by Lucy Smoke
“Your turn,” she says.
I shake my head. “Not happening, Lovely.”
“Why not?”
Is she fucking pouting? Goddamn that pout. It’s fucking hot. “It’s cold!” I yell.
“So?” she asks.
I narrow my gaze at her before shaking my head again. “You’re crazy.”
She moves toward the waterfall again, rain sliding out of her hair as it falls over us. It drips onto the wet pavement as she looks at me expectantly. “Jump,” she says this time. “I’ll catch you.”
The thing is…I believe her. But she won’t be doing so tonight. I step up on the other side of the waterfall. “I don’t need you to catch me, Lovely.” I need her to just…accept me. I’ll do anything just to see her take me – mind and body. God knows I want hers.
11
Love
I know I'm not thinking clearly. The rain hits my skin, slapping against my arm as we pull into a parking lot I don't recognize. I get out, my eyes scanning the vicinity. Though my vision is a bit blurry, the minuscule lighting in the garden reflects the odd and fantastical statues I see there. I step forward, wandering, not sure if I'm weaving – and not caring either.
Tax steps up next to me and as our fingers intertwine, I look over. His hand feels too warm, almost burning against my skin. I'm not sure who reached for who first, but it feels right – too right maybe, but it’s mine for now. I focus my attention on the garden of statues again, one in particular.
It's simple. Two red brick columns and a gray slab of concrete over top. But from that concrete, a steady flow of water comes down and splashes into a shallow pool between the columns. The rain falls faster. Running down my neck and face. I know my makeup is probably smeared. I don't know why Tax is still looking at me with that persistent curiosity of his. It doesn't make any logical sense.
I pull my fingers away from his. Dropping that warmth in favor of stepping toward the waterfall. I look up at the rain for a moment. I wonder if the waterfall is warmer. Perhaps it’s because of the alcohol in my veins. Perhaps it’s my own insatiable curiosity – something similar, but also different from Tax's – but without thinking about it, without even stopping to consider how crazy it is, I run for it. I take a flying leap and jump through the waterfall.
It's colder than the rain. Ice cold. Frigid. Running into my shirt and jeans. Soaking my shoes too. When I land on the other side, dripping onto the grass faster than the rain that falls from the darkened clouds above, my lips twitch. How could I have thought the water would be warmer? It's just so ridiculous. Nature is always warmer than whatever humans can create. We’re the waterfall, nature is the rain.
Finally, I turn. My mouth hurts from how hard I'm smiling. Tax's eyes watch me. I tilt my head to the side. He makes me think wicked thoughts. I round the side of the columned waterfall and head back in his direction. I want to go again.
Tax’s predatory midnight eyes sink into my skin. A beacon, drawing me nearer. Before I can get too close, though, I turn again, dashing for the waterfall one more time. He’s so hot, like a fire. His scorching gaze heats me up until steam rises. I need to cool off. The waterfall does that.
When I come out on the other side for the second time, I have to stop and take a breath. I’m cold down to my bones, but I know one look over at him and all of my ice will vanish. I pant, my chest rising and falling. If I don’t look back then the cold won’t leave. That thought lasts for all of two seconds before I peek over my shoulder again. The flames return. I wonder, though, with all that dark fire of his, does he need to feel the waterfall too? I hold my hand out to him, enticing. "Your turn," I call across.
He shakes his head, dislodging the water collecting at the ends of his hair. "Not happening, Lovely!"
I frown, dropping my arm and then put both hands on my hips. "Why not?"
"It's cold!" So, he knew, I think.
I smile again. "So?" I challenge.
"You're crazy," he calls.
I step up to the waterfall again and look down into the shallow pool. I watch him through the steady flow of crystalline water. "Jump," I say, "I'll catch you."
Tax steps up to the other side. All dark leather pants and white see-through shirt. My mouth waters at the rigid muscles of his abdomen outlined by the slick fabric. How long has it been since I had sex? Since I had satisfying sex? Something tells me that sex with Tax would be more than satisfying. It would be more than any of the boys in high school, any of the friends Danny had sold me to, or even Danny himself.
"I don't need you to catch me, Lovely." Tax's voice is deeper, darker. Entrancing. There’s also a yearning there. I’m curious to know what he yearns for.
"Then jump anyway," I say.
"Why?"
I open my mouth, but I don't know why I want to see him jump. I just know that I do. I want to watch him come flying through the wall of water, crashing into my life. It would be fitting to see it physically happen since that's how I feel. Tax has just come crashing into my world, into my life, into my mind. Even when I should be thinking of anything else, he's there. Never, have I ever thought of someone so much.
"Lovely," he says, "why do you want me to jump?"
I shake my head, taking a step forward again until I'm on the very edge of the pool as I talk through to him. "It doesn't matter," I lie. "I just wanted to see if you would do it."
"Back up."
"What?"
"I said back up." He steps off the ledge, away from the waterfall. "If I come through, I don't want to hit you."
Stunned, I step off the ledge and back away. I watch his form, murky and unclear through the water. The rain – more of a misting drizzle now – is secondary to that waterfall. That waterfall is a barrier, one easy to jump through. Anyone else would have laughed at me, told me I was drunk and then walked around. But not Tax. He backs up several feet before turning to face me.
Even through the water, I can see his legs stretch out as he takes the running jump. The waterfall hits him, and I hear the quick gasp as he sucks in his breath. It splashes everywhere but I don’t feel it landing on me. I’m already soaked through completely and it was so cold, I don’t think I could possibly feel anything right now. That’s the way I like it…or at least, I used to.
“God fucking dammit, Love,” Tax hisses through his teeth. He’s bent over, his hands on his knees as he pants. I can’t help but smile when I look at him. His midnight gaze lifts and pierces me. Slowly, Tax stands to his full height and steps forward until his chest brushes against mine. “That was cold as hell,” he says, reaching up to tuck a wet strand of hair behind my ear. “But if I have to jump through a freezing hell to get to you, so be it.”
I’m so shocked by his words, my breath escapes me. I don’t even have a split second to respond before his lips crash down on mine like a tidal wave. The barrier in my mind cracks and everything rushes forward. My skin prickles in awareness, in feeling. I gasp against his mouth, my breath disappearing between his lips.
Rain slides down our faces into our mouths. The very best way to drown, and I’ve found it. It drips into our eyes so quickly that I have to close mine against it. But the fact that I can’t see Tax in front of me anymore, can’t see him kissing me just makes me feel more of him. His hands grip my waist, circling it, fingers digging into the cold, wet fabric of my shirt. I’ve never felt small, not in any capacity really. But with him, I feel dainty. I feel like with just a flick of his wrist, he could shatter me into a million pieces. He could kill me completely without even trying. A shiver chases up my spine as I lean into him. Tax’s hands rub up and down my sides until my shirt is bunched up just over the band of my jeans and his fingers meet bare skin. Electric sparks go off at the touch.
“Love…” His voice is a whisper – a gruff, coarse whisper that reaches my ears and gently nudges me back to reality.
I shake my head; my hands reach up for his face. I don’t want to go back to reality. I just want to stay here with him. “No
talking,” I urge. I just want to feel this without all of the bad things that come with it. When Tax kisses me, it doesn’t seem wrong. It doesn’t seem forced – like a costume I put on to play a part. Like a prop or a role. It feels real. The realest thing I’ve ever felt.
His lips press into mine, opening my mouth. When our tongues touch, I groan, my fingers pressing against the hard edge of his jaw, using it as leverage to anchor myself to this moment. Tax pulls away, and my eyes pop open, but it’s not to leave me. His hands move lower, gripping me under my thighs, and lifts me against his body. My legs open around his hips and then my feet meet and cross behind the small of his back as he moves me until my spine presses into cool metal.
I break off the kiss to look behind me. It’s some sort of strange, twisting, black metal wires woven together to make a cage like carriage with wheels. The waterfall makes trickling noises as Tax’s hot lips touch my neck, running up the column of my throat, distracting me. My eyes close again.
Tax opens his lips against my skin. Kissing gently, then sucking hard. I gasp as if the sucking sensation has a direct link to my pussy. It tugs on strings I didn’t even know existed, plays them like I’m his goddamn marionette. I would chop off my arms and legs and attach strings to my once useful limbs if only he wouldn’t stop touching me. My heart thunders in my ears, loud and uncompromising. The beating of it resounds in my chest, pounding loudly against the cage of my ribs.
I can’t. It’s too much. My eyes burn as my throat closes. Tax is still pressed against me completely. All that heat lighting me up like the safest of fires…but fire still burns.
Dropping my hands to his shoulders, I push. I can’t speak. Not yet. Not without…I sniff hard and press him away more firmly until he pulls back and looks at me. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head and drop my legs from his waist. Tax backs up with ease, letting me stand on my own. I turn away and take a few steps. My hands are trembling. “I want to go back,” I say after I’m sure I won’t choke up. “I want to go home.”
“Okay.” He sounds confused. “I can take you. No problem.”
I nod and, before he can say anything else or ask any questions, I start back to his Jeep. I swallow against the block in my throat and keep my eyelids peeled in an effort to dry out my eyes before he sees the redness around them. Hopefully, he’ll just mark it up to me being drunk.
Tax follows me to the Jeep at a much slower pace. Though I keep my gaze trained at the black pavement under my feet, I can feel his eyes on me. I don’t know how to tell him that it’s not him. That every problem I have is something I made.
Sliding one leg off the bed and then the other, my feet press against the dirty bedroom carpet. My skin feels itchy and tight. I look down and notice I'm naked. I wonder how long I've been naked. Danny stirs slightly as I stand. I glance back at him over my shoulder. His balding head is against one of the flatter pillows while the rest of his body is sprawled like a starfish. It's hard to understand how I even fit on the bed. He covers most of the mattress and his feet hang off the end.
I turn back toward the bedroom door and contemplate my options. Do I stay now? Do I go? I look down at the fresh bruises on my body. My shoulders are particularly bruised. I guess that's what happens when you have a man as large as Danny holding them down so hard. I guess a shower it is. Or a bath. I have to feel at least cleaner than the carpet under my feet. I head toward the bathroom and close the door to keep the sound of the running water muted. It's colder in the tiled room and, somehow, I feel even dirtier next to all of the white walls and floors.
I sit on the edge of the claw foot bathtub and reach over to turn the handles. Hot and cold water gushes from the spout and I stand up, sliding a foot inside to test the temperature. I step in with my other foot and then lean over to readjust the temperature to have more hot water than cold before I slide all the way in. On second thought...I reach forward and turn off the cold water completely. The hotter the better. The hotter the water is, the more likely it will clean me.
I lay back and close my eyes. The space between my thighs aches. I take stock of my entire body, and realize it all hurts. My back, my knees, my shoulders, my pussy, and my thighs. I feel like someone took a baseball bat to every bone, beat them until they broke, and they've only recently healed. My head floats, fuzzy. It isn't until I feel the steaming hot water lapping at my shoulders that I realize I've almost overdone it. I gently lean forward and shut the water off before lying back again.
My neck presses against the cold rim of the bathtub, and I slide further down. I open my eyes, but they droop anyway as I stare up at the ceiling. The ceiling is cracking and dirty – just like every other goddamn thing in my life. I sigh and sink into the water until my mouth is under the surface and the only oxygen being pulled into my lungs is coming from my nostrils. Water sloshes over the rim. I don't care. It's not my house. It doesn't even feel like my life.
The bathroom door opens and Danny stumbles in. He notices me and smiles at my naked form under the water before he turns and flips up the toilet lid and seat. He takes a piss and then shakes it quickly before moving over to me. He drops down on his knees and looks at me, his face amused.
"Looking good, girl," he says. I hate it when he calls me that. Because I am a girl. I'm too young for this, aren't I? I wish someone would realize that. I wish someone would just take a look at me and tell me that I needed to be doing chores or going out with friends. Be innocent. I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any innocence either.
Danny reaches into the surface of the water and more of it splashes out. Neither of us notice as he grips one of my tits and squeezes tight. That's where the bruises come from. He always grips me too hard. I don't move. I don't say anything. Neither does he. He just pants as he massages my breast as if it's a slab of meat. That's all I am, really. A slab of meat. I close my eyes as he reaches in with his other hand and grabs the other one. Then he's leaning forward and pulling my mouth above water by my tits, so he can kiss me. When he kisses me, he tastes like cigarettes and shitty beer. I keep my eyes closed. I don't move. I don't say yes, but I also don't say no.
That's the thing with Danny, I can't really say no. Because I deserve the way he makes me feel.
Disgusting.
Dirty.
I come awake with sweat dripping down my temple. Immediately I think it was the dream – the memory. But no, when I stand and move toward the bedroom door to go to the bathroom, I notice the entire room is sweltering. I reach up, above my door, and put my hand in front of the vent. No cool air comes out. I sigh, stepping out into the hall, shaking off the nightmare. It’s made that much worse, though, because it’s not really a nightmare. It’s a memory. The kind of memory that chases and haunts me every hour of the day because of the choices I made. It’s the very reason I built a switch inside; so that when they come in the dead of night, I won’t be so scared and shaken up.
I make my way to the thermometer and find it turned off. I press the power button and wait. Nothing. I press it again, this time holding down for thirty seconds. That always seems to do the trick with everything else. Still no go. I sigh and decide to mention it to the landlady after I get off work.
Beverly’s snores ricochet through the hallway. I stop and ease her door shut before continuing on. I get ready for work and grab a to-go mug of coffee on my way out, filled halfway with cream and sugar. As I pass Tax’s door on my way to the stairwell, my chest tightens. I keep going, rubbing absently at the space between my breasts as I hurry.
BookWorm isn’t open when I get there. I start around back and ring a bell next to the delivery door. It takes forever before my manager, Daniella, finally gets there to let me in. Her face is red and blotchy, with dark circles under her eyes as she opens the door. “Love, thank goodness you’re here,” she says immediately as the door closes behind us, “can you do me a huge favor?”
“Sure?” I say, curiously. She follows me as I go to put my bag away in my lo
cker and grab my bookseller apron.
“Brody’s mom had a stroke this morning. He and the family are at the hospital now.” Her hands clench and twist in her apron. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but none of the other managers this morning picked up. I can’t just…she’s been really good to us. She’s like my own mom, you know?”
I don’t know, but people get uncomfortable if you tell them that you have no clue what it’s like to have a normal family – a normal mother that loves and supports you. So, I nod my head and guess what she’s about to ask. “I can open the store by myself,” I say. “No worries.”
The relief on her face is immediate. “Thank you so much, Love. I really appreciate this.” She doesn’t waste any time handing over the keys and taking off her apron before grabbing her stuff. “Call me if you need anything or if you can’t figure something out. I’m only twenty-five minutes away.”
I wave her away. “Focus on your family,” I say. “I’ll be fine. Willow is coming in later.”
Daniella nods and retreats out the backdoor, and just like that I’m alone in BookWorm. Just as I release a sigh, my phone goes off. I pull it from my purse and drop it in my apron pocket. I’ll check it later when I’m done getting everything ready.
I hurry through the easy tasks of checking cash registers and unlocking the front doors. Customers don’t even start to trickle in until an hour past opening. My coworker, Willow, comes in early and for a Saturday morning, things go smoothly. It’s only when I take my break that I remember the message on my phone.
