Under the Cornerstone

by Sasha Marshall

  “Why in the fuck are you answering Johnny’s phone?” she asks.

  Carrie.

  “Hold on,” I tell her as I begin to recall the very reason I fought this thing with Johnny in the first place.

  I place my hand on Johnny’s chest and shake him awake.

  “Yeah?” he asks half asleep.

  I place the phone on his chest and climb from under the covers. I need a minute. I need to wake up and process instead of freaking out.

  “Hello?” he answers.

  I can hear Carrie screaming from the two steps I’ve taken away from the bed.

  I continue my path to the bathroom to hide out and have a mini-breakdown.

  “Fuck you,” he seethes and then I see the phone fly across the room.

  Shit. I keep going.

  “No running, Noe. No fucking running from me,” he says and moments later his arms wrap around my stomach.

  He picks me up and drags me back to the bed, where he falls back with my back landing against his chest. I’m quickly rearranged until I’m under him and he’s looking down into my eyes.

  “I fucking told you, Noely. You can’t keep running away from me over these insignificant little cunts. I’m where I want to be. I’m with the woman I love. You fucking trust me. You fucking love me. Yeah?” he says and then pushes inside of me with no warning.

  His head drops down to the center of my neck and lips drag across the area.

  “Who am I inside of?” he asks me.

  “Me.”

  “Who did I chase after?”

  “Me.”

  “How far did I let you get?”

  “Maybe ten steps.”

  “Never chased after another woman,” he growls.

  He thrusts inside of me with purpose as if last night didn’t show me exactly how he felt about me. It feels like he’s fucking his love into me. He’s rougher than he was before with a look of determination on his face that matches the vibe he’s giving off.

  “I fucking love you,” he says and leans down to kiss me.

  Our tongues dive inside, which sparks something inside of me. I lift my hands and hold his face in them while our faces move and adjust to different angles throughout the kiss. Sweat drips from his forehead onto my face as he exerts himself. He plunges into me so deeply, my body inches up the bed from the sheer force.

  He places his hands palm down on the mattress and raises his body above mine as he continues to pummel me. I slide my hands down his toned back and grab onto his ass so I can feel the flex of his muscles each time he drives forward.

  I continue to inch up the bed while the sounds of skin slapping and rapid breathing fills the air. The veins bulge in his arms and neck as he works me over. When my head begins to hit the headboard, I raise up and place my lips and tongue all over his chest, neck, and shoulders. My body continues to move up the bed, even though there’s nowhere for me to go. His mouth releases, hot breaths against my forehead, and then he moans out in pleasure with me.

  When my body literally can’t move any further up the bed, he warns me, “Hold on, Noe.”

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tighten my legs around his waist. A hand comes up to hold the back of my head as he lifts me up and pushes my back against the headboard. He positions himself on his calves with his knees bent, and places his free hand on my hip. He buries his tongue in my mouth as he pivots like a jackhammer inside of me. My body bounces on top of him like I’m being impaled. He fucks me hard and bare, but it isn’t meaningless sex. It’s full of passion and desperation on both of our parts.

  I begin to claw at his shoulders to pull him closer, because he isn’t close enough. Our chests touch, but it isn’t close enough. Fuck, it isn’t close enough. I wrap one hand around the back of his head, and the other at the center of his shoulder blades and pull at him. I pull at him to get closer.

  He breaks the kiss, “I’m right here, Noe.”

  “I know,” I moan.

  “That’s it. Fuck me, the sounds you make.”

  “Kiss me,” I demand and he presses his lips painfully hard against my already swollen lips.

  The hand on my hip moves and then his thumb presses against my clit.

  “Fuck!” I hiss into his mouth.

  His tongue continues to move around in my mouth while I bounce on him. The hand behind my head moves to cup my right breast that bounces along with my body.

  I scream out his name as I come hard. My vision blurs and every nerve in my body explodes. His sweat-soaked body continues to pound into me while the headboard sounds in protest against the rigorous force.

  “I’m coming inside you,” he says into my mouth.

  “Please,” I ask for it.

  “Fuck, Noe,” he calls out and closes his eyes. His mouth parts once again like it does on stage, and he breathes into my mouth.

  I continue to hold him tightly against me as he fucks through the remainder of his orgasm.

  “Pussy fits me like a glove,” he murmurs.

  I break the kiss so he can catch his breath. He buries his face in the crook of my neck while we both inhale and exhale harshly. I can feel his heart beating through my own chest. His come once again leaks out around us both, but neither of us can be bothered to give a fuck.

  “Did I hurt you?” he finally asks.

  I smirk even though he can’t see it, “No.”

  “You smiling, Noe?” he asks with a smile in his own voice.

  “Maybe.”

  He pulls his head from my neck and looks at me with a smirk, “You’re smiling.”

  “Maybe.”

  His tongue snakes out of his bottom lip, “I made that smile, Noe.”

  “Yeah. You did.”

  “I want to do that every day, yeah?”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me,” I coo.

  “I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful, but covered in our sweat, my come inside you, a lazy smile, and your hair soaked in sweat… that’s so beautiful there aren’t words to describe it. You look so goddamn peaceful.”

  I smile at him, “I am.”

  He leans his forehead down to mine, “Me too.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose, and then takes us to the bathroom to clean up. Once we’re clean, we climb back into bed and tangle ourselves in each other. He plays with the ends of my hair, which relaxes me and induces sleep.

  Right before I nod off, he speaks, “I broke things off with her. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but I let her know we weren’t seeing each other ever again. She didn’t take it so well.”

  “I think she’s a little unstable,” I reply in my sleepy voice.

  He laughs loudly, “That’s an understatement. She’s fucking psycho. That bitch is a poster child for mental health.”

  “Then what in the fuck were you doing with her?” I ask.

  He kisses my lifts softly, “Trying to forget you.”

  I don’t respond.

  “I can’t though. I can’t forget, Noe. You get me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All these months in California, did you forget?”

  “No, Johnny. I tried though. I tried like hell.”

  “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A pounding at the door is followed by shouting voices as I step out of the shower. The voices are both deep, both male. Another knock follows by more male voices. I assume it’s the rest of the guys so I wrap my hair in a towel and pull on a robe.

  As I open the door, I hear Jimmy say, “That bitch is fucking crazy.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask and all four of them turn to me with worried expressions.

  “Carrie…” Jimmy starts.

  “Nothing. Everything is fine,” Johnny interrupts him all the while shooting him a menacing glare.

  I narrow my eyes at Johnny and then turn to Jimmy, “What’s going on, Jim?”

  Jimmy opens his mou
th to speak, but Johnny attempts to cut him off, “Every…”

  “Shut up, Johnny,” I say between gritted teeth. “Jimmy?”

  “Carrie is not taking the uh… well, I guess the breakup… she’s not taking that well,” he answers.

  “And why didn’t you think I should know about this?” I ask Johnny.

  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I told you not to worry about these insignificant women.”

  I roll my eyes at him, “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s screaming, crying, and making threats. She’s hysterical,” Rich paces apparently uncomfortable.

  “She’s looking for Johnny. She can’t find him and its only making her crazier,” Ryan adds.

  “You guys are heading out day after tomorrow, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Ryan answers.

  “Lay low until then. Make sure security knows her face and don’t let her anywhere near you guys,” I solve the problem simply.

  “Um… Noe, she is like Girl Interrupted crazy. I don’t know if we can lay low for that long without her finding us,” Rich confesses.

  I wave him off and enter the bathroom to get dressed. I blow dry my hair and throw some makeup on before I head back out. Room service covers the room and the guys are pigging out like they live here.

  “They don’t have Mountain Dew here,” Ryan pouts.

  “There are some vending machines around the corner,” I tell him.

  His eyes grow as big as saucers, “Do they have Mountain Dew?”

  “Yep. I’m going to grab some ice. I’ll get you a drink while I’m there,” I smile at him.

  Johnny, Rich, and Jimmy also request a Mountain Dew and everyone digs out dollar bills for the machine. Johnny kisses me on the lips sweetly before I depart. I can still hear the boys hooting and hollering like teenage boys. I giggle as I close the door behind me.

  I press the Mountain Dew button for the sixth time and listen to it vend when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  “You fucking my boyfriend?” Carrie asks.

  I turn around to face her with my arms full of drinks, but I’m struck on the side of the head with something really fucking hard. I feel my world spin on its axis and drop the drinks. I hear one bottle spew after it hits the ground. I follow behind the bottles. Carrie’s boot feels as though it rips through several of my ribs, and then she brings down something hard on my forearm. I can’t see her or what her weapon is, but I can hear my bone snap.

  I scream out in pain. I reach out with my right hand to grab her ankle and pull her down on the floor, but my vision is blurry. I scream again as the pain shoots up my arm and through my shoulder. My ribs throb and ache as she kicks me over and over again.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” asks an unfamiliar voice.

  “Mind your own fucking business,” Carrie tells him.

  I try to whisper for help, but nothing comes out as I try to keep the screams inside.

  “Help!” the man screams. “Help! Stop fucking kicking her! Give me the bat!”

  I hear them struggle and several other voices join them, and then I begin to fade in and out only catching snippets of words and voices. I hear Carrie screaming like a banshee, but thankfully I’ve only been subjected to that for a few moments before I fade back out.

  “Noely!” I hear a familiar voice, but can’t place it.

  I extend a hand but can’t feel anyone, and then… darkness.

  I wake to my name being screamed and my body being jolted.

  “Noely, please wake up,” I hear Johnny beg.

  My eyes flutter open to find his blue eyes on me. He looks scared to death, but the background is moving behind him. I try to sit up, but can’t. I notice my vision has drastically improved.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” he tells me and then it dawns on me he’s running. “They’ve got an ambulance here. I wasn’t waiting for them to come up and get you.”

  “Okay,” I croak out.

  “Sir,” I hear several voices call out.

  “She’s hurt!” I hear Ryan yell from behind Johnny.

  “Put her on the stretcher,” a man directs.

  Johnny places me on the stretcher and looks over my body in a hurried manner as the paramedics do the same.

  “I’m fine,” I tell them and attempt to sit up.

  I push down with both hands to help myself upright, but my left arm doesn’t cooperate and the pressure of my weight causes an agonizing pain to shred through every cell in my body. I scream and pull my arm to my chest to cradle it.

  “It’s broken,” a medic states.

  The ride to the hospital is long and lonely since none of them were allowed to ride with me. I beg for pain meds as soon as I see a nurse, but I’m quickly dismissed and told I’ll have to wait for a doctor. I don’t have my cell phone, I don’t really know which hospital I’m at, and I’m by myself. I let the tears roll down my face freely as the pain and fear take over.

  After twenty minutes of sobbing quietly, a man stops and checks on me, “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I say, but refuse to make eye contact.

  “I’m a doctor. I can help. Let me get you a room and we’ll get that arm x-rayed immediately. What happened to your face?” he asks me.

  I don’t answer him, because I don’t really know what happened to my face other than… Carrie.

  “Hold on, I’ll check this chart,” he says and opens up a file on my bed. “I need a CT stat, and make sure she’s in a room when she gets back from radiology!” He yells over his shoulder.

  The doctor walks off as the vibrant colors of scrubs walk back and forth. My bed begins to move and I’m carted off to radiology. I have to wait an hour in a holding room for a CT scan, and another forty-five minutes for an x-ray of my ribs and arm.

  I have no pain medication, no one’s hand to hold, and no way of getting in touch with my friends, the only family I have. So, I sob like a child for hours. My face is soaked, my nose is stopped up, and my heart hurts. All the bullshit I’ve been through in my life, I don’t think I’ve ever been so lonely. Never.

  I also realize I don’t want to die alone. The mere thought scares me so much I keep crying. I don’t want to die somewhere one day in a hospital by myself with no one to love me. I don’t want to leave nothing behind. I want to leave love behind. I want someone who loves me more than anything else in this world to hold me when I leave this world. It’s morbid, but clarity can often come from trauma. Whatever was holding me back from pursuing a relationship with Johnny evaporates with the tears that roll off my face and dry on my shirt.

  I want it to be him that holds my hand through the good and bad. He’s always been the one doing it anyway. I want it to be him that I lay next to each night. I want to spend every minute possible loving him and when my time comes I want to know I spent my life loving a person who loved me unconditionally. He’s always loved me unconditionally anyway. It was always supposed to be him. I see that now.

  I’m wheeled back to the emergency room when I hear four men I love raising holy hell.

  “What do you mean you don’t know where the fuck she is?!!” Johnny yells.

  “Look in her goddamn chart!” Jimmy follows.

  “I swear to God, I’m suing this place for losing her. Fucking find her now!” Ryan adds.

  “Noely,” Rich is the first to see me and I break down again.

  Johnny pushes a bunch of charts onto the floor to make his final point to the nurses and then jogs with me. All four of them surround the bed, and the man pushing it politely asks them to let him push me in the room and then I’m all theirs. Surprisingly, they don’t give him a hard time.

  Moments later, I’m in a small room and the guys rush my bed. I push up off the bed and lunge at Johnny. I wrap my good arm tightly around his neck and hold on for dear life. My ribs protest, but right now I can ignore them. He holds me just as tightly, but helps guide me back down t
o the bed. There are so many things I need to tell him right now. I need to say things to him that are overwhelming my heart to the point it might explode.

  “I got you,” he whispers while I sob into his chest.

  The doctor comes in and Johnny pulls away from me, but I grab a handful of his shirt and plead with my eyes.

  Please don’t leave me.

  Maybe it’s the epiphany. Maybe it’s the adrenaline and emotions, but I don’t want him to be out of my reach.

  Dr. Carson announces the ulna bone is broken in my left arm and needs to be set and cast. Nothing abnormal shows on the CT Scan, but my blurred vision, headache, and nausea are all symptoms of a Grade Two concussion. Before I can ask for pain meds, Jimmy demands I have something for it.

  Moments later a nurse returns with a syringe and injects it into my IV. I have no idea what the woman gave me, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. A warming sensation flows through my body. I close my eyes and let it course through my veins and take the edge off the pain.

  I beg for Johnny to go with me to have my arm set and cast, and without much fight they allow it. Setting your bone apparently requires a doctor to snap it back in place. It wasn’t pleasant, and I muffled my screams by biting into Johnny’s shoulder.

  He held me as close as he could and whispered words of encouragement, “You’re doing good, Noe. I’m so sorry. I’m here. Hurt me back. It’s almost over. So tough, Noles. I love you.”

  The last three words were all the encouragement I really needed.

  The doctor keeps me overnight for observation and then releases me the next morning. Everyone is quiet and somber as we drive back to my hotel room. Johnny gets me inside while the guys fill my pain medicine, and I doze off and on until they return with something to take the edge off the pain.

  Each time I wake Johnny is staring at me with those stark blue eyes.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him.

  “I’m just making sure you don’t stop fucking breathing,” he says with anger in his voice.

  “It’s not your fault, Johnny.”

  He breaks eye contact at those words, turns his head, clenches his jaw, and doesn’t respond.