by Anthology
He’s right but….
“So what?” I roll up to face him. “You want me to stay here and what?”
“This.” His finger traces my jawline, pulling me forward until our lips meet again. Nothing will ever replace the memory of his taste or the pleasure of his touch. But I can think of numerous things that will ruin just how I remember it.
“Until you get bored? I know your game, and I’m fine—”
“No, Londyn.” He rolls me over, crawling on top of me again until I’m pinned between his hands and knees, staring up into his eyes. “I told you I’d run to the end of the world, and that’s where I caught you. There is nothing after this. No one but you. It’s your play, but whether you stay or go, know this, I always knew my part in the game would end with you.”
SKYE CALLAHAN
Bestselling author, Skye Callahan uses fiction to explore the darker aspects of human nature, and the lengths people might go to fight for love in any situation. Skye’s first romantic suspense Irrevocable was named a Top Read of 2014 by Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads, and continues to be a fan favorite.
Website: http://www.skyecallahan.com/
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2cyPpt3
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SkyeCallahan
REVIVED ~ LILLIAN CARTIER
CHAPTER 1
My phone jolts me out of my sleep from the brief vibration; I flip the phone over in my hands. A message from Kara, Text me when you land. I can’t wait to see you; it’s been too long. Love you. I sit up, shaking the sleep off, looking around my seat; everyone is doing his or her own thing. Glancing back to my phone, I notice that I have full signal. Peeking out the small window of the plane, I’m beginning to see that we will be landing soon.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to San Francisco Airport. The local time is six p.m. and the temperature is seventy degrees.
For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign.
On behalf of Avalon Airlines, and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip. We are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice evening!”
Pulling out my phone, I send a response. Landing soon <3. Immediately Kara responds back, I’m here, call when you come out. As soon as the plane stops and the door opens, passengers begin to fill the aisle of the plane, or stand in front of their seats, anxiously waiting for the line of people to exit the plane.
Making my way out of the airport, heading toward the pick-up area, I tap the screen to call my best friend for the past twenty years. “Hey, I’m here. Where are you?”
“I’m by Baggage Claim A, where are you?”
Looking around my surroundings, I reply shortly with, “Baggage Claim D, I’ll head down that way,” and hang up.
While I may not have seen her in the past three years, there’s no missing Kara: long brunette hair, brown eyes, and porcelain skin. She jumps up from her seat, I imagine from her excitement to see me. She looks like she wants to run toward me, like the nutty friend I know she is. Instead, she’s too cool, so she does a fast paced walk to not be obvious. Seeing this makes me want to giggle slightly, even with the current situation I’ve placed myself in, but more about that later.
I brace myself for her stupid, smushy hugs, which I never understand. I allow her to do this to me because she’s my best friend. Bitch knows she’s lucky that I let her smush me. I’m also not oblivious to the fact that we have this unbreakable bond, which makes us sisters to each other, without the genetics. Fuck genetics, whoever said they would always get it right. I knew this girl would be my body-burying friend. My person. Which is why, I’m here, back home.
“Hey, about damn time you got here! I swear your plane was never going to get here.”
Rolling my eyes, I reply, “You sit on a plane for five fucking hours, it’s not peaches and cream for me, either. Let’s get the hell out of here. I need to be fed, too.”
“Sounds like a plan, I’m hungry, too. Let’s go get your shit” We start heading towards the exit.
“I don’t have to get anything.” I shrug my backpack. “This is it.” She stops in her tracks and I keep walking. “Let’s go, Kara. I don’t want to talk about it yet, and I’m hungry.” She catches up and we head out of the airport.
“I know you don’t like being pushed for information but you’ll have to talk to your bestie sooner or later,” she responds in her singsongy voice.
* * *
There are food wrappers scattered all over the coffee table, still stuffing our faces while streaming a serial drama on the television. A commercial comes on, and I already feel ‘the talk’ coming. The very thing I was dreading the entire time. I don’t want to open the wounds again when they haven’t even had a chance to scab over. I’m supposed to be the strong one, the logical one: the one that doesn’t make mistakes. I know Kara would never judge me, but we are each our own worst enemy and our harshest critic. Not to mention, I’m also the control freak that managed to lose control of everything in life.
I arrived in Chicago with stars in my eyes. A new start with someone I thought that would love me unconditionally. I threw caution to the wind and left everything and everyone behind, putting all my faith into one person to show him how much he meant to me. To prove that I loved him. Little by little, he seized control of every aspect of my life. I stopped communication with my family and my friends. He had control of my finances. It went as far as me asking him if I could buy clothes for myself, when the ones I had were wearing thin. From the outside in, it should have been easy for me to see the red flags and leave. However, when I was tumbling right in the middle of the chaos, I reached a point I didn’t realize how much I clung onto him, not because I wanted to hold onto the relationship or love, but out of fear. Then came the night he threated to throw me in the streets and leave; I became desperate. I felt cut off from the entire world.
My world only consisted of me and the devil himself. He knew I had a fascination with pain. I would be turned on with the feel of a collar around my neck, and cuffs on my wrists, but the night I begged him to not throw me out was the night I was restrained, and not only marked, but bloodied. The only thing that held me up were the carabiners hooked to the ceiling. When he had enough of me that night, he threw me out anyway. I was useless to him. I stayed with his best friend that night, after walking to his house. Keeping me a secret from the devil. “You’re both bad for one another, I wish I would have said something sooner. You can’t keep doing this, look what he’s done to you. Isn’t there someone you can call? Someone you can stay with back home? You used to be so happy. You were such a smartass with a tough personality. It’s sickening that I even know someone like him. He’s broken you and you were such a strong person. I think you should go back where people will take care of you, back home. I’m going to miss you, but you need to be far away from him so it’s not so easy for him to be accessible to you,” his friend confided to me.
This was my breaking point. I needed to leave; if I stayed there I was going to be in the ditch some day. That fateful night was enough to leave my job, since I didn’t get to keep any of the money I made and the belongings that I would never see again. He would have rather thrown my stuff in a fire pit, and light them on fire, than to see me have possession of my stuff. So much for the so-called life I built back in Chicago.
“You might as well tell me what happened now, when do we bury the asshole? No one will find out, you know. We practically have all the tools here. Tarp, knives, shovels. Landfills are short of assholes, anyway. Although I admit, I’m selfish. I’ve missed having you here. Whatever he did, I’m glad to have my person back.” She tries to lighten the mood with a touch of seriousness shaking me out of my reverie. It’s how we’ve always addressed talks like the one we’re about to have. I begin to piece my words together, contemplating where to start.
Tears begin to roll down my face, as the p
ast year and a half emotionally hits me at once. How do I explain to my best friend that I managed to not only put myself in a situation that wasn’t ideal, but I was with someone who has broken me down so much that I’ve had no choice to leave? It is without a doubt the best decision I made. Kara couldn’t get me here fast enough that night I called her sobbing through the phone, saying I didn’t want to be there anymore. It was exactly a month ago when I made that phone call, and now here I am, sitting in Kara’s apartment on her couch. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t know what I was doing; I guess I didn’t want another relationship to fail. I got comfortable. I was in Chicago by myself. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t even know anyone or had time to know anyone. I left everything here, thinking he was ‘the one.’ Little by little, he slowly consumed so much of me; I didn’t have anything left to give. It sounds stupid, but I kept thinking it would get better, and it was better than being alone. I kept trying harder and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“He doesn’t know exactly where I am. He knows I came back to California, but he doesn’t know where I’m staying. I’m sure it won’t take him long to figure out that I’m staying at your apartment. He was pissed off when he found out that I was leaving; we got into this big fight when I showed up and tried to ask for my stuff. The only reason I was able to leave is because the cops showed up and kept him outside, away from me, until the cab came and picked me up to take me to the airport. That’s why I was late, I missed my first flight, and that was the soonest one they could put me on.”
“Fuck him, he’s an asshole. I never liked him. I know you must have seen something in him that I didn’t understand. I support you, regardless of your decisions, but that guy is a certified crazy. I have a feeling there’s more than what you’re telling me, but I’m glad you’re back. You can stay as long as you want, of course. Do your parents know you’re back?”
“Yea, I’m not ready to face them yet. Soon, I just need to regroup or some shit.” I run my hand through my hair.
“I get it, I’m here no matter what. We’re each other’s person.” She gives me a smile that confirms her statement.
“I know, you’re my person. That’s why I’m crashing on your couch, instead of a bed at my folks.” I laugh.
“Hey, don’t make fun of the couch. I have the coolest couch around. People should be jealous of my couch. Hell, I’m jealous of my couch sometimes. I need to replace my mattress, I’ve just been too lazy to go mattress shopping, and instead I’ll blame Bryan. If Bryan was here, he would have bought the mattress yesterday,” she responds as a dejected look passes her face, standing up and stretching; an indication that she’s going to bed.
“You better get a new mattress, especially before Bryan gets home, because I don’t want to hear your mattress from the couch when you two go at it like banshees, chick.”
She grabs a pillow from the edge of the couch and throws it toward my head. “Well, my mattress doesn’t want to hear my couch getting laid either,” she retorts, as she sticks her tongue out at me.
I grab the pillow and place it under my head, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to cover myself. “Yea, yea, yea. How’s your hubs doing, anyway?”
Taking a deep breath, she looks past me. “Good. I’m just ready for him to be home. At least this time, we can Skype one another and see each other, unlike the last time he was deployed. I feel even better knowing that when he’s home, the military can’t call him back in because he’ll have completed the time he signed up for.”
“Yea, I don’t blame you. I’m glad he’s doing good though.”
“I’m going to go crash, see ya in the morning, chick.”
“Night, Boo.”
CHAPTER 2
Pushing the button on the coffee pot, so it starts the brewing process, I’m wishing the coffee to brew faster. I haven’t slept much lately; last night I only slept three hours. I feel a huge weight off my shoulders that I will no longer wake up in Chicago. Emotionally I am drained, I don’t have anything left in me, but it’s invigorating to know that I made a step in the right direction to finding myself again.
Pulling the creamer out of the fridge, I douse my coffee with it. Yes, I’ll take coffee with my creamer, thank you, I tell myself. I’m half a cup in and I begin to pick up the mess we made, from all the food we ate last night, and toss it in the trash. Taking my coffee out to the patio. I sit back in the chair and embrace the warmth of the sun, taking a moment to clear my mind and mentally salve the edges of the pain that I’ve endured during the miserable life in the Windy City.
“Good Morning.” I open my eyes to see where that is coming from and whom he is talking to. I didn’t notice anyone out here at around at seven in the morning. He’s walking toward the side of the patio, wearing a military uniform of some sort. I guess it’s not uncommon to see that here, figuring there are service members staying in these apartments and Kara had mentioned that a lot of Bryan’s friends stayed in the apartment complex if not nearby.
“Morning,” I respond with a smile. There goes my moment of peace. I finish my last bit of coffee and slide the glass door back to go back inside, while closing and locking the door behind me.
“Hey, you.” Kara’s awake and in the kitchen, willing her cup of coffee to brew faster.
“Hey.” I set my cup on the counter.
“I’m going to take a shower real quick.”
“Sounds good, you know where it is. I’ll make some more coffee.”
“Yes, coffee, lots of coffee needed today,” I respond back, while heading down the hall toward the bathroom.
Shutting the bathroom door behind me. I turn the water on, and undress, as I wait for the water to heat up. I avoid looking in the mirror, not ready to see my reflection. I know I’ve been losing weight. While one ten may be have been healthy when I was fifteen for my body type, it is no longer healthy now. I’m not anorexic by any means, but I could use another ten to fifteen pounds. I am just emotionally drained and it’s taken a toll on my body. I want to move past this feeling of purgatory and move forward with life and be happy. I can’t remember the last time I felt joy.
Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water pour over me. Slowly relaxing some of my muscles, while stinging other areas. A reminder that being here is the best decision I’ve made for myself in a long time. I’m also thankful that I was able to leave the state and come back with Kara’s help. Taking a deep breath, I refocus on moving forward and leaving as much of the past in Chicago as possible. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, I start to go through the routine of my shower and hop out.
Grabbing the towel from the cabinet, I dry my hair and body off. I throw on the t-shirt and shorts I brought into the bathroom with me. Tying my hair up into a ponytail, I head back toward the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
“Hey, sunshine, coffee maker is good to go. Just flip it down and push the button.” Kara calls out from the patio.
“Thanks!” I holler back, as I brew myself another cup. I begin to flip through the cabinets, searching for cereal, and then some milk for breakfast to have with my coffee. I hear the front door open and someone coming down the hallway. The hair on my arms stands on end and I’m on alert. I set the cereal and milk down on the counter and brace myself on the edge. While I knew he wouldn’t dare walk into someone’s house without knocking, I still held on to that bit of unwavering fear that he could show up at any moment if he was angry enough with me and hadn’t moved on with someone else to keep him distracted.
“I’m out of creamer, Kara, can I grab some from you?” a stranger calls out, soon after, he’s facing me in the kitchen. “Morning! Is Kara around?” he asks me, giving me a warm, friendly smile, and it takes me a moment to respond. I stare blankly at him, freezing in place. His smile draws my attention to his sensual lips, but his eyes bore into me as if he could eat me alive. Somehow, it doesn’t scare me when this stranger looks at me the way he
is. “I certainly love the view, kitten, and it appears you don’t mind what you’re seeing,” he says, as he leans over the counter toward my direction. Surprised by his response, and embarrassed for being caught checking him out, I straighten my spine and peer toward the patio.
“Kara, you’ve a friend here.” I poke my head around the stranger and call out to her. She leans over in the patio, so she can see me in the kitchen, and I give her the, ‘who the fuck is this guy and why did this man just walk into your house’ look, when his back is facing me, while he turns to face the direction I am calling out.
“Oh, hey, Hunter. What’s up?” she asks this Hunter guy, as she comes back into the apartment.
“Was wondering if I can get some creamer from you. I forgot to grab some from the store.”
“Sure. Lily, can you grab the creamer out of the fridge for Hunter?” I’m standing here, trying to piece what’s going on in front of me. Sure this guy is cute, I’m just not sure how he fits into this whole picture. I turn to pull the creamer out of the fridge and push it across the counter toward him.
He picks it up from the counter and passes me a sensuous smile. I send a friendly cautious smile back. “Thanks, Lily. I’ll buy you a new one, if you need it before then, just come in and grab it. Thanks, Kara!” he responds as he leaves, passing me a wink before he strides off.
I finish putting my bowl of cereal together, the moment I hear the door shut. I walk around the corner with my bowl, to make sure the door is closed, and Hunter is gone. Raising my eyebrow at my best friend, she has this funny smirk on her face, and I’m not quite sure how to digest her look quite yet. “There are only a few people that can walk into your house that I know of.” I start counting my fingers off. “Your family, and not even all of them, Bryan, your husband, and me.” I point toward the door.
“Who’s that guy? Clearly he’s not here for you, because he doesn’t have the sleazeball vibe. And let’s be honest, no guy is brave enough to walk into this house, no matter if they know Bryan or not, because Bryan can probably kill him from overseas, without being here, if he so much as side eyes your ass. Soooo…” I take a bite of cereal. “Who’s that dude?” I’m too nosey for my own damn good sometimes, because from her cheesy look, it is like we are sixteen all over again, gossiping about boys. I just want to sit and eat my cereal, and know if I’m going to be interrupted with this guy randomly walking into the apartment during my coffee and cereal time, no matter how sexy I think he is.
