"I deserved it, how about your eyes that I penetrate him like blades," he says, in a low, husky voice that crosses my cospargendomi of creeps.
I pulled back a lock of hair, drooping eyes. "Do not, do not avoid looking at me, I know I was an asshole, but I just wanted you to know that nothing happened."
I'm missing a bitter laugh, like the bitter taste of tears trying to plow through my face.
"I know you do not want to believe me, but it did not happen than you think."
I stare at him defiantly and without filters utter: "So did you get fucked, but you gave her an orgasm the same? What was a content themselves, just to make her happy? "
Taking up without realizing it and put it back around in your bag. They do not change anything apology, nothing, I would scream, but I can not, I'm already losing control. I feel betrayed, without the right.
His hand closes around my wrist, grabbed the last notebook.
"I could not fuck her, because she was not the one I wanted, and never will be. Because the only person I want me going to turn my back again, and Carrie's you, only you. "
It leaves me, my arm falls helplessly along the body, I hear the squeak of the chair on the floor, his feet moving, and I wake up from the trance state in which I fell for a second. This time I have to grab him by the wrist. This time, almost confused.
"You're a Jhonson asshole." The breath becomes short, her eyes narrow on me, his brow is furrowed, and before he can say: I know. My lips are on her, in one place where they wish to be. His arms attracts me to him, with a mixture of despair, anger and urgency that blend together. Just as our tastes that run not having enough. Free, is what runs through my body right now, and he made me feel so, as his hand tilted my head to make me feel and give me all of himself, in a kiss that tears me
from my nightmares, and gives me a hope in which we believe. I need him, that's why I can not tear myself away, and my hands cling to her, swallow her moans that I run in, which seize little by little me, knowing that I am about to embark on an unknown journey .
I do not know if I can do this without getting lost in my past, I do not know if everything will shatter, or if you will touch a fund from which there will be no return. I just know that I want his body against mine, his mouth on me, and her taste that covers me like a promise, like the only thing I can believe, to which I can cling to.
We detach breathless, his forehead pressed against mine.
"Tell me what it was, please," supplication, his breathing labored lash my face, and I feel the smell of us who did not know until now.
"A kiss Logan." His grip increases on my back, crushing me against his chest.
"I know it too, but why? Why did you kiss me? Carrie '
I immerse my gaze in his, the one in whom I would not drown.
"Because I want you, Logan." I can not escape to the heart that crashed against the rib cage, the feeling of desire as I never wanted anyone, I can not fight against myself. Not anymore, since he has opened the door without permission of my life and we came inside.
"Say it again." His hands wrap around the face. "I want you, Logan."
He smiles, and a trail of kisses covers me, stops, his eyes on mine, as if trying to figure out if this is real. It's the same thing that I do, I can look at it without raising barriers that separate us.
"So ..." mumbles, and I smiled at her awkwardly.
"So?" Press him to provoke him.
"So if I were to do so in public ..." her tongue slides down with ease throat and I'm gonna the way it moves in my mouth, by the power that is able to have on my body, squirming, and melts at his touch, "so what?" she hisses on my swollen lips.
I in turn causes, I feel anesthetized by its taste, and not feel anything but him, only Logan, pounding in my chest, throbbing in my temples.
"I think you can do."
He caresses his cheek, his thumb brushes my skin, and her eyes are glued to those gestures, which seem to want to mold me.
"Do not you will regret." I know that me is promising, I reply no, and I sink into his chest that greets me making me feel where I want to be, but where I need to be ... with him.
We spend the rest of the morning closed in our bubble, hidden from the books that separate us from the rest of the universe. I glance at the clock.
"Shit, it is very late!" I stand up.
"You have to go to work? I'll walk, "he says now. I am going to put the bag on his shoulder.
"No, I still go to the Hill, I can ..." I bite the inside of my cheek, I do not know how to move, what to say.
The only memory of my last report is a reflection of the pain that I read every morning in my eyes.
"I'll pick you up at the end of turn." I smile, nodding and before it can go away, pulling me with braided hand in his.
"Where do you get away. Leave me something to think about for the rest of the day, "he says hoarsely, his eyes fluctuates from my eyes to my mouth.
"What would you think?" I whisper, blowing against his lips that rest on mine.
"At this, to your taste, to you, only to you Carrie."
I hereby release my hand from her and run away leaving his gaze to accompany me through the door. The feet pounding the ground with force, it is as if you let me back everything that tries to take me down, he Tia reason, I have to move on.
I can not turn a blind world, which continues to flow even without me. Although the burden of my secret accompanies my thoughts, I do not think we can now,
I want to believe that he would understand, I do not judge, for a single fucking time, I want to believe in the good.
"Give little attention!"
But perhaps the good does not exist, right now as I turn almost in slow motion toward the voice. My eyes drift from the gray of the sidewalk and run through his body up to his face, where my nightmare lashes out violently against me. I cover her mouth with his hand to hold the terror that touches the lips almost cutting them.
It can not be here, it can not be him, can not be true. "See you doll. Small world, is not it? "
But it is, as his hand trying to touch my face, and bile jumps in my throat, for everything in those months he managed to destroy my life.
18
WAKE nightmare
Carrie
They are paralyzed, he is here, in front of my eyes in disbelief, watching him, like last time, when his smirk he turned away revealing the devious person he was, whom he had just made fun of myself. He came into my head silently, I had allowed myself to be guided by his attentions, that made me fall without my realizing the time:
"We need to talk". He put his stuff in the travel bag. "We have nothing to say, I have never existed, like you're not for me. Carrie Simple, is not it? ". He smiled, and with total indifference, as if it was no longer the person I had known, was preparing to go away from my life. "I can not do it". I admitted to hold back her tears. He sprang towards me, the steps moved yourself up to see me crushed by the weight of his body against mine.
The breath got stuck in his chest, and fear began to flow in the veins, throbbing, his heart was hardly able to support those incessant beats. "I said I will do exactly as I want, it's our little secret. You do not want to ruin your family, right? "I swallowed hard, his hand touched my cheek and squeezed his eyes as his touch intensified on his face, his grip became so close that I felt his cheeks blush with grief, the same as the parts of my body bore signs. "Why can not ..." I tried to say, the strong pounded his fist against the wall, making me jump. "I told you so!" He screamed so loud in my ears crept annoying whistling. I shrugged, alone, destroyed, and with the knowledge that they have no choice, no hope.
"You're looking good." I give a start by thoughts such as flash blind the mind confused.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, cold, as if it did not represent my downfall, nailing my gaze in his. Once I was lost in his eyes, not knowing what to hide themselves, not understanding that he would be my bad, my downfall.
"I dress baby, rather what yo
u doing here?" His answer falls on me violently, tremble, serro hands into fists, holding onto every single emotion like a fucking hurricane, you are throwing in my head.
"Studio" I say with difficulty. He sketches his smile usually shifts his weight from foot to foot, his eyes running over me.
"Interesting, I thought you would stay in your ditch to Stanley."
I would yell at him why he did it, because it has forced me, because I, but I do not because I know you would not get any answer. The fault is mine, I came across the wrong man, I believed everything that came out from his lips, I let myself be fooled so much to allow him to give his anger on my body, but I did not let me only that with which drown every day.
"Now I have to go." His hand closed into a fist on the wrist, his fingertips pressed into a trap all too familiar, are the dark days that his feet have trampled uncontrollably, without me I had the courage to to do it. Too small, perhaps just to scream, too confused to distinguish good from evil. When his head rested on my lap begging apology, promises that lasted only until the next time, in which I would have still clashed once again against that part of him so vulnerable, crazy, dark.
"Not so fast." I turn into a jerk, yanking his grip, I'm not that girl, he could lock up in the walls of her apartment and beat up because they lost control of himself. I am no longer his girlfriend, who was trying to find excuses to his violence, when the next day seemed to have changed in the person of whom I thought I was in love.
So, the point a finger, but my whole body vibrates with fear that the nightmare will recur, as happens almost every night, but when I wake up, he's no longer with me,
but now, although strong strike my eyelids, his figure towering safe in front of my eyes.
"You have no power, no more. Take care away or I'll ruin you! "We both know why I never did, I'm not the only person I have to protect him, but I will not let him see my weaknesses, my fears, I want to show him my rage, the person I am today and who trample restoring the same wounds that still burn the same way about my skin.
"We feel, and how you plan to do Carrie? No one would believe you, not after what you told Stanley, not after what I was well-liked in this city. "
I hold my breath, narrowing his eyes to hers.
"I've got our photos, it seems anyone knew us."
I torn, it is true, but who am sent them wanted me to know that mine is no longer a secret. He shakes his head with a malicious grin.
"Son of a bitch!" He grinds his teeth, taking a step back.
"I should imagine that you were there behind." Confused wrinkled his forehead. "Of ... What are you talking about?"
He rides softly, in a low, hoarse voice that penetrates me to the bone making me shiver.
"I really do believe that stupid?" Almost yells, running his hands over her face, so frustrated, as he did every time the reason abandoned his mind to be replaced by blind rage that assailed him.
I still do not understand, he keeps telling me the pictures, and those who had blackmailed him for the same, I feel something shattering, the sound of pieces of me crashing to the ground, and I can almost hear the sound echoing in the ears, stordendomi.
"Not true!" Scream, and without realizing it, my face covered with tears, that line, cut and engrave his words on my flesh.
"I do not believe you, you're lying!" I add, fumbling in my own breath.
I stumble on my feet, staggering backward, as if that might not be the truth, had overwhelmed me, invested with no mercy.
"Believe it, the world apparently is shit. We will meet again, we have not finished, I even think that this can be a new beginning. You owe me a lot of money. "
No, I will relive everything from scratch, will not allow him another time. Without hesitation I threw at him, hitting him right in the groin. His body leans forward, his hands clasped on the crotch of his jeans.
"Find me to take motherfucker. You do not touch me again! "
I promise for the first time myself. The turn my back with the fear that his hands can reach me but he does not. I can get to the Hill with the heart that never ceases to make its run. When I close the door behind him, one hand on his chest, I try to regulate your breath and press my back against the cold wall, as cold as the days that followed after his departure.
I had to feel free, but I could not be, not after his latest threats. His words bounce in the head: money, pictures, blackmail. I too, I would pull lunge, support me against the wall because the legs are soft, and I could give way at any moment.
I pull the phone out of the bag, and my name is Danny, the owner of the diner where I work, I do not know if I will lose the place, but I can not go to work in these conditions. Mercedes answers, I had not made time account, a round started long ago.
"Carrie, have you been?" Sorry to leave it in the shit, I know how it is full of people from the local when classes resumed in full swing at UCLA.
"I can not come, I'm sorry, I have to ... I have to answer a question."
Do not give her time to wonder what it is, hang-up with the only knowledge that I have to go scontrarmi with the truth.
I head to my Pick Up battered, I send a message to Tia, telling her that I will spend the afternoon from Logan and also send a message to him, telling him that I have to help Scottie to his apartment, and I'll see you right in your home. Lies, almost programmed in my mind, go out automatically from my mouth. I put in the car, and I call my mother, now more than ever I need to hear her voice, I need to know that there is, that although it is not here beside me, to hold me in his arms as he always done.
I can still hear her breathing, and pretend for a moment to be with her.
"Treasure? All right, should not you be at work? "
I bite my lower lip, and I enter me on the coast.
"I have the day off, how are you? How are things there? "I know you lie to me, telling me that all is well, and that's what he says little later, with his total calm. I think I inherited from her, hiding behind a mask with a fake smile stuck in the face.
"You, how are you instead? I thought you were coming with Scottie, last weekend. "
I hold the questions for me, those for which, my brother told me to be back home.
"I had to study," I will only say, without leaking the anxiety that grows with each mile that brings me more and more to your destination.
"You know, my dear. I'm proud of you, the woman you are becoming, and how rimetterai an agenda in your life. "I smile, even if you can not see me, the warm California sun collides with my face, which is buffeted by the breeze of Pacific, which filters through the window down.
"Thanks, Mom." Maybe I did not tell I never said enough, or maybe I said, giving everything for granted, but she also happens to me if I kept to myself my secrets, she heard only what I was ready and willing to share, without claiming to know well. But it is my mother, and I think that ultimately knows more than I think, therefore I do
around the neighborhood looking for his car, the promising greeting as soon as possible I will book a plane ticket for her to visit the city where I am. He jokes, saying that then begin to book online a bikini to show off the bay, and we salute you as well, although I do not know if after what I will do, never take that flight.
Fixed the black car, which sparkles in the sun's rays that flow to the body, showing every curve. From under the seat extension my baseball bat, a gift that I face Scottie. Off the car slamming the door behind him, and without thinking I hear the thud of wood crashing on the metal, a noise that I runs on him, making me fall into a trance, which is followed by another and yet another, that affects the window of the driver's side.
I look at the glass fragments that are sprinkled on the fine leather seat. "What the fuck Carrie?" I turn to my brother.
"I've always known," the point the bat against, "what gave you? How much did you pay? "I scream, I hit again his car.
He runs his hands through his hair, my trembling, trying to hold onto the handle of the bat.
"My past lo
usy, you paid for this car, right?"
I can not believe my brother, Scottie, knew everything about me and him, has charged him be quiet as I had to do it myself, because no one knew who had reduced me to this state.
"He had to pay, I ..." tries to say, I release him look grim, he throws him all the pain I have experienced, which has haunted me every day when I tried to go on without being able to forget and avoid stray into myself.
"You just took advantage of the situation. What kind of person are you? "
I do not breath in my throat, I try to look into his eyes, to see the reflection of the family that I thought I had.
"Why?" Pesta fist on the hood of his car, throw the bat to the ground, a few centimeters from his feet.
"I ... I do not know why I did it. I saw you together, and ... and I just wanted to teach him a lesson, but I did get carried away. I knew what was likely if you would have known. You were underage fuck! "His voice tries to drown my, now broken, that is no longer able to make his way in the middle of the crap that is projected in front of me.
I turn around, tired, exhausted and I head to my car.
"Wait up! Please. "I stop in my tracks, turning over his shoulder one last time to meet his face, yes, I will no longer see his eyes that betrayed me, who played against my pain, just to afford a fucking life wealthy at the expense I faced.
"You know, Scottie, it's not me you have to pray, but a God who can forgive you, because I certainly will not do it!"
Only the noise of the wound that tears in my chest is what I can hear as I walk away from him. I climb into the car,
I look sideways at her helpless figure, but I'm being blocked, nailed to a reality that I would never remotely imagined. Sold by my own blood. That's what he did, that's why when away at full speed I would sketch the road was endless and take me away from the world.
Logan
We train like every day, but today is different. I still have the taste engraved on the lips and I can not get out of my mind her eyes, which for the first time I was allowed to enter his barrier, which frapponessero. I climb for the tenth time the steps of the stands, muscles burn, pull, and you tend to every movement. I feel as light as they have ever been, for once, it seems that everything has taken the right way: my father, Carrie, even the death of my mother pressed against his chest quieter.
My Bet Is You Page 21
