by Anne Connor
Following him into the dark would be a risk. I don’t know if I can take that risk. But I feel that energy bubbling up from the edges of something deep inside me.
I quickly pull my shorts off and pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie lying on the corner of my bed. Grabbing my purse, I give a quick look behind me as I leave my room and flick the light off. I could stay here forever and be safe, and not follow him. I could let all of my questions go unanswered, and it wouldn’t matter if I ever found out the truth.
Exhaling shakily, I make my way downstairs. I check to see if Mom and Dad are home, but they aren’t. I don’t know where they run off to so much these days, but I’m glad they aren’t home. I don’t like lying, and I’d tell them I was going to Sarah’s house if they asked where I was going. In fact, I’d probably just volunteer that information without them even asking.
It would be for me, though. The lie would be to protect myself.
Because even though he’s back, I still don’t know if I can do this.
I needed him a year ago. I needed to know the truth then.
But I can’t risk not knowing. I can’t risk not learning the truth.
I can’t risk letting him walk away from me again.
Travis
Her hand still fits into mine so perfectly. She’s my pretty little flower, but she’s too good for me. I feel like I could break her, and that fucking hurts me. I can’t let that happen. I have to prove to her that she’s doing the right thing being here with me.
The right thing…
Those words feel like a joke. Have I ever done the right thing? Everything is such a fucking mess, and the more time I spend with her, the more kisses I give her and the more I apologize and try to show her that I need her, the more I feel myself breaking apart.
After seeing Alec and the baby, things crystallized for me. I began to realize that I’d done the right thing, and I’d done the wrong thing. There was no easy choice. There was no right choice. There was no correct answer, and there was no way I would ever be able to right the wrongs that I’ve committed.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Daisy asks. Her hand squeezes mine slightly. She’s careful not to hold onto me too hard. She wants to keep her distance, even though I have her hand in mine. She still wants to keep herself removed.
I don’t blame her. I’d do the same thing.
I’ve done the same thing. I’ve kept my distance from the ones who have wronged me.
I’ve kept my distance from myself.
“It’s okay,” I say, moving her gently in front of me as we make our way carefully over the rough ground. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The rock quarry is about a quarter mile from the main road. The path is unmarked, but I know my way along the terrain. A path has been beaten from the main road to the clearing inside the forest from years of kids making their way out here for whatever the hell it is they want to do.
Today, it’s filled with water. It’s like a man-made beach, except the shore is made of hard rocks and stone instead of grains of pure white sand.
Our footing becomes unsure as we gradually make our way from the dirt and moss that cover most of the ground near the road, to the rocks that pave our way as we approach the clearing of the quarry. I put one hand on her waist to guide her, my other one cutting a path of light in front of her from the flashlight I brought with me. The moon isn’t enough tonight. She needs me tonight, too.
Her feet slide a little on a stone that’s wet with dewy moss, but I hold onto her tightly, but still gently. I don’t let her fall.
“Sorry,” she sighs as she regains her footing. “It’s a little bit slippery.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Not too much farther now.”
We finally get to the clearing, where the moonlight ricochets off the water and makes everything white and pure. She turns around to me and sits down on the edge of a rock. My swollen heart pains when I see that she isn’t smiling.
“This is so nice,” she says, forcing the corners of her mouth up. “It’s really pretty.”
She turns her face away from me, her long brown hair cascading down her back, pooling up inside the hood of her sweatshirt. She looks vulnerable, almost afraid...almost. But there’s a strength inside her that I’ve always admired. There’s something in her that’s not going to allow her to get hurt again.
It doesn’t matter, though. She doesn’t have to be strong. Not around me. She can let down her defences because I will not hurt her again.
“It is pretty out here.” I sit down on a rock next to her. The night is cool and damp, the smell of the forest mixing with the water makes my heart swell with nostalgia.
There’s a reason she’s never been out here before. I know she’s never been out here. I don’t even have to ask. The nostalgia I feel makes me feel ashamed. It’s the memory of the past, all the good times that gave me so much pleasure and let me escape from all the shit that was going on at home, but it’s the memory of the things I’ve done wrong, too.
“There used to be a tire swing out here,” I say. “It was attached with a rope to a branch on one of these trees.”
I look up, searching for the tree the rope used to hang from, but I can’t find it. It looks like the branches over the water have been cut down. They probably did it so kids would be deterred from coming out here. The tire swing was one of the best parts about the quarry. I’d climbed up on there so many times, and I felt my body become free as I swung over the water. Even though my mind was tethered to the ground, my body felt free. And that gave a little bit of relief, if only for a minute.
“I can’t imagine that being safe,” Daisy says, pulling her hoodie around her tighter.
She’s right. It wasn’t safe. It was an absolute hazard. Maybe that’s why I loved being out here so much.
“I know,” I say, teasing her.
“That’s probably why Dad told me to never come out here,” she says, flashing a small smile at me over her shoulder. “Not that I even knew how to get here if I wanted.”
“You mean none of the bad boys ever tried to corrupt you?” I smile, knocking against her shoulder with mine. I want to elicit a laugh, but she looks down at her hands and shakes her head.
“No,” she says in a small, hushed voice. “None of the bad boys ever tried to corrupt me.”
Seeing her like this is like poison to my soul.
I take her hand in mine and she softens, just slightly. She’s still guarded.
“Talk to me, Daisy,” I say. I put my lips on her cheek, and I feel her touch warm up to mine. “Tell me what’s going on inside your head.”
She turns her face slightly to mine, and the moon glows inside her irises. She’s everything, she’s all around me. But still, she doesn’t speak.
She just closes her eyes as I bend forward toward her. She allows her lips to brush against mine. She’s barely there, but I can feel her softness against me. She says nothing, but she’s communicating everything to me right now. I press my mouth against hers harder, taking her lips with mine. She tastes the same as she did a year go, and eight years ago when I first touched her.
She was my first and my only; I know what her father told her, though. I knew from the way he looked at me. I knew he thought I was bad.
He was right. But I wasn’t bad like that. I would never put my lips or my cock near another woman. Not since her. Not since I had my Daisy.
I’m lost in her kiss, but still, I can feel her tears running down her cheeks and staining my lips. I can taste them. The hot, salty tears run down and stain her face.
“No,” I say, pulling my mouth away from her, taking her face in my hands. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Seeing her cry isn’t making me any less hard. I’m still as hard as a fucking rock for her, even when I see her in pain. Being with her won’t be easy. I see that. I understand that now. I don’t know if I ever understood that before, because I didn’t want to. But now, I understand that I won’t be able to take her
pain away quickly and easily. But I’m not going to stop trying.
“I don’t know,” she says. I haven’t asked her anything. But I know she’s answering a question that’s remained unsaid.
“You want to know, don’t you?” I slip my thumbs under her eyes, brushing her tears away. “You want to know what happened, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she cries out softly. “I need to know.” She looks up at me, her blue eyes shining. “Did you do what you confessed to?”
I swallow hard, the guilt from what I put her through swelling on the inside of my chest. It fills me.
“No,” I say roughly. “I didn’t do it.”
Daisy pulls away from me and crosses her arms across her chest roughly. I don’t know if she’s repulsed by me or just trying to comfort herself. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.
“Let me tell you what happened,” I plead. I don’t know if it’s going to be any use. But damn it, I won’t stop trying to explain. I’m ready now. I can’t hold back any longer.
I can’t. Not if it means losing her again.
Her head hangs down, her long, white neck exposed to the cool night air. Her pure skin tempts me. I want to reach out and touch her, comfort her, make her feel good and moan my name as she cums. She doesn’t belong here. Not like this. We should be here under better circumstances. We should be here together, happy, not like this. We aren’t even together. I don’t know what the fuck it is we’re doing right now.
Her body tenses up and she looks over to me.
“You didn’t commit the robbery?”
“No,” I say plainly, defeated. “I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m not guilty. It doesn’t mean I deserve you.”
“God, Travis,” she says, laughing through her tears. “I don’t even know what that means anymore. So tell me. Tell me, please.”
My body tenses up as I rise to my feet. Clouds are starting to gather in the sky, blotting out the light from the moon. The water isn’t lit up anymore. Everything’s starting to go dark. I didn’t even realize it as it was happening.
I should send myself plummeting down into the rocks below. I should let them break my body. I should rid her of me once and for all.
But I look down at her, at her pleading eyes. She hasn’t given up on me. She hasn’t. She could have, so many times.
“I did it for Alec,” I breathe. It’s a confession. But it’s a perverse confession. It’s twisted and wrong, because I’m finally coming clean about a sin I didn’t commit. I’m finally clearing the air and clearing my own name. And I don’t care if she’s the only one who knows the truth. She deserves it. She needs to know.
“But…” She shakes her head back and forth quickly, trying to make sense of what I’ve told her. “What? What the hell?”
“Alec committed the robbery. I was with him, though.” My words bring me back to that night. The headlights flashing and cutting off, the beams of light from the streetlamps, the way I pulled my ride against the curb and made it so we wouldn’t be seen.
Adrenaline courses through my veins and I feel my jaw clench and go hard, bringing me back to that night. “I didn’t do anything to stop him. I was complicit.”
Daisy flies to her feet and stands in front of me, her shoulders tensed. But there are no tears coming from her eyes anymore. Now all I see between us is red. It’s anger.
“You were thinking of what was best for him?” she hisses. “You were thinking of what he had to lose?”
I try to put my hands on her shoulders, but she shrugs them away.
“Did you think about me for even a second?” Her voice comes out so calmly. She sounds so rational. She doesn’t sound angry at all. And that fucking terrifies me.
“Of course I thought of you,” I respond slowly. “I thought of all the bad things I’ve done in my life and how I’d never be worthy of you. Ever.”
“Then why the hell did you propose to me, Travis? Why? Why?” She throws her fists against my chest and pounds against me. I can feel her anger. Her rage. I did this to her.
I did this to myself.
This is my fault.
I take her wrists in my hands and pull her close to me. She can’t strike me. She can’t move. I feel her energy wane as she looks up at me and softens in my hands.
“Why?” she glowers.
“Because I love you. Because I want you.”
“How did you think leaving me and going to prison for a year would show that to me?” She blinks as the clouds in the sky drift past the moon, illuminating us again, casting a cool white light over everything.
My heart thrums in my chest as I consider her question. She’s looking at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I fucking am.
“I thought I had to pay for what I did. Make up for it.”
“Travis, you’re a good man. I don’t know what my father said to you or made you believe, but I love you for who you are.”
“It’s not his fault. Don’t blame him. It’s my fault. It’s my fault, and mine alone.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I break free from her and thrust my hands down at my sides.
“My parents. I should have done more for my mom. I should never have let my father hurt her.”
I’ve never talked about this to anyone. Ever. I’ve kept this so fucking bottled up, and it was liable to explode at any moment. I thought I’d squashed it when I went away. I thought I’d finally put an end to it. But I didn’t. Pushing it down only make the poison more potent. It only made the sickness inside me swell, and now it’s spilling over. Contaminating me. Fucking me up.
“Travis.” Daisy’s voice is gentle and small. She’s trying to comfort me. She’s trying to take away my pain. Her hand comes down on my hand, and she slips her fingers through mine. “There was nothing you could have done. You were, what, fifteen when your dad left?”
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “Fifteen.”
“You were just a kid. It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice aches for me. Her words ache for what I’ve done, for the mistakes I’ve made.
I feel myself grow hard on the inside. I’ve tried to tell her about this before. I’ve tried to talk to Alec about it, fuck, even my own mom. But now there’s one less person for me to talk to about it. Two, if you count Alec, because even though he’s my friend, I can never talk about this with him. Not now. Not since I took the fall for him. The scales between us are even now, and confiding in him about this will only put a burden on his shoulders.
That’s why I never wanted to tell Daisy about this. I thought I could deal with it on my own. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. I don’t need her feeling my grief.
But I’ve caused her grief through my actions.
I’ve really fucked this up.
“I felt like it was my fault.” I breathe heavily in the night air. “I felt like I could have done something to stop him. You know, the night he left, he said that I was the man of the house now, and to take good care of Mom. And that fucking tore through me. Because he treated her like shit, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. It was like that fucker was mocking me. He was trying to get inside my fucking head. And I played that shit over and over in my head. I never stopped.”
I close my eyes and feel Daisy sit down on the rock next to me. Her soothing touch on my back makes me breathe a little easier. It’s only a little bit, but it matters. Every little second with her, even touch, every glance, it fucking means something.
“You did everything you could,” she says. Her fingers curl up and she presses her nails along my back. “You did everything for her.”
“I didn’t, though,” I say. “I couldn’t always be there for her. When the cancer took her, I wasn’t there. I was out. I was working.”
“You were doing the right thing,” Daisy says. “You had to work. You had to keep the house. It was for her.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
I feel my words rumble through me.
“Som
etimes everything you do isn’t enough,” she reassures me, “and that’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I say, my voice heating. “I thought going away would make me fucking worthy enough for you. If your father thinks I’m some piece of shit, then I did my time, I did my penance. Is that enough for him?”
Daisy sighs deeply, her breath coming out in raggedly.
“Travis, you didn’t have to do that. I never judged you. I took the ring you gave me. I loved you too.”
“Loved me?” I ask. I turn to her and her lips pull up at the corners. This time, the smile reaches her eyes.
“I did love you, yes,” she replies. “I still do. There’s a reason I didn’t give you the ring back before you left.”
“Then why did you give it back to me when I got out?”
She lets out a small laugh and looks up at me.
Her bright blue eyes are like gemstones. But the pain is still there.
“I was angry. I was confused. While you were in there, I went over that night a million times in my head. I started to question my own memory, my own idea of what happened. I thought I could save you, and I started to blame myself for not standing up for you. I should have gone to my father and told him you were covering for someone. I should have told him you were incapable of what you said you did.”
“Baby.” I pull her close to me and put my arms around her, her tear-stained cheek pressing against my shoulder. Kissing her hair, I pull her onto my lap. Her body falls against me and I cradle her and rock her. “I wasn’t ready before. Now I am.”
I move her hips and put her down on my lap, straddling me. Her body heats against mine and our lips crush together in an explosive kiss that ignites me from the inside. My cock steels inside my pants and I feel her grind against me, her body begging me to give it to her.
“I’m ready too,” she breathes. “I’m ready for everything. For anything. Just...just don’t hurt me again.”
My heart clenches as I struggle for a moment. Can I swear to her that I’ll never hurt her again? Can I swear to her that I’ll always be the man she can lean on? Rely on? Trust to be there forever?
