“I don’t know how to take you.”
He leaned back in the chair. “I imagine not.”
“When you’re around,” I stopped myself from finishing.
“Everything feels different,” he finished my thought.
I nodded.
“Angelina, I am attracted to you. I’m a man and you are a beautiful woman. As your professor, I won’t touch you though.”
I didn’t know how to take that statement. Part of me found safety in it and the other side of me felt let down.
“Then why join me?”
He smirked, “because I can’t resist you. Every look you make there is this fire in your eyes. I want to get to know you.”
Get to know me? I wasn’t in a place for anyone to get to know me because I was still getting to know myself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I went home after dinner twisted in knots. It was comforting to find out I wasn’t imaging the feelings this time. Too bad, he was my instructor so this was not going to happen. Neither of us needed this added distraction. He had a job to do and I had a course to complete.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t relax.
So I found myself in the kitchen with the memories invading again. Standing at the stove warming the milk, I remembered … and it hurt.
“My Angel,” the gravelly voice sounded from behind me in the kitchen, “shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I needed a drink,” I whispered as the butterflies returned to my belly. Nerves hit me as I feared his reaction to my being out of place.
“Nervous?” he asked as he passed me, making his way to the refrigerator.
“Some, yes,” I admitted, needing to find comfort.
I watched as he poured a cup of milk into a saucepan. Over the stove, he heated it as he added a bit of honey and a splash of vanilla. Interesting, I thought.
No one had ever cared if I slept before or not. Then it hit me like a wrecking ball. I didn’t know the last time I had gotten up in the middle of the night for anything.
Yes, I sometimes had needed to use the restroom, but I would hold it out of fear. I would need a drink and deny myself for the same reason. I had been afraid, if my father heard me wake up, he would want to do things to me. Yet, somehow, in the crazy whirlwind of time with my stranger, I had found it safe to emerge from my room at night.
This was monumental for my young mind to absorb. I felt comfortable enough to leave my room in the middle of the night. Was this what it was to leave Fallyn Valencia behind? Was this what it would be to let the memories and darkness leave me?
I gripped the counter as the emotions erupted inside. For the first time in my short life, I felt the freedom to come down to the kitchen for a cup of milk in order to return to my slumber. However, in doing so, someone—my stranger—actually cared enough to get up with me and make me a special bedtime drink.
No one had ever offered me such importance in their life to care if I was able to sleep. My stranger did, though. His actions showed me he cared. No one ever took notice of me before.
For the first time since Papa died, someone actually cared about me.
Silently, I watched in awe as he prepared my drink. Sitting at the kitchen island with me, he sipped a mug full, as did I. The warm milk with honey and vanilla calmed the butterflies fluttering like a storm in my belly. Like the liquid, a warmth covered me building from the inside out giving me the peace to relax. Once we finished, he rinsed everything in the sink then guided me to my room.
“Better, my Angel?” he asked as he tucked me in.
Feeling alone as I lay in the queen-sized canopy bed that engulfed me and not wanting to be alone, I whispered, “Please stay.”
The milk warmed as I fought back the tears, and I added the honey with a splash of vanilla. Taking a sip, I let the memories of Giano comfort me.
He was my safe place to fall.
What was life going to be like without him? How could I really go on? Why couldn’t life cut me a break? Why did he have to leave me?
I was drowning in the pain again. I wanted it all to end. I looked to the counter. I had a knife set. A fancy one from a specialty kitchen store. Alanzo made sure my apartment was filled with everything I could need and more.
Moving to it, I picked up the large chef’s knife. The stainless steel handle was heavy in my hand. The blade flashed a bit under the kitchen light.
I held it up. I brought it down stopping just before the blade reached the skin of my wrist.
I lifted it again.
My wrist was unmarked, unscarred, and soft, smooth, ready for a quick slice.
Tears began to fall from my face.
I was losing this battle. The dark place inside me was winning.
I managed to get by telling myself in school I would learn how to cope. Some days, like today, I had to tell myself to fake it ‘til I made it. Oh how I wish I was in the very bed wrapped up in him. But life didn’t allow me that.
I looked at the clock on the stove. It was two in the morning. I needed to rest, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Shawn’s hazel eyes studying mind. I lifted the knife higher. I brought the blade down …
My phone rang, I jumped dropping the knife with a clank to my countertop as I looked to the screen.
“Uncle Zozo,” I greeted warmly getting my breathing under control. He didn’t need to be burdened with me. Guilt washed over me.
If I succeeded, he would have to clean up my death. He had cleaned up enough in his life. I couldn’t do that to him after he had been there for me in my grief. I shook my head trying to wash out the negative thoughts still dancing in my mind.
“How you doin’, Angel?” he asked softly.
“Can’t sleep, but I’m assuming you watched the video or you wouldn’t have called.”
He laughed into the phone not denying it. Did he realize what he stopped me from doing? Did he somehow know I was literally seconds away from slicing into my own skin? Closing my eyes, I could imagine the burn of my skin separating and the warmth of my blood trickling out. The red color against my alabaster complexion I could see it as if it was real. Except he called and he saved me from myself.
Alanzo called every few days to check on me. I had a security system with cameras. While the cameras weren’t inside my home, he could see when I had lights on. What would he say if he knew what I was about to do? Would he give up on me? Would he walk away forever? Why can’t anyone stay? I couldn’t lose Uncle Zozo. I couldn’t do this to myself anymore because I couldn’t risk losing him too.
“Woke up, checked on you, saw the lights on and figured I’d make sure you’re alright.” He sounded like he had just woken up.
“I’m gettin’ by, Uncle Zozo. Have you had your coffee yet?”
He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “No, I have this habit of waking up and looking on my phone to check your place before I get to the coffee pot.”
“Did you set the timer?” I asked because for Christmas I bought him a coffee maker with a preset timer. He could set everything up the night before with the time he wanted the pot to be ready and each day as long as he did this, he would have a pot of hot java waiting.
He sighed. “Yes, Angel. You look out for your Uncle Zozo. I also fill the travel mug when I leave so my coffee stays warm all day.”
It was my turn to give a half-hearted laugh. “Well, Giano always said you were a pill when you didn’t have your coffee. Don’t want the world dealin’ with all that.”
“You know he would want you to move on,” Alanzo sighed. “To be happy and not be up at two am.”
His words were a punch to the gut. I know he meant well, but it wasn’t simple. Picking up my life, starting over, while drowning in the loss, it was hard. “Easier said than done,” I told him truthfully.
“Angel, at some point you gotta let go. It’s been over a year. You’re safe. No one is looking for you. Your life is yours making it your own.”
&
nbsp; I let his words sink in. I felt like it was a message from Giano. I did need to make life my own. That didn’t mean I knew how to do that, but I needed to find a way to grab onto life with both hands and ride it out.
“You’re right,” I sighed. “I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Get some sleep so you are rested for class. You need to make friends, go on dates, have a life.”
“I’m working on it,” I told him half-heartedly.
“Work harder,” he fired back. “Don’t lie to me, I know what you’re doing and not doing and living is what you’re not doing.”
“Yes sir,” I conceded not knowing what else to say.
After a few more moments, he ended the call and I thought on the conversation. It was time I made friends. This was my life and life was for the living not the dead.
If only it was as easy as telling myself that.
CHAPTER NINE
Six Months Later
My first year of college was behind me and I had begun my sophomore year. I did it thanks to Giano’s money.
With every passing day, I was more determined than the last to major in psychology. My goal was to become a social worker one day or a child psychologist in a clinic. I wasn’t sure which, only that I had a desire to help other people in their formative years.
I had met so many people who were working two jobs while trying to go to school full time or some who only attended part time. I was grateful for the opportunity Giano had given me.
When the grief was too much, when I felt myself wanting it all to end, I told myself I needed to make his sacrifice worth it. I needed to go forward not for me, not for Giano, but for the people I could help in the future. The little Fallyn’s whose father’s were monster’s. The little girls and boys who had no control and no where they felt safe. I was going to be the person in their life who stayed the course to find them safety and happiness.
I knew loneliness.
I was learning about friendships.
Professor Patrick had become a friend. True to his word, he hadn’t touched me. We flirted, we joked, he helped me study for my classes that weren’t his. I also made friends with Tom who was working toward his doctorate in psychology. He helped me focus my course load for summer semester so I could get ahead. Having his input made sure I used my electives wisely to broaden my future possibilities and not just taking some art appreciation class I would never use.
Uncle Alanzo visited at least once a month and continued his calls. Even the middle of the night ones because he woke up and saw my lights on. I found comfort in it and learned to appreciate that someone cared enough to check on me.
Alanzo should hate me. I told him the truth. I told him the ugliness about how I seduced Giano. I took on one hundred percent of the blame for why Giano killed himself. I cost Alanzo his very closest friend and business partner. But he didn’t hate me. He actually understood me, embraced me, and lifted me up when I was so far down.
In this time, I had grown.
I felt like I had a real future. I felt like Giano had given me a gift.
I still wasn’t sure what to do with that gift, but I had accepted that my life was a gift. And I shouldn’t throw it away.
There were days I struggled to keep going. The darkness won some battles, I had to be honest, but overall I learned to fight back and hang on to the light. Giano wouldn’t have wanted to die for nothing. Me living, me continuing on was my only way to give back to the man who had given me so much.
The doorbell to my apartment rang and I went to it. Sometimes my friend Jenny would stop by. She lived two buildings over. She was a junior and studying for med school. Jenny was shy and sweet. She considered herself socially awkward, I didn’t. I found her to be fascinating, intelligent, and beautiful. She just wasn’t very outgoing.
I understood that feeling completely.
We met at the pool when I was swimming one day during a rain. She has become a sort of work out buddy. For a while Shawn tried to be my swim partner, but I found my attraction to him to be too much to resist and I went back to running.
Even in the rain.
He didn’t like that and backed off promising to swim on a different schedule from me.
While I desperately craved his attention, I couldn’t resist the pull. Neither of us needed the complication of a relationship while I was his student. I had messed up enough lives the last time I didn’t keep my desires in control.
I wouldn’t do it again.
Since I finished his class, though, nothing had changed between us. I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to mistake something so I waited for him to make a move. Insecurities plagued me with every passing day that he didn’t kiss me, touch me, something to tell me I didn’t lose him. We talked every day, but he hadn’t moved beyond our friendship and regular sushi dinners.
Opening the door, all I saw was a huge vase of flowers with a man standing behind them. It startled me as the flowers were pushed forward to me.
“Angelina Diamante,” his voice settled my nerves. “I’m here to celebrate you tonight,” Shawn teased.
I grabbed the flowers and stepped inside setting them on the counter before turning back to him beaming. He had moved inside my space and shut the door behind him.
“I hear you made the Dean’s list despite having an asshole for a History teacher setting you off track for your summer semester,” he joked and I playfully patted his chest.
Deciding this was my chance, I reached out and pulled him to me. I had to know. If he rejected me then so be it, but at least I would know where I stood. My lips hit his before his hands came to my waist holding me in place as he took over the kiss.
He wasn’t overbearing, he wasn’t soft, he was taking and I was giving. I was lost to the passion, the desire. Pawing at him, I wanted, no I needed more.
“I want to take you out,” he whispered against my lips.
I paused thinking.
He pressed his lips to mine softly. “Don’t shut down on me, I just want to do this right.”
I softened.
“I feel like we’ve had months of going out. Dinners, late night talks,” I whispered. “I want to kiss you, touch you,” I blinked nervously, “feel you.” The words came out before I stopped to think about them.
His lips crashed to mine as he scooped me up wrapping my legs around his waist. We both let out a chuckle as he turned me and we bumped into my end-table lamp knocking it over as we moved down the hall to my bedroom.
We fell onto my bed where I pulled at his shirt. He put just enough space between us for that to happen before his lips were back on mine. I traced his ink as his tongue went deep into my mouth and he maneuvered to slide my shirt up.
The chemistry between us kept my mind in a fog. I laid back on my bed as he tugged my jeans off and panties before removing his belt.
I wanted him.
I needed him.
I craved him.
For a moment, Giano crawled into my mind that I needed a man who truly knew how to take care of me. With every caress I felt it to my bones that Shawn Patrick was that man.
He kissed my neck, my chest, as I squirmed under him. Pulling back, he reached for his wallet, grabbing a condom. As he removed his pants and boxers, I watched in appreciation as he covered himself.
“Fuck, Angel,” he whispered before his mouth latched onto my neck sucking and then biting hard. I moaned.
His dick settled between my legs and he moved making my clit throb. For a moment, I wondered if he would fit. I had only had sex once in my life.
With his mouth on mine, he transformed my mind back to the moment as his hand grazed up my inner thigh before teasing and working the lips of my pussy. Opening my eyes, I locked onto his and watched as his desire for me grew. A finger slid inside of me. In and out, he worked me as I felt my own liquid lubricate between us. A second finger joined the first as his mouth captured my nipple. Scissoring inside me,
he stretched me until I was arching into him seeking more.
“Ready for me?” He whispered.
“Yes, please,” I begged with a wanton voice I never expected from myself.
He shifted and inch by inch he slid inside of me. His ragged breath danced across my collar-bone. His nails dug into my ribs as he pushed in full and deep. I reached out grabbing his hair and pulling as the sensations overtook me.
“Come on, baby,” he coaxed me on as he slid in and out of me.
I was on the verge.
Our breathing synced as our bodies moved together. He drove harder into me and I went soaring over the edge.
Only after I found my release did he work for his. I was going through the aftershocks as he found his climax. Laying over me, he chuckled.
“What is it about you? I had a plan to take you out. I wanted to go slow. I lose control when I’m around you.”
I wanted to smile. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to joke. But I couldn’t.
“I tend to do that to people and it’s not a good thing,” I told him ominously. “You should let me go and not look back. Being with me is dangerous.”
Post coital bliss I was rambling.
“Shhhh, I know you think you’re dangerous, but I promise you I’m fine, baby. Trust me, Angelina.”
Trust.
Another trick we played on our minds.
CHAPTER TEN
“Are you ready?” Shawn asked with a proud smile.
“Yes!”
After our first night together, Shawn has been the man I never knew I needed. The last month had been amazing. Falling in love was just that, falling. When he sensed me crawling inside myself, he dug in deeper to pull me out and back to him. I wish I would say it wouldn’t happen again, but I wouldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. Sometimes we spent hours in each others arms not speaking, just being. At times that was exactly what I needed. Other times, he went running with me or we hiked a trail. Everything with him was an adventure.
He gave me this easy acceptance I hadn’t found in many people.
Anything with Shawn was fun. The last month with him I have caught myself genuinely smiling. Elation beat out grief for the first time since losing Giano.
Reclaiming Me Page 5
