A steady thrum of music and heavy bass sent vibrations through the club.
The smell of sweat, musk, and alcohol hung heavily in the air as I threw myself back against the thick body of King.
He grabbed my hips, clasping his large dark-toned fingers on my flesh and slipping one of those hands down the front of my mini skirt to teasingly touch me. An electric thrill ran through me, and I moaned aloud, leaning back to rest my head in the space where his collarbone met his neck.
Nobody could hear us; the music was too loud. Nobody could see us, the lights flashed far too quickly in their flickering neon to alert anyone to the fact that King was now full-on fingering me in the middle of this club.
I swelled, rubbing my ass in circles against his hard-on that was tucked right up against me. King’s luscious lips crashed hungrily against my neck, and he swirled a slick finger around my clit.
The world around was disolving into flashing, pulsing, and gyrating, when suddenly King grabbed me by my hair. He pulled his hand from my skirt, then tugged at my blonde hair to lead me toward a bathroom.
He practically kicked the door to the bathroom open, revealing a group of startled inhabitants who were huddled around a pile of white powder on the bathroom counter.
“Get the fuck out,” King demanded in a gruff, cruel voice. A voice that I feared just as much as I craved.
I watched as he stepped toward them, striking a hand through the powder and sending them running. He was massive, he had to duck through doorways… and when a man that size tells you to get out, you had better listen.
With the two of us left in the room, King points to the edge of the counter. A silent demand… one that I obey. He snatched me by the throat, the other hand guiding my waist as he placed me on the countertop.
“You aren’t wearing underwear.”
I nod, my eyes meeting his in the dim lighting. My heart ached… but my pussy craved more.
A smirk crawls across his face in a menacing fashion, and he nodded, “You knew I’d want to fuck you brainless. Especially after watching those guys have their way with you, earlier today.”
A flash of annoyance. Why did he have to bring up work?
He unhooked his belt and yanked out his massive cock.
He presented it at my entrance, no need for additional lubrication as I was already wet enough. He pushed inside of me, and I swear, I could see stars! He was just that perfect size that made you feel completely and utterly full of cock… which, I might add, is significantly better than being completely devoid of cock.
He grabbed my hair and pulled it roughly to one side, sucking the pigment from my lips as he thrust into me. I could feel myself trembling lightly…
But it was all over too soon, and within two more thrusts, King pulled himself from inside of me and emptied his load all over the front of my black leather mini skirt.
That annoyance from before? Oh… it’s back.
He smirked as he stood back, “You were shaking then! Must have felt great!”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, feeling my pussy begging for more, but knowing it would have to settle for nothing else.
King grinned and turned to wash his hands. “I’m gonna go for a smoke. Meet me at the car when you’re ready.”
“No need,” I pushed myself off the counter, “Let’s go. I’ll wait in the car for you to smoke.”
His eyes narrowed, “Don’t be a bitch, Valentine. I’ll make sure Lorenzo teaches you how to behave.”
A callous laugh escaped my lips, and I step toward the door, my ass shaking intentionally as I push through, leaving him in there on his own.
I continued out through the front door that led to the exit on South Jeff Davis and started the walk through the mostly quiet streets toward the shiny black Range Rover that King had parked outside of a nice steakhouse up the road.
“Hey!” King called after me, “What the fuck is your problem?”
I ignored him, acting as though I couldn’t hear him over the sound of occasionally passing cars. The cool night air was enough to sober anyone up… even from a full night of debauchery and disappointment.
King continued to yell at me, getting closer to me by the second. His legs were so long that one of his strides matched three of my own. But as I grew closer to the slick black automobile, I noticed a familiar silhouette leaning against the wrought metal wall of the steakhouse, a cigarette in hand. My heart lurched in my chest as I immediately fell back a few steps.
It was Cain.
I couldn’t let him see me like this…
Covered in cum…
Well…
I guess he has probably seen me in worse conditions.
He hadn’t seen me yet, and for a millisecond, I hoped it would stay that way. That he wouldn’t glance at me with those blue eyes… those fucking… Ugh!
It doesn’t matter.
It never mattered.
I will never find peace.
King grabbed me by my wrist and turned me abruptly to pin me to the car. That feeling of exhilaration that I had once felt with his presence, instantly faded to black and I stared at the towering man above me with fear locked away behind my brown eyes, trembling.
Cain…
I wanted help.
I wanted to escape.
I wanted to leave.
“You little bitch! Why can’t you just act right?” King shouted, a bead of saliva crashing against my eyebrows as he did. His hand pinned mine above my head with brute force, enough to leave the imprint of my knuckles on the door of his luxury rental car.
I gritted my teeth, feeling anger bubbling from within me, “Why can’t you fuck a woman right?” I shouted through my clenched jaw.
That was it.
That one did it…
King lifted his other hand and crashed the heel of his palm against my cheek with a loud enough sound to echo in the block of city buildings.
“Hey! Fuck off!” Cain’s voice boomed.
Fuck. Fuck
Fuck.
FUCK.
“Who the hell is you?” King snaps back. His grip tightened on my wrist.
I felt a whimper escape from between my teeth, “Focus!” I managed in a pained shout.
In an instant, Cain stiffened and stepped back.
King looked at him, then at me. His eyes narrowed, deepening with a haunting anger. “How the fuck does he know that word?”
“You should really fucking listen when she says it, dude.” Cain interjected, a deadly serious tone coating each word.
“Oh yeah?” King scoffed, letting go of my wrist to face him, unknowingly biding me a bit of time. “Why do you think you get to tell me what the fuck to do?”
Cain laughs, “I don’t, I am only offering you some advice.”
I stepped back, heart racing as I watched King tower over Cain, but this didn’t seem to faze Cain.
My mind raced and anger pulled its way through my veins, sapping every ounce of gratitude I had from my conscience and a blind, unabated rage buzzed through me. I watched with balled-fists as these two fucking dickheads stared each other down.
“King,” I growled, eyes narrowed angrily.
His head snapped in my direction, an eyebrow raised.
“Take me home,” I demanded, arms crossed in front of my chest.
I could feel his gaze on me… confused. He stepped away from Cain and threw himself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed.
Now alone on the street with the man who caused my entire world to crash and burn around me not too long ago, I stepped lightly toward the passenger side door and slipped inside.
Cain’s eyes never moved from the wall to his left. Shaded by his brown hair. He flicked the cigarette down and snuffed it with a crunch of his boot, and then slipped back inside.
He never once fucking looked my way.
“Who the hell is he, Valentine?” King grumbled, pulling off from the curb with a loud rev of his engine.
My own eyes cast downward, and I sighed softly, “Nobody you need to worry about, King. Just take me home please.”
“Motherfucker should know better than to fucking speak to me when I am taking care of my bitch,” he growled, eyes bulging as he gripped the steering wheel tight enough for his dark skin to lighten.
That fucking title…
I was nobody’s bitch.
I was nobody’s fucking property!
“Maybe you shouldn’t call me your bitch. I don’t remember being anyone’s possession,” I fired back with angst on my tongue.
King looked over at me, “Yeah?” He chuckled, shaking his head, “I bet you were his bitch. Weren’t ya? No other reason he’d get all stiff and shit when you-”
“Can you shut the fuck up and do your job? Just drive the fucking car.” My eyes locked on the road with a burning pain seeping from behind my sockets.
King hated being spoken to like this, but for some reason he was letting me off. He seemed angrier to have been challenged by another man than to be disrespected by the whore he toted around in his luxury rental car.
He pulled the car to a sudden stop when his phone rang and turned it on speaker as Lorenzo’s voice peeled over the stereo system, “Hello King, how was the show?”
King’s eyes darted to me, “The show was fucking fine, boss man. But your little princess, ain’t been so fine.”
“What is she doing?” Lorenzo’s voice sounded enthused.
Bleh.
“Aw, man. She wasn’t fucking listening to me, so I grabbed her and this random ass motherfucker tried to square up. I swear to you, Zo, I would have beat his ass, but then little Valentine over here said her safe-word and his ass froze like the pussy he is and backed away.” King laughed, triumphant in the non-existent fight that he couldn’t have won to begin with.
Lorenzo chuckled, “Some random man responding to Valentine’s safe-word?” He asked, mischief hinting in his voice as he laughs in response, “What did he look like.”
I felt panic rise to my chest and shouted to the stereo, “just some random person, Lorenzo. Bug off.”
But King was persistent, “Nah, nah. Zo he was massive, man. I mean, not bigger than me but he was huge, bro! Covered in tattoos and shit.”
“Cain?” Lorenzo’s words shot straight through me, a blade of ice that impaled me, pinning me to the seat. I felt the interior of the car around me beginning to lessen, like the walls were closing in.
King looked over at me, “What? THAT was Cain?” He snapped, “And you didn’t fucking tell me? I would have ended him!”
“Stop,” I demanded, throwing my hands over my face in frustration. My heart thumped hard against my chest.
“What was Cain doing there, Valentine?” Lorenzo pushed.
It felt like the gremlin was crawling through the phone to nibble at the last shred of sanity I had left from this bullshit night. And he didn’t seem to enjoy the long pause of frustrated silence that I allowed to permeate in the car.
He growled, “Valentine?”
I threw my hands up in defeat, ripping my seatbelt from the clip and forcing the door open to the car.
Before King could stop me, I took off running back in the opposite direction.
I searched for an open door, a busy restaurant, somewhere that I could slip into and disappear.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I could almost feel King’s breath on my neck.
Suddenly, a hand reached from around a corner and pulled me into an alleyway. A second hand clasped tight across my mouth as a heavy weight pushed my body against a sharp brick wall.
Terror surged through my nerves as I reached up to grasp at the hand that covered my mouth. The heat of the air increased sharply with each nauseating breath and less oxygen entered my lungs than necessary. I scratched at the hand, feet writhing against the wall.
All I could think is that if King caught me, I’d be as good as dead.
Darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision as burning tears fell down my cheeks, but a face lowered and let out a long “hush,” then the hand peeled from my mouth and cupped my cheek.
It felt so familiar.
So warm.
The heavy, clumsy sound of footsteps clambered down the sidewalk, and just as they nearly reached us, the weight shifted, blocking me from the view of the street. The sound of heavy footsteps continued for a moment, but the panic in my body still returned briefly as the footsteps once again returned, but with a barrage of curses and shouting as I heard the car in the distance start up and skid quickly away.
I finally felt a breath release, and as the squeal of luxury tires and an expensive rental fee faded into the distance, the weight that held me still against the wall pulled away and streetlight illuminated the soft brown curls of the man that had held me.
Cain stared down… well… around me, I guess. His gaze never actually locked onto me. My own gaze, however, locked directly onto him.
This welling of extreme emotions swirled in my mind, and I felt dizzy. It was far too much, so any semblance of direct emotion drained rapidly from my face, and I stared directly at Cain with eyes that probably could have killed him a few too many times for his own comfort.
“Thanks,” I muttered under my breath, dropping the gaze which I had afforded him to my feet.
Cain pulled in a quick breath of air through his nose and held it in his chest. It seemed to hang there in his lungs forever before he finally let out a long, steady stream of air. The silence hung over us just like it always used to, but Cain seemed so much more accustomed to it now. He reveled in it.
“Adam?” A man’s voice called from the front door of the steakhouse. A man who I recognized, but not quite sure where I recognized him from, peeked his head around the corner. His big, green, fatherly eyes danced between us in confusion.
Cain’s gaze lifted to meet the new man’s face, and his entire demeanor changed. His stiff shoulders relaxed and fell into an at eased position. His blue eyes sparkled and he adjusted his hair so that it no longer eclipsed his face. He beamed at this man with a kind smile, “Thank you for the invite tonight, Roy. It was really lovely to get out of the house.”
The man… Roy… nodded with a bright smile, “An old friend of yours?” He nodded to me.
Cain didn’t turn to look back in my direction, “Yeah. I guess you could say that. We were colleagues once upon a time.” He explained.
Roy smiled, “It is good to see you socializing, kid. I’ll see you at work on Tuesday?”
Cain nodded, his eyes never losing that consistent, bright connection with the older man. He waved lightly to him as Roy disappeared back around the corner.
But as Roy faded into the distance, so too did the easy-going, bright expression on Cain’s face. He turned his body back to face me, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark-wash denim jeans, with his gaze moving about his boots.
“Are you safe?” he asked, his voice hardly reaching more than a whisper.
I don’t think a single ounce of me wanted to answer his question affirmatively. My eyes softened, but I turned to face away from him, looking further into the alley now, “He knows everything… He knows where I live.”
“Are you safe?” He repeated.
As if I didn’t fucking hear him the first time.
I groaned and rubbed my temples, “Fuck off Cain,”
“Adam…”.
I glanced back and he was looking into the alley beyond our position as well. “I prefer Cain.”
“I won’t answer to it.”
I scrunched my nose up, “Well, that’s fine. I don’t plan to fucking use it.” I grumbled, bringing my hand to cup my neck anxiously.
Silence.
When I turned back in his direction, I half expected him to be gone, but he wasn’t. He was there. Motionless. Once more, he asked that fucking question. “Are you safe?”
He really pissed me off.
He made me want to break things.
I clenched my fists tight, searching for a way to tell him to fuck off once and for all. The more I searched, the more hopeless I felt, and the more the reality of my situation hit me.
My shoulders fell and I hung my head.
“Come on,” Cain turned from me, pausing at the entrance of the alleyway. He did this when he wanted me to follow him. He always did. Like when I was late and he showed up at the apartment I shared with Finn. When I was the last to leave the dressing room. When I was the last to leave the car. He always waited for me.
Self-absorbed dickhead.
He MUST have a savior complex. He has to!
I swallowed my pride and stepped toward him. He led me down the road to where his Cobalt was parked, and he then slipped into the driver’s side door.
I deliberated for a moment. Should I turn and run? A part of me wanted him to drive away and leave me here, but he didn’t. He waited.
Soon, I persuaded myself to pull open the passenger side door and sit down inside the vehicle. His smell hit me immediately; an intoxicating slap in the face of nostalgia that caused a burning ache in my chest. The scent of my own destruction.
Cain waited until I was buckled, then cranked the car and drove in the direction of my old apartment. I narrowed my eyes skeptically until he took a turn towards College Park.
Just before he exited Metro Central, he pulled into an apartment complex with a gate around it. The car slowed as it approached the gate, and then as if by magic, it opened and allowed the Cobalt to enter.
He pulled the car through a small winding road until he reached a duplex with a two-car garage underneath it. He pushed a button clipped to the visor above him and half of the garage began to open. With a final maneuver, the car pulled to its stop inside of the garage, right beside a vacant, slick-black Dodge Charger.
“Please don’t hit the Charger with your door.” He asked softly, removing his keys from the ignition and pressing the button above him to close the garage door. He then stepped out of the car and started to walk toward a set of stairs that would lead to the duplex’s entrance.
I pushed the door open carefully and stepped slowly behind him.
Now it was my turn to be silent.
As Cain pushed through to the entrance of his home, he removed his shoes and placed them on a small mat that held two other pairs of shoes. One pair of boots that were similar to those that he had just removed, and a pair of normal tennis shoes that looked well worn.
I nervously slipped my stilettos off my feet and then placed them on the edge of the mat.
The sudden chime of Cain’s phone went off and he answered it, walking through the white hallway to a carpeted lounge that was deep grey plush, and held an L-shaped sectional couch with a decently decorated interior.
“Hi Mags,” he says into the phone, the speaker pressed to his ear. That smile grew on his face again, along with a burning in my belly. He crashed into the couch with his cell phone in hand, “No, no. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
I could hear Mags’ muffled arguing on the other end, and Cain’s face brightened with a bit of delight.
“No, Mags. Tell this King guy that if he wanted to know where his bitch was, maybe he should start by checking under his left fucking testicle.” Cain glanced in my direction, seeing that I was still was standing by the entrance.
He motioned to the couch, and I reluctantly approached to sit down at the far end.
“Do you really think that Val would trust me? Of all the people in this world? You’re literally her best friend. Maybe you should call her yourself.” He paused to listen, his eyes glistening in mischief. “You know, Mags, maybe you should tell His Royal Highness to step off his fucking high horse and actually do his fucking job and look for his bitch, and not rely on other people for help.” He removed the phone from his ear and ended the call, but I watched him type something furiously into a text message. He then placed his phone on the couch and leaned back into his spot.
For a few minutes, we stayed silent. I didn’t know what to say or do, and he didn’t say or do anything. Eventually though, I became keenly aware that my clothing was absolutely disgusting. I had actually managed to forget about the massive cum stain that had now dried on the front of my mini-skirt, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.
Cain’s eyes landed on my figure for a few seconds, then he stood and disappeared down a corridor that I hadn’t travelled yet. When he returned, he had a towel in his hands alongside a pair of boxer shorts and a long, oversized T-shirt. He placed them on the couch beside me, then returned to his spot on the other end of the couch. “Bathroom is down the hall. First door on the left. You may use my products.” He motioned down the hall from whence he came.
My eyes looked to the pile of fabric, then down the hall. I released the hem of my skirt and stood, retrieving the items from my side and slinking toward where he had directed me.
The bathroom itself was very clean, as was the rest of Cain’s house. It didn’t feel lived in at all, really. Like he just decided to appear in the showroom lot of this complex at the edge of Atlanta.
I set the clothes down on the counter and pulled myself free from the annoyingly tight outfit I was wearing. It was only now that I noticed the various dried substances all over my body.
I shuddered in disgust and turned on the water for the shower.
Steam slowly filled the room, surrounding me in soft flowing clouds of translucent white. I stepped in and pulled the curtain closed, sinking beneath the warmth of the water.
As it touched my face, I felt myself beginning to crumble.
It had been about a month since I had access to a hot shower. I’d been using the showers at a gym recently… As, I fucked the manager, and in return he would let me use the facilities on occasion. But the hot water never worked.
The soft embrace of heat enveloped me, and I felt this intense relief, a few stupid tears falling down my cheeks. I felt so safe here… Why the fuck do I feel so safe here?
Cain is literally in the next room, and I can feel this rush of emotions that I had managed to keep at bay for so long, suddenly crashing through me… but at least he couldn’t see me cry. At least I could pretend to be stronger than I was.
I grabbed the soap from a shower caddy and coated my body in it, scrubbing as if I wanted to remove the skin itself. I lathered the soap onto my face to remove my makeup, even though I knew for a fact it would dry my face out. I wanted to scrub hard enough to mask the redness from crying.
After I felt sufficiently clean, I shut the water off and took a deep breath as I stepped onto the soft white bathmat that lays in front of the tub.
Once I dressed myself and wrapped the towel around my long, blonde, sopping-wet hair, I stared at the doorknob anxiously.
How the fuck did I end up here?
I glanced into the mirror beside me, and despite the fog I could see my outline. The swirl of a towel on top of my head, blue t-shirt that would have been oversized on anyone, and a pair of boxer shorts that were also slightly too big for me. With a final breath, I pulled the door open and emerged into the crisp, cool air of the hallway.
Cain was seated in the living room wearing a pair of black pajama trousers and a white t-shirt. Lounged back with a bottle of some sort of craft beer clasped to his hands. Something was different though, perched on his nose was a pair of glasses.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I said softly as I returned to the lounge. In my spot, Cain had placed a folded blanket, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of the same beer. My heart fluttered slightly.
Cain didn’t respond.
I sat down, pulling the blanket over my knees as I glanced at the television to see what he was watching. It was a rerun of the Big Bang Theory.
Cain eventually sat forward and placed the empty bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of him. Then he clenched his fist and squinted, before dipping to grab it again and standing up. He entered the kitchen which was visible from where I stood to throw the bottle in the garbage.
Why did he do that?
He returned to the edge of the lounge, staring at the TV with his arms crossed in front of him. I took this opportunity to look at him. His biceps seemed larger than they used to be. Thick chorded muscles bulged beneath his sleeves. Covered in tattoos, including one piece that I didn’t think I quite recognized. A sketched piece on his bicep just below the cuff of his sleeve, the imprint of a lipstick mark.
Cain seemed to catch my gaze and turned his attention back to me.
For the first time in our lives, he actually looked at me…
Not through me…
Not towards me…
At me.
His expression was flat, as if he wasn’t thinking of anything. And then after a few seconds of sharing eye contact, he returned his glance to the TV.
I pulled the blanket closer around myself, then looked down at the bottle of beer, “Cain…”
He turned his head to me.
“May I have a bottle opener, please?” I muttered.
Cain turned to grab it from the kitchen counter and then walked back towards me. At first, he extended it out, but then snatched it away from me at the last second as I went to grab it.
“Adam,” He corrects softly.
I stared at the bottle opener, then glanced up at him. His brown curls shadowed his eyes lightly, but not enough to block them from view.
I nibbled the inside of my lip, “Adam.” I echoed.
He nodded once, allowing me to now retrieve the bottle opener. But as I took it, he stayed in place, staring down at the bottle with an obsessive amount of attention. I popped the cap, and he instantly extended his hand to retrieve both the cap and the opener, before then returned it to the kitchen and tossing the cap into his trash can.
Why was he being so obsessive?
After this, he sat down in his place again and the episode ended, leaving us sitting awkwardly in silence as we waited for the next to start.
“Um… Thank you for tonight,” I said softly.
Cain… Adam glanced over to me and nodded slowly with a shrug, “I mean, I told you before.”
“Told me what?” I asked.
An eyebrow lifted from its normal place, and he chuckled, shaking his head. “I told you that I would protect you whether it was my job or not.”
My heart beat heavily in my chest, but he wasn’t finished.
“Of course, that was before I found out about Conor…”
The air fell cold between us, and he ensured his eyes were glued to the television, “But a promise is a promise.”
I looked down at the blanket that covered my lap, my eyes welling as I studied the pattern. Guilt bubbled, and I placed the beer on the coffee table.
His eyes shot to the bottle, but I quickly grabbed a coaster to quell his anxieties.
“I need to tell you something,” I said softly.
His eyes moved from the condensation dripping down the glass of the bottle to my hands that now rested in my lap, then they finally flicked up to zero in on my eyes. A silent act of encouragement.
I felt a lump growing in my throat and I drew in a deep breath, throwing my hands over my face, “I wasn’t entirely forthcoming when you asked me about your brother.” I admitted, feeling the anxiety tingling in my chest. His eyes narrowed inquisitively, and I felt like I may explode. “And… Lorenzo wasn’t truthful with you either.”
He seemed to reel back, rolling his eyes, “Listen… I know you might be trying to manipulate this into it not being your fault, but I literally watched you put poison into my brother’s mouth.”
I frowned, “Okay, first of all, I’m not trying to manipulate anything…”
Adam sighed and shook his head, “Look, Valentine. I have done enough already, giving you a place to stay. I could have left you out there on the street.”
Tears welled in my eyes from frustration, and I groaned, “Please let me explain.”
He exhaled mockingly as he leaned back against the back rest of the sofa, arms crossed in a clear defensive position over his chest.
Choking down a gulp, I continued.
“Lorenzo uses me a bit differently than the other girls. He always has. About five years ago, he forced me to kill my first victim.” I stared into the knit pattern of the blanket to avoid his eyes, “Since then, I have killed about fifteen men… all under the guise of an escort service. All ordered by Lorenzo for one reason or another.” I choked back my words, “Conor was apparently a regular user of Lorenzo’s services… and hadn’t paid him in over a year.”
I could feel the heat of his gaze, but a part of me was terrified to lift my head to meet his eyes.
“The last man I killed… I was with you… Neil. He was a bird scientist. Shrimp allergy.” I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders from all of the pent-up thoughts.
“When you asked me about Conor, I wanted to tell you, but you were so hurt. So angry… I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t bring myself to admit, that to you, I was a murderer.” A single tear slipped down my cheek.
Adam was silent, but I could feel the atmosphere cool as he turned his gaze away from me, fixing it on the far wall where a door sat untouched. I assume it was the door to Conor’s bedroom.
“Valentine,” he said coldly, but this time I stood my ground. This time I didn’t waver under the weight of my emotions.
“Becca,” I corrected, my eyes lifting to search for his. I nearly lost it when I saw that he was staring directly at me, peering deep into my eyes as if to search for a hint of a lie.
His eyes softened and he nodded, “Becca.”
He said my name. Tasting it like it had some semblance of texture that he would have to get used to.
“Are you telling me that this whole time, I have been blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault?”
My heart ached, and I shook my head, “No. I did kill him.” I muttered, “I killed all of those men…”
Adam pushed himself to the edge of his seat and sighed, “You didn’t want to kill those men any more than you wanted to fuck those degenerate assholes who request your services from Lorenzo.” He rolled a hand through his hair with yet another sigh.
“For Fucks-sake.” He muttered breathlessly, pulling his hands to cover his face, “Fuck!”
Adam stood and slammed his hand into the arm of the couch. The whole room rattled under his sheer force.
I looked down at my hands, clasping them together in my lap, one more tear slipping out.
I didn’t fear him the way that I feared other men. With him, anger was personal. He kept it to himself and treated those whom he treasured as obsessively as he treated his home.
He turned around to face me again, but for the first time, I truly and wholly felt the veil between us finally lift.
His eyes narrowed in a fiery acknowledgement of my pain and struggle. But he softened at the sight of my tears.
Adam stepped closer and knelt down before me on the floor. Somehow, he was still taller than me. His hands reached up and cupped my cheeks, thumbs swiping the residual wetness from my cheeks as his blue eyes stared softly into mine.
“Becca, I meant what I said to you that night,” he admitted, “I hope you know that I want to work towards making sure that I can rewrite those words and put them into the present tense.”
My eyes fluttered as the pink warmth of a blush began to climb over my cheeks. I remembered that night so vividly, the pain and devastation that I had felt. But I knew exactly what he meant. The words that hurt me more than anything else.
Adam gently leaned his forehead against mine, “I promise I want to fix this. I want to fix everything…”
I felt my arms begin to tremble and tears began to slip down my cheeks as something that was broken deep inside of me started to heal. He continued to swipe away the tears gently with his thumbs and pulled his face away from mine, “I’m so sorry for not giving you the space to explain…”
I shook my head, “Even if you had, I wouldn’t have… I was too scared of Lorenzo.” I muttered.
His eyes softened and he pulled his hands away, wiping the tear-soaked skin on the soft black fabric of his trousers, “What changed?”
My eyes widened and I froze, a soft, almost imperceptible shake of my head.
Adam reached a hand to circle around my wrist and his thumb rubbed soothingly along my forearm.
A sob left my lips as I melted in his grip, “I…” I tried to speak, but coughed out a sob instead, “I think the thought of dying was more welcoming than the thought of continuing on in this world without you to hold my wrist like this when I needed it.”
The blue of his eyes melted into a storm of raging ocean, and he tugged me forward from the couch.
I thought for sure that he would kiss me again like he had that night… in fact, I craved that, but instead he pulled me into his lap and encircled me in the tightest hug he could muster without hurting me. His hand braced my lower back and the other gripping at the towel that now very loosely clung to my wet hair.
I grasped at him, my hands gripping around the fabric of his shirt as I fell into his warmth. He held me there until the rapture of emotions inside of me had calmed and I was finally able to breathe clearly for the first time in a long while.
He pressed his chin lightly to my hair, “Remember when we were on the beach. You asked me to hold you.”
I nodded.
“I dream of that day every night. I miss you, especially when I smell salty-air, vanilla and coconut…” He rubbed my back soothingly, pressing his own back against his coffee table. “I’m so sorry for the way that I treated you.”
I shook my head lightly, “It isn’t your fault.” I muttered.
He sighed and nodded softly, resting his chin on my head again. His arms embraced me as though I would slip away from him. As if he was worried that I would try to flee.
I wouldn’t lie…
I felt an extreme urge to ask him to have sex with me. A drive to make him happy in the only way I knew how…
But I wanted this to be different.
I wanted to feel different.
I can’t believe that I ever hated this man.
I could’t believe that I was unable see the heartbreak staring me straight in the face as Mags and Sasha peeled me off of the tarmac that night. Then the following slow decline into madness as I allowed it to eat away.
I can’t believe that anyone like him could want somebody like me…
A big part of me wanted to run. To ask him to save himself… Save himself from a life full of lies and a heart full of pain and sorrow.
I was sick, and I worried that he would never understand my sickness. The paths I take never seem to go well; failure follows behind all of my choices like a shadow.
I feel my head sink into his chest with morose submission, but rather than let go, Adam tightened his grip. He held me tighter than before, cementing me right there in place, surrounded by the protective spell that he cast.
Maybe I could get used to this.