THE RULE OF THREE_A.C.H.E., MOTO, and TRINITY

by M. Never

  As soon as I step into the room I’m offered champagne by a waiter wearing a tuxedo and white gloves balancing a silver tray full of bubbling flutes.

  I accept graciously. I’m going to need all the alcohol I can get my hands on tonight.

  The whole atmosphere is beyond upscale. It’s distinguished and impressive, and sometimes I can’t believe I’m actually part of this world — considering my shady upbringing. But that’s all in the past. The only place I’m looking now is the future. At least, I’m trying to.

  I peruse through the room admiring the beautiful detail of the molding on the walls as I look for Lara. I know she’s here somewhere.

  “Miss Paige?” Caught admiring the huge chandelier above my head, I hear my name. I look down to find Mr. Turner regarding me warmly. He’s an older man with wild grey hair, smile lines, and crow's feet. He’s supposedly a pit pull in the courtroom, but I’ve only ever known him to be a big puppy dog.

  “Mr. Turner.” I smile.

  “I’m so glad you came.” He returns my expression tenfold.

  “I hate to miss a party.” Lie.

  “Well, I’m so glad we have a chance to chat. I wanted to ask if you’ve seen the applications for the paralegal opportunity.”

  “Umm, the ones about applying for school?” I wrack my brain. I know something came through my email.

  “Yes, that exact one. Every so often the firm offers a higher learning opportunity to its employees. I thought you might be an excellent candidate. You’re very smart, always well organized, and I believe you would represent the firm well.” He beams, and I’m floored.

  “Really?” I’ve never considered being anything more than just a secretary, but a compliment — and recommendation — from one of the founding partners has me reeling.

  “Really.” He emphasizes with a nod. Mr. Turner is so mild-mannered it’s hard to picture him as cut-throat as his reputation proceeds.

  “I’ll consider it.”

  “Fine, fine.” He nods some more, continuing to smile. “Just remember, opportunity presents itself, but it doesn’t last forever.” He clicks his champagne glass with mine.

  “I will definitely keep that in mind,” I promise.

  “Good. You look lovely, by the way. Enjoy yourself, Miss Paige.” He winks good-naturedly before rejoining his party.

  Now, why can’t Alec act more like Mr. Turner? Cordial in a social setting and an attack dog in the courtroom. I’m sure it would do wonders for his personal life.

  “Ever!” Lara hisses my name. I turn to find her decked out in a black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline detailed with diamonds. Damn, she went all out.

  “Trying to get someone’s attention?” I drip my fingertip into the opening of her dress.

  “Damn right.” She slides her eyes over to Luke, who’s standing next to the intricately molded mantel in the main living room. He can’t pull his attention away from her, even though he is trying to desperately stay engaged in the conversation going on with some of the other junior partners, Alec included.

  He’s failing miserably, though. It’s clear all he wants is Lara.

  “You two are going to set the building on fire if you keep looking at each other like that.” I step in front of her, blocking his view.

  “We can’t help it.” She peeks her head around me. “It's like . . . gravity or something. I can’t control it. I just want him all the damn time.”

  I’m familiar with that feeling, even if it’s been an eternity since I actually experienced it. That connection, that pull. The whole world disappears, and the only thing left is you and him and the electricity the two of you create.

  My chest aches from the memory. From the crater formed by the devastation of the past.

  “Just be careful. Your attraction is way obvious,” I warn her. “You can’t get fired. You’re my sanity at work.”

  Lara smiles at me, her big, blue eyes shining. “I’m not going to get fired, but I may have to quit.”

  “Not without a ring on your finger.” I’m attempting to be the voice of reason. “Don’t throw your whole career away for a crush.”

  “Everly.” Lara bites her lip. “I don’t think this is a crush. It’s the real thing. He told me he loved me. That he wants to be with me. And I sure as hell want to be with him.” She’s like a love-struck puppy in a designer dress.

  I sigh. “Just as long as you know what you’re doing.”

  “I hope I do, ’cause I am ready to throw everything away for him.”

  “What about him? Would he throw everything away for you?”

  Lara slides her eyes over to me. “I think he would. You don’t know the afternoon we had. The sex,” she whispers. “It was on another level. We connected in a brand-new way. It was amazing. Life-changing. And then he told me, no, he professed how much he loved me. I’ve never been happier. I’ve never wanted someone so much,” she gushes.

  Have you ever been so happy for someone it actually makes you hate them? I despise what I’m feeling right now. I’m thrilled Lara found love, but I’m also jealous as hell at the exact same time. I want what she has. I want it back. That feeling of freedom, of invincibility. There’s nothing like it, the addiction, the high. But when you lose it, the detox is debilitating.

  I’ve swam through Heaven, and I've crawled through Hell, and for the last eight years, I’ve lingered in Purgatory. Drifting, trying to find my way through this isolating world. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to put myself out there. It’s time. I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve finally decided to dig myself out of my own grave.

  I want more.

  I deserve more.

  Sometimes you don't think you’re worthy, and then one day you wake up and realize you are. And that tiny bit of empowerment can spark a change. My spark is small, but I’m working like hell to start a fire.

  Am I scared? Yes. Terrified, actually. But fear has crippled me long enough. My desire has grown stronger than my dread.

  And I want what Lara has. Starry eyes and butterflies and happiness. I want happiness. Real, tried-and-true happiness. Nothing sugar-coated. No complications or smoke and mirrors, just something genuine. Something simple. Someone to kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve, to open presents with on Christmas morning. Someone to turn to in good times and bad. Someone I don’t have to miss.

  Someone — something — tangible. Touchable.

  Real.

  I want real.

  I down my champagne before grabbing another glass from one of the silver trays being serviced around the room. I stand next to Lara quietly as she eye-fucks Luke for a good portion of the night. By my third glass of champagne, I’m antsy. There is a cluster of people I don’t know around me, and Lara is gravitating toward Luke as his coworker clan slowly dissipates. Soon, he’s alone, and Lara is headed straight for him. Their attraction is so blatant you could see it from Mars. As much as I adore Lara, I want no part of their little romance. Their affair is detrimental to all involved. And I’d like to avoid losing my job on account of being guilty by association.

  As Lara makes her way to one side of the white marble fireplace dominating the living room, I make a beeline in the opposite direction for the balcony. I’m dying for some fresh air and a few collective minutes alone.

  3

  Alec

  I inhale a long, hard pull from my vape pen, holding the sweet tasting weed vapor in my lungs before releasing a large cloud of smoke. I watch the grey tendrils dance in front of my face before rising above my head and dissipating into the blackened night sky.

  Fucking placidity. For a fraction of a second, my mind is calm. It’s slow, and unruffled, and undisturbed. I inhale again, the lights of Upper Manhattan twinkling for miles right before my eyes.

  All the high with none of the judgement or repercussion. Just a pleasantly innocent aroma of fresh-baked cookies wafting through the atmosphere.

  I zone out, leaning on the balcony as my mind takes a hiatus.
I don’t have long, a few precious minutes to myself before it’s back to the grind, rubbing elbows with senior partners and hobnobbing with high-profile clients. Pretentious is an understatement, but it’s a crucial part of the job.

  I exhale another large cloud of smoke, and as it clears around me, the figure of a woman materializes in my peripheral vision. The sharp curves of her silhouette catch my attention, and as I slowly turn my head, so much more seizes my mind. Her big, green eyes capture me. The look in them dreamy, as if she just woke up, yet so vigil they penetrate right through me. A strange silence surrounds her, like it’s haunting her. Haunting us both. I forget to breathe, and when my lungs recognize the thinning oxygen, I inhale. I inhale her. I breathe her right in and feel her everywhere. Her essence assaults me like a hallucinogen, rushing through my bloodstream, affecting me like a drug. A drug so much stronger than anything I have ever experienced. And I’ve experienced the spectrum. I know what a high is, and this is something on a completely different level. No words are exchanged, no verbal interaction, just a moment shared between two people caught in a time lapse. She seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on how I know her. If I know her. I must. There’s an intimate air about her. But a woman as stunning as her I would surely remember. The brief time in her presence has been burned into my soul. I absorb her, my psyche floating over every inch of her body, consuming her curves, memorizing the features of her face, the pattern of her freckles lightly splattered on her cheeks and over her nose, the movement in the waves of her long, brown hair, and the gold flecks glinting like shards of glass in her sharp, emerald eyes.

  There’s four feet of space between us, and I want there to be none. I want to be closer. The attraction building is a raging firestorm, and the only thing that will calm the flames is her hands on me. Her hands all over me, and mine all over her. Something throbs inside me as I take one slow step closer. I can’t stop myself. It’s compulsive, the need to be nearer to her.

  The environment enhances around us as I take yet another step. The building lights are twinkling a little bit brighter, the night sky is circling like in a Van Gogh, and the smell of her skin is as potent as a prize-winning rose conservatory. It’s a wild dreamscape encased in stale reality.

  Her swift intake of oxygen is as clear and concise as an axe swinging through the air. And all I want is to steal her breath away to keep it for myself.

  Her rosy lips part just as I come into reaching distance, and that’s when I realize . . .

  “Ever!” A shrill voice cuts through the haze. “I’ve been looking for you.” Lara stops short when she finds Everly with me. Not that we’re technically together. We’re technically nothing, just two acquaintances standing way too close.

  “Um . . .” Everly fucking Paige bats her long eyelashes at me before giving her friend her full attention. When did the bland secretary become the fiery siren? “I was just getting some air.” Her soft voice sends multiple kinds of chills down my spine.

  “Well, come on.” Lara snatches her hand, yanking her close, and whispers something in her ear. Her smile is way too devilish.

  Everly’s eyes widen. She bites her lip as Lara drags her away. I want to reach out and grab her. Roar possessively at Lara to leave her with me. But I don’t. I keep composed, clinging on to the last moments of my out-of-body experience.

  Everly throws me a strange look over her shoulder just before she disappears inside. I understand the expression. I don’t know what the fuck that was either, siren. But I liked it. And I want more. So much fucking more.

  Of all the women in all the world — Everly fucking Paige, the girl who’s plain Jane, Blah Betty, and totally off limits is my original fucking high.

  And as I breathe in another lungful of vapor, I’m left with only one question that matters . . . how the fuck do I get her alone again?

  4

  Everly

  I stick my key in the lock right before dawn. Lara kept me out all freakin’ night, clubbing with her and Luke and a few other errant employees who like to break the rules. Luckily, Alec was nowhere to be found. I shiver as I turn the key, reliving that oddball encounter on the balcony of the firm’s loft. The way he was looking at me. With those wild, piercing blue eyes. It’s like he’d never seen a woman before.

  Weird does not begin to describe that man.

  I drop my clutch on the table, kick the door closed, and in a zombie state head straight for my bedroom. Sleep. Now, I internally whine. The crack of sun breaking through the horizon burns my tired eyes, but it’s the voice that flits through the room that really reduces me to ash.

  “Late night?” His tone is soft but firm, and oh so judgmental.

  “I’m a big girl. I can come home when I want.” I can barely stand up straight, my knees fighting against the edge of the mattress to keep me vertical. I just want to face plant into my pillow and pass out. That doesn’t look like it’s in my foreseeable future.

  “I know you are.” My visitor shifts in the corner. Arms and legs crossed, lounging comfortably against the wall.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I eye him.

  “A while.” He isn’t amused.

  I couldn’t care less if he is or isn’t. He could stand there for eternity for all I give a shit.

  “Maybe drop a note next time you feel like blowing back into town. I’ll make sure to take a vacation so you don’t have to bother visiting me.”

  Not a muscle on his body twitches in response to my scathing reply.

  I don’t affect him at all. In hindsight, I realize I never did. “What do you want, Tage?” I get right to the point. Sleep is calling to me, and I’m in no mood to entertain him. I’m in no mood to entertain anyone.

  “I need to check up on you. It’s my job.”

  “Checking up on me hasn't been your job in a very long time.” I’m twenty-four, for Christ’s sake. I’ve been surviving on my own without him for long enough.

  “Checking up on you will always be my job.” Tage pushes off the wall and strides toward me. My bedroom is small, so it only takes him three large steps to settle beside me. Too close. I inhale a collective breath as indiscreetly as I can. I don’t want him to know he still affects me. That some days I still ache for him so badly it brings tears to my eyes. He broke my fucking heart and left me holding all the shattered pieces. There are still scars on my palm and a hole in my chest from the wreckage.

  “Maybe it’s time you take up a new career.” I cross my arms and stand strong. He will not topple me. He will not see.

  “Never.” Tage tickles the bow dangling against my arm. My skin erupts into goosebumps, and I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from screaming at him.

  I hate you.

  I love you.

  I wish I had never met you.

  “You look . . .” The sentence hangs in the atmosphere.

  “Perfectly fine without you…?” I take the liberty of finishing for him.

  “…breathtaking.” He invokes his own liberties and corrects me.

  The single word stabs me square in the heart.

  I don’t respond. I can’t bring myself to even utter a small thank you.

  I stare straight ahead, counting the divots in my comforter. It’s the only thing that can keep my mind occupied. The only thing that can block him out. Why is he doing this? Why now? Why at all? Why couldn’t he just walk away and stay away? Every time I see him, the half-healed wound gets ripped wide open, and all the suppressed feelings — the devastation, the heartache, the pain — shoots right back up to the surface.

  Please leave and never come back.

  I silently wish it but don’t have the balls to say it.

  Just let me move on.

  I steal one last look at Tage. His golden-blond hair is a long wavy mess on the top of his head, there are bags under his gorgeous, hazel eyes, and his T-shirt is dirty. It makes me wonder what he’s been up to. I never know. I never know where he goes or what he does when he disappears
for months at a time, and I never know when he’s going to reappear again.

  He’s a mystery. He always has been, since the moment we met. But regardless of the time that’s passed, he still bewitches me as much now as he did back then.

  “Are we done here?” I clear my throat, feeling very exposed from the way he’s ingesting me with his eyes.

  Don’t look at me like that. You lost that right. A long time ago.

  “For now.” His fingertip brushes against my sensitive skin for a fraction of a second, and the world heats up. It’s suddenly the tropics in my tiny city apartment, warm and humid and on the brink of a hurricane.

  5

  Tage

  Everly fucking hates me.

  Hate? No, that word isn’t fractionally strong enough. Loathes, despises, detests would describe her feelings much more accurately. She has every right to feel the way she does. What I did to her was wrong. I made a promise, and although I kept it on a certain level, it came nowhere near to the expectation she had. Not even close.

  And I pay a hefty price for that deception every damn day.

  Every damn time I look into those broken green eyes. I did that. But it was for her own good. At least, that’s what I told myself all those years ago. She’s better off without me. It’s what I’ve continually told myself until this very day, until this very minute, but even as I try to convince myself now, I’m second-guessing my decision. Maybe even regretting it.

  Everly Paige has turned into the woman I saw inside her eight long years ago. When I seduced an innocent teenager, who beguiled me before I even realized it. She beguiles me just as much now as an adult. Maybe even more so.

  I’ve fought my feelings for so long, and for what? What was I protecting her from back then? Me? The world? Her past? The truth? What am I protecting her from now?

  I thought she could have a better life without me, but was that selfless decision made in vain? Was it really selfless at all? Was it more selfish? Was my career more important than the girl I loved? Is it still now? Have I bettered myself over the last eight years or just matured into the dickhead I was always destined to be? I wanted more for Everly.