I grasped her hips in my hands and used it as leverage. Her mouth fell open and the moan that escaped her did crazy things to me. Sex had always just been sex to me. Nothing more. But with Sutton I found myself in tune to her likes and dislikes, noting the way her body responded to me. I wanted to please her and I’d never cared about a woman’s pleasure before—only taking what I wanted and needed.
“Do you like it when I fuck you? Do you like having my cock inside you? Tell me you like it, Sutton. Tell me,” I grasped her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me.
“I fucking love it,” she breathed, raking her nails over my back.
Our mouths sealed together and she moaned against me. Her neck arched and my hand found the curve where her neck met her shoulder.
She grasped my biceps, her tongue twining with mine.
We were both mad with pleasure.
Her body pulsed around me and a groan tore from my throat. No one had ever felt as good as Sutton. It was like she was made for me. With most women, once was enough. Sometimes I did go back for seconds. But with Sutton, I knew I’d never get tired of feeling and hearing her.
Her nails scratched against my back once more and I knew they’d leave a mark. I wasn’t blind to what she was doing. She wanted to make me hers, so that others, like Monique, would stay away. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I wasn’t asking her to stop. I didn’t want to be her boyfriend any more than I believed that she wanted to be my girlfriend, but I didn’t want to see her with anyone else either. That probably made me a sick bastard, but I didn’t care. For the last five years I’d taken what I wanted and not cared what kind of damage it caused, and now, I wanted Sutton more than anything else. I was more addicted to her than anything else. Dangerous? Yes. Unavoidable? Yes. Potentially explosive? Definitely.
Together we were a fire that couldn’t be contained, but once we were extinguished we’d never be the same.
She pushed me onto my back, straddling me. Sutton liked to be in control even more than I did.
“Stop thinking,” she lowered, her hair creating a shield around us, “just feel.”
Feeling with Sutton was hard. I was scared of what she stirred in me.
She rolled her hips against me and finally all thoughts flew out the window.
She raked her hands down my chest, and then placed small kisses to soothe the sting.
I took her breasts in my hands, kneading the fullness. God, she was perfect.
“Mhmm, that feels good,” she moaned when my thumbs brushed against her nipples, so I did it again. Her back arched as her breaths quickened. Her core clenched around me and I knew she was coming. “Oh, fuck! Caelan!”
I loved it a bit too much when she said my name, but when she screamed it like it was a fucking prayer? I completely and utterly lost it.
“Caelan,” she panted my name, coming down from her high. “Oh my God.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Sutton,” I growled her name.
She collapsed on top of me, our damp bodies clinging together. I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face into the curve of her neck.
I wanted to melt inside her and get lost, so that none of my past ever existed. I wanted to be able to start fresh and release the strings tying me down, but I wasn’t there yet. Maybe one day, but it was still too hard and I needed to escape.
CHAPTER 15
Caelan
I lay on the ground, between the graves of my family. Lately, I’d been coming here more often. I found solace in the eerie quiet of the cemetery. It soothed my wounded soul being close to them. I couldn’t bring them back, but I did have the power to never forget them, and that was something.
I reached out and plucked a withered piece of grass from the ground. Summer had left and fall was upon us.
I twirled the blade of grass between my fingers, staring up at the blue sky and the clouds floating by.
I wondered if that was what heaven looked like—bright, happy, warm, and full of promise.
I knew I’d fucked up royally and there would be no peaceful afterlife for myself. I’d never be reunited with my family. I was destined to burn for my sins. A part of me was angry about that, but I knew I deserved it for how I’d acted, how I still acted, after their passing. I’d destroyed my family’s name instead of honoring it. What kind of person does that? Me. That’s who.
Looking back, I knew I should’ve accepted help after they died. A counselor would’ve been able to help me move past their deaths and cleanse myself of those last memories of them. No one should ever have to see the people they love slashed open like a fucking sacrifice.
I had wished so many times that I died with them, so that I didn’t have to deal with this pain.
I’d forgotten a long time ago what it felt like to be happy.
The emotion held no meaning for me anymore.
To be happy, you have to care, and I cared about nothing.
“That’s not true.” Cayla’s voice floated through the air.
“What do you mean?”
“You care for Sutton,” she whispered, like she was afraid I’d get mad. Which I did.
“No, I don’t. You don’t know anything!”
“I know more than you think, Cael.” She said, and it was almost like she was alive again, looking at me like I was the silliest thing she’d ever seen. I missed her so much. I missed them all. I would give anything to have one more day with them. To tell them I loved them and I missed them and that they were the best family any one could ever ask for, and that I was sorry for not realizing it sooner.
“You have to let people in if you want to get better. Open up, Cael. Share your pain. It’s okay. Let her see it all.” I swore it felt like someone tapped my chest, right where my heart lay.
I placed my hand on the spot.
“And what if it scares her? What if my darkness swallows us whole?” I asked.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be, but you accomplished something by trying,” she mused. “If you do nothing but fear rejection, you’ll never do or try anything.”
“I hate that you’re smarter than me,” I smiled, crossing my arms behind my head.
“I’m dead, I see and know everything, so of course I’m smarter.”
“How do I know I’m not just hallucinating your voice?” I questioned.
“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. I guess it’s up to you to decide what you believe.”
“I miss you.” My voice was barely above a whisper, painfully choked out. “I miss all of you so much. It hurts so much having you all gone.”
“I know, Cael.” Her voice sounded sad. “We miss you too.”
I closed my eyes swallowing thickly. Listening to her voice, I tried to envision what a twenty-one year old Cayla would have looked like. But I couldn’t. I could barely remember what any of them looked like. Time had slowly erased my memories of them. The most vivid recollection I had of them was when I found them…like that. While I’d forgotten everything else, that was one thing that refused to leave. I wished it would. I’d often woken up from a nightmare feeling like their blood was caked into my skin, seeping into my pores. No matter how raw I scrubbed my skin, it was there. Some things never left.
I took a deep breath, trying to remember something from before, but all that existed was the after.
As I slowly drifted to sleep there in the cemetery, the memory of the day I had to bury them resurfaced.
Was it possible to have a heart attack at eighteen?
I was no doctor, but it sure felt like I was having one. The pain in my chest was unbearable, like a heavy weight sat atop it.
My breaths were loud and people kept staring.
I knew I looked like a zombie. My hair was limp, my skin was gray, and even in a weeks time I’d lost so much weight that if a heavy gust of wind surfaced it would blow me over.
I was a mess.
Staring at their coffins, all three lined up in a row, I felt the overwhelming need to join them.
I was alone.
I literally had no one.
I was drowning in my grief, trying to stay afloat, but I wanted nothing more than to sink beneath the surface into oblivion.
“Hey,” Kyle said, walking up and standing beside me. “You okay?”
Why did everyone keep asking me that? How could I possibly be okay?
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
They kept saying that too. ‘I’m sorry’. What did they have to be sorry for? They hadn’t killed my parents and my sister. They hadn’t taken a knife to them and ripped them to shreds, gutting them like fucking animals. If I ever found out who had done this, they’d suffer ten-fold of what my family did. I’d make them pay.
“Just stop,” I mumbled, staring ahead. The clouds above were dark gray, the threat of a storm looming. How appropriate.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
I turned to my best friend. My grief and anger evident in my posture and facial features. “Everyone else is asking the same fucking questions. I’m sick of it. I don’t need you doing it too.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t.”
I turned back to face the caskets.
People were crying and chatter abounded.
“Such a tragedy,” someone said.
“Can’t believe something like this would happen here.” Another piped in.
“I heard the son was a suspect.”
I felt eyes boring into the back of my skull.
I bet most of the people here didn’t even know my family. They were just curious about the murders that had taken place in their own backyard.
“Shut up!” Kyle yelled. “What the hell is your problem?” He turned to face the group of gossiping women behind us. I didn’t turn to see their reaction. I didn’t care. I knew people thought I’d killed them. After all, there was more evidence pointing at me having done it than a stranger. The police hadn’t been able to find anything left behind by the killer—oddly enough, that was what kept them from pining the murder on me. Without a murder weapon, they could only speculate as to what happened. I knew some of the officers, as well as the community, believed something had made me snap and I’d done it. Innocent before proven guilty was a bunch of bullshit. Everyone always thought you were guilty before evidence showed otherwise.
I grabbed Kyle’s arm. “Leave it.”
“No way,” he shrugged off my hold. “Apologize,” he glared at the woman.
“Sorry,” I heard her squeak from behind me.
I didn’t acknowledge her. People would believe what they wanted to believe, and I wasn’t going to waste my breath trying to prove them other wise.
Slowly, people started to leave as the service ended.
I didn’t speak at the funeral. I couldn’t. Talking about them in the past tense didn’t feel right.
The cemetery emptied and only Kyle was left by my side. He was a better friend than I deserved.
“You should go,” I said.
“Cael—”
“Go!” I yelled. “I need to be alone right now.”
Kyle heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
His steps faded away and I was finally alone.
My knees gave out and I sunk to the ground. Tears drenched my cheeks. I had never cried so hard in my life. With each painful sob, my gut clenched. I clutched at the grass, dirt getting under my nails.
As I watched the caskets being lowered in the ground a scream tore out of my throat.
This was goodbye.
They were really and truly gone.
This wasn’t a nightmare I was about to wake up from.
Real life fucking sucked.
“You should go.” One of the workers told me as others spread tarps over the open graves. “It’s going to storm soon. You shouldn’t have watched this anyway.”
I didn’t say anything to him, but I refused to move.
Once the graves were covered the men disappeared.
I leaned my forehead against the ground, my sobs shaking my whole body. It was the first time I’d cried since they’d died. I’d been unable to until now—and now my emotions spilt forth like flood.
I felt raindrops hit my neck. They picked up speed and soon I was soaked and my clothes became muddy where I knelt against the ground. It was like the sky was crying with me, mourning the loss of three good people who died before they were meant to.
The trees in the cemetery shook from the force of the wind and my body quickly felt like it was turning into a popsicle. I was so cold, shivering uncontrollably, but I couldn’t leave. Not yet.
The moment I left, it would be like I had finally acknowledged that they were really dead.
Like a small child I believed if I wished hard enough that this wasn’t real someone would have to listen to my pleas and grant my desperate request.
Lightning lit up the sky and thunder cracked—the sound overpowering my choking sobs.
I tore at my hair.
I wanted to die.
I didn’t want to have to live without them.
It wasn’t fair.
“Caelan?”
“Go away!” I screamed at Kyle. I should’ve known he had waited for me.
“I’m not leaving. Not until you do.”
He sat down beside me and I turned my head to see him drawing his knees up and draping his arms across. His wet hair stuck to his forehead as he looked ahead. “I know you believe you’re alone, but you’re not.”
He was wrong.
I was alone.
No one could understand what I was going through. They couldn’t grasp the pain that ripped through my body with every second that I was alive and they were dead. Sure, people tried to get it, but they couldn’t.
I didn’t say any of that to him, though.
As days turned to weeks he, like everyone else, soon realized that I would never be the same.
I awoke with a start. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I buried my head in my hands, trying to forget what I’d remembered. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help wishing that there was some magical device that would allow you to erase the things you didn’t want to remember, and keep the things you did.
I stood slowly, looking around the empty cemetery.
No one else was here.
There hardly ever was anyone here.
The living feared the dead because they represented an all too present fate for themselves. Therefore, they avoided cemeteries, like the place alone was going to cause them to drop dead.
As if I wasn’t already weird enough, I found peace here.
The dead weren’t nearly as judgmental as the living.
“Ha! I’m totally judging you!”
“Cayla,” I groaned.
“Seriously, get your shit together.”
I frowned.
“I know you don’t think you can,” she continued, “but you’re wrong.”
“I’ve fucked up everything, Cayla,” I said, staring at her grave. “How can I possibly fix this mess now?”
“By not talking about it and doing it,” she spoke. “Take that first step, Cael. Do it. Not for me. Not for Sutton. But for you.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
I was already doing better than I had in a while. I was drinking less and I hadn’t used any drugs in a few days—when in the past I couldn’t go a few hours without a hit.
“That’s all I ask.”
CHAPTER 16
Sutton
The summer heat melted away, replaced by cool winds and the warm colors of fall. Looking out my window, I watched the red, yellow, and orange leaves swirl from the trees down to the street below where they were then scattered by passersby and traffic.
Autumn had always been my favorite season. The crisp cool air always made me want to bundle up in my most comfy clothes. The colors of this time of year were beautiful—so warm and inviting, a direct contrast to the cool greens and crisp blues of summer. Even the smells of fall were
better, like pumpkin spice coffee.
The curtains began to shake, momentarily directing my attention away from the window.
“Brutus!” I yelled, grabbing up the cat and cradling him in my arms. “You can’t climb the curtains! You’ll hurt yourself!”
The cat just peered up at me like I was crazy, which was probably true since I was talking to an animal.
With Brutus still cradled in my arms, I continued to watch the leaves swirl around. Something about them practically hypnotized me.
Soon though, it wasn’t the leaves that held my attention.
Light blond hair caught my eye and my eyes followed the man’s quick gait. His head was bowed as the wind tousled his hair. He bundled his coat tighter around himself and blew on his hands for warmth.
He’d been gone for a while. He disappeared a lot. I always wondered where he went, but despite my nosiness I didn’t try to follow him. I figured he was off buying drugs or something and that was information I didn’t want to be privy to. My gut told me that he went somewhere else, though. I knew I should ask—bridge that invisible gap that divided us and kept us from opening up about the ghosts that haunted us.
I watched him until he disappeared inside the building and then I finally pulled myself away from the window.
I set Brutus on the ground and he jumped on the couch, peering at me innocently like he hadn’t just been about to use up one of his nine lives with his acrobatics.
I opened the door and leaned against the jamb.
Caelan’s head snapped up, his eyes connecting with mine, as he topped the steps.
He smiled playfully and I was struck by just how amazing his smile was—even when I knew it was slightly forced.
“Spying on me?” A single brow rose on his forehead as he stopped a few feet away from me.
I shook my head. “You wish.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you’re what…getting some fresh air? I think you have to go outside for that.”
A small laugh escaped me. “No, I was looking out my window at the leaves.”
“At the leaves,” he repeated. “That seems rather boring.”
“Says the man who stares at a blank canvas for hours on end until inspiration strikes.” The more time we spent together, the more I learned about Caelan’s quirks. One of which being, he couldn’t start painting until it ‘felt right’. Sometimes he’d stare at a canvas for only a moment before his hand would start moving, making the necessary dips, curves, and swirls needed to bring about the vision in his head. Other times hours would pass and I’d eventually leave, bored out of my mind. I could never knock his talent though. He was incredible—the kind of artist you read about in fancy magazines and saw their art exhibited in galleries. I knew if Cael ever got his act cleaned up, he could do great things.
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