by Peiri Ann
I say nothing else. His attitude towards me makes me feel dejected, and the fact that he won’t look at me adds to my sadness. Him being disappointed in me and angry with me, makes me feel like I let him down, and I can’t take it.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and move closer to him. This feeling between the two of us will not last long, and he is going to look at me. I rub my hand over his neck and move my mouth near his ear.
His eyes squint and I can hear his hands grip the steering wheel tighter. “Tracey, don’t.”
“Nathan,” I whisper softly, “I’m sorry.” I kiss his earlobe and his body tenses. “Forgive me, okay? Stop this.” I kiss under it. “Sometimes I don’t think and my body doesn’t give my mind time to talk sense into it.” I move to his neck, kissing it slowly.
He exhales slowly. “Tracey, don’t.”
I continue with my kisses. “Tracey, do,” I say, muffled.
I make out with his neck, putting every emotion I have into my touch, making sure my hands make contact with his skin. They travel under his shirt, rubbing over his chest and stomach. His breathing becomes rugged.
“Just give me what I want.”
Before I realize it, we are pulled over to the side of the road and he is laying on top of me. “Don’t, Tracey.” He avoids making eye contact.
I stare at him, pulling him by his neck down to me. He doesn’t fight it, but I can tell he is reluctant. I kiss him, and hesitantly he kisses me back. I fill it with my emotions—changing his—and he concedes to it. We are only a mile from his house, surrounded by trees and the light of the moon.
Under his shirt, I touch his back, pressing his body against mine. I lift my hips and he makes a throaty sound. “Tracey, what are you doing?”
“Nathan, look at me.”
“What happens if I don’t want to?” He starts to pull back, moving from me—I don’t let him get far.
“Then I’ll make you do something you don’t want to do.”
“I don’t like the way that sounds. But I can always go for a challenge.”
I look him over. His eyes look at everything but me. “Nathan, I love you. And I know I may have a weird way of showing it, or maybe not showing it all. But this is torture. I need you.”
“But it’s not really your needing me. It’s just the bond.”
I’m not trying to hear this bond stuff. “Doubt it.”
I kiss him, before he can say anything else. Putting my feeling of want into him, changing whatever feeling he has, making him feel the way I want him to feel.
I watch his eyes move over my face. I force thoughts of me into his head, not sure if it’s working, but I know what I’m trying to do—like when he would flood my mind with thoughts of him and me, when I forgot about us or doubted him.
He blinks multiple times, confirming it is working.
I kiss him again and think of our future, pushing the thoughts into him. I think of us married, living together—with and without his family. I think of us having children. He, I, and our three kids, playing in the backyard, all smiling and laughing—two girls and a boy: the boy resembles me and the girls resemble him. He closes his eyes hard and a chill runs over his body.
“What are you doing?” he asks quietly.
Then I flash images of us—what I think we will look like—when we’re older, walking the trail with a huge dog that’s sniffing the ground. We walk hand in hand, then arm in arm.
The premonition ends with him behind me, arms wrapped around me, sitting by the water. He kisses my cheek and thanks me. Our kids walk over to us and the dog is at our side, lying in the sand.
Nathan looks into my eyes. His eyes are a bright orange and brown color. I’ve never seen it before. They are more beautiful than any other color I’ve seen on him. He blinks and they flash. I stare into them, forcing my memory to lock in the color, the look of them, and the optimism in them.
Maintaining our eye contact, he kisses me softer than he ever has.
In his pull back, he says, “I think I lost that challenge,” in a whisper as soft as his kiss.
“Any challenge with or against me, you will always win.”
“That’s the future you want with me?” he asks, just as soft.
“Or better.”
“How could it get any better than that?”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter.” I lift my head to kiss him. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
He nods. “You want to go in the house?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Scott is walking out the door when we pull into the driveway. “Scott, what’s going on?” Nathan asks, helping me out of the truck.
“I’m ready to go get Glen.” He walks up to us. “Why didn’t you tell me about Roehl? And when did he come back?”
“You weren’t well-enough to speak with, and I’m not sure.”
Scott looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I answer.
“So what time are we leaving?” Scott asks.
“When you’re finished with Glen.”
“Well, I better get going. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
“Take your time. I’ll be with her. But reach out to me, don’t knock on my door. I don’t want everyone to know we’re going—just you, Olar, and myself.”
“Got it.” Scott takes off at a run.
“So he’s not going to drive to the hospital?” I ask.
“Looks like he isn’t.” Nathan looks back at me. “Let’s go in the house.”
In his room, Nathan goes to the bathroom and turns on the shower, and I follow behind him. “So what are we going to do?”
“Let me worry about it. I’ll know more after we talk tonight. Then I’ll decide what I’m going to do.” He pulls two towels.
“And what are your choices now?”
“Live or die.” He turns back to me.
“For him, right?”
He gives me a stern look. “Who else?” He bends down, taking off my shoes, then the rest of my clothes. “Get in.”
I do, and I hear him walk from the bathroom. I let the hot water run over me, washing off today—all of today. It was full of so much…so much fighting, pain, and hurt. I’m really ready for it all to be over.
Nathan joins me, turning on the rain showerhead over us. He kisses the top of my head, then my shoulder that was hurt. I turn, facing him. He takes my face, kissing my mouth. He washes me and I him. I want to say so much, but the silence is consuming.
He picks me up, turns off the water, and—all at the same time—grabs the towels and puts himself in me, while laying us on the bed.
“Don’t feel like anything that happened today was your fault. And I shouldn’t have let you feel like you had to apologize to me.”
My mouth opens for words, but lets out a moan. “I love you, Tracey, and your vision of our future.” He pulls back from me and kisses down my body, taking his time on my sensitive spots, until he makes it to his destination.
My body chills, craves, and desires him more. I grip the sheets, his hands, and his arms. I moan against the pleasure and my body fills with pressure. He stops, lying back against my body, putting himself back where he was.
It’s aggressive, yet full of desire, love, want, and need. He looks at me with new eyes. I stare into them and I see my desired future with him, and then I see how I look to him. Being in his head takes me to a new level. He sees me as more than what I am and what I present. I’m the world to him, crowding every corner of his mind.
Something about mixing this kind of love with sex makes everything more intense.
“Nathan—” His name comes out with a moan. “Don’t do that to me anymore.”
He moves his head near my neck, increasing his speed. “I’m sorry.” He moves harder.
I fall deeper. I turn him over, returning his slower, faster, deeper, longer.
He moans against me, grabbing tightly, then letting go, when he thinks he is gripping too hard. He is everywher
e, hand and hand, moan and moan, body to body.
He turns me back over. His hands make acquaintance with my back, then in my hair on the back of my head. I pull at the sheets and bite at the pillows until I can take no more.
He leaves too quickly for the bathroom, and then comes back. “Can I lose it?” he asks in a low voice.
I turn to look at him, immediately craving more. He is standing there in all his bareness. The moonlight glistening off him, his hair fallen over his forehead. I nod, rubbing my neck to calm me down.
He goes to the closet, coming back within a second. He loses it. Not an inch of me goes without shaking when we finish. I feel refreshed and unrestricted. Whatever happened today is gone, and I have a new, better outlook on this life.
He pulls back the covers, lying under them with me.
“You’re about to leave, aren’t you?” I ask, preparing myself to watch him go.
“You don’t want me to?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
“If you want me to stay, Tracey, I will.”
“When did your eyes start turning that color?”
“Some type of orange?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure.” He pulls me closer.
“Why do you waste your time fighting people?”
“What are you asking?”
“The question I asked.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Because if I just go around turning people into dust, everyone will know I can do that. It’s mostly used as a last resort, unless they piss me off.”
“So are you about to leave?”
“Yeah. Scott got here about 45 minutes ago. But he hasn’t let me know he is ready yet. Why?”
“Just asking.” I look to him. “So am I staying in here, or do I have to go to Taylor?”
“You have to go to Taylor. Or she can come up here. It’s up to you.”
I lay against him, breathing him in. “Let me get a nap first. We’re going back to my house tomorrow, and my parents are going to want to talk again.”
“We’ll work on that too.”
“So are you going to tell me what’s in the closet?”
He smiles. “Why?”
“Why not? What are you hiding?”
“If I don’t tell you, will you try to look?”
“Probably,” I answer honestly.
His smile gets wider and he shakes his head. “Do you want to see for yourself, or do you want me to tell you?”
“I’ll go look for myself. Just don’t look at me get up.”
A confused expression takes possession of his face. “What?”
“I’m serious.”
“Tracey, I have seen you naked, like, a lot.”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“Just don’t look.” I smile. “Can I see right now?”
“Yes.”
I sit up. “If it’s a dog, I’m going to add ‘seeing the future’ to my abilities.”
He laughs. “Well, there isn’t a dog in there. So I guess we’ll go ahead and put a line through that one.” He looks at the ceiling, throwing his arm over his eyes.
I slide from the bed, turning to check if he’s looking. He is and starts laughing.
“Asshole.” I run to the closet, closing the door behind me. I turn on the light and look around.
His bedroom-sized closet is full of me—well, stuff for me. It is more like split—one side for me and the other for him. From shoes, to dresses, skirts, blouses, shorts, jeans—clothes to dress up or down in. I peek my head out of the closet.
“And when did you have time to do this?”
“Are you upset about it?”
I turn the light off, rushing back to the bed. “No! Why would you hide it?”
“We had not made it official yet—if you are moving in or not. But I wanted you to have things over here, so that you’ll be comfortable.”
“Now, I have been with you every day. When did you go out and buy that stuff?”
“I cannot take credit for that. I had the person who buys my clothes buy yours.”
“You have someone who buys you clothes?”
“Yeah, sometimes…when I don’t have time.” He pulls me to lie on top of him. “How else would I have all those clothes?”
“Speaking of…what happened to all the clothes you had?” His closet was full.
“I had them put somewhere else.”
“So if I move here, this will be our room?”
“Nah, we would take a bigger room. This one would be too small for us. But we would stay here for now.”
I think this room is pretty big. “And how much bigger do the rooms get?”
“Big enough. Go ahead and take a nap. I’ll lie with you, and when you wake up, you’ll be dressed, and Taylor may be asleep next to you.”
“I don’t like it when I wake up and you’re gone.”
“Would you prefer I wake you up when I leave, and you have to watch me go?”
Probably not. “I’m not sure.”
“You’ll be fine, baby.” He yawns. “Scott said to give him an hour.”
“We should go bang on their door and tell him to ‘come on.’”
He chuckles. “Go to sleep, Tracey.”
There he is in all his ‘freak me out’ glory. Smiling at me, wanting me, requesting me to come to him—with his bright, golden eyes. I back away, until my body presses against something hard. I freeze, looking behind me. And there is Nathan.
I’m happy to see him, and hoping he’ll get rid of Roehl, take us away from him. He smiles at me, then looks back to Roehl and nods his head towards him. Confused and nervous, I start shaking my head. He nods and my feet start moving reluctantly, against my will, towards Roehl.
I fight against myself.
“Aww, Tracey, don’t be afraid. I’ll make everything okay. I promise I won’t hurt you.” Roehl wraps his cold hands and arms around me when I reach him. It doesn’t shock. It’s just cold and uncomfortable. I struggle to get away, the entire time staring at Nathan, with the same smile on his face.
He stands with his arms crossed in front of his chest, shoulders square. “Nathan, please don’t do this,” I cry, struggling against Roehl’s grasp.
I cry out for him and Roehl’s grip tightens. “Sorry, Tracey my love, but he doesn’t have a choice,” Roehl says too close to my ear, and then licks it with his acid tongue.
I cringe away and stare at Nathan looking back at me, begging him to save me, help me in any way.
Roehl’s cold hands are touching me everywhere: my face, my arms, my neck, my stomach, my hair. He is saying my name repeatedly, and I hate my name coming from his lips.
At each sound of my name, I call out Nathan’s. He never moves—never speaks. He just lets me be. “Why, Nathan? Please!”
“Tracey, get up.” I’m shaken. “Tracey, wake up.”
My eyes flutter. I’m relieved it was a dream—yet another damn dream. I turn over, throwing the covers over my head. Like Nathan said, I’m clothed. How he did it, without waking me up, we will have to talk about.
“Tracey, get up.” Glen shakes me again.
I jump up, my eyes locating her immediately. I jump on her, wrapping my arms too tightly around her neck. She laughs, hugging me back with equal strength.
“Glen, I’m so happy you’re okay.”
She doesn’t know or remember anything. I look at Taylor and she smiles. It’s weird hearing someone besides Nathan in my head out of the blue. Not even the hospital.
So what does she think happened? I ask.
She got sick and was asleep all day. I shake my head, bringing my attention back to amnesia Glen.
Scott is really going to mess this girl’s head up by erasing all her memories. I look at her freckled face. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are light.
She just doesn’t remember, so she figured she was sick and slept all day. I doubt that.
I pull back from Glen. �
�Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, much. Nathan, Scott, and their cousin are gone. I can’t remember what his name is. Taylor said we needed to come and check on you. Plus, I wanted to see you anyway. But were you having a bad dream? Or maybe you were having a sexy dream? You were calling out Nathan’s name. You just looked uncomfortable.” She gives me a worried look.
I look at Taylor, then back at her. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”
“You’re right,” Glen agrees loudly. “Come with us to the kitchen. I’m starving.” She gets up and looks around. “Nathan’s room is huge. No wonder you all spend so much time in here.” Like her and Scott weren’t just in here the other day. This girl remembers nothing.
“I know, right?” I say, getting up from the bed, with even socks on. I shake my head at her, smiling, while I put on my shoes.
Taylor comes to me and wraps her arm around mine. “You know, I know how to cook too.” I lay my head on her shoulder. She is the closest I’m going to get to Nathan.
Glen walks between us, pushing us apart, and wraps her arms around ours. She is a jealous girl friend, but doesn’t want to come off as a bitch to Taylor.
“So, what can you cook?” Glen asks. I smile, shaking my head.
Sorry about her. That’s how she is, I say to Taylor.
No need to apologize. She probably thinks I’m trying to take your friendship or something. But you’re my sister, replacing the one I lost.
Yes, I am.
She smiles at me, then answers Glen’s question, saying she will cook lamb, spinach, and rolls. Hearing her talk about food makes me hungry too.
Glen rambles about food as we walk to the kitchen. She turns to me. “So what was wrong with me anyway?”
We are all silent, neither of us knowing what to tell her. I shrug, walking to the fridge. Justin walks in and kisses Taylor’s cheek.
“Hey, Tracey,” he greets.
“Hey. So Taylor is going to make us something to eat. Are you joi— Wait.” I turn to Taylor. Why is he here?
Only the burdened deal with Roehl. Justin’s not, plus I didn’t want him to go. It may get too… She gives me a sympathetic look, realizing I know what she was going to say.
Don’t worry about it. I knew what I was getting into before I got into it.
“Tracey, you okay?” Glen asks, walking next to me.
