by CC Monroe
“If he is this bad now, what will my leaving do to him? I am all he has left.” Eric's parents died of an overdose when he was fifteen, but before that, he was nothing but a mistake and trouble in their eyes. He lived in a home with roaches and rats, a toxic place where his small blanket turned black on the hard floor he slept on next to used needles. How can I not try to fix him?
“And you're becoming a product of his wasteland. What is this shit gonna do to you, Kate?”
I’ve never thought of it like that. As I drop my head to his chest, he lifts me up and places my bare feet atop his brown boots.
“I don’t know, Nick.” I trail off, and he starts to rock us, his hand placed firmly on my lower back and his other tangling in my hair. I cry and whimper in his embrace, letting him soothe me, but I don’t think I can calm down.
Nick is making me feel even more things outside of our friendship, and the forbiddance of his age combined with his relation to the man I’m with are dangerously too close. I want to stay with Eric but no longer can. And I want to tell Nick that in my dreams, he’s been the man above me, the man beside me on the sidewalk, and in my mind, he’s the man inside my body when Eric takes me, over the last year especially. It’s sick and wrong, unfair to Eric, but he doesn’t know, and that secret is one I wickedly love to keep.
Chapter Two
Nick
Kate Beckett will be my demise. She’s the bulldozer breaking through my exterior. For four years, I have lusted over her, watched her on the sidelines as she fell in love with Eric. And now, when he stands to lose her, I weasel myself in, knowing I shouldn't want to, but I fucking want her.
After my divorce from Susie all those years ago, I swore I would get clean and commit my life to my passion for music and never settle down again. I’ve pledged my life to sobriety, and I haven't slipped up once. It’s a never-ending battle, but each year, I come out the winner. But Kate is not making the part of me that swore to never love again something I can keep as diligently as my sobriety.
That long blonde hair, that light smatter of freckles across her cheeks, and that small, innocent gap between her two front teeth captivate me. The beauty, who is way too young for me, is like my Achilles’ heel, my one weakness.
I came here to wait for Eric and lay into him. But instead, my hands found Kate, and my body is molded to hers as I sway her back and forth in her living room, watching as she breaks down once again over Eric.
I know Kate lost everything—except Sadie, Ben, and me—to be with Eric, and I would be lying if I said I don’t feel for her or understand why everyone left, but fuck I do. She shouldn't stay; she has no reason to, but her heart is speaking louder than her logic, and it’s sickening to watch.
It’s hard to watch the girl you love feel unloved by someone who should be you.
“Kitten, I know you're hurting. Please tell me how I can make it better,” I whisper into her ear, her sobs slowly dying. As she peeks up, her makeup runs, and I quickly wipe it away, halting our movement.
“Help me.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Just like that, we fall silent, caught in the in-between. I want to help her, want to get her out of Eric’s life and into mine, but she has to want that, and even more, she needs to be ready for that. I kiss her forehead and rub her shoulders for the rest of our silence, until the loud sound of the door crashing open separates us.
“Kate! Oh hey, baby. Oh fuck. Hey, Nick. Listen, man. I’m sorry I didn't make it today—” Eric enters, eyes sunken and dark, the underside of his nose red from scratching away the itch brought on by the cocaine. He looks busted, like he hasn't showered in days.
“Save it.” I come to stand in front of a silent Kate, her tears slowly falling now, and I know she sees what’s about to come. This has become a weekly routine.
“You missed another session, and it fucking put us behind another week. We aren't going to get the fucking album done in time. You’re done. We’re not waiting for you anymore,” I threaten, my voice stern and steady. I start to walk toward him, and he faces me with an incredulous look.
“You can’t kick me out of the band, man. I’m the fucking star. I make us money.” He chuckles deep in his throat, blinking rapidly and itching his nose repeatedly. Fuck, he’s gone. I don't want Kate here tonight. I don't want her alone with this man.
“To hell you are. Ben's our star. Quit thinking the world of yourself. You're just a washed-up fucking junkie,” I spit.
“Nick.” Kate grabs my elbow gently and pulls me back a little.
I watch Eric’s manic eyes travel to where her skin touches mine, and I see it, see the high boiling into a rage.
“What the fuck is this, Kate?” he yells, stepping closer. I guard her by reaching back and pushing her by her hip to stand directly behind me.
“Don’t fucking go there, Eric. You're lucky she's still here.” I shove him back, and he stumbles a few feet. This time when he comes at me, he makes physical contact and pushes me back, causing my bodyweight to falter enough that Kate falls backward.
“Ow!” she screams.
“Fuck, Eric!” I push him back and assess her, seeing her holding the point of her elbow, her face wrenched with pain.
“Kitten, you okay?” I ask, kneeling on my haunches.
“Kitten? God, I knew you wanted to fuck her! You’ve always wanted my pretty little mess. You want him to fuck you, baby? I don't mind sharing you.”
She looks down at her lap and cries, shaking her head but saying nothing. She doesn't even attempt to defend herself. That is not who Kate is; she's not afraid of anyone.
“Shut the fuck up, Eric, or I’ll lay your ass out!” I yell over my shoulder, picking Kate up as I come to stand at my full height again.
“Don't worry about it, man. Take her for a spin. She’s a wild thing. She’ll do anything just for some attention.”
“Eric!” she cries, shaking her head and looking at him as if she doesn't even know who he is anymore. Shit, I know I sure as hell don’t.
“That’s it. You are out of your fucking mind. We’re leaving. Kitten, go grab a bag. You'll stay with me tonight.” I expect Eric to fight me, and I ready myself for it, but he doesn’t.
“Yeah, go ahead and take her. I could use a night without her bitching.”
“Eric, stop it!” she hollers through her tears, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Kate, don't argue. Just get your things!” I don't mean to yell, but this is escalating. He’s gone black, and we need to leave before it gets to a point where I can’t undo what I’ve done to him.
Her eyes widen, and she hesitates for a moment before finally scurrying down the hall to their room. I turn back to Eric, and he acts as if nothing has happened. Grabbing a beer from the fridge then plopping down on the couch and perching his feet on the table, he starts up the TV and takes a sip.
I shake my head, doing everything in my power not to ring his neck and put my fist in his face.
“You’re fucking gone, man,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Oh, save it. I don't need you to babysit me or preach like everyone else. God, that Sadie bitch really fucked everyone up. You all act so fucking high and mighty now.”
My knuckles crack at my side. Sadie and Kate have become mine; they are the women in my life I will tirelessly defend and protect. “Yeah, you keep thinking that. Whatever makes you feel better about yourself. You’re just threatened that we are all moving on and you’re still blaming your past for every poor choice you make. Fuck, you're pathetic.”
He rolls his eyes, his jaw clenching as he bites his tongue. I know that had to hit him below the belt.
Eric was once my best friend, but with years and years of drugs, alcohol, and women, he has wasted away to nothing and burned every stable bridge. He doesn't respond, shutting me out while Kate packs a bag. If I were him, I would be on my hands and knees begging in hysteria for her to stay.
She returns moment
s later, and Eric doesn't even glance at her as she stares him down with sorrowful eyes. “Eric, please, come back to us,” she cries, trying one last time and giving one more failed attempt to save him.
He stays still and watches the screen with the lip of his beer attached to his mouth for another swig.
“Come on, kitten,” I cut in and give her the sincere look of empathy. She nods and covers her mouth, grabbing her shoes and running out the door before I even have time to catch her. Before leaving, I stand in the doorway and look back at him.
“You just lost the one good thing in your life. Hope the fucking high was worth it.” Slamming the door, I bound down the stairs in a hurry to catch Kate, secretly hoping this is the end of them, that this is the time she really starts to heal.
§
Kate cried the entire drive to my place, not once looking up from her lap. She wiped at her tears, but some went uncaught, and the mascara-filled drops hit her dress and caused a mess. My heart ripped apart, knowing I couldn’t help her. We pulled up to my house, and I took her from the car and carried her nearly fragile, weak body inside and up the stairs to my room.
Once I laid her on the bed, I covered her with a blanket. She continued to whimper, and all I did was sit on the chair adjacent to my bed, listening and watching her until she couldn't keep her swollen eyes open. But even in her sleep, she cried a tortured song of pain.
Hours pass, and it only felt like minutes as I watched her, but my hunger gets me up and moving around 10:00 p.m. Standing, I leave the room and head into my kitchen to make myself some dinner. My mind is spinning, thinking about what happened tonight and what my actions started by kicking him out of the band and taking Kate home.
When he sobers up, he will come looking for her. And what happens if she takes him back? It’s happened before.
I have been there, been in this spiral of love, lust, drugs, heartbreak, and repeat. I married young, eighteen to be exact, to my first girlfriend, Susie. I loved her, or so I thought, but really, I was young and in lust, unsure of how to differentiate the two. But I was an addict, and when I went too into a binge, I put my wife in a hospital and myself behind bars. I may have said my apologies and dealt with years of pain, but the guilt and insurmountable regret that followed me in the days, weeks, months, years, and now decades after, still steals my breath at times.
I got clean. Have been clean for nearly twenty-three years. But the damage I caused and the pain I endured cannot be chased away by time. I’ve known Eric for seven years, and long before I met his high-strung, drugged-out eighteen-year-old self, he was the victim of a horror house type of childhood.
Eric has used longer than I’ve known him, and if Kate Beckett can’t get him sober, then heaven and hell colliding and shattering his world wouldn't even make him blink or feel threatened enough to change. This will fucking kill him, and I’m sure of it.
But it will kill Kate Beckett even more.
Kate Beckett.
Kate Beckett.
Holy hell, my Kate Beckett.
I met those green irises four years ago, and they have been locked inside my psyche, controlling me ever since. But she didn't see me first. How could she? Eric wrapped her around his pinky the moment he gave her that knowing wink from the stage. If only she caught mine first. I would have broken every rule inside me in that instant and claimed her as mine. But Eric got her, and like only a true artist could, he destroyed her.
Kate was a vibrant, carefree, wild child with an eager storm in her eyes. She had far too many ambitions that her reality couldn't catch up with, and now, that fire in her veins is gone. She seems so lost, and it’s heartbreaking to watch. Sadie, Kate’s best friend, has tried everything she can. Ben—Sadie’s husband, my best friend, and Eric’s band mate—has given that man so many chances. Any rational person would consider it disgraceful.
Me? I gave up a long time ago. As I was once an addict, I know the fight. I know the game. And no one can slow you down or give you a road map to an end in sight. Addicts have to change. Addicts have to choose to prevail. Some can. More need greater purpose to even propose a change in themselves. Mine was beating my wife and losing her. Ben, when he was on drugs, found his purpose when Sadie became pregnant and nearly took that all away when she left him.
Which brings me right back around. How could the idea of losing a woman like Kate not trigger a reaction in Eric?
My phone rings, interrupting my internal monologue.
“Hey, Ben, what’s up?”
“Did you find Eric?”
“I did. He’s done. I’m gonna find us a replacement.”
“Fuck.” Eric and Ben are the closest out of the bunch, and he knows now there is no salvaging what’s been done.
“Don’t worry about it. I know some people who can play for this album and tour at least.” I absentmindedly stir the spaghetti noodles.
“Yeah, I know you’ve got it. How’s Kate? Was she there?”
“She was, but she’s here staying the night. He was deep in it this time and saying some fucked-up shit.”
“Nick, be careful. She's vulnerable. Don't give in if she does.”
Ben knows how I feel about Kate; he knows she's my weakness. A habit I lust and obsess over in hopes she will be mine one day.
“I wouldn't fucking act on my feelings when she's weak.”
“You say that now. Listen, call me if you need me. I’ll have Sadie come by tomorrow to check on Kate. I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow. Sorry this is happening, man.” I hear the remorse in his voice, but I don't miss the disappointment. Ben has lost his friend in this too.
“Same. Night, brother.” We end the call, and I hear the noise of running water coming from my bedroom. Turning the nob to low on the stove, I head in to see if she needs anything. I didn't think she was going to wake up until morning.
“Kitten, are you okay? Shit,” I whisper, coming to the en suite and seeing she’s completely naked in front of the tub. She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to cover herself. She doesn't even seem bothered.
“Kate….” I can’t look away, and she doesn't make me either. Turning to face me, she stands bare. Long, lean legs, a tight stomach covered with a few different spots and freckles, a bare pussy, and perfect perky breasts. Holy fuck, I haven't touched a female in years, celibate by choice. I travel a lot, and groupies aren't my style. My right hand does the job.
“I know you’ve wanted me Nick. Please tell me I wasn't wrong.” She bites her lip.
“Kitten, you can’t do this right now. You're vulnerable. I can understand that, and I want to help you, but let me do it another way.” I step in with a sense of hesitation, uncertain because with each step, my hands twitch to touch her, my resistance slimming by each inch I draw closer.
“So are you.” She makes contact first, touching my chest.
“What do you want then?” I whisper, hearing Ben in my head scolding me for not listening.
“He’s looked through me for years. He stopped touching me the way I need to be. You are always protecting me, and I want to repay you.” She reaches for my belt, and I quickly grab her hands.
“You are not an obligation. Your safety is a necessity. You don't have to pay me with sex for protecting you.” God, he's fucked her up. Can she not hear what she is saying and just how bad he’s neglected her and reduced her worth to nothing in her eyes?
“A necessity for me, or you?” she breathes while leaning in closer to me, her scent drifting off her body and into me. Kate will be the death of me.
“Both.”
“Then let me be a necessity for your pleasure.”
My eyes finally open, and my sensibility kicks in. The need to respect her is stronger than my desire to eat her alive.
“Kate. I can’t. You know that.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't know what you want.”
“I do. I want you to touch me and take the pain away for the night.”
For the night? Fuck
me, she’s going to take him back.
“You aren't going to leave him, are you?” I ask, stepping back, now aggravated.
“Nick, it’s not that easy.”
“To hell it isn't. So, what? You were gonna make love to me and then go back to him? He treats you like fucking shit, Kate. He’s never going to change. Look at you!”
“He doesn't mean to. He’s broken.” She grabs a towel and covers herself. The haze of lust drifting out the door with the steam of the bathroom.
“And so are you! Fuck! I was him. Understand that I was him, and he will never change for anyone but himself. He doesn't even love you!” I immediately regret my words.
Her eyes well with more tears, and she shakes her head. “Yes, he does! He has to! Besides, it’s not about love anymore. It’s about being someone who didn’t walk away from him this time.” she screams, turning off the water and grabbing her clothes. She shoves past me, and I follow on her heels.
“Where are you going?” She throws on her dress sloppily, ignoring me. “Kate!” I grab her arm, and she turns on me, heaving and out of breath.
“I’m going home to him. I’m not wanted here, obviously,” she hisses through a cry.
“Baby, stop. You are, but I don't want to be a pawn in this game. I want you just as fucking much as you want me, but we can’t do that when you won’t let him go. Don’t you see the mess of that? How wrong that is?” We’re both aware that we want one another, but I wish I wouldn't have blurted it out like that in the middle of open fire. But she's too far gone. In fact, I don't think she even heard a word I said. Until she speaks.
“How dare you! Let me go then, Nick. I shouldn't have come here!” she yells, breaking free. She has nowhere to go. I have the keys, and she isn't leaving here—not a chance in hell.
“Kate!” I catch up to her and pull her back to my front, bending as she struggles against me. “Stop. Kitten, calm down. Stop it.” I move with her, and she screams and yells, fighting to leave me, but my grip never falters.
“Nick, please!” She doesn't beg for me to let go; somehow, deep in my soul, I know she’s begging for me to hold tighter. Contrary to what she thinks, she knows I’m right.
