SAVAGE: The Kingwood Duet

by Scott, S. L.

  “Are you going to wear that?” she asks, doodling on a random page in my physics textbook.

  Looking down, I grimace. “Well, I was going to. It’s all I have.

  “I have something cuter.”

  I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “I don’t need cuter. I need warmth.”

  “I think Alexander will warm you up just fine.”

  “Shelly,” I reprimand while staring at her in shock.

  “He’s hot. You do realize that, right? And he’ll be more than happy to keep you warm. I see how he looks at you.”

  I turn back to the window, embarrassment replacing the chill. Curious, I ask, “How is it?”

  “The look?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like you’re everything.”

  Our eyes hold steady as the words drift between us. Feeling the heaviness of her tone, I pull the sweater tighter around me, the buttons folding in on themselves. “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth. But I have a feeling you haven’t told me everything.”

  “I have.”

  “A boy doesn’t look at a girl he barely knows like that.”

  “How do you know?” I meet her eyes again.

  “Because I’m not dumb, Sara Jane. What’s really going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Love floats around my head, but I sweep it away. “I want to say I like him, but I don’t know him.”

  “He seems to know you.” She turns and picks up her jacket before putting it on. “Look, if you really don’t know him, be careful. He seems to have intentions for you even though you’ve only just learned his last name.”

  Kingwood—His last name.

  King—His preferred name.

  “I’ll be careful.” I smile, the mood lightening between us. “But you do the same. Chad seems nice, but don’t get yourself in trouble.”

  “What’s the fun in that?” She smiles, her bubbly self back intact as we sneak out of the house. Down the street, two unlikely people have become friends. Alexander and Chad are waiting for us on Chad’s tailgate.

  Chad is in our grade and finally made the move to talk to Shelly instead of staring at her another year. Shelly may be boy crazy, but more than that, she’s Chad crazy. He’s cute with curly dark blond hair, trendy dark-framed glasses, and his body finally caught up to his age. I think every girl noticed him this year, but he still only had eyes for one. His dream girl became his girlfriend and they’ve been an item ever since.

  Alexander hops off and walks to meet us halfway when we round the corner, making my heart flutter from the thrill. It may be cool out tonight but looking at him, watching his swagger and confidence in full effect walking straight toward me, heats me on the inside.

  “Hey,” he says, taking my hand in his and kissing me on the cheek.

  “Hi.”

  Shelly wraps her arms around Chad’s neck, and they kiss like they’ve dated longer than a few weeks. But what do I know about couples and how they kiss? I had a terrible kiss at fifteen and never tongue deep. Looking into the elusive Mr. Kingwood’s eyes as they shine from the streetlight above, I’m hoping to change that.

  Shelly turns to us with a big grin, and asks, “Where should we go?”

  And the kissing moment passes just like that, the bubble popped.

  Everyone turns to Alexander, his presence naturally commanding attention and authority. A rush of pride runs through me, my heart reacting by thudding louder in my chest.

  Alexander says, “Here’s good. Just in case her parents come out looking, we’ll be close.”

  Shelly’s disappointment is heard in her huff. “I was hoping we’d go somewhere.”

  Chad adds, “I think King is right.” His use of King weighs the final decision as if there’s not a discussion to be had. “We can listen to some music in the cab, if you want?”

  Listening to music means making out, but it’s a good effort on their part to play it off. Nodding, Shelly says, “I’d like that.”

  Alexander shoves his hands in his pockets, and eyes me. “Want to go for a walk?”

  “Sure.” My response must show my disappointment as well. I know I shouldn’t want to, but he’s got my stomach tied up in knots. It’s like the slowest burn ever. My insides hot like an inferno for him. Why does he torture me so?

  “Stop torturing that lip.” He angles down in front of me and grins. “We have time, Sara Jane.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Everything that you’re so disappointed we’re not doing.” Lifting my chin so we’re looking into each other’s eyes, he whispers, “We have time: hours, days, and years. I promise you.”

  “You’re making me a promise of years?”

  “I made that promise long before now. We have all the time in the world to sin together.”

  He makes me strong, his strength bleeding into my veins. “Is that what you are, Alexander? Are you a sin waiting to happen?”

  “I’m a sin waiting to be confessed.”

  “Then take me to church because I want to kiss you.”

  Nothing less than what can be called a smirk shapes his lips. The cup of his palms flatten to my cheeks. “I’ve been told you’re bad for me, but you’re so damn good for my ego.” In a sudden rush of passion, his mouth crashes over mine, and I’m lost to the bliss of his lips. When his tongue pushes into my mouth, I freeze. My eyes go wide, and if he wasn’t holding me in place, I would have vanished in this moment of horror. Tilting back to look into my eyes, his brows curve in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I try to back away but his hold on my shoulders tightens.

  “Tell me what’s wrong?”

  “I just . . . I don’t . . .” I look down, wanting to run away, to hide from the humiliation I feel.

  “You don’t what, Sara Jane?”

  Tears burn hot in my eyes. I will them away before they fall, making me even more self-conscious than I already am. My bottom lip quivers and my inexperience cause the tears to overlap my lids. I close my eyes, and whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  I’m brought to his chest, his arms wrapping around my back. With my cheek pressed to his chest, I lower my head, and breathe him in to calm my upset heart. “I’m sorry,” he whispers with his lips to the back of my head. “I’m sorry. I’ll go slower next time.” A kiss is placed where his breath just left. “You’re so pure, my little firefly. Happy birthday.”

  “Firefly?” I ask on a shaky breath that trails into calm.

  “That’s what you are to me.”

  I must look a complete mess with mascara running down my face, but his words comfort me and make me feel cherished. Good or bad, I like the way he makes me feel carefree and loved, like I matter. Not holding back anymore, I look up and ask, “Why me?”

  . . . Squeezing me tighter, he kisses me on the head. Good and evil sometimes blur just like black and white, leaving us in the gray. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to heaven or hell because the night of my eighteenth birthday, I decided I’d be right by his side, happy to live in the gray as long as I have him.

  7

  Sara Jane

  For as much as Alexander has shared with me over the years, he’s kept a lot hidden. I often wondered if he’d done that because he wanted to protect me or if something worse was lurking in his sadness.

  I lie still, so still, as he slips out of bed and walks to the French doors that lead to a large balcony overlooking the grounds. He has a ritual. Time on the balcony in the moonlight—I used to think he found peace under the stars, but his unrest overtook most nights and soon he started leaving for a few hours. Not every night, but three or four, depending on his restlessness. I was rarely asleep, but I pretended to be. Just like now.

  He moves with assurance, every step taken with purpose. When I met him, he oozed confidence, but I discovered that he didn’t know who he was. It was as if his mother’s death had caused him to lose track of himself. He ma
de me feel safe and secure, taken care of, and loved. He was never unsteady around me. But I would catch him lost in his own thoughts when he assumed I was studying. I remember a night when music played softly in the background, a fire flamed in the fireplace, my books were scattered on the coffee table, and his room was dim with the heaviness of his mood, he stood in the open doorway that led to the balcony. The anguish seemed to cover him like a cloak, his shoulders sagging and his head seeming too cumbersome to hold up. Alexander leaned against the railing and closed his eyes . . . “Kingwood Enterprises is the only thing left of my mother.”

  “You’re left of her.”

  “No.” He laughed, looking up at the night sky. “I’m all bad, just like my dad.” Glancing over his shoulder back at me, he sighed. “When are you going to see the real me, Sara Jane?”

  “I see the real you every time I see you. This is who you are. I don’t know why you think you’re so bad when all I see is the good.”

  With a smile on his face, he turns around, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re the smartest decision I ever made. You know that?”

  “Yes,” I say, feeling sassy. “Now come and kiss me.”

  “You’re so demanding when you get compliments.”

  “You like it.”

  Hopping over the arm of the couch, he lands with a thud next to me sending my textbooks to the floor. “I do like it. A lot.”

  That was a good kiss. A kiss that went from chaste to more in seconds. I still remember it so clearly.

  Alexander may not have known who he was at the time, but he knew who he was going to be. I often wonder if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy or falling into a trap set long before he was born. There are a lot of ghosts haunting this manor and I don’t intend to let him be the next.

  Tonight, his secrets are protected by a solid wave of muscle that rolls over broad shoulders, crashing down strong arms. I turn over to get a better look at him before he disappears outside. He’s been working out a lot more lately. He says it’s to get rid of pent-up energy. I think it might be preparing for battle.

  I’m tired after a long day of school and studying late at the library. Making love wore me out even more after we had dinner in bed. I move up so my back is against the headboard and my arms around my knees. The sheet covers most of my body, but my shoulders are exposed and cold. Just when I’m about to sink back down under the covers, I look up to find Alexander watching me. “I thought you were asleep,” he says.

  “You weren’t here.”

  A wry grin lifts the right side of his mouth, and he comes back to me. “Since when do you need me to sleep?”

  “I always need you, Alexander.”

  Coming around to my side of the bed, he sits, resting his arm around my legs. “My father is selling Kingwood Enterprises.”

  “What? Really?”

  “I thought it would be mine one day.”

  Leaning forward, I rest a hand on his leg and kiss his shoulder. “I thought you didn’t want it.”

  “I want it. I don’t want to run it, but I want it. It’s my legacy.”

  When I straighten my legs, he moves down until his head is resting on my lap. I stroke my fingers through his hair. “Why is he selling it?”

  “I don’t know. He blindsided me in front of some guys he’s hired to help restructure and sell it off in pieces.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, failing to find anything that will reassure him.

  “I’ve been thinking about why it bothers me when I’ve never liked being there. My mother gave him her trust fund to start the company.” I don’t realize I had stopped moving my hand until he looks up at me. “I feel like she’s slipping away from me.”

  Running my fingers gently over his temples, I whisper, “She’s with you, Alexander. Always.”

  “She gave everything up for him. Her last name. Her money. Her love. And I hate that it was never enough for him. He always wanted more, like all her time, her attention, and everything she had. It was never enough for him. He consumed her like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. And then she was gone. The photos went away, her items disappeared from view. The curtains were drawn, and I was left on my own.”

  “You had me.”

  The smallest of smiles appears, but I catch it. “Yes, Firefly, I had you.”

  “You have me.”

  He kisses my bare leg while the feel of his arm tightens around me. “Since she’s been gone, the company is the only tangible part of her in this world.”

  “There’s still Kingwood Manor.”

  “She hated this place.” A small, but discernible smile creases his mouth before disappearing again just as quickly. “She complained it was too big for two people, and when I came along my father used to demand she stay in their room when all she wanted to do was stay in mine.”

  “Your father’s room is in the other wing.” Alexander looks at me, a shared understanding passing between us. “You had to live in this part of the house by yourself?”

  “I had a lady who worked nights to tend to me.”

  His choice of words startles me. Tend, not care. “Tend to you? I don’t even know what that means Alexander.”

  “She would cry as he pulled her out the door and made her take a pill to calm her down.”

  “That’s awful.” I look around the large room he calls his quarters. A family could live in this room it’s so big. It’s made up of a huge walk-in closet, an even larger attached bathroom, a sitting area with a couch and large screen TV, and the bed with a nightstand flanking either side of the bed frame. A vision of a crib here instead and a child, Alexander, being separated from his mother brings tears to my eyes. “Why would he make her leave?”

  “Because he needed her.”

  “You needed her,” I reply, a harsh demand in my tone.

  He nods. “I will never do to my child what he did to me.” His fingers run over the skin of my inner thigh. “My family, my wife and kids, will always come first.” Anger seeps into his tone as if he’s threatening the world with a long held vengeance.

  Maybe he is.

  A tear slips down my cheek—the sadness of his story and the fate of mine clashing in the middle of the night. “My heart hurts, Alexander. Tell me something happy.”

  “When my father would leave on a business trip, which was frequent, my mom would come in here and we’d make a pallet on the floor, watch movies, eat candy, and fall asleep. She used to sleep with a smile on her face.”

  “Because you made her happy.” I smile listening to the lightness in his voice. “It’s clear she adored you.”

  “I wonder if she smiled with my father. She used to tell me she wanted me so badly that she didn’t want to miss a minute with me.” He sits up, looking toward the open doors of the balcony. “I think my dad felt competitive with me. Jealous of me.”

  “You were a baby. He didn’t have to compete.”

  “My father will win, or he’ll annihilate anyone that threatens him or his empire.”

  “Was he always so mean?”

  “Mean? I’m not sure I’d use that term when describing him. Malicious, unforgiving, insecure, but mean seems a little light.” His eyes meet mine, unyielding when he says, “I’m a lot like him. I’ll push you away, and if you’re strong enough to stay, I’ll destroy everything I once loved about you while destroying myself in the process.” A harsh breath is sucked in, and his expression softens. “Just like he did to my mother.”

  Fear presides over me as he watches my reaction. My chest feels hollow of beats until I release a shaky breath. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong. “You tell me your family will come first, then threaten me. Your scare tactics won’t work, Alexander. I see you, the real you. I know where your heart, where your love, lies. You can believe that you’re bad, that all the good in you died when your mother did, but you’re a lot like her. You’ve just forgotten. You need to find those qualities and hold on to them. They’re the ones that will save you when you need it mo
st.”

  “I thought you were here to save me?” He kisses my neck.

  “I can’t save someone so determined to die.”

  “I don’t want to die, sweetheart.” He chuckles as he gets up and walks to the end of the bed where his clothes were discarded earlier. “Our fairy tale is just beginning.”

  Never had I confessed the dreams I’ve held captive in my heart. One day we might get the life that seems so distant from the one we’re living now. I’m not naïve. I know there’s darkness in the lightness of Alexander’s eyes. It’s always there even when his mood contradicts it. Despite that, hearing him talk about our fairy tale gives life to my dreams.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, even though I know he won’t tell me.

  Slipping on his jeans, he keeps his tone casual as if this is an everyday conversation. “I have business to take care of.”

  “It’s two thirty in the morning.”

  When his shirt slides down over his head, he says, “You should get some rest.”

  “You should too.”

  A smirk plays on his face. “If I asked you not to worry about me, could you?”

  “I don’t worry about you,” I say, lying. “I worry about the other guy.”

  His laugh befits the dark room. “What if I said there isn’t an other guy?”

  “Well, I know there’s not another girl.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know how much you love me.”

  Pulling me by the ankles, I’m left flat on my back as he crawls onto the bed over me. Playful Alexander is my most favorite.

  “You see right through me. You always have.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Go to sleep, Firefly.” When he stands, he grabs his shoes from the floor and heads to the door.

  “Alexander?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  One shoe is slipped on and then he does the other as I roll to my side and prop my head up on my arm. The door’s about to close behind him when he opens it back up. “Sara Jane?”