Revive (A Redemption Novel)

by Marley Valentine

  “It’s only fair,” he shrugs. “You had no plans of sharing it.”

  “I think I can still taste it,” I say licking my lips.

  “Yeah?” He moves closer, catching my bottom lip between his. “Mmmm. Tastes good,” he moans. Sneakily he holds up the same caramel chocolate from earlier, and pops it in his mouth. He chews loudly, making animated noises. Looking smug and satisfied, he smirks at me. “Sorry Crazy, but this tasted way better.”

  Acting less like hormonal teenagers, and more like functional adults we walk through the aisles, and meet Emerson and Jagger at a handmade jewellery tent.

  “Oh look,” Em teases, “You guys decided to come up for air.”

  “You guys are just jealous you didn’t think of it first,” Drix retorts.

  They bicker as we keep walking, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a relief that we’d all fallen into a comfortable exchange.

  From the corner of my eye I notice Jagger staring at me pensively. Not sure what his problem could be I decide to walk ahead and check out some of my favourite stalls.

  Expecting the figure beside me to be Hendrix, I’m surprised to see Jagger follow me.

  Caught unawares and not sure what to say, I wait for him to break the silence. Bowed head, hands in pocket, he looks nervous as hell.

  Surveying the wooden table in front of me, I graze my hand over the beautiful hand woven bracelets. Picking one up, I turn to face Jagger, and hand it to him. “I don’t bite, you know?”

  Face to face, he takes my offering. His expression is stoic. Unreadable. A disparity to what comes out of his mouth. “I need to apologise.”

  I jerk my head back in shock. “Wait, what? What for?”

  He rubs his hand over his mouth repeatedly as I wait for an explanation. “Em told me what happened before we got to the café.”

  “Then why—”

  “Wait.” He holds his hand up in protest. “I need to get this out. I know you apologised to Em, and that’s between you and her, but I should have never made you feel like that in the first place.”

  “Jagger. Stop.” I place my hand over the hand that still holds the bracelet. “Please don’t ever feel like you have to apologise for wanting to protect your brother.”

  “It’s just.” He arches his neck back, and takes a huge breath of air, clearly trying to compose himself. Eyes like Hendrix’s look back down at me. A little older. A little more worn down. “There have been a lot of times in his life where he needed protecting, and I wasn’t there. So now I overcompensate. Sometimes I’m rude and overbearing, but I promise my heart is in the right place.”

  His vulnerability chips away at the anger I held towards him for questioning our choices. I realise I can empathise with every shit turn their lives has taken, but I’ll never really understand the after effects. I will never know what it’s like to love and disappoint someone in the same breath, or be away from your family for so long, you’ve missed a lifetime. I will never know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that pain, and what it takes to learn to live with it.

  And for that, I’m the one who should be apologising.

  “Jagger, please let me say something.”

  “No,” he says adamantly. “I know what you’re going to say and it isn’t necessary, because he’s so fucking happy, and that’s all you.”

  “No pressure. No expectation. No hard feelings if it just doesn’t work out. Just a thank you.” He tries to hand me back the bracelet “You’ve taken good care of him.”

  I push the plaited fabric back into his hand. “That’s where you have it all wrong. He doesn’t need to be taken care off. He just needs to be set free.”

  Giving me a small nod, he swallows the lump in his throat, and looks down at the handmade jewellery.

  “Oh.” I clear my throat, getting rid of my emotions. That’s for Em. Buy it for her, she’ll love it.

  Keeping up with rituals I promise to text Em when I get home. Drix drives me and my car back to my place, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Me thinking about what Jagger said, him wondering what Jagger said. I feel overwhelmed with things I want to say and things I know I shouldn’t.

  Standing at the front door, strong arms wrap around me, cocooning me in. His mouth below my ear. “Are you going to tell me what you two spoke about?”

  Giving him better access, I tilt my head, and unlock the door. “Let’s go lay in bed.”

  “It's three o'clock in the afternoon.” Refusing to let me go, we walk inside, attached to one another.

  “You’ve got somewhere to be?”

  “No,” he growls as he nips my earlobe. “I just can't remember the last time I hopped into bed in the middle of the day.”

  “My dearest Hendrix, you haven't lived till you've jumped into bed for no other reason than because you can.”

  We step into my room, and he lets go of me. “I guess you'll have to teach me”

  Walking to my newly designated side of the bed, I take off every stitch of clothing. No seduction. No purpose. I do it just because I can. Hopping under the covers, I turn my sheet covered body to the side. Resting my arm on the bed, I place my cheek on my palm. Looking up at Hendrix, I wave my free hand up and down, gesturing to his clothes.

  “Do as you see, Padawan.”

  He strips naked, and jumps in beside me. Mirroring my pose, he asks me again. “Are you going to tell me what you two spoke about?”

  Choosing to keep the long version to myself, I reveal the part that was most important. “He thanked me for making you happy.”

  It's a simple statement, but the weight of it isn't lost on either of us.

  Tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear, he leans forward and whispers in my mouth. “Thank you, Crazy.”

  I press my lips to his, giving him small pecks. Moving from the corner of his mouth to the side of his face and down his neck.

  Pushing him to his back, I straddle him. Leaving kisses on his chest, down his stomach and back again. I feel the heat from his turned on body, light a match in my own.

  With no words and no warning, I grab his stiff cock, and line it up with my entrance. Sliding myself down on him, he groans and I watch his face morph into tortured ecstasy.

  Hovering over him, my hair falls like a curtain around us, emphasising our own little world. Movements cease, breathing is heavy. Feeling close and consumed I wrap myself in his gratitude.

  Like a feather tracing his lips, my mouth touches him with the utmost reverence. “Thank you.”

  17

  Hendrix

  Checking my watch, I estimate Taylah to be home in about any minute now. Since she had to cancel on dinner because of a work crisis, I figured I’d bring dinner to her. That, and she’s now become like a drug to me, close to fifty hours without seeing her and I'm desperate with need.

  Her car turns into her driveway, the headlights beaming directly at me. I shield my eyes and wait for the car to turn off.

  Blinded by the light, my eyes take several long blinks to adjust, my ears hearing her before I can see her.

  “Hey,” she says in surprise. “What are you doing, sitting out here in the dark?” She greets me with a kiss, before taking a seat beside me. She leans her head on my shoulder in exhaustion. I grab the plastic bag filled with food from next to my feet and pull it up to her line of sight. “I came to feed my girl.”

  ‘Your girl.” Her head perks up, and I can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

  “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah…” she stammers. “I guess I didn’t think of it.”

  It’s been all I’ve been thinking about

  “It’s almost been a solid two months now, calling this anything else lessens it.”

  “Are you sure?” She asks skeptically, her reasons clear as day.

  “I’m sure about how I feel about you.”

  I pray that my words reassure her, because they’re the truth. Right now, there’s nowhere else in the world I would rather be tha
n by her side. Touching her. Talking to her. Laughing with her. She’s fucking sunshine and I need her to warm up all the parts of myself I’ve left abandoned in the dark.

  “Drix.” Her voice soft and needy.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d be honoured to be your girl.”

  The relief within me is palpable. Curling my arm around her shoulders, I bring her even closer, and kiss her forehead. “Let’s get you inside.”

  I walk into the kitchen, and set up our dinner on plates. Dropping her keys and laptop bag on the table, she unpacks her day; notebooks , manilla folders and a shit load of pens.

  “How was work?”

  Walking toward me she takes the plate of fried rice, and spicy beef out of my hand. “Can we eat in bed and talk about it?”

  “One of those days?”

  She nods in defeat. leading me into her sanctuary.

  Quickly changing into a t-shirt I've left behind, Taylah sits cross legged on her bed and begins to eat.

  Her mood is troubled, and while I hate knowing she's upset, being in her presence soothes my worry.

  Following suit, I sit and eat, waiting for her to come out of her shell.

  With all the time we now spend with each other, I've been able to pick out things about her that I would've never anticipated. Her ability to be so immersed in her job, she can't see past it, is one of them. Sometimes her empathy for others cripples her in a way I know exhausts her.

  I admire her passion and her dedication, but the need to take care of her own well being is something we always bicker about.

  “Didn’t you eat lunch today?” I ask as she shovels the food into her mouth.

  She shakes her head. “By the time I had a few spare minutes, I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.”

  Looking down at her empty plate I offer her the remainder of mine.

  “No, you're still eating that,” she protests.

  “Eat, baby.” I push it toward her again, taking her empty plate as encouragement. “There’s more in the kitchen if I need it.”

  She devours the rest of my plate, and my heart does an unexplainable dance, knowing she's eaten and full. “Let me get these to the kitchen, then we can talk about your day, huh?”

  “Ughhh, do we have to?” She falls dramatically on to her bed.

  “You're going to start talking about it in forty five minutes anyway.” She throws a pillow at me, and I laugh while blocking it with my shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

  Returning to the room empty handed, I notice she’s swapped out the main bedroom light, for her lamps. The television is on more as background noise, and she’s managed to bury herself under a mountain of blankets.

  I shuck off all my clothes, keeping only my boxer briefs on, and climb in next to her. Hooking my arm around her stomach, I bring her to me, her back pressing into my chest, our bodies curled up against one another.

  “Today I managed to get the court to process an Apprehended Violence Order on a husband who beat the shit out of his wife and kid on the regular. He made bail, so the criminal charges will come later, but obviously the priority is to keep everyone safe.”

  My nose skims the length of her neck, as my hand creeps up underneath her shirt; my skin desperate to feel hers. She talks and I listen, giving her whatever she needs to feel better.

  “He and his wife were selling anything and everything to score. We arranged for the mum to go into rehab with the hope she can eventually be reunited with her daughter.”

  “This young girl was just living her life. A victim to abuse, exposed to drugs, how do people do that around children? How do they expect them to grow up unfazed and unharmed.”

  Her voice trembles and all I can do is hold her tighter. “The part that gets me the most is how hard the young girl cried herself into an anxiety attack, because she wasn’t going to see her parents again. They don’t deserve her loyalty.”

  The picture forms perfectly in my mind, seeing it all the time at work. It’s a battle that I wish we could win, but unfortunately for the most part, families sometimes have to crack before they can be put back together. Turning in my arms, Taylah’s wet eyes, bore into mine and I wipe her escaping tears. “The thing about parents is we’re programmed to love them no matter what. For a very long time they’re all we know. There are some parents, like yours who deserve super hero status. There are some who make the best with what they have. But for a lot of us, it’s just a reminder we’re all human and humans are not infallible. We make mistakes, and we’re not perfect.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why don’t you ever talk about your mum?” She hooks her leg over my waist, brining herself closer to me. “What happened?”

  “She was a good mum in the sense that she provided just enough for us. We had a roof over our head, shoes on our feet and food in our stomachs. But she was mean. If you ask me did she love us, I’d tell you I really don’t know.”

  It’s not until this moment do I realise how little I talk or even think of my mother. Unlike the rest of my past, she has no importance on my future. She’s always been the one thing I’ve been happy to leave behind.

  “After what happened with Jagger and Sasha…” Their names come out of my mouth as a pair before I can stop it, Taylah’s face acknowledging it just as quick as I do. “Her tongue was razor sharp and she was on his case all the time. Constantly telling him that he and his kid would amount to nothing. I was so fucked up. I let her go to town on him.” Placing her hand on the back of my neck, her fingertips draw circles on my scalp, The simple touch softening the memory. “He and I were just starting to get back on track before he went to jail, and when it happened I finally understood how far she pushed him into proving himself.”

  Even though so much time has passed and I now get to see Jagger everyday, the guilt for letting him get sucked into a false belief of unworthiness often eats at me.

  “I couldn’t forgive myself and I couldn’t forgive her. As soon as I could, I was out of there.”

  “And now what?” she asks, every part of her engrossed in the story. “You don’t speak to her or see her?”

  “Not if I don’t have to. I pay some of her bills, pay someone to maintain the house for her, and that eases my conscience.”

  “Does Jagger know?”

  “He asked me about her when he got out, and I told him what I’d done. He offered to share her bills with me, but I refused.”

  “Why?”

  I trace lines up and down her spine, her presence keeping me focused on the present and not the anger I’d spent so long holding against my mother for Jagger’s incarceration.

  “She was glad to see the back of him when he went inside. She never tried to see him or even asked me how he was, and her effort with Dakota was fucking dismal. For every person he might’ve needed to make it up to when he got out, she’s not fucking one of them.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what I expected, but that wasn’t it.”

  “What do you mean?” Like she knows how much I love her body wrapped up in mine she clings tighter. Her core kissing my cock, her mouth inhaling my exhale, my eyes getting lost in hers.

  “While the shit you’ve been through sucks, I can’t get over how fucking selfless you are.”

  “I’ve always done what I have to do.”

  “You do that and then some.” She brushes her nose against mine. “I know you didn’t get it when you were growing up, and I doubt you let yourself hear it now, but you are an amazing person.”

  Hungrily, I snatch the praise out of her mouth. I let it roll around with our tongues, and let it flood me.

  She forces herself off me mid kiss, “I hope you’re not trying to shut me up.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh, and kiss her again.

  “I’m just saying thank you.”

  The mood around us changing, she grinds herself against me, my dick relishing in the attention. I slide my hand in between us and in the
front of her underwear.

  “You’re always so fucking wet for me.”

  “It’s only fair, you fuck me like nobody else.”

  Like the flick of a switch, I’m a man turned starved animal. Tugging at our clothes, I push inside her as quickly as I can.

  The relief of unburdening myself of some of my past, mixed with Taylah’s words washing over my skin, sends me into the ultimate high.

  Rolling on top of her I pound her into the mattress. With every thrust, her body bounces. Her back arched and voice hoarse, I make sure she knows nobody will ever fuck her like this.

  Quick, and raw, her pussy pulsates around me, and I fill her with everything inside of me. Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. I let her take it. I let her hold it. I let her heal it.

  18

  Taylah

  Finishing Court early, I decide to see if Drix can spare an hour at work for lunch. Not wanting to wait til tonight to see him, I shoot a text through.

  Me: How’s your day shaping up?

  Drix: It’s improving now.

  Me: I finished Court early, do you have time to spare for lunch?

  Drix: Yes. The office will be empty by the time you get here.

  Me: I’ll buy something on the way

  Drix: Perfect.

  Traffic in the middle of the day is minimal, including a stop at a nearby café, I arrive at his office in just over thirty minutes.

  Having not been there before, I follow the signs to where I think he would be, hoping to surprise him.

  Ever since the adorable “my girl” declaration, everything feels different. Our bedroom fairytale has turned into something tangible. Something I wasn’t expecting. Something very real. Everyday we get closer. Our hearts. Our minds. Our bodies. We’re learning to live in each other’s lives and it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.

  The door to what I assume is his office is ajar, and I nudge it open with my shoulder, my hands full with lunch. The sound of me entering, has him looking up from his computer screen. Swapping his initial look of annoyance for a smile that shines in his eyes. “You’re here.”