Destiny Ch. 01

Note: this story contains drug use, nonconsent, and a large age gap. Please consider before reading.

All participants in this work are above the age of 18.

Also, the story is slow as it is multiparted. Have patience.

-----------------

Destiny clicked her lighter furiously, but no luck. She huffed around the cigarette clamped between her teeth, again trying to light the damn thing.

It was a crisp, cold November day. A frigid breeze blew off Lake Huron, ruffling her hair. She was hidden in the far back corner of her high school parking lot. The spot was shaded from view among some tall pine trees that grew along the edge of the school grounds. Several misshapen logs and plastic outdoor chairs were scattered in the spaces between the trees. Destiny had been in 7 different high schools in the past 3 and a half years, and one thing that they all had in common with a designated smoking spot among the students. This one had the added advantage of not being visible from the school itself, hiding its occupants from prying teacher eyes.

Just as Destiny was going to make another attempt to light her smoke, an older model pickup truck pulled into the parking lot. It weaved its way among the various cars to this exact back corner. At first, it seemed the driver, a man with closely cropped dark hair, hadn't noticed her. Once he'd parked, the truck stalling once in the process, he killed the engine, then typed something into his phone.

It was obvious he was not a parent or a student so Destiny chose to ignore him. She shook her lighter a couple times, then flicked it again. But it didn't light.

Annoyed, she stuffed the empty lighter into her pocket and glanced at the clock on her phone. She had stayed in math class exactly half an hour, making sure the teacher took attendance before she had skipped out while his back was turned. It wasn't that Destiny didn't care about school. She completed all of her assignments and got relatively good grades, considering how little time she spent in class. It was just that after being the new kid so many times she had very little patience for actually being in school. This particular learning institution had become particularly brutal.

Twin Fields Secondary School was on the outskirts of Goldfore Pines, the midsized Ontario town her mother and she had relocated to three months ago. It was populated by children who had known each other since birth. Destiny was the new kid, who's white trash mom had given her an over-the-top white trash name. Her mother, Paris, had worked what jobs she had to since she'd had Destiny at 14. Currently, she was a maid at the trucker motel just outside of town. In the past, she stripped, cleaned, sold shoes, bartended, even had worked as a sex worker for a while when Destiny was 8. Whatever she had to do to keep a roof over their heads and cigarettes in her pocket. Not always in that order.

It wasn't that the kids at Twin Fields were snobs, it was just that Destiny was too new and too different. She wore tight black clothes, beat up black Converse, and lots of dark eye makeup. She was shy and smoked cigarettes.

But the smokers and the burnouts who Destiny inevitably fell in with anywhere else had distanced themselves from her. Her mom became notorious almost instantly wherever they went for bad behaviour, public disturbances, and causing problems at any local bar.

It didn't phase Destiny much anymore. She'd be finished high school in the spring and planned to move out the next day. Probably hitchhike to Toronto or something.

Destiny glanced back towards the truck curiously. The man was still in the front seat. He seemed to be waiting for someone, as he kept glancing back towards the school every so often. Destiny glanced away before he caught her looking at him. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea, which men often seemed to do in Destiny's experience. Rather, she started digging through her faded shoulder bag, hoping to find a lighter or a book of matches. Or even just one match, she was dying for a cigarette.

She heard the truck door open but didn't look up until she heard the crunch of gravel and knew he was coming towards her.

"Need a light?" A rough voice growled. Looking up, Destiny was taken aback by a pair of soft green eyes drilling into her cold grey ones. She felt moisture pool between her thighs as she looked him over. He wore faded blue jeans and a baggy flannel sweater. He had big calloused hands and wore beat up Timberland boots. She wanted to feel those hands scraping against her delicate, pale skin.

Destiny realized he was waiting for her to respond. "Oh. Right. Um... yes. Yes, please. If you... if you have one..." she felt a blush spread from the roots of her long dark curls to the place between her thighs, which was already swollen and wet.

The man reached into the chest pocket of his shirt and pulled a lighter out, handing it to her. She lit her smoke and went to hand it back to him, but he waved her away. "Don't worry about it."

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a cigarette case. He took one out, pulled another lighter from yet another pocket, and lit it. He was tall, his 6'5" dominating her small 5'2" frame.

"I'm Trent," the man said. His eyes travelled up and down her body, taking in the luscious full curves of her.

Destiny tucked a stray corkscrew curl behind her ear, which had several small gold rings adorning it. Her dark hair fell almost to her waist. Her jeans hugged her thick full waist and her breasts strained against the zipper of her puffy purple jacket. Underneath, they spilt out of her black sheer blouse. A ring hung from her left nostril, a stud adorned her right eyebrow. She had large icy grey eyes, surrounded by thick dark lashes. There was a bright red lipstick stain on the filter of her cigarette.

"Destiny," she answered. He held out his hand, which she shook. Her fingers were ice cold and small, the long nails painted a sparkly black.

"I don't think I've seen ya around." It wasn't a question, rather a statement.

"Hang around the high school a lot do you?" Destiny said sassily, raising her eyebrows. She was feisty, Trent thought, like a wild young filly. It made him want to break her.

"This is a small town," Trent explained. "I just mean I haven't seen you before. And I would remember if I had. As for hanging around the high school, I have a reason." His grin spread ear to ear, turning his strikingly handsome face almost goofy as his eyes glittered with humour. "My brother goes here. I'm dropping something off to him," he explained.

He moved to sit next to her. Normally, Destiny's first instinct would have been to move away, to distance herself from the man inserting himself into her space. She would have found it odd for a stranger to be so forward. But she was so sure that this was okay, that she was safe with him. He gave off calming vibes, striking her as someone solid and safe. Maybe it was his height, making her feel small and delicate. And yet she just knew he would protect her.

How could she explain this instant connection she felt? She couldn't.

"We only just moved here 3 months ago," Destiny explained, taking another puff of her cigarette. "My mom... her ummm... her new boyfriend lives here. We used to live in Huntsville but then she met him online and... well..." Destiny stopped, taking a final drag off her smoke and flicking it away.

"Who's the boyfriend?" Trent asked, watching her butt land on the concrete. He loved the lipstick stains. He wanted to taste her full lips, run his hands over her thick curves.

"Stevie Rogers."

"Hmm..." Trent huffed. There was recognition in his face, which Destiny guessed wasn't a good thing.

"Big change," Trent muttered sympathetically. "How are you liking it?" His face was sincere, as though he actually cared.

Destiny shrugged, kicking at the gravel around her petite feet. "It's okay. It's a standard small place surrounded by farms in a huge province full of other places surrounded by farms."

Just then Trent's phone buzzed. He glanced at it for a second then stood. "I'll be right back. Do me a favour?" He grinned down at her, that adorable, goofy smile coming back. "Don't go anywhere... unless you have to get back to class or something."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Nah, I'm good."

Trent started to extend his fingers, as though to brush the hair away from her face. But he stopped himself, cleared his throat, and stalked back to his truck. Opening the creaky door, he started rummaging around in his glove compartment.

At the far end of the parking lot, someone came out of the double doors of the school. It was a tall thin guy with the close cropped dark hair as Trent had. Destiny recognized him as Porter Bray, a kid from her English Studies class. Though he had the same hair, Porter was smaller and lankier than his older brother. There wasn't much hair on his jawline, unlike Trent's thick layer of stubble. His eyes were also a more subtle, darker green. Much less striking than the older man's.

Porter approached them, glancing between Destiny and Trent. Trent had finished rummaging in the glove compartment and had a package wrapped in brown paper in his thick hands. His smoke, almost to the filter now, was still dangling from his lips.

"Hey bro," Porter said. The men bumped fists and Trent handed him the package. Porter reached into his hoody pocket and slipped his older brother a wad of cash, before glancing at Destiny.

"Hey Destiny," he said, obviously confused by this situation. Yet his eyes still raked the girl's body, admiring her tight jeans. "Cut Mr Mason's class again?"

Destiny shrugged, glancing at her clock on her phone again. "It's not like he'll notice."

Porter chuckled, her eyes still looking at her appreciatively. "I take it you met my brother?"

"Yup. I guess I know where to get product now." She raised her pierced eyebrow and met them with an icy gaze.

"For you, any time, m'dear. Day... or night." It was out of Trent's mouth before he could stop it. He wasn't normally like this, so forward and open. But something about this sexy little piece had him puffing out his chest and showing off, like a male gorilla from the nature channel. He felt Porter look at him, surprised. But Destiny was grinning in a flirty kind of way and, honestly, he didn't care what his little brother thought.

Sure, he didn't even know how old she was. She looked sixteen or seventeen, but he couldn't be sure. He'd never been that guy; a thirty-something year old man who would pick up girls at his brother's high school. And yet, he couldn't get the image of Destiny, on her knees sucking his cock, out of his head.

Porter looked between the two and shook his head. "I gotta get back to class. Thanks, bro." The men clasped hands briefly. "See ya tomorrow Destiny." He offered her a little wave, and she nodded back, another cigarette clamped between her full red lips.

Trent's brother went back inside. Small snowflakes were floating past as the cold wind picked up, blowing off the nearby frozen lake. Destiny was fiddling with the black leather choker clasped around her neck.

"You going back to class?" Trent asked, watching her small fingers playing across her throat. For some reason, it was incredibly erotic to him.

Destiny shook her head, glancing at her phone again. Her math class was over in fifteen minutes and she had gym next. She had gone to two of those classes this semester, and honestly had no interest in playing a shitty badminton game today. Nor did she want to strip down in front of the gorgeous, tall, blonde girls in the locker room, who seemed to be the only type of girls in this town.

Destiny ran her fingers through the curls at the back of her neck. Trent's intense gaze was making her blush all over. She could feel the colour in her cheeks and was sure he had noticed. Her black cotton boyshort panties were soaked. The air around them, though so brisk on this late November afternoon, seemed thick and electric.

Trent glanced towards his truck. "Do you got a car here or...?"

Destiny shook her head. "Nah, I bus."

"Where's your place?"

"On Ronsdale Road."

Trent nodded. That was a street lined with cheap apartments, owned by a pair of slumlord brothers. It was notoriously rough and was where almost all of the town's major crimes took place. Some of Trent's best customers lived there.

"Can I give you a ride?" Trent asked.

Destiny shrugged. "I'm not going home just yet. My mom's boyfriend is there." She refused to meet his eyes, and alarm bells went off in Trent's head. He didn't pry, however.

"Would you... wanna get a coffee with me or something?" Trent felt stupid asking, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave this poor pale creature out here in the cold. Destiny blushed again, and Trent mentally kicked himself.

Destiny paused, her eyes narrowed. Normally, her instincts would be screaming at her to say no. This guy was too gorgeous, too big, too old. He looked to be in his mid 30s. And yet, she felt no panic. She wanted to be with him, in every conceivable way. She felt safe in his presence. His brother Porter, though he never bothered to actually engage with her, was always friendly and kind. He didn't hassle her in the same way that many boys here did. He had a nice smile, he held doors for her and said hi in the halls. His brother couldn't be much worse, could he?

The two sides, two conflicting ideals, battled in Destiny's head as she stared into Trent's deep green eyes, rimmed in long dark lashes. Destiny had never wanted to be like her Mom. She guarded her heart, kept herself safe and sought only pleasure from the men she gave herself to. And yet all that fear, all that wariness she normally felt in the presence of a man, had fallen away.

"Sure," Destiny agreed, surprising Trent. She stood and brushed off her jeans. They were tight and hugged her delectable curves. He casually placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her towards the truck's passenger door. Normally, Destiny would his shoved him away, angry at his casual and guiding touch. Instead, her skin burned delectably. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. This instant intense desire and connection between the two of them made her head swim.

"Just so you know, I don't let just anyone ride in The Truck," he growled as he boosted her up onto the high passenger seat.

"Oh?" She glanced around. The thing was worn, but obviously well maintained. The interior was leather. It was probably mid-90s. It smelled like tobacco and pine air fresheners, was tidy, with dark floor mats and a covered ashtray attached to the dash. The back seat had some miscellaneous items, like a water bottle, a phone charger, and a crumpled hoody. It was a relatively roomy cab.

Destiny wasn't surprised when the radio was tuned to the country station when he started the engine.

"Sorry," he muttered, quickly switching it to the Billboard station.

Destiny smiled at him. "I actually like some country stuff. I'm picky about music though." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't stick to one genre. I like some of everything. It just depends on the song and what space I am in when I listen to it."

"I'm not all that surprised to hear that. You strike me as someone who would be complicated." Trent grinned at her as they pulled out of the parking lot, his green eyes crinkling and dancing with humour.

She rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

He snorted and took a right along the small two-way highway which led back into town. They were quiet for a bit. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out with one hand. A client was asking for half an ounce and claimed to have the $200 they already owed him.

He glanced at her. Dare he ask if they could make the stop? But at that moment, Destiny was unzipping her jacket and Trent clenched his hands on the steering wheel, forcing himself to focus on the road. The girl was wearing a loose sheer blouse. Her full breasts were spilling over the scooped neckline. She was wearing a tight black cotton camisole underneath. At least 10 centimetres of soft pale stomach showed between her jeans and the undershirt. He could see the outline of her lace bra underneath. He wanted to peel her clothing away, kiss her breasts, feel the wetness between her thighs...

Destiny noticed the bulge in his Wranglers. He absently adjusted himself but she could see it straining against the fabric. He must be big... she thought to herself, licking her lips. They were both sneaking stolen glances at each other. Trent had to readjust again and cleared his throat. "Do you mind if we make a quick stop? I..." he cleared his throat again, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I need to drop something off to someone."

She grinned. "I have no plans." It was obvious to her what exactly Trent did, but she felt no need to say it out loud. She smoked weed and had experimented with other stuff. She liked the way drugs made her feel. Something about his career choice appealed to her; he seemed tough and dangerous, though she felt completely safe with him. He was someone who could protect her, provide for her...

Destiny groaned inwardly at the thought, disgusted with herself.

Growing up, she had been surrounded by it all. Her mom, Paris, had raised her alone. They were forever moving around, sometimes getting kicked out by whichever man Paris had at the moment, or they were evicted because she didn't pay rent. They bounced from town to town, chasing men and work. Paris loved to drink, would leave Destiny alone to go to the bar from the time the girl knew well enough not to burn the apartment down. Destiny had witnessed her mother and her mother's boyfriends snorting pills and smoking joints in the living room while Destiny watched cartoons. Destiny's life had been chaotic since before she could walk. She had never been entirely safe and constantly had to be the one defending herself; from her mother, from her mother's boyfriends, from kids at her schools. She had never had a sense of stability. She's only known this man for an hour, and yet she suddenly felt that sense that everyone else seemed to have. Of being cared for, of being safe and protected.

Destiny had learned about sex from Paris the day she first got her period, just before her 11th birthday. She had heard the noises from her mother's room for as long as she could remember but had never understood. Not that Paris had gone into those details, but it hasn't taken her long to put two and two together. She had seen naked men, either finding them passed out on the living room couch or walking in on the boyfriends in the bathroom when they hadn't closed the door. They had always made her feel uncomfortable, warm and flushed.

Once Destiny had filled out in her teenage years, she had noticed the effect she had on men; a few of her mom's boyfriends had made, usually drunken, advances on her. Twice, Destiny telling Paris about it had meant Paris being furious with her, telling her daughter she brought on the advances and to stop dressing like a prostitute. So Destiny stopped sharing these instances with her mother. The men quit touching her and grabbing her when Destiny kicked up a fuss, which she always did. It wasn't a surprise anymore, simply a side effect of having Paris Quint as a mother.

Destiny was definitely not a virgin. She'd had boyfriends, but had always been wary about getting too attached when she and Paris were so likely to move again. Sometimes, Destiny had forced herself to cut things off when she had met someone so incredible and she was likely to fall in love. Destiny had had sex with four men, always older than her. Destiny had always been more mature and serious than her peers, seeking the companionship of those equally mature and advanced. She had lost her virginity at 14 to a high school boy who took little care for it being her first time. After that experience, she sought the company of older men who took their time and showed her how glorious sex could be. And yet, it was always left Destiny feeling guilty and unfulfilled, empty and uneasy. It was no wonder these relationships, if you call them that, didn't last long.