I take her fingers and place them in my mouth, sucking greedily at the taste of her. Intoxicated. Her eyes are the darkest intense blue I’ve ever seen them. She’s watching me suck on her fingers, and guiding me inside her with the other hand. Demanding more from me. I give it to her. I give her all of it, but her bed makes a noise and we realize we’ll get caught.
She slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle as I pull out and look around her room for a solution. We’re too turned on to stop now. She reaches for her pillows and lowers herself to the floor. She’s on her hands and knees laying them out and I take a chance. We haven’t tried this position and she might freak out, or she might be just turned on enough to want it, and let me. She lifts up on her knees as I lower to mine behind her. I wrap my hand around her stomach to keep her from moving. “Josh?” she asks.
I lean around her to kiss her lips and glide my hand between her legs. She’s still so ready. She begins to moan into my mouth and rolling into my hand. “I want to try something,” I say against her lips. “Do you trust me?” I whisper into her ear. She nods. So I guide her body down onto her hands and knees on the pillows beneath her. She doesn’t resist. If anything she’s inviting. I’m massaging up and down her back, tugging gently at her hair, causing her to arch like a feline. It’s sexy as hell. I knead the flesh of her ass until she’s pushing against me, begging me to enter. I give in. I can’t take any more. I push inside her and she grinds against me. I almost come instantly from the difference in our position and the way she looks so ridiculously sexy. I thrust hard and fast. We lose ourselves to a beautiful oblivion when I reach around between her legs to rub her clit. Experimenting with her is one of my new favorite hobbies. I want to see her face when we come, though, and so I flip her to her back with one leg over my shoulder. Still so deep. She’s pulling me in for a kiss so intense, devouring me. I love the sounds she makes when she’s trying not to make any sounds. The way she breathes into my ear, how she bites into my shoulder to prevent from crying out. Everything we do together is mind blowing. Her breaths come in quick pants and I know she’s there, so I don’t hold back any longer. We’re being quiet in fear of being heard and something about it is so arousing. Her nails dig into my ass cheeks and we fall together off the edge, collapsing onto the pillows completely spent. I kiss her and she wraps herself around me. “That was fun,” I tell her.
She swats at my chest. “You’re so bad,” she says kissing my lips.
I pinch her side and make her giggle. “You love it when I’m bad,” I say.
She agrees. We must have dozed off because I awaken later in the night to her shivering. I lift her up into my arms and lower her onto the bed where I cover her body with the sheet and blanket. I get dressed in my clothes and contemplate climbing out of her window when the journal next to her bed catches my eye.
I know I shouldn’t read it, but the first line has my heart free falling in my chest and I can’t stop myself.
I JUST WANT TO FORGET
THE HANDS THAT HELD ME DOWN
LOOSEN THIS TORNIQUET
RELEASE THE WRISTS YOU HAVE BOUND
I NEED TO BREATHE, TO BELIEVE
THAT YOU NO LONGER EXIST
NO LONGER THINK OF ME
IT SATISFIES YOU WHEN I RESIST
PRETTY, PLEASE
I’M RAISING MY WHITE FLAG
SET ME FREE
THIS TIME I DON’T WANT TO COLLAPSE
I WANT TO FIGHT LIKE HELL
KILL YOUR MEMORY
BUT THIS IS REAL
I’M LOST IN THIS REVERIE
OH, PLEASE
JUST LET ME FORGET
I CAN’T BREATHE
SMOTHERED IN MY OWN HEAD
HUNTED, NOW HAUNTED
TAINTED SKIN BENEATH YOUR BODY
TAKING WHAT YOU WANTED
WATCHING IS YOUR HOBBY
NO MORE, NOT THIS TIME
I WILL EVENTUALLY NOT REMEMBER
I WILL FIND A WAY TO BE FINE
BREAK FREE FROM MY TORMENTOR
“Oh, my God!” I cover my mouth with my hand and look over to her sleeping so peacefully. She looks tranquil, but is she? Is she dreaming of that night when she sleeps? Now…every night? My insides begin to boil, the salty taste of my adrenaline evident in my mouth. I want to wake her and demand her to explain this to me, but we’ve already faced this conversation and I know she doesn’t want to talk anymore.
Nothing needs to be explained. She claims it isn’t real, but it is. It’s raw—written right here in her handwriting for me to plainly understand her pain. He bound her with his hands, he restrained her from moving and he ignored her cries to stop. He touched her without permission. He almost raped her. That was just that night. Before, he was following her, stalking her and I never once knew it. She did, though. She feared him. She saw his cracks for what they were. She saw the change in him and hid it from me. I set the journal down and watch her sleep until I can’t stand the beating in my chest any longer. I need to do something.
I quietly exit her room the way I came, climbing into mine only for my shoes. I take off jogging into the night. Pounding the pavement with force until I can’t breathe any longer.
CHAPTER 27
Madness is the only way I can describe our love.
I wake up cold and bereft. Looking around my room, I realize why. Josh left and I’m alone naked in my bed. A wave of unease washes over me and I don’t know why. I look over to my nightstand and realize it’s only 6:30 a.m. and I shouldn’t be up this early. Habits from school, I guess. My own internal alarm clock is set.
Then I see it.
My journal where I sat down last night and wrote the darkest poem I’ve ever written. Wide open for all to read. For Josh to read. Oh, God.
I scramble out of my bed, rummage through my stuff for some clothes to wear. I tiptoe out of my room and to the bathroom where I quickly and quietly shower away last nights remains of our lovemaking. Although, I don’t believe we can call what we did making love. I brush my teeth, dress and make sense of my hair with great haste.
I walk back into my room in search of my phone. No texts or calls, but something feels off. I look out my window and see his room still dark. I need to know if he’s okay, and so I push open my window and climb out. Walking the spitting distance to his window, sliding it up and climbing inside. I knew in the pit of my stomach, he wouldn’t be there and he wasn’t. Where is he? Shit!
I pace once I’m back in my room. His truck is in the driveway so he couldn’t have gone too far. Our spot, I think, and hurriedly put on my converses and grab my keys. I drive to our spot because it’s quicker. He’s not there. I send him a text.
Riley: WHERE RU?
He doesn’t reply. I can’t shake it, this feeling of dread. I drive to the cemetery, to the playground, anywhere and everywhere that matters to us and find him nowhere to be found. He still doesn’t text. I call and he doesn’t answer. The pit in my stomach begins to swallow me up. If he read my poem, then he’s angry. Angry with Dean whom we both know is now back in town. I contemplate heading to the apartments, afraid that he went to confront him when my phone pings.
Josh: AT YOUR HOUSE
I think I must be going crazy because he wasn’t there before and now he is, and why didn’t he answer when I had just called him. I fly out of my car and make my way to the front door, walking inside to silence. Thinking everyone is sleeping, I move quietly down the hall toward my bedroom. My mom startles me when I see her standing in the doorway of her bedroom listening to the baby monitor.
“Mom?”
“Shhh…just listen,” she says putting the monitor between us.
Josh’s soothing voice is heard through the speaker as he sings a lullaby to Jocelyn.
“Where’d you go?” Mom asks me noticing the car keys dangling in my hand.
I step into her bedroom and frown. “I was worried about Josh. He, uh, he was upset last night and he wasn’t at home and it made me nervous,” I explain
with the shortened version.
She gives me a perplexed look. “That’s strange because I found him on the couch this morning when I went to warm Jocelyn her bottle. He woke up and offered to feed her for me.”
The couch? I guess I would have seen him there had I went out the front door and not my bedroom window.
Josh starts talking to Jocelyn and we both freeze to eavesdrop.
“Little one, I hope you stay small and innocent forever. Never fall in love. It hurts like hell, and never say hell…that’s a bad word.” He laughs, but I can tell his laugh is different. It’s serious, nervous, bitter even. “Love makes you feel crazy sometimes, Jellybean. Like straight jacket kind of crazy,” he says to her.
I feel my mom’s eyes on me, but I can’t meet them. Why is he saying this?
“It’s like you become someone else. Your thoughts are all wrapped up on that person that you no longer have thoughts of your own. Their emotions become your emotions. You can’t stop it, either. It’s like a freight train speeding down the tracks on a collision course with another train. They crash, slipping off the tracks becoming mangled messes of metal and shattered glass. Cleaning up a broken heart and shattered memories is hard work. Did you know that?”
“What is he talking about?” my mom asks. I shush her.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it were just the two hearts in question. I mean…we could figure that out because two halves make a whole, right? But when there are three hearts tangled up, pieces scattered among the wreckage…it’s hard to figure out which pieces fit where, and how not to accidentally mesh the faulty pieces to the wrong heart, causing the whole shebang to short circuit.”
“What?” I say out loud but to myself.
“I’m gonna tell you a little bedtime story even though it’s not bedtime. K, Jellybean. Once upon a time there was a girl. Not just any girl, though. The girl. A special girl. See…she was a beautiful fairy with lovely wings, though one was broken and she couldn’t fly. She lived in a land of make believe where there was no sunlight, only stars shining in the night. It was night in her world all of the time because of a curse she couldn’t break. She was the wounded fairy. Only true love would give her daylight. True loves kiss would fix her wing and help her fly. She knew her true love better than anyone. The musical fairy was the wounded fairies best friend. He was a lot like her, though not afraid of the dark, but not a fan of it, either. They were the favorite fairy couple because they made beautiful music, entertaining the others in the kingdom. The wounded fairy found harmony in writing poetry and seeing her words careen up into the sky with wonder. Even the stars danced with glee when she sang them and he strummed the guitar strings. But there was one. There is always one who isn’t pleased, who wants to keep her wounded. One dark fairy that didn’t want to see her fix her wing, didn’t want her to fly, or find love. He wanted the curse to remain and to hurt her. The musical fairy knew it was his job to protect the wounded fairy from the dark one. He screwed up and made a bad decision, though. He went in search of sunlight, the darkness wearing him down. He left the wounded fairy in her kingdom vulnerable and without music for too long. She grew weak and fragile. The dark fairy saw her weakness and rejoiced. He found her sleeping where she should have been peaceful and he removed her wing completely. Leaving her just a half and completely off balance. She cried and she felt lost. She missed her other wing, she missed the musical fairy and he missed her. The dark fairy laughed at her struggle, but then he left her alone. The damage was done. The broken wing was flying in the wind, separated from the other. It was the musical fairies destiny to save the wounded fairy so that she could break the curse. He found the broken wing, buried underneath tears and pieces of her remaining heart that no longer resided in her chest. His name was written all over it and he knew she had given it to him to keep and cherish forever. So he dusted it off and he performed magic to heal its pieces. Arriving just in time, he secured the broken wing to her back, though still clipped from sorrow. He removed his heart from his chest writing her name all over it in permanent ink. He took them both in his hands performing a beautiful spell of entwining them forever. Her heart into his chest, his heart into hers—they were one now, beating together and for the other. Finding beauty in the ugliness and light in the darkness. He kissed the wounded fairy—true loves kiss—swirling, beautiful colors around them both. Soaring into the sky, hand in hand where the stars sang and the sunlight finally made an appearance. It wasn’t over, though. The musical fairy found the wounded fairy’s poetry disturbing. Love told him it was his job to seek revenge and revenge was ever so sweet when he sought it. Love made the fairies wild and reckless. Tangled webs of secrets, lies and grief consumed them. But revenge! That was the thing that would set them free because the dark fairy would no longer exist as a threat. The musical fairy and the no longer wounded fairy could live happily ever after. The End.”
Tears are streaming down my cheeks and when I look up into my mother’s eyes, I know she can piece together some of his fantasy tale of true love and cursed hearts.
“Riley?”
“Dean hurt me. It happened when Josh and I were broken up. I’ve been struggling with it ever since. I have these nightmares and I just can’t stop them.” I explain to her.
“Hurt you how?” she asks in the motherly voice that hopes I just mean emotional not physical. He hurt me both.
“It’s really nothing and honestly I’m over it, but I wrote a poem. Something about Dean and Josh read it last night.”
“So he wants revenge? Riley, nothing good can come from that. I should know.”
“From that story he just said, it sounds like he sought revenge already. I just don’t know how, if he was here and Dean is…I don’t know where Dean is. He’s been gone, though he’s back now, but he was moving somewhere and I don’t know where.”
“Gone? Well, I can tell you where he moved. He’s across the street at his dads,” she says.
I stumble out of her room and to my own, falling onto my bed with my mom following behind me.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I shake my head. I’m not. I’m dizzy. I’m nauseous. “At his Dad’s. I don’t understand. Why would he move back there? That’s crazy.”
“What’s crazy?” Josh’s voice is heard from the doorway and I flinch.
I look up and pretend that I don’t notice his gaze drift to my notebook, or the hardness blaze momentarily in his eyes. He composes himself. Pushing it to the back so quickly if I hadn’t been paying attention I would have missed it.
My mom stands, reaching to take Jocelyn from Josh’s hands. “She smells and not in the jellybean way that I love,” he jokes. His nose is squinted so cutely that I laugh, though it fizzles pretty quickly when I watch his mouth and imagine that fairy tale leaving his lips and hoping it’s not true.
“You couldn’t change her diaper, Josh?” I ask, distracting my own wayward thoughts with banter.
His eyes warm and I can’t help but stare at him.
“Um…I guess I could have. I can, uh, I can try maybe.” He rambles looking at my mom apologetically.
She pats his shoulder and giggles. “I’ve got it. You two need to talk.” She states with a wink before leaving my room.
Blue eyes lock with hazel eyes in a war of secret emotions. The second my mom leaves the room his entire demeanor changes. He’s leaning against my dresser, ankles crossed and his hands are rubbing behind his neck. Tension replaces the playfulness of before.
“Hey,” he says, looking at me with a blank stare.
“Hey.” My reply is nothing more than a whisper.
I struggle to breathe when he begins furiously running his hands into his hair before placing them onto the dresser and pushing off to step forward. “So what’s crazy?” he asks.
Ugh. That bedtime story, I think. Sighing, I answer him, “Dean apparently moved back into his dad’s house. My mom saw him. I don’t know if that’s where he’s been, but she says he’s there.”
I notice Josh doesn’t react. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. It’s almost as if he already knew this. He just stares at me, giving away nothing.
I tilt my head to the side and study his face as he turns away and begins walking around my room like a zombie. What is with him? “Josh?”
“Mmm?” He turns to move forward but still feels so far away.
“Did you hear me?”
He nods and sits down on my bed, stares deeply into my eyes and just for a moment the winter in his eyes becomes summer—warm, bright and full of wonder. Then he looks to my nightstand where my journal sat open and what I see in his gaze is nothing like summer at all. It’s not even winter. It’s cold and bitter all right, but it’s so much more. I want to take the notebook and burn the poem. I curse myself for even writing it in the first place. I don’t move. I barely blink. Barely breathe.
His eyes shut and his hand lifts to press his fingers against his eyes.
“Josh?” His name is a breath of air out of my lips.
He just reaches for me and pulls me to him. He needs this and so I let him. Wrapping myself around him, blanketing him in my love because I’m living in the summer now. I don’t want to be held down in the winter cold and barren. I need him to be there with me. My sunshine.
I grab his cheeks and make him look at me. “I love you with every breath I take. More and more and more. Those were just words that I needed to get out of me, that’s all. It’s not what lives inside of my heart because that space is all yours, Josh. Don’t give it power to make you doubt things. Please,” I say kissing each of his eyes.
“I went to see him,” he says suddenly.
“What?” Ice fills my veins with wariness.
“I read those words. Raw. That’s what I felt. Like we were both completely raw and splintered. I went running, just needing some air and some way to blow off the steam I felt boiling up inside of me. I didn’t expect to run by his dad’s house and see his bike there, yet there it was like a beacon guiding me to the driveway. I don’t even remember my feet moving up the street, ringing the doorbell, or him answering. It just happened. All I could think about was you and how he hurt you, and how I never want him to hurt you again. He knows you dream of him. He told me so and it made me so angry, Riley.”
Emerge into Forever Page 32
