The Place I Belong

by Inez Kelley

  “At this point, I don’t give a flying fuck where you sleep.” Punching the motor, he passed an eighteen-wheeler hauling milk. In the center console, his cell buzzed. He grabbed it and tapped it on. “Alcott...I’m on my way...It’ll be late, Noah, probably after midnight...All right, if you want...Don’t hold your breath, little brother. Look, traffic’s a bitch. I’ll call you when I hit Beckley.”

  He dropped the phone into the console without looking at her.

  “Noah’s your brother? Younger?”

  “By five years.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

  “Eighteen years. He was twelve then.” His jaw shifted. “Today’s the first I’ve ever heard from him. Said he wasn’t sure he should call me.” A loud breath puffed his cheek. “Tomorrow, you hang out at the hotel. I should be back by like one, one-thirty, and we can hit the road.”

  Zury stalled, angling over the seat and rifling through the plastic bag. “Oh, you got peanut M&M’s. Love them.” She retrieved the king-size bag of chocolates and a bottle of water. “And I’m not staying at the hotel. I’m going to the funeral with you.”

  His knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Not a chance in hell. I’m just going to make an appearance and then get the fuck out of there myself. No need to subject yourself to that.”

  “To what?”

  She made her way through four yellow and three orange M&M’s before he answered.

  “A bunch of backwater ideas and a lot of hostility. Trust me, it isn’t going to be some happy family reunion crap. They want to see me as much as I want to see him.”

  Him. Zury sucked on a blue candy, rolling it over her tongue. Jonah didn’t realize his misspoken words told her who he really dreaded seeing. His father. She offered Jonah some chocolate, pouring several into his cupped hand.

  “You need someone there, Jonah, if only to post your bail afterward.”

  “You might not be far from the truth.” A sharp scoff ripped from him. He shook his head, then popped the entire handful in his mouth. She waited, holding her breath while he chewed. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  * * *

  It was almost midnight by the time they carried their bags into a typical business suite with bland furniture, fake wood and nondescript artwork. Zury rolled her tote into the bedroom on the left. The generic queen bedroom set left everything to the imagination but it was clean. She hung her black dress to let the wrinkles fall out and set out her shower supplies.

  At some point, Jonah left the suite. The beep of his card key in the lock told her he returned minutes later. He was packing a short glass with ice from the filled bucket when she stuck her head out. “I’m going to shower and then go to bed. You should try to get some sleep.”

  “I have to call Noah first.” Two fingers of scotch poured over the ice. “I said I’d call when I got in.” He drained the glass and poured another. Obviously, his goal was oblivion via Three Wood single malt.

  Crossing the threshold, she covered the glass with one palm and stroked the other hand down his cheek. “Joni, talk to me. You’re hurting, mi vida, let me help you.”

  The breath he drew was a little shaky but he took her mouth with complete control. His lips crushed hers with a bruising force and she welcomed it, welcomed the break in his numbness. His tongue dipped into her mouth and brought the sweet taste of dried fruits and butterscotch from his liquor. His arm curled around her waist, pulling her close and deepening the kiss.

  Dios, she loved the feel of him. Her hands circled his shoulders, traced along his nape and sank into his hair. She gave as much as he accepted, took whatever he offered. He explored every inch of her mouth, every crevice, until she was breathless.

  Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Go shower, darlin’.”

  Zury reluctantly let him go. He wasn’t ready to let her in yet. She opted for a bath, shaving her legs and dawdling, basically giving him privacy to mourn. She didn’t have any brothers but considered Kenny her adopted sibling. She couldn’t imagine not speaking with him for eighteen years. What kind of wedge could have come between brothers? How could parents simply forget they had another son for nearly two decades? What had divided his family so irrevocably that they didn’t even speak by phone?

  She was wrinkled like a raisin when she climbed from the cool waters. She patted her hair dry and slipped into clean panties and a long shirt to sleep. Out in the meeting area, she could hear Jonah’s baritone in low soft tones. She couldn’t make out the words but there didn’t seem to be any arguments happening.

  Cracking the bedroom door, she shamelessly eavesdropped. He hadn’t opened the curtains and the only light came from the opposite bedroom’s half-shut door. The sound of tinkling ice and a swallow showed he was still drinking but there was no conversation. He reclined on the mini-couch, singing a hymn to himself softly in the dark.

  It had been years since she’d attended Mass, mostly going to the Methodist services with the Reynolds, then the nondenominational chapel at the Falls, but she didn’t recognize the haunting song. It spoke of green hills welcoming the lost, of doves singing and the glory of grace. Jonah was by no means a singer but his undiluted pain carried on every note.

  “Joni? Are you okay?”

  The song died away. She waited for a few minutes but he said nothing. Sorrow and loss hung in the room like smoke. She wanted to go to him, to take him in her arms and hold him through his pain, but couldn’t. To be that close when he was so fragile suddenly scared her. The man sitting in the dark, full of hurt and grief, was more than a friend in need. He’d stolen her heart. She loved him.

  So strong were the feelings that she bit her lips to keep them from spilling off her tongue. He’d spoken no promises, no vows, had claimed he ran from the L-word. Stating her love would only make him more uncomfortable. He didn’t need that now, not now, not when he was going through so much. After they returned home, then she would slowly let him drift away and spare him from the unpleasantness of an unreturned love. Tears crested in her vision.

  “Que duermas bien, Jonah.”

  Her whispered goodnight garnered no response. She left the door cracked and got into bed, staring up at the textured ceiling. Her mind replayed every minute they’d spent together, basking in the sweetness and regretting the bitterness. They hadn’t been together long but it seemed she had a million memories. The wind blowing his hair every which way, the sun raining golden light on his face, the summery scent of his skin. His laugh was so full and robust, his grumbles so deep and gravelly. She stood even with his chin, which always placed her cheek at the same height as his heartbeat. She’d grown used to that sound.

  For everything she knew, it was the unknown she regretted. She’d never discovered his hidden tattoo or figured out the weird mark on his back. She had no idea what the skin on his stomach tasted like or how snowflakes would look against his hair. They’d barely begun but she’d fallen fast and fallen hard. She had to let him go to preserve her own dignity. By his own admission he wasn’t the forever type.

  Not sleeping with him had been tough. Kissing him, holding him, feeling his body harden against hers was a thrilling torture. God, she wanted him in the most intimate and basic ways. But caving to that carnal desire would obliterate the fragile distance she’d been able to keep between them. It wasn’t as though she was immune. Far from it. She couldn’t seem to shower without sliding her fingers between her legs while thinking of him.

  Her bedroom door creaked open. Haloed in the faint light from his room, Jonah stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame. His shirt was only half-buttoned and his head hung low, midnight hair falling over his eyes. Still as stone, only the rise and fall of his chest proved he was alive.

  “Jonah?”

  He looked up and her heart cringed. So much ache
was written across his face. He looked lost and scared and so very alone. But beneath his turmoil, something else burned. The intensity in his gaze seared into her skin and warmed her. Pulse jumping in her neck, Zury tried to swallow. He looked as if he could devour her in one bite, lick his lips and search for more. He wanted her but more than that, right now he needed her. He needed comfort and tenderness, acceptance and love.

  Seconds ticked by. Her fingers tightened on the sheet instinctively. She wanted this, always had, but had shied from the eventual hurt she knew would come when he walked away. But for this minute, she set all of that aside. Tomorrow would come soon enough. Tonight, the man she loved needed her.

  She turned the sheet back and held out her arms.

  His shirt fell to the floor within two steps. The mattress dipped as he crawled up her legs and captured her mouth. There was a desperation in his kiss, a unrefined hunger that seared into her. Her nightshirt melted beneath his traveling hands, and he only pulled his lips from hers long enough to drag it over her head.

  “I need you.” Hot against her skin, his plea pierced her heart.

  “I’m here, mi vida. I’m here.”

  Rough palms cradled her breasts. He bowed his head, brought the tips to his mouth and murmured against her skin. “Want to make you feel good.”

  “You do.”

  “Not enough. But I will.”

  The promise stole into her with a roar. Her breasts swelled and grew heavy when he circled one thrusting peak with his stiffened tongue. The long line of his back moved under her hands as he shifted and took the crest between his lips, swathing it with his tongue. He sucked and his name hissed from between her teeth.

  He kissed every inch of her, her shoulders, her ribs, her thighs, her knees. Each touch of his mouth was followed by a slow sizzling lick that melted her bones. The midnight velvet of his hair feathered through her fingers as he nuzzled her stomach, dipping his tongue into the well of her navel. Hooking his fingers in the band of her panties, he tugged them down her legs. He eased her knees apart and softly stroked up her inner thighs. Zury moaned and opened herself wider to his touch.

  “That’s it. Open for me. Let me touch you.”

  He didn’t know how open she was. More than her body lay exposed beneath him. Her heart and soul were bare and his for the taking. Words whispered from her mouth, every wrenching expression of love, every flowery vow and every hopeful longing spilled out. Just not in a language he understood. But it was enough for now. She had said them, unfettered and without fear.

  His fingertips grazed the damp outer edges of her pussy, skating along the folds in a leisurely but determined path. The aching knot at the top, he completely ignored. Her hips thrust up, begging for more, but he wouldn’t be led. He simply touched her, teased her, worked her blood to a furiously pounding rhythm.

  He sucked a stiffened nipple between his lips and nibbled while his hands tormented her. Sensations layered atop one another and she grabbed the pillow, trying to find an anchor. Jonah eased a finger inside her. Muscles slick with want clamped down, desperate to be filled. Pumping his hand, he stroked her, adding a second finger to the torture. The room shrank until nothing in the world existed except for him, his hands, his mouth, his breath on her skin.

  Everything inside her grew tight, building her up toward release. The broad pad of his thumb skimmed her ripe clit and she vaulted, thrusting closer to his touch. Seconds before she climaxed, his hands vanished and a cry pealed from her. Jonah surged to his knees, tore at his jeans and shoved them low. His cock sprang from confinement like a rearing stallion, proud and untamed. Her palms itched to cup him, to stroke the thick column, but he moved away, tossing his pants aside.

  He clutched his wallet in his hand as he returned between her legs, but made no move to retrieve a condom. Instead, he spread her thighs with his forearms and brought his mouth to her center. Cradling her butt in his hands, he attacked her with a voracious appetite. The scruff of his beard shadow scraped against her skin, tingling her nerve endings. Fusing his mouth to her clit, he fluttered his tongue then drove it into her, curling it and licking up. Buried in her pillow, her fists clenched in pure ecstasy.

  He gave her no chance to catch a calming breath. He took her straight up, up, up until her bones locked. A pinpoint of light exploded in her closed eyes as climax washed over her. The power of it bowed her body off the mattress but his mouth never stopped, nipping, licking, sucking at her until he’d wrung every drop from her.

  The aftermath wasn’t quiet. Too much had built and an inferno raged. The soft tear of a plastic wrapper and the sinking of the mattress were her only warning. His hands landed on either side of her head and his kiss scorched her lips as he nudged against her, then pressed inside. The lusciously decadent feel of him stretching and filling her highlighted her own flavor on his lips. A moan sounded. Hers? His? Theirs? She had no idea, only knew that he’d made them one.

  For three furious beats of her heart, he didn’t move. The hard planes of his chest heaved, brushing hers with every breath. Her nails bit into his sides, more to center herself in the pleasure than from pain.

  “Oh God, Zury, you take me so good.”

  One rough palm slid down her thigh to grip behind her knee. He raised her leg, bringing it along his hip. The slight change seated him deeper and she went wild. She raked his back and clutched at his shoulders, wanting, needing him closer, deeper. Jonah answered, ramming into her, retreating, returning with as much force. No civility softened his strokes. He was pure and raw and hungry and she loved it. Sweat slicked his back and the heady aroma of them filled the room.

  He reared back on his arms, levering higher against her, grinding against her clit with every thrust. Teeth gritted and bared in a carnal snarl, he hurled them closer to orgasm. She began to build again and squeezed around him. He moaned her name as his rhythm reached a frenetic tempo. A single chant circled her brain. Te amo. Te amo. Te amo. I love you. I love you. I love you.

  An animalistic roar powered from him as he sank deeper than before and let go. He surged inside her, swelling and throbbing, and her body responded, shuddering in release. Together, they hung in the misty middle ground for ages, then drifted down as one.

  Jonah buried his face in her shoulder, hot breath panting across her neck. The first sob hit him hard, jerking his spine and shaking his shoulders. Zury wrapped her arms around him and held tight, letting his tears pool on her skin. She kissed his ear, the side of his cheek, his temple, all the while stroking his hair and whispering low words of comfort.

  “Shhhh, amor, todo va a estar bien.”

  Silent tears of commiseration and love trickled from her eyes but she didn’t wipe them away. Her only thought was to ease his hurt. She couldn’t erase it but she could hold him, at least for now when he was at his most vulnerable. Knowing she couldn’t keep him made her own tears bitter.

  Chapter Ten

  Do not withhold discipline from your children;

  if you beat them with a rod, they will not die.

  Proverbs 23:13 New Revised Standard Version

  Traditionally, hickory has been used for objects that require strength and must take abuse. One rather infamous use of hickory was in paddles that were a standard method of punishment in many homes and schoolrooms.

  They’d forgone an actual breakfast, grabbing complimentary coffee in the suite before heading for the car. Despite the bright sky, a light misty rain fell and Jonah held a black umbrella over their heads, keeping most of the water away. Zury’s heels clicked on the wet asphalt like pops from a cap gun. She hadn’t been sure exactly how to dress and had chosen a simple black sleeveless sheath that hit right above her knees. Out of respect, she’d kept her makeup light and carried several tissues in her clutch purse.

  He helped her into the Mustang then rounded to the driver’s side. He’d barely
spoken. If he had a hangover, she couldn’t tell. He looked simply delicious all in black. And she did mean all in black. His shoes, his suit, his shirt and his tie were all the same somber shade. Even the handkerchief in his breast pocket was black. Combined with his slicked-back hair and wrap-around sunglasses, he looked like a high-priced gangster.

  They had about a forty-five minute drive to the funeral home for the eleven o’clock service. Jonah kept to the speed limit as she watched the scenery turn shabby and sparse. Gone were the busy shops of Beckley, replaced by rundown trailers and scraggy dogs tied to sad little boxes. Towns turned to villages and small clusters of houses. A narrow country road twisted under the tree canopy, and the few vehicles they passed were mostly farm trucks and pickups with the occasional older sedan.

  “Hey.” He squeezed her hand. “You look beautiful.”

  Offering him a gentle but sincere smile, she squeezed back. “Doing okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  She didn’t buy it for a minute.

  She’d thought it was impossible for him to get any more tense, but as the trees thinned and the outskirts of small town emerged, it was as if liquid steel poured into his frame. Her stomach made a nervous gurgle and she pressed her palm against it, willing it to quiet.

  Jonah needed her to be strong right now. She had no idea what they were walking into but he seemed braced for a battle. More cars appeared, lining the sides of the small street. Slowing to a crawl, Jonah flipped the blinker at a huge restored Victorian bearing the sign O’Dells Funeral Home. Zury sucked in a silent breath.

  There were two open spots marked Family but he ignored them, driving to the far side of the parking lot. He eased between a van and a blue sedan with a rusted-out bumper and shut the engine off. The rain slowed to intermittent droplets. It was 10:52 a.m. He sat, one hand on the wheel, the other balled in his lap, and just watched.