by K J Bell
“You’re a fucking asshole, Harrison!”
“I’m sorry, Tori. You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you out there.”
She shakes her head, and he touches her face. She slaps his hand away.
“He’s going to break your heart.”
Rage is just about to bubble over when Jesse grabs Harrison’s arm. “Shut the fuck up, Harrison,” Jesse tells him. Jesse knows Harrison can bring my world crashing down right now if he chooses to open his big mouth.
“Fuck you, Jesse!” Harrison yells and then grips Tori’s arm. She looks at her arm and then up at him. “He’ll cheat on you, Tori, and he’ll never love you.”
That’s all it takes for me to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Harrison’s eyebrows shoot up right before my fist lands squarely on his loud fucking mouth. My knuckles scream on impact, and adrenaline leads me into a blind fury.
He stumbles back and then lunges at me, tackling me to the ground. Sand flies everywhere – the granules scratching my eyes and crunching between my teeth.
Harrison lands a few punches to my side before I get the upper hand, flip him over, and climb on top of him. Harrison tries to cover his face, but I immediately began landing blow after blow, ignoring the blood spatter and the voices yelling at me to stop.
Finally, I hear one voice, and the red haze in front of my eyes changes to Tori’s face. She’s terrified.
She’s yelling, “Brady, stop!”
I get off Harrison and stand up, fisting my hands into my hair and holding them above my head to catch my breath.
A few guys help Harrison up, and he’s glaring at me like he didn’t deserve the ass kicking I just gave him. “What the fuck, Brady? You’re insane.”
I take a step his way and then stop. “Stay the hell away from Tori. You’re only using her to get back at me anyway.”
His eyes narrow, and he shoots me a smug grin. One that makes me want to pound him again. “How’s it feel?”
I turn my head toward Tori.
Her surprised eyes glare at me and then at him. “What is he talking about, Harrison? Is that true?”
Harrison holds his nose and pinches off a stream of blood. He hangs his head, guilty as hell, and then looks up at Tori. “It was at first, but after we went out, I started to like you.”
Stepping close, I grab a handful of his T-shirt and push him into the sand. “You fucking psycho. You could have killed her!”
He scrambles to his feet and starts to come at me again, but Jesse stops him.
Harrison shouts at me, “I never intended for her to get hurt. You’re the murderer here, Brady, not me.”
“What?” Tori yells instantly. As she spins to face me, her eyes are wide, begging me to tell her. “What is he talking about, Brady?”
I turn away from her, ready to kill Harrison.
“What do mean, Harrison?” I hear her ask.
“You heard me, Tori. Why don’t you ask Brady here to tell you the truth about what happened to Vanessa?” Harrison’s words are laced with satisfaction. He’s been dying to tell someone.
She digs her nails into my arm, urging me to turn around. I do, but I refuse to look at her.
“What is he talking about, Brady?”
Harrison is gloating, the fucking asshole. I ignore Tori’s imploring gaze and nod his way. “You just breached the contract.” I keep my voice stern, never taking my eyes off him. I want to look at Tori, but I don’t. I’m afraid of what she's thinking. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out. The sudden fear of her seeing me for who I am eats away at my gut like a rotting apple. Getting the fuck out of here is the only way to escape the putrid feeling.
Harrison spits blood and then looks at me. “I don’t give a shit about the contract. I care about you killing Vanessa and trying to pretend it never happened. Take your money and shove it up your ass.”
Chapter 24
Tori
I can’t breathe. My feet cemented in the sand prevent me from moving. Brady killed Vanessa? Suddenly little things Brady said to me make sense. When I asked him to call and talk to her, and he said he couldn’t. This explains why he thinks about her every day, and of course the tattoo on his back I never asked him to explain. My heart breaks for Brady as I remember that she was his best friend. He’s not pretending it never happened, though. Harrison is wrong about that. Brady is ruthlessly punishing himself every day of his life for it.
Brady kicks sand and turns from the crowd. He marches towards his truck without looking back, fists clenched to his side. As I watch him walk away, I realize if he leaves now, I’ll never get him back.
“Brady!” I pull my feet out of the sand and chase after him.
He doesn’t answer me, and instead climbs into his truck and slams the door. Harrison calls after me, but I don’t turn around. Jesse’s voice floats through the air, telling him to let me go.
Through the passenger-side window, I notice Brady has his arms folded over the steering wheel, and he’s buried his head in them. Pulling on the door handle, I expect to find it locked, but it opens. I slide into the truck and tears sting my eyes, ready to spill at any second. The painful silence makes me want to lunge across the seat and comfort him and tell him it will be okay, but he’s not ready to hear it. Knowing Brady, he’s convinced it will never get better or be okay.
A huff of air leaves him, and he won’t look at me. Though he won’t admit it, I know he’s afraid and confused. He thinks I’m going to look at him differently now. I’m not. I love him, and I’ll push through this with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Brady?” I coax softly.
“I told you she was gone and…” His voice breaks, and he shakes his head.
I run my hand tenderly over the hair just above his ear. “You didn’t say she was dead.”
“Fuck, Tori,” he growls in his throat, finally looking over at me. The fierceness in his stare scares me. A tear slides down his cheek. My heart splits in two, witnessing his raw emotion. “It’s not something I talk about.”
“Tell me what happened, please, Brady,” I encourage him, treading carefully. He’s teetering on the edge, between anger and pain.
“I fucked up, that’s what happened.”
My hand gently slides up his arm, resting on his shoulder. He puts his hand on top of mine. “Brady, please.”
He shakes his head. “I destroy everything good around me, Tori. I told you before.”
Silence lingers for ages. His stare out of the windshield is nerve-wracking because it is as though I’m not even in the truck. I don’t make a move to leave, and I don’t speak. The choice for him to explain has to be his.
After an eternity, he moves and looks over at me. The suffering and guilt clouding his eyes is more than I can take. I drop my gaze to my lap. “I was taking Vanessa home after we had dinner out. We were on my bike. A bird came out of nowhere.” He slams his hands into the steering wheel. “A fucking bird! I tried to turn the handlebars, but they stuck. I lost control and laid the bike down. Vanessa slid across the concrete and slammed into a pole. She broke her neck and died instantly. I fucking killed her. I wish every day that it had been me. But it wasn’t, and hers is the first face I wake up to and the last one I see before I sleep.”
All the air leaves my lungs. Brady falls onto my lap, and his arms slip under my thighs. His breaths are shallow and shaky. I run my fingers through his hair, but I have no idea how to console him.
“The worst part, Tori,” he continues, “is that it was the night we broke up. The night she told me she knew I was in love with you.”
I shake my head, his words too painful. “It wasn’t your fault, Brady.”
Brady sits back up and looks right into my eyes. I can see by his expression he disagrees. He believes he is responsible, and he always will. “It was, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It was an accident. There was nothing you could have done.” I try emphatically to convince him.
“I sti
ll killed her.” His eyes return to the glass in front of him as if it’s a mirror to his soul. The hurt on his face is excruciating to watch.
Doing the only thing I can think of to help him forget, I peel out of my wetsuit and slide across the seat, straddling him. His breath catches in his throat. “What are you doing, Tori?”
I whisper into his neck, “Taking it away, Brady.”
Before he stops me, I slide my hands into the waistband of his shorts and begin pulling them down. He lifts from the seat, helping me, and I push his shorts down to his knees.
I pull my bathing suit bottoms to the side, and position myself above him. He’s poised at my entrance, ready for me. Brady’s hands slide up my back and grip my shoulders. Without hesitating, he lifts his hips and pushes down on my shoulders, slipping into me.
Brady exhales the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. And the saddest.
I wince a little from the intrusion, but an instant later it’s gone, replaced with a wonderful fullness, filling me completely. I begin slowly moving my hips. He quickly increases his thrusts, his movements frantic and hurried. His warm breath is on my neck as he groans repeatedly. He needs this, and I do too. He’s broken, and I may not be able to put him back together, but I can make him forget…if only for a little while.
His hands roam over my body, my thighs, my back, and everywhere in between. They move to my back and find the tie of my bathing suit top. With a quick pull, the bow is free, and his hand slides around to the front, covering my bare breasts. He gently pinches my nipple between his fingers, and I exhale a moan. And then he leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue. His lips move, kissing their way up my neck.
Sand and sweat mix between us, rubbing my bare skin raw, but I ignore it. I fist my fingers into the back of his hair, and move my hips quicker, growing close to ecstasy. He continues kissing my neck, without looking at me; so different from the first time, when he couldn’t take his eyes off me. The truck squeaks from the motion, and the windows are fogged so thickly I can no longer see out. We both breathe fast and hard.
“Brady, Brady… Oh, God…” I shout his name, take a deep breath, and crumble on top of him, my entire body shaking wildly. I look over Brady’s shoulder to the night sky. The sound of voices in the distance reminds me that we could be caught at any minute. His fingers dig into my waist, and he thrusts into me, until I feel him shudder beneath me.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, moving roughly into me one last time. “How can something feel so fucking right and also, so incredibly wrong? I’m sorry.”
Desperation is pouring out of him. My heart wrenches as realization of what he’s doing hits me. He isn’t showing me he loves me. He’s saying goodbye. I fight back a sob. Panic suddenly shoots through me at the thought of losing him.
His forehead rests on my chest, and warm breath tickles my skin. “I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks, and the familiar sting in my eyes returns.
Holding his face gently between my hands, I say, “Brady, don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. What happened with Vanessa was a horrible accident.”
The look on his face tells me he’ll never believe that. He reaches behind me, and ties the strings of my bathing suit top back together. I slide off him and sit back in the passenger seat, wanting to freak out, but I don’t. I also don’t know what else to say. How do you help someone who holds themselves accountable for a random act of fate?
Brady pulls up his shorts, and grips the wheel but doesn’t turn to look at me. I’m terrified to hear him speak. His words are going to break my heart.
“Look, you should get a ride with Liv. I need to go talk to my parents.”
Tears well up in my eyes, and pain rips through me. I have to reassure him that I’m here for him, convince him to let me in. “Brady, we need to talk about this.”
His eyes close, and he inhales. I notice the pulse of his throat when he swallows. “We will, but I need to talk to them first.”
Remembering what Harrison said about money and a contract, I’m sure that’s what he needs to talk to his parents about. “Why?”
“You don’t understand. My mother is going to be pissed. I need to sort this out. Just get a ride with Liv, and I’ll call you later, okay?”
His words say he’ll call, but the sound of his voice clearly tells me he won’t. He’s leaving.
My heart races as my earlier panic engulfs me. I can’t breathe. It's, as though something is literally crushing my lungs. When I look in his remorseful eyes, I’m positive nothing I can say will make him stay.
“Why can’t you tell me, Brady? Are you into something illegal?”
Shock descends on his expression and my heart shreds when I realize he’s hurt by my assumption. His forehead creases as if he’s in physical pain. “What? No, why would you think that?”
“Maybe because you seem to have all this money, even though you don’t have a job. And what was that with Harrison about money and a contract? What’s going on?”
I’m pleading with a wall right now. He’s not going to tell me, but it doesn’t stop me from trying to get him to open up. I’ll do anything to stay in this truck, even argue with him.
“Get a ride with Liv, please.” He’s avoiding everything I just said. Why?
Now I’m desperate. I can’t bring myself to open the door. I want nothing more than to remove the hurt from his face, and from his life. I have to try harder. “No, goddammit! No. No. Don’t do this. Talk to me, Brady.”
“Get out of the truck, Tori.” His tone is commanding, nettled by my refusal to leave, and it alarms me. This isn’t my Brady – this is the Brady I’m afraid of. The one who doesn’t think – who doesn’t care who he hurts. The Brady I love isn’t in this truck and I’m afraid he may be gone forever.
Together we can move past this. I know we can, and if he’d just listen to me, he’d believe that too. I won’t let him push me away. We’ve come so far – shared too much. “No. There’s something else going on, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
I yank on his arm. I try to pull his face toward me. He doesn’t budge, just stares coldly out of the window. He’s blocking me out. For the life of me, I have no idea how to force my way in.
“Get out of the fucking truck, Victoria!”
Brady
I knew that would do it. She hates being called Victoria. I’m a heartless bastard. I told her I would call her later, but I lied. Telling her I needed to talk to my parents was the only thing I thought she’d believe enough to get out of my truck.
My real plan is to get out of town and let her move on with her life. I should’ve never touched her, let alone fallen in love with her. I’m not good for her, and she deserves better than I can ever give her. As much as I hate to admit it, Harrison would be good to her. He would treat her right and take care of her. Of everyone in Vanessa’s family, he’s the only one with any real morals. He was the only one to ask questions about the money. The rest of his family accepted the payment my mother offered with no questions asked. How can you put a price tag on someone’s life?
I can never turn off the memory of Vanessa, lifeless in my arms, or the days that followed, when my mother heartlessly covered up the entire accident. Vanessa’s death is just one of the many secrets in my life – one of the many reasons why I have to let Tori go.
I park my truck in a parking space on the main drag in T.J. I intend to hang around the Center for a while, but tonight I’m looking for an escape. When I enter the seedy club, cigarette smoke hits me in a wave, and I cough. I take a seat at the bar, and look around, seeing only desperation. Half-naked women prance about, and plenty of men offer cash to cop a feel.
I turn to the bartender and order Jack, straight up, and toss it back and then order another. The strong liquid burns my throat, and I wait for the warmth it’s creating in my blood to make me forget. Two isn’t enough to block her out, so I order two more. Finally, I begin to sway, her face in my mind growi
ng foggier. I start to forget. When I wake up she’ll return to my thoughts with a vengeance, but for now, cloudy is what I need.
A familiar voice fills my ears. “Hey, stranger, I haven’t see you around here in a while.”
I spin on my stool, and see Monica. She’s a sweet girl with a messed-up life. I’ve tried on more than one occasion to convince her to quit working in this dump, even paid her rent a few times, but she’s determined to support herself and finish school. We’ve never hooked up because I always felt I’d be taking advantage of her if I let things go that far. Stupid, considering sex is her job. Usually I pay her just to sit and talk to me. However, tonight I don’t want to talk.
She hops up on a stool next to me and puts her hands on my knees. Her tits spill over the top of the lacy black bra she’s wearing. “So, Brady, what’s new with you?”
I slide a hundred-dollar bill in between her long, thin fingers. “I didn’t come here to talk tonight, Monica.”
Her brown eyes grow wide with a hint of displeasure, or maybe it’s betrayal. I am such a dick. I’m probably the only guy in here who comes in to visit her without expecting anything dirty from her, and now I’m doing just that. But I need to forget, so I turn away from her disenchanted gaze. This is the profession she chose.
She grabs me by the wrist and pulls me away from the bar. We stop in front of a door, and she knocks. Through my blurry vision I read the small sign above the door that says “VIP.” I let out a disgusted breath, thinking how pathetic it is that a hundred bucks makes me a VIP.
She opens the door and pulls me inside. Music similar to what you’d hear in a porn video filters in through the speakers. It makes me sick. The room is small and empty other than for a small vinyl sofa against the back wall and a metal pole in the center of the room. The stench of fresh sex is thick in the air, furthering my shame for being in here with her.
She walks me to the sofa, and gently shoves me onto it. All of a sudden, she’s a different girl than she is when I normally come here. She’s putting on a show now, covering up the girl I’ve come to know. But this girl is erotic as hell, and I relax into the sofa. She climbs on top of me, and straddles me as she begins trailing sloppy kisses from my ear to my pecs. She smells musty, the scent of other men lingering on her skin. She rises and ambles over to the pole, where she begins to dance effortlessly around it. Her movements are fluid and natural, as though she is dancing with a partner. It’s sensual as hell, and there’s a stirring in my balls. It’s wrong and I shouldn’t be here with her, but I have to forget.
