The Years Between Us

by Stephanie Vercier

  “Mmmm…” she moans, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes once I’m fully inside of her.

  I let out a small groan as well, the feeling of my cock lodged in her warmth intoxicating and unworldly.

  “I love you and this baby, Luke,” she whispers, cupping my cheeks in her hands while she gently begins to ride me.

  “You both are my life.” I hold tight to her hips, impressed at her ability to be on top, something she’d once feared in doing all wrong.

  “Always,” she says, nesting her chin on my shoulder, dragging her fingers through my hair and kissing my neck and ear as she moves her body over mine, my hard cock pushing into her wet tightness over and over again, this euphoria secondary only to my love for her.

  She’s the first to orgasm, clenching a hand around my neck and stilling before she softly cries out and relaxes. She breathes deeply into my ear, kisses my neck, and while I’m desperate for a release as well, I don’t mind the delay, the chance to hold her in my arms a little longer, to know how I’ve made her feel, to anticipate what is yet to come.

  She eases back so that I can look her in the eyes, and with her hands on my shoulders, she starts up again, grinding me with perfection until everything tightens and I come hard into her, groaning as I do and holding her still moving ass as tight to me as I can.

  “Claudia… Claudia…” I call softly, dragging my fingers down her back, pulling her to me, kissing her and then cupping her ass again to keep her close.

  She lets out a long breath. “Luke… I’ve missed this so much.”

  “Then come home with me,” I beg, knowing she won’t, knowing that in her mind she can’t.

  “You must know how much I want that,” she says, resigned and sad. “But we still have time… we have a lot of time, practically the entire day,” she adds with a newfound hope. “Spend it with me, and let’s not think about anything bad, okay?”

  That will be hard, nearly impossible to do in knowing that the passing of every minute is one minute closer to me having to leave her. “I’ll do my best,” I tell her, kissing her again, reveling in her and etching the memory of today in my mind for fear it won’t be happening again for a very long time.

  Chapter Forty

  CLAUDIA

  I’m still riding the high of being with Luke all day when I get home via the bus, which is my usual mode of transportation. Luke hadn’t wanted to just drop me back off at school in the dark, had been appalled that my parents hadn’t provided me with a car. I told him I do it every day, catch the bus for school, then take it back home—it’s silly to own a car in Seattle. But he was angry about it, pissed at my parents, and I asked him to please stop, not to ruin our wonderful day by being upset.

  And our day had been wonderful. After being with him in the truck, after feeling him, his strong body, his damp lips, his hardness inside of me, he’d insisted on taking me to a nice hotel to shower and clean up. We’d had sex again, then just held one another for a while before getting dressed and walking around downtown Seattle, going to Pacific Place and The Seattle Art Museum, ducking into Gameworks for some skee-ball, then an early dinner at a Thai restaurant when we’d had the discussion of how I’d be getting home.

  He’d settled on dropping me off at Bernard’s dorm, making sure Bernard was waiting for me outside, and he made him promise he’d see me home safely. And he had, even taking the bus with me to my stop, wanting to know all of the details of my day with Luke. And I’d mostly told him, unable to hold some things back, glad to be able to share the love I have for Luke with another person.

  But as soon as I walk into my family home, my mood changes in an instant. I get that feeling people talk about, the one where the temperature drops around you, where you just sense that something is very wrong. I take a few tentative steps through the foyer, tell myself I’m being ridiculous, and then move at a faster pace into the kitchen for a glass of water.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Oh, my god!” I startle, throw my hand to my chest and step back.

  It’s my mother, her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the kitchen counter, a half emptied glass of what I think is her signature drink, gin and tonic, within arm’s reach.

  “Have you been waiting for me?” I ask, thinking this is what it feels like to be an antelope ambushed by a lion.

  She slides her arms away from her chest, then lifts the phone she’s been holding. She turns the screen to me where there is a picture of a truck… of Luke’s truck. And it’s in the parking lot, the one that he and I—

  Horrified, I look up at my mother and the smug, angry look on her face. “You had me followed?”

  A slow smile spreads across her lips as she turns the phone back to her, swiping across the screen, then turning it back to me. “Another one taken just a few hours ago when you were supposed to be in school, Claudia.”

  Whoever took this photo had been behind Luke and I, trailing us by no more than ten or so feet when they snapped the pictures of us holding hands, walking along a city street, my head leaning on his shoulder.

  I’m at a loss for words, and though I feel anger and a sense of violation, I cannot be shocked, not when it comes to what my parents are capable of.

  “We’ve been having you followed ever since you got back,” she tells me, setting the phone on the counter, then taking a quick sip of her drink. “I was almost sure you’d gone to see Luke last night, but our PI confirmed you were just at the dorm of that friend of yours, Bernard?”

  There is a sick twist in my gut in knowing every move I’ve made outside of this house since I’d been back home had been witnessed by a private investigator, likely one my parents employed for the divorce cases they handle.

  “You had no right,” I get out between clenched teeth.

  “We most certainly do have the right.” She walks over to the small dinette in the kitchen, drink in hand, and sits. She stretches her arm out in an invitation for me to join her.

  I’d rather punch her than sit with her, but I do because she’ll make me talk to her whether I want to or not. “Why are you doing it?” I ask after I slide into the chair opposite her. It’s perhaps a senseless question, one I likely already have a plethora of answers for, but one I need her to answer.

  She laughs at first, not a crazy laugh, just one where she can’t imagine I don’t already know. “To keep you from making the worst mistake of your life. You think I do this for fun? You think I enjoy having a daughter I need to have followed by one of our best PI’s? Hardly. I’d much rather have a daughter in her second year at Yale, mixing with appropriate people and on her way to becoming a lawyer. But instead I’m faced with a child who is pregnant by a man she isn’t married to, a man who is close to twenty years her senior. And you ask me why I’m doing this?”

  Of course it all goes back to what they expect of me, what they want for me. “You’d rather I be with someone like Douglas Anders? So he can cheat on me in a few years like his dad has been doing to his mom for the last two decades?”

  “His father is a friend and a valued business associate,” Mom snaps.

  “And a cheater. You’ve mentioned it more than once, Mother.”

  “That doesn’t mean his son will be anything like his father.” She takes another gulp of her drink, unnerved.

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  I hadn’t expected Dad to be home since he wasn’t waiting here right along with my mother, but he’s here now, appearing from the shadows of the family room.

  “Try to talk some sense into your daughter,” Mom says. “I’ve already shown her two of the pictures. She knows we’ve been having her secured.”

  Secured. That’s what they call having me followed like I were a criminal.

  “You need to stop seeing him,” Dad says, somewhat hesitantly I think. He chooses to stand up against the refrigerator instead of sitting with us at the dinette. “It’s not good for you, not good for your future. And we’ve made a
n appointment for you. I think it’s best we end this baby business before it goes any further.”

  My mouth falls open before a chill runs down my spine. “You can’t. You can’t force me,” I say, knowing damn well what this appointment is all about.

  “There isn’t any harm in going,” Dad says, rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin like he’s tired.

  “No harm? I’m not going into a room with someone who wants to take this baby out of me.”

  “It is not a baby!” Mom snarls, pounding her fist on the table. “It’s a bundle of nerves that will just keep growing and ruin your life, Claudia, but it is not, at this moment, a baby.”

  I’ve never really, truly feared my parents, but I do now. The look that is in both of their eyes in this darkened room is not one of care and concern but one of anger and spite and the need to control me. I’m all for choice, but they’re trying to take away my choice, which is no better than if they’d forced me to have this child.

  “It will ruin your life,” Dad tells me, somewhat calmer. “You’re young, and you don’t see it, but we do. And Luke Prescott should know better, trying to persuade you into carrying his child to what, make up for the one his ex-wife killed while she was driving drunk?”

  “I can’t believe he still pays for her stints in rehab and in psychiatric facilities,” Mom piles on. “A woman who killed his own child. He’s just looking for a replacement for both of them, Claudia. That’s all he wants.”

  No. A man who is able to forgive a woman who was the reason for their child’s death… a man who goes on caring for her… that is not a bad man. He is kind and forgiving and loving. And if he wanted to replace Brandon, he’d have done it a long time ago. Why would he have waited for me? He hadn’t even planned on meeting me. And I doubt he and Danielle had concocted some kind of elaborate plan to get me to their house this summer so I could incubate a baby for him.

  “He has his own interests in mind,” Dad pushes. “He can’t be trusted to look out for you. That’s our job.”

  I could easily say aloud what I’ve been thinking. I could tell them how wrong they are about Luke, but it would only inflame them. They won’t stop until I acquiesce to their vision for me. And if they’re willing to have me followed around, then there’s no reason for me to believe they won’t keep my brothers from me or try to take Luke down or even make me get rid of this baby if I don’t make an effort to at least feign adherence to their rules.

  “I won’t have an abortion,” I tell them with determination. “Today is the first time I’ve seen Luke since I’ve been back, and I’ll promise not to see him again, but you can’t make me get rid of this child.”

  Mom looks at Dad. He eyes her right back. They have incredibly strong bullshit meters, and it’s more than likely they know I won’t really stop seeing Luke. I think their main objective has always been me getting the abortion, but even they know there is a limit to what can be forced on someone. This is still America, and I could make their lives as high-profile attorneys just as difficult as they are threatening to make Luke’s if they persist in this.

  “You will stop seeing and speaking to him,” Mom tells me after some kind of silent understanding with my father.

  “I have to at least talk to him,” I push back. “He is this child’s father.” And even if they’re having me followed, they can’t stop me from getting another phone or using a friend’s to call Luke. They surely know this too.

  “I cannot believe you want to have this baby,” Mom says with a look of disgust that matches her words. Then she leans her elbow on the table and basically buries her face in her hand.

  “Your life will be ruined,” Dad adds like he’s completely giving up on me, even though I see that spark in his eyes that tells me they aren’t finished. And I don’t doubt they’ll try talking me into adoption or just handing the baby off to Luke when it’s born and pretend my pregnancy never happened.

  “I’m going upstairs to see Kyle and Cory,” I tell them, getting up from the table. “And then I’m going to bed. But do we have a deal? You won’t try to hurt Luke as long as I promise not to see him again?”

  “For now,” Dad says, not making any kind of move toward me.

  Mom is still bent over on the table, more for effect than anything else I think.

  “Then good night,” I tell them.

  Along with some distress, there is a small amount of triumph I feel going up the stairs, a little bit of power as I check in with Cory and Kyle, Cory busy texting his girlfriend and Kyle shockingly busy with homework. If they’d heard the argument with our parents downstairs, they don’t mention it. Separately, I tell them I love them before heading into my room. Then, I text Luke and tell him everything that just happened.

  Luke: I’m coming to get you.

  Me: No… it’s under control.

  Luke: Having you followed isn’t normal behavior. I am coming to get you. I don’t care what they do to me.

  Me: But Cory and Kyle?

  It’s probably the only thing that has kept Luke at bay, and he doesn’t type back right away. But after a minute or two, he finally does.

  Luke: I get that. I don’t want to pull you away from them, but I’m worried about you… for you. I can’t feel good about this, Claudia. I have a right to protect you and this child too. I’m already in my truck. I’m coming.

  Me: No!

  Contradicting myself, I actually feel relief and excitement at the idea. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I would be safest with him. He doesn’t text back, and I’m sure he’s on his way, ready to break down our front door to get me.

  Me: I will go with you tomorrow. Give me one night to think on it. But you’re right. They’re being scary. You can pick me up at UW. I’ll go with you.

  There’s no reply, and I figure he’s hell bent on coming tonight, and the last thing I want is for Cory and Kyle to have to witness the upsetting scene that will surely unfold upon his arrival. When he finally texts back, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Luke: Okay. I’ll be at UW at 10 or earlier if you want. We’ll get through this together. I love you.

  Me: I love you too. 10 is good. I’ll text you in the AM.

  Even though I bought this phone myself, and it’s not on my parents’ plan, I quickly delete all of the texts. Considering what my parents are capable of, I can’t be too careful.

  It’s incredibly difficult to fall asleep, knowing that I’ll go with Luke tomorrow, knowing that I might not see my brothers until they’re eighteen, if even then, and aware that my parents might come after Luke with everything they have. But I do eventually sleep and then imagine I must be dreaming when I feel a prick in my arm and groggily open my eyes to see a woman standing above me.

  “Who…” I don’t get the rest out because I can barely keep my eyes from shutting again.

  “You aren’t hurting her, are you?” It’s my mother’s voice, the silhouette of her standing at my open bedroom door, light peeking in from the hallway.

  “She’ll be just fine,” the woman says.

  I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, and only make out a few muffled sounds before I drift, before everything becomes dark and quiet.

  Chapter Forty-One

  LUKE

  I’ve texted. I’ve called, but still nothing.

  I’m at UW, have been here for nearly forty-five minutes now.

  Either Claudia has decided against going with me and is shutting me out or something else has happened. And as much as I hate to think she’d have changed her mind about us, I’m far more concerned about the other possibility.

  Failing to get a hold of her, I head over to the dorm I dropped her off at last night, the one where Bernard lives. I go through half a dozen room buzzers, asking for Bernard with no luck. Frustrated but still willing to go through every last buzzer, he comes walking out the front door, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a look of surprise on his face.

  “Luke?”

  “Hey, Bernard… I can
’t get a hold of Claudia,” I tell him, not wanting to waste any time on small talk. “You know where she’s at?”

  He pushes his lips together and shakes his head. “I don’t. I haven’t talked to her since I rode the bus back with her last night. You worried?”

  “A little… yeah.” Truth is, I’ve been worrying about her ever since she left my house. “I was supposed to meet her on campus at ten. She never showed.”

  “Hmm… and it’s nearly eleven. I can try calling her, in case she’s just avoiding you?”

  “Please do.”

  He looks conflicted, probably considering she might be avoiding me for some good reason, but he takes his phone out anyway, swipes his screen and then holds it to his ear. Shaking his head, he brings the phone down and calls again. “Hey, Claudia,” he says, briefly giving me hope she’s answered before he continues, “let me know where you’re at because I can’t get a hold of you. Give me a call back, okay?”

  “Just voicemail?”

  He nods. “You don’t think something bad happened to her, like because of her parents, do you?”

  “I hope not. What’s your phone number?”

  He tells me, and I enter it into my phone, then send him a quick text.

  “Let me know if she contacts you, okay? I’m heading over to her house now.”

  “Do you want me to come… in case her parents won’t talk to you?”

  “No. They probably won’t even be there, but I’m going to give it a shot.”

  Before I leave campus, Bernard tells me he’ll keep trying her and the few shared friends they have to see if they know anything—Claudia apparently keeps mostly to herself on campus, and I’m sorry if I’ve had anything to do with that, if me getting her pregnant has made her feel like she can’t get close to people, that she can only have a small inner circle.