Gavin comes up and starts chewing the fat with Caleb, and I take a few brave, migratory steps away like a baby bird taking that first leap, fully anticipating to plunge to her death, and yet I’m still breathing, still standing on my own two Louboutin feet.
“Hey.” A deep voice rumbles from behind, and I spin to find myself face to face with none other than Keith Stearns—and, God, does he ever look pissed.
Shit!
His pink shirt is rolled up at the elbows, his chinos glow against the dark lawn. Keith has always been a poster boy for preppies everywhere.
My heart jumps into my throat, into my ears, as it deafens me while trying to pound its way out.
My eyes flit over the sea of bodies. Somehow I’ve drifted a little further than I thought from Caleb, and, now, here I am, face to face with my perpetrator, my victim.
This is probably the part where I should confess to some of the outlandish things that have happened up until now. Keith Stearns was not going to receive a cheat-on-Kennedy-Slade hall pass while I bowed out of the relationship like a good passive little doormat. But I’m not confessing to a thing just yet. I’ll wait for my attorney to be present and all that good shit.
“What?” I spit it out, not at all amused that he has the stones to speak to me in a public setting—this public setting no less.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He hustles me just past the borders of the party as we leave the protective shelter of the tents behind. The brisk autumn air scrubs against my bare arms, my legs, harsh as sand paper. “I told you to call this shit off weeks ago. I get it. You are fucking pissed. I am a dog. But you are shaping up to be a one of a kind bitch.”
“Let go.” I pull my arm free. “I’m maintaining my innocence. Besides, word on the legal street is that you lawyered up with my father’s firm. Way to deal another low blow. My father? Really?”
The white of his eyes glows against the night sky as he examines me in this dim light.
“Oh, honey, your father is the one person on earth who truly understands you have a fucking screw loose.”
“Say another word about my father, and I will slap you into tomorrow. My handprint will leave an indentation on your children’s children. Test me on this.”
His hands spike in the air with surrender. “Look—lighting the Dean’s lawn on fire? That fucking sick pizza you sent? My kid sisters almost went to town on that one. And that Wikipedia page? Really? I fuck corpses?” His entire person goes rigid. “Ken, I know you’re hurt, but—”
I hold a hand up a moment trying to process all this. “You’re saying I did those things to you?”
“You know you did. Right along with an entire list of other juvenile shit.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out something long and plastic, and it takes a moment for it to register as a pregnancy test. “It’s positive. Are you kidding me? I always used a rubber. So whose is it?”
He tries to give me the stick, but I back away as if it were poison.
“That’s not mine.” I shake my head. “I didn’t do it, I swear.” It hurts to tell the truth after such a long string of lies. The truth feels barbed and twisted, sharp as a razor as it claws its way out of my throat. I’m the girl who cried wolf—only the wolf is me, and I’ve been eating myself alive with the guilt for years. “I have to go.”
He snatches my wrist again and twirls me into him as if we were dancing a psychotic waltz.
“You are fucking insane, Kennedy. You can’t deny all this shit and continue to get away with it. I did that little polygraph your attorney requested. As soon as he gets the results, my good name will be exonerated. And what about you, Ken? What are you going to do to clear your good name?” He pumps a dry smile—his face red with rage and vodka. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a good name to uphold. Everyone close to you knows you’re a fucking liar. And when the truth comes out, everyone else will, too.”
I shake my head as I stumble backward. “No.” I turn and run toward the tents as the party rages on. Reese and Ace dance in the center on a raised wood floor as the crowd slowly fills in around them. The lights dim to a moody blue, and not one cell in my body desires to be here. My heart beats erratic over my chest, the seam of my dress bouncing with the rhythm.
Keith has taken a polygraph. This is unexpected, uncalled for perhaps, mostly it feels like a betrayal—although I’m not sure why. Keith is smart, book smart, not cock smart. He can’t understand the simple premise behind a committed relationship. I was his, and he was mine. Our hearts weren’t sold on the fine print though. I think that’s where everything went wrong. We signed the proverbial paperwork without committing to the very first rule of monogamy: fall in fucking love. Keith and I hardly had lust at times, and yet he still managed to shred me to pieces. But if he didn’t break my heart, what did he rip apart so ruthlessly? My ego? I suppose I’ve always known I had one.
Mel and Charlie head in this direction with a few of the other girls, and I struggle to leave but am suddenly landlocked by the crowd. Lucky for me, Mel and Charlie break off from the group and show up alone.
“What the hell?” Charlie pulls me in for a quick hug. “You look like you’re about to cry.”
Mel makes a face. “The Kennedy Slade we know isn’t a cry baby. She kicks ass and takes names, right?” She offers up a punch to my arm that hurts more than I care to admit.
“I just had a nasty run in with Keith.” I shake my head. “Unbelievable.” I’m just about to break it down for them, the whys and the whats when Charlie lets out a melodic groan at something in the distance.
“That six pack you hired as your attorney is so freaking hot.” She’s shouting, obviously wasted. “Tell me you’re fucking him because, if not, all bets are off. I’ve never seen eyes that blue, dimples that deep, and that hair? Are you kidding me? My feet are dying to run through it.”
“Keep your panties on,” I warn.
“Oh, honey, those melted off five minutes ago. I can’t take my eyes off him. You better wrap him around your pinky extra tight, just saying. Keith was okay, but this guy is in another league.”
Mel wrinkles her nose as she takes him in from over my shoulder. “You’re really into this guy, aren’t you?” She bites her lip a moment continuing on with her ogling analysis. “What’s his name again?”
“Caleb,” Charlie says it dreamy while on her tiptoes, craning her neck, creating a spectacle of herself over a man I will never let her near. She’s too far gone on lust and Cosmopolitans. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit to see her with her clothes off, chasing him around the lake like some orangutan in heat. That’s my job. I’m the orangutan in heat around here.
“He is a looker,” Melanie adds. “Everyone is going to want him, now that you have him. You’re the it girl, Ken, you always have been. What you wear becomes that season’s classic. Who you’re seen with magically becomes the popular crowd. From the car you drive right down to your nail polish, everyone at Yeats wants in on the action. But I guess you’re used to it—everyone wanting to be you. Always getting your way. You really live the dream life.” She sighs with her gaze still set over my shoulder. “Heck, I want to be you, too.”
I glance down at her, annoyed. At the moment I very much don’t want to be me. Hell, no one knows the real me. If they did, they’d all run for cover. My lies, my secrets, they’ve woven themselves into a nest of screaming rats, entwined and entrapped with their own tails in one grotesque knot. A rat king—we studied that monstrosity once in science, eighth grade, the year my life turned into a thousand rats entangled, ensnared with their long rope-like tails until they became one large, screaming, moving knot that eventually died a horrible death locked in its own menace.
“You ready to hit the dance floor?” A warm voice, reminiscent of sipping spiced cider in front of the fireplace, strums from behind. With Caleb I can envision every romantic scenario far into the unknowable future. With Keith I could only foresee a dinner date that would end in a fight, perhaps a lakesid
e drive in his overpriced sports car.
I spin into Caleb with his nice suit, his devil-wears-blue-suede-eyes-tonight and crash my lips to his—softly at first for the briefest of moments before my tongue swims greedily in his mouth, and I force myself to pull away.
“I’m ready to hit it.” I glance down the length of his body as I pant those words.
His cheek glides up one side. Caleb’s eyes hood low for a moment, very much alerting me to the fact he’s ready to hit it, too.
“Everything okay?” His hands slip coolly into his pockets as if insisting on upholding an air of arrogance. As much as I hate the fact he didn’t overreact to that kiss, hell, react at all, a part of me is strangely aroused by this indifferent development. “Did you see anyone slip something into your drink?”
Ah, there he is. The sarcastic beast awakens.
He’s being facetious, but I can tell he’s bewildered by my spontaneous turnaround. I can’t help it. I need a very stiff drink to get me through this God awful night, and seeing that I don’t really care to get wasted, I’ll simply have to settle for something very stiff—and I do believe Caleb McCarthy is packing in that arena.
“Everything is great, counselor.” I pull him in by the neck, my fingers knotting up in his hair. “I think maybe it’s time we reconvene in your chambers. I’d like to present you with a body of evidence. You know, convince you to remain on my side.”
“Mmm.” He studies me a moment. “Why wouldn’t I be on your side?”
“Rumor has it you’re running with the enemy. Who is it you don’t believe? Him? Or me?” Here is his chance to fess up.
His eyes close a moment. “Back to that body of evidence.” His dimples cut in without the effort of a smile. “You sure about that?”
“I’m more sure of that than I am about my next breath. Just answer one question for me.”
“Anything.” His lids hang low, his lips still swollen from my harsh assault.
“Do you think you can be there for me no matter what?” There. It’s as vulnerable a question as any that have ever left my lips. It’s the crux of all the questions I have ever had for Caleb and was too afraid to ask. Caleb, who promised he’d be back for me one day. Caleb who is anxious as hell to land me in his bed. Caleb with his dirty, dirty mouth, his naughty list of promises he plans to deliver.
His features soften, his mouth falls open, no words.
“Kennedy”—he whispers, brushing my cheek softly, leaving a fiery trail in his wake—“no matter what, I will always be there for you. I came back, and I will never desert you. I will never leave you. I will never choose another living soul over your precious being.”
That’s all I needed to hear.
I’m his.
I’ve been just that since the beginning.
* * *
The moon casts its spotlight over us from that stretch between the circus tents and the Nicholson’s old cabin. I pull him just shy of the porch and kiss him hard once again like an abuse, a domestic assault. For a second I think of having him right here. Letting him push me up against the smooth trunk of this silver dollar tree hauled in by landscapers because the evergreen that once stood here wasn’t good enough for the Nicholsons. They always did think they were better than everyone else. They always believed people were watching them—taking note on how to do it right. Speaking of which.
I pull back, panting into him like we just finished a sparring session.
Caleb is slightly bent at the knee, bringing him down to my height. For Keith I would have to stand on my tiptoes, and here Caleb makes concessions for me. I pull him upstairs, and he hastily lets us in, slamming the door shut like a clap of thunder.
I push his jacket off, tear at his shirt while he gropes for the zipper. It’s an odd dance, the disrobing of two first time lovers. It’s jagged, and passionate, mostly it’s a full workout, struggling with the unexpected layers—the missile launching of shoes. Caleb’s pants stray around his hips while I reach into his boxers and pull him out, hard and ready, so thick and heavy in my hand, I take in a quick breath.
“Wow,” I say under my breath without meaning to. Just letting him know how impressed I am feels as though I’ve given away all of my power. Who am I kidding? Caleb McCarthy stripped me of my power a very long time ago. They say never rely on someone else for your happiness, but I did exactly that, and, right about now, I’m not too sorry.
He pulls my dress over my head and lazily, achingly slow reaches back to unhook my bra—his eyes pinned to mine as if he were motivated by a dare. The moon kisses his features as the curve of a smile takes over his face. He frees the girls and tosses their lace pen to the side as his mouth finds a home over the softest part of me. I pull him in close by the back of the neck, smothering him, feeling him smother me, and let out a ragged groan.
“Caleb.” A burst of relief comes when I say his name. For years it’s been brewing inside me, bubbling up to the surface without my permission. So many times when I was with Keith it wanted to jump out of me. I’ve held it down, drowned it, tried to forget it as the game just became too hard, but tonight I get to shout it to the stars. Tonight his name will roll freely from my tongue, and it feels like a hard won victory.
An urgency builds in me, so hostile, that I can’t wait another minute to have him inside my body. I jump up on his hips and guide him to the wetness that’s been waiting for him for so very long.
“I’m on the pill,” I whisper hard in his ear—not a lie—as I plunge down over him, his body stretching me, claiming me, as I’ve waited for him to do for the last few years. “Yes,” I hiss, pressing my head to his chest and just soaking in the feel of Caleb deep inside me. It feels like a pleasure, a treasure, a goal I have worked my whole life to achieve.
Caleb slams me against the door and thrusts his lust into me, over me, against me like a riot, like a heartfelt flood of emotion that has finally crested the dam of our own making.
All of the time—the distance, that once separated us had dissolved, and, on this magical October night, we are finally inseparable, we are finally one.
My body drums against the door like a violent, angry knock in the night as Caleb most certainly shows me how a real man fucks.
There’s one thing crossed off that list.
Caleb
The night steals many things, color, shapes, the dexterity of thoughts you might have otherwise had under the sun—some say it has the power to steal your soul. Long before I made the decision to leave South Lux, I had entered into one very dark night. I left a mess behind as I trailed toward Loveless, toward Kennedy one final time. I left my mother to her own unstable devices, my father to his special brand of self-hatred, my brother, Abel, to his self-righteousness, and Solomon to rot in a cell. In effect, my life had become one long, horrible night, and I had lost my soul somewhere between there and here. But the real reason I came, the real reason I put down roots, signed up for a position in my uncle’s law firm was for this girl, right here. And, at the end of the day, I would very much admit that, yes, Kennedy Slade was worth losing my dirty, stained soul over.
My lips glide over her cheek, until I bury them in the hollow of her ear.
“This is where you belong, wrapped around my body.”
A tiny moan emits from her throat as I continue to pound my existence deep inside her. Kennedy is tight, virginal tight, and my mind wanders on the outskirts trying to qualify this. Her head knocks into the door creating a horrible hammering rhythm, so I spin her, backing her against the table by the entry. I lay her down and pull her thighs to my ears, burying my tongue where my dick was just a moment ago. I lap her up and down, fighting not to come from the effort. I’ve dreamed this fantasy scenario so often that my mind is questioning reality. She leans up and curls her fingers in my hair, giving a series of hard tugs. My mouth riots over her like I was putting out a fire with my tongue, and I am, or starting one, both maybe. She slides her body down and lands heroically over me once again, impaling herself o
ver my cock with a marked precision, and we both give the beginnings of a laugh. I move her to the sofa, our hips still conjoined as I thrash my body recklessly into hers as if she could take it, as if she should.
“Caleb.” She grunts my name out, in broken spastic pieces. “Yes, that.” Her chest pumps hard over mine. “Fuck!”
I’ve never heard a girl belt out that word in bed before, but technically we’re not in bed, and Kennedy Slade is no mere girl, she’s all woman. I’ve known that from the beginning.
“I want you there first.” I pull out and fall to my knees, my tongue trekking back to that sweet wet zone, knifing her to the brink of her own climax until she’s pulling my hair and gasping beneath me. It takes less than I imagine to bring her to the height I’ve wanted to take her to since that first day in the marsh.
Kennedy lets out a sharp cry. Her knees go into a power lock position around my skull letting me know she’s already there. But I won’t stop until I get a full eviction. Her hands flatten over my face as she gives a firm shove, and I land back over her, my body spearing inside her once again as I bury myself in my new warm home. I study her face a moment, that glazed, drugged look in her eyes, her mouth opening and closing as if she can’t find the words.
“Say you want this.” I whisper over her lips, and her eyes widen a notch. For a second I envision her decking me, pushing me away and clipping my dick off in the process. “Say it,” I thrust into her as if punctuating my sentence, and she chokes out a cry.
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