To Have and to Harm

by Debra Doxer

  But even as he’s apologizing, along with the pain I can feel the fullness of him inside me. Soon the hurt dulls, pushed away by the desire that’s returning, and I move my hips, needing friction.

  Lucas levels himself above me, watching my expression closely. He begins to rock into me, slowly at first, then faster as I move with him. Each stroke shocks my sensitive flesh as I shift beneath him, adjusting to the feel of him. I reach up, clasping my hands around his neck, keeping our gazes locked, watching every subtle change on his face. His eyes read mine, shining at me when I start to pant softly and turn my head into the pillow, anticipating the way I’m going to shatter beneath him.

  He takes my hands from around his neck and places them above my head, stretching me out, then shifts our hips up so he can push even deeper inside me, and hits a spot that makes my body catch fire. The muscles low in my stomach contract. I’m trying to hold back my climax, wanting to watch him unravel with me, but I can’t stop it, and I begin to arch up off the mattress.

  “That’s right, Ray,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Now, baby.”

  My muscles pulse around him. I hear him groan as waves of pleasure wash over me, drowning me in sensation. My body bows beneath his, but I still manage to see the way his expression tightens with his release. We’re falling apart together, and I never knew I could feel this close to anyone.

  Our breaths are in sync, and so are our racing hearts. When the room comes back into focus, my limbs feel heavy. Lucas’s weight is on me, his moist skin pressed against mine. When he starts to roll to his side, my arms come around him. “Don’t.”

  His face fills with concern. “Are you okay?”

  I can’t hide my satisfied smile.

  He laughs softly. It’s a deep, sexy rumble that I can feel vibrating inside him. When he does finally move onto his side, he takes me with him, keeping our bodies pressed together. His blue eyes bathe me in affection as his fingers lightly graze up and down my arm. “You’re mine now,” he says.

  I revel in the possessive glint in his eye as I run my fingers through his mussed hair. I can’t seem to get enough of touching him.

  When the energy ignites inside me, I’m caught off guard. Closing my eyes, I will it away, trying to hold it in. But my growing anxiety only makes it worse. Afraid I might hurt him again, I frantically push myself back, breaking our contact.

  His eyes widen in alarm.

  Fisting my hands, I try to stop it. But then I realize that it’s not flowing out of me. Instead, it’s traveling down through my body and once it settles and the healing starts, I understand what’s happening. “No,” I mutter, sitting up. “No…” But I can’t seem to stop it.

  “What is it?” Lucas asks. I can hear the fear in his voice as he grasps my shoulders.

  Wordlessly, I shake my head as my body finishes healing itself and the coil of energy retreats. He gently shakes me, his face a mask of worry. “Ray?”

  My hands grip the sheets in frustration. I meet his gaze, not wanting to say it out loud.

  “You’re scaring me,” he whispers hoarsely.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I healed myself.”

  His expression doesn’t change.

  My eyes close. “I healed myself.”

  When I dare to look at him again, he blinks at me, still not comprehending, but there’s no way I’m repeating it another time. Then he narrows his eyes and understanding smoothes his brow. “You mean you…” He trails off and glances down at the lower half of my body, covered by the sheets.

  “Yes,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks burn, pulling my knees in and hugging my arms around them.

  Lucas sighs heavily and falls back against the pillow.

  “I couldn’t control it. The energy started on its own,” I explain, unable to look at him.

  His hand slides down over my back. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  I can feel his relief, but I can’t share it.

  “At least you didn’t knock me off the bed again.”

  I turn around to see one side of his mouth pulling up. He’s trying to make light of it for me, but it isn’t working. “Lucas, please. This is mortifying.”

  He sobers as his hand reaches up and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. Then his eyes close and he mutters a curse. “It’s going to hurt you again the next time,” he says, realizing the ramifications. He shifts away. “What’s going on? Why is this happening to you all of a sudden?”

  I slump back onto the bed, pulling the sheets up over me. “I don’t know. My father said that sometimes our power grows stronger as we mature. But I don’t think this is what he meant.” I laugh harshly, hating the tremulous sound of my voice. I can’t stand feeling so out of control.

  “Hey, come on.” He moves beside me and pulls me close. My head tilts up at him, and there’s an odd expression on his face I’ve never seen there before. I realize that he’s completely thrown by this. Strong, arrogant Lucas is off-balance, and that makes me feel like I’m falling with nothing to grab on to.

  “It was good, right?” I ask after a while, nervous that I’ve ruined it. “I mean, I thought so.”

  His eyes focus on mine, and he looks at me like I’ve just asked a really dumb question. “You were there, right? It wasn’t just good.”

  Despite everything, I smile. “Better than good?”

  “Yes, Ray, a lot better than good,” he says, kissing me on the head. Then he exhales heavily. “Let’s go to sleep. No staying up all night worrying about this. It won’t do you any good. We can worry tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper, knowing it’s unlikely that either of us can do what he’s asking.

  HOURS LATER, sleep is still out of reach. As I lie beside Lucas in the darkness, my thoughts won’t turn off. He’s sleeping but he’s restless, constantly moving and pulling at the sheets.

  As I slip quietly out of bed and relocate to the chair beside the window, I recall his sinking mood earlier. My gaze travels from the blackness outside to the person I love more than I ever thought possible.

  My eyes squeeze closed in frustration and embarrassment at how I healed myself tonight. God only knows what Lucas is really thinking. He’s so good at hiding his feelings, but he couldn’t hide how completely out of his depth he felt when he looked at me earlier.

  “Can’t you sleep?”

  Startled, I see his eyes are wide open and focused on me. I shake my head, watching as he pushes off the blankets and stands in the shadowed bedroom. His naked body is beautiful, sleek and sculpted in the moonlight. I’m transfixed by the way he moves, the roll of his hips and the pull of his muscles. He slides on his pajama bottoms and comes to the window to sit in the chair across from me.

  “Are you still worrying about what happened?” he asks tentatively, like he’s afraid to upset me.

  I give him a small smile before glancing outside again, but all I see is both our reflections in the glass. “It’s hard not to.”

  His gaze goes to the window also, meeting mine.

  “Is everything okay at home?” I ask carefully.

  His jaw tightens, and his gaze stays fixed for a moment before he turns back to me. He rubs his hands over his thighs when he says, “They had to put my mother back in a hospital.”

  My heart stutters at the pain I hear in his voice. “Because of the depression?” I ask, hoping it’s not something worse, that she’s turned violent again.

  He nods stiffly.

  “That’s what those phone calls have been about, the ones that have been upsetting you?”

  Not answering me, he runs a hand over the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable and restless now. Talking about this is still so hard for him.

  “You should go home and be with them,” I suggest, even though being without him is the last thing I want.

  “I’m not leaving you. That’s…” He pauses. “Not an option.”

  Slowly, I push myself off my chair and bend down in front of him, resting my arms
on his legs. “If you want to go home for a few days, I’ll go with you.”

  Surprise flickers in his eyes. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course.”

  He watches me for a heartbeat before smiling sadly, and when he looks away again, I know he’s not going to take me up on it. Setting me aside, he stands and walks over to his bag. “I have something to show you.” He searches inside it, shifting things around. Then he pulls out a cell phone. After fiddling with it, he stills, looking intently at the screen.

  I walk over to see, and I’m surprised to find that it’s my phone, the one Kyle gave to me, and Lucas is staring down at the picture Gwen took of us at the prom.

  He tilts it toward me. “I stole it from your room after you left. You never showed me this photo of us.”

  “I never got a chance.” I take it in, admiring how handsome Lucas looks in his tuxedo, recalling the song that was playing and the feel of him holding me safe in his arms, even though everything in his life was such a mess. “I remember how I felt when I first saw that picture.”

  The weight of his gaze is on me. “I felt special. Because of the way you’re looking at me.”

  He offers me a wistful smile. “I’m glad. You saw the truth.” He tries to hand me the phone.

  I shake my head. “That’s not mine anymore.”

  His eyes narrow. “Do you have a phone?”

  “No.” I take a step back.

  He holds it out to me again. “It still works.”

  I think of the people who could call me on that phone, the ones I walked away from without even saying good-bye. “I can’t use that. Is Kyle still paying for it?”

  “Looks that way.” He shrugs. “He probably thinks you still have it.”

  “I can’t take it. It’s not right. What if…what if Kyle calls me?”

  He closes the distance. “Then you answer it, which is the same thing you’ll do when I call you. You need to have a phone. At least take this until we can get you a new one.”

  He has that stubborn glint in his eyes, and I know he’s not going to give up. Reluctantly, I take it from his hand, holding it gingerly in mine.

  “And there’s something else.” He reaches in his bag again and withdraws a rectangular box. “I know I missed your birthday, but I got you something.”

  I stare at it, shocked.

  He takes my hand and places the box in my palm. “Open it.”

  “I can’t believe you got me a gift.” My pulse kicks up as I carefully lift the top. There inside, lying on a bed of cotton, is a delicate silver chain with a pendant made up of two intertwined rounded silver square shapes. Each square is completely covered in small blue gemstones.

  “It reminded me of your eyes, and I knew I had to get it for you.”

  My vision blurs with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Let me put it on you.” He withdraws the necklace from the box, and I notice how its delicate shape contrasts against his large hands, which handle it deftly as he raises it over my head.

  I feel it come around my neck as he sweeps my hair over my shoulder to fasten the clasp. When the cool metal settles just below the base of my throat, my fingers reach up to touch it.

  “Happy belated birthday.” He smiles, moving in front of me to see how it looks. I watch the way his eyes crinkle at the edges. That’s how I know it’s a genuinely happy smile, when it reaches his eyes. My fingers smooth over the necklace, and my heart swells at his gesture.

  “Thank you. I love it.” I throw my arms around him and squeeze tightly. He doesn’t realize that this is the first real birthday present I’ve ever gotten. He can’t understand how much this means to me. The fact that he remembered and thought about my birthday would have surprised me enough, never mind giving me a gift.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispers against my skin, tickling my neck with his breath, making me shiver.

  Morning is still hours away when we crawl back under the covers together, and I lay my cheek against the warm skin of his chest. He begins absently running his fingers through my hair. I lightly trace over the edges of the pendant, a symbol of all the wonderful and unexpected things Lucas has given to me, most of which can’t be seen or held in my hand.

  As I finally fall asleep, the dull roar of catastrophe that always echoes at the edges of my life seems less real than the man lying beside me now. As long as I have him, it feels like I can get through everything else. I never thought of myself as lucky before, but I’m starting to feel that now, and I also feel thankful for the first time in a very long while.

  BANGING COMING from the kitchen startles me awake. I blink at the muted light coming through the windows as I look around for Raielle. I find her already dressed, coming out of the bathroom and scowling at the door. “Shane is home,” she says.

  Her birthday present rests against her pale skin, and seeing it there does something to me. When I bought it, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get the chance to give it to her.

  “Did you sleep at all?” I ask, sitting up and scrubbing my hands over my face.

  “Some.” She smiles at me before glancing away. She’s still upset about what happened. I hate that our first time ended like that. I wanted more of her afterward, and less of the angst and confusion that seem to dog us. But I should have learned by now; Raielle is never what I expect.

  She’s still making faces at the noise beyond the door. “Why do you hate him so much?” I ask.

  Biting her bottom lip, she looks as though she doesn’t want to tell me.

  “I get that he’s not exactly a pillar of society, but has he done something to you?”

  She sighs, absently fingering her birthday present. “When I first got here, I was”—her eyes meet mine briefly—“a mess, and he was just so awful. He’s…I don’t know, empty is what comes to mind. I don’t feel anything good inside him. It’s hard to explain. But he’s had some bad stuff happen to him. Maybe it’s not his fault.”

  “What kind of bad stuff?” I ask, wondering how awful he was to her, and starting to feel tense just thinking about the possibilities.

  She begins sorting items on her dresser. “The kind where your mother and twin brother are murdered. It was a long time ago.”

  My eyes widen at that. “What happened?”

  She turns to face me again. “It was to get back at my father when he refused to do a healing. Apparently that’s one of the reasons for all the secrecy and the security, and he says that’s why my mother ran away with me. She was scared for us.”

  Masking my automatic suspicion of anything her father tells her, I get up out of bed. “Well, you lost your mother the same way,” I point out. “It doesn’t affect how you treat other people. If your instincts are telling you he’s no good, you’re probably right to trust them.”

  “But yesterday you said my judgment sucks.”

  I move toward her and pull her in close. “Only when it comes to yourself and your own safety.” Then I lean down to kiss her, smiling at the traces of minty toothpaste I’m picking up.

  She trails her delicate fingers over my chest, and I groan at the sensation, knowing I can’t follow through on what she’s unknowingly starting. On that same topic, I’m wondering if I should bring up what happened last night again because I’m positive she won’t. “You okay this morning?” I ask.

  Her eyes flick down, away from mine, as she nods.

  Hitching a finger under her chin, I make her look at me. “You sure?”

  Pink tinges her cheeks.

  I sigh, knowing she doesn’t want to talk about it. “Are we going to classes today?”

  “We probably should.” She seems relieved with the subject change.

  The door flies open and Apollo strolls through. His eyes bounce between us.

  His interruptions are starting to get on my nerves. “There’s this thing called knocking.” I scowl at him.

  His hands go to his skinny hips. “I see you got her to sleep in her own bed for a change. But I’m gues
sing there wasn’t much sleeping going on.”

  I’m about to tell him to mind his own goddamned business when Raielle clears her throat. “Why don’t you get dressed,” she tells me with a pointed look. Apparently, she doesn’t want me to get into it with him. Then she leads a smug Apollo out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

  I stand there for a moment, just staring after her, not understanding how she can tolerate him. She tells me that he saved her life, but that doesn’t erase the fact that he took her away from me and kept us apart all summer.

  Shaking off the nasty vibes Apollo gives me, I grab my stuff and head for the shower. Standing under the hot spray, images from last night flash through my head: her soft pale skin smelling so sweet, her delicate curves moving beneath my hands, her long blonde hair splayed across the pillow, the carnal sounds she makes when she begins to lose control, and the warmth of being inside her.

  Everything about our first time was better than the hundred or so times I imagined it, that is, everything except the pain that flared in her eyes when I pushed into her. I would do anything not to hurt her that way again, and I scrub my hands over my face, still completely dumbfounded at what happened.

  I think of all the shit that’s gone down since I met her: the way she saved my family, the way she made me feel again, the many ways she tears me apart. Being with her is like going on that drop tower ride at the carnival where you slowly ascend to the top to look at the breathtaking view, and then wait in suspense for the stomach-curdling plunge back down to the bottom again.

  From the first minute I saw her across the yard that night, she woke me up from a life I was sleepwalking through. I’d detached from the world so I could survive it. But suddenly there she was, and detachment was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to be close to her. Just a year ago, I didn’t know someone like her existed in the world, and now I don’t think I could live in a world without her. She says she’s changed. She’s worried I won’t love the girl she’s become, but she hasn’t really changed. Despite everything, she’s still my ray of sunshine.