Make Me Forget

by Anna Brooks

  “It wasn’t against my will, but if I can’t move, or if someone grabs me, it brings up stuff. I’m getting better, but that caught me off guard. I needed a minute.” She takes a deep breath and rocks my world. “Especially now that you’re here, I feel safe.”

  She hops off and walks inside, right past me. “Come on, I’ll get you a beer.”

  With no choice but to follow, I reach her quickly, and she puts her hand out for me to grab, like it’s natural.

  When we round the corner to the bar, I see it’s already picked up. The men’s softball team The Pub sponsors is here, and I tug on her arm a little before she walks behind the bar.

  “I need you to kiss me, right now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Now, Charlotte.”

  She doesn’t hesitate, and lifts up on her toes and presses her lips to mine. I grab her ass to pull her closer, and she emits a small squeal as her arms wrap around my neck. I take all she allows until she pulls away panting.

  “What was that for?” she asks breathless.

  “Now all these fuckers know you’re mine. Go get me a beer, woman.” I give her a little shove, but she hardly moves, mouth hanging open. “Beer,” I repeat with a smirk on my face.

  She shakes her head, laughing, and goes to the tap. I love that we can joke like we used to. I know she went through some traumatic things, but we need to at least try normal.

  “Nice, man. That wasn’t obvious or anything,” Matt, one of the other bouncers, says next to me.

  “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” I laugh and take my beer from Char as she rolls her eyes at me.

  “For now. What are you gonna do when a new group of guys come in? Drag her across the bar caveman style?” He’s joking, but he’s right.

  I can’t be here with her all the time. I trust her; it’s the drunk idiots that think they can touch women after they’ve had a few that I worry about. Not only does it piss me off to think about someone else touching her, it concerns me because of what she’s been through.

  “That’s what you guys are for. Watch her for me, alright?” I raise my glass at him, and he nods in understanding.

  I talk a little more with Matt, and Meara comes over by me for a bit, too. Char’s eyes find mine a few times, and she smiles, reassuring me she’s really okay.

  As the night drags on, I groan internally because I have to be up by six tomorrow. Finally, at almost two in the morning, Char walks around the bar and rubs my shoulders.

  “I’m done. Meara’s closing up for me.”

  “Good, I’m tired. Ready to leave?”

  “Yeah,” she smiles shyly.

  I get off the stool and wrap my arm around her shoulder. We say our goodbyes and go to the parking lot.

  “Can you come to my place?” I ask. “I have to get up early.”

  “Sure, I’ll follow you.”

  ***

  Char is in my bed, and I have her pulled close. We got in bed right away, both of us exhausted.

  “I like this,” she whispers.

  “Me, too, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. “Get some sleep.”

  “Okay. Travis?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “You know I love you, too, right?”

  I smile against her head. “I do now.”

  She cuddles closer, and after only a couple minutes, her breathing evens out, and I know she’s fallen asleep. As tired as I am, I can’t sleep. Horrible images flash through my mind of her being tied up. He had better hope we never cross paths, because I will end him.

  I hold her a little tighter and finally drift off.

  20

  Charlotte

  “Why are you so nervous?” Meara asks as we flip stools onto the tabletops. It’s Saturday night, well, really Sunday morning, and the bar is empty as we do the nightly clean up.

  “I don’t know. I didn't tell him I’m coming. I’ve never met anyone he works with.”

  “Yeah, so? They’re just a bunch of dudes.”

  I decided somewhat spontaneously that I’m going to bring Travis lunch tomorrow. I miss him, and I know he can’t leave the station, so I have to go to him. Texting and the occasional two-minute phone call are not cutting it anymore.

  “I know, but still. Me going to see him at work is like putting a stamp on my forehead that says I’m in a relationship with him,” I sigh. “Not that I don’t want that. It’s just that I’ll be the one making the effort this time when he’s been the one doing it so far.”

  “That’s a good thing, sweetie. It’ll mean a lot to him. He’s a guy; they’re just little boys at heart. They need to feel loved, too.” She sticks out her bottom lip and pouts.

  “I know, you’re right. Speaking of little boys, how’s Liam?” I tease. Liam is anything but little. He’s at least six-foot-three.

  “He’s great.” The love seeping out of her pores as she talks about her boyfriend is nauseating. “I think they’re coming home for a couple weeks next month. If they can’t, I’m gonna go to him. It’s been like three months since I’ve seen him.” I’m shocked when she wipes her eyes. Meara doesn’t cry.

  “Aw, honey, what’s wrong?” I hand her a small white cocktail napkin and hop up on the bar. She walks behind it and pours a shot, swallowing in one swift motion.

  “I just miss him is all. We grew up together. We were inseparable. Seeing him once every few months sucks ass.” Her lip quivers, and as quick as it was there, she pushes it away. “So, what are you bringing him?” She’s officially changed the subject. Stubborn, she is so damn stubborn.

  “Sandwiches, I guess. Why? Is that not good?” Panic rises and I scramble off the bar to grab my phone in search of recipes.

  Meara grabs my wrist. “Sandwiches are great. Relax, woman.” Her laughter puts me at ease, and we finish our clean-up duties in companionable silence.

  Bartending is not what I had planned for my future. I graduated with a degree in business. Generic, safe. I really don’t know what I want to do with my future at this point. I like The Pub, I love working with my family, and if I never left here, I’d be fine with that. As long as I’m with Travis, I’ll be happy, so a job is the least of my worries right now.

  ***

  “Hi. Can I help you?”

  I smile at the girl who greets me when I walk into the firehouse.

  Deciding confident is the only way to go, I answer her. “Hi.” I give her a big smile, partly to show her that I’m really a nice person, but mainly to display the fact that I don’t see her as a threat. Women are weird like that. “I’m here to see Travis Parker. Do you know where he is?”

  “Yeah, they’re all out back playing basketball. Come on, I’ll take you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I fall in step behind her and try to look at the pictures and articles hanging on the walls. The general consensus of the headlines is lives saved, but some of the newspaper clips are also the firefighters donating their time to various charities throughout the community.

  We arrive at a door, and she pushes it open. I’m momentarily blinded by the sun, but step to the side where the shade protects my eyes. My mouth falls open, and I’m suddenly hot.

  “Holy crap,” I whisper.

  There are about eight shirtless men playing basketball. They’re all sweaty and built like calendar models. I can’t help but stare. I mean, who wouldn’t?

  A throat clearing makes me jump, and I turn to look at the girl I followed. I forgot she was even here.

  “Shit, sorry,” I put my hand on my heart in an attempt to relax. “That’s just…”

  “I know, trust me. When I first started, I looked just like you, but now it doesn’t even phase me. Besides, these guys are like my brothers, so it’s kind of gross.” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Stacey. You?”

  “I’m Charlotte.”

  Her eyes widen and she laughs a little. “Ahh, the famous Char
lotte. Travis and I have spent many-a-night talking about you.”

  My shackles rise, and my back stiffens. She must notice my reaction because she immediately grabs my hand. “No, not like that. He didn’t tell me much, but I do know how much that guy loves you. Couldn’t get a better one, either. He’s the nicest of the bunch.”

  “I know. He’s the best.”

  Stacey watches, while I gawk at the guys playing for a few more minutes. The ball rolls in our direction and every set of eyes is suddenly on me. I force myself to stand tall and not be intimidated by these men.

  “Who's your friend, Stace?” one of them asks her while he looks me up and down. I try my best not to look at anything other than his eyes. The bare chest and toned arms make it really difficult. I’m in love with Travis, but I’m not dead.

  Stacey laughs and mutters under her breath, “This’ll be entertaining.” Clearly wanting to have some fun on Travis’ expense, she answers, “This is my friend, Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Miller.”

  He sticks out his hand, and I smile at him while shaking it. “Nice to meet you.” I look beyond him and see Travis closing in, wearing just a pair of black shorts slung low on his hips. “But I’m here–”

  “She’s here for me. Hands off, fucker.” Travis smiles, but the ferocity in his voice says otherwise.

  He grabs my hand and pulls it out of Miller’s, holding me firmly against his side.

  “Alright, man. I was just saying hi. When did you become so uptight?”

  Travis looks at me, and the intensity in his eyes makes me gasp. His hand tightens on mine, and I can hear my heart beating in my head. Ignoring everyone else around, he walks around the building and presses me against the brick wall.

  “Hi.” Nothing better comes out of my mouth, and I chastise myself for being so lame. “I brought you lunch, I hope it’s okay.”

  His eyes roam down my body, and my feet shuffle nervously. I should have dressed better than a pair of flip-flops, leggings, and a couple layered tank tops. I didn’t do anything to my hair because I slept late, so it’s just hanging down around my shoulders. Once his orbs make their way back up to mine, he tilts his head and asks, “I haven’t seen you for almost three days, right?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  “Oh, well, you’re working and–”

  “Why, Char?”

  “What?”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I feel like this is a trick question, Travis.”

  “It’s not. I just want to know why.”

  “Because I missed you.” The words flow freely. It’s the truth. I missed him.

  He rests his forearms on either side of my head and presses his lips to mine. I don’t hesitate to open for him. His tongue is greedy, exploring every inch of my mouth. He leans into me, and when his bare chest touches my hardened nipples, I moan. His hands roam down my body, stopping when his thumbs rub the underside of my breasts. His hands arrive on my backside, and he hoists me up, pressing me further into the bricks.

  My legs wrap around, pull him closer, and I’m grinding on him like a cat in heat. Of course, his hard dick hits in just the right place, and I moan at the contact. I want him so bad, but not like this, someone could see us. I know he’d keep going until I got off, even if he doesn’t.

  I pull back, sucking his lip. He rests his head on my shoulder and a bead of sweat drips down my arm.

  My feet rest on the ground, and his eyes gloss over for a brief second. He looks away and blinks rapidly before pulling me close again and burying his face in my hair.

  “God, I missed you. I just wanted to hear you say it. I feel like you’re still so far away but I’m afraid to push you too fast.” He lifts his head and smooths my hair with one hand while the other maintains firm on my hip. “I like that you came to me. I need to know what I feel isn't one sided.”

  “It’s only ever been you,” I whisper.

  He kisses my forehead and backs away, running his hands through his sweaty hair “Are you gonna feed me or what?”

  We’re sitting on a bench under a large oak tree on the same side of the building as before. He gave me a tour of the station and introduced me to all the other guys. He only growled a couple times, but I think the guys were purposely messing with him.

  “It’s just sandwiches, nothing fancy.”

  “Sweetheart, it could be tuna out of a can, and I wouldn’t complain. The fact that you brought it is all that counts.”

  I laugh and hand him a soda. “I would never bring you canned tuna.”

  “Well, if you did, I’d eat it.”

  The slight breeze from the trees cools my skin perfectly, and we both finish our food. He pulls me over to him, and I mentally curse him for putting his t-shirt back on.

  “I know we haven’t talked about it, but I’ve been dying to find out how you know Mary,” I ask him.

  When we came back the night I ran away, details seemed to have gotten lost in the shuffle. I know there’s more to her story than what she told me. I explained how I ended up at the hotel. I was amazed by his support, only getting angry that I put myself in danger. In all of the discussion, I forgot to ask how he knows Mary.

  “Mary was Brandon’s best friend growing up.”

  “Just a friend?”

  “I thought so. But by the looks of their reunion, there must be more.” He rubs his chin. “Brandon is being tight lipped about her. I’ve asked him, but he won’t tell me shit.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “I guess. She had a shitty childhood and was at our house all the time. I was younger than them, so there were things hidden from me.”

  “What kind of things?” I sit up and cross my legs, eager to hear more.

  “I don’t really know. I do remember my dad and Brandon arguing about her one time. Brandon was yelling at Dad to do something about her parents, but when I walked in the room, they stopped talking.”

  “Hmm. I think I’m gonna go see her again.”

  “No,” he responds quickly, leaving no room for argument.

  “Why not?”

  “That hotel is in a shitty part of the city, and I don’t want you there alone.”

  “Oh.” I’m not used to this, and I need to remember there are people who care about me. I’m not alone anymore.

  My brows scrunch together when I think about all I’ve missed the past few years. Instead of being with Todd, I could have been here, wrapped in Travis’ embrace, feeling like I matter. Being a part of a family. Not only my own, but Travis’, too.

  “Hey,” he says softly, “what’s with the long face?”

  “Nothing.” I smile, but he shakes his head.

  “It’s not nothing.”

  “I was just thinking how I missed out on three years of happiness with you.”

  “It sucks, doesn’t it? I think about that, too, but we’re together now. That’s all that matters. Our future is going to kick ass, sweetheart. We’re indestructible together; Romeo and Juliet ain’t got shit on us.”

  ***

  Travis’ family is coming up for Sunday dinner. We’re meeting them in about a half hour, and I’m still in my robe. When my buzzer sounds, I unlock the entry door for Travis; he must have forgotten the set of keys I gave him.

  Every night he’s not working, we’re at each other’s places. It’s perfectly normal; some might say boring, even. Meara fixed my schedule so I work when Travis does, and we pretty much just spend every other waking moment together. It’s like the summer we met all over again, and it’s absolutely amazing.

  We decided to take things slow, and as much as we both want to, we still haven’t had sex yet. I’m ready, God, I’m ready. I fixed my hair wavy how he likes and am wearing a skimpy black lace bra and panty set. I’ve decided tonight will be the night, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Nothing could ruin my happiness right now, and I refuse to let the past hold me back anymore.

  During the past two months, I
’ve gotten a flat tire, my water heater broke, and I locked myself out of my condo in the rain.

  All those things would have usually caused me stress, but not anymore. I have a man who helps me fix them, and a family to laugh with for not knowing how to change a tire. It couldn’t get more perfect. I’ve been seeing a new therapist and feel wonderfully and completely happy, finally.

  Why then, when I open my door for Travis, is Todd staring back at me?

  “No.” I push the door, but he sticks his loafer in and shoves it open. “No, I don’t want you here.” My heart is racing, and my palms become sweaty as he’s barging in. I back up and have to hold onto the kitchen counter. The knife block is across from me, and there’s no way I could reach it without going past him. I’m shaking so bad I’m about to fall over.

  I panic, struggling to breathe as tears blur my eyes. “No. No. No. Leave. You’ve ruined enough of my life.”

  He looks like shit. His hair is longer than usual, and his cheeks are sunken in. The suit jacket hangs off his shoulders, and his stubble is unkempt. The way his eyes glass over and squint petrify me.

  “I just want to talk to you. I’ve been waiting, following you from that bar you told me your family owned.” He shuts the door and puts the chain on. “I’ve missed you.”

  “No. Get out!” I scream. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I left her,” he whispers. “I left her to be with you.” He removes his jacket and tosses it on the floor.

  My cell phone is on the coffee table. He’s taking slow purposeful steps toward me.

  Tears fall over when his voice changes and he puts his hand on his belt. “Get over here.” He’s trying to manipulate me, using the voice that I used to submit to, but it won’t work this time.

  “No,” I cry. “No.”

  “I said, get over here.”

  When I still don’t move, he rushes at me, and I bolt away. I grab my cell from the table, but he tackles me to the ground, pinning my arms underneath me. The phone flies across the room, and his tall body straddles me. My breasts are crushed to the floor painfully, and I can no longer move the upper half of my body. I scream, and he slaps a hand over my mouth, before he replaces it with his tie, muffling my cries.