by Naomi Niles
“Then what is it?”
“I— I don’t know what it is.” I slumped against the wall. “But I know how I feel.”
“I don’t want to hear this crap.”
“What if it’s a good thing?” I couldn’t mask the anger in my voice. “What if she’s exactly what I need, and I’m the one she wants to be with?”
“You’re stepping into some dangerous territory.”
I stood up, met his eyes, and said, “Michael, I love her.”
Gillian was standing right next to the door. She went rigid went she heard me.
Michael got in my face. “You hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“I don’t think I could do it if I tried.”
He nodded his head, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do. He turned around and walked back into his mother’s room. Gillian turned to me, met my eyes, and walked out. “Do you mean it?’
I was caught off guard, but I wasn’t going to deny it. “Yes.”
She pushed me against the wall and our lips crashed together, creating a flurry of sensation that rolled down my body like somebody poured a bucket of ice cold water on my head. She pulled away and took my hands. “I love you, Dwayne. I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
“I won’t. I couldn’t.”
She kissed again, this time slowly and passionately. She didn’t care that her brother was watching or that he wanted to kick my ass. I didn’t, either. I had a woman I loved, who I would spend every day trying to please, and there was nothing more beautiful.
A young Asian woman in a white coat walked into Gillian’s mother’s room. “Look,” I motioned towards the room.
“Come on.” She took my hand to bring me back into the room where the nurse had her mother propped up while she listened to her heart.
“Tell us something good,” Gillian’s father prompted.
The nurse held up a finger, forcing us to wait and see what happened. I could feel Gillian bristling with anticipation. There was a sense of uncertainty and a tension so thick I could almost reach out and touch it. When the nurse was done, she pulled out her clipboard and wrote something down.
“Well?” Gillian stepped forward.
“She’s going to have to stay for observation.”
“Is she stable?” Michael snapped.
“It’s hard to say with these things, but I don’t foresee any issues, so long as her EKG remains normal.”
“Thanks for the reassurance,” he snapped and stormed out.
“It’s the best I can do,” she shrugged.
“We know,” Gillian’s dad said.
“I feel fine. I just want to go home and take a shower.”
“You can bathe,” the nurse said, “but you can’t leave. I’m sorry.”
“This is some bull.” Gillian’s mother laid back.
“Mom, is there anything that you need?”
“No, I’ll be fine, and I don’t want you worrying. Go home and get some rest, okay?”
“Okay.” Gillian gave her mother a hug, and walked with me out into the hall.
“I don’t think it would do us any good to stay here any longer,” I said.
“I want to stay. It’s still up in the air, and I don’t want to leave her here.”
“She seems alright.”
“That’s just her way. Inside, she’s freaking out. She’d just never let on.”
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“I can’t keep putting you through this. I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” I took her hand and lifted her chin so that she was looking up at me. “You don’t ever have to apologize for anything.”
She hugged me. “Get going. I’ll give you a call when I’m back in town.”
I didn’t want to leave her there. I knew she was still emotional and would be for a while, but this was a family matter. Old friend, lover, or not, I had no business being there.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gillian
“What was that?” my mother asked when I walked back into the room.
My father stepped out, sensing the tension between Michael and I. “She’s banging my best friend.”
“I’m a grown woman,” I snapped.
My mother laughed. “You’ve always liked him. I’m not surprised one bit.”
“I just can’t believe he’s doing this.” Michael shook his head.
“Michael, the only thing that matters is that she’s happy, and she is. Look at her. She’s glowing, and you’re throwing a hissy fit. What is wrong with you?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s just weird.”
“What’s weird about it? Would you want her to act like this if you fell in love with her friend? You should be happy for her.”
“I grew up with him.”
“Then you know how good he is. You know he’s not using me and he won’t hurt me. You know he’ll take care of me, he’ll do everything he can to make sure I’m happy, and you’re still pissed over some childish prejudice.”
“She’s right,” my mom jumped in.
“If you really thought about it, you’d know I was right, Michael.”
He stormed out.
“What do I do? He’s freaking out.”
“Give him time. He’s stubborn and hotheaded; he always has been. But he’s not dumb. He just has to learn to get past his base instincts.”
I slumped down in the chair next to my mother. “I’m in love, and he’s throwing a hissy fit about it. It makes absolutely no sense. He’s always wanted the best for me.”
“I’ve never understood this kind of thing myself. I’m excited.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. Why did you kick him out? I wanted to talk to him.”
“I’m not going to let you grill him. He’s upset enough about what happened to you.”
“You’re not staying. I won’t have you guys moping around, acting like I’m dying.”
“We’re worried.”
“I don’t care. If something happens, it happens. There’s no point sitting around waiting for things to go wrong.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Well, you have to. You should go talk to your brother, anyway.”
“You’re probably right, but I need you guys to call me if anything happens.”
“Gillian, if I die, you’ll know.”
I laughed and stood up to give her a hug. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. Go talk to him.” She waved me out of the room. I found Michael standing next to the vending machine, trying to feed it a mangled dollar. It just kept coming back out. He kicked it. “Ah!”
“Will you just stop?”
“I’m sorry.” He let his head fall and stared at the tile.
“Are you?”
“Yes. I know I’m a complete prick, and Mom’s right. I should just be happy that you’re happy, and you’re right. He’s a good guy; you could do a lot worse.”
“But you still don’t like it.”
“I’ll get over it.”
“Will you take me home? Mom’s kicking us all out.”
“Yeah, come on.” He led me back to his car.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dwayne
I stared straight ahead, trying to keep my focus on the freeway, but the sun was reflecting off the road creating a mirage and the sand was starting to become more real than the road. I put on my blinker and pulled into a fast food restaurant parking lot, barely aware of what I was doing.
My breath caught in my throat. Click, click, click, click.
An inhale became an exhale, an exhale became an inhale. Then the two melded, and I lost control of my breath entirely. I doubled forward. Click, click, click, click.
That sound — was it an IED? I jumped and looked around. I was standing in the middle of a dirt road with two mud brick walls on either side, watching a little girl covered from head to toe in a baby blue burka. She was walking towards me, carrying a bucket of well water.
> “Stop!” I screamed.
She looked at me, stopped, then inched forward.
“Stop!” I screamed in Arabic, but she wouldn’t listen. She just kept walking towards me, humming softly.
“Hurry, move!” I screamed in Arabic. I wanted to run to her and push her aside, but I couldn’t. Time stopped when she took another step forward. For one sweet second, she had a chance at life, then it was gone with resounding crack that blew her to pieces. The Taliban buried IEDs on the road, and I was there to stop people from stepping on them.
Nothing was left of her except for a blood-stained burka and her head, rolling down the hill towards my feet. I tried to stop myself. I told myself that it wasn’t real. I was in the parking lot of a fast food store, not an Afghani village. It wasn’t real.
Click, click, click, click. I was a bomb ready to explode — and there was nothing that could stop it.
I ducked down, screaming, begging myself to turn away, but I didn’t. Instead, I lifted the burka, and looked down at the girl, but this time it wasn’t the girl. It was Gillian.
Click, click, click, click. “AHH!” I roared and slammed my hand down to turn off the blinker.
I closed my eyes. Breathe. Breathe.
My breath came eventually, and my heart settled down, but I still wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t want Gillian to be there alone. I needed to be by her side, comforting her and telling her that everything would be okay. But it wasn’t my place, and I had to accept that.
The world faded in and out the rest of the drive home, and it didn’t stop when I got inside. I needed a distraction, but I couldn’t sit still. I’d slip back into that world. I decided to go into the kitchen and make myself something to eat, hoping that the task of cooking would make it easier for me to deal with what was happening.
I had a bag of roma tomatoes and some fresh basil I had to use, so I cut the tomatoes in half, cleaned out inside, and drizzled olive oil, Italian seasoning, and sea salt over them, then stuffed them in the oven to roast while I sautéed mushrooms, garlic, onions, celery, and carrots.
The tomatoes bloomed quickly, sending out the sickeningly sweet scent of marinara throughout the house. When they finished, I stuck the mixture in the blender, added a dash of red wine vinegar, and stuck the mixture on to simmer with a pair of Italian sausages.
I moved through the task mindlessly, as if I’d been doing it every day for years. My mind was still racing when the sauce finished and I put the noodles on to boil. I stood over the pot, watching as the bubbles sprang up, rising above the surface of the water. I could feel the heat, growing hotter and hotter. I was going to lose my mind.
There was a knock on the door. I rushed over to answer it. Gillian was standing outside with her arms folded. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I stepped aside.
She walked in. “It smells amazing in here.”
“Thanks. Is your mom okay?”
“I think so. I talked to Michael. He drove me home.” She walked into the kitchen and took a look at the sauce.
“What’d he say?”
“I honestly think he’s excited. At first, he was pissed, but my mom and I sat him down and talked to him; he started to come around. Now he’s talking about how happy he is for me.”
“That’s so good to hear. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving.”
“You’re in for a treat.” I piled noodles onto her plate, spooned some sauce over it, and cut up a sausage to add on top.
“It looks amazing.” Gillian took a bite as soon as I set it down.
“I have some wine, if you’d like some.”
“Sure.” She took another bite of sausage. “Oh,” she groaned. “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I poured her some wine and made myself a plate so I could sit down.
“I’m just glad that I could come see you after what’d happened. I knew you’d be worried.”
“I’m alright,” I said and went back to my food.
“You don’t have to play it off. You’ve done so much for me. I’m lucky to have you.”
“I keep thinking that you’ll disappear, that I’ll wake up from a dream.”
“I’m real, and I can prove it.” She finished the last of her noodles.
“Oh, yeah?” I grabbed our plates and took them to the sink to start washing them.
She came up behind me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered as she reached out to put her hands down my pants. I dropped the sponge I was using when her fingers grazed the head of my cock.
I whipped around and grabbed her up off her feet. “Come on.”
Chapter Thirty
Gillian
Dwayne carried me into the bedroom, where he laid me down and fell down on top of me, the full force of his massive body pressing against mine as he proceeded to devour my lips, my neck, behind my ears. Every touch was another bead of warmth, creating an amber glow, like a haze of opiates that compounded when his hands reached up under my shirt, behind my back. He pulled me up and whipped my bra off, then threw my shirt onto the ground with it.
He transformed into a monster. With a snarl, he dove down, his hands roaming down my stomach. The amber glow had become a sizzling fire storm that rushed down my body, spreading over my chest, my arms, into the tips of my fingers, and my stomach, where it settled.
His cock was grinding against my legs, pressing through his jeans and rubbing up against my thigh. It was rock hard, as ready as I was, but this wasn’t about the race. He moved to my other breast, giving it the same loving care he gave to the first, then back to my lips.
His hand grazed my belt loop and locked on. He sat up, threw off his shirt, and pulled back. His cock pulled down my leg. “Let’s get rid of this,” he said as he unbuttoned my pants and slid them down. Goosebumps were popping up over my skin from the cold air, but he was warm and solid, spreading my legs now, so he could fall down on top of me. He was grinding his cock against my clit through his jeans while he worshipped me with his lips.
The firestorm became a raging blast, fueled by the feeling of his cock pressing deeper. He hadn’t even taken his pants off, and I was already overwhelmed with it. He traced his finger down my chest, over my stomach, and rubbed my clit slowly while he watched my reaction. “I’ll never get over that face you make.”
I pulled his head down and kissed him while he slid my panties down my legs. It was so smooth, I barely noticed what he was doing until he rose up and pulled down his pants. He moved his hand over his shaft, letting the skin pull over his head.
“You look so sexy, watching me like that.”
“I’ve got a pretty nice view myself.”
“Yeah?”
He was rubbing my clit now, his hand still stroking his cock while he stood over me, watching my reaction. He bared his teeth and dove his finger through me, hitting the spot instantly. A spark flew through me. I felt a wave pounding down over my body, a soft shudder at first, then a quick burst and finally a waterfall that washed over me.
He was watching the entire time, stroking himself until he couldn’t take it any longer. He grabbed me by the ankles and pushed his cock past my lips, into my body. My head shot back, and I let out a soft cry.
“You’re so tight.” He drove in deeper, hit my spot, and went into a frenzy, pounding, slipping in and out, faster now. I pushed into him, my body begging for more. He obliged happily and drilled through so deep I could feel his balls.
He lost control, in and out, in and out, and the sound of his body slamming against mine fueled the fire that was raging inside. This was molten metal, pure passion, a volcano growing larger and larger. When this beast exploded, there would be nothing left of me, but that sensation, the sweet burn. I knew it was coming. I could feel the pressure rising.
He was grunting, moving so fast I couldn’t keep track. I could see the strain of his face and smell the sweat pouring down his chest. There was no denying that he was facing the
same monstrous beast I was, and he was rushing headlong into it, carrying me with him.
I couldn’t take it. “Ah!” The pressure was building, and I was going to explode.
“Ooh,” his long drawl was the catalyst. He collapsed on top of me, his lips against mine as the fire spread, so fast I couldn’t stop it. The explosion drove my head back against the pillow. The rush was a force so compelling that, as it spread throughout my body, seemed to destroy everything it touched, leaving behind nothing but raw pleasure and the sense that I was watching the fire rage through him.
His lips were fueling it, dragging it down, rubbing it in. It didn’t go away, not at first. It just rolled through, over and over, until he fell down beside me and pulled me in so that my head was resting against his chest where it belonged.
“We won’t get to do this again for a while,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I pulled back to look at him, confused.
“I’m going to be working nights now, and you work during the day. We won’t get to see each other.”
“You’ll find a way, though, won’t you?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
I sighed and laid back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna miss sleeping next to you.”
“It won’t be for long.”
“Are you sure that it’s safe for you to be going there?”
Dwayne turned to face me. “When I first arrived in Afghanistan, they took us into a village near the southern border. It was like stepping thousands of years back in time. There was no electricity, no running water, no phones.
“The people wore the same rags that their parents had worn when they were children, and their parents wore before that. The women weren’t allowed to go outside, and they couldn’t show their bodies to anyone, so they covered themselves in dirty, sweat-stained burkas that smelled like they hadn’t washed in years. The men were no better. They didn’t shower or shave. In fact, I think shaving was banned.
“Anyways, they took us to the local police office, where we were supposed to make camp for the night. It was surreal. The police were three boys, no older than fifteen, each with fully automatic weapons that they propped up against the ruined, mud brick walls of the tiny square building they called a police station.” He paused for a moment, lost in the memory.
