Beautiful Elixir

by Addison Moore

  “She said she didn’t want them.” I motion to the records. “Do you?”

  “Nope.” He flexes a dry smile. “I have the originals. Zoey wanted to expand the collection. I told her it wouldn’t be the same.”

  “It’s not. She’s not the same either. She’s taking this pretty hard.” I leave out her attempt at seduction. I’m sure the rejection didn’t help.

  “Thanks for showing up, man. How are things with Ken? Did you nail that bastard that’s screwing with her?”

  The polygraph bounces through my mind, settles in and stays a while.

  “Not yet.”

  “Get to it.” He offers a light sock to my arm. “Get this crap in the past, and let’s get you two in the future. We should go out sometime. Just the four of us.”

  “I’d love that. We’d love that.” That grin tries to break free on my face again, but that damn polygraph has it stifled.

  His demeanor darkens. “What’s wrong?” Gavin and I spent several grueling weeks tied to the hip last summer, trying to get Demi free of the nightmare that ensnared her. And we did.

  “Nothing’s wrong—yet.” I give him a light sock back. “Take care of your sister, would you? Let her know she can take some time off if she needs it. She’s lucky she has you. Not everyone has a sibling they can count on.”

  Solomon’s face pops up without warning.

  I take off and find Kennedy and her girlfriends sitting on the deck of the cabin, and I take in a full breath as I get out of the car.

  Stay calm. This will all work out fine. She’s probably right. Keith is a sociopath. Once she aces her polygraph, we’ll be at an impasse—we’ll call in the head doctors and take it from there.

  I give a friendly wave as I make my way up the steps, and Kennedy smiles the smile of a stranger. It’s funny how you think you know someone, you would bet your life and then, bam—you discover what they’re capable of.

  But I can’t hold it against her.

  After all, she doesn’t know me—Solomon flashes through my mind again—or what I’m capable of.

  Testimony

  Kennedy

  There are not a whole lot of things that can throw me for a loop. At an early age my mother taught me to be prepared for whatever life might hurl my way. She warned it would launch so hard so fast at times that it would feel as if hellfire were raging against me. This is one of those storms. Hellfire is coming at me hard and fast.

  Charlie, Reese, and Melanie have all gathered around like chicks to a mother hen—albeit a mentally fragile mother hen at the moment. Although, they do like to point out my kick-ass capabilities and happily inflate my ego with how awesome, and pretty, and smart I am! I’m almost sick of myself after the bizarre pep talk that’s been taking place. It’s as if they know it’s bad, and, in an effort to shield me from exactly how bad things are, they’ve placed me in a bubble that floats precariously into the sky. Just one pinprick of reality, and I’ll splatter all over the sidewalk of truth.

  Honestly, they have no clue the level of despair I’m feeling. I made the mistake of sending a mass text telling them I was in a funk, and they all believe it’s the sex tapes that have me down. Yes, the thought of my nether regions lighting up a big screen—my orgasms playing out like a touchdown on game day to a bunch of frat boys huddled over a bowl of chips makes me want to hurl, but it’s Keith and his promise of a polygraph that has me anxious. Each hour that drifts by, I wonder if Caleb has received the results. If he knows things I wish he wouldn’t. I’m not breathing a word of this to anyone. I’m just glad I had the girls here with me today to ease the pain, even if they were clueless as to how bad things were about to get for me.

  Caleb arrives a little after dark. My stomach churns in knots as the girls whimper how gorgeous he is. A Calebgasm takes place sans Reese’s participation. She’s still very much enjoying her Acegasms, thank you very much.

  “We’d better head out,” she rallies Mel and Charlie to their feet.

  We’ve been here for hours—at his place. The girls wanted to head to the Poison Barrel, but that’s too public for me and next door my mother has adopted a very large ear. To say the least, she’s terrified for me. I’ve never seen her so sick with worry, which in itself is worrisome. I wanted to shake that sick look off her face. Is this so much worse than what we went through before? I wanted to shout at her frightened expression. Is this so much more terrible than what you had me do? You have trained me. You made me who I am. I am the exact representation of who you are—a manifestation of your darkest hour, playing out on a loop because I can’t figure out how to escape the monster that I’ve become.

  “Hello?” Charlie waves her hand over my face, and I startle.

  I glance past her shoulder and find Caleb already inside speaking to Reese and Mel at the door.

  “Wow, you were pretty far gone. You want to share?” Charlie hitches my hair behind my ear. Charlie and I go way back to when I first arrived in Loveless. I can tell her anything. I sort of wish I had done just that so many years ago. Sometimes when you bottle up the past, you’re just setting yourself up for a toxic explosion somewhere down the line. Unfortunately, for me, my detonation has already occurred.

  “Just zoning out. You guys headed down the mountain?”

  “Yup. We’ll be back this weekend. It’s Neva’s birthday, Warren is throwing a surprise party.”

  “Nice. It’s good to see he’s reformed—if not liberal with the keggers.” I make a face as we head inside. My arms collapse around Caleb, and I take in a greedy kiss right here in front of my sparse guests.

  “Show off!” Charlie swats me over the shoulder as she heads out the door. “Call if you need me!”

  I pull back to see Caleb and those deep-welled dimples smiling back at me. His phone goes off, and he steps toward the kitchen.

  “Goodnight ladies.” He gives a slight wave before tending to his messages.

  Reese gives me a brief hug. “He is handsome. Do everything I would. Isn’t that the advice you like to give?” She gives a playful bite to her lip.

  “I’ll make sure it’s naughty and hot.” I give a quick wink. It’s true. I’m the first to suggest the lewdest—crudest time be had by all, and, yet, I was always the last to have it. I’ve built a palace around me, constructed solely on the bricks of my transgressions, and now I watch as it all crumbles to pieces. Some lies you can get away with, some lies you can’t. Something tells me I’m about to find out which is which.

  Mel is the last one out with her arms crossed tight, her stance defiant. “You really are a lucky little bitch.” Her eyes snag on mine a minute too long. “Love you like a sister.” She lunges at me with a wild embrace. “Live it up, girl. You deserve what’s coming to you tonight.” She glances at Caleb as she says it before giving a kiss to my cheek and disappearing into the dark.

  I wonder what my friends, what Reese, would think if they knew the real me? Normal people wouldn’t have done the things I’ve done. Normal people wouldn’t have built their entire foundations on lie upon lie. At some point, though, it all became white noise—an entire field of words streaming through my mouth, actions that were just as easy to disregard. Sometimes I think I’m a sociopath and, sadly, this has never alarmed me.

  I shut the door and give a dramatic spin toward Caleb—my man. It actually makes me happy to say this, and I want to laugh at myself. How quickly I’ve become one of those girls—the all too happy to see her boyfriend, doting girlfriend. It’s funny because with Keith it was all pain and sorrow, and with Caleb it’s all sunshine and fucking—just the way it should be. A simple smile comes to my lips.

  “Who was that on the phone?” I’m not sure why I asked—just asking to ask. I don’t really care. But in a way I do. What if it was his mother? And what about his brothers? What kind of relationship does he have with them? Doesn’t the one on trial want him around and vice versa?

  He glances down at it a moment before sinking it back in his pocket.

&nbs
p; “Nobody.” Caleb takes off his jacket, his muscles popping from underneath his dress shirt, and I’m already gone. All of the stress, the anxiety of this treacherous day are in the past. Now there is only Caleb and his ocean blue eyes to contend with. I can live with that. “Did you eat dinner?” He asks so sweetly I could cry. Caleb cares for me, for all of my basic needs as well.

  “The girls brought take out. I left some for you in the microwave.”

  “Thank you. I’m okay, though.” Caleb rubs his thumb over my cheek. He inspects me with his gaze as if he were trying to pickax his way into my brain. The smile fades from him as his lids drip low. “Take off your clothes.” Caleb’s strict attorney voice is like drinking an erotic tonic. I can feel the charge in me electrifying my bones from my feet, jolting up my thighs, all the way to my chest then shooting out like lightning through my arms.

  A heated moment thumps by as the room pulsates with a heartbeat of its own. Caleb has taken off the gloves, he’s ready to rumble, and it starts right here with my clothes hitting the ground.

  “Yes sir, counselor.” My fingers touch the stubble on his cheek, and I expect to see a spark. “Better yet, why don’t you take them off for me?”

  His lips invert into the briefest frown. “I take it you don’t like doing what you’re told.”

  “Hate it.” I give a casual shrug.

  “Not one to play by the rules, are you?” He says it more as a fact than a question.

  “Sometimes.” Lie. He’s right, but I don’t like giving in so easy either.

  “You like to make the world bend around your needs.” He says the words slowly as his hand glides down to my neck. “Make it do your bidding. You don’t like the storyline you’re given? Mold it to what you want it to be.” He leans in and takes a genuine bite from my neck.

  I take in a sharp breath as his teeth sink in. A shock of pain travels from my jaw to my thighs.

  “You know me.”

  He pulls back, and I motion him back to the fire he just abandoned.

  “I’m okay with a little biting, Caleb. Don’t be afraid to make it hurt.” I press his lips back to that aching spot he enlivened near my jugular.

  “I fell in love with your neck first,” he whispers against my skin, and it quells the pain for a moment.

  “Should I be insulted?” A dark laugh bubbles from me.

  “No—it’s sublime, your neck.” His lips lock over my flesh just below the earlobe as Caleb forms his mouth to me. “I want to have my way with it.” He murmurs through his kisses. Caleb latches on. I can feel the intense pull of pressure as he sucks me down, his mouth demanding my blood vessels burst for him in a show of glory, like bloody sparklers on the Fourth of July. I remember him wanting to do this during those face-sucking fests we held down at the swampy end of the lake. I told him no way no how—no evidence, and, now, here he is, marking me in that adolescent way he’s wanted to all along. I won’t stop him. I want it. I crave it. I want to make him mine in some special way, too. Tonight we leave marks and claim territory. I very much approve of where this is headed.

  Caleb inhales me—absorbing me right down to the marrow. His heated affection, his determination is something outside the bounds of erotic. Caleb nurses my flesh as if it were an exotic elixir. My hands glide down his body, pulling and tearing at his shirt, his belt.

  Caleb dips his hands into the back of my jeans and gives a mean squeeze. This is a different Caleb than the softer, let’s-make-love version I’ve grown accustomed to. This one is up for something more impromptu, something far more cutthroat and dangerous. This one demands to fuck.

  A lazy smile drifts to my lips as I sway my head back and forth.

  “Take my clothes off,” I gravel out the words. “Right now.”

  My blouse is torn off so violently, not only do the buttons ping across the room, but the sound of fabric ripping peals through the air like thunder.

  “A little wild tonight, are we?” I pull back, dislodging him from project Super Hickey. My neck already feels singed—branded—in that location. I’m betting a scarf will be a required accouterment for the next several weeks. Caleb has really done some damage tonight, and I’m more than impressed. I give a dirty grin. “What’s gotten into you, McCarthy? Not that I’m complaining.”

  Caleb pulls back, stoned with lust, his eyes glowing like a glacier. I love the way his dark hair frames those illuminated orbs. It’s haunting in a way.

  “You got into me,” he says it sad like some morbid confession. “You always get into me. You’re in my head, my bones, my blood. I can’t escape you, Kennedy. You’re a part of me, and I don’t ever want that to change—no matter what.” His eyes widen as if there were a “what” dancing right there on the tip of his tongue. Caleb is skirting an issue, and this makes my stomach clench with fear. I hate fear. I’d much rather channel the energy toward something far more useful.

  I take off my jeans achingly slow—twirling my hips, riding my body up and down his like a skilled pole dancer.

  “I’ve been to strip clubs before, Caleb,” I whisper over his lips, denying him the kiss. “I’ve seen women grind their hips, shake their junk while men stuff their panties with dollar bills. Is that what you want me to be for you? A dancing dollar whore?” I shimmy down his body one more time, rubbing my lips over his erection through his pants. “I can do it. I really don’t mind.” I turn around, bottom pushed out, still looking at him—I would never deny myself the pleasure of watching his jaw drop. My fingers dip into my panties, and I glide them down an inch. “Why don’t you do the honors?” I arch my back, projecting myself toward him just a little bit more.

  Caleb groans, already too far-gone with lust as his hands land over my thighs. He swipes my panties off in one aggressive move, his finger penetrating me, deep, without warning.

  “There you go.” I push back into him. “Let’s see you let go of that aggression.” I lean over the cool granite of the island as Caleb takes me from behind rough and greedy. This isn’t the charming lover of days past, this is the bad boy version, the I’m-pissed-off-at-you-right-now, the I’m-going-to-punish-you version, something intense is happening—makeup sex without the proper fight.

  Caleb rockets into me, mercilessly, like a prizefighter defending his glory. He pounds in, over and over, until his body collides one last time in a fit of marked aggression and then he freezes. Caleb shudders into me, letting me know the show is over for now, my body, my needs unmet until later. No, this isn’t like Caleb—the generous lover, the let’s-get-you-there-first hero that my orgasms have come to appreciate (pun intended.) This is greedy sex. Caleb is sending me a message, a pornographic Morse code I can’t quite decipher.

  He presses his hand over my shoulder. His moist flesh still adhered onto my back. I wait for him to pull out before twisting into him. Our panting mouths unsmiling for the first time.

  “Now tell me what has you so worked up”—I breathe the words heavy into his chest—“that you were afraid to tell me to begin with.” My gaze presses into his just shy of rage. “What has you on edge, Caleb? What do you know?” It’s my turn to latch on and start sucking for blood. I’m not letting up. I don’t care how many vessels get broken—I can break every bone in his body—I want the truth dammit. I’m already certain it involves me in the most unforgiving way.

  He gives a lazy grimace, dimples no smile. “Let’s take a shower.”

  “We’re taking a bath.” It’s in my nature to be difficult. I secretly think he loves it. After all, that’s what he signed up for, the complicated girl, the challenge, the wild one who doesn’t understand the simplicity of boredom. He wants it all, but what he doesn’t realize is, that, it comes with a price.

  Caleb scoops me into his arms, stepping out of his pants on the way upstairs. He stubbornly turns on the shower and finishes disrobing as if his clothes were doused in flames. He pulls me into the hot, hot, steam, kissing me soft and lithe, proving that all of the aggression has been worked out of his syst
em.

  “Tell me, Caleb. What’s happened? What has you so worried for me?” There, I’m calling him out.

  Steam rises between us in thick, vaporous billows, white as smoke. We were in proverbial flames, our relationship evaporating right before us.

  “Something did happen today.” Tiny globes of water latch onto his hair like frost. Caleb is enchanting this way. He is his own universe, the only one in this world who ever truly cares about me.

  A knot builds in my throat. A swell of emotion takes over, and I desperately want to abort the topic but can’t. I stepped on this train, fuelled it with my insatiable curiosity, and now he’s confirmed my worst theory, something has happened.

  His brows dip into a V formation, his sorrow already manifesting for me.

  “The results came back from Keith’s polygraph.” He takes in a solid breath, pacing himself, pacing me. “He didn’t upload your videos, Kennedy. He didn’t pull any of those pranks to turn the accusations back on you.” He bears into me unblinking. “But then you already knew that.”

  I don’t say a word. I don’t blink, swallow, or move. Here I am naked, adhering to Caleb’s body like wet paper, and all I want to do is run.

  “There’s more,” he says, his hands steadying me by the waist in the event I decide to dive headfirst out the glass wall. “You’re taking the test tomorrow.”

  And there it is. Ground zero, right here—Caleb saved the grenade for last.

  My mouth opens, but the words get locked in my throat, unable to swim to the surface.

  Caleb touches his finger to my lips and shakes his head. “Not tonight—not around anyone else. I am your mouthpiece, Kennedy. Don’t you forget that,” he says it stern like a warning. “I am your judicial supporter, your helpmate. I am your fucking attorney.” There’s a sadness in his eyes, veiled only slightly under his constant evergreen longing for me. “I am your servant.” Caleb gets down on his knees, parting my thighs with his hands, then with his shoulder as he takes a gentle bite of my hip. He moves the hot trail of his mouth down the inside of my leg, landing his lips, his roaming tongue right over the wettest part of me.