Independence Day
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Independence Day, Part One free porn video
Time was a villain. As unassuming as still water and heavy enough to drown in.
A cool breeze stole the searing bite from the bonfire before Daphne, and she wished it could regenerate what had already been burned. Her childhood. Early adulthood. And the end of the only relationship she’d had where someone seemed to care for her. She was going through the motions but she’d never been happy. Hopeful, but not happy.
Life was prison.
She watched the flames, the party around her long forgotten until the crisp slam of a car door shattered her reverie. Her friend’s front yard came into focus--dirt, peppered with weeds. Rocks surrounded the bonfire, ringed with pods of human shaped shadows, steady scream-singing of thrash metal, and the knowledge that everyone, everything here would always be foreign despite its familiarity.
A spark, a tick of a lighter further down the driveway, caught her eye. Flickering flames lit up a tall man’s cheeks, glancing off the ring in his lower lip and reflecting in his glasses and the big green eyes behind them.
Which were looking back at her.
Pierce.
“Fuck.” Her murmur garbled into her red Solo cup.
Taking a sip of beer, she glanced at the party goers. Laughing faces that glinted with piercings. Light shone through gauged out earlobes. Tattoos sleeved arms, legs, and necks. They were jovial and intelligent, people she’d liked. But their loyalty would always be to Pierce.
They’d never really been her friends.
Dry grass crunched nearer to her. Footsteps.
She stiffened. Surely he’s not coming to talk to me.
Turning, Daphne headed to the keg next the little house. Two members of Pierce’s band nodded hello as they walked by, headed back to the party. She reached the keg, grabbed the nozzle and aimed it into her cup.
A hand came over her own, each finger tattooed with letters spelling out “Talk.” She knew them, and knew the other hand’s fingers read “Hard.” Pierce’s reminder to never forget who he was, to be honest with himself and everyone around him, no matter how difficult it might be.
She used to love that. Until he cheated on her.
Cigarette smoke billowed around her as he tilted her cup further. “Dip it more, babe. So you won’t get all that head.”
His voice was as quiet and soothing as it always had been. Body warm, his dry fingers gentle on hers. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, letting the smell of tobacco and soap linger in her senses. He smelled like home.
The cup grew heavier with the moment and she released pressure on the nozzle, its whispering pour halting. Opening her eyes, she stared at his hand.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
He took his arm back. “Yeah.”
Dropping the tap in a coiled heap on the top of the keg, she raised the cup to her mouth. Soaked her lips in foam before the beer rushed her tongue. She savored the silence as the liquid cooled her down.
“You doing okay?” He slipped his free hand in his jeans pocket as he flicked the ash from his cigarette.
“I’m fine.” She looked into his eyes, willing herself to be strong while ignoring the stabbing pain in her heart. “I’ll always be fine, Pierce.”
He took the last drag and tossed the butt to the ground, stepping on the glow before putting his other hand in his pocket too. He stared at the ground. “I made a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes in my life, Daph.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. It scared the shit out of me.” His shoulders hunched as he looked back at her. “I fucked up.”
Her mind went blank, her mouth open. The air conditioning unit in the window behind them turned on, the buzz drowning out the screaming quiet in her ears. Shaking her head, she placed her beer on the top of the keg. Looked at the ground and pulled her long hair into a ponytail.
She let the breath out and dropped her hands, letting the soft ends of her fine hair brush her sweat-sticky back. A reminder of her delicacy. And the question of his.
Daphne swallowed. Bit her lower lips and scooped up her plastic cup. Holding it with both hands, she met his eyes again.
Pierce looked at the ground.
Something pulled at the ache of abandonment inside her, a feeling she’d struggled with for years on the street until he’d come along. “It’s been months since we were over. Why now?”
Cocking his head to the side, his green eyes lifted and scoured her face. But looking at him, she realized the hope inside her belonged to a broken shell, the thin lining of the soul no one else had bothered to uncover.
He’d never gone deeper. Neither had she.
“Pierce!” A blonde stumbled forward, spilling her beer on the ground as she rushed to hug him. Her brown eyes widened when she saw Daphne, a smile bursting over her face. “Daphne! Where have you been? We’re just about to burn.”
Katie Ryan, resident pothead of the group.
“You’re smoking weed again?” Pierce murmured.
The blonde grabbed her hand, staggered toward her. “I’ve never seen you stoned. Say yes.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious and given the tense conversation before Katie’s arrival, Daphne couldn’t help but laugh. Fuck it. Why not?
“Yes.”
“Perfect!” Katie stacked her big purse on top of the keg and rummaged through it. Brought out a lighter, pipe and a little baggie of green and got to work.
Pierce raised an eyebrow at Daphne. Shrugging, she smiled back. The hiss of the lighter next to them was followed by a flicker of amber light. A pungent smell locked into her nostrils.
The other girl nudged her arm. Daphne turned, accepting the lightweight pipe. Putting it to her lips, she closed a finger over the pipe’s hole then watched the bunched green light up as she sucked the hot smoke into her lungs.
Her ex-boyfriend pulled out a cigarette, lit it as he watched her.
Smoke caught in her throat. She coughed and handed the pipe back to Katie.
“Want some?” the other girl asked him. “I’ve never seen you high either!”
“No. Thanks.” Smoke bled from his lips as he spoke, his eyes on Daphne.
The old familiar feeling of relief consumed her. Whispers of pressure at her eyes, a slowing of her mind, the tacky feel of the saliva on her tongue. She exhaled and took one more deep hit before handing it back to the blonde.
“Damn, you sucked on that good, Daph. Pierce is a lucky guy.” Katie giggled.
Don’t give her a fucked up look. Don’t give her a fucked up look, she chanted to herself.
Katie was known to be a little psychotic. She’d hooked up with one of their friends before and became obsessed with him, leaving countless messages on his cell phone and almost killed his date at a party. Though the girl seemed to like her, Daphne was never one to play with fire.
Daphne met Pierce’s eyes again, but he hid his grin behind a drag of his cigarette.
That smile. She’d never forget it. The twisted second tooth, the way his eyes crinkled at the sides. The honesty in his gaze.
She turned his reasoning around in her head. Scared.
“Babe?” he whispered.
Her gaze caught on the movement of his lips.
“Can we go talk somewhere?”
Nodding, she accepted the pipe from Katie once more. Pinched her fingers around the little barrel, took a hit, and handed it back. Lungs burning, she followed her Pierce down the dirt driveway to the paved street.
“I better see you later! I wanna see you fucked up,” Katie called. A husky laugh followed them.
Exhaling, Daphne reached a hand into her purse, fiddling around for her pack of cigarettes.
“When did you start smoking pot again?” Pierce asked.
She hadn’t, but felt no need to explain herself. “Why do you care?”
Stopping to light her cigarette, she inhaled and she looked up at him. Blew the smoke to the side.
He hung his head and nodded, then opened the tailgate and gestured for her sit. She wrenched her purse over her head and tossed it in the bed. Balanced her beer in her one hand, cigarette in the other, and hopped up. Felt the weight of her combat boots as she swung her legs back and forth then raised her eyebrows at him, prompting an answer.
“I... I love you.”’
Empathy poured at her heart, but her brain kept it in check. The man had slept with someone else.
Daphne shrugged. Took a sip of her beer and put it back down beside her on the wavering edges of the tailgate. “That’s nothing new then, right? You didn’t just fall in love with me. But you didn’t want me enough a few months ago to not stick your dick into another girl. So why is now any different?”
As soon as her words hit him, she knew it. Raking a palm over his face, he pursed his lips. The honest eyes she’d always loved were assaulted by a dozen fine lines. Even his fingers seemed to pinch shut the filter of his cigarette, as if everything inside him clenched. “It scared me. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Me either.” The purgatory of her loneliness caught up with her, the tenuous connection between them kicking up dust in the pit of her soul.
He stretched, resting his hand on the outside wall of the truck bed as he focused on her face. “I think I want to live the rest of my life with you, babe. I think I want to marry you.”
You think. You think. The words resonated in her head and weighted the bubble of hope inside her heart.
Nothing in his face changed, but the shadows seemed to become a different hue. Scratching the surface, never touching depth. As if he had none. As if that alone warned her that staying here might rob her of her own.
She raised the beer to her lips again, taking another swig as she assessed him.
Fucking paranoid bitch, Daphne. It’s just the fucking pot. Get a grip. He’s a good guy. Everyone has their faults. You do too.
“Daph?” His eyes cast down as he reached for her fingers, stroked her thumb. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Swallowing, she remembered everything he’d done for her. When he’d given her a roof to sleep under. Arms to sleep inside, a bed to keep her warm. The promise of food. Every night. Of love.
“I don’t know, Pierce.” Doubt seeded deep inside her chest. The tip of her nose tingled as her eyes brimmed. She sniffled, covered her mouth with her hand and tried to swallow back a cry. The smoke from her cigarette fogged her vision, burned her eyes, and after a moment, she released her lips. Let her hands rest in her lap as her gaze followed. “You can’t just spring this on me out of fucking nowhere and expect a real answer.”
“I’m sorry.” He flicked his cigarette to the side and seized her face in his palms, prompting her to meet his eyes. “I’m so God damn sorry and if I could go back and change that, I would. You know that, right?”
Between the rotting love inside her heart, the subduing force of the weed, and the heat rising between her legs, Daphne had no answers. No recourse. Nothing.
She was barren, as she always was. Empty. Alone.
What if he was it for her? What if no one else would ever love her the same, no one else cared if she starved to death on the streets of the ghetto? Or even whether or not she ever smiled again?
He did. If she wasn’t sure of anything else, she knew that.
But the knowledge was too overwhelming to process fully.
“You’re asking too much right now,” she whispered. “Ask me when I’m sober. When you have a chance of getting all of my attention.”
His hands dropped to her open palm. “Okay. You’re right. I can do that.”
The rub of his fingers on hers seemed to overcome every other thing she could feel or sense. It was too much like it used to be. So much had changed, and yet he was acting like nothing had. As if he hadn’t faced what he’d done. Like he couldn’t move on from their past.
Not that she could.
She inched her fingers away. Met his gaze at the same time he looked up. She swallowed. “Later?”
“Count on it,” he replied.
Pierce held her hand as she slid off the tailgate and stood.
She glanced at her little beat up car. “I should go.”
“Aren’t you fucked up? Let me take you home.”
She shook her head and gave him a wry smile. “I’m just a beginning to get high. Not drunk. If nothing else, I’m just a little horny.”
“You sure?” The streetlights glanced off the metal ring on his lip as he smiled.
“Yeah.” Daphne dug through her purse again until her fingers scraped her keys. Hooking her pinky in the loop of the keychain, she pulled them out with a quick jingle. “I’m sure. I’ll call you later.”
“You drive now?” Surprise lined his tone.
The car key suddenly felt more substantial in her hand. A good friend of hers had been killed in a car accident years before. Daphne had wrecked another friend’s car a year later and had vowed never to drive again, knowing she was a terrible driver.
But when Pierce left her, she’d had to fend for herself. It was one of the many fears she’d had to get over.
“Yeah. I drive now.” She took a last swig of beer before resting the cup back on the tailgate. Flicked her cigarette away. “Bye, Pierce.”
“I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She turned, walking back to her beater car. Felt his gaze on her the whole way, and the answer in the sway of her hips.
Clicking open the locks, she got in the car. Didn’t move for a moment, letting the last few minutes sink in her brain. Until she felt him looking at her. Saw him in her peripheral vision. Like he was waiting to make sure she was going to back out of the parking spot okay.
Daphne let out a breath and shoved the car into reverse. Slowly backing out, she waved good-bye and shifted into drive. He waved back, and she concentrated on the pavement in front of her toward her apartment.
So much had changed after they’d broken up, and yet he seemed to be the same. Open. Earnest. Sweet. Now he was repentant, but instead of feeling closer to him, she was still adrift.
He’d saved her from homelessness, but she took care of herself now. For everything. She’d grown. Changed. No longer dependent. No longer a shadow.
She braked for a stoplight, red painting her car and dripping over her skin as the engine panted in front of her. The clock on the dashboard glowed 10:00.
Fireworks pierced the night sky in a vertical line of amber, followed by a booming explosion of light. Muffled cheers erupted in the small parking lots on either side of her.
“Fourth of fucking July.” Daphne stretched forward to see the little chains of light raining on either side of the pop, splashing the stars with lines. “It’s the fourth of fucking July and I’m going home by myself to think about marrying a man that threw me away.”
Slapping the button to roll down the windows, she dropped back in the seat. Let in the humid air mix with her stale breath of regret. “What’s wrong with me?”
The crowds’ cheers faded into a couple of whistles and yells on her left.
She turned. A sign boasting fireworks caught the light of the moon. A white canopy tent, the door flaps open. The parking lot around it was empty. Two younger guys sat in folding chairs inside. Smoking and waving at her.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Their attention made her squirm in the driver’s seat. She stared ahead at the road.
Their cheering got louder.
She glanced at them again.
They waved their arms, gesturing her to come over.
Daphne faced forward again. To the intersection where no one was actually crossing the street. There was no reason not to turn; the light just held her there. In place. Waiting.
Just like everything else.
She’d done things right most of her life. Stayed away from strangers, if she could. If she went anywhere different from the norm, someone always knew where she was. Or accompanied her. She didn’t want to be a victim.
The homelessness aside.
But that wouldn’t happen again. She had her own car, her own place. A job.
I can do whatever I want.
A thrill raced through her heart, raising the weight of anger, sadness, and fear inside her until she felt lighter. Bubbly. The night cleared, curves and lines seeming crisper somehow. Colors more vibrant.
And God damn it, so was she.
Red turned to green and the two guys booed as she hit the accelerator and turned onto the empty road.
She grinned. Oh, boys. So easily let down?
Daphne slowed, glancing at the back of the tent in her side mirror. Clicking on her blinker, she swung the car into the opposite side of the tent in the little strip mall. Drove up the columns of empty parking spots until reaching the back of the little tent and parked. She shut off the engine. Let her keys jingle as they swung from the ignition.
She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror, under the dim parking lot light. Her reflection rarely exposed life, if she was honest, but tonight her eyes looked glassy. Cheeks and chest flushed.
Who am I? Pressing a palm to her cheeks, she stared into her own dark eyes. Saw a beaming trail of light soar into the sky from her peripheral vision and yanked her hand down. She had no responsibilities to answer to, tonight or tomorrow, and it was a holiday.
A smile infected her lips, cheeks bunching the thick lined corners of her eyes.
Fuck it.
Daphne got of the car and walked around the side of the tent to the front, combat boots growling low with every measured step.
She peeked around the corner. The two guys sat there in fold up chairs, a cooler sitting between them. Each of them held a sweating beer bottle, breaking the comfortable silence with a few murmurs.
The one with the sombrero wore loose fitting jeans and flip flops. A light colored T-shirt fit around his broad shoulders. He’d have looked more young and fresh faced if not for the stubble shadowing his jaw. Everything about him said he was comfortable in his own skin.
It was a stark contrast to the guy next to him, who was leaner framed, bordering on skinny. A tip of a cowboy boot peeked from under his tighter fit jeans. His short cropped hair skimmed the back of his collar and his posture was ramrod straight.
They seemed so normal they were unapproachable.
Daphne shifted her weight, then straightened. They called me, not the other way around. So they’ll have to reap what they sow.
The smile stole her face and she stepped closer. “Got one of those for me?”
They looked up. Raised eyebrows from Sombrero. The other’s mouth hung open mid-sentence.
“You came over after all, huh?” The guy with the Sombrero stood. “You want a beer?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” she answered. “I’ll take that hat too.”
He turned to the cooler, a chuckle escaping his mouth. Fished out a beer and slapped the ice from it, then turned to hand the bottle to her. “You can borrow it, but you can’t have it. It’s like a Firework salesman’s badge of honor.”
“Oh really?” Laughing, she accepted the beer and glanced between the two of them. “You’re not actually selling fireworks right now are you?”
“No, we’re closed,” the other guy said, then turned his attention to the road.
“I’m Steve, by the way,” Sombrero said.
She looked between the two of them. Steve’s eyes were on her as he slugged back the beer, the liquid tinkling in the dark glass. The other guy stared at the street, fingers scraping against his bottle, lifting up portions of the label bit by bit.
Daphne walked around him to sit on the cooler between them and twisted to face the skinny guy. “What’s your name?”
He looked over at her. “Joshua.”
“Nice to meet you too, Josh. I’m Daphne.”
Shuffling his boots on the pavement, he looked back at the road. “You too.”
She watched his nails scratch at the label until he stood and turned.
“Be right back,” he muttered, walking to the back of the tent.
What did I do?
“He’s nervous around you,” Steve spoke up. She looked at him and he shrugged. “He’s not all that used to girls.”
Daphne couldn’t help but smile. “You two were the ones who were trying to get me to come over here.”
“Yeah well. We were kinda just having fun with you. We didn’t really think you’d come hang out with a couple of strangers by yourself.”
“Me either.”
He chuckled. Looked her over. “So why did you?”
Good question.
Slipping the cold bottle between her knees, her body reminded her of the heat it fought from the vertex of her thighs. The need to feel close to someone. To be joined with someone. Fed. Loved, even if only for a moment. It happened every time she’d gotten high, but she’d never given into temptation. Too aware of what could happen.
“No one is expecting you anywhere?” he asked.
Her eyes focused on his. “What do you mean?”
“Hey.” He put his hands up. “Don’t look at me like that. That’s not what I meant. I’m not a serial killer or something. You just... You look like the type of girl who’d have someone at home or somewhere waiting for them.”
A volley of fireworks screamed in the sky, demanding their attention as it burst in an explosion of sparkles. Silence hung between them.
Daphne glanced around at the folding tables behind them, stacked a couple of feet high with boxes. The buzz of a fan in the middle of the room hurtled hot air in their direction. A port-a-potty stood in the back corner.
“Where did Josh go?”
“Bathroom. He’s probably giving himself a pep talk.”
“Bathroom?” Her gaze rested on the back corner again. “The port-a-potty?”
The tinkling of the beer rushing back into the bottle made her turn back to him.
He swallowed, raising and tilting the bottle toward the back. “That’s ours. We live here.”
“You.... live here?” Nothing but a fan in ninety-plus degree weather, a tent full of tables and boxes of fireworks. “No way.”
“The hell we don’t. We’re from Ohio. They recruited us. Said they’d pay our way down here and give us a place to stay. That we’d make a lot of money if we wanted to work hard and the only thing we’d have to pay for is food.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
“That’s what we thought. And Josh has got a family he’s trying to help out. But we live in this fucking tent and the money we make is based on commission. In this economy.” He nodded at the empty streets around them. “I wanted to see Florida, and all I can see is the inside of a tent.”
Sounds like my life. Metaphorically.
“Where do you sleep?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder as the door to the port-a-potty slammed. “There’s a couple of air mattresses back there we blow up. Hot, right?”
“Literally.”
Daphne didn’t believe in destiny or fate, but it hit her how paralleled their lives were at the moment. Both lives weren’t what they’d expected. Like they were both in limbo, both needing something more.
To feel alive. To live in the moment.
She swallowed.
“You’re not about to leave, right?” Steve asked.
“No.” Her voice was quiet as her gaze roamed over the features of his face and down over his clothes.
He’s cute.
The relaxed fit of his jeans made her fingers twitch, wanting to pull them off. Her panties felt like they were steaming.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Steve’s voice was low as his arm brushed hers.
“No.”
His flip flop nudged her boot, making her look down. She hadn’t even noticed how close he was to her, how he’d moved the chair to face her.
She was the center of his attention.
“Seems weird, a girl like you being single.”
“Like me?” Daphne’s shoulders hitched, knowing how different she looked from the way he was dressed.
“Yeah. Beautiful. Sweet.”
When he leaned toward her to tuck her hair behind her ear, she smiled at him. “Those lines always work for you?”
“What?” His hand froze behind her ear, his eyebrows knitting together. “What lines?”
Reading his face, she felt her mouth drop open as she searched his face. “You meant that.”
“Yeah. Why would I lie?”
To get in my pants. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t voice them. Something told her he meant what he said.
She sat up straighter, aware of the way her tank clung to her breasts, her thong rode between her ass cheeks, and the drape of her plaid skirt on her thighs. His gaze burned over every line of her body. It made her feel like a woman. Sexual, but more than that. Like she was worth something.
“You might lie, because everyone lies,” Daphne answered slowly. “But maybe tonight, you’re telling me the truth.”
He winced and set his empty beer to the side of the chair, never breaking eye contact. “Honey, I don’t know who fucked you up into thinking you’re not beautiful or sweet, but you’re both. And to be quite honest with you, whoever treated you like you’re less than that is a fucking idiot.”
She trailed her fingers down his arm, resting them in the sweaty crook of his elbow. “Thank you.”
Steven looked at her hand and let his gaze travel up her arm to her face and met her eyes again. His other hand came over hers.
“Experienced, Steven?” The words fell from her lips in a jolting breath.
“Sexually?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Just my first and my girlfriend. We broke up before I came down here. Just in case. I miss her.”
“Who broke up with who?”
“Mutual. She’s logical. Didn’t want to have me cheat on her if I was coming down to Florida and seeing all the hot chicks at the beach. Getting drunk. All that.”
“But you haven’t done that.”
“No.”
“Would you?”
His gaze finally travelled to her cleavage. Glanced over her body, then met her eyes again. “Are you offering?”
Shoes scuffed on the ground behind them. A sniffle. The masculine voice clearing his throat.
Josh.
Daphne didn’t look back, keeping eye contact with Steve. “I’m not saying no.”
“It’s not like we could get any privacy.”
She nodded and scooted closer to his chair, letting their linked hands dangle over the side of her leg, drifting over the inside of her thigh. “Do we need privacy, Steve? Maybe it would be fun to include... everyone.”
“Everyone?” As soon as the word left his lips, his mouth hung open. He leaned closer. “Sex? You, me, and Josh?”
It was something she’d fantasized about before, but could never do. Not with anyone who knew her. Not with Pierce or the other two exes. Daphne had cared what they thought about her. Wanted to be with them, all in. No distractions, nothing that might damage what they had together.
This was different.
She bit her lip and an excited shiver ran through her shoulders. “Would I be his first?”
Another fantasy. Something she’d never admit to with any of her other friends. She wasn’t ashamed, but no one needed to know everything about her.
“Yes.” Steve squinted at her. “You like that, don’t you?”
Shrugging, Daphne glanced at the road again. At the ghosts of buildings behind it, unlit. Like physical echoes of herself. “I’ve thought about it.”
“Thought about what?” Josh settled into his creaking lawn chair, hooking his hand around the body of his bottle.
Everything seemed to slow. The grin that crossed Steve’s face. The air she sucked into her humid lungs. Josh’s innocent gaze brought a weight to her that superseded everything else.
What the hell am I thinking?
____
To be continued...
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