Nixon

••• Twelve •••

"Yes, sir."

I watch as he drags Taylor and her friends out of the club, making sure they don't think about running away. I'm quick to follow the bouncer out as I nod to Nixon, letting him know I'll be going.

The second Taylor's friends and shouting vulgar words and I exit the club, they turn their attention to me. "You bitch!" One screams, throwing her bracelet at me, hitting me in the forehead. I jerk a bit, the metal pinching my skin as they shout words at me. "You've got some nerve, you-

"I'd advise you not to insult me. I will find out your names and tell your parents. You'll be wise just to go home and I won't tell your parents you were allowing older men to buy you alcohol as you're at some club," I threaten, watching many of the barbies shutting their mouths straight away. "I'm driving all of your four home and that's it. I'll let you crash at our place and go home tomorrow so you don't have to wind up home in a tipsy state in those clothes."

As they are now under control, I get them into my car, making sure that they put on their seat belts and from my rear view mirror I see Nixon's bike starting up.

I drive out of the city, Nixon following me the entire time as my emotions are going haywire. For sure this night has got me mixed in emotion. All those things the girls told me, it hurt me, it made me feel bad, it made me feel low, but I was in the right.

Taylor sits to my left, moping as she stares out the window at the lights. "I won't tell mom and dad," I promise her, watching her only flip me off.

As we reach the town, I see Nixon take the turn to his home, yet, as he disappears from my view, a part of me tells me that he'll be back, that I'll see him soon again.

Once at home, I see my parents have left me messages that they'll be gone for the night, booking a room at a hotel, having taken the car and gotten drinks, they don't want to drive home with alcohol in their system. At least they are responsible. As the girls enter the house, I set them up in Taylor's side of the house, down a different hall from my room and my parent's.

They're loud until twelve, soon all quiet, and as they are, I go to Taylor's room to see the girls passed out, just sleeping as I shut the door.

"Foolish," I mumble, only to hear the doorbell ring.

Walking to the living room, I already know who it is as my body begins to heat up with tingles. As I open the door, I see his eyes cold. "It's not the best time," I yawn, stretching my arms out, only to regret that as his eyes shift to my stomach as some skin is exposed.

"We can make it a good time," Nixon states and I shake my head.

"Taylor's friends are here, I'd rather not have them see a man in the house with an underage girl."

Nixon doesn't take that as a no, directly walking in as he walks down my hall. How does he know to take that turn?
The second he pushes open my room door, he takes in the room, the cream walls, wooden floor, double bed with a white duvet and accent pillows, some clothes on the floor, and school papers covering half the floor. "You're messy."

"I'm not a perfectionist like you," I mutter, shutting my room door as Nixon looks out my window. "Nixon, I'd be best if you left."

"You don't want me."

His eyes are icy blue, one that sends chills up my spin and a feeling in my soul that makes me want to run and hide. "You want me gone." As if he's changed into a whole new person, his voice is barbaric and angered.

"No, Nixon, that's not what I mean. There are five teenage girls across the house that could wake up at any given-

"That's why there's a lock on your door."