by Ford, Brynn
I could almost feel the way she tried to control it, as if she didn't want to let that suffering take hold of her. The memory of what she lost, what she should have today, gripped her so desperately that she struggled to catch her breath. I went after her, slowly pushing open the bathroom door. I reached out for her, tried to love her through it, but she pushed me away.
I couldn’t handle the way she looked at me. I knew she was upset with me for forgetting Lucy’s could-have-been birthday. That look in her eyes, though, nearly killed me. She wasn’t just angry. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten to bring home flowers on our anniversary. I’d forgotten a date more important and meaningful than almost any other.
I groveled and apologized profusely, but she wasn’t having it. She was pissed off.
She should be pissed off.
I tried so many times to hold her, hug her, tell her how much I love her, how much I love Lucy. A couple of times she let me, but it was tense, uncomfortable, awkward. The more I tried and the more she pushed me away, the more my defenses broke down. Overwhelming hurt and dark blue sadness crept its way past the crumbling wall until I broke down in sobs of my own on Sunday night.
Everything inside me hurt. Everything I was, everything I had, it was all falling to pieces. It hurt to see how lost Desi had become, but fuck, I could feel my grip on her loosening. My resolve to win, to prove she belonged to me was fading as hours passed and distance grew between us. I thought she’d been slowly coming back to me, but now it felt as if she were being carried away by a masked intruder.
Sunday faded into Monday and it was back to work for both of us. We passed each other quietly, getting ready to leave the apartment, and went through the motions with a pathetically mumbled, “Love you,” and, “Love you, too.”
Days went by like this.
We didn’t talk.
We didn’t touch.
We just existed miserably in the same small space. We'd both fallen into a habit of aversion. We were both avoiding each other. We were both dodging important conversations. It was terrifying to think that we may have come to that place where we'd bent just a little too far, ready to snap, broken forever.
I’d been going to bed later and later, sneaking Desi's phone away to check for new messages. There was nothing at first. That initially made me hopeful, thinking that she had ended whatever was going on with this Law person. But then I realized how unnerving the sudden radio silence on her phone really was. She wasn't talking to me, but she also wasn't talking to anyone else. She'd completely cut herself off and that almost scared me more than her communicating with the guy she was cheating on me with.
It was Thursday before she texted again.
DESI: Do you know if Law will be at Black Ties tomorrow night?
RIS: He’s always there on Friday night. Desi, he’s been worried sick about you. We both have.
DESI: I know. I just need to talk to him.
RIS: Will I see you there tomorrow?
DESI: I don’t know.
That was it. She never got another text from Ris and she never confirmed a plan. There was a new text from Law that went unanswered the same day.
LAW: I miss you, Desi. I just want you to be happy. Please just let me know you're okay.
When she walked out of the bedroom on Friday night and told me she was going out, I knew. I knew she was going to Black Ties. I knew she was going to meet Law. She couldn't even look me in the eye when she told me she was going.
It was no matter. She left and my resolve unexpectedly came roaring back to life at full force. I was done with this bullshit the moment I realized that she was willing to go see him after the shit week we'd had instead of talking to me. It was time to put an end to it. I needed to see this motherfucker for myself and look him in the eye before making it clear that he couldn’t have my girl.
She was my girl.
I changed into jeans and put on a black t-shirt and hoodie before heading out after her. Like a fucking creeper, I followed her, staying about a block behind her all the way. The walk was about twenty minutes. I hung back when we came upon the entrance and I remained across the street from where she stood.
She stopped in front of the door and looked conflicted. She stepped forward, then back. She pulled out her phone and looked down at it. She chewed on the side of her thumb like she always did when she was nervous.
My gut churned. I could feel her pain suddenly sweep over her as if it were a part of me, too. I was drawn to move closer to her, like a magnet. Even now, in the thick of all this shit, my soul was called to be near her soul when she was in distress.
I froze as she turned away from the door to Black Ties, facing out toward the street. I recognized the slow rise and fall of her chest, the deep breath she took before tears came. It was tragic how aware I was of what she looked like when she cried.
Her hands came up to cover her face and suddenly my feet were moving beneath me, carrying me toward her. I stepped out into the street, jaywalking across just after a single car passed me on the one way road. She wouldn’t be able to see me where I stepped onto the sidewalk, into the shadows between two street lights.
Watching her standing there alone, cold, and crying, it softened me. It started to chip away at the fear and anger I had about her secrets. It was a natural impulse in the way I just wanted to get to her, needed to get to her and take away the pain she was feeling. Even knowing she wouldn’t let me, given her track record, her pain still pulled at my soul, summoning me to be near her.
That was when a woman came out of Black Ties, a blonde angel in white that floated over to Desi gracefully with concern etched across her features. She put her hands on Desi’s back, startling her. Desi turned to her and spoke, shaking her head while tears spilled down her cheeks. I couldn’t hear them, but I watched as the blonde brought her hands up to Desi’s face, wiping tears away with her thumbs before pulling her into a close embrace.
I moved closer, trying to get near enough so I could hear what they were saying. I could make out bits and pieces from where I stood at the opening of an alleyway stairwell next to the building. It looked like the woman was trying to convince Desi to come inside, but she was refusing.
Desi raised her voice and I strained to hear, “Please, I can’t come in, just tell him to come outside. I need to talk to him. I just can’t go in, Ris.”
So this is Ris.
The woman nodded and hesitantly turned to go back inside, taking a final worried glance back at Desi before disappearing into the alcove that housed the double door entryway.
Desi swiped at her nose and I could imagine the sound of her sniffling as she found a way to force her tears to stop flowing. I could see that she was typing a text message on her phone and wondered who the hell she was texting now. The moment she finished, her hands dropped to her sides and my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I scrambled, digging my phone out as quickly as I could. She’d texted me. My heart skipped a beat processing a myriad of emotions.
Elation that she’d reached out to me.
Fear that it was over.
Anger from all the secrets and lies.
Lust in memory of the early days and the excitement of getting a text from the girl I wanted to marry.
DESI: I love you, Vaughn.
That was it.
I love you, Vaughn.
I could’ve texted her back. I could've waited to see if she had more to say. I could’ve stepped forward and showed her I was right here, for her. But light from my screen distracted me.
She's calling me.
I stepped backward, down a single step, farther out of sight and answered quietly.
“Hey,” I said plainly.
“Hey, babe,” she said too brightly.
Her voice was higher pitched than usual in her terrible attempt to hide the sadness in her tone. I guessed that if I peeked out at her, there would be a fake smile plastered to her face.
“Are you okay, Des?” I knew the answer but was
curious whether I’d get the truth or more lies.
“Yeah, I’m…” she paused, “Can you…” she trailed off.
I cut in, “Can I what?”
“I need to talk to you.”
My heart sank, suddenly believing the worst. She was ending this. Ending us.
No.
Just fucking NO.
I reacted without thinking. I ended the call, pocketed my phone and stormed forward toward her. She was trying to call me back until she suddenly noticed me three steps away and closing in.
I couldn’t help but think how easy it would be for someone to take her. She was so distracted, completely unaware of her surroundings and didn’t even notice the presence of a large, rapidly approaching man, until it would’ve been too late.
Thank God it's just me.
She jumped as I came into her peripheral, at least having the good sense to take a step back before her eyes locked onto mine.
“What is it that you need to talk about, Desi? This?” I waved a hand at the entrance to Black Ties.
“Vaughn, I –"
“What? You’ve got my attention, so talk.”
She looked warily at the doors.
I called her out, “Waiting for Law?”
Surprise cloaked her features and shocked her speechless.
“Yeah, Des, I know you’re cheating. I’ve known for a week. I’ve read your texts.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion, which in turn confused me. She stepped forward, brushing past me and storming off into the shadows between street lights. I turned and followed her quick pace as she walked toward the alley where I’d hidden before to watch her, half jogging down the stairwell. I followed after her, chasing her down the steps that opened to a square of concrete formed by the towering brick walls of the surrounding buildings.
She stopped suddenly at the bottom of the steps and spun around to face me. It happened in such a quick motion that I nearly crashed into her as she turned, making her a little unsteady on her feet as my body came unexpectedly into her space at the landing. I grabbed her waist with both hands to keep her from falling.
Her face was speckled pink, blotchy in her cheeks from old tears that still clung to her skin and new tears welling behind her chocolate eyes. I simultaneously wanted to hold her and scream at her but she spoke before I could decide how to react.
Her voice was broken, pained when she spoke, “I’m sorry, Vaughn, I wanted to tell you. I was planning to tell you when I called. It’s not what you think. I swear.”
Her words were a stick poking the fire, “It’s not what I think? Have you been seeing someone behind my back or not?”
“It’s more complicated than that, Vaughn.”
I let go of her waist and took a step back, fear boiling in my gut and evaporating in bubbles that burst explosively between us.
“What good is telling me now supposed to do, Desi?” my voice cracked unexpectedly.
She shook her head and stepped toward me, invading the space between us, adding heat that threatened to make me boil over, “Vaughn, please, listen to me, let me explain.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know what this place is.”
She reached out to grab my hand, but I pulled away. She sucked in an audible gasp at my denial of her touch.
A small, petty voice inside me nagged that now she would understand how it felt to be rejected of the slightest touch, the tiniest connection. She’d been doing that to me for so long that the anger inside me wanted to hurt her by doing the same.
But that wasn’t me. I craved her touch. Even now, even in the midst of all this. I could see how much that small action cut her deep. I didn’t want to be the cause of that look on her face, I couldn’t be.
“Desi,” I reached out to her, contrite in my tone.
She looked at the hand I held out to her but it was already too late. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head, her eyes cast downward.
I sighed, taking a step back, “Fine. I’m listening. Tell me every goddamn thing.”
Her voice was soft now, small, “I don’t know where to start.”
“Allow me to help you. Are you fucking someone else?”
She lifted her head and our eyes connected, “No. No, I'm not. I refused to do that to you.”
I chuckled humorlessly, “Oh, well, thank you for refusing on my behalf. Tell me who Law is, the guy you've been texting.”
“He’s a friend,” I didn’t miss the ever so subtle hesitation on the word “friend.”
“Oh? And what is it exactly that you do with your friend at a sex club?”
She looked down again, “I don’t know how to explain it to you. ”
I seethed with growing impatience, “Give it a fucking shot, Des.”
She exhaled sharply, the condensation of her breath visible in the cold winter air, “I let him hurt me.”
“What?”
She corrected herself, “I ask him to hurt me.”
My fingers were in my hair, surely making an unruly mess as I dug in with confusion. Fear and worry crept over me as I started putting pieces together. She was asking a man I’d never even met to put his hands on her, to hurt her. The marks I'd seen on her body before, the bruises on her ass, the welts and scrapes on her skin, it was all fitting together.
“I was calling to…I was going to tell you everything because I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore, Vaughn.”
She was inching toward me as she spoke, but I barely heard her. My heart beat faster, pounding adrenaline throughout my body, building and pushing against my skin from the inside, seeking a way to explode.
I closed my eyes, thinking about her crawling to the bedroom, asking me to be rough with her, to spank her, to punish her for being bad. She started behaving that way after nights out with her so-called friend. Nights out with him.
My pulse became the tick, tick, tick of a jealousy time bomb. I was trying so hard to keep my cool, but it was slipping from my grasp, while the urge to fight clung to me, working to take control of me.
I leaned toward her, taking a step so slight, she hardly noticed me creeping past the invisible barrier she was trying to keep between us.
“Did you come here with him, ask him to hurt you, and then come home and ask me to fuck you? Did you use me to get off after he hurt you, Des?”
She looked up at me from beneath her thick eyelashes, blasting me with truth reflected there. Her head was bowed ever so slightly and she seemed to have less to say the closer I got.
“Yes.”
My voice was slow venom, “Did you get wet for him, Des?”
She lifted her head abruptly, trying to muster courage against my inquisition. She swallowed and blinked, her eyes remaining closed for a couple of beats too long.
"Yes. But only once."
I moved and turned, so close to her now, that her body turned with me as I pushed forward. I forced her backward against the cold, brick wall.
"Why, Desi? Just fucking why? Tell me. Tell me what he has that I don't have. Tell me what he did to you that I didn't."
“It was the pain. The pain made me want to come home and fuck you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Vaughn. I don't know what's wrong with me."
Her hands landed on my hips, resting there as if this were a normal conversation, standing backed up against a brick wall in an alleyway behind a sex club.
Fuck me.
Fuck her.
Fuck all of this.
She’d always had a way about her that turned me on like a key to the ignition. I fucking hated it right now, right at this moment, when I was seething with rage that should make me want to scream at her, scold her, tell her off, walk away from her for good. But the way those dark eyes spoke to me without a word coming out of her mouth pulled me back into her orbit every damn time.
They told me she was sorry.
They told me she was telling the truth.
They told me to trust her, to forgive her.
They told me t
o claim her.
Chapter 21
Vaughn
“Prove it. Prove it was the pain that turned you on and not him,” I said, “Get wet for me while I hurt you, Des.”
Her mouth opened then closed again and she swallowed whatever words were trying to push their way out. I forced my body against her, wedging her between me and the wall at her back, pressing too close for her to run away from me. She’d run away from me enough already and I was fed up.
I brought my hand to her throat and laid it there gently, slowly brushing across her collarbone with my thumb, back and forth.
“Vaughn,” I could immediately see her sensibilities melting away behind her eyes, her voice softening to a sultry whisper.
“This is what you want, right? You want someone to hurt you? To take control of you?”
I pressed lightly over her throat, slowly and steadily increasing my pressure.
I expected her to tense up, to claw at my hand that continued to tighten. I expected her to kick me, push me, tell me to stop. But she did none of those things. The more pressure I added, the more she relaxed. She seemed to slink downward in my hold. She was melting, literally melting, underneath the control of my hand.
“More,” she said, and I could see that she meant it.
If she wanted to challenge me on this, I would take it. Taking care not to strangle her, I pinched her neck in my grip, tighter and tighter, coming right up to the line of dangerous without crossing. I thought this had to be too much for her, I had to be hurting her, maybe even scaring her. I was about to pull my hand away but then she bit her lip and blinked at me with her fuck me eyes.
“Shit,” I groaned and before I could help myself, my mouth was on hers.
I held her weight against the wall with my body as her tongue met mine. She kissed me as if she were truly suffocating and I was the breath she so desperately needed. As our tongues swirled, I felt her hands graze my thighs as they came down between us. She was unhooking her belt buckle, unbuttoning her jeans, pulling down the zipper.
