Sophie
Phil walked out of the room, and for the first time in several hours I noticed my friends, who all had horror written on their faces. My gut dropped further. I knew I had let my desire to try and get some control over the situation take me to another level.
I thought if I knew all the details, I would at least feel empowered.
I didn't know why I’d thought that.
As Timko explained one vile act after the next, I felt nothing close to empowered. I stood in a trance, emotionless as I listened to evil acts and tried to rationalize in my head ways I could kill myself sooner should they ever gain access to me.
Ironically, I knew deep down that I would do everything to fight them off should they ever gain access to me. But I kept trying to figure out how to end it sooner if needed.
For the first time in my life, I wondered if that was how Eric felt when he shot himself—that he just needed to end it sooner.
The possible understanding of what he might have thought when pulling that trigger scared me.
Disgust and anger filled Phil’s face, along with fear and helplessness. After shooting me a disappointed glare, he left, and I realized that the others were still there.
Suddenly, I felt like I was drowning. Liv and Claire gave me sympathetic stares. Ethan glared at me. Tom's wet eyes were wide with horror, and his leg was twitching even though Liv had pressed her body against it.
I realized I had probably made Tom relive some of his childhood nightmares. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I looked at his blue eyes.
"Have you hit bottom now?" He blinked back tears, shook his head in disgust, and left the room. Liv shot me another pitying look and followed him.
My body crumpled into the chair, and I closed my eyes for several minutes. When I opened them, Ethan was gone. Only Claire remained; she sat in the chair across from me.
I muttered to her, "I'm sorry."
Claire nodded. "I know."
I waited for her to continue.
She nervously scanned my face. "I know you're going through a lot. And I won't begin to act like I know what you're going through. You're like a sister to me, honestly...and I love you...but I love Phil, too. I don't know what happened outside, but something obviously did."
"I told him to stop hiding what's going on."
"That's fair. You have a right to know what’s going on. What else did you tell him?"
"To stop making protecting me his job."
Claire jerked her head back. "Why would you do that?"
"Because I don't want him to feel guilty when someone finally kills me."
"You don't know that's going to happen."
I looked up at Claire. "I have over a thousand death threats. We only heard three dozen today."
"Yes. The worst ones. And I'm not downplaying it, but that’s why you have security."
"It's never going to end, Claire. It's constant."
She nodded. "Yeah. It sucks. But that's why Phil is working so hard to protect you. Tom, too."
"I know, and that's why they should stop. They have enough going on, and they don't need the guilt of my fate over their heads. I've lived with guilt my entire life, and the last thing I want is to put that on either of them."
Claire tilted her head at me.
"What?"
"You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"You think relationships are about playing it safe and pulling back when it gets too intense. Well, that's not love. Love's a gamble. You either get on the stage and go all in, or you get off the stage. You don't get to choose how someone loves and cares for you. You don't get to say, 'Hey, go ahead and love me, but don't try to help me'...and especially not with our men. So either go all in with Phil or get off the stage, because you're not just hurting yourself."
I winced. What she said hurt, because I knew she was right. But she wasn't done.
She stood up and quietly said, "It's Phil's choice to want to protect you, and if something God forbid did ever happen to you, then that's his gamble to take. There's plenty of women he could have chosen to be with, and he chose you. And he's telling you he loves you enough to take the gamble. He's all in, and you threw it in his face."
I looked at Claire in a panic.
She saw the panic in my eyes. "Like I said, I truly do love you, Sophie." She bit her lip, patted my shoulder, and walked out of the room.
I didn't move for a few minutes. I just thought about what Claire had said and realized how much of my life had been spent doing exactly what she had just told me.
Playing it safe.
Running when it got hard.
Not letting anyone take care of me because it was too risky.
Unable to reach out for help.
And it wasn't just with my security or love issues. Even my career was less than what it should be because I was too scared to admit to anyone that I needed help. I knew that something wasn't right with the label and my manager. I had for years. I knew deep down I was getting screwed on certain things. But I was too proud to admit to anyone that I needed help to get what I deserved.
After some time passed, I stood up and went out to the hall and grabbed my jacket. It was dark out. Larry was standing by the door and followed me out when I left.
Phil had left, but I needed to find him. I had no idea what I would say, but I knew I needed to try and make this right.
It was so dark out, and I could hardly see. I was going to go back to the house because it was so dark, but instead I went into the pub, thinking he might be there. Disappointment shot through me when I saw that he wasn't.
Two older women were drinking at the bar. The bartender was the only other person in the pub. I was about to leave when the guitar against the wall caught my eye. I decided I needed to sing. It was the way I always figured things out. It was the only way I had allowed myself to feel for so long.
Picking up the guitar, I grabbed the pick from the night before that was on the DJ table and went over to the microphone. There was a chair already set up, and I adjusted the microphone and turned it on.
I belted out one song after another in my broken, screwed-up world. I sang for hours in the dark bar, oblivious to how much time had passed or who was there. I sang through tears, pain, and fear.
Moving from one song to the next, I didn't even stop between songs; I just belted out verses and choruses as they came to my mind.
I sang other people's songs.
I sang my own songs.
I sang songs that were only partially written in my head.
A crowd of people had slowly formed. The bartender pulled over a stool and set a glass of water down for me. I nodded to her and took a big gulp while I continued to strum out the notes on the guitar and once again belt out any lyrics that popped into my mind.
Tom and Ethan had come in at some point. I didn't know how long they had been there, but they had half a pint in each of their hands and grabbed a table in front of me. I kept singing out the tunes.
Claire and Liv eventually showed up and sat down. They smiled at me.
I was mid-song when I saw Phil sitting in the back of the bar. I didn't know how long he had been sitting there. He caught my eye, and I stopped and switched songs, belting out lyrics to songs about love, forgiveness, hope, and fear.
His amber-and-rosewood smell and other random things that I loved about him flew into my mind. As I belted out note after note, he continued to stare at me. But I couldn't read his eyes because it was so dark and he was too far away.
He never moved an inch. Neither did I as I wailed out song after song.
I was a corny, sad sap, and I knew it. But singing was the only way I knew how to express to him how I felt about him, and with every ounce of emotion I had in me, I sang while staring at him.
When I got to the end of a song, I didn’t stop. I just rolled into the next.
Any song I could think of to show him what he meant to me, I sang.
To show him I knew I’d messed up.
To show him I was sorry, but didn't really know how to make it right.
To show him that I wanted him and needed him and was ready to be all in.
To show him I needed his forgiveness and love, and just him.
I sang for hours without putting the guitar down, and without stopping in between songs, while staring at him as he sat in the back of the bar.
When I couldn't sing anymore, I stopped. The pub erupted in a standing ovation, and Phil stood up. I watched him finally tear his eyes away from me and walk straight out of the pub.
My heart shattered. I quickly pulled the guitar off me and put it on the chair. The crowd was still on its feet, and I pushed my way through the pub. When I finally got to the door and into the dark, I could feel Larry following me.
"Phil," I called out, but he didn’t answer.
Faint track marks in the snow led to the house. His shoes were by the door. I removed mine and went up to our room.
The room was dark, only illuminated by the light of the full moon. Phil stood with his back to me, staring out the window.
I walked up to him and put my arms around his waist. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I keep screwing up."
He inhaled sharply and slowly let it out. His hands clenched in fists on both sides of his thighs.
I took my arms from around his waist and lifted his shirt so I could kiss his back. As my lips made my way across his naked back, he took another deep breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand unclench, then clench again. I took my hands and put them over his. "Please, forgive me. I know I don't deserve it."
He still said nothing, just continued to breathe deeply.
My hands were still over his, and I pushed them forward as I wrapped my arms around his waist again. I put my forehead against his back and could feel his shoulders tense up.
The scent of amber and rosewood wafted through me, and I closed my eyes against his back.
He finally spoke so quietly I hardly heard him. "You're wrecking me, Petal."
"I know. I'm so sorry." I uncurled his fingers and laced mine through his.
"I'm not going to stop," he murmured.
"Stop what?" I gently asked.
"Making sure you’re safe."
"I know."
"And loving you."
I squeezed him tighter. "Please don't."
"Stop pushing me away."
"Okay."
He turned, pulled my chin up, and angrily said, "I mean it. Stop pushing me away."
I put my hands on his face. "I know. I'm sorry. I will."
He just looked down at me with his face full of anger.
I pulled his face down and stepped on my tiptoes to kiss him, but my lips hit his, and he didn't kiss me back. He closed his eyes.
I went to kiss him again, but he turned his face. I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest.
He started to harden against my body. I went to kiss his mouth again, but he still wouldn't kiss me back.
I stopped kissing him. The damage had been done, and I had been the one to do it. I realized I couldn't just kiss away my mistakes, so I released him and stepped back. "I'm sorry. I'll give you some space."
I blinked back tears and turned to leave, but after I took my first step, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me back to him, and his lips were quickly on mine.
Between kisses, he mumbled, "I don't need space, Petal."
"No? What do you need?"
"You to understand."
"Understand what?"
"I want to take care of you." His lips rolled against mine in the heavenly way that only his lips could. "I need to take care of you...in all ways," he whispered.
I nodded as I kissed him.
"Promise me you'll let me take care of you," he murmured against my lips.
I darted my tongue against his. "I promise."
He pushed his forehead to mine and looked at me. "If you're scared, I need you to tell me and not push me away."
I bit my lip. I started to nod, but stopped. "I'm scared."
He nodded. "Of the threats."
"Yes. But mostly that I won't have enough love for you."
He scanned my eyes. "Because of him."
"Yes."
"I'm not him."
"I know. You're nothing like him... That scares me."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't know I could feel this much for someone," I whispered.
Finally, I had admitted out loud what had been crashing through my soul. The flood gate to honesty opened up, and there was no going back.
He grabbed my face and pushed his lips into mine again. Between kisses, he mumbled, "Why does that scare you, Petal?"
I pulled him into me more and rolled my tongue against his.
"Tell me, Petal. Help me understand."
"I don't want to hurt anymore," I told him through kisses. “I won’t survive losing you. I’m in too deep.”
"Then stop pushing me away."
"What if you get tired of me, and I'm not enough for you?"
"You're more than enough for me, Petal."
"How do you know that?"
"You have to trust me." He started to kiss my jawline.
"What if I'm too much stress for you?"
"Then I'll make you sing to me and give me more blow jobs."
I giggled.
He nibbled on my ear. His warm breath vibrated against me. "I crave you, Petal. That won't ever stop. Just believe in me."
"I do believe in you."
"Then believe in us." His mouth made its way down my neck.
"I want to."
"Don't want, just do." He unzipped the zipper on my dress and sucked on my collarbone.
I let out a little moan. "Like this…"
"What?" he whispered.
"How can you make me feel so good while talking to me?"
He softly laughed. He unclasped my bra, pushed it off me, and trailed his fingers around my nipple. "Let me make you feel really good."
I moaned.
He moved me backward till I was at the bed and knelt on the floor. His mouth fluttered across my breasts, then my stomach as my sex started to throb.
"No one has ever made me feel like you do," I mumbled as his fingers slid into me.
"No one has ever driven me as crazy as you do."
I grabbed his shoulders and steadied myself as he swiped his finger across my sweet spot. I gasped.
His mouth was on my mound, and he hummed against it, "No one tastes as delicious as you do." He pushed me down on the edge of the bed and threw my legs over his shoulders, kissing my inner thighs.
I whimpered against him.
"You were so beautiful and raw on stage tonight," he muttered near my womanhood.
"How much did you see?" I mumbled.
"Almost all of it. I saw you go in the pub." His mouth moved over the outside of my pussy while he pushed a second finger in me.
"Ahhhh…" I moaned with my shaky breath, and grabbed his hair.
His tongue started to swipe my clit, and I trembled beneath him. "Oh, you're perfection, Petal."
I closed my eyes as he played my body like a well-known song. "Phil?"
"Hmm?" his lips moaned against my body.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Shh. I know," he whispered, then took me into his lips.
I groaned from his touch.
He diligently devoured me with his warm lips, luscious tongue, and flexible fingers as my body melted from his every touch, every caress, every kiss.
"Oh God," I moaned, and pushed him into me harder and burst into a million different pieces as he drove me up higher.
When my legs stopped shaking, he released me from his shoulders and threw off his shirt and pants. He flipped me over on my knees and hands.
"I love your ass, Petal." His large hands caressed my cheeks.
"I love your hands on my ass."
"Yeah?" He bent down so his muscular torso was across my back. His lips frolicked all around me, and he swiped my wetness, then slowly inserted his finger in my ass an inch at a time.
I moaned.
"This okay, Petal?"
"Mm-hmm," I inhaled.
His tongue made sweeping motions on my spine, and his finger crept farther in me.
I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing.
His free hand rubbed my ass cheek.
I started to feel full, but not full enough. I wanted it, and I knew he did, too. I whispered, "Phil...put your dick in me."
"Here?" He twisted his finger in my ass.
"Yes," I moaned out.
“Hold on.” He went over to his bag and pulled out a tube of lube. After squirting some out, he murmured, “Just relax, Petal,” and began prepping, sliding his fingers on his right hand slowly in me, then adding more as time went on.
I breathed through it all and closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel his hands on and in my body.
"That's a good girl," he praised me in a low, gravelly voice. “I think you’re ready.” He pulled his fingers out, then slowly started to slide into my hole while still his left hand circled my clit.
"Holy shit," I breathed.
Full. I was totally full, and he wasn't even all the way in me yet.
"You okay, Petal?" He rubbed his hands against my ass cheeks.
"Yeah. You feel good," I whispered.
He started to slide back out, then slid another inch in, then back again, slowly allowing me to take him completely in.
"Oh..." My breath was shaky.
When I could feel his pelvis against my cheeks, he slowly started to rock against me.
"You feel amazing, Petal," he groaned.
My throat vibrated with sounds I hadn't heard before. He was so large, and his fingers reached around me and entered me once more.
I was stuffed everywhere with him, and my body was a blazing inferno against his. Tiny drops of sweat rolled down my skin, and my blue hair was a messy sea in front of me.
He bent over me, his torso muscles contracting with his breath and grazing against the nerves in my spine.
I started to circle my ass against him slowly.
"Shit, Petal," he moaned.
"You like it?"
"God, yeah... Oh...fuck...keep doing that," he instructed.
Rolling currents of humming voltage coursed through my body as he continued to thrust against my circling motion.
"Oh...I've dreamed of your ass, Petal," he breathed out, and started to thrust faster.
"Did it feel like this?"
"No, this feels way better, Petal."
"I'm so full," I said with a shaky breath as the currents began to morph into waves.
He started swiping his finger inside me.
"So good, Phil," I cried out as the waves turned into a tsunami. I was so full I couldn't tell which was gripping harder—my vagina around his fingers, or my ass around his cock.
Phil groaned; his deep, throaty groan that was music to my ears.
"Oh, I'm going to cum again," I whimpered.
"Just let yourself go, Petal," he cooed to me like he always did.
And I did. I exploded on him and cried out his name as my body ruptured against his cock that pumped hard into my ass.
Flying. I was flying as every part of my body started to spasm and grip onto him.
He collapsed against my back and his warm breath pushed against me, coming out in shallow, quick bursts. He slowly pulled out of me and kissed my neck before rolling onto his back and pulling me over with him.
Turning his head, he kissed me. "That was incredible," he murmured.
I smiled at him and ran my hand through his hair. "I love you," I blurted out.
He stared at me and smiled. "That's good, Petal. But just so you know, I loved you first."