by S. Ann Cole
Stealing his cock from my fist, he ripped my underwear aside and drove into me with one fierce motion.
Head tipping back, I cried out, “Ohgod, yes! Davi…”
“This what you wanted all along…” he grunted, driving into me harder with each plunge, “isn’t it?”
I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him deep, ravenous, greedy. “Yes...”
“Why didn’t you just ask?” His fingers dug into my skin as his hips pumped faster. “I’m yours first, Ally. You know this.”
“Just shut up and make me come.” I clutched tight to his shoulders as he drove me farther and farther up the wall.
“All night, baby?”
In answer, my muscles clenched around him at the prospect. He swore into my neck.
“All night.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I WOKE TO A CONSISTENT KNOCKING ON THE DOOR, punctuated by an “Ally, doll, are you in there? Are you alive?”
Danni.
I flipped over in bed, in a room that wasn’t mine, and the events of the night before came rushing in.
Ah, yes, I was in Davian’s hotel room, not mine. I clenched my thighs together in remembrance of all that went down in this room. Hell, I was sore but I wanted more.
Knockknockknockknockknock! “Should I call the cops?”
“Go away!” I yawned out, pulling the covers over my head. Davian’s scent trapped in every fiber.
“Chica, it’s almost noon. You’re three hours late for your shoot.”
Holy shit. I flew up and scrambled out of bed. “Ohmigodohmigodohmogod,” I chanted as I bolted to the door and swung it open. Danni stood on the other side with his usual suave and elegance and patience abound, holding my handbag in one hand and my LV pull-along in the other. “How could you let me sleep this late?!”
He casually strolled past me. “I had no idea where you disappeared to. I told Sarah to cover for you. She told the director you have food poisoning and you’ll do your best to be there by noon. Then I had to hunt down your baby daddy’s number to find out where the hell you were. So….chop chop. Hurry!”
I lingered, about to ask him who he got Davian’s number from, hoping to all hell it wasn’t Xena.
Dumping my handbag on the bed, he flipped over the pull-along and began unzipping it. “Bitch, go shower. Now. I brought you clothes and toiletries.”
Sans argument, I pushed the trivial wonder aside and rushed off to the bathroom. I showered in 2.5 seconds and got dressed in even less. Cleaned my teeth and knotted my hair.
“Okay, good to go,” I said, snatching up my handbag.
“Three things,” said Danni, sitting with his legs crossed on the bed as he texted on his phone. “One, your blouse is on backward. Two, your baby daddy left you a note—yes, I read it. And dammit, but you two are worse than Karen and Hank Moody.”
Not giving a hoot whether my blouse was on backward or inside out, I went to the nightstand and picked up the note:
Next time you wanna take the edge off, just ASK me.
No need to chase my dates off.
Always yours,
-D
P.S. He will come back. When he’s ready. Just have a little faith.
I crumpled up the note, but instead of tossing it in the bin, I stuffed it in my handbag, not quite ready to let go of him yet. I could still feel him. The ache was real.
Danni was staring at me, his phone now pocketed away. “Do I even need to tell you how screwed up this is?”
“Keep your nose out of my business.”
“Never gonna happen. You are my business. And when you do something like, say, screw your ex while your man is in rehab recovering from a tragedy, I’m gonna tell you, whether you want to hear it or not, that that shit is messed up.”
I wanted to bark something vile at him, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he was right. I was still the same and therapy hadn’t changed me even an iota. “You don’t understand…”
“What’s there to understand?” he said, his disappointment in me damn near palpable. Danni was an anything-goes kind of guy, so the fact that he was so worked up about this said something. “There’s nothing complicated about it. You made your choice, so stick to it. You can’t have both worlds. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Jess is playing the role of karma, but let her have her fun while it lasts. Because Xavier will come back to you. So before you make another selfish decision, Alina, think about those who will suffer from the ripple effect. ”
“You know,” I seethed, “I have Xena to give me all these goody-good-good speeches when I don’t need it. You are supposed to be my partner in crime. You are supposed to say yes to sin and all things wrong. What the hell is all this bullshit?”
“If you want me to tell you that what you did is okay, I’m not going to. So go ahead and unfriend me on Facebook and unfollow me on Twitter. Whatever makes you feel better.” He stood and straightened his suit jacket. “But in real life, I’ll still be following your skinny white ass around, because you need me.”
Sending my eyes heavenward, I spun and started for the door. “What was the third thing?”
“Ah yes, number three,” he said, trailing behind me with the pull-along in tow. “Xena’s been blowing up my phone. That girl needs to speak with you bad.”
Oh shit, my phone. No wonder I slept late. No phone alarm. “Did Johnathan find my phone?”
“Yeah. He’s holding it for you till we get back on set. Here”—he handed me his phone—“use mine.”
Although we were in the middle of October, New York was as cold as death’s fingertips, with annoying tiny snowflakes drifting in the wind, so I waited until we were out of the hotel and sitting in the back of a warm cab en route to the set before calling Xena. I didn’t get through to her. Not even on the other five tries.
It wasn’t until Danni and I were heading back from an obligatory dinner party around midnight that I finally got through.
“Where on earth have you been?!” she answered without preamble. Her tone was a mixture of extreme joy and heavy sadness. “I’ve been trying to get to you for over a week now!”
I’d seen her calling when I was in Los Angeles, but I hadn’t answered, as I didn’t feel like we were friends anymore. No best friend would sit back and allow my competition to treat me like shit without ever standing up for me. These days, the only time I phoned her was when I craved updates on Xavier’s well-being. As such, eighty percent of the time when she called I ignored it.
However, for the couple of days we’d been in New York, I couldn’t remember her calling. “I forgot my phone on set last night, but I don’t know about the other times. I’ve been calling you all day to no avail. What is it? Is everything alright?”
“Stupid networks,” she grumbled. “Girl I was this close to putting out an Amber alert for your ass.” A long pause. “It’s Xavi…”
I swallowed, my thumping heart fighting its way out of its cage. Uncertain if I should anticipate excitement or fear for what she would say next. “What about him? Did little ugly redheaded aliens from Mars abduct Jess and take her back to her homeland, so now you want me to fill in?”
“No, no. It’s…Alina, he’s back.”
OhmyGod. “What?” My whole body coiled tight with something unidentifiable, my fingers digging into Danni’s thigh. “He…remembers?”
“Everything.”
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. “Then why do you sound like you’re about to go up on a podium to say his eulogy?”
“I don’t know,” she replied with a timid laugh, as though she wasn’t quite sure if she should be laughing or crying. “I just…I guess I’m just waiting for it to sink in. I mean, he’s been gone for so long and now…now he’s back.”
“How is he? How did it happen? Did he remember everything at once or gradually?”
“Well, I don’t know why any of this doesn’t come as a surprise to me, but he said his memories started returning over a month ago but chose to keep quiet about it. Weird enough, he
said the first thing he remembered was the night of the accident—while his doctors say it’s rare for those memories to even return at all, let alone be the first. But he remembers.
“Then, he said, things started coming to him in a rush, sometimes in his dreams, things he couldn’t be sure were his real memories or his imagination surrounding the things we’ve told him. He said he was confused, that he would get massive headaches, and would sometimes hear past conversations going on in his head while he was in the middle of a present conversation. He said everything was a migraine-inducing mess at first and that’s why he didn’t say anything to anyone.
“Until he woke up late one night and was sitting in the dark by himself and in a single heartbeat, everything, all of it, made sense. He remembered everything from his childhood to the night of the accident. He told me he just broke out laughing liking a maniac by himself, because he couldn’t believe how normal he suddenly felt, like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep to find he was missing a leg.”
Wow. “And he decided to admit remembering….when?”
“Just last week,” Xena said in an incredulous tone. “The bastard. He said he screwed with me sometimes but always felt bad afterward when I would cry because he didn’t remember me. Oh, and get this, he kicked Jess out, banned her visiting him. Not even because she caused the accident, but because she was telling him, oblivious to his gradual memory regain, all kinds on nasty stuff about you. She also tried to convince him they were engaged and she was pregnant with his baby, told him that they were coming back from a proposal dinner the night of the accident. Can you believe her?”
“Yes, I can, actually.”
Silence ensued. I had nothing more to say to her about Jessica. She’d chosen her side and she was going to have to stick to it, because I was done with this bullshit friendship. She’d been no different than Kaydeen—my previous best friend, Davian’s sister—had been at a time when I needed her the most. When it came down to it, neither of them had chosen me. That’s the last time I’ll ever open up and call another woman a ‘friend’.
Through the strained, lengthy silence, Xena asked in a whisper, almost coaxing, “Do you want to know what he asked me last night?”
Of course, I did! I wanted to know everything. I wanted to hug him, taste him, weep and wail on his chest that he came back. He. Came. Back. My Samson.
I replied past the dryness in my throat. “What?”
“I think you already know, Alina.”
I had an idea, but I still wanted to hear it. I still wanted to hear that he asked for me. Said my actual name of out his mouth. “Tell me.”
“He said, ‘Tell me the truth, I can take it, no need to wait for a right time: she’s gone back to him, hasn’t she? That’s why she isn’t here? The truth, give it to me, sis. The leg, was it too much for her? That’s why she’s gone back to him?’”
My heartbeat was nonexistent. No, the reason I wasn’t there was because Jessica Bitchhead and his sister made sure I wasn’t!
Tears threatened. I swallowed. A fist-size lump in my throat. “What did you tell him?”
“What do you mean? I told him the truth. Davi has moved on with his life and you’re working again to keep your mind distracted….” She trailed off, silent for a moment, and then she sought, “Is that not the truth? Alina, if it’s not and something happened, please tell me now so I don’t—”
“No, no, of course, it is,” I rushed out. “Nothing happened.” I’m going to hell.
Another long quietude, until she finally said, “Okay. Well, good. Good.” A wary pause. “So, are you coming? He doesn’t ask if you’re coming or if you know his memories are back because I don’t think he believes me. I see the way his eyes light up every time he hears he has a visitor, and the disappointment in them when he realizes it’s not you. That’s why I’ve been searching you down. He needs you, Alina. It’s so obvious to everyone, but he’s just not saying it out loud.”
And I need him. More than I need eternity. Taking a deep breath, I said the unthinkable, “Xena, I-I can’t. I’m stuck here for the rest of the week. You know I’d be running back right now if I could.”
But I was lying. I could care less about the stupid photo-shoot, and would reimburse them for every hour wasted if I had to.
The truth was, I was a fraud, a liar, and a cheater. What I did last night was unforgivable. After that, while I could still feel the burn of Davian between my thighs, there was no way I could face a man who’d tragically lost a leg and his memory for over six months, and smile to his face like a doting, faithful girlfriend.
I wasn’t good. I was scum. A bitch. Unfaithful. Disloyal. Dishonorable. No better than that plastic character Jessica.
How could I face him, lie to him, and pretend as though I’d been waiting all this time? I hadn’t waited. Just like he hadn’t waited on me and slept with Jessica. That night in the hospital room, I’d promised him I would wait. Yet, I didn’t. I did the exact same thing he had done: slept with my ex.
Although, I did not regret the tension I’d released with Davian—enjoyed every second of it—I did feel disgusted with myself, not the act.
I did not intend to repeat the act, however. Last night, I just wanted to feel something, anything, other than the emptiness, sadness, the hopelessness that I’d been walking around with since the accident. Davian, he helped with that. Successfully.
For the first time in months, I woke up with a smile. A real smile. For the first time in months, I’d fallen asleep without sleeping pills washed down with tears. So, no, I would not apologize for something I was not sorry for.
Guilty, yes. Sorry, no.
And see, that in itself validated me as a selfish, self-centered excuse of a human being. Because I should feel sorry. I didn’t deserve Xavier. Not even the useless, rotten part of his leg that had been chopped off and discarded. I deserved nothing and no one.
Therefore, I couldn’t see Xavier. At least, not yet.
“You’re so full of shit,” Xena called me out. “You’re Alina O’Hara. You do whatever the hell you want, contract or not.”
See? Even she knew it. “Xena, I’m sor—”
“Come,” she insisted, almost pleading. “If you love him at all, come see him. Even for a few hours. Please, put him out of his misery.”
My heart squeezed and squirmed, pain knocking on my bones. “Later, after my shoot. I will call later and talk to him. That’s the most I can do for now. I really am stuck, Xena.”
For a mighty long moment, there was nothing on the other end, and I almost thought she hung up, until, “You know, I really thought you were changing, but I can see you’re still the same. Cold, insensitive, and emotionless.”
“You said you liked me the way I am,” I reminded her with my own bitterness. “Make up your damn mind.”
“Here’s the thing,” she started, tone getting uppity, “if you’re not here in twenty-four-hours, I will re-add Jess to the visitors list—“
“How very predictable,” I mumbled in sarcasm.
“She’ll do a damn good being the woman you’re not,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And I really do hope my brother comes to his senses and chooses her this time. Because, now more than ever, he needs a good woman.”
She hung up.
“I take it Xavi’s awake?” Danni asked after five minutes of silence.
Knowing what he would say if I told him, I wouldn’t be rushing back to Los Angeles, I ignored his question and gave him a task instead, “Get in touch with Xavi’s prosthetist. Have him get the latest, most advanced prosthetic leg there is. Don’t care how much it costs or how far it has to ship from. Just be sure it’s the best out there.”
“Are you—”
“And if you ask me a single question about Xavi for the rest of week, you’re fired.”
Xena never answered when I rang to speak to Xavier. I gave up after a few rings because I knew she never would. It was her ploy of forcing me to fly home. Although e
very cell in me was screaming for me to hop on a plane and head to Los Angeles, I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I spent the rest of the week in New York wallowing in guilt and feeling miserable. Even after our time there was up, I found excuses to linger in the city for another two weeks, delaying and dreading going home.
I kept waiting to see if I would feel an ounce of sorry for what I did. Guilt, yes I was drowning in it, but remorse, not even a little bit. That lack of remorse created a bridge between me and Xavier. A bridge I had no idea how to get across to get to the man I loved.
He was the man I chose. He was the man I wanted to be with. There was no doubt about these things. So I why did not I feel regret?
“You need to just tell him,” Danni suggested as Mel drove us out of LAX.
I was staring unseeing out the window, contemplating whether I should go visit Xavier first or my son. Checking in on my son first seemed the better option—another valid reason to delay facing Xavier.
We’d been updated, via Leo, that it was Xavier’s last week in the rehabilitation center and he was currently training with his prosthetist to walk on his new super advanced bionic leg. He didn’t know I sent it, of course. He’d rejected it at first when his prosthetist told him it was an anonymous gift. Said he would buy his “own damn leg”, but when I told Leo how much I paid for it—nearly a quarter of a million dollars—they all agreed to tell Xavier that it was a gift from the band in order for him to accept it.
Now, Leo said, he couldn’t stop going on and on about it. How natural it felt and how it made everything “a shit of a lot easier”, and how it made him feel “cool”.
This made me happy. Knowing he was slowly but surely taking control of his life again. My Samson was regaining his strength, and soon, he would bring the house down.
“Just come clean,” continued Danni, regardless of my ignoring him. Of course, he hadn’t heeded my warning, and I believe I fired him about a hundred times within the last two weeks, but here he was. Still annoying me. “Consider a fresh start after all that’s happened. Especially now that you know he slept with Jess. There isn’t a better time to come clean and start over.”
