“I think he’s here for you.” Christian’s eyes are pleading. He wants me to give Pierce another chance. I think he’ll feel better to know there’s someone to take care of me while my dad is on the road. But being with someone just so you can depend on him is a horrible idea. That’s how most women on my street ended up the way they did.
“Do I know you?” Dad approaches Pierce, who is wearing a sharp and expensive black suit.
“I’m a friend of your daughter’s,” he says softly, but also dryly. Not her teacher. Her friend. It doesn’t escape me, and I hate that my heart flutters in my chest when I hear him owning up to what we are.
More than a student and a teacher.
More than words.
“You look a little old to be her friend.”
“She’s a little older than her years, sir.”
I munch on my lower lip as I walk over to them. Pierce perks up, straightens his spine. The sun is unforgiveable. All of us are sweaty in our black attire, despite it being November. Welcome to Nevada.
“Remington,” Pierce says.
“Pierce.” I can’t help but call him. Not Mr. James. Today, he is Pierce.
“Can I offer you my condolences?” he asks. I nod.
“Alone?” He stretches. I think I hear his heart skipping a beat as I follow him to an oak tree—a huge thing the size of my house, probably—in the corner of the cemetery. We both stand in the shadow. I fiddle with the hem of my dress. Now that we’re alone, I drop my close-lipped smile and my soft eyes and become sharper around the edges. People are close enough to see what we are doing but far enough not to hear what we are saying. Pierce shoves his fists into his pockets and breathes in.
“I’m so sorry, Remi.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“You know it has nothing to do with me, right? I would never wish something like this upon my greatest enemy. And Ryan wasn’t my enemy. Not anymore. He was…” I think Pierce is about to say “yours,” but he stops himself if he does. Good. I don’t want to hear it, and I definitely don’t want to think about it. It’s not even true.
“Before he died,” I say, leaning my shoulder against the cool trunk of the dark brown tree, “he started acting different. Good different. Like the old Ryan. He was waiting on a call for a bed at an inpatient rehab center. He was trying. And then he was killed for it.” My dad was told that they suspect someone was upset that he wasn’t selling anymore. That, or he owed someone money.
Pierce nods. “We had a talk. I was hoping to get through to him. He really loved you, Remi.”
“You did?” My heart shatters, but flickers back to life. I’m not sure why. Maybe because hearing something I didn’t know about Ryan makes him feel more alive and the hole in my chest a little smaller. I’ll shove everything into that hole inside my heart. Even Pierce’s words, the most dangerous weapon of all.
“Yeah.” He nods faintly. “I told him if he really loves you, he should take a step back. And he did,” Pierce says. I swallow down my tears and shake my head.
“I can’t live without him,” I admit. It’s true. He is—was—such a huge part of my life, I didn’t even bother to check if he had a negative or positive effect on me.
“You can, and you will. I’ll help you through it. Through everything.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“I’m not asking.” His voice is dry. “I quit my job.”
My eyes fly up, and I blink. “You did what?”
“Quit.”
“Why?”
“Because I decided to pursue you. And pursuing you while holding onto a job where I had so much more power over you wasn’t fair. Or moral. Or right. I needed to refocus. You gave me what I needed. Now I’m going to give you what you need.”
“And what is that?” I ask, leaning against him without meaning to.
“Peace.”
I sit on Remi’s bed, wondering if I did the right thing or the spectacularly wrong one.
That’s what I loved the most about debate. There is no right or wrong in this world. No black and white. Remington and I live in the gray area. Logic is pointless. Gut feeling is dangerous. The only way to know whether you did the right or wrong thing is to ride it out and see it to the end.
Remi is in the living room talking to her dad. I make calls in the meantime. I call my mother to tell her I’ll be coming to Dad’s birthday with Remington—even though I haven’t run it by her yet. I call Shelly, but she doesn’t answer. Then I text Drew, my friend who’s been begging for me to join his law firm since we first met when I moved here.
Me: I’m ready to go back to the dark side.
Drew: You mean practicing law?
Me: It’s better than self-employment. Slightly.
Drew: You’ll get a corner office if you decide to work with me.
Me: That’s bad negotiation on your part. You don’t even know what I’m offering.
Drew: You’re offering yourself. Anyone would be a fool not to take that.
Tell that to my girlfriend.
Just then, Remi enters her room. She sees me smiling and pauses. She is still suspicious of me. I don’t blame her.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yes.” I sit up straight on her bed, somehow still feeling like a perv for being here, even though her father is in the house too and we’re completely clothed and not anywhere near each other. “What’s happening?”
“Shelly is outside waiting for us.”
“Us? Plural?” I get up. They don’t know each other, but I’ve mentioned Shelly to Remi in passing a few times.
“She wants to tell us something. We’re going to the diner down the road. Are you ready?”
I already have my jacket on. This should be interesting.
I order coffee, but don’t drink it.
It’s funny how this diner is just down the road from my house, but I’ve been here maybe three times in my entire life. I sit across from Shelly. Pierce sits by my side. We haven’t spoken at all since we patched things up. Come to think about it, we haven’t even officially patched things up.
Nothing makes sense in my world anymore, or at least that’s how I feel. Not the part where Ryan died, and not the part where Pierce and I are okay somehow as a result. I now believe that he never meant to hurt me. I understand the ‘whys’ of it, and I know that he’s who I’m supposed to be with. I know it with every bone in my body, and now I need to trust it. To trust him. But, something is still holding me back.
Shelly looks rough. She needs five hundred meals inside her, a good shower, a haircut, and a lot of TLC to look human again. Her whole appearance screams drug addict. The shit that’s going on under her fingernails is probably toxic at this point. But all I see is Ryan, and I want to hug her. To help her.
“You don’t know me.” Shelly fiddles with a packet of sugar, but doesn’t touch her coffee either. She has her bag next to her. Some designer knockoff. I blink, staring at her blankly. “But I know you. Well, kind of know you, really.”
“Elaborate,” Pierce orders dryly. Shelly shifts in her seat. We’re sitting in a red classic booth of a diner. A waitress in a yellow uniform and white apron passes us by with a coffeepot and winks at Pierce as she pops her gum. I’m just about ready to explode.
“Well.” Shelly drops the sugar and falls backwards to the headrest. “The thing is…okay, well, let’s start from the beginning. Remington, Pierce’s sister Gwen used to be my roommate. She also used to be Ryan’s girlfriend.”
I don’t say a word. Just look at her. Ryan had a lot of girlfriends, so I’m not sure where this is going. She continues.
“Ryan used to talk about you. All the time. He was so proud of you. Said you and he were going to get out of this shithole together. He never used to use at first. Just sold. But once he started using, he became fixated on you. Obsessed, even. He turned violent. Manipulative. Deceitful. Before Gwen died…” Shelly chokes, and Pierce’s eyebrows dive down, so I gather he has no idea where she’s goin
g with this either. Shelly starts crying, grabbing a few napkins, and blowing her nose loudly.
“Gwen knew she was going to die. She planned it. She was so tired of fighting.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “She decided to use whatever money her parents gave her for food and rent and…life, I guess, to pay for your tuition. She hadn’t ever spoken to you, but she saw you around when she partied at your house with Ryan. Saw how he treated you. She said you reminded her of a tougher version of herself, and if she couldn’t save her own life, then she might as well try to help yours. When she told me all of this, I didn’t know she was planning to end her life, I swear,” she cries, looking up at Pierce, her eyes begging for forgiveness.
I see it now. The guilt. The regret. She wears it like a second skin. And I know the feeling all too well. My hands fall to the table with a slap, and my mouth hangs open, tears springing to my eyes.
“Impossible,” Pierce says, his voice quivering as he takes my hands in both of his.
“It’s true.” Shelly sniffs, producing something from her bag. A batch of wrinkled papers. Pierce takes them from her hand and frowns. I see my name there. I see Gwen’s name. I see all the details. She went to my dad and offered him money. He was skeptical, but she insisted that she wanted to stay anonymous, so he made up the bullshit story about saving up. It all makes sense, yet none of it does.
He’s lost his sister.
I’ve lost my brother.
And they were both connected with a tragic destiny.
Pierce lifts his eyes from the pages. “Gwen wanted me to meet Remi. She wanted me to take care of her.”
Shelly smiles a sad smile through her tears. “I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.” She gestures at our hands clasped together on top of the table.
Pierce shrugs and kisses my temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll take whatever she’ll give me.”
When we get back to my house, Pierce throws random shit into a suitcase for me, while I sit on my bed in a daze. He looks so out of place in my tiny room with its peeling paint and ancient, hand-me-down furniture.
Pierce informs my dad that he’ll be taking me back to his place, and not surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight. I know we’ll have to have a talk eventually, but now is not the time. Janice has been over non-stop, so I don’t feel guilty leaving him. It’s not like he’s ever beaten himself up over leaving me.
The ride to Pierce’s house is quiet, and the mood somber, but hopeful. I think we are both trying to work through what all of this means for us. I still can’t believe Pierce quit his job. But, he said it was never what he truly wanted to do, anyway. He said everything has a season, and that season of his life is over. His hand is firmly wedged between my thighs, not probing or wandering, and he gives my leg a firm squeeze. I look over at him—all inky black hair, eyebrows furrowed in thought, hardened jaw, perfect fucking lips—and I wonder what I did to deserve someone like him. Someone who fights for me. Makes sacrifices for me. Believes in me. I don’t know much about love, but if that’s not it, I don’t know what is.
“I love you,” I confess. And I do. So much that it physically hurts.
His head swivels toward me, an eyebrow lifts in amusement.
“You just now figuring that out, sweetheart?” He laughs, the first real laugh I’ve heard from him in weeks, and I flip him off. “Because I’ve been loving you, Miss Stringer.”
Now, we’re pulling up to Pierce’s driveway. Instead of getting out of the car, he slides his seat back and pats his lap. Wordlessly, I climb over the console, still in the dress I wore to Ryan’s funeral. His funeral. It sounds so wrong. It is so wrong.
The second Pierce’s strong arms wrap around me, I bury my face in his neck, basking in the comfort he’s offering. His hands work up and down my back, soothing me.
“You get to be sad, Remi,” he says gruffly, his lips touching my ear. “You get to be sad. You get to cry. You don’t have to go back to school tomorrow, or even the next day, but after that…” he trails off, grabbing my chin in a silent command to look into his eyes. My glassy eyes lock onto his crystal blue ones.
“After that, you return to school.”
I nod.
“You meet with Holly Tate again to discuss college options before the fall cut-off.”
Another nod.
“You move in with me until further notice.”
I nod—wait, what? Pierce shoots me a look, daring me to argue, and I roll my eyes and nod once more.
“And you’re coming to dinner to meet my parents in a couple of weeks for my dad’s birthday,” he says as casually as he would when discussing the weather.
“Pierce—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“In Orange County.”
“Jesus,” I breathe, dropping my head to his shoulder.
“But right now,” he rasps, lifting his hips and unbuckling his belt. “All you need to do is let me love you. Can you do that for me, Remi girl?”
“God, yes,” I whisper.
“Good girl.”
He unzips the back of my dress letting it pool at my waist, exposing my naked chest, before lifting my dress above my ass and sliding my panties aside. He leans forward, his hot mouth taking my right nipple into his mouth as I lift up and position his cock at my entrance.
I slide down onto his rock-hard warmth slowly, so slowly, welcoming every inch he feeds me. He looks into my eyes, searching, and it feels more intimate than him being inside me. Once he’s fully seated inside me, I start to move on top of him. Pierce grabs the nape of my neck with one hand and grips my ass with the other, guiding my movements. What started as a slow and sensual dance quickly morphs into one of desperation, needing to be so enmeshed in each other so deeply that we’re one entity.
I grind against him, hard but unhurried as our sweat mixes between us. Pierce’s mouth comes down on mine, and his tongue sweeps past my lips. Oh, how I’ve missed the taste of him. Our tongues and bodies move in perfect harmony. We were made for this.
Suddenly, Pierce reaches down and pushes a lever causing his seat to recline and he lies back, crossing his hands behind his head. I grab the handle above his window and lift my hips before dropping back down. I do this until I’m practically bouncing on his lap, and I feel my orgasm building.
“Baby,” he groans, and I know he’s close, too. His hands move to my hips and smooth up the curves of my waist before palming my breasts. He squeezes them and then pinches my nipples, and I feel it straight down to my clit.
The pleasure coursing through me is too much to bear, and I collapse on top of him. One arm wraps around my back and the other one cradles my head to his chest as he takes over, thrusting inside me deeper than anyone’s ever been, literally and figuratively.
This isn’t just fucking.
This is passion.
This is love.
This is healing.
“I’m close,” I moan, holding my ass in place while he pumps into me punishingly.
“Come with me, pretty girl.”
And I do. I come in never-ending waves until my legs are shaking. I’m boneless. Jelly. And still convulsing on top of him.
“Fuck, Remi,” Pierces curses, shoving into me a few more times before lifting me off his cock so I straddle just his thighs instead. His hand comes around to fist his dick, and then I realize it’s because we didn’t use protection.
Pierce grips my hips and pulls me forward, his cock nestled between my lips. He holds me in place while he fucks me like that, his hard length slipping in my arousal but never penetrating, until his eyes close and his body jerks. Thick ropes of cum shoot onto his stomach that flexes with his climax. The sight, along with the friction against my clit, has me coming again.
“God, I love you,” Pierce says, still catching his breath as he smooths my damp hair off my forehead.
“I love you, too, Mr. James.”
Graduation Day
It’s been seven months sinc
e I’ve last stepped foot into West Point, and even though I can’t say I’ve missed it, I wouldn’t miss this day for the world, either.
I sit in one of hundreds of chairs in the lush courtyard, tugging at my collar, ignoring the stifling heat and curious stares from parents, teachers, and underclassman. If they think I give two shits about what they think about me, they have another thing coming. Now that Remington is graduating, I don’t have to worry about what they think of her either anymore. Shortly after Remington returned to West Point, Headmaster Charles called her in to question her about our relationship. Remington denied it, and since there wasn’t any proof and I had already resigned, he dropped it.
I’m sitting next to Remington’s father, Dan—which is essentially admitting to the world that I’m in a relationship with my former student—and ignore the way he nibbles on the dead skin around his thumb nervously. To say I’m not particularly fond of him would be the understatement of the century. He has treated Remi in a way I wouldn’t even treat our future pet, let alone child. But for her, I play nice.
For her, I play games I never thought I would.
For her, I’m a changed man.
Dan and Remington are slowly building their relationship again. He apologized for being absent most of her life, and for not believing her when she warned him about Ryan. Remi accepted, but she’s kept her distance. We’ve been living together, sharing a bed, and a kitchen, and things that are only ours—secrets no one else has access to—and even though sinners like me can only wish for heaven, my bastard ass has somehow managed to sneak through the door and step into this thing called paradise.
“The Land of Hope and Glory” assaults my ears from the speakers near the stage, and students are being called up to receive their diplomas. I scan the horde of pimply teenagers in royal blue gowns, looking for Remington in the sea of silk. I find her sitting next to Christian and Benton, even though their last names should have them completely spread out. She is squeezing Christian’s palm in hers and whispering something into his ear, her leg rocking in place. Adorably nervous. Something flutters in my chest.
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