by Laura Beege
“She was my best friend. She trusted me and I abused that trust for a little fun. It’s not a guilt thing. It’s not like I just blame myself for her death. I’m fully responsible.” I heard the lump building in his throat and how he fought through it to keep talking. “I never told anyone but right afterwards, I saw her for weeks. Just from the corner of my eyes or reflected in a window. I was miserable, haunted by my own memory. Then, for a while, I had reached a point where I just expected her to be there. I went into my room and started talking to her about music and only when I turned around, I realized she wasn’t actually there. And then she became nothing but a faint memory. Except for when I tried to close my eyes. The second I did, everything was on repeat in my head. The song, the rain, her cry.”
He stopped and I didn’t know what to say. He was as honest as he was when he was singing and I didn’t know how to reply.
Had it been a dare? A lost bet? A promise? All sorts of scenarios raced through my mind. Trace, holding a gun at Poppy’s forehead. Trace, being drunk and daring Poppy to jump off a bridge. I couldn’t… I wasn’t… I stayed still and breathed in and breathed out, waiting for him to speak up again. “You look like my dead best friend. That’s why I couldn’t stand looking at you. I hated you for reminding me of the blood on my hands. But you’re nothing like Poppy. Looking at you, I can’t see her anymore, Tony.”
I flinched when he said my real name. Coming from him, it almost sounded wrong. I dug deep to find my voice, “What happened?”
“The band had a gig in Bristol and she was riding home with me in Mum’s old car. It was pouring. The rain was like a thick, white curtain but I was still riding the high from the crowd cheering for us. I was binged up and reckless and I wanted to prove that I succeeded at everything I did. She didn’t need proof. She knew I was exaggerating but she laughed and joked along. It turned out, I can’t keep a car under control with one hand and draw a portrait with the other hand. The car spun out, crashed through the traffic barrier and we went flying. That’s what I hear when I try to fall asleep. I hear the barrier breaking and I hear Poppy screaming my name on the top of her lungs and that bloody Billy Idol song on the radio. Always the song. I don’t remember what I saw when we crashed. I don’t remember the pain. But there’s the chorus of Rebel Yell.”
An accident.
I spun around and almost collided with his chest. His face was scrunched up and right then it was him, avoiding to look at me. He looked healthy on the outside, but inside he was in pain because he’d been stupid in a car. He’d behaved childish. He had made a mistake and it still hurt him. All the anger I had stowed vanished into thin air and was replaced by the incredible need, physical and emotional, to take care of him for once. To be the strong one for a change.
My body was magnetically drawn to him. Resistance was futile. I wrapped my arms around his mid and pressed my face into his sternum. I wanted to let myself fall into the sensations tingling through my body as much as I wanted to give him as much hold as I could. He wrapped an arm around my mid and the other hand went into my hair, holding me tight against him.
He shouldn’t have kept Poppy from me but I understood why he had. The guilt was eating him up and he wanted to talk about it as much as I wanted to bring up the nights of dancing naked on pool tables. I couldn’t fathom how much harder it was when your stupid behavior had such a big impact.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his chest. “Remind me not to run away again until I know the whole story.”
“Remind me not to let you.” He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and said, “When I came here to explain and you were gone…” I heard him swallow. “I thought I’d die. I freaked out. Damn, my room looks much worse than the office.”
I couldn’t deny that at the same time that I felt bad about bringing this sort of misery down on him it felt nice to be important enough to have a room trashed over me. “We’ll clean it up later.”
Several seconds passed and in the silence, I could hear his heart beating only inches from my ear. It was a fast but steady rhythm and I pieced together why he’d punched Wesley and why he’d paled when he caught me in his brother’s bed. Why he’d freaked out when we were out in the rain. Why he’d asked me not to leave when he’d been drunk. Everything made sense. And Wesley turned into a major douchebag. He’d known all along what my presence put Trace through.
“When I left in the morning, I went to her grave. It sounds crazy, I know, but Poppy used to be the only person I actually talked to. I have no idea how this heaven and hell thing works but I had to tell her about you in case she’s not watching. So I spent my morning talking to an ugly headstone about that girl I could fall asleep next to, the one that could be a real pain in the ass sometimes. She does odd, sweet things like blushing, rambling, trying to hide behind her hair and concentrating on the breaths she takes when she tries to keep control. She’s afraid of her past and doesn’t realize that she’s much stronger than it. She also has the hottest fucking tattoo I’ve ever seen.”
I felt tears brimming behind my closed lids and kissed the center of his chest. His words were pulling at my heartstrings and I knew I’d carry them with me until the day I died. Trace Baker had just conquered my heart for good. It was his now. Irreversibly.
I fought the urge to cry and leaned back to look up at him with the brightest smile I could muster up. “That girl sounds like a lot of work.”
“She’s worth it,” he answered without hesitation.
Sliding my hands up his hard arms, I cradled his jaw, running my fingers over the stubby hairs there before I pulled his face down and moved my weight to my tiptoes to meet him halfway. His sweet breath tickled my lips just before he covered them with his.
This was a new kind of kiss. It wasn’t burning me up. It was slow but deep, careful but confident. His tongue traced my lips and I opened up to him as his hand slipped from my hair to my neck, holding me up and close. I liked kissing him like this, knowing I was safe and having my heart flutter against my ribcage at the same time. I could have spent all night locked to his lips, but my phone started buzzing behind me – sooner than expected. I would have given it days, if not a week, until he called again. Dropping to my heels, I broke the kiss and reached for my phone with a sliver of hope that it wasn’t Dad but the screen was lit up by an ‘Unknown Caller.’
Trace pulled my hand to his face and placed a kiss to the inside of my palm. “You don’t have to do it.”
“I do,” I sighed and tapped the screen to accept the call. I used the chirpy voice that used to get me anything I wanted. “Hello?”
“Are you alone?” Of course Dad wouldn’t waste time on something like a quick Hi.
“No, give me a second.” I placed my hand over the mic and looked at Trace. He understood without words that I was about to have a draining business conversation that couldn’t benefit from listeners. For me, however, there was more to it: I couldn’t make the deal it would take to get the money and look at what I would lose. I’d back out. I’d ruin the one chance I had to save the pub if Trace stood right before me.
Trace shot a last encouraging smile my way, then left me alone with my Dad on the other end of the line. “Okay. We’re good,” I said and forgot to use the But-I-really-really-want-that-dress-Daddy voice.
“How’s London?”
I closed my eyes and wrapped my hand around a bedpost. There was nothing Dad couldn’t find out about you. “It’s nice. I love the rain, but the people here are strangely polite. You bump into them and they apologize to you.”
“I remember. Your mother was just like that.”
I knew he was trying to get to me and manipulate me through Theresa. Apparently he didn’t have enough eyes and ears around to know that I was through with that chapter of my life. My mother had left when I was a child and moved on. So had I. “Look, Dad, I’ll get straight to the point. I need money. A lot of it. A good friend of mine is in trouble and I need your help to help him.”
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��Kid, you know they took everything away from us.” And now he tried to make me feel guilty. Like it was such hard work to get fifty grand. I knew his moves as well as he knew them himself.
“Don’t play games with me, Dad. I know of at least six people that owe you money and I know that you’re not stupid enough to let the cops take all you have.”
“Well, it looks like someone paid attention to what was going on around her. I’m proud of you, Antonia. You almost had me fooled with your endless string of boys and tequila.”
I tried to cover how much his words stung with a throaty laugh. He was the last person I wanted to impress. “Yes, well, I need fifty thousand ASAP.”
“Victoria Coach Station, gate five at noon. You’re not going back, so bring someone to take the money.” Well, you had to give it to him, he’d always been good at coming up with impromptu plans.
“Where am I going?” I asked, already contemplating how to go about leaving here.
“You’re coming back home. You’re my daughter, whether you want to or not, and it would benefit us both if the long lost child returned.” It would benefit him more than me to have his only child on his throne and within his reach, but I’d accepted this option the second I’d offered my help to Alex.
“Return where? Our house is gone.”
“I found a house in L.A. for us. I already talked to the current owner. He’d be happy to sell it for a dollar.”
“Los Angeles?” I couldn’t keep the horror from rising up my throat. “Are you trying to get me killed?” Dad might be the biggest wolf in Arizona, but California – let alone L.A. – was a lion cage. You couldn’t throw a wolf puppy in there and expect it to come out on top.
“I expect you to show up tomorrow. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t.” Not because I didn’t want to…
Dad hung up and I let the dial tone ring in my ears for several more seconds as my plan unfolded in my mind.
If Trace knew what I was going to do, he’d try to stop me. He’d make sure I wouldn’t get to Victoria Station. So I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t take all my things with me – only what fit into my backpack. The rest would stay here to make it look like I was coming back. I’d have to pack now, before I told Trace that we were picking up the money tomorrow. I wouldn’t get much privacy after that.
Shaking the contents of my backpack onto my bed, I made a mental list of everything I had to pack and what I’d wear tomorrow. I packed my new Oxford shirt and my old ankle boots, shimmied out of my favorite skirt and threw it into the backpack, too. The memory cards I used to take pictures went in, but the camera stayed. I’d buy a new one for myself. My denim jacket and wallet were the last things to go in, leaving only my phone for tomorrow morning.
After jumping into a skirt that vaguely resembled the one I’d packed, I carried my toilet bag into the bathroom and knocked on Trace’s door on my way back to my room. It took him barely five seconds to follow me inside.
“Tomorrow at twelve at Victoria Station where the coaches leave,” I said.
“I’m coming with you.”
“That’s the plan,” I smiled and slipped my hand into his. Maybe, if life would have taken a different course, I could have become an actress. Keeping secrets and acting weren’t too different from each other.
“I didn’t think he’d get the money here so quickly.”
“You underestimate my father.” I laced my fingers through his. “He probably already has the money in London. He just wouldn’t want to rush anything.”
“And now we wait,” he stated.
“Actually, now you kiss me.” I let my head fall back and looked up at him, trying to edge his face into my memory, so I could recall his words and his strength whenever I needed to.
Trace’s eyes darkened as they searched mine. He placed a soft kiss on my mouth and pulled back to inspect my face some more. I couldn’t help but smile because I wasn’t such a good actress after all. He knew something was up, but I’d take his mind off that. Shaking my head at him, I grinned “I really need a decent, mind-numbing kiss right now.”
Eighteen
I got what I asked for. Trace kissed me with a passion that made my whole body come to life. My skin prickled, my pulse hammered in my ears and his hands left burning trails on my arms as they moved down to my hips. They were still very safely above my clothes but the mere thought of where they could go set a bomb off in the pit of my belly and a soft sigh fled my throat. I gripped his shoulders to hang onto. Beneath my touch, the muscles of his back were moving as he bent down further and his hands closed around my waist. Suddenly I lost the floor beneath my feet as he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his mid immediately, pushing my skirt up to my hips and holding him between naked thighs. He must have noticed too, because he groaned into the kiss as one of his hands fell to my leg and his fingers brushed the hem of my panties.
God, how I loved hearing those sounds. And I knew just how to evoke them. Moving my kiss to his jaw and towards his neck, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and held it tight. He groaned again and moved us towards the bed, where he fell down, me sitting in his lap. I already felt his excitement pressing against me and it sent my stomach through a loop. Trace was out of his shirt in the blink of an eye. I took the chance to run my hands over the smooth skin of his shoulders, then dropped my touch over his chest and his hard stomach, towards the hem of his jeans. He was breathing heavily, but I was still wearing way too many clothes, so I moved my fingers from his lap to mine and grabbed my shirt, yanking it off, too.
He had his hands already at my skirts zipper, before I had the shirt fully off, and pulled that piece of clothing up over my head, too.
“Now, that’s just unfair,” I fake-pouted and looked down at his jeans.
“I’ll change that, hang on,” he chuckled and moved his fingers to his button, but I quickly pushed his hands away. This was something I wanted to do. I’d always loved unwrapping presents.
I moved off his lap and popped open the button, then slowly, oh, so slowly, I opened the zipper. Trace made a low sound from deep within his chest and my patience was torn. I pulled his jeans off, but before I had the chance to go for his boxer briefs, he’d caught hold of my arms and pulled me back into his lap. I felt his hardness closer than ever. Only two very thin layers of clothes forbidding me my pleasure.
“I want you,” I sighed and kissed him, the movement causing him to rub against my still-covered entrance and sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re so goddamn sexy,” he rumbled and slipped a finger into my panties. I couldn’t keep the gasp in as he slid it down towards my center and then slipped it inside me. My body immediately welcomed him, my muscles tightening around him. “Hot and wet for me already.”
“Hmmm…” was all I could produce as buried my face in his neck and pushed against his touch.
Without taking his hand out of my panties, he flipped me over into the mattress and pulled the last cloth south of my navel off my body, too. I took care of the northern clothes and when Trace came up to meet me for a kiss, I felt his naked length against the inside of my thigh.
I wanted to feel him closer, to connect my body with his, even if it was the first and only time I could do it. Maybe even because I knew I wouldn’t get the chance to be close to him again after tomorrow. This was my goodbye.
I gave his shoulders a gentle push and he understood, letting me turn him over on his back. I quickly followed, biting my lip at the sight of his hardness. I kneeled over him and let my hand slide over him, luring a loud groan from his lips, before I brought it close to my center. He held onto my hips, steadying them above him. I already felt the tip at my entrance when I realized I wasn’t sure whether I wanted this to be wild ride he’d never forget or a slow and steady one with no surprises. Before I could decide, he rocked his hips against mine, slipping inside me and all worries fled my mind. I moaned and sank down on him, letting him fill me. Again, my insides tensed and gave him that
tiny, happy squeeze.
“God, Kitty,” he breathed and ran his hands up my sides to my breasts. He pinched my nipples and I leaned forward, into his touch, letting him slip out a bit, then I moved back down and sighed.
Trace moved with me and it turned out to be neither wild, nor tame. We just moved at whichever pace felt good. With him being so much taller than me, it turned out to be difficult to kiss when I was on top, so when I was speeding up, closer and closer to my peak, Trace flicked me over again and kissed me feverishly. His tongue and mine tangled and he locked his fingers with mine, pressing our entwined hands into the pillow. He thrust into me and I felt him deeper than before. I felt him as close as I would ever feel him.
I looked up into his eyes, glazy with pleasure with a smile tugging at his lips. “God, you’re sexy,” he breathed. His face was filled with affection and trust and I smiled back up at him, knowing that I could never close this chapter of my life. I might never see him again, but my heart would keep this image of his tender eyes safe.
He rolled his hips forward again, and I came undone, moaning his name against his lips as the world around me spun out of control.
A few thrusts later, he came with his lips pressed against my neck. When he moved aside and fell into bed next to me, panting, cold washed over me. From this point forward, I wouldn’t feel this close to any man ever again – not even Trace himself.
Trace picked up my hand and started kissing the tips of my fingers. I felt him staring, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath.
“I’m fine,” I lied and smiled at him, but had to turn away quickly to hide the tears springing to my eyes. “Just tired.” I pressed my lids shut but felt a tear slipping out anyway. It ran down the side of my face and into the pillow.
