Pieces Of Us

by Pamela Ann

  For now, I had to see the snake that called himself my best man.

  After a quick call, I drove towards Ro’s place where everyone had apparently moved to hang out and possibly crash for the night. The drive was quick, about five minutes, and I hadn’t even found parking when I saw Jet walk towards the middle of the road and stand there, greeting my arrival.

  The sight of him made the green-eyed fucker come out and play. This bastard had his hands all over Olivia. How fucking dare he betray me!

  I cussed out as I forgot about looking for somewhere to park and pulled the emergency lights before coming out of the car, out for blood.

  “Welcome back, bro.”

  I spat on the ground as I clenched my fists, ready to give him blows. “The fuck it is, you backstabbing snake!” I flexed and cracked my fingers before I saw him smugly smile at me.

  He smirked as if he’d just found out a great secret. “Still gets you, don’t it?”

  “What the fuck?” I frowned.

  “Olivia, bro. Who else?”

  Smug son of a bitch. “Fuck you—she’s just a pussy to fuck.”

  His brow rose, skeptical, before he opened his arms wide, looking around where most of the people we went to school with were waiting for some action. “Why are you making a scene then, huh? If she’s just a fuck, you should share her around. We’re a crew—we share our leftovers.”

  Share Olivia? Over my dead body. Right then and there, the images of her face as Liam ate her cunt flashed before me… followed by Jet’s face… then Ro’s, then all these other random men as she screamed in pleasure.

  My heart was squeezing so tightly it was starting to hurt to breathe. Fuck. What was happening to me?

  I didn’t realize that Jet was coming towards me until my gaze focused again and he was right before me, giving me a concerned look. “Straighten up your shit, man,” he muttered. “If you’re not going to get her, someone else will. Then you’ll be shit of out luck.”

  When he came over and tapped my shoulder before he started moving away, I called him out again to finish the fight, but he kept on walking, yelling back, “Sort this shit out before you lose in your own game.”

  I’m not playing a game, I wanted to yell after him, however my mind was too troubled to comprehend anything. Jet liked mind fucks, and he certainly had a knack of messing with me where Olivia was concerned. Occasionally, I wondered if he truly was attracted to her or he was just baiting me without any real desire behind all the fuckery.

  Reluctantly, I jumped back in my car, feeling worse than before. I wanted to punch something, maybe even crash my car so I could feel the pain. I needed something real, like seeing a gush of blood or a massive cut that I could blame the pain on. Confusion made me antsy. I regretted leaving my apartment without that handy bag of blow to chill me out.

  I wasn’t sure where to go, so I restlessly drove around. Heading first to Malibu then Santa Monica, Sunset Boulevard then towards Westwood again. I drove around campus before I ended up right outside her apartment complex. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ever since she’d moved in, I would always randomly drive through here.

  Killing the engine, I stared at my dashboard, contemplating my next course of action. After how things had ended up earlier, I wasn’t sure how she’d respond to seeing me at the moment.

  I was being honest with her when I had said I hadn’t been planning on having sex with her—I truly hadn’t. But that tiny, little skirt had fucked with my mind, and after seeing how guys were finding her irresistible, my possessiveness had taken over. I remembered thinking it was my life’s mission, in that instant, to mark her as mine. I had made sure to leave kiss marks on her neck, to thrust as hard as I could while hammering into her so she’d throb for a few days, and lastly, coming into her tight walls had eased a little of the insane jealousy I had felt the moment I’d found her in Jet’s arms.

  For an hour, I sat in my car, eyes closed as I rested my head against the headrest, replaying her face over and over again in her bathroom. That face wasn’t the face of a woman who was innocent anymore. It was a face of a woman owning her sexuality, unafraid to show how sensual she was to the world. How she’d changed… from the blushing shyness of a barely blossoming girl into a woman who thrived on a high sex drive.

  Checking the time, it indicated that it was almost five-thirty in the morning. If I didn’t make a decision this instant, I’d have to suffer the glaring brightness of the early morning sun, and I’d be miserable after not sleeping for almost two days in a row.

  I groaned as I reached into my glove compartment. “Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath as I took out the keys and slid out of my car with my heart restarting back to life.

  My heart rate sped up at the thought of going into her place uninvited, yet she and I had gone past normal civility. We’d always been at war with each other, however this time, it felt more genuine.

  It was terrifying, but I wasn’t going to lie, this crazy chase, the heated back and forth as we fought lusting after one another, turned me the fuck on like no one ever could.

  My cock was semi-permanently hard where Olivia was concerned. From the first time I had met her, I’d been blue-balled ever since.

  Chapter 22

  Liv

  I was dreaming. Sub-consciously, I knew I was. I tried to make myself wake up so I could snap out of this horrid dream; nothing seemed to work.

  It was dark—pitch black—and I had been running for quite some time now. Not the leisurely kind of run, but running as if something or someone was hounding me. From time to time, there would be a faint flash of light coming from somewhere that would give me a glimpse of my surroundings. Apparently, I was running in the middle of a residential road lined with mahogany trees. The eerie silence was deafening, and the only thing I could hear was the loud, thumping beat of my heart against my chest as well as the ragged way I was breathing—shallow and sharp, sounding like I was about to die soon.

  In the dream, I was wearing what I’d had on earlier, sans my Havaianas. The asphalt felt moist, as if it had just rained, though there were no puddles anywhere. However, the more I progressed, the asphalt remained moist on my feet, then it gradually started to get hot. Not scalding hot, but hot enough for me to notice. I didn’t want to stop running because I wanted to get home. That’s when a flash of orange appeared from afar and somehow made my heart stop.

  The orange glow would disappear and reappear after I blinked again. The amplified sound of my heart echoed everywhere, like the ones in the movies, while the glow kept coming closer to me.

  Frozen and locked in place, the glow became fire. A dancing fire with bright blue lighting from its base, flickering before my eyes as it rapidly advanced towards me. The fire got bigger and brighter the more it accelerated to where I stood frozen, readying to engulf me whole. The scorching heat felt like it was melting my skin as it burned the ends of my hair before it literally lit me on fire and completely destroyed me.

  I watched myself burn, screaming and shrilling in the most painful way. The echoes of my cries were so spine-chilling it reminded me of a dying animal as it helplessly lay injured and wounded after getting shot. The curling sound of death closing in as you begged for your life yet knew there was no chance of survival.

  The light dispersed, but my howling, eerie screams kept vibrating everywhere before complete darkness enveloped me. Pitch black with the sound of my beating heart coupled with my shallow breaths reverberated everywhere. A swishing sound coalesced with the rampant, galloping beat of my heart before it got louder and louder, deafening me as I tried to cover my ears to make it go away. Nothing worked. And it felt like it was going to make my ears bleed and my chest burst from the force of the sound. Gripping my ears, I belted out the loudest scream I could make.

  Then pitch black greeted me in silence once more. There was no sound of my breaths or the beat of my heart. Just complete, utter silence while my eyes scoured for something—anything—yet I
couldn’t see a thing. It was as if I was blind and the only companion I had was myself.

  After a full minute of nothingness, my panic escalated, feeling as though this was my new prison. I tried to call out for help, however no sound came. In my mind, I was screaming, saying “no, no, this can’t be happening to me,” but I couldn’t hear myself speak aloud.

  My skin prickled as my hands touched the base of my throat. Tears formed in my eyes. I was crying, though no sound could be heard. The intensity of the prickling came to a point where it was starting to hurt, as if my skin was being pulled off or being suctioned. When I took a sharp turn to avoid the excruciating sensation something greeted me from a few feet away.

  It was a black casket… with two large, gilded pillar candleholders floating on both ends. Flickering steadily. Waiting.

  Olivia… It called out in a soft whisper.

  Olivia… It called on me again as I stared at it, horrified. Petrified of what to do next.

  All the pain I had just gone through immediately left as my gaze focused on the daunting scene before me.

  Olivia… It whispered to me as I faintly heard a girl’s laughter… a familiar sound that reminded of a time when Mom and Dad used to tickle and shower me with love.

  Transfixed, I started to make my way towards it. Each step seemed like I was floating, but I couldn’t be so sure because I couldn’t bring myself to see what I was stepping on.

  I was spellbound—hypnotized—by what was taking place as I gathered closer to it. I was halfway there when the casket popped open, making that slow, squeaky, bone-chilling sound. I found it odd, yet I somehow thought that it was welcoming me, like a door that could transport you to a different world.

  So I pushed forward, determined.

  And when I got to the shiny casket, I gasped as I saw a little girl about seven to eight-years-old that closely resembled me.

  Then she opened her glassy eyes, greeting me hello.

  It didn’t take a second before I screamed; bellowing to my heart’s content before something hit me on the face, knocking me down as I scrambled to rebalance myself. I was breathing raggedly, and when I opened my eyes, Greyson’s frowning face was looking down at me.

  “Grey?” I choked out before I reluctantly reached out to touch his cheeks, making sure he was real.

  “Were you having a nightmare? I’m sorry I slapped you, but I tried to shake you a few minutes and you wouldn’t wake up. You were screaming, and it sounded like you were choking…” His hand pressed against my forehead before he cupped my face, looking concerned. “It sounded like you were dying.”

  I stared at his mouth as he spoke, mesmerized for a bit as I recalled what had just occurred in my dream.

  The dream… I felt chills just thinking about it. Still, it felt so real my heart rate hadn’t recovered yet. It was too disturbing, and not to mention, mind-bending to even think of it, but most of all, I was petrified to even ponder what it all meant.

  “Liv?” Greyson’s frown deepened as he watched me with concern.

  A black casket… Did that mean I was going to die soon? But didn’t they say your dreams were the opposite of the true outcome? If so, was that an indication I was going to have a new life?

  The more Greyson tried to get my attention, the more uncomfortable I became. Even after the hair-raising dream, I wasn’t over what had happened with him hours ago. Besides, what was he doing here anyway? Then I immediately tensed, dawning on the fact that he was here. In my place. On my bed!

  “How in the world did you get in here?” I asked, almost yelling at him. “I double-checked everything before I went to sleep—I made sure…” I trailed off as I recalled how I had made sure everything was locked and secured.

  “I have keys,” he reluctantly said before I pushed the covers off my body and slid out of bed, needing space between us.

  My body was wired and more awake than mere seconds ago after learning the fact that my privacy had been breached. “How did you get them? From Brett?” Fuck, why would he do that? It wasn’t as if his son and I were the best of friends…

  His gaze scanned my body before he gazed into my eyes. “Sort of—”

  “Sort of?” I stared at him askance, needing more explanation than that. “What do you mean by sort of?”

  He gave me sharp look before he cocked his head to the side then met my eyes again. “I convinced him I should have a copy… for emergencies.”

  “What the ever loving fuck?” My eyes popped out of my sockets. “Why would you do that?” The thought of him sharing the key to my place with Edith brought chills to my body. What if…?

  What if it was Edith I had woken up to instead of Greyson after having that nightmare? What would’ve happened then? Would she try to kill me in my sleep? I mean, after all, I had dreamt about a black casket.

  This time, I was truly frightened of Edith because that bitch wouldn’t stop at anything when it came to Greyson. And in some fucking insane possibility that she’d ever find out about Grey and I having sex not once but twice I would be buried deep in the ground at a moment’s notice.

  “Did you tell anyone about having keys to my apartment?” I was starting to stutter as I shivered uncontrollably. I needed… something. What would I do when the time came when Edith found out? I would need to leave. Again. My mind was racing everywhere, imagining places and scenarios… and where I’d run to when I had to leave…

  I wished to God I had someone to speak to—someone rational that knew me so well. Someone like Liam.

  “And why would I tell anyone that I have your house keys?”

  For all sorts of reasons. “Can you please hand me those keys and leave?”

  He immediately jumped to his feet, crowding my space, looking as frustrated as ever. “It took me a few hours to fight off this need to see you, and you want me to leave?”

  He had been fighting it off… He had lusted after me for so long, how had I thought he could simply forget the fact I was in the same city as him without having him wanting to nail me whenever he could? It was all he wanted… All he ever thought I could ever be was his plaything. It was one thing to know that the man you were completely crazy about lusted after you, but it was another thing when you knew that was all you would ever be in his eyes. A plaything.

  “Yes, Greyson! You. Need. To. Leave!”

  His eyes darkened as he kept still, his eyes sharp and still before he let his gaze drop and heatedly lingered on my bare thighs and back into my eyes again. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

  Fuck. His question threw me off. I hadn’t realized that I was wearing one of his. I used to smuggle a lot of them before heading back to my room after having sex with him in his pool house. I loved wearing them. They made me feel closer to him. But there was this one particular shirt that had his cologne where I asked him to take it off and set it aside for me so I could inhale his scent whenever I missed him and he wasn’t around. He was staring right at that particular shirt, probably wondering what I was doing with it on after I had walked away from him earlier.

  I could just play it off coolly and act as if it meant nothing. After all, I had a few of Liam’s, but it wasn’t for sentimental purposes, more for comfort.

  Giving him a steady look, I tried to brush it off. “It’s comfortable to sleep in…” I nervously licked my lips as he came closer.

  His sight dropped on my heaving breasts before he licked his bottom lip, rasping out his next question, “Do you often sleep in it?”

  “Yes…” I responded reluctantly. Where was he going with this? It was only a shirt. “It only happens when I don’t have anything to wear to sleep—”

  Desire immediately snapped to anger, looking like he was about to pounce on me before asking something I hadn’t expected to come out of his mouth. “Have you fucked Liam while wearing my shirt?”

  What kind of man was he to ask such a personal question? How was I to know if I had or hadn’t? I mean, I slept with this shirt about once a week, an
d Liam and I had been inseparable after that night we had mated in his Range Rover. So what were the chances of it happening? A whole lot.

  “I’m not sure…” I shouldn’t be nervous because I had nothing to hide from him, but his eyes and how cagey he was acting made me anxious, as if my answer would set him off like a rocket ready to launch into outer space.

  His nostrils flared as he stepped closer in a slow, pin-dropping pace that made me hear everything that was going on inside my body. He didn’t halt until our noses touched as he drilled his question into me. “You’re not sure?” he hissed in a whispered manner. “HOW. CAN. YOU. NOT. KNOW?”

  My hand shook as I reached out to touch his chest, hoping to calm him down, however the second my hand touched his chest over his shirt, I felt his heart galloping at the same rate as mine. Even when I shouldn’t notice, even in my jumbled state of mind, it never ceased to escape me how good he looked or that he probably was the most beautiful thing I had ever set my eyes on.

  “Grey,” I whispered, wanting to kiss him as I angled my lips closer to his.

  When my bottom lip touched his, I closed my eyes, hoping he’d kiss me. Yet, he remained still, angry and simmering in his own fume of hate. And in that instant, I realized that, no matter how much I loved him, there wouldn’t be any amount of love I could shower him with that would make him feel the same towards me. So, placating my heart and my body’s need would only further my endangerment of never recovering from him.

  Looking at my hand, I took a second or two to remember how his heart felt beating against my palm before I slowly slid it off his chest and retracted it, squeezing and flexing it shut. Then I recalled how he had cussed right after he came inside me, regretting ever touching me in the first place.