by Loretta Lost
“Okay, mister. Stop being so charming and let me work,” I tell him, playfully smacking his hand.
“Will you email me the first few chapters of your book?” he asks.
I hesitate, torn between giving in and maintaining a safe distance. Do I really want to let him in? I remember the sweet waitress who said that I should allow myself to feel excited and happy. I find myself nodding. “Sure,” I say softly, letting my fingers fly across my keyboard. “Sending it now.”
“Great,” he responds. “I want to be there for you, Winter. I want to be the one who makes it easier. I want to try my hardest to give you something new to make life worthwhile. A new reason. A new way to be happy.”
“Something new?” I repeat as I finish sending the email. I turn to glance in his direction as I hear him retrieving his own computer and moving into the chair next to me. “What do you mean?”
“What do you think?” he asks with a chuckle. He reaches over to place his hand on my thigh and squeezes it gently. “There’s only one thing that could be more powerful than your art. More powerful than your personal fulfillment. It’s the thing that everyone on this planet wants more than anything else.”
Say it. Please say it. A little voice inside me yearns to hear the word. I hold my breath, imagining the sound of the word spilling from his lips. I can hear it in my mind. I know it’s in both of our minds. I know it’s the reason for everything. I just need to hear it anyway. Say the word. Please, Liam. Promise me everything.
“Don’t you know, silly girl? You’re the one who writes about it.”
“Like I said,” I tell him softly. “I’m good at writing; not so much at living.”
“I’ll teach you how to live,” he says with determination. “And I’ll try to give you what you’ve really been seeking all along...”
I wait, listening closely for him to say the word. I don’t know why. I probably wouldn’t believe him if he said it. Why do I want to hear it anyway?
A loud banging alerts me to the sound of someone at the door. It wasn’t the sound that I was expecting, and it startles me.
“Excuse me,” Liam says, removing his hand from my leg and pulling away. I hear him stand up from his chair and move across the room to answer the door.
I exhale in disappointment, releasing the breath that I had been holding. My stomach is all in knots, and I can’t believe how badly I wanted to hear those words. I have never been a fan of big romantic declarations, and here I am, sitting on pins and needles as I anxiously wait to hear the coveted syllables.
Instead, I hear a crash.
My head snaps to the entryway where Liam has just opened the door to his apartment. I am not sure if he is expecting someone. Has he ordered delivery food? I seem to vaguely recall him mentioning something about that. However, there is another crash that causes the apartment walls to shake. It sounds like someone’s fist just went through the drywall.
“Liam?” I say nervously, standing up from my chair.
“No, Helen. It’s me.”
I stand there blinking and stunned at the sound of Grayson’s voice. How is this possible? I thought he had been committed to a psychiatric facility.
“They let me go,” he says in a hideous rasp. “It turns out that I’m not as crazy as you’d think.”
“How did you find me?” I ask him. My breathing is quickening.
“I found out where the doctor worked and followed you two home from the hospital. This is a nice little setup he’s got here.”
“What did you do to him?” I ask. I haven’t heard Liam’s voice since before he answered the door. I can’t even hear his breathing or moving.
“I hit him on the head with a crowbar,” Grayson says with a laugh. “Too bad his fancy martial arts couldn’t protect him from that.”
“But your arms,” I say in a hushed tone. “They’re broken...”
“This ugly son of a bitch only broke one of my arms. The other one was simply dislocated. And I can still swing a fucking crowbar into his skull. Too bad you can’t see this, Helen. I’m going to do it again. This time, I’m going to smash his brains until all his memories of you leak out onto these shiny hardwood floors. You belong to me.”
“No!” I shout as I spring into action. I am no longer paralyzed with fear. I reach to my side and grab one of the chairs I had been sitting on and throw it at Grayson with all the strength I can muster. I hear the chair smash against his body, and I run to the kitchen to grab the biggest knife from Liam’s set. “Get the fuck away from us!” I scream as I brandish the knife and move toward Grayson.
A sharp pain shoots through my hand as he swings the crowbar and hits me in the wrist. I gasp as the knife clatters to the floor.
“You went with him willingly!” Grayson says to me hysterically. “You wanted him. You never wanted me. That’s why this fucker needs to die. If I can’t have you, he sure as hell won’t.”
“Stop!” I scream, but I hear another sickening sound as Grayson swings the crowbar. I dive forward and try to intercept the impact, but I’m too late. I stumble forward and feel the instrument embedded in Liam’s head. A wail of grief leaves my throat as I press both of my hands over the wound. “Liam? Liam! No. No.” I move my hands over his face, touching his shoulders and shaking him gently, trying to stir him to life. “No,” I whisper in disbelief. “You can’t go. You need to stay with me. I don’t have anyone else. You were going to say that you loved me. I love you, too. We need to love each other. Please, please stay.” The warm liquid is seeping out of his cracked skull and onto my hands and knees. I feel a sob shake my shoulders. “Liam!”
My heartache is interrupted as I feel a hand go around my throat, dragging me to my feet and pulling me up to a standing position. I am too weak and drained to fight.
“It’s his own fault,” Grayson says as he pushes me up against the kitchen island. He reaches down and begins to hike up my skirt. “He tried to keep me from having you. But I will have you again, Helen. I’ll do anything to have you just one more time.”
Like a lightning bolt shooting through me, rage fills me with power and strength. I remember my judo training as he puts his hand on my body, and I grab it and twist it until I manage to take him down.
“Fuck you!” I scream at him as I pound my hands into his face. “You monster! Liam was a good man. The best. You’re worthless! I should have killed you! I should have killed you with your own gun, that night! Oh, god. This is my fault.”
Realizing that my lack of bravery has resulted in Liam’s murder, sobs of guilt and despair begin to rack my chest. Tears pour down my face. “Fuck you,” I whisper. “I hope you burn in hell.”
“I will,” Grayson assures me, catching my wrist in his hand. “But first, I’m going to have a little taste of heaven. Inside you.”
He releases my wrist and grabs a fistful of my hair, slamming my head into Liam’s stainless steel refrigerator. I scream and struggle against him, but the dizziness overpowers me. I find myself being forced face down onto the kitchen tiles. The ground is cold against my cheek as Grayson tears at my skirt and underwear.
“I promised you it would be worse this time,” he whispers as he shoves his knees between my thighs to separate them. “Let’s do things a little differently, my angel.”
I feel like I am drowning. I am sobbing and screaming hysterically, unable to properly defend myself as my heart aches with loss of Liam. I don’t even care what happens to me anymore. I am enraged and devastated, vicious and lifeless all at the same time. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know what to do.
I struggle. I struggle and scream and cry. “Liam!” I shout brokenly, begging all the gods to bring him back to life. I need my knight in shining armor. Maybe if I just knew he was alive, I could be strong. “Please!” I shriek as I try to wrestle with Grayson. For a man with one broken arm, he is impossibly strong and somehow still able to effectively restrain me. I try to reach backwards and grab his broken arm and hurt him, but he doesn’t see
m to care. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, twisting my neck so he can force his mouth down against mine.
“My sweet, sweet Helen. My pure, innocent angel. I will have you in all the ways I’ve always dreamed of having you...”
“Liam!” I scream through my sobs. I pound my fist into the floor, wishing that it would make the whole apartment building crumble on top of us. “Liam! Please. Please, no.”
“Whoa, whoa! Winter, calm down. Wake up. I’m right here.”
I suddenly stop struggling and grow very still. I feel a body pressed on top of mine and restraining me, but he doesn’t seem to be trying to hurt me. I feel the tears staining my cheeks, but I don’t feel the pain in my wrist or my head.
“Liam?” I whisper again.
“It was a dream,” he tells me. “You were having a nightmare and flailing all over the place.”
“I don’t...” I can’t seem to speak as the tears continue to pour down my face. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” As soon as he stops restraining me, I reach up and wrap my arms around him tightly. I continue to sob as I cling to him for dear life and bury my face in his shoulder.
“Hey, hey. Shhh. It was all just in your head,” he says tenderly as he holds me. “That was the mother of all nightmares, Winter. What the hell happened in that fertile brain of yours? Do all writers dream like this? Jesus. I thought you were going to break my bed in half.”
I finally stop crying enough to speak. The sound of his calm voice is soothing and reassuring. Still, the bitter taste of the nightmare lingers with me—it was so realistic.
“He hit you on the head with a crowbar,” I tell Liam. “You were gone. I felt you die.”
“Oh, Winter. Who did? Grayson?”
I nod in response, my arms still tightly clenched around Liam.
“Honey, I broke both of his arms, remember? He’s not going to be able to even lift a crowbar for a long time. Shhh, just breathe slowly. You need to relax.”
I realize then that I’m clinging to him like a child. I realize how pathetic and needy I must seem. If he had trouble with my issues before... he’ll never be able to love me now. I have screwed this up for good.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, pulling away and reaching up to wipe the sweat away from my forehead. “God, I’m so stupid. You shouldn’t have to deal with my drama and bullshit. I should just go home and leave you to live your life in peace.”
“Winter, you are my peace.”
“You’re just saying shit to make me feel better. Thanks.” I rub my eyes with a groan. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
“You wrote for about two hours at the kitchen table, but then you fell asleep on your work. I think it was a side effect of the drugs we gave you. When our pizza delivery came, and holding a slice under your nose wouldn’t wake you up, I carried you to bed.”
“Pizza delivery?” I respond, remembering the knock at the door in my dream.
“Yes. Remember we decided we were going to get pizza on the way home? I told you about that gourmet place that does the super thin crusts with spinach and heaps of feta.”
“Oh, god.” I press both of my palms against my eyes and hold them there for a moment. “Liam. I am so fucked up. You shouldn’t be with me.”
“I want to be with you. I don’t care that you have nightmares. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”
“What?” I say in surprise, removing my palms from my eyes.
“I’m sorry if that makes me uncool. I know it’s kind of soon to use that word. But it’s what I feel for you, Winter. I love you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head as tears stream down my cheeks. “This is another nightmare. You don’t really feel that way. It’s just a dream. Wake up. Wake up.”
“Why would you think that I don’t?”
“I’m not healthy. You didn’t even want to touch me. This is fucked up. We’re fucked up. I ruined this. I’m not normal. I’m not well-adjusted. I can’t be excited or happy or hopeful. You don’t want me.”
“Will you let me show you?” Liam asks, pressing kisses against my tear-soaked face. He kisses my clammy lips, holding me close against him. “Will you let me show you how I really feel?”
“What do you mean?” I ask him miserably, torn between the need to cling desperately to him, and the urge to run the hell away and get on the first flight out of the goddamn country.
“I said I wasn’t going to hold back anymore,” he whispers against my face. “So let me love you.” He presses a kiss against each of my closed eyelids before moving lower to rain kisses down against my neck and chest.
Somehow, he instantly stirs the fire inside me. I go from being filled with terror to being filled with desire. I use the feelings that his touch causes within me to try and forget everything negative that I just experienced. The terror and fear dissipates and I let my body respond to his hands and mouth. My back arches and I slide my hands up over his muscular arms. My body is screaming at me and begging for anything good. For anything that means that I’m not alone. For anything that might mean that I could actually be loved.
“Please,” I say again, so softly that I am sure that he cannot hear me. “Liam, I need you so much.”
This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He reaches under my skirt to grab the sides of my underwear and slide it down over my legs. He also quickly disposes of his own pants and shirt before moving back on top of me. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks me.
I nod and reach up to hug him tightly, praying that he won’t change his mind again. Tears are still sliding down my face; I am trying but failing to keep it together. I feel like I am irreparably damaged, and his touch is the only thing that can mend me. In this moment, I need him like I need air.
He positions himself at my entrance and then hesitates. “I should get one of the condoms...”
“No,” I say, grabbing him tightly in fear. I feel like if anything interrupts this now, it will never happen. “Please, Liam,” I sob softly. “I don’t care. I don’t care. I just need you.”
He leans down to place a kiss against my lips, lightly brushing his fingers across my neck. “Okay,” he says softly.
When he begins to press himself inside me, the feelings flood my entire body. The vast volumes of fear and longing threaten to tear me apart. I tremble as I remember how it felt to lose him in my dream. In so many ways, he is my lifeline. He’s my reason. I want to give myself to him completely. I want to hold him close and treasure his life and strength. I never want to feel that pain of loss again. But I know I will. I just want to forget. I want to feel like everything’s going to be okay.
Life is a terrible thing that likes to rip away the ones that we love. At least, if I really do lose him someday, I could say that we had this moment together. I can lose everything else, but I can’t lose this. Just one moment. I have been searching for it for the longest time.
Every time I get close to feeling any sort of pleasure, it feels like the sky cracks open to rain down thunder on me. Please. Don’t let it happen this time.
I just need one moment.
One moment of peace. One moment of being loved.
Won’t the universe be good to me for a change? I need one perfect moment to remember, in case I never have another perfect moment. Sometimes, I think I never will.
I lift my lips to place a kiss against the edge of his jaw. I am not entirely sure if I intended to kiss him here, or if my aim was off, but I can’t seem to pull away. I love the taste of his skin.
That small touch seems to be all the encouragement he needs, for he releases all his inhibitions and plunges himself inside me. I gasp out and cling to him, angling my hips to give him better access. I want to feel him more deeply inside me than anyone has ever been. I want him to heal everything in me that’s broken.
Liam groans, and he seems to lose control of himself as he gives into the sensations. Something carnal and raw takes control of his body as he moves inside me with the utter abandon of a
man possessed. He is no longer the careful, polite doctor that he portrays on the outside; he is the powerful, savage creature that I always knew lingered just beneath his skin. He thrusts himself so deeply inside me that I cry out in pleasure.
And for a moment, I swear that I can see all the colors in the universe.
“No, I’ve never had any allergic reactions.”
“Great. It says here that you’ve never had any other surgeries? Nothing at all? Even something small is important to know. Wisdom teeth, plastic surgery.”
“Nothing,” I tell the anesthesiologist.
“Wonderful,” she says, flipping through her papers. “I’m sorry for taking so long, I just want to confirm everything to be really thorough. Moderate drinking? Non-smoker?”
“That’s all correct,” I tell her, suppressing a yawn at the endless questioning.
“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road!” she says. “I’m going to be right back in a moment to put you to sleep.”
“Peachy,” I mumble as she leaves the room. “You could have just kept talking and I’m sure it would have knocked me out.”
The door closes behind her, but it opens again a moment later. I hear the sound of shoes squeaking on the floor as someone else approaches. I smile when I recognize the soles of the footwear and the sound of the gait. “Liam,” I say softly.
Without a word, he comes over to the operating table and places his hand on the curve of my hip. The warmth of his skin easily seeps through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. He does not speak, but he leans down to place a kiss on my lips.
I kiss back for a moment, and my body is instantly flooded with heat and yearning. I wish that I could pull him down against me and ask him to take me right here on this operating table. Instead, I place a hand on his chest and gently push him away.
