by A. M. Hudson
The air coming into my throat shook. I shuffled my feet closer together. “That has nothing to do with you.”
“But it does.” His breath touched my forehead, warm and sugary. “Because you get the same heat, the same racing in your chest, when I touch you.”
Feeling small, I looked up into his eyes, letting him stroke my cheek with the back of his finger. “I hope you’re not implying that I have feelings for you,” I managed to say.
“No,” he said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. “When it comes to you, emotions have nothing to do with sex.”
“Sex?”
“Not just sex, but...everything leading up to it.”
“What are you saying?” I placed my hands on my hips.
“I’m saying, you like touch—you need it.” He smiled. “You’re not like other girls, Ara. How you feel in here—” he touched my chest, “is separate to what you want—” he edged his fingers closer to my skirt and stopped short, “here.”
My breath shook as my mind searched for clarity, fighting the images of desires I wasn’t sure were mine or merely forced upon me by his own sick needs to make me think I loved him.
“I’m not making you picture those, Ara, you’re doing that yourself.”
“Why?” I asked, aiming my question at him, myself and God.
Jason glanced over his shoulder again. “Will you meet me? Tonight?”
“What?”
“Meet me,” he added more hurriedly. “And I’ll tell you.”
“Why would I do that?” Do I look crazy?
“No, but you’ll meet me anyway.”
“Forget it. There’s no way I’m—”
“I’ll tell you why I bit Emily,” he offered.
“I don’t care why you bit her. Your reasons don’t give you any cause to—”
“Oh, come on, Ara. Of course you care why I bit her. And you’ll meet me tonight, because you’re intrigued by me. You want to know if it’s true—that I love you, and if maybe there is some small part of me that’s still salvageable.”
Damn mind readers!
“Tonight,” he said, looking at the forest trail again.
“Where?”
“In your dream—I’ll find you.”
“What? Jason?” I called, but he disappeared, with Petey running down a thick trail on the other side of the lake after him.
“Ara!”
My heart sunk when I heard the familiar voice of my ex-best friend.
“Ara!” he called again; I looked at the rock, gauging how long it would take me to run, hide behind it, half wishing Jason was still here. “Ara, I know you’re out here, baby.”
Baby? Baby? How can he call me that when half an hour ago he practically wanted me dead, or at the very least, bludgeoned to unconsciousness. Okay, so maybe that’s a little severe. Wrapped in duct tape with a sock in my big fat gob might be closer to the truth.
“Ara, please?” His voice was getting closer.
To hide or stay? I looked at the rock again.
“Oh, God! Ara.” Mike appeared on the cusp of the trail, running hands though his hair as he folded over. “Baby, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I felt a little ridiculous standing saturated and alone in the middle of the clearing. I kinda wished I’d chosen the hide option. “Why?” I said slowly. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Would falling to my knees right now be the right way to tell you how sorry I am?” He came up in front of me quickly, keeping to the pace he’d obviously used while searching. “Baby, I—I don’t even know what to say. I just...” he stopped midsentence when he reached for me and my automatic reaction was to shirk away. I felt a bit silly for reacting that way. I wasn’t really scared of him, per se, I just wanted to make him aware of how he made me feel. It worked.
Realisation spread out like a blanket of shame over him. “I know I scared you, baby. Quite frankly, I bloody scared myself.” He ran his palm over his face and looked around at the lake, all its beauty. “I don’t know what happened. I, I could see it all happening, but couldn’t stop it. I just—I don’t even know what I can say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to touch what I feel. I—if I were someone else, I’d punch me in the face for what I just did to you.”
I let myself smile, imagining it. “I could punch you?”
He opened his arms, his chest sinking a little. “Baby, please do. Please. I deserve it.”
“No, Mike. You don’t. You were right to be mad.” I pushed his arms down. “It is my fault. I did all of this.”
“No.” He pulled me in and tangled his hands in my hair, pinning my face to his chest. “No, you didn’t. Emily did this. She provoked someone she knew was dangerous, Ara. You kept this from me because you couldn’t trust me with it—and look how I’ve repaid your trust.”
“Why the sudden change of heart, Mike? Why don’t you hate me anymore?”
“I didn’t mean that—I know I felt it, but it’s not how I really feel.” He closed his eyes and squeezed me tighter. “I hate myself right now. I’ve been so worried; I ran everywhere looking for you.”
“Where’s David?”
“He had to stay with Emily. He can’t leave her there alone, she’s too dangerous.”
“Oh.”
“Ara, as soon as I heard the door slam, I fell apart. I can’t tell you what that felt like—to feel you in my arms, to hurt you that way and watch the pain spread across your face. It killed me, baby, and I couldn’t make it stop. I’m worried...” He stood back from me, looking at his own hands. “I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.”
Insight pressed my shoulders down. “I know what it is.”
“You know what what is?”
“I know why you’re so angry.”
“What? Why?”
My jaw jutted forward a little. To tell or not to tell?
“Ara, please?” He grabbed my arms.
“You won’t like it,” I warned.
“I don’t like feeling like this. Please, if you know something—”
“It’s the blood—David’s blood,” I said, pointing to my own face, referring to where the deep scratches Emily left on Mike had been bleeding only days ago.
“What?” He drew back.
“You’re addicted.”
Mike’s brow pulled together at the centre, thought distant in his eyes.
“When it’s not in your system, you get—angry,” I finished.
“Angry?”
“Yes. Kind of like a drug addict.”
“Does that happen with you?”
“Yeah. Remember our fight in the auditorium that day—at school last year?” I bit my smiling lip.
Mike nodded. “That was blood addiction?”
“Mm-hm. But I’d had less blood than you have, so the addiction wasn’t as strong.”
“Oh, baby.” He kissed my head. “I won’t forgive myself for what I just did to you. I am so sorry.”
“I’m okay, Mike. Really.” He looked at my arms; I hadn’t noticed it, and Jason didn’t mention it, but there were four long bruises on each of my arms—damage from Mike’s grip. “Okay, so maybe a little bruised.”
He clicked his tongue, lifted my arm, one, then the other, and kissed the bruising. “I’m a monster. Don’t you ever forgive me for this, Ara. I don’t deserve it. I’ll leave. I’ll go away, and you never have to see me again.”
“No.” I grabbed his shirt. “I don’t want that, Mike. I never wanted any of this. Just…”
“Ara, you shouldn’t trust people that hurt you. I didn’t know I was capable of ever hurting you.” He dropped his head. “I guess I’m just like every other guy who says he’s not abusive.”
“Mike—it wasn’t you. It was the addiction.”
“Do you hear yourself?” He smirked. “You sound like a victim, Ara—saying exactly what every other girl who’s been hurt by her boyfriend says.”
“But this is—”
“No! I
t shouldn’t matter—addiction or not.” He simmered his loud voice a little. “I should’ve controlled myself. I won’t be one of those guys who always has an excuse.”
“It’s not like you’re saying I just had a bad day or You brought this upon yourself by not cleaning the floor, Mike. This is something supernatural, something that was out of your control. A freakin’ blood addiction.”
“Does addiction make it okay for an alcoholic to hit his mates at the pub?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing, Ara.” He stepped closer, taking my arms more gently than he had earlier today. “I grabbed you. I hurt you, and you’re so small, so precious.” His glassy eyes followed the line of my face. “I could have done worse than just scare you or bruise your arms. I won’t stay around for that to happen again.”
“I can’t lose you, too, Mike. I can’t lose everyone I love just because they might hurt me.”
“Ara, that’s a perfect reason to lose someone.”
“Not in the world I live in. It’s a world of murder and blood and damage beyond repair or comprehension. There’s bound to be a bit of pain—and I can take the physical pain, Mike, but this?” I placed my hand over my heart. “This, I can’t take.”
He rolled his shoulders back and sighed. “And what about next time, huh? What’s my excuse going to be then?”
“Mike, you’re not one of those guys. Don’t you see?”
“I disagree.”
“Mike, please. If you leave...if you...” My voice shook; I just wanted to burst into tears for the frustration. I hated when he’d make up his mind—there was never any changing it.
“It’d really hurt you if I leave? You really care that much?”
My teeth clenched slightly. “Can’t you tell?”
“Tell what?”
“That I...that I still love you.”
He gently wrapped his strong, broad fingers around my upper arm, drawing me closer, my head tilting so I could look up at him. “You love me?”
I nodded.
“What kind of love?”
“The wrong kind of love.”
He looked at my lips and said “This kind?” Then pressed a firm but delicate kiss there. I nodded, breathing out with relief, wrapping my arms all the way around his neck so my entire body, wet clothes and all, pressed inch to inch against his. A burning surge of anger and lust shuddered through me, the fulfilment of thoughts left wanting too long; his strong embrace, his warm, loving arms and a gentle touch that could only be human.
The beat of my heart thumped in my ears as Mike pushed me back against the tree and lifted my soaking singlet top—smoothing his thick fingers down my spine. It felt so confusingly right, so much that I begged him, under hot, jagged breaths, to go further, make love to me, right here, right now—to touch me, caress the craving from my skin and make the pain of wanting go away.
We breathed the heavy, heated air from each other’s lips while our hands searched frantically over places we’d always only dreamed to touch. Mike tucked his thumbs into the band of my underwear, trying in vain to remove them, but they bunched up, rolled around the top of my hip, stopped by the half-dried lake that made my skin sticky.
“Okay, that won’t work,” he said, abandoning that route, lifting me up so my legs wrapped his hips. A small hollow formed between us, his stomach drawing in to reveal his ribs, making room for me to pull the zipper of his jeans down.
We both let out a breath, his smooth skin finally touching me, brushing against my inner thigh, after so many years only imagining it. He could hardly breathe for the desperation to have me; I knew how badly he wanted to lay me down and tear my clothes away, because I wanted it too.
“Baby,” he whispered against my neck. “Baby, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Mike.” As he reached down, his warm, so very human touch shifting my underwear to one side, I caught his hand, stopping him an inch before he owned my virginity. “Mike, wait.”
“You okay?” He repositioned his hips to keep me up where I started to slip down the rough surface of the tree; I was sure I had an ant and, at minimum, some bark in my underwear.
“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine, but...We can’t. I can’t do this to David.”
The hot breath of Mike’s smile moved my hair over my face. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry, Mike.”
“Oh, baby. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I got carried aw—”
“Ara?” A voice, liquid with cold hurt, broke the intensity of our near connection.
“David.” I looked past Mike’s shoulder, my butt scraping the bark all the way down the tree until my toes touched the ground again.
“He has really bad timing,” Mike whispered to me, smiling as he fastened his jeans.
The weight of my breath stayed heavy, even as the intensity of desire rushed away, leaving a rigid twist of panic in my gut. Frozen, I waited for David to react.
He turned, with clenched fists, and walked, at human pace, back in the direction he came.
“David. Wait?” I called, running after him.
“Ara. I can’t talk with you right now.”
“David, please. It wasn’t—”
“Just don’t.” He stopped, holding a finger to my face. “Don’t give me the automated responses.”
“It’s not her fault, mate, I kissed her, she—”
“She can control herself.” David turned away. “I expect better of her.”
“David?” I burst into tears.
He froze, keeping his back to us. “Crying won’t grant you my pity, Ara.”
I folded over a little more, burying my face in my hands. “I stopped myself,” I yelled. “I stopped. I wasn’t going to do it.”
Mike reached for David’s shoulder. “Give her a break, mate, she—”
At lightning speed, David twisted around, planting a blow so violent to Mike’s face that his feet left the ground and he spun, hitting the dirt with the force of a hammer. My tears stopped; I waited for Mike to get up, but he didn’t move. Even David looked a little shocked at his own rage.
“Mike?” I edged forward, my heart in my throat. “Mike. Please get up.”
Just as David took a step to help him, Mike groaned, rolling up to sit, clutching his jaw. “Shit—that stings.”
“Are you satisfied?” I yelled at David, squatting beside Mike.
“Actually, yes.” He smiled, his fist loosening as he turned away.
“Well, I’m glad my pain brings you satisfaction.” Mike shook his head, using the tree to struggle to his feet.
“If you ever—” David stomped toward Mike, a finger of caution aimed at his chest, “—touch her again, I’ll turn you into a vampire, then torture you for eternity. Got it?”
“Duly noted,” Mike said, almost laughing.
“Excuse me!” I dropped my hands to my hips. “You don’t get to decide who I kiss and who I don’t. You don’t own me.”
“Right now, while I’m here, I do. And that was more than just kissing.” David walked away again.
“I’m not your girlfriend, David. I did nothing wrong.”
“By whose standards, Ara?” He kept walking.
An eye-narrowing infuriation raged in me, stiffening my jaw; I bent down, picked up the nearest rock and, before Mike could react, launched it at David’s head.
“Ow!” He jolted forward, cupping a hand to the site of impact. “You little brat.”
The twisted grimace on my lips slipped away as David started after me—at human pace. I squealed and hid behind Mike, who blocked David’s hand as he reached for me.
“Back off, mate,” Mike said, but his tone was playful.
“Give her to me, Mike.” David stopped and waited. “I’m not going to hurt her, you know that. Now give her to me.”
Mike studied him, his eyes focused, then, he stepped aside.
“Traitor,” I cried as David grabbed my arm, making me feel so small, closed in under his towering height.
<
br /> “Now you listen to me, missy.” An impetuous grin hid in the corners of his lips. “I love you—more than anything on this earth. I am here because of that, and will not tolerate this friend business any longer.”
“I don’t care what you want.” I made myself taller. “Either you stay permanently, or we’re just friends.”
He dropped my arm. “Fine. We’re friends. But I don’t ever want to see you in the arms of another man. Do you understand me?”
“No. You’re leaving. Why should I have to spend my life alone just because you don’t want me?”
David shook his head. “You’re so stubborn, Ara.”
I straightened my clothes. “And you like me that way.”
A smile crept in under his angry eyes, an odd moment of warmth in a ghastly situation. “Mike seems to think we should share you.”
“Mike?” I thrust my arms to my side, turning as his palms rose.
“I never said that.”
“No, but you thought it.” David walked away.
“It was a fleeting thought—a joke.”
David, keeping his back to us, said, “No, it wasn’t.”
“Okay, maybe it wasn’t.” Mike scratched his upper lip. “But what else can we do, David? We both love her.”
“What about Emily,” I said; David stopped.
“I—” Mike looked at David. “That’s over.”
“Because she’s a vampire?” I said.
“No—because she’s dead.”
“Mike? How can you be so mean?”
“It’s not mean. It’s just how I feel.”
“God!” I threw my hands up. “She still has a heart, Mike. She still has feelings, you know. Feelings for you.”
As Mike closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, my disapproval softened; his face was bruising pretty badly now, the fist imprint along his jaw rising up under a short gash, the remains of the scratches Emily gave him looking suddenly more severe and painful.
David, I turned to him, give him blood. He’s hurting.
“No, he can suffer,” David concluded. “I’m going home. You two can figure this out on your own.”
“Figure what out—what’s to figure?” I grabbed his arm.
