Burn Me Anthology

by Shantel Tessier

  "Please," I sob, trying to push through the pain and regain my wits. If I want any chance of surviving, I need to get control of myself, and if possible, the situation. "I don't know what you're talking about. Really."

  "I don't like liars, Viv, especially fat little cows who don't know their place in the world." He opens the door and pulls me outside. I spot his car parked on the street and try to pull away, but he yanks harder. "But that's okay, because you'll know your place after tonight."

  I can't let him get to his car, because if he does, I know I'll never see the light of day again. When I throw my body down like dead weight, he falters in his step. He turns, eyes wide with disbelief, and stares down at me.

  "Get up!" he yells, but I don't move. He can pull and tug my hair all he wants, but I refuse to move from my spot on the ground. He pulls his foot back and swings it forward, kicking me in the side. It isn't too hard, but it gives me a small taste of what's in store for me next, because he doesn't like that I'm refusing to move. "Get the fuck up, lazy cow."

  I turn my head and spit on him. "Fuck you!"

  "You disgusting whore. You're going to regret doing that." He pulls his leg back again, this time swinging it forward harder. When it connects, it knocks the air from my lungs, leaving me breathless. He kicks me again. And again. But I don't move.

  "I'd rather you killed me right here, right now, than move another inch," I choke the words out before he lands another blow. He lets go of my hair, but only because he knows I'm in no shape to run. Even if I could get up, he'd likely knock me back down.

  I close my eyes, surrendering myself to fate. If I die tonight, at least I was able to experience what real love is.

  Love?

  No, that's not what I meant.

  I don't love Wade.

  Do I?

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh pulls me out of my thoughts, and I brace myself for another onslaught of pain. Only it never comes.

  Cracking an eye open, I don't see Jeffery. A flash of movement to my left catches my eye, and I see Wade sitting on top of an unmoving Jeffery, pounding away at his face.

  "Wade!" I shout trying to stop him, but he doesn't hear me. It's almost like he's in another world. The rage in his face is frightening. "Stop, Wade, stop! You're going to kill him!"

  I roll, grimacing from the pain in my ribs. I'm pretty sure nothing's broken, but I will be feeling the effects of Jeffery's attack for the next few weeks. Somehow, I make my way to my feet and find myself hovering over Wade. I reach out to touch his shoulder, freezing him mid-swing. His steel-colored eyes seek mine, filling with relief the moment her realizes it's me.

  He lifts his body off the unconscious man who was about to kill me and tucks me into his side. Wade's knuckles and shirt are a bloody mess, but I don't care. I'm just happy to see him.

  The sound of sirens growing closer with each passing breath freezes my blood.

  "Is he dead?" I ask as I stare down at Jeffery. I nudge the man with my foot, and he groans in agony.

  "No, he isn't dead, but he's not going to be bothering you any time soon." Wade walks me back toward the door of the center just as the first police cruiser pulls into the parking lot.

  "When did you call the police?" I frown, searching my memory for some sign Jeffery and I weren't alone.

  "Right before I slammed him to the ground." He bends over and picks up his broken phone. "I just rounded the corner when I saw him kick you over and over. I don't remember calling, exactly. Everything happened pretty quickly." He watches the officer, waiting for him to recognize him. I see the moment he does; so does Wade. He moves toward the officer, but not before ordering me to stay put. "Wait right here."

  I listen, mostly because the struggle to breathe is real and I’m not too thrilled about having the shit kicked out of me.

  After a few moments, the ambulance pulls in and Wade directs them over to me. He says something to the officer, then jogs back to me.

  "How are you feeling?" he asks as the paramedic runs his hands over my ribs.

  "Like someone kicked the shit out of me," I hiss, rolling my eyes at his ridiculous question.

  "We need to get her to the hospital for a few X-rays," one paramedic says, his green eyes gentle on me. He's almost as tall as Wade, but not nearly as good looking. His strong jaw and dark hair give him a hard look, but the way he looks at me and touches me tells me he knows how to handle a woman. This one has player written all over his face.

  "Tristan, you keep eyeing my woman like that, and you'll be the one needing an X-ray," Wade growls, his steel eyes hard as stone on the man in front of me.

  "Didn't know she was already spoken for." Tristan smirks, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. "You sure you want to tie yourself to this fuddy-duddy? Let me take you out and show you how a real man does it."

  Wade takes a step toward him, but he's been in enough fights tonight. I can take care of myself, especially when it comes to egotistical assholes like Tristan. I hold up a hand, stopping him. Surprisingly enough, he listens.

  "I bet all the girls fall for that line." I smile, letting Tristan think I'm on the hook.

  "I'm off in a few hours. Give me your number, and I'll stop on by. Give you a more thorough examination." His eyes narrow on me, and I can hear the excitement in his voice.

  "Oh, honey, you couldn't handle me. Besides, you're nothing like a real man," I murmur, lowering my voice. "A real man doesn't hit on a lady, especially after her man warns him off. A real man doesn't need to whip out his dick to prove he's the better choice. A real man can handle a woman like me. You're just a little boy playing games, using his looks to fool a girl." I lean in, ready to finish him off entirely. "Now, step the fuck away before I let Wade follow through on his threat."

  Tristan opens his mouth to say something more, but when I cock an eyebrow, he shuts it. Packing up his bag in I'm sure what is record time, he averts his eyes and moves on to Jeffery.

  Wade sits down beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. His body quakes with a soft laugh. "Damn, babe, you think you could have left him with any dignity?"

  "I've been dealing with cocky assholes like him my whole life. Believe me when I tell you, he needed to hear that," I tell him with a smile. Tristan did need to hear my words; it'll probably do him some good. He needs to learn that he can't keep going through life like this, disrespecting women and himself.

  "Well, you'll never have to worry again, because I'm all man, baby, and I'm yours." He kisses me firmly, careful not to add pressure to my ribs. When he pulls away too soon, I whine a little. "There's more of that coming, I promise. But we need to get shit wrapped up here and get you checked out."

  I nod, realizing the scene around us has changed quickly in the last few minutes. The area is taped off and at least half a dozen police vehicles are parked around us. Tristan and his partner work on Jeffery, lifting him onto the gurney. I hear him groan from my spot across the way.

  "Wait, how did you know to come here?"

  "It got late, and I wanted to surprise you."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really." He kisses my head, and it takes everything in me not to think about what could've happened had he not wanted to surprise me. "Randy's going to need your statement before they let us go. If Monica is working the ER tonight, I'll ask her to wrap your ribs. She's the best with injuries like this."

  Monica? The thought of someone who's been with Wade coming anywhere near me makes my stomach sour.

  "Please, Wade, I know we live in a small town, but I really don't want to be checked out by your ex-girlfriend," I assure him, hating the green monster growing inside of me.

  "Babe, Monica’s my mother's best friend. She runs the nursing staff at the hospital," he chokes out, trying not to laugh. "I didn't live the life of a monk before I met you, but I don't have a lot of ex-girlfriends hanging around. I've never been the kind of man to hook up with a woman for the hell of it."

  "Okay," I murmur, thinking about the night at
the bar and when he told me about the pull he felt toward me. I knew right away it wasn't only on a physical level, because I felt it, too.

  Randy, the officer Wade spoke with earlier, approaches us. "Ms. Campbell, I need to ask you a few questions before I can let you leave. You can come down to the station tomorrow and make a formal statement."

  "Sure," I respond and begin answering his questions.

  Another officer approaches, this one carrying a box. I look between the two, Randy and the other officer, and bite my bottom lip. What is it with this town? Are all emergency services filled with hot guys?

  The three men around me burst into laughter, and I realize my tendency to speak my inner thoughts out loud has struck again.

  Fuck, I curse, blushing from head to toe. They ignore what I've said, though, turning the topic back to the scene at hand.

  "What you got there, JJ?" Wade asks, and the officer looks down at the box in his hands.

  "You're not going to believe this." When he tips the box toward us, I throw my hand over my mouth. Two hand guns, duct tape, and a roll of black trash bags are thrown in with a mountain of photos. Photos of me out in public, in the privacy of my bedroom, even one of Wade kissing me senseless two days ago at the bar. Photos of me, taken by someone from afar, someone watching me. Someone stalking me. Proof that Jeffery was never in his right mind.

  "Seems like you came along at the right time, Wade." Randy looks over at him, his voice filled with concern. "He had plans from the looks of it."

  "You're kidding me?" My stomach rolls. Jeffery was stalking me?

  "I'm afraid not." Randy shakes his head. "When he recovers, he's going away for a long time,"

  "I don't understand. I thought he hated me." Nothing is making sense to me. Jeffery never let on about any of this. I'm nothing like the floozies he brought into the gallery to impress.

  "He felt threatened by you," Wade offers, but it still doesn't make sense. Why would he be threatened by me? "You're about to receive a degree that trumps his own accomplishments, and it makes you more qualified to do his job."

  "But I don't want his job," I exclaim. Everything Wade says makes sense, but Jeffery didn't know what I’d planned on doing after graduation. If he’d ever bothered to ask, then he'd have known I wasn't a threat.

  "It doesn't matter. In his mind, you were the competition. After what you told us, the gallery owner must've reached him finally and sacked him. He came after you because, logically, you'd be the one to take his position."

  I shake my head and fight the pain in my side as I take a deep breath. Whether it makes sense or not logically, this all feels too fucked up to be real.

  Chapter 10

  Vivienne

  Thirty minutes later, we pull up to the emergency room, and Wade escorts me past the front desk and into the back. He's greeted by every person we pass. We stop at the desk in the middle of the large room, where he asks for Monica and an X-ray.

  Monica comes rushing out and escorts us to a private room. I don’t want Wade in the room with me, to see me like this, but he refuses to wait in the hall. Monica listens attentively during her initial examination. The bruises have already begun to form, so I avoid Wade’s face during the process.

  I pull on the hospital gown Monica hands me, and turn, letting Wade tie me off. The warmth of his fingers sends tingles up my spine. I’m glad now that he refused to leave, as the shock of what happened begins to wear off and the pain sets it. Thankfully, the doctor on call has already ordered something to help me relax.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Wade’s voice fills the quiet room we’ve been sitting in for the last twenty minutes. He’s anxious; not that I blame him. Jeffery’s down the hall, and even though he has a guard posted at the door and is unable to stand up right now, knowing he’s close isn’t doing either one of us any good.

  “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” I shake my head and pick at my nails. I know I’ll have to talk about it eventually, but now isn’t the time. Now is too soon. Now, I just want to get this part over with and stay in bed for a week.

  I call Tori while we wait for them to take my X-rays. She’s been in a love bubble with Jason and has all but disappeared. To say she’s shocked and worried is an understatement. It takes me a few minutes to assure her I’m all right. Wade is watching me the whole time, tense, and when I ask Tori if she can pick me up from the hospital, his jaw clenches and he takes the phone out of my hand. “I’ll be taking her home, Tori. To my house. Tell Jason to bring you by.” Then he hangs up and looks at me, daring me to challenge him, but I can’t. I like it when he goes into caveman mode.

  “Well, it looks like they can get you into X-ray sooner than we anticipated.” Monica walks into the room but stops suddenly, catching the look passing between Wade and me. “Your mother is going to shit bricks over this one.”

  Wade tears his gaze from me and turns to Monica. “She’s going to love Vivienne, don’t you think?”

  “She always said you’d fall hard.” The older woman looks at me and winks. I swallow hard. His mother? Shit. With everything going on and the newness of us, I hadn’t considered the world outside out little bubble yet. I have no doubt my family will love him, especially after I tell them about the way he came to my rescue, but I can’t help but worry what his will think of me. “And yes, I think she’s going to love her.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me be the one to tell her.” I feel my shoulders sag a little. Monica’s words give me a small feeling of relief.

  “Damn, I was hoping to rub it in her face that I got to meet her first.” She laughs.

  My X-rays come back clean, indicating Monica’s earlier assessment was correct. While bruised ribs are nothing to be proud of, it means my recovery time won’t take as long. Tomorrow morning is going to be a bitch, though. She wraps my ribs with strict instructions about how to care for them, but it’s Wade who struggles.

  It takes three nurses and two doctors to assure him I’m all right, that all I need is rest. In fact, I’ve called in sick at both jobs for the next week at his insistence. I planned on taking some time off anyway, but I’d do anything to put him a more at ease. It’s bad enough he’s about to head back to work for the next week; the guilt over not being there for me is eating at him already. Nothing I seem to say helps.

  I’m signing the last of the discharge papers when Randy and JJ stop in with more information about Jeffery. Beyond a broken nose, he is going to be fine physically. Legally, he’ll be facing some serious charges, and after I give my official statement, he won’t see the light of day for a long time.

  “You make sure Wade brings you by for dinner sometime.” Monica hands me a copy of the official paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers. “I make the best lasagna in three counties.”

  “I look forward to trying it.” I smile, feeling utter acceptance from the older woman. I reach out and hug her close. “Thank you for everything.”

  She hugs me back before laughing off her part in helping me. Then she pulls back and grows serious. “He’s worried about you, Vivienne. I know you’ve been through a lot tonight, but almost losing you scared the shit out of him. I’ve never seen him this way about anyone. Take it easy for both of your sakes.” She pauses before reaching out to take my hand. “He’s a good man, and he deserves a good woman. I’m glad you finally came into his life.”

  The drive home is surreal. Monica’s words replay in my head over and over. As happy as I am to be in his life, I’m over the moon to have him in mine. I know without a doubt that I’m the lucky one tonight.

  He is the reason I’m nursing only bruises and am still breathing.

  ***

  It's pretty late by the time Tori and Jason leave, but that doesn't keep Wade and me from talking long into the night.

  "I wish you didn't have to go in so early," I whisper into the dark room. Pressed to his side, I drape myself on his chest. The painkillers the ER doctor prescribed took effect
an hour ago.

  "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" he asks for the one hundredth time tonight. If I didn't find his concern so endearing, I would have gone crazy by now.

  "You're cute," I murmur, letting my hand wander down the length of his chest, over his rock-hard abs, stopping at the waistband of his boxer briefs. Wearing nothing but one of his shirts again, I've only been able to think about having him inside of me, reminding me I'm alive. But he's been dodging my hands and ignoring my not so subtle attempts at getting a response from him.

  "Hands off," he laughs, reaching down to move my hand, but I'm quicker. Slipping my hand into his briefs, I grasp his cock, happy to find it at attention.

  "Looks like someone's happy to see me," I giggle.

  "You need to rest," he states, wrapping his hand around my wrist, but I tighten my hold on him. He freezes.

  "After you make love to me," I murmur, stretching up to kiss his neck. Make love? Did I really say it like that? "Take these off."

  "I don't want to hurt you," he groans before releasing my wrist and pulling down his briefs, letting me work his cock.

  "We'll go slow." Lifting up, I carefully swing a leg over him and straddle him. "Let me do all the work."

  His hands reach for the hem of my shirt, but I don't stop him, even though I know he'll be angry I took the wrap off. I lift my arms, and he pulls it over my head. His breath hitches at the sight of my heavy breasts. His mouth finds one nipple, while his hands run along my back.

  "Baby, I'm on the pill," I whisper, feeling his hardness hit my clit. I'm breathless and growing more desperate with each passing second. I need him. The idea of stopping now to put on a condom feels impossible. I lift up and place the tip of his cock at my entrance.

  "I haven't been with anyone in six months, and I had my yearly physical for the station last month. I'm clean." He barely gets the last two words out before I impale myself on him, taking him all the way down to his pelvis. Our groans are simultaneous and loud. "Fucking perfect."