by Celia Crown
Being taken to jail for a hit and run isn’t what I need right now, and life has a funny way of supporting me by gracing me with all red lights.
The steering wheel would have bent to my strength if it wasn’t sturdy, but my knuckles remain a ghastly white as my irritation runs at an all-time high. I get easily irritated when I don’t see Rebecca; my subordinates hate when I don’t go see her because they know that I’ll become more unreasonable to deal with.
I follow the GPS through the city, hitting traffic at prime time, and I am tempted to step on the gas to rear-end the cars so they can get out of my way. I’ll pay their shitty insurances if they stop wasting my time by trying to get into lanes that move a bit faster.
Then they have the balls to try to return back to their lane.
Freeway is such a bad idea, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I can think about is getting Rebecca back into my arms again. I miss the way her body would melt into mine and I would smell her floral scent from her shampoo.
When I finally get to the neighborhood where she lives, I take note of the bustling businesses and the buildings. They aren’t the highest in security measures, but it’s adequate enough to let a key be an access point up to apartment units.
After I park my car, I catch the door just as someone leaves. The elevator is a bit tricky since it needs a key to access the floor numbers, and another problem arises when I don’t know her unit number.
Shit luck as the last person I expect is to see the roommate jumping into the elevator with me. We stand there in silence with strong eye contact., I won’t back down and neither does Moira.
“I thought you died,” she states plainly, tapping her resident card on the scanner and pushing the eighth floor.
I don’t entertain her.
“Look here, you wannabe George Clooney,” she hisses, “Just because you’re hot and probably rich, it doesn’t mean I’m going to let you near Becca again.”
My grey eyes pierce her gritty gaze; her teeth are bared with a hint of scorn. I wouldn’t waste my breath explaining anything to this woman when Rebecca is the only one who needs to understand this whole mess is just bad timing and a misunderstanding.
Maybe she will believe me or maybe she won’t, but I’m set to do whatever it takes for her to forgive me. Only she could make the decision by herself; no outside influence can let their opinion into her mind and poison her thoughts.
I have unintentionally done that.
“You—!” She screams in frustration, stomping out the elevator door and zooming down the hall with her keys jiggling.
She tries to swing the door shut, but my hand catches the door as I glare furiously at her. I’m on edge, any little thing can trigger volatile wrath in me and I hate to crush this door under my hand if this infuriating woman doesn’t get out of my way.
Her heels scatter by the door, and she trudges forward. Out of respect for Rebecca, I take off my shoes too and follow shortly after the fuming woman.
The unit isn’t much to look at; closed rooms which I assume are the bedrooms while it comes with an open kitchen next to the living room and a bathroom. There is nothing else to look at other than the balcony that is closed and curtains are drawn to preserve privacy.
I expect to see Rebecca somewhere on the couch or in the kitchen making something to eat, but I see a man near the same age as I am and similarly built. The main difference between us is that his thin-rim glasses are perched on his nose and the flair of clothes resembles a professor with his cardigan.
However, I see my Rebecca next to him with my pretty smile.
“Rebecca,” my voice startles her, her luscious body spins around with her big, brown eyes taking me in.
She squeaks, “Um, Derek.”
The man looks at her with interest, “Becca, who is he?”
She stammers, “Uh, Peter, he’s… well, it’s complicated—”
“Come here,” I command, and her body abruptly leaves the man’s side and joins me before she could even utter a word.
Good, she remembers who she belongs to.
My hand clasps over her hip rather possessively, hauling her back with me as I direct her to one of the rooms. She takes the hint and grabs the door handle closest to the living room; it’s got to be her room and it’s perfect.
She has no escape from me now, but I don’t want her to feel trapped, so I adopted my position further into the room.
Rebecca flicks the light on to brighten the already well-lit room; it is redundant but it makes her comfortable, and I want her to relax as this isn’t an interrogation. She looks too frightened and upset to be taking my appearance as fearlessly as her roommate. I venture a step forward.
She’s firmly planted in her spot. I step in front of her. Her eyes are cast down on the ground with her wiggling toes and fighting hands.
“Rebecca,” I purr, “I missed you.”
I lift her head up with my hands under her jaw. Her skin jumps at the contact, and I caress her silken skin. I deliberately press down on a spot behind her ears, and her body surrenders to mine, mewling shakily as she tries to support herself.
Her surprised yelp is cute, but it’s better when her creamy thighs are around my hips as I hoist her up to sit on the bed. She squirms on my lap, pushing her tiny hands to my chest as I cling around her plush hips.
She has lost weight, I notice as she feels lighter and I don’t like it. I hate to think that I’m the one that is the core reason as to why she’s neglecting her body.
Well, we have time to make up for it, and eating with her sounds like the best thing to do.
I let her lay her head on my shoulder, running firm strokes along her spine. She curves into my warmth, seeking the addiction that I also feel with her pliable frame.
“Talk to me,” I said quietly in her ear as I kiss the shell of it.
Her head turns, as she presses her ear on my shoulder while she looks over to the wall. This emotional distance she’s putting between us is a weak attempt to shut me out, to leave her alone when we both know that she doesn’t want that.
“Rebecca,” I try once again, “I don't know what’s wrong if you don’t talk to me.”
She ducks her forehead, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
She wants the truth, so do I. Letting her lead the conversation would give me an idea of what is going on in her head, she deserves better than some half-cooked truth that had me leaving her.
I want to keep her away from the world that I get my hands dirty in.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, adjusting so that she turns to me.
Rebecca closes her eyes, nosing around the pulse of my neck and staying in this tranquil beat of my blood. She doesn’t touch me with her hands, simply letting them be stuck between our bodies as I endlessly brush her back.
“I called,” she murmurs faintly.
Guilt eats at me, “I saw, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”
She sets her forehead on the side of my neck, “It’s okay, you’re busy.”
My business is my life. I have been working my ass off to get to where I am, and I am damn proud of it. Offers come flooding in at times, wanting to borrow money and other undesirable ‘individuals’ wanting to share this lucrative profession with me.
I run my job by myself with subordinates that have been with me for years.
“I can’t give you details, the less you know the safer you’ll be. However, know that I did not intentionally leave you. I wanted to call. I wanted to come back to you, but it took longer than I expected. I promise it won’t happen again.”
She hums in agreement, and it’s not genuine.
“You are not any less important than my work, but I can’t promise you that it won’t take precedence.” I’m ashamed to admit it, but that doesn’t sound good.
Reality never sounds pleasant.
“I was afraid that they would track you with my phone so I left it at home while I went overseas,” I explain, and she nods along wordle
ssly before she does speak.
She mumbles, “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
“That’s not true,” I kiss her red hair and coil my strong arms over her shaking body.
Moisture cools on my neck. I let her cry silently while her tiny hands scratch on my shirt.
“I will always want you, but you should think for yourself,” I said.
Her body seizes in stillness before she moves back to let our eyes meet. Those big teary eyes are going to be the death of me. I should be ashamed that I made her cry, but I’m a sick man who finds beauty in Rebecca’s distress.
“What do you mean?” She asks breathlessly.
I smile, sweeping her tears away with my thumb, “I’m not getting any younger, Rebecca. I won’t always look like this. You will find someone else.”
What I’m saying is completely untrue. I wouldn’t be the ruthless loan shark just by letting everyone step over me. Once I want something, I will have it through any means necessary.
Her hair is a swirl of fire red and sharpness as the ends hit me in the face. She whimpers wetly and presses her lips to mine, searching for the missing pieces of our time and bringing them back together by allowing our bodies to be airtight against one another.
“No! I want you forever!” Her lips turn down for a distraught pout to form.
I lick my lips, shielding the smirk that threatens to breach my demeanor.
“I love you.”
She gasps, blushing fervently with her pout lingering.
“I love you too.”
It’s soft and shy, but it resonates with the boisterous tempo of my heart.
Chapter Nine
Rebecca
“Move in with me,” Derek says the morning after our makeup.
It wasn’t a fight or anything. I couldn’t even categorize it as anything because it doesn’t fit anywhere. Nevertheless, he was the sweetest man last night, and I swore I almost got a cavity from the amount of spoiling he did to me.
He did more than loving me last night, and after grilling me about Peter who I met at the bar that one time, Derek had me bedridden with his strong body and used me like a rag doll.
I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes in the morning.
It’s bad that I wanted to keep my voice down, but he took that as a challenge to make me moan. Maybe I could have ignored Moira’s teasing grin, but she and Peter had been going at it from her room. They were loud and freaky, and I didn’t know what to feel about that experience.
“I can’t,” I say back, “My lease isn’t up yet. I signed for a whole year.”
I bite into a piece of toast, looking over to the lovely couple being extra gross on the couch. I met Peter through a bar and he gave me his number but then I never called him because I wasn’t interested and I only wanted Derek.
Moira, being the troublesome woman that she is, called him and set up a meeting. I didn’t know what her agenda was, but she came back with this swooning expression and something clicked in my mind.
She and Peter matched quiet unexpectedly.
They have been dating for close to a month now, and I have never seen her settle down for this long. The longest relationship she had was maybe three days. It’s hard to keep up with all the people she dates; they begin to look the same after a while.
I could remember some because they didn’t take the breakup easy, but Moira never lets them back into her life. She became friends with some of the people she dated. They were kind to me and treated me with the same respect as Moira.
They are standup people, but I could see it in their eyes that they still want Moira and that they miss her.
“Then, I’ll move in with you.” Derek sets his glass of water down.
My eyes widen, choking on the dry bread.
That is never going to work; the apartment manager is a stickler for rules, and it might be too cramped with him here. Our unit only has enough necessities and room for two people; Moira and I decided on comfort over space when we found this place.
We thought it would feel a little more at home; the proximity allows us to grow and strengthen our friendship.
“Oh!” Moira jumps in, popping up in front of me as the kitchen divider separates Derek and me in the kitchen with Moira and Peter in the living room side.
“I have been talking about it with Peter too. I want him to move in with us!” She beams; her olive skin glows in the sunlight.
I don’t mind Peter. He’s a clean individual that picks up after himself so I never have to worry about cleaning the apartment after he leaves. It’s that Derek would never let me sleep in the vicinity of another man, and he’s going to set up camp in my room if Peter moves in.
Theoretically, if we move some things and adjust the furniture, we could work.
“He can take Rebecca’s place in this lease, and I will take her with me,” Derek said.
Moira snorts, snatching my glass of orange juice from my hand. “I could hardly get the building manager to put in another set of locks. What makes you think he’s going to let Peter take Becca’s place in the tenancy.”
She has a point, and I want to tell Derek that moving into his home hasn’t crossed my mind yet, and I don’t want to intrude on his property and invade his life with my presence.
This man has probably never had a roommate before, and it takes a lot of greasing and aerobics to finesse into a workable relationship before we could even attempt to make an effort to make the roommate situation succeed.
I shouldn’t say roommate; it’s more of a housemate. His home is huge, and I doubt he would have noticed my existence if he lets me live there. I have this funny thought that he gets his home professionally cleaned.
“Moira,” I laugh nervously, “Remember I told you that Derek is a debt collector?”
She corrects, “A loan shark, and yes, I’m aware of what he can do. I just don’t want to be in the back of a police car and vomit.”
I cringe, losing my appetite at the unappealing visual. I hand the piece of golden toast to Derek; he nonchalantly eats it with a straight face.
Last night, he told me everything about how a mistaken identity led him to me. Some woman named Rebecca Shaw owed him money, and I was the only one with that name and the same color hair in the fifty-mile radius. It could be that his memory from two years ago didn’t serve him right; people can change in as little as a week if they’re determined.
Derek said that my debt had been wiped the moment he saw me, and there was no shame when he admitted that he was blind-sighted by love at first sight. He just wanted to use the excuse to have some of my time and get to know me. I wasn’t mad at all because he was truthful and I was glad that he told me.
It turns out that my student loans were not for him, and we had a good laugh out of this misunderstanding as it did lead us up to this point. I wouldn’t turn back time to fix this mistake because I want to keep this memory. It’s every little thing that he did to spend time with me that had me falling in love with him.
It’s an odd feeling to be in love so quickly, but I just know it. There is no sudden realization or in-depth thoughts. It’s just there and it had been there for a while.
I was misled under the pretense that he wanted me to work off my debt, but we were both idiots who had two different trains of thoughts. There are thousands of scenarios, but we went with this one and it made our relationship stronger.
“Just don’t kill our building manager,” Moira sighs, shaking her head while fondling Peter’s bicep, “I hate to get evicted and have my credit score go to shit.”
I raise an eyebrow, “I thought you were going to try your new dress on him.”
“It did make my legs look great,” she shamelessly perches her thigh up and let Peter feel her shaved legs.
“I can already hear the jazz playing in my head,” I laugh while trying to surpass the need to replay the funny sound effects.
Peter grips Moira’s shoulders and kneads them while she hums happily. The ea
siness between them is amazing, and I love watching them act like teenagers. It’s adorable, Moira has always been a wildcat that no one can tame, but Peter can snap a finger and she would be rolling over to her back for belly rubs.
Derek jerks me around, slanting his mouth over mine, and I make a noise of confusion as to what could have brought this on. I toss that out of my head and link my hands over his side to feel his back muscles ripple. His power forms into waves of heat that warm my body while I feel the inkling of eyes on the back of my head.
“Do not leave this place, I’ll come back.” Derek pecks my lips and whispers against them.
Reluctance forces my arms to tighten. This unwarranted fear of him not coming back reverts back to the level of manic anxiety. I remember the last time I felt this way was when I graduated, and it was a dark time for me.
“Don’t leave,” I plead with him quietly.
“Start packing, you’ll come live with me,” he said, smirking lightly and I purse my lips.
He isn’t lying, I know that much by the greyness of his eyes. They are adamant and strong, open for me to search for any lies that hide in them while he holds me so preciously and cherishes me with another kiss to my lips before unhooking my arms from him.
I whine needlessly, pouting while I hear Moira’s snort through bubbles. I hope she doesn’t choke on her drink. I’m not familiar with emergency breathing practices to help her intake air.
I watch Derek walk out the door to go downstairs to the building manager’s office. I would follow him to calm my raging heart, but then I don’t want to see the loan shark side of him that he clearly told me that he prefers to keep away from our relationship.
He’s a cool and calculated man, ruthlessly tearing lives apart and taking back what is it. However, to me, he is my soulmate, and I love everything about him. Every side is different, and I will love all of them with the same amount of affection.
