To the Fall

by Prescott Lane

  Annie suddenly breaks down, sobbing until tears and snot are running down her face, unable to catch her breath. I try to comfort her, but it’s no use. “I’m so sorry, Pierce. You have no idea. I wish I could take it all back. Everything that happened. I’m so sorry.”

  “Annie?”

  She looks up at me. “I liked you. Really liked you, but you were so shy and going through all that stuff with your family. I thought if I loosened you up, then you’d finally make a move. Everything that happened is my fault,” she whispers. “I’m the reason.”

  “We’ve been over this. I drank. I ate the shit. I don’t know what any of this has to do with anything now.”

  “Please, Pierce,” she begs. “The guilt is killing me.”

  “You have to stop this.”

  “There’s something about that night. Something else you need to know.”

  “I know enough. I don’t want to know anymore. Why bring this up now? After all this time?”

  “Because I see you have a real shot to be happy with Sutton, but only if we deal with what happened.”

  “We? You’re fucking leaving,” I bark.

  “Pierce, please,” she cries, reaching for my hand.

  “Apparently, you just needed to unload on me one last time,” I say and pull away from her. “Dump all this shit in my lap, then bolt.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s not true!”

  “It is true. And I shouldn’t be surprised. You left me alone that night! Remember that, Annie? Well, this time you can stay gone!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I watched as they lowered my mom’s casket into the ground. Most everyone had already left, not that there were too many people there to begin with. But what burned me up was that my father didn’t show. He paid to put my mother in the ground, but couldn’t bother to stand and watch it. I hated him.

  This was his fault. She wrapped her car around a pole. He wasn’t driving the car, but it didn’t matter. He used her. He left her. Left her with a pain that even time couldn’t fix. I hated him for it.

  Annie slipped her hand into mine, nodding toward the road, my dad pulling up. I was supposed to go live with him now. Live with his wife, in a house that my mother always wanted to be hers, while my mom was in the cold, dark ground.

  “Even though we won’t be neighbors anymore, I’ll come over all the time, and you can come to my house,” Annie said. “You’ll be alright.”

  “I’ve never even met Vicki except for that one night,” I said.

  “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Annie said. “They don’t have kids of their own. Maybe she’ll be excited to have a kid in the house.”

  “Maybe she’ll hate me because of my mom.”

  Annie grabbed my hand, forcing my eyes to hers. “We can go right now. Run away. Never come back.”

  “You’d do that?” I asked.

  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” she said, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly, both of us in tears.

  Then I felt his cold hand land on my shoulder. “Son.”

  I squeezed Annie tighter. “Just say the word,” she whispered.

  “Can Annie come with us?” I asked, without looking at my dad.

  *

  Their house looked like it could hold ten of me and mom’s house. Gray stone exterior, gated, and not one bit of me wanted to go inside. My dad opened the front door, and Annie went in next, leaving me to follow. “All your stuff’s here already,” my dad said. “Picked it up earlier.”

  My mom didn’t own that house. We just rented it, so the owner was anxious to get another tenant in. You’d think after living there close to ten years that they’d be a little nicer.

  We stepped through the foyer into the living area. People say there’s a difference between new money and old money. Well, this place screamed new money. Tacky animal print, gold accents, bright patterned wallpaper. My mom didn’t have much, but she did have taste. Even on her two dimes, our place looked classier than this.

  Vicki appeared by my dad’s side, and he wrapped his arm around her. Her bleached hair was still the same, and her animal print dress matched the throw blanket. She was all smiles, but the way her eyes were gliding over me made me squirm. “You’ve grown up. Both of you.”

  Annie slipped her hand into mine, giving it a squeeze. I looked down at her, seeing faith in her eyes. Faith that I could do this. Faith that things would be alright. I needed to believe, too.

  “You must be hungry,” Vicki said. “I’ve heard that about teenage boys. If they’re not sleeping, then they’re eating.”

  I didn’t even answer her. Annie looked up at me, silently asking if I was hungry. I just shook my head, unsure if I’d ever feel anything again.

  Vicki gave my dad an annoyed look. “Pierce,” he said, “we are all sad about what happened to your mother. She was . . .”

  Annie must’ve felt the anger in my body because she put her hand on my chest. “Pierce’s room? I’m sure he’d like to see his room.”

  “Yes,” Vicki said. “I thought the room over the garage would be best. It’s big and separate from the rest of the house. I thought it was important you have some privacy.”

  We headed that way, and I mumbled to Annie, “She read that in her teenage boy manual, too.”

  We followed them up a flight of stairs to a single door. My dad walked inside. Vicki was telling the truth. The room was big, set up with a bed, desk, chair, and dresser. “We’ll get a TV and game system in here soon,” my dad said.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, looking around. “You said you got my stuff?” He pointed to a corner of the room, a couple boxes stacked there. I walked over, seeing Annie’s handwriting on the boxes. She’d labeled them all for me. “These are just the ones from my room.”

  “We couldn’t bring everything,” he said, giving a side glance to Vicki. What he meant was, Vicki wouldn’t let him bring my mother’s stuff into her house. “We’ll just let you get settled,” he said, placing his hand on Vicki’s back and leading her out.

  “Don’t worry,” Annie said. “I’ll get your mom’s stuff.”

  But she didn’t. It was all gone when she got back to my old house. I never knew if it was the landlord who threw it out, or if that was on my dad’s and Vicki’s heads. Either way, every piece I had of my mother was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I stare at Annie’s desk for God knows how long. Long enough that the past came raging back in. I can’t imagine her not being here in the morning, having seen her almost every day for decades. The way it went down is just fucked up. My chest hurts, my head is killing me, and ghosts are swirling around in my soul. I don’t usually have a short fuse, but I’ll do anything to avoid this rush of memories, apparently even attack my best friend.

  Control.

  That’s what I need. I lean over and put my head in my hands. I feel her softness come up behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist, surprising me. I didn’t expect to see her until later.

  “Annie called to say goodbye,” Sutton whispers. “You alright?” A short, quick nod of my head is the only lie I can manage. Sutton gives my back a little rub. “Weird she’s going up to see Tawny. I know they’re close, but . . .” She keeps rambling on about Annie and Tawny, and the only rhythm beating in my head is control, control, control.

  Turning quickly, I capture her in my arms, lightly trailing kisses from one side of her neck to the other. “Stay with me tonight?”

  “Did you get time off for good behavior or something?” Sutton asks.

  I slide my hand under her shirt onto the bare skin of her back. “No, but the rules have been amended.”

  She pushes back slightly. “But my rules haven’t.”

  That is like a bullet to the gut, and my shoulders and dick both hang in disappointment. I think I’m actually pouting, but am not about to give up, explaining the new rules to her, but she doesn’t seem swayed. I pull out a bag fr
om behind my desk. “Stay with me?”

  She peeks into the bag and starts laughing. “You bought me pajamas.”

  “Yeah, but these stay at my place.” I nuzzle her nose. “Stay tonight?”

  “We are just getting to know each other.”

  “I know you.” I start shuffling some papers on my desk and pick up an envelope with the aquarium charity event tickets inside.

  She slides her body between me and my desk. “I’ve got some good news.”

  I thought I had good news, and she just shot me down. “What’s that?”

  “One of the luxury suites will be done early,” she says, looking up at me. “I booked it under your name. Figure we should be the first ones to try it out.”

  After I pick my jaw up off the floor, my mind starts racing. She’s confident we’ll be having sex and not just vanilla sex. She wants to get into some kinky stuff with me. I remember her saying she could only use that room with someone she loved and trusted. She’s planning on loving and trusting me by then?

  My lips crash into hers. I hoist her on my desk and force her skirt up, yanking her panties down hard. I give her hair a tug, forcing her head back and cup her pussy in my hand. The heat is incredible. Her eyes lock on mine, the war inside her waging.

  “Pierce,” she whispers.

  I know it’s meant for me to stop, but damn if it doesn’t come out needy. “Don’t make me stop,” I beg. “I want to make you tremble under my fingertips. To feel your body shake, to hear you call out my name. Don’t make me stop.”

  “We need to,” she says, adjusting her skirt back and forcing my hand away.

  I pull at my hair and turn away from her. “You really need this, don’t you?” she asks.

  Something about the way she says need really gets to me. I turn back to her. I’ve always thought about sex as a need—a basic human need—at the very least, a basic male need – but she means something different. She believes sex is an emotional need for me, but there is nothing emotional about the way I fuck. My defenses shoot up. “I’m not some sex-starved addict,” I bark.

  “I know that,” she says. Her arms cross in front of her chest, so I cross mine. It’s petty and childish, but I do it anyway. She busts out laughing, and my walls crack. I hate being a moody bastard. Nothing worse than a moody man.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Today’s just been totally fucked up.”

  She slides her arms around my waist. “Which is why we should go to your place, eat dinner in the bathtub, and snuggle in bed until tomorrow morning.”

  “Dinner in the tub?”

  “Can’t eat in the shower, the food gets wet.”

  I laugh. “Do I have to keep my hands to myself?”

  “Your hands will be busy feeding me, and my hands will be busy feeding you.”

  “But I get to see you naked.”

  She raises her eyebrows and smiles. It’s a small victory, but it seems everything is going to be baby steps with this woman.

  *

  You haven’t lived until you’ve had dinner in the bathtub. Why haven’t I thought of this before? We fed each other out of Chinese cartons, talked, and laughed like we’re kids. Sure, I’m a little disappointed she isn’t clawing my back from an orgasm, but this is nice, too. Better than nice, especially because the bubbles are finally starting to dissipate. She’d slipped into the tub without me seeing a single thing. I, however, had proudly stripped down, giving her a good look at what she’d be missing.

  I find her foot under the water and start to rub. She leans her head back, a small smile on her lips, her hair on top of her head in a lopsided ponytail. I spent a lot of time designing this house, fixtures, flooring, lighting. In the end, the extra wide, copper claw foot tub and rainfall showerhead weren’t what the place needed. Perhaps the only thing it really needed was Sutton.

  “You’re beautiful,” I say so softly I barely recognize my own voice.

  Her smile broadens. “So are you.”

  A little chuckle comes out, and I wonder if naked in the bathtub is a good time to ask her to go to this charity thing with me. Am I nervous? That isn’t like me. I don’t get nervous around women. They do what I want, or they can go their own way, but that tactic isn’t working with Sutton.

  “I have this charity thing to go to next weekend at the aquarium. I’m hoping you’ll go with me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Air fills my lungs. I know it would’ve hurt if she said no. This is bad – very, very bad. I don’t do hurt. I release her foot and get up, quickly wiping myself off.

  “Pierce,” Sutton says quietly and reaches for my hand, and I kneel by the tub. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal about the hotel.”

  “It’s a fair offer.”

  “It’s better than that,” she says. “And I really appreciate it, but I can’t accept. I want financial independence.”

  “Stubborn,” I say.

  “Would you let me own part of your hotel?” she asks.

  “I don’t need the money.”

  “If you did? Would you take this deal if I was offering it?”

  I know I wouldn’t. Too damn prideful. “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to keep doing one project at a time, starting with the rooftop. I’ve got enough saved to get that started, and I think you’re right that it will bring in huge revenue.”

  “Why won’t you let me help you? I don’t like this,” I say.

  She smiles. “I know you don’t. You’re practically pouting.” She kisses my mouth softly over and over again until I can’t help but grin. “There is one thing you can help me with.”

  “Anything.”

  “You’ve done this and know who to work with, and you’ve got great instincts. I was thinking you could be a consultant.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t want to be your employee.”

  “Good,” she laughs. “Because I can’t pay you.”

  I pull her over the tub slightly and hug her. Unfortunately, the side of the tub prevents her breasts from being seen or felt. “We’re going to be great together.” Here I go getting all poetic again. Damn that English Lit class they make you take in college. “We are great together.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Is that how you think of us? Together?”

  “I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else. In business or in the bathtub.”

  “I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, either.”

  I swallow hard. “I’m in business with a lot of people.”

  “That’s not funny. I know you had open relationships before. That won’t fly with me,” she says, giving me a look. “There’s something you should never forget.”

  I’m almost scared to ask. “What’s that?”

  “I’ve got options. You aren’t the only man in the world. You should always remember that.” Her fingers softly stroke my face. “But it’s you I’m choosing.”

  “I wouldn’t even think about that kind of relationship with you.” I kiss her gently on the lips then quickly say, “I think we’ve got business to discuss.” I stand up and head into my bedroom, needing a minute.

  I grab a t-shirt and shorts, realizing I’ve just promised monogamy to a woman. I’ve never done that. Still, my heartbeat is steady, my breathing fine. I’m waiting for the freak out any second, but nothing is happening. I really am okay with all this. I shut off the light and lock the bedroom door.

  “Holding me captive?” she asks.

  I let loose a half-hearted chuckle. “Old habit.”

  Then I turn around, finding Sutton wearing the red pajamas I bought for her, her hair still on top of her head. “I knew you’d look good in red,” I say.

  I watch her take a deep breath. She’s nervous. She hasn’t slept with a man since that horrible night with her ex, and he is the only man she’s ever shared a bed with. And she’s about to get into my bed, a bed that a lot of women have been in. I hope she’s not thinking about that. I’m no
t going to ask—don’t need to put that thought in her head if it’s not already there. Maybe I should replace the bed? Or would that just draw her attention to it? Perhaps I’ll just get a new mattress.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure. I just walked out, and you were standing there. I got this feeling,” she says.

  I step closer to her. I know what it is. “Like your life is about to change.” She nods slowly. “You’re definitely changing mine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Every time I walk into the office over the next week, my heart sinks, and my pulse goes through the roof. I miss Annie being here and hate the way we left things between us. I’ve tried calling her numerous times, but she never answers.

  To make matters worse, I’ve been unable to find a replacement that has an IQ above that of a moth. On the upside, Sutton is here a lot more, or I’m at her hotel. We are wasting no time getting started on the rooftop re-model, and she seems to understand Annie’s method of organization. It must be a chick thing, because every time I can’t find something, Sutton is able to put her finger on it in less than a minute. We are a good team.

  But by late evening, we turn off the business thing, and we just become Sutton and Pierce, dare I say it—the couple. We go to dinner, movies, normal couple things. Hell, we’ve even binge-watched television shows. Who am I?

  She spends most nights at my place, and her things are hanging next to mine in the closet. Her toothbrush sits right beside mine. When other women were at my place, they lived out of a bag. If they left it, it got tossed. I wasn’t falling for that old trick where girls leave stuff at your place, and then it just starts to multiply. Nope, it went straight in the garbage can, but not with Sutton. I buy her anything I anticipate she might need and just have it there waiting for her—toothbrush, girlie soaps and lotions, clothes, shoes. Anything I notice she eats and likes, I have in the refrigerator the next day, and I am rewarded each time with that beautiful smile of hers and a thank you kiss. It’s worth it.

  I slide the garment bag off my tux. Tonight is the aquarium charity event. Sutton and I will be stepping out as a couple for the first time at a big public event. I reach for my phone to tell her I’ll be there within a half hour to pick her up.