, the only people who observed the rules were those in the fifteen and under crowd.

Cage stood by the bed, leaning in for a kiss. "You, Miss Acaia Brown, are a bad influence." A soft peck landed on her lips. "Keep it up."

She could only smile. She had known Cage since she was five and he was ten. Even then she managed to coerce him into doing her bidding not for the sake of her not getting caught, but for the simple fact that he never did. Of course, there was the possibility that he never got caught due to the fact of being Moses' only begotten son. She desired his immunity sorta speak. Although she wouldn't admit it, she even desired his true belonging.

Acaia was adopted. However, her foster parents had taken great strides into making sure she didn't know this. But how else do you explain a child with pale skin, reddish-brown hair, and green eyes coming from jet black-hair and brown eyed parents? She didn't mind their differences. She loved them because they loved her even when her real parents didn't. Yet the fact still remained, she was adopted. She would never be flesh of their flesh, and blood of their blood.

Acaia sighed at her train of thoughts and watched as Cage sat on the bed to lace up a pair of dirty red boots he wore year-round. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him and she fought not to blush. A warmth rushed over her like it always did whenever moments like this struck, making her feel like the luckiest girl alive. It also left her feeling a little uncertain. Was love supposed to feel so vulnerable?

Done getting dressed, Cage leaned in again to kiss her. "Sleep." He ordered as he was walking away.

Acaia quietly nodded to his retreating back.

She was what you call 'a poor man's insomniac' because she could never sleep at night, Acaia did her sleeping during the day. And even then did she do it in fits and spells.

On cue, her eyelids felt as heavy as anvils. She lowered herself onto her pillows. No use fighting it. She could feel herself drifting off. The deeper she went the more she felt the impression of a small hand holding hers.