by Ryan Michele
“Leah, read it.”
She gives me a once over trying to figure it out but opens it.
“My beautiful, Leah,”—she looks up at me. “You wrote me a letter?”
I only nod as she continues.
“My beautiful Leah,
I was told once that relationships were complicated. While they take patience and work, they’re only as complicated as you allow them to be. Keep it simple. We connected over the little things. Go back with me, Leah. Remember a time before when you were safe. I promise nothing will touch you again. I’m your safe place to fall, Leah. You are strong, but you are not alone. Find you again, hold onto the woman you were before, and know that I still stand here for her and for the woman you are today. Just don’t give up.
Like working on a car, sometimes life gets tricky. When a part doesn’t slide right back into place, you have to loosen things up, grease them, and gently get the engine running again. You are wound too tight, Leah. Gently allow yourself to loosen up and know that I’m a patient man who’s not going anywhere. I need you to see, to know, to feel you are strong, beautiful, and absolutely amazing. Need you present with me, babe.
Ty”
“Going back to where it started,” I explain. “With words down on paper, we built a bond. You’re beautiful and smart. I need you to come back to me.”
She gasps, “Green.”
“I’m takin’ you out.”
Her wide eyes and open mouth shocked expression shouldn’t make me want to laugh. But it’s like I asked her to go Mars and have dinner with the alien queen in her hut of fireballs. She hasn’t been out of the house since we got here and she needs to, but tonight isn’t that night. Therefore, I brought the outside in for her.
Sidestepping her, her hand goes to her mouth, her other arm protectively going around her midsection as she looks to where I’m standing. “You did this?”
Her shower took ages. I could’ve had a turkey in the oven for as long as she was in there. But bringing that up, because she thinks she’s dirty, isn’t going to happen. She’s beautiful the way she is. Yes, there are some scars on her face and her hair is lightly coming back in, but she pulls it back gently and ties it at the nape of her neck. Therefore, the patches are somewhat covered. She could be completely bald and she’d be just as beautiful as ever.
“Nope, had some elves come in and work their magic.”
This earns me a small smile opening my worldwide. I’ve missed her and with each ticking second that goes by, when she doesn’t talk to me or when she goes into the bathroom for long periods of time, everything makes me miss her more. This right here. Makes it all worth it. Yes, Bristyl got a small laugh out of her, but I got the smile and damn if it doesn’t make me want to get Bristyl here to crack Leah open with me.
Her voice is soft. “Well the magic elves are welcome here.”
“Come sit.”
She sits and stares at the table in amazement, when in reality it’s nothing huge. Definitely not enough of what she deserves, but I’m working with what I’ve got here. “The table has a candle, Green.”
“It does? How the hell did that get there?” Making my way over to the stove, I load up her plate with pasta, sauce, and bread then make my way over to her, sitting the food on the table.
Her shoulders visibly fall, but not in defeat—the opposite, telling me I’m doing the right thing. These little reassurances are what keep me going. “This looks great.”
Going back to fill my plate, I say, “It’s not fancy, but it gets the job done.” Moving to the table, I take the seat across from her. I can’t stop myself from watching her as she eats. The line that’s always between her eyes when she squints is loose and relaxed. She appears lighter in a way, and it’s a great look on her.
“Well, it’s delicious.” She pulls in another bite, chews, and swallows. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
“That’s because you live on less food than a rabbit.”
“I do not. I just haven’t been hungry.” She trudges on the territory where I do not want this night to go. Yes, I still want her to talk to me, but tonight the goal is to remind her of who she was before this happened. I’m just making this shit up as I go along. Hell, I’ve never been with a woman long enough to have to deal with something as horrible as what she went through, let alone cared enough to make it better.
Or damn well try.
Leah sets her fork down. “I don’t know how to do this, Green.”
“Do what? Eat?”
“Ha, ha. I don’t know.” She flicks a hand between us. “This. Whatever this is. You being here when you don’t have to be. Why did you stay at the hospital for that long? My parents were there. I know you have a life, and it’s not here in Florida. And why won’t you leave now?” She pushes again even after the letter. I know she’s scared, but she has to know I’ll catch her if she falls.
“Eat,” I order, pointing my fork in her direction and motioning to her plate. “And I’ll talk. You’ll listen, and we’ll get some things ironed out.”
After too long of a damn pause, she resumes eating all the while looking warily. Everything comes at me in a flash. Go hard. Go slow. Be gentle. Be hard. In my head it’s bundled up but, I sort it all out quickly.
“I stayed because I wanted to. You remember the letter I wrote you about doing what I want, when I want?” She blots her mouth with a napkin, nodding. “That’s what this is, Leah. I want to be here, so I’m here. No way in hell I was leaving you after what I saw.”
Something flashes over her eyes and a wall comes down hard like cement, blocking her from me. I have no idea what I said that made her shut down, but she has and I’m pissed at myself for it.
12
Leah
After what he saw. The words roll around in my head burrowing deeper and deeper into my soul, blackening part of it. This is pity. This is him being the man he is–taking care of someone because that’s the kind of man he is.
I’m a duty.
I’m a responsibility.
I’m a job.
Part of me wonders if this has to do with Bristyl and Cooper. Surely, Cooper wouldn’t order Green to stay with me all this time. I’m sure he’s wanted back at the clubhouse. But he won’t leave, and now, after what he saw, he can’t unsee it. Neither of us can.
The blackness whirls around me and that feeling of falling intensifies. I can almost see that damn cat smiling at me and the clock ticking away the moments of my life.
“What did I say?” he asks, not giving me the space I so desperately want. He can’t fix this, so there’s no need for him here.
Scooting the chair away from the table, I rise. “Nothing, but you need to go home.” He goes to deny me, but I hold my hand up. Surprisingly, he silences. “I wish I could bleach it out of my body and wipe everything away, but I can’t. It’s there and will always be there. There is nothing you can do here. I’m not worth the time or the effort, Green.”
He cuts me off, rising and tossing his napkin onto the table, “How about you let me decide if you’re worth it. How about you let me decide when I want to go back to Sumner. How about you let me decide why I’m here and what I’m doing. You don’t get to decide that for me, Leah. You knew the man I was the moment you sat next to me on that park bench, holding you. You knew the man I was with the letters. You knew the man I was with the phone calls and texts. And you damn sure know the man I am when we’re together.”
Green moves over to me, and I have to look up to meet his eyes. “Why?” I whisper, almost unable to get it out.
“In case you missed it, Leah, I care a fuck of a lot about you. When I got that call, my world stopped. In that moment everything stopped. Just know that I have your back no matter what.”
There was more he wasn’t telling me, but I didn’t want to talk so I couldn’t begrudge him either. Besides, what he said was sweet, kind, and caring.
“Know you want me to go. I’m not, Leah. Unless you want to get on the bac
k of my bike and ride out with me, I’m not going.”
This gives me pause, a long one. Go with him? To Sumner? He’s really lost his mind this time. I don’t feel safe in the town I grew up in, how the hell am I going to feel safe somewhere else? My head shakes back and forth, the words lost in my throat.
“Right.” He pulls me into his body and wraps his warmth around me. I burrow into his chest, feeling his warmth and his strength. Yes, he deserves someone better. Someone who can give him what he just gave me. It sickens me that I can’t and never will.
My hands are strapped to the bed with rope. The knife glistens off the light. It pierces through my flesh, and I scream.
“Leah!” My name comes through the fog, and I move to it because I know that voice. I used to dream about it and crave it even if it were over a phone line.
“Leah, baby. Wake up!” he demands. The darkness of the dream has me in its clutches and it’s like trying to get through heavy smog with sticky glue on my feet, but I wade through pulling to the voice.
My body shakes and I’m almost there. I reach. “Leah!”
Thunderous eyes stare back at me through the moonlit room. Green turns on my bedside lamp, and I blink to adjust to the light. All the while the dream slowly recedes, letting me go from its grasp.
“Leah, talk to me.”
Wiping away the dream, his eyes change to concern. Not concerned with the outcome, I wrap my arms around him and burrow myself into his body. The realization hits that this is really my life. Nightmares. Hot showers. Not leaving my place. Fearing the phone even ringing. Jumping when the mailman knocks on the door. All of it is me now, and I break down in Green’s arms that he wraps around me.
The sobs are silent but deadly. This isn’t how my life is supposed to be. Getting brutally attacked was never in the cards, but it came and now the deck is thrown up in the air, falling to the floor in a huge mess that I have no idea how to pick up. Yet, Green is here. Holding me. Letting me cry. Reassuring me.
“It’s never going to go away,” I whisper into his chest, not knowing if he can hear me and not sure if I want him to.
“Each day that goes by, it’ll get better. You’ll learn to live with it, carry it close to the vest, learn from it, and live the life you’re meant to live.”
He takes my silence as a nudge to keep going.
“Shit happens in life. Most of it we can’t change, but what we have control over we take it. That gives us the power. But sometimes things happen to good people. When that happens, it makes it harder to move forward because your life before was pretty easy going.”
I hiccup, loving that he remembers me before, yet scared he knows me now.
“You worked hard in school, but everything was fun and laidback. Inside, you still are. Have you changed, yep. Does that mean I don’t want to be right where I am? Nope.”
Tilting my head up, I admit, “I don’t like who I changed into, and I don’t know how to get her back.”
“Day by day. Step by step. And I’m here every step of the way.”
“I don’t deserve you,” is the last thing I remember before falling asleep.
The shower is running as I open my eyes noting Green is gone. Or as gone as he’ll give me at the moment. For the past week, I haven’t said anything about Green leaving again. While I still believe he deserves better than me, I also came to the realization that he’s a grown ass man and if he wants to stay and put up with my ass—more power to him. It’s not worth the extra energy to keep fighting it.
It’s nice having him here knowing he won’t let anything happen to me. Not like a watchdog or anything, but a protector because he wants to be. I have yet to ask him if Cooper put him up to it, but I fear the answer so I don’t ask.
I also fear tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day I leave this place and face the world outside, not that I want to, but because I have to. My mother came over two nights ago and determined that I need to see a counselor about what happened. That I need to talk about my feelings and find ways to cope. That it’s been too long and I have a good man at my side to battle through. There was so much more, but I tuned her out.
We argued. My father sided with her. Green sided with her. I got angry. Let them all know it, and tomorrow I’m going to therapy. At least it’s not at the hospital, and it’s a woman. Not that I have anything against men. Well, okay, I have a little bit against men except for my dad and Green. There are always exceptions to the rules.
Not only that, I’m going to see this counselor every day. Oh no, once a week isn’t enough. I’m going every day, except for weekends, starting tomorrow. The anxiety of just stepping out of my apartment is almost too much to bear. Let alone going and talking to someone. And seeing people? I really don’t want to people. But I’m doing it because I believe they are right. This cloud is over me and while it’s only been weeks, I hate the woman I’ve become. I’m not living. I’m drowning and if this woman can help just a small bit and throw me a life preserver—I’m going to take it.
You’re alive. Those words ring in my head on repeat like a broken record. I am alive. If nothing else, I need to find some way to cope with this, or I fear it’ll get worse; except, I’m not sure how much it could go down from where it is right now.
The door to the bathroom swings open, and Green walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist. His tattoo covered chest stares back at me, with ridges, valleys, and hills everywhere. As he uses another towel to dry his hair, his muscles bulge and pull. Small droplets of water trail down his chest and I watch with avid fascination until it meets the towel below, only to repeat the process.
My body feels hot and air doesn’t want to come in my lungs.
Sweat forms on my upper lip and I reach up with my tongue licking it off, just in time to catch Green’s eye. Heat flares in them as they dilate taking me in. Fascinatingly, I watch as the towel begins to rise.
He holds his arms out. “Look all you want, baby.”
Lord do I. To the point I really can’t breathe and have to clear my throat. Scrambling off the bed, I grab my robe intent on my turn in the bathroom. Not looking at Green, but I can hear him chuckling, damn him. I move to the bathroom, only a bare, strong chest blocks me as I run into it.
“I…” I clear my throat once again. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Green’s finger comes below my chin as he looks down at me. God, he’s gorgeous. He’s the man that women see on the movie screens and melt into a pile of day-old slurpies. He probably should’ve tried for an acting career. He could’ve made big money with that face and body. Hell, the bones in his jaw and nose are so on point, I’m pretty sure I could measure everything and it would be perfect.
Everything except his hands. Now, they’re pretty clean, but normally they are tinged black around his nails, some of the oil left behind from working in the garage. I wonder if he misses it. His job. His home. His life.
I shake those thoughts away just as Green says, “I’m going to kiss you, Leah. You good with that.”
Sweat beads on my forehead, and my body trembles. My heart is taking off like a jet while fear snakes down my spine. Kiss me? Why does he even want to touch me? Doesn’t he see the dirt and filth surrounding me?
He doesn’t give me time to process because his lips are on mine. Terror grasps me and my lips won’t move. This doesn’t stop Green though. Through gentle touches of his lips to mine, he continues kissing me. My body heats.
Hesitantly, I lift my hand caressing his cheek, my lips slowly giving in to the pleasure instead of the fear. Somehow, Green’s touch has made it slip away.
He groans, pulling me closer to his body, his heat burning me beautifully. Something blossoms in my chest as we continue to kiss, never touching or going any further.
When he pulls away, I’m breathless, and his eyes are demanding and intense.
With a shaky breath, “I need to take a shower,” I say, needing the escape.
His smirk is gorgeous. “Yeah.” He steps ba
ck slightly. “Leah, had my taste again after a long drought, I’m gonna want it again.” He sees me tremble. “You’re beautiful. Every damn thing about you, and I’m going to make sure you remember it.”
My chest constricts as I rush into the bathroom, shutting the door and sliding down it. I want to believe him, but it’s just not coming. Thumping my head back, I close my eyes and wish that things were different. That no one had touched me and soiled me. Why does life have to be so rough?
13
Green
Her taste lingers on my lips hours later. When our lips touched, she was so scared, but I expected it—planned on it. It’s why I didn’t let her off the hook when she first didn’t respond. Once she did, it was like our first kiss all over again, and I felt it all the way to my toes.
Kissing has never been my thing. Yeah, I do it to get a woman there, but it does nothing for me. Leah though. Does it for me. It took forever to will my cock down. I may be pushing her, but she’s not ready for that yet, even if he is.
She sits curled up against me while the television plays absently. That’s all we seem to do, and it’s getting old.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
Her breathing changes as her arms go around her body nervously as she puts a small distance between us. She’s going to turn me down and build that wall up guarding herself. She can have that play… with everyone but me.
“I…”
Not wanting her to say another word, I move fast grasping her hand and rising. She resists, but only momentarily. “Baby, know how much you want on that bike. You told me yourself.”
“I don’t know if I can.” These words stop us, well me more then her. The fear coming off of her could light a football field, like going out of these doors, she’s not safe. Even by my side, where I wouldn’t let a damn thing touch her, she still has the trepidation.
“You can and you will. My Leah is in there, and we’re going to find her.”
