Fault Lines

by Rebecca Shea

  She nods and takes a step toward the front door. I mimic her movement and step carefully in front of her, blocking her, trying to pause her escape. She stops and finally lifts her head. Her blue eyes meet mine and she pulls a deep breath into her lungs .

  "I don't remember—" she starts before I cut her off .

  "You had a good time last night." I smirk. "The drinks," I add just to make sure she knows what I'm talking about. "You deserve it ."

  She sighs and nods her head slightly. "I need to go," she says softly, shuffling from foot to foot, waiting for me to move out of her way. Only I can't. Something inside me keeps me rooted in place, prolonging this moment .

  "Can we talk?" My plea sounds desperate. Hell, I am desperate. Everything I wanted to leave in the past is standing in front of me, and this is my chance to right my wrongs, speak the truth…apologize .

  She shakes her head from side to side. "Not today," she says quietly, yet I can hear her voice waver…the emotion in her voice is clear .

  "Please," I beg. "Just five minutes ."

  "Why?" she asks, squaring her shoulders, trying to come across as confident—only I know her better. She's crumbling…just like I am at the thought of losing this opportunity .

  "Because I need to tell you some things." I take a small step toward her and she immediately takes a step back, retreating from me .

  Running.

  Fleeing.

  The once strong Frankie, who would always stand up to me, always fight me, stands defeated in front of me…This is my doing and I need to rectify it .

  "God, I'm sorry," I say, barely above a whisper, and she instantly begins to shake .

  "I can't," she says, holding out her hand to stop me. "I can't do this right now." Tears fill her sea blue eyes .

  "Frankie." I reach out my hand to steady her as she shakes her head, stopping me from touching her. Her dismissal stings, but isn't unexpected .

  "Don't," she says firmly, clearing her throat .

  I hold up both of my hands in a show of surrender. "When you're ready." I step aside so she's free to leave .

  She takes a deep breath and bolts for the front door. I watch every movement as she fumbles with the doorknob, suddenly pausing. Turning around slowly her eyes find mine and my heart skips a beat .

  "I don't think I'll ever be ready, Cole." Her voice shakes and I see her bite the inside of her cheek before she turns back around quickly and disappears through the front door, taking with her every ounce of hope I had in speaking with her ever again .

  * * *

  I tip my beer back, downing the last swallow before tossing the bottle onto the pile of empty ones that have collected since I started drinking three hours ago. I couldn't stand to sit on the porch and look at Frankie's house across the street, couldn't bear a chance at seeing her again after she fled this morning. So I sit in the backyard, under the pergola drowning my misery in shitty beer .

  I study the Aspen trees that have begun to sway out along the fence line, not sure if they're swaying from the alcohol in my system or from the light breeze that's moved in. I hear the door from my house open then close, and I recognize Carter's heavy footsteps approaching from behind me. From the corner of my eye, I see a black purse fall to the ground next to me as I balance myself on a patio chair, my feet perched on the table in front of me .

  "What's that?" I ask, not chancing a look at the purse. I know damn well what it is .

  "That is your ticket at one more shot with Frankie." He smiles as he slides into the seat opposite of me. Carter called early this morning and I filled him in with the Cliff Notes version of what happened. He pulls a beer from the bucket on the center of the table and twists off the cap, flicking it onto my brick patio. Asshole .

  I huff loudly and close my eyes, my face tilted to the sky. I can almost feel the edge of fall beginning to creep in as the afternoons are just starting to deliver the slightest hint of cooler weather .

  Beneath my eyelids I see Frankie trembling, a vision that haunts me. Just like the vision of her driving away ten years ago and never coming back. I shake my head, trying to forget, except when you hurt the one person who means the world to you, there is no forgetting. I fucking hate myself for the pain and destruction I've caused .

  "There are no more tickets and no more chances," I tell Carter, my voice hard .

  "It's like I don't even know who the fuck you are anymore," he barks at me as the legs of his chair grate against the brick patio .

  I lean forward quickly, my chair dropping onto all four legs as I glare at him. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean ?"

  "I watched you destroy everything, Cole. I watched you sacrifice the one thing that meant everything to you. And now it’s pretty fucking hard to miss the trail of destruction that sacrifice left behind. I was there after every fucking bender you went on and every whore you fucked as you tried to forget about Frankie. I was also there when you finally got your shit together and started building something pretty fucking amazing in this town." His eyes soften when they meet mine. "This is about Frankie. You have one last opportunity to talk to her and I just handed it to you on a silver fucking platter. You owe this to yourself." He walks to the middle of the yard where a large fountain sits. "Actually, you owe this to Frankie," he says without turning around. "She deserves the truth ."

  My blood simmers, my temper flaring. "You don't think I already know that!" I push myself up from my chair and rest my hands on the patio table .

  "Do whatever you want, man," he sighs and walks back toward me. "When she leaves this time, I'm not going to be the one to pick up all your shitty pieces." His shoulder bumps mine hard, knocking me off balance as he moves past me .

  "Take the fucking purse with you when you leave," I snap at him .

  "Fuck you, Cole," he says as the patio door slams shut behind him, leaving Frankie's black purse sitting at my feet .

  "And fuck you, too," I mumble, as if he can hear me .

  Ten

  T he massive pounding in my head and the nausea rolling through my body have kept me in bed all day. I keep my eyes closed as I reach for the nightstand to get my phone but remember that it's in my purse—wherever my purse is. I try to recall the last time I saw it .

  At the bar last night .

  "Shit," I mumble to myself and roll over, pulling my comforter over my head. There's a light rap on the door, and I groan as I pull the covers back down and roll over to see who it is .

  "Looks like someone else could use a little nursing today," Judy snickers and steps inside the room. She's carrying a glass of water and a small packet. "Alka-Seltzer," she says, setting it on my nightstand. "You can thank me later ."

  "How's my mom?" I ask guiltily, my voice raspy and dry .

  "She's good. She'll be better once I update her on your condition," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. "She's been asking about you and Faith ."

  "Shit," I mumble again under my breath. "What time is it ?"

  "Six-thirty. You've slept all day. Faith called for you earlier as well. She's home with the kids, Matthew isn't feeling well, but she was more concerned about you and your," she taps her chin, "over-indulgence last night ."

  I try to roll my eyes, but it hurts too badly. "Matthew? Is he okay ?"

  She nods. "Said something about allergies and just being stuffy. But she didn't want to come over in case it was something more. Didn't want to spread the germs to your mom." She gestures toward Mom's room down the hall. "I'll be back in a little bit with some soup for you. In the meantime, take that Alka-Seltzer." She shoots me a
pointed look and closes the door behind her .

  I push myself upright and take a deep breath as my stomach rolls. I grab a robe and slowly make my way to the bathroom for a hot shower. My entire body aches, my muscles thrumming in tune to my pulse as I step into the scalding water. My body twists, conflicted by the combination of pain and pleasure. Pain at the heat from the water, and pleasure from the relief it's providing to my sore body .

  I keep my eyes pinched closed, fighting back the memory of Cole's blue eyes that held me paralyzed this morning. Waking up to a room that was so eerily unfamiliar as it was familiar was not expected. Never in a million years did I think I'd be waking up in his bed, wrapped in sheets that smell exactly as I remember him—masculine yet sweet. A scent I'll never forget. A scent that I can't shake, my skin breaks into goose bumps as I think about him—Cole .

  The hold he still has on me rattles me to the core. Feelings I'd long since buried have risen to the surface. This morning, the urge to run was as strong as the urge to stay and listen to what he had to say. But I ran—to protect myself, to not allow him to see the hold he'll always have over me .

  "Shit!" I grumble and pull the hot, steamy air deep into my lungs .

  I wash and condition my hair, and scrub my face and body before plugging the drain on the tub. Filling it up with hot water and bubble bath, I pile my long hair on top of my head before sliding into the water and letting my muscles finally relax .

  By the time the water in the bathtub cools, my body doesn't hurt as much. After draining the tub and drying myself off, I pull on my long silk robe. The soft fabric feels light and comfortable against my tender skin. With my arms full of my dirty clothes from last night, I open the bathroom door and a blast of cool air hits my face. Only it's not the cool air that catches me off guard, it's the smell of him . Cole. His masculine cologne fills the small hallway that surrounds us .

  With his left hand fisted and his right hand raised to knock on my bedroom door, he hesitates, a deep sigh resonating from him. His gray t-shirt pulls tightly across the back of his broad shoulders as he once again raises his hand and lightly taps on my bedroom door. He taps his foot anxiously as I study every inch of him from behind .

  Memories from the past come rushing in and I stand frozen in place, staring at Cole's back .

  "W hat's wrong?" Cole asks as I lean against the doorframe of his bedroom. My heart races in my chest as he stands with his hands propped on his hips and a devious smile on his face .

  "Nothing," I tell him, stepping into the bedroom on wobbly knees .

  His lips stretch into a smile. "C’mere." He reaches a hand out for me. My shaking hand reaches out in return, and he captures it, pulling me tightly into him. As I lean my head against his hard chest, he rests his chin on top of my head. I've always fit perfectly in his strong arms, and as they engulf me in his embrace I finally begin to calm down .

  "We don't have to do this," he whispers into my hair .

  "I know." I manage to say, taking a deep breath, "but I want to ."

  His arms squeeze me tighter. Safe. Comforting. Cole is my safe place in this world .

  "I love you, Frankie. Always have, always will ."

  I tip my head back and press up onto my tiptoes, capturing his soft lips in mine. "Then make love to me," I mumble against his lips and begin walking us toward his bed. Lacing our fingers, he lets our hands fall against my hips. "Look at me," he says quietly and I raise my eyes to his. Blue eyes look down on me with concern. "You can say no, Frankie. At any time. Tell me to stop, and I will ."

  "I know." I nod my head nervously .

  "I'm going to touch you…and dammit, Frankie," he mumbles, unwinding his hands from mine. "If you don't want to do this, you need to tell me now." My seventeen-year-old heart beats wildly in my chest as his fingers skim the edge of my shirt and brush against the soft skin of my stomach. He inches them higher, pulling my t-shirt up with his hands. Instinctively, my arms raise and he pulls the shirt off, tossing it to the floor .

  "I want this…I want you," I whisper to him, my voice shaking nervously. Cole has been patient and caring as he's waited for me to be ready for this night. I've always wondered what my first time would be like—and while I never imagined I'd be seventeen, I always knew it would be Cole .

  His rough fingers trace my collarbone where he hooks them in the straps of my bra, sliding them over my thin shoulders. I take a deep breath and chew on my lip as Cole's eyes devour me." I've never wanted anyone like I want you, Frankie ."

  Pressing his lips to mine, he breathes life into me—he's always been the drug I needed, the drug I could never get enough of. My fingers fumble with the button on his jeans, and I feel him smile against my lips at my sudden bout of courage. We both let out a nervous laugh as I finally wrestle the metal button from its hole and I slide the zipper down, allowing his jeans to hang open, his erection on full display .

  Cole wastes no time ridding me of my jeans in return until both pairs are left in a pile at our feet. We stand in nothing but our underwear, our chests rising and falling with each rapid breath. Cole's hard erection presses against my stomach and I can see the want in his eyes .

  "I hope you're not in a hurry, Frankie girl." He walks me back toward the bed until the mattress hits the back of my knees. "Because I plan to touch every part of you…twice, and I plan on this taking all night long." He smirks at me .

  "Your dad—" I manage to say before he cuts me off .

  "Is out of town picking up parts for the shop. Won't be back until tomorrow afternoon." My stomach jumps at the thought of spending all night with Cole. He lowers his head and his tongue traces small circles on my neck while his fingers unfasten my bra. My fingers dip inside the waistband of his boxer briefs, finding his erection waiting for me. While I've touched Cole here before, even tasted him, something feels different about him today. He feels harder and wider today, causing the butterflies to dance in my stomach again .

  He gasps and hooks his fingers in my panties, mimicking what I'm doing to him, only his fingers dip lower, touching me where I'm most sensitive and my body shudders .

  "You're wet." He dips his finger lower as his other hand removes my panties altogether. His fingers separate my lips and my head falls back at the feel of him working me. My breath quickens as he moves faster, and I remember the last time he touched me like this. It was like fireworks and a lightning storm all collided when I climaxed .

  "On the bed," he orders, pulling me from my memory. He helps me down to the center of the soft bed. Removing his boxer briefs, I can't help but take in the sight of Cole naked. Tall and dark, his lean muscles twist and flex with every movement. Every muscle in his abdomen stretches as he reaches out and positions my legs where he wants them. A trail of dark hair runs from his belly button down to the patch of hair between his legs where his cock stands waiting .

  Cole drops to his knees at the edge of the bed and pulls me closer to him. His fingers pressing into the soft flesh of my hips as he positions me .

  "I'm going to make sure you're ready," he tells me, touching me again .

  His finger trails slowly through my soft folds, spreading my wetness. The tip of his finger barely penetrates my opening as he tests my readiness. If this were anyone else, I'd be mortified, but with Cole, he's always owned me. We've been way more intimate with each other, sharing our lives, our dreams, our fears…this is just intimacy in the physical sense—the final bond between us .

  My hips jerk when his lips suddenly press against my aching core, his tongue working slow circles around my sensitive center. My body shakes as he takes his time, teasing and tempting me. My hands alternate between pulling his hair and grabbing the comforter as I try to keep my body from losing control. A low moan escapes my lips and Cole looks up to me wi
th a smirk on his face .

  Cole finally slows and crawls up my body carefully. "You sure?" He looks me in the eyes. His blue eyes dance, speaking a million unspoken words. They speak of truth, of honesty, of everything good in my life. He may only be nineteen, but they speak of love and comfort, and safety. They tell me I'm his and he's mine. He is my compass when I am lost. He is my strength when I am weak. Everything I am is because of him and I'm about to give him the only thing I have to offer—me .

  I nod and take a deep breath, grabbing his biceps. "This is the only thing I've ever really been sure of," I whisper .

  He leans down and presses a light kiss to my lips. I can taste myself on him, the slightest hints of saltiness left on his lips. I should be grossed out, but there's something oddly intimate about it .

  He aligns himself at my center and gently presses forward. "Look at me, Frankie. Don't close your eyes ."

  I bite my lower lip as the pressure builds and with a quick thrust, he makes his way inside me. Closing my eyes, I push back the pain as my body slowly accepts him. I pinch my eyes closed harder and pull my lips between my teeth as he fills me as the pain subsides slowly. While it's far from comfortable, it's not nearly as bad as Faith told me it would be. Cole is careful to move slowly and every movement he makes is tender and full of concern .

  His arms shake as he balances the weight of his body against the mattress. He presses a sweet kiss to my forehead as he makes one last push to fill me completely. "I love you, Frankie girl. Always have, always will ."

  I'll never forget the sound of his voice calling me Frankie girl, or this feeling that I know is love. Pure, genuine love. This is what it feels like to be loved by Cole Ryan .

  T ears sting my eyes at the memory, and a lump begins to form in my throat. I clear my throat and shake my head, pulling myself out of the past. Cole snaps his head around, his eyes widening in surprise as I stand mere feet away from him .