by M. Never
“Why did you join the Army?” I ask curiously. Kayne has been forthcoming about most things, but he does dance around some subjects, like his childhood, expertly. Kayne clams up for a beat before he answers robotically. “It was three hot meals a day and a roof over my head. Not very patriotic, I know, but the truth. I didn’t have many choices then, it was either keep living on the street or enlist.”
“You were homeless?” This is new information.
“For a little while, yeah. Not my proudest moment, but it was better than another shitty foster home.”
“Was foster care that bad?” I ask.
Kayne shudders. “Let’s put it this way, I won the lottery every time for crappiest foster parents.”
I frown. “What was it like?”
He looks away, and I’m convinced he’s shutting down.
“When I wasn’t starving to death or being used as a human punching bag?” he answers bitterly, “Hell.”
“How long did you live on the street?” I scan over his beautiful face, the lines angular, his jaw clean shaven and clenched tight.
He looks back at me, his eyes devoid of all emotion, like he has to put up a wall just to talk about it.
“Six months. That last home did me in.”
“How?” I frown.
Kayne expels a deep breath and closes his eyes. This is clearly difficult for him.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
It looks like he’s considering my out, but he surprises me and continues talking.
“I had just turned seventeen when I went to live with the Millers. My social worker raved about them,” he says detached. “Said they were the best of the best. I didn’t believe a word she said. By that time, I was so broken, so raw, I didn’t believe anything anyone said to me. I was always on the defensive because it was all I knew how to be. They were a pretty young couple, maybe early forties. I remember them being very welcoming. Their house was big and clean, and for the first time in my life, I had a room of my own. I pretty much holed up in it for the first month I was there. Mrs. Miller would bring me all my meals and gave me the space they told her that I needed. Both she and Mr. Miller would try to talk to me, but they quickly realized how far gone I was. It took a few long months to finally believe they weren’t out to hurt me. I was always waiting for them to punish me somehow, hit me, starve me, do something I was used to. But neither of them ever laid a hand on me. They just waited patiently for me to come around. After about three months, I started eating dinner at the table with the two of them and then helping around the house after school. Mr. Miller let me hang out in the garage while he worked on his old car listening to eighties’ music. Mrs. Miller taught me how to do laundry and make scrambled eggs. She was the closest thing to a mother-figure I ever had. And after about six months, I finally relaxed and believed I had found two people I could trust. That’s when everything went wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
“Mr. Miller would go away on business trips periodically. Not for very long, a few days at the most. Mrs. Miller, or Kim by that time, and I were cooking dinner. It had become sort of a thing for us. It was our time to talk. She was really nice, funny, and easygoing. But that night she was acting weird. Usually, she dressed pretty conservatively in sweaters and dress pants, but she had on tight jeans and a button up that wasn’t exactly buttoned up. She was drinking wine and being really flirty. It was odd. And then, while I was cutting peppers, she brushed up against me and it definitely wasn’t by accident. I nearly sliced my finger open. I didn’t like women to begin with, and I really didn’t like it when they invaded my personal space. I tried to move away, but she ended up stalking me into a corner, telling me how attractive she thought I was, and how much she wanted me, and how Mr. Miller, Rob, would never have to know. Ellie, I was horrified. I wanted to escape down the kitchen sink. And then she kissed me and I completely freaked. I pushed her away as hard as I could and then just ran. It was my breaking point.” Kayne laughs crazily. “My first real kiss and it was with a forty-year-old woman trying to take advantage of me.” He looks at me so dejectedly that my heart disintegrates right on the spot. “My trust had been shattered, again. By another woman. I was done. So I chose one hellhole over another.”
“What was living on the street like?” I search his hollow eyes.
“Fucking cold. And lonely, and hard. But it was safe because I depended on myself, and I was the only person I could trust.”
I am incapable of speaking. So many things are starting to make sense.
“I spent eight hours in the recruiter’s office the eve of my eighteenth birthday just waiting until the minute I could sign. It was the best decision I ever made.”
“Why?”
“Being in the Army gave me structure and stability. It redefined me. I was ready to be someone new. Then I met Jett, and my life changed in a whole other set of ways. I was a wild animal before the two; I had no discipline, no self-respect, no integrity. They built me up into more. Not that I’m saying I’m perfect. We both know that I’m not, but I’m way better off than I was. And with you in my life, I’m even better.” He tangles our fingers and holds on tightly.
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I don’t think you understand how much power you have.”
“I don’t think I do, either.”
Kayne clenches my hand, our palms smashing together. “Ellie, you’re the one person who can destroy me. You’re my sin and my absolution, my indulgence and my starvation, and every right to all my wrongs.”
Oh Jesus, I think I just dissolved. This man can govern me with just his words. There’s no controlling the onslaught of emotion that overcomes me. Compulsively, I crush my lips against his and fight back the tears as I suck and lick and plunge my tongue deeply into his mouth.
He kisses me back with matched force until we need to come up for air. “What did you mean when you said your trust had been shattered by another woman?” I press my forehead against his, winded, with my heart beating rapidly.
Kayne looks up into my eyes and his anguished expression almost destroys me. He grabs onto my neck and closes his eyes like he’s holding onto me for dear life.
“Kayne?”
“Ellie,” he says my name so wounded. “I’m not sure I can.”
I have no idea how to keep him talking or even if I should, but I blurt out, “In high school, my prom date tried to rape me.” Kayne’s eyes fly open. “He was drunk and we were at an after party at a hotel. We were in the bathroom fooling around, and when we went as far as I was comfortable with, I told him to stop and he wouldn’t.”
Kayne looks at me disturbed. “Ellie, are you trying to kick me while I’m down?”
“What? No. Why would you say that?” Then I realize. “Kayne, you never raped me.”
“I might as well have.” He drops his head back and knocks it against the pool’s edge.
I force his face back up so I can look at him.
“I never told anyone about it.”
“Then why are you telling me now?” His voice is guarded.
“Because you said I could talk to you about anything. And I want to be able to do that. I just don’t want it to be one-sided.”
“I don’t want that, either, but I don’t know if I can . . . about this.”
“We all have things that tear us up inside, and I can tell you from experience that talking about it helps.”
Kayne sighs heavily. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Jett.”
“I’m not going to force you to tell me. But I’ll listen whenever you’re ready.” I kiss him on the lips with an abundance of love. Yes, exactly that. Love.
“I’m going to go dry off for dinner.” I go to pull myself up so I can get out of the pool, but Kayne latches on to my thighs and stops me dead with just his impenetrable stare. The wall just got two feet thicker and twenty feet higher.
“I onl
y met my mother once,” he says, his voice so cold it freezes the pool. “I was seven and having a really rough time with the foster family I was with. They were especially abusive.” I settle back down onto Kayne’s lap. “They would lock me in a dark, tiny closet and leave me there for days. I still don’t know why, maybe so they didn’t have to deal with me.” He swallows a very large lump in his throat, and I’m suddenly having second thoughts about him taking this trip down memory lane. “They made me pee in a bowl and eat scraps of food they threw at me like a dog.” He clears his throat. “One morning my social worker shows up with this woman. She was really pretty.” He says it like a child as his eyes tear up. “She even sort of looked like me. Same face and eyes, even hair color. And she was sweet. Really sweet. The two of them took me out, we went to the park, and for pizza, and even got ice cream. It was probably the best day of my life.” His voice cracks and so does my heart. “When they took me back to my foster home, the woman, her name was Sarah, took my hand and sat me on the curb. That’s when she told me who she was.”
“Your mom.”
He nods. “She said she had been sick and wasn’t able to take care of me for a long time, but she was better now and wanted us to be a family again. I remember asking her if she would take me to the park if we were a family. She said yes, often. That’s your biggest concern as a seven-year-old, you know, if you get to play.” He laughs sadly. “I hugged her so hard before she left, pleading with her to take me with her. She was my mom, I belonged with her. But she said that there were things that needed to be worked out, so I needed to stay where I was a little while longer. She promised she would be back. She looked me straight in the eyes and promised. And I believed her. I fucking believed her and I loved her.” Kayne splashes his face with the pool water, as if trying to wash away the surge of emotion. “She never came back, Ellie. I waited for days, weeks, months, years—sometimes I think I’m still waiting.” He breaks, tears spilling out of his eyes. Unable to stop myself, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him as tightly as my arms will allow. “She destroyed me with hope, the same way Mrs. Miller destroyed me with trust.” He hugs me back, digging his face into the curve of my neck. “You’re the first woman I have ever entrusted with those two things.”
I pull back and look at him. I think I finally understand the power that I hold. His tears continue to fall, trickles of heart wrenching sadness running down his face. They compel me as much as they destroy me. With no hesitation I lick his cheek tasting the salty anguish on my own tongue.
He jerks back, stunned. “Why did you do that?”
“You always lick away my tears,” I respond simply. Looking back, every tear I ever shed in his presence was never done in vain. It was his strange way of connecting, showing me he cared.
The doorbell rings, causing us both to jump.
“Room service,” Kayne mutters.
“I’ll get it.” I kiss him firmly before hurrying out of the pool. I grab a towel to wrap around me, and let the young man in, directing him to set the food on the table outside on the deck. I follow him through the bungalow, and when we get outside, Kayne is already out of the pool and drying off. His mannerisms are stiff and his face is blank.
The young, tan waiter quickly sets up our plates and leaves unobtrusively. Kayne and I both stare down at the food, but I don’t think either of us is hungry at the moment.
“I’m going to go shower,” he tells me withdrawn, walking toward the sliding doors leading to our bedroom. I grab his wrist as he passes by me. “We can take one together later if you want.” I look up at him naked of all reservations. This man’s emotional deprivation runs deeper than I could have ever imagined.
“Of course, I want that.” His voice is gruff. “Do you still want it, that’s the question?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I was just acting like the biggest pussy on the face of the Earth.”
He’s hiding again.
“No, you weren’t. You were acting human, and that’s the sexiest thing on the face of the Earth.” I cuddle up to him, encouraging him to take me in his arms.
“You can hurt me, Ellie,” he says, stripped bare.
“I know, but that’s the last thing I want to do.”
“I hope so,” he breathes.
“Just keep trusting me, the way I’ve learned to trust you.”
ELLIE IS HOLDING ONTO MY wrist with a death grip telling me to trust her. What she doesn’t realize is that I do. Completely, wholeheartedly. I’m all in—one-hundred-percent. I’m just not sure if she is. Hearing her tell me that she trusts me gives me faith in whatever it is we have, but she hasn’t even hinted to me about how she really feels. It makes me wonder if she can ever really love me. If she can let go of who I was in the past and accept me for who I am now. Whomever that may be. My biggest fear is that Ellie will wake up one day and realize I’m not what she wants, that I’m too intense or controlling or broken to truly love. I know it’s only been a week, but Ellie has become an unshakable part of me, my nucleus.
I can only hope that she feels it, the truth of my love, and someday gives me the truth of hers in return.
I KNOCK SOFTLY ON JETT’S door.
I know he’s expecting me.
The door creaks open exposing a dim light and a shirtless Jett.
“Evening,” he says flippantly.
“Hey.”
“You know, this ritual is starting to bug London. She thinks there’s something going on with us, and she’s jealous she can’t join in.”
“I highly doubt talking about all my jumbled feelings is going to excite her.”
“Sexually, no. But she likes you, Ellie. She wants things to work out with you and Kayne. I do, too. I didn’t realize how much I missed having you around. I even miss dressing you up.” He grins.
“And by dressing me up, you mean seeing me naked.”
“Exactly.” He shoots a finger and winks.
I roll my eyes.
“So? What are we chatting about tonight?” He walks outside, and we take our usual seat on the ledge of the wooden walkway right outside his bungalow.
I shrug as I gaze up at the sky. It’s the middle of the night and the stars look like a blanket woven together by streaks of silver clouds.
“We went skydiving today.”
“I heard. Twice. Someone is a closet adrenaline junkie.” I don’t think Jett realizes how true that statement is. I bite my lip nervously. “Ellie? Can I be frank?”
“Are you ever not frank?”
“You’ve got me there. So here I go. I feel like there is something you want to talk about. Something very deep-seated and dark. But you’re holding back. Am I right?”
I stare at Jett. How the fuck does he do that?
“Kayne told me about his mother,” I divert.
Jett nods. “I figured he would. He told you way sooner than he told me. Took him years.”
“She really just abandoned him like that?”
“Apparently. I’ve tried to talk him into looking for her. See what happened and get some closure, but he doesn’t want anything to with it. That wound is just too deep.”
“It nearly killed me when he told me. To see him hurt that much.” My heart is still stinging.
“Yeah, but being with you is definitely filling a void in him.”
“You think?”
“Definitely. He actually smiles now. Like genuinely smiles. And he isn’t so uptight either. I swear there were times he was so tense, I worried he was going to trigger a natural disaster.”
“That sounds pretty extreme.”
“Yeah, well, Kayne is pretty extreme.” He swings his bare feet.
“Then I guess I haven’t experienced the eye of the storm yet.”
“What do you mean?”
I fiddle with my hair, running my fingers through my low ponytail manically. “You weren’t wrong when you said there was something deep-seated and dark that I wanted to talk about.”
“Go on.” Jett is now tremendously invested in our conversation.
“I just feel like Kayne is holding back.”
“Holding back? His feelings?” Jett raises his eyebrows.
“No, he’s very clear about how he feels, but physically he treats me very delicately. That’s the best way I can describe it.”
“Delicately,” Jett ponders. “Like, makes sweet love to you?”
“Like he’s suddenly taken a liking to vanilla.”
“Oh.”
“And your tastes have evolved beyond vanilla.”
“Way beyond.” I turn red.
“You want him to dominate you?”
“I want him to own me. The way he used to,” I admit. Is there a hole I can crawl into and die?
“Oh, you are far gone.”
“I’m crazy.” I put my face on my hands.
“No, you’re not. You were exposed to the lifestyle, and you liked it. It’s perfectly normal, and it speaks volumes about how you feel about Kayne and the bond the two of you share.”
“But everything is so different now. I don’t think he wants that with me anymore.”
“I disagree. He’s afraid he’s going to scare you off.”
“That’s funny, because I’m scared of the same thing.”
“Impossible. Short of you sprouting a dick, that man isn’t going anywhere. And trust me when I tell you, even if he isn’t showing it, he wants to own you just as much as you want him to.”
“What do I do?” I ask anxiously.
“Sweet thing, the best advice I can give you is to put on your big girl panties and tell your man what you want. Communication is important in any relationship, but it is vital in the one you’re after.”
“Why is communication such a scary thing?” I bite my nail.
