Take (Need #2)

by K. I. Lynn

  I can’t take my eyes off Brayden, even as he starts the car and speeds off . . .

  “Kira?”

  “Huh?” I shake my head, trying to focus on Austin.

  My eyes are still locked on the road, even though Brayden turned the corner and is long gone.

  “Kira, babe, you wanna go inside and relax for a bit?” Austin’s hand lands on my arm.

  I can’t stop thinking about the look on Brayden’s face.

  Can’t stop thinking about him, period.

  He left. He actually left because I asked him to.

  So why do I feel so wrong about it?

  “What the fuck do you mean you left her with Austin?”

  I don’t pull the phone away from my ear, even though Ryan’s yell is loud enough to pierce my eardrum. Sitting on the loveseat in the hotel room, I stare blankly at the wall, holding my phone with one hand, a bottle of Lagavulin in the other.

  There’s another two bottles waiting at my feet. Just in case. I threw down more than three hundred dollars on all three bottles, but considering how this specific type of scotch always lays me out on my ass, I consider it money well spent.

  Tipping the bottle, I take another swig. “I had no choice, Ryan.” Shit. I sound as defeated as I feel.

  As drunk as I’m starting to get, too.

  “What the hell do you mean you had no choice?” Ryan yells. There’s a soft feminine voice in the background, soothing him, telling him to relax.

  He’s with Dana. Sure, I dropped him off at her place, but it’s still a new concept—Ryan with a girlfriend.

  I’m here, in this hotel room, with nothing but this rage and agony pulsing through me.

  I’m happy for him—he finally got his girl. I really am. Still hurts, though.

  He didn’t hurt her as much as I’ve hurt Kira.

  Is she busy trying to forget me? Trying to hurt me some more? Is she allowing Austin to do every single goddamned thing I’d kill to do to her?

  Another swig.

  “Answer me, Brayden.”

  “She asked me to,” I whisper, and another gulp burns its way down my throat. My stomach turns, almost rejecting it. I’m drinking too much, too fast.

  Let me get sick. Don’t care. It sure as shit can’t feel worse than I feel right now.

  “And that’s enough of a reason for you to just leave him there?”

  “She has so many reasons to hate me already . . . she looked so sad. There were tears in her eyes. She asked me not to ruin her birthday any more.” I hear myself uttering the words as if from afar, lost in the twisting labyrinth of misery in my head.

  I’m so fucked up over this girl. I shouldn’t be. I should have never allowed any woman to have this much power over me.

  Hah! Allow. As if I ever truly had a choice.

  Ryan is silent and I hear Dana speaking to him in the background. From the little bits I manage to pick up, I can tell she’s now fully in on what’s going on. That she’s giving him advice.

  Sounds like she’s telling him to side with me, to understand. That I have a point.

  If I wasn’t so utterly morbid right now, I might be able to smile at that.

  Ryan sighs. “I don’t like him near her.”

  I throw my head back and laugh bitterly at that statement. There’s no need for me to even tell him what that laugh means; he knows.

  “Shit. My bad, bro. I keep forgetting this is probably harder for you than me.”

  The bottle is raised to my lips again. I’m halfway through it by now, can feel the alcohol starting to hit. The numbing buzz taking over.

  It’s not anesthesia. Nowhere near close. Nothing short of that will dull the pain I’m starting to realize.

  “Maybe I should just head over to the party,” he says.

  “She’ll end up hating you, too.” It’s true. We’ve both gone about this the wrong way, no matter how entitled we are. Kira is a woman, with her own free will. With her own right to decide what’s best for her—what’s going to help her forget the pain I caused her. Help her be happy again.

  Us getting in the way of that only hurts her more.

  But, fuck, I just wish to high hell it wouldn’t have been Austin.

  “So what the hell are you going to do?”

  “I have no fucking clue,” I grit out.

  “Are you giving up?”

  I stare down at the hazel eyes of the kitty tattoo on my wrist. “I think she wants me to.”

  “Can you?”

  The answer to that is easy. “I don’t think so.” But that’s not where it ends. Suddenly, it’s all bursting out of me, like a flood, unstoppable. Destructive. “What does it matter, though? I gave her every reason to hate me—”

  “She doesn’t hate you, Brayden.”

  I laugh again at his statement. “You didn’t see her eyes tonight. She does. And I don’t blame her. I never will. I can’t force her to believe that I love her. Won’t matter if she does if she can never forget everything I did to her. I’d hate me, too, if I were her.”

  His frustrated exhale comes over the phone. “Even if she does hate you, you do know what that means, right?”

  I fall silent at his question, confused.

  “It means she still loves you. You can’t hate something you don’t care about. Think of your dad.”

  That is the very last person I want to think about right now. That wound needs to remain tightly sealed, thank you very much. I’m already bleeding internally over Kira. I don’t need to add whatever sick emotions my father has caused into the mix.

  “I know it’s hard to think about it right now—”

  “Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

  “Somebody has to, because it sounds to me like you’re letting yourself get caught up in the pain and you’re not thinking clearly.”

  “What the hell do you want me to say?” I shift in the seat, too worked up, too raw to take this. He’s adding to my frustration, poking at an already irritated weakness, and I don’t know how long I can hold out without snapping at him. “Your sister told me it’s over. Done. She told me there’s no hope, pretty much let me know that no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to fix it. Then she told me to leave and that she wanted Austin there instead of me!” The last part leaves me on a roar, and the still half-full bottle goes flying out of my hand, shattering against the wall.

  Immediately, I’m reaching for one of the others at my feet, ready to open it—

  “Brayden, are you drinking?”

  Sighing, I leave the bottle on the ground.

  “Stop for a second and hear me out.”

  “Your girl’s not with another man, doing God knows what with him,” I murmur angrily, my fingers twitching listlessly. I need something in them—a bottle back in my hand.

  No, what I actually need is Kira, her soft skin beneath my fingertips, her pretty eyes staring up at me like they once used to. Like she adored and admired me.

  Like she couldn’t imagine a life without me.

  “Not right now, no, but it did happen.”

  I snap to attention at Ryan’s comment. “What?”

  “What do you think got my ass in gear? She got sick of waiting for me, started moving on with her life.”

  Man, I realize, there’s really so much about what went down between him and Dana that I’ve been clueless about. That he hasn’t told me. In the back of my head, I wonder why he never did, but I also can’t fault him for it. It’s not like I’d given him a front-row seat to what happened between me and his sister.

  Yeah, partially because she is his sister, but it was also too weird to give him the 4-1-1 on how messed up a girl had me.

  “How did you deal with it?” It’s not like I’d seen him stumbling all over the place, drunk off his ass like I’m getting now.

  Wait. I had seen him like that. But we’d been partying together.

  “Exactly as you’re dealing with it now,” he tells me, confirming my suspicions.

  Suddenly, I feel
like an even bigger piece of shit as I realize what a “great” friend I’ve been.

  I wasn’t there for him. Okay, I didn’t know, but I could have paid more attention, maybe seen some signs that would have helped me know he wasn’t doing so well.

  “But Dana forgave you.”

  “Eventually.”

  “Didn’t take too long from my point of view.”

  “I also didn’t fuck up nearly half as long or half as bad as you have, you stubborn fuck.”

  I sink lower on the loveseat. The self-hate is a hurricane rolling in my chest. Deadly. Growing deadlier by the second.

  In desperate need of an outlet.

  Trapped.

  “Like I told you. It’s hopeless—”

  “You’re really starting to convince me that you’re ready to give up on her.”

  I do the smart thing and shut the fuck up.

  “Hear me out before I also decide that it’s time for you to give up.”

  Lips pressed together, I remain quiet, my hand itching to reach for one of the bottles.

  “How far are you willing to go to get her back?”

  “It’s not a question of how far. It’s a question of if she’ll ever—”

  He interrupts me again. “How. Far?”

  “Anything.” The word leaves me as a whisper, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

  “So stop being a bitch about it and deal.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You don’t need to be getting drunk right now. You need to fucking sleep, formulate a plan. Convince yourself that it’s gonna keep hurting and keep freaking going.”

  This wise motherfucker, I swear to God. The stubborn side of me wants to contradict him, argue some more, but what’s the point? He’s right.

  Sighing, I get off the loveseat.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I’m on my way to get some water.”

  He’s silent for a few seconds. Then, “Good boy.”

  “Fuck you, dude.”

  Ryan laughs, and my lips twitch despite themselves.

  “I know you love her, bro. This right here is convincing me, although it was pretty obvious. Unfortunately, I’m not the one you hurt, and Kira is still more stubborn than I am no matter what she says. She may even be more stubborn than you.”

  “Hah. If only she heard you.”

  “It’s true.”

  I pour myself a glass and throw it back, refilling another right away. It’s going to take a shitload of water to start negating any possibility of a hangover tomorrow. I don’t feel that drunk, but I also know that there’s still more alcohol being processed in my system. Not all of it has hit me yet.

  On that note, I need to order some room service. Get some food in me.

  “What do you suggest I do?” I ask Ryan, because aside from being ready to go for tomorrow, I have no real plan.

  He pulls the phone away from his ear, and I hear him talking to Dana again. “Dana says she knows the sister of one of Kira’s friends.”

  I perk up like a goddamn dog at the sound of that, ears twitching and everything. An in? An honest, serious in? “Which one?”

  “Jenna. Dana is going to try to figure out their plans from now on, and I’ll be able to let you know.”

  Swear to God, I feel like fist-pumping the air.

  “Just keep taking those hits, Brayden. You’re not going to convince my sister any other way. And if she truly is with Austin—”

  “I’m fucking taking her from him,” I say, my resolve returning on a rush. Hell, yeah, I am. Ryan’s right. I let myself sink into the pain of it. Didn’t pay attention to the other signs.

  There really were tears in her eyes.

  She could barely bring herself to say she wanted him instead of me.

  She watched me the entire time as I pulled away from the house, even as he walked closer to her.

  There’s still something there, and I’ll be damned if I don’t keep pushing. Take advantage.

  “Can Dana try to find out what their plans are for tomorrow?”

  “She’s texting Jenna’s sister now.”

  It’s wrong on so many levels. Devious as fuck, too.

  Kira’s going to kill every single one of us if she ever finds out.

  “Tell your girl I said thanks, man. Seriously.”

  “She says you’re welcome but she’s really doing this so I don’t have to deal with your moody ass all the time.”

  I laugh at that. I haven’t had much time to get to know Dana, but she’s starting to seem real fucking cool. “You too. Thank you.”

  Ryan sighs. “I’m doing it for her as much as I’m doing it for you. And because if Austin somehow ends up as my brother-in-law in the future, I think I’m going to kill someone.”

  I almost hiss like a snake at that comment. A straight-up cobra. “Dude, what the fuck is it with you and marriage?” But I’m fixated on that comment. He’d kill someone? I’d torture and skin them alive if something like that were to happen.

  “Just stating the obvious.”

  “Does Dana know you’re this obsessed with marriage?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Ah, sweet payback. I laugh again, my chest feeling so freaking light it’s almost disgusting. Then again, that’s what makes him my best friend, isn’t it? The fuck has always been good at picking me up when I fall.

  “Dana got a reply. The girls are going shopping tomorrow at Kenwood.”

  She couldn’t get me an exact time without looking too suspicious, but fuck it. I’ll wait all day there if I have to. I thank them again and rush to get him off the phone. Almost tripping to the room’s phone, I pick up the receiver and order enough food to feed a dozen people.

  Gotta make sure I’m good to go bright and fucking early tomorrow.

  As I wait for the room service, I sit on the bed and pull up Facebook on my phone. I’m a glutton for punishment, I know, but this is more necessary to me than even the food.

  Kira’s status reads: Thank you so much to everyone that wished me a happy birthday and came over to rock it with me. Party was effing awesome! So done though. #DyingToSleep

  It’s only 1:30am. The party is over already? Did she end it? Kick everyone out?

  Is she alone, or is Austin with her?

  The thought is like venom flashing through my system. I close my eyes and push all of it to the back of my head.

  I’m not going to say it doesn’t matter if she’s with Austin or not, because it fucking does. It matters more than anything.

  It won’t be the end of us. She can be with him as much as she wants, as many times as she wants. The outcome of all this will still be the same.

  I’m going to fucking kill him for it.

  But not before I take her back.

  April 19th, 2015

  Challenge. A word with many definitions, most of them meaning the same thing. One of the main definitions? A task or situation that tests someone’s abilities. In other words: the kind of dare the human ego cannot refuse.

  That’s what I’ve become to Brayden. I’m convinced.

  But why? He can’t brag to anyone once he sleeps with me. Can’t go around town saying that he, too, got a piece of Kira. Unlike Austin, Brayden’s my stepbrother, so even if something were to happen between us—more than already has—who the hell would his ego show it off to?

  No one, that’s who. So why, damn it? Why won’t he leave me alone?

  “I hate you!”

  “And I fucking love you.”

  I slam my eyes closed and shake my head, as if doing so will actually dispel the memory of those words. I probably look like a crazy person standing here, in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, holding one of their huge black shopping bags, eyes shut and head shaking like I’m trying to invoke Jesus himself.

  Funny thing is, I am a crazy person. Absolutely one step away from a total breakdown. That’s how I feel after hearing those words from him.

  My heart twists vicious
ly inside my chest.

  I ignore it.

  Opening my eyes, I focus on the lacy cream and black bra in front of me.

  My phone buzzes in my back pocket.

  Eyes glued on the lingerie before me, I bring it out and unlock the screen. I read the text before I realize who it’s from.

  If you’re going to buy that, I must BEG you to let me see you in it.

  Son of a . . .

  I whirl around right as Brayden comes to a stop in front of me.

  He slips his hands into his pockets and gives me this wide, blissed-out smile. He stands there in his dark, low-slung jeans and dark blue T-shirt, the material stretched tight across his chest and shoulders.

  On his neck, there’s this dark purple bruise.

  A clear imprint of teeth.

  He’s not even trying to hide the mark I left on him.

  I hate him. “Why the hell are you smiling?”

  There’s only one iced coffee in my system. Maybe two hours of sleep.

  Austin tried to kiss me last night.

  What did I do in response?

  I turned my head and asked him to leave. After he spent almost half an hour hugging me, trying to cheer me up because this asshole over here ruined my birthday.

  So yeah, I’m cranky.

  And Brayden’s still smiling at me like the mere sight of me makes him ecstatic.

  He doesn’t answer my question.

  I raise my eyebrows and shake my head in a “well?” gesture.

  Brayden steps up to me. He tucks my hair behind my ear and leans down to kiss my cheek. “Hey, baby.”

  Gah!

  My toes curl inside my flats.

  Fucking traitors.

  I reach behind me for the bra I’d been staring at, fling it in his face, and walk away. Because I’m the queen of maturity today.

  My heart races the whole time.

  I don’t expect a bra to the face to deter him, so when he catches up to me, all I do is roll my eyes and make a sharp left.

  Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll eventually go off and find another girl to flirt with.

  Somewhere beyond my bitterness and cynicism, I know he’s not going to do that, and the thought alone is enough to give me pause.

  He catches up to me and throws the bra into my shopping bag.