Ready to Love

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Ready to Love Page 8

by Franca Storm


  “There’ll be another time for all that.”

  “John—”

  “Look, she can’t see me like this. You hear me?”

  His eyes narrow with suspicion and he asks, “Why not?”

  I look away and drink some of my beer.

  “John? You’re gonna tell me. And let’s face it, you can’t exactly get up and walk away right now as you normally do when you don’t like where a conversation is going.”

  Dammit. He’s right. It’s not my business to tell. It’s Nicki’s. But I have to tell him something to both get him off my back and to convince him not to call her.

  “There’s stuff in her past. Stuff that isn’t mine to tell. And seeing me beaten and bloody like this will bring it all up. I don’t want that. Understand?”

  I see the surprise in his eyes. And then something that looks like realization. “She was abused,” he says. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it all this time. It makes sense. She hates people touching her. She’s never dated—not that I’ve seen anyway. She’s shy around guys she doesn’t know. That’s heavy.”

  “There isn’t a word for what happened to her, Mitch.”

  I can’t stop the emotion welling up inside me at the thought of Nicki hurting like that. It takes a lot for me to get a grip.

  “You were there?”

  “For the last time.”

  “You stopped it?”

  We lock eyes and I tell him, “I almost killed him.”

  “Fuck,” he breathes, leaning back against his chair with a heavy sigh. “Fucking hell.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  A few seconds of tense silence pass between us and then he asks me, “So you almost killed him? How did you get away with that one?”

  “I had a good lawyer.”

  He smiles as he realizes, “Your dad.”

  I nod.

  Everyone knows my dad. To say he’s famous would be an understatement. He’s the best damn criminal lawyer around. And I respect that. But the man can be a stubborn piece of work. I guess I inherited that. He’s determined to make me follow in his footsteps. He hates the band and my music. He hates my tattoos; everything about the rock lifestyle. Although, he likes Nicki’s little phoenix. What’s that about?

  Nicki can do no wrong around my parents. They love her. She lived with us for a while and my parents basically unofficially adopted her. They’ve been trying to push us together forever. If they knew what had been happening between us lately, they’d be on my back 24/7 talking wedding plans and kids and all that bullshit.

  Mitch snaps his fingers in my face, shocking me back to reality. It’s then that I realize he’s struggling to lift me out of my chair.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m putting you to bed.”

  We make it out of the chair and slowly, very slowly, make our way out of the kitchen.

  “Are you gonna tuck me in too?”

  He laughs. “What I am gonna do is force a couple of painkillers down your throat.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I wasn’t giving you the option.”

  I sigh tiredly. “Fine. But if I wake up late tomorrow for class, it’s on you.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until you can walk on your own. I’ll speak to your professors. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.”

  “Dude, it’s bad.”

  Maybe it is, because as we walk to my bedroom, all I feel is burning. Everywhere. Every part of me hurts. But I’m not about to admit it to him—or anyone. I’m not a pussy. I can take a beating. Although, taking on three guys is a little excessive. It’ll be fine. I’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will be fine. I’ll go to class, do what I normally do.

  Right now I just need to sleep. Real bad.

  Chapter 17

  ~Nicki~

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I skip out of the Psychology building. And yes, I mean, literally skip. I’m flying high on the knowledge that I’ve just handed in my final assignment for this semester. The next few weeks are gonna be a breeze.

  “Yes!” I exclaim out loud.

  “You’re in a good mood,” a familiar voice comes from behind me.

  I spin around to see Axel walking out of the building towards me.

  “Hey,” I greet him.

  “Hey yourself. I take it you just handed in the assignment?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Barely a second ago. What a load off.”

  “Tell me about it,” I say.

  He grins, clearly enjoying my carefree, upbeat mood. “May I?” he asks, moving closer.

  I nod and he leans in and kisses me softly on my right cheek. His arms wrap around me and he gazes into my eyes with a faraway look of longing. “I want you, Nicki,” he breathes in my ear.

  My defenses kick in and I start to pull away, but he holds fast. “Axel,” I protest.

  “Relax. I’m not gonna do anything. But I want you to.”

  “What?”

  He traces my jawline with his thumb. He’s gentle for once. Different. What is this?

  “After the other night I realized I’ve been too rough with you. I want to take my time with you.” He moves his thumb to my lips and brushes them ever so softly. “And I figured the best way to do that is to let you take the lead.”

  Huh. Well this is a bit of a curveball. I really didn’t expect this. Take the lead? Maybe that’s the solution. Maybe I won’t freak out if I’m in control.

  I look up at him and see that primal look I saw a few days ago at the frat house. It freaks me out. It seems so wild, so uncontrollable. But he just told me that he wants me to take control.

  Ignoring the warning bells in my head, I grip his shirt and push him against the wall. To my surprise, he grunts. I look up at him in question.

  “Just a little sore. Me and the guys were playing football a couple of days ago.”

  “Aww,” I say, reaching under his shirt and tracing my fingers lightly over his naked chest. “Poor you. Do you want me to stop touching you?” I tease.

  “Oh fuck, you’d better not. What you’re doing feels so damn good, babe.”

  My hands still under his shirt, I stretch onto my tiptoes and plant my lips on his, kissing him hard, just like he always kisses me. He moans as my tongue plunges into his mouth. I lose myself to it, forcing away the warning still chiming in my head.

  Our kiss becomes wild, ferocious. So much so that it takes me a moment to realize that his hands are on me. He breaks my grip on his chest as he slides both his hands down my body, from my neck, to my boobs, down to my stomach, until one is gripping my right hip and the other is between my legs, stroking me through my jeans. His touch is rough and frenzied but I force myself not to pull away.

  He breaks our kiss and growls, “More?”

  His eyes gesture to his hand between my legs.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  He smirks and something I can’t place flashes in his eyes.

  I feel his hand slip into my jeans, under my panties. A single finger delves between my pussy lips, rubbing up and down. Up and down.

  “Oh, babe. You’re drenched,” he whispers in my ear.

  I barely hear him. I’m so possessed by the feel of his finger stroking my bare pussy. I moan loudly and writhe against him.

  “That’s right. Good girl. You want more?”

  I look up at him through dazed eyes and all I can do is nod.

  He thrusts his finger inside me suddenly. I scream and he clamps his hand over my mouth.

  “Shh. Don’t make a sound, dirty girl. We’re in public. Anyone could see. But you don’t care, do you? You fucking love it. Love my hand inside your wet panties, finger fucking you senseless. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me, Nicki,” he whispers in my ear.

  “I…yes,” I struggle to utter. I’m lost to the sensations he’s triggering in me. I can’t think. I can barely breathe. It’s so intense
. I’m right on the edge. I know I’m gonna come soon. I whimper into his mouth as my breathing becomes ragged and uncontrollable.

  He grabs my hand and presses it to his dick. “Unzip me,” he commands.

  I hesitate and he steps up his assault on my pussy, zoning in on my clit. It drives me crazy—beyond crazy—and I find myself fumbling for his belt.

  “Nicki!” someone yells from behind me.

  The sudden interruption and the irate tone jolts me back to reality. I pull Axel’s hand out of my panties and spin around hastily.

  It’s Mitch. He’s standing there, his arms folded across his chest. He looks pissed. But not at me. No, he’s shooting daggers at Axel.

  “I’ll take you back to your apartment,” he says, holding out his hand to me.

  “We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Mitch. She’ll head home when she feels like it. She doesn’t need a fucking bodyguard,” Axel tells him.

  “From what I’m seeing, it looks like she does, asshole.” Mitch steps forward and grabs my hand. “Let’s go.” As he pulls me away, Axel takes a threatening step towards him.

  “What are you doing?” I ask him as I see a dangerous, menacing look flash in his eyes.

  His eyes lock with mine for a moment. And then he steps back. “Nothing. I’ll see you later, babe. Come by around eight. The frat house is throwing a party tonight.”

  Before I can answer, he takes off without looking back.

  “You okay?” Mitch asks, studying me worriedly.

  “I…uh…yeah,” I murmur. Oh my God. I completely lost control then with Axel. The way he touched me, his words. I couldn’t think. What the hell was I doing? I just let him finger me in public up against the psychology building. “Shit. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing,” Mitch says.

  I didn’t realize I’d actually said that out loud. I can feel my cheeks burning from embarrassment. Oh, this is awful.

  “He was manipulating you, Nicki.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

  “He was. Sensory overload?”

  Sensory overload? Yes, that’s exactly what it felt like. Was Axel really manipulating me, or is Mitch exaggerating? I mean, he didn’t force himself on me. He left the decision in my hands.

  I mull it over for the rest of our journey back to the apartment. I’m barely even aware of getting in the cab, or of it pulling up outside our building.

  “Nicki, you okay?” Mitch asks from beside me as we walk down the corridor towards our apartments.

  “What?”

  “You’ve been out of it since we left campus. Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking. I’m fine.” My gaze falls to the bag in his hand. It’s from the campus pharmacy. “You’re sick?”

  He shakes his head. “John. He hasn’t been feeling well.”

  I peer into the bag. “Anti-inflammatory medication….gauze…disinfectant.” My eyes snap to his. “What the hell is going on?”

  “The gauze and disinfectant is for me. I scraped my leg.”

  “Really?” I press, completely unconvinced.

  “Yeah. It’s a long story. Involves a threesome and my bedside table.” His eyes bore into mine and I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to unnerve me by talking about his sex life.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “And the anti-inflammatory stuff? That’s for John?”

  “Yeah. He’s got some sort of flu. They’re for his throat. It’s all swollen and stuff.”

  “That’s why he hasn’t returned my texts for a couple of days?”

  “Yeah. He’s been out. Dead to the world.”

  “Well, I want to see him. You guys should’ve called me. I have a lot of experience with taking care of John when he’s sick.”

  I make a move to their apartment door behind him, but he blocks my path. “I wouldn’t, Nicki. He’s contagious and it’s pretty fucking gross, to tell you the truth.”

  “Mitch, I want to make sure he’s okay.”

  “No. He just needs rest. He’ll be fine in a few more days. I’ll tell him you were asking after him.”

  It’s clear that no matter what I say, Mitch isn’t going to let me in. I step back and let out a frustrated breath. “Does he have a girl in there? Is that what this is really about?”

  “No. Fuck no. I can’t remember the last time he had a girl in there. He’s going through a goddamn dry spell right now.”

  Really? He hasn’t slept with anyone else? “Oh. Okay.” I guess he is sick then. “Well, if he does need me, I’m right down the hall. Anything. Tell him I said that. Okay?”

  He smiles kindly. “Of course. I absolutely will.”

  Reluctantly, I start to walk away.

  “Axel is dangerous, Nicki!” Mitch calls out.

  I spin around. “What?”

  “He’s dangerous. Stay away.”

  Before I can respond, he walks into his apartment. I hear the door lock.

  What the hell was that all about?

  It takes me barely a second to realize.

  Mitch knows!

  Shit, he knows about the stuff that happened with me and John. Dammit!

  Chapter 18

  ~Nicki~

  I’m not going to that frat party tonight. I was way out of control earlier around Axel. I’m not used to it. I let it take me over completely. I need to get a grip. I should stay away from him until I can do that.

  Forget all that crap. It’s not important right now. I’m worried about John. What is going on with him? I’ve always taken care of him when he’s been sick. What’s changed this time? Of course, I wouldn’t put it past Mitch to have lied to me. Maybe he’s not sick. But what is it then?

  I return my attention back to the movie I’m watching. Rocky I. I love these movies. I lean back against my propped up pillows on my bed and shovel another scoop of cookie dough ice-cream into my mouth. I’m glad I picked up a two-liter tub earlier in the week. I doubt it’s going to last me the night. I’m planning to watch the first three movies in the series tonight. And, yeah, I’m a pig. I eat like an animal. John says it’s the boxing thing; that boxers eat a lot. I think he was just trying to make me feel better though.

  My phone starts buzzing on my bedside table. I answer it without looking.

  “Nicola,” a familiar voice answers before I can get a word out.

  I freeze. Oh my God. It’s her.

  “I told you not to call me. Ever.”

  “It’s important,” she responds.

  “Impossible,” I fire back.

  “I need you to listen to me, darling—”

  I hang up abruptly and stare in shock at my phone. I can’t believe it. It’s been two years and nothing. Since I went off to college at nineteen, I cut all contact with her. And now, suddenly, out of the blue, she calls me? How did she even get my number? That’s the most disturbing thing. Shit. I’ll have to change it yet again. What did she want? No, that doesn’t matter. I don’t give a crap. I don’t put up with her bi-polar crazy ass crap any more.

  She lost that when she let that psycho in. When she let him do those things to me.

  God, I feel sick. I climb off the bed and slam my ice-cream tub down on the kitchen table.

  “Argh!” I scream.

  I haul open the fridge and pull out the six-pack of beer inside. I rip open the box, screw off the top of one bottle, and down half the damn thing. I wipe my mouth and lean over the counter and try to catch my breath. My chest is tightening with anxiety. I can barely breathe. I need to calm down. I finish the rest of the beer and start on another. I need to be numb. I can’t process this right now.

  This is what that bitch does to me. Just hearing her voice ripped right through me, instantly bringing back every memory of all that hell four years ago. I hate her!

  I need to call John. No, I can’t. He’s sick…or something. He’s got his own things to deal with right now. Besides, if I tel
l him about this he’ll freak out and overreact…worse than I am.

  I fight the urge to call her back and rip into her. But that’s what she wants; my attention.

  Fuck you, Mom.

  ***

  “She knew I was lying,” Mitch tells me as he joins me on the couch for the game. College football. The Ivy leagues.

  “She doesn’t know. She suspects.” Shit, can’t we just watch a game without any fucking drama? Is that too much to ask?

  “Semantics, John. It’s only a matter of time before she steamrolls her way in here.”

  Fine. I guess not. He’s gonna keep pushing this. Argh! I blow out a breath and shift my weight to face him. “Well, how bad does it look now?”

  He scrutinizes me. “You still look like you’ve been used as a punching bag. The black eye is still there. The cuts on your face. Plus, you’re still having issues walking cuz of your ribs.” His expression becomes grave as he adds, “But you don’t have any more time to wait for it to heal.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He draws in a breath and breaks eye contact. Oh shit. This is bad. He looks nervous. Mitch never looks nervous. He takes a swig of his beer, but doesn’t offer up anything further.

  “Seriously? You’re not gonna tell me now?”

  He clears his throat and struggles to look at me as he says, “Earlier today, I caught Nicki and Axel…fooling around outside the Psych building.”

  “And?” I say as coolly as possible even as my stomach churns at the thought of it.

  “Don’t bother hiding it.”

  What? “Hiding what?”

  “You guys crossed the line. You’re not just friends anymore.”

  I change the subject. Avoidance is my specialty. “So they were…what?...making out?”

  “It looked like he was getting her off. Finger fucking her. She had her hands on his belt. I stopped it. The guy’s manipulating her. It was obvious—but not to her. I’m not sure she believed me. He’s stepped up his game, John. I doubt it will be long now. You need to do something.”

  They were doing what? She let him do what to her? What the fuck? I bolt from the couch and immediately regret it as my abs burn painfully. I grip the couch to steady myself. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Look how it turned out the last time I tried to warn him off her!”

 

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