by Livia Grant
“This is from the night of the talent show, isn’t it?”
It was her absolute favorite picture of the two of them together. The small, candid photo he held was among her prized possessions. She could only nod a reply.
Their eyes met. “It feels like a lifetime ago,” he answered solemnly.
She managed to choke out an emotional reply. “It was a lifetime ago.”
Their words stalled, but his eyes pinned her with a heated gaze. Another step closer. He was close enough to touch her now so she was surprised when he turned his attention back to her nightstand.
“What have you eaten in the last two days?” When she failed to answer, he turned towards her and startled her with a sharp command, “Samantha, answer me.”
She stumbled over her words. “Wasn’t hungry. I had some crackers and… other stuff.”
He picked up a few of the dishes to examine them, easily seeing the crusty film covering the lot of it, the result of her neglect. He started picking up dish after bowl.
“Wait a minute. What are you doing?”
He ignored her and started walking towards the bedroom door, his arms full of dirty dishes.
She called after him. “Jonah!”
He’d only been out of the room for a few seconds, but he startled her when he leaned back in, the sunshine-inducing smile back on his adorable face as he gloated. “I told you Jonah wasn’t dead.”
She groaned at being caught in his trap. The second he was back out the door, she threw back the covers and bolted to her feet. She swayed a bit, light headed from standing too quickly.
She rushed towards the bathroom, grateful the second she was safely inside and could turn the lock that would keep her separated from the dangerous man in the next room.
Just the exertion of running to bathroom left her out of breath. She had barely eaten in the last two days. She hadn’t even been drinking water. As she approached the full-length mirror, she didn’t recognize herself. She allowed the thin blanket she’d carried with her to fall to the floor, exposing her too-thin body to her scrutiny. As usual, her gaze was drawn to her biggest and most shameful secret of all.
The tug of a familiar desire licked at her subconscious; calling to her like a siren.
Life was out of control again. Completely and wholly out of control. She needed Jonah to leave. He didn’t deserve to know how far she’d gone in her failed attempt to maintain control in her life after he’d left her years before with no explanation.
He’d done this to her. Broke her. Crushed her.
He should be happy. He’d named his band Crushing Stones for a reason. Only now that he’d picked one of them off, all he felt was regret. As sure as he hated hurting Sam, he was equally sure he’d never feel the same regret had it been her father or uncle who’d been crushed.
Something wasn’t right. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. Jonah took a few minutes to dump the leftover food from Sam’s room into the garbage bin, scraping off the plates and bowls and then doing something he hadn’t done in years—washed the dishes.
The more time he spent in Samantha’s kitchen, the clearer his unease became.
Why is she living in poverty?
The apartment was practically barren. Exactly enough furniture and food to sustain life, with no frills whatsoever. Literally every dish Sam owned was presently dirty as he began cleaning up. The refrigerator was near empty with only half-used condiments, a couple yogurts and a few cups of milk left in the carton.
The cupboards weren’t much better. Ramen noodles, peanut butter, crackers, a few cans of soup. He hit the jackpot on the next cabinet coming out with a relatively new box of Lucky Charms.
Memories he’d repressed roared back with a vengeance. The cereal had been his favorite, something his mom could usually afford. How many times had he and Sam eaten the colorful, sugary cereal as their after school snack together? He’d forgotten the simple pleasure having graduated to five-star restaurants and his personal chef’s cuisine.
He grabbed two of the bowls he’d just rinsed out and poured a healthy portion for each of them. The remaining milk was just the right amount.
By the time he returned to the bedroom with their gourmet dinner, the bed was empty. There was no way she’d left the small apartment without him knowing which told him she had to be behind the closed door which he assumed was the bathroom.
After he set the bowls down, he took a minute to look around the room. Like the living room and kitchen, this room too was devoid of what he assumed would be the normal trappings of a college grad student. While the piles of books, papers and her computer on the desk seemed right, the open closet wasn’t even half full. A quick check of the sole dresser found the bottom drawers empty.
An uneasy feeling settled in his gut. Samantha’s family was part of the upper echelon of the Plano, Texas elite. Her father had been mayor for over fifteen years now. They were founding members of the exclusive country club in the upscale suburb of Dallas. And most importantly to their history, were intimately tied to the state legal system, serving as district judges while running the premier legal firm in the entire Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex.
Samantha should be living in the lap of luxury.
He was halfway to the bathroom door to see what was keeping her when he heard a muffled cell phone ring. His own cell was in his back pocket. It must be Sam’s.
Jonah sifted through the messed bed, coming out with her smartphone just as it stopped ringing. Instant hatred consumed him at the picture of her father filling her screen. He hated the anxiety he felt just seeing the photo of a man that was likely hundreds of miles away. As successful as Jonah had become in the music industry, it bothered him that he could be mentally knocked back to a vulnerable teenager in the space of a few minutes.
Reality was creeping in. What the fuck was he doing here? There was no way this visit could end happily. He’d come out of guilt for what he’d done to Sam. Out of curiosity, looking for answers to questions he should have long ago stopped asking. He should leave, before he got pulled in further, yet his feet refused to budge as he let the sliver of magic he felt when in Samantha’s presence hold him hostage.
He listened for movement, but he only heard silence from beyond the bathroom door. Sam’s phone, still in his hand, started to ring, once again displaying the smug picture of his nemesis. His finger hovered over the answer button, tempted to answer and then… what? There were no words that could fix the past between the men.
He needed to leave. He would collect her, make sure she ate something and then he’d leave. Their worlds were caverns apart. She’d do better to start taking Daddy’s advice and hook up with a country club elite and become the Texas royalty she was destined to be.
His feet finally moved, taking him to the bathroom door. “Samantha! Your father has called twice. You need to come out and deal with this.” Jonah pounded on the hollow door when she didn’t answer. “Come on! It’s taking all my self-control to keep from answering and telling him to fuck off.”
Nothing.
He tried the knob. She’d locked the door.
“Samantha! This isn’t funny. Open the door.”
How long had it been since he’d cared about another person? Really cared. As he stood outside that shitty door, pounding to no answer, a foreign kind of anxiety took hold. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but something was wrong.
“Sam, open the door right now or I’m going to kick it in.” He silently counted to five. “Fuck.”
Jonah stepped back and in one fluid motion, connected his boot near the lock of the door, shattering the pressed wood and creating a boot-sized hole through the thin door.
He stooped down to peek through the hole. “Dammit! Sam!”
His vision was obscured, but he could see Sam’s bare legs as she was sprawled on the tiled floor. He jammed his right hand through the hole to unlock the door from the inside and rushed through the door.
Christ. She was naked. Her body laid
at an odd angle as if she’d collapsed. Her matted hair obscured her face, but nothing could hide the bruises on her arms, the sharp hip bones protruding from her too thin body and… what the fuck?
Scars. Dozens, no, hundreds, of neatly spaced scars. On her arms, wrists, inner thighs, stomach.
“Oh Sami, what have you done to yourself, baby?”
Jonah kneeled and with dread felt her wrist for a pulse. He was grateful to feel her thumping heartbeat. As he continued to assess what was wrong with her, he scanned her body again. It broke his heart to find streaks of dried blood and what he assumed was his spent cum on her inner thighs.
Two days. She hadn’t showered?
Two days. He could see how chapped her lips were. She hadn’t drank?
Two days. All that food had gone uneaten. She was starving herself.
With trembling hands, he pushed her hair away from her face. She was so pale. Goosebumps were covering her flesh from the chill in the room. Jonah moved into action, standing and rushing to the bathtub to turn on the faucet, thankful for a steady stream of hot water. He rushed to pull his T-shirt and jeans off, stripping completely before kneeling next to Sam and scooping her into his arms.
Her small groan encouraged him. He pulled the curtain and stepped into the hot stream of water, holding Samantha close, trying to share his body heat with her. The water was awakening her and she began to struggle in his arms, disoriented.
“Shhh, Sami. Let me take care of you, baby.”
Jonah crouched down, sitting at the end of the tub and cradling Samantha on his lap as the hot stream of water fell on them like a waterfall from above. He held her until he felt her shivering stop. He held her until she curled against him, self-consciously wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling closer. He held her until the water began to cool and he knew he needed to get her washed up before they ran out of hot water.
He reached for the bar of soap on the built-in shelf of the tub and took the time to run his soapy hands across every inch of her body he could touch, trying his best to wash away the evidence of their disastrous reunion two nights before.
It was when he was washing her face that she finally opened her caramel brown eyes, pinning him with the most heart-wrenching look of longing he’d ever seen in their depths. In that moment, he knew he was projecting the exact same sentiment back to her. As fucked up as the situation was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was exactly where he was supposed to be… doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing.
He finally broke the silence when the water was getting downright cold. “We should get out.”
It was a struggle to reach the faucet. Jonah finally had to leave Sam to grab several towels from the cabinet above the toilet. He dried her first, trying his best to keep her from getting chilled again. Despite his efforts, her teeth began to chatter.
“You keep it too cold in here. Where is the thermostat?” he inquired.
“Living room. Don’t like big bills.”
There it was again. Why was she acting so frugal?
“Stay here.” He left only long enough to bump the heat up to seventy-five degrees before returning to finish drying her off. Sam tried to pull away from him when he moved to dry her legs. She struggled to hide herself from him.
He grabbed both her wrists, stopping her struggles easily and pinning her with a glare. “When did you do this to yourself?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Why? Why the fuck did you do this to yourself?”
He could see defiance sparking in her eyes. She wanted to argue with him and he welcomed it. He’d rather see the fire in her eyes than the defeat he’d put there before.
When she failed to answer him, he did the only thing that made sense to him in that moment. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her inner right thigh where the worst of the scaring stood out. Jonah placed tiny kisses as he inched his way across her damaged body, wishing he had the power to erase the scars as well as the pain that had put them there.
“Jonah.” Her voice was but a whisper.
When he’d finished, he kneeled up so she could see his eyes. He wrapped his fingers through her wet hair and held her head stationary to ensure she would not look away as he leaned in. They were so close he could feel her ragged breath on his cheek.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You will never again hurt yourself. Is that understood?”
Her eyes widened and he could see her pupils dilate at his command. She’d yet to reply.
“I mean it, Sam. Never again. Say it,” he pressed.
It took a few seconds, but she finally acquiesced with a quiet, “Never again.”
Satisfied, he scooped her still damp body into his arms and stood, carrying her into the bedroom and placing her gently in the middle of the bed. He propped several pillows behind her back and sensing she was self-conscious from her nakedness, pulled the remaining sheet up to cover her.
He reached for the tall glass of water he’d left on the nightstand and pressed it into her hand. “Drink this. All of it.”
She didn’t argue. It took awhile, but she eventually did drink it all.
He then grabbed one bowl of Lucky Charms and moved to begin feeding her. This, Sam resisted.
“I’m not feeling great. I don’t think I should eat.”
“You don’t feel good because you haven’t eaten. Open.”
He wasn’t going to stop shoveling bites into her mouth until she’d finished the entire bowl. They ate in an amicable silence. By the time their bowls were empty, Samantha’s eyes were drooping. He could tell she was fighting to stay awake.
Jonah stood and leaned in to help Sam get more comfortable. “You need to get some rest.”
The strength of her death grip on his arm surprised him. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”
“You’re exhausted, baby. You can barely keep your eyes open.”
Sami opened her mouth several times, but couldn’t seem to say what she wanted to. She finally begged him, “Will you be here when I wake up?”
He detected the tears in her eyes. She was fighting not to cry. “Do you want me to be?”
“Yes. Please.” The vulnerability in her eyes made it impossible to deny her.
“Then I’ll be here.”
Jonah crossed to the closet, happy to find a folded blanket on the upper shelf. He brought it back to her bed, pulling back the sheet and sliding into the bed next to her. He spread the blanket over them and then laid on his back, pulling Samantha into his arms so she could use his chest as her pillow.
She released a sigh as she snuggled closer, throwing her left leg over his body as if to trap him. He didn’t say it out loud, but it would have taken wild horses to drag him away from her. She was such an innocent and he was so wrong for her in so many ways. But tonight, he needed to watch over her. Needed to ensure she got her rest and took the time to eat and drink. Tonight he’d play the role of her protector.
Tomorrow, he’d go back to his glamorous life and try to pretend he hadn’t just left half his heart in D.C.
Chapter 8
Reality was better than any dream she’d had in the last seven years. Samantha had stirred awake fifteen minutes before, feeling overheated. It took a few seconds to realize the warmth was courtesy of the body heat of her oldest friend whose muscular chest was presently serving as her human pillow.
The sun had gone down leaving her bedroom in dark shadows. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him. Samantha’s body craved his proximity as she clung to him like two locked puzzle pieces.
Jonah was there. In her apartment. In her bed. His rhythmic breaths in slumber comforted her. His mere presence calmed her in a way she’d forgotten was possible. He’d been gone so long she’d begun to think she’d imagined how close their friendship had once been. He had been her safe haven.
She wished she could go to sleep in his arms like this every night for the rest of her life. There’d bee
n a time when she was sure that was her future, but that time had long ago past.
Lost in her memories, she missed Jonah’s waking until his arm hugged her tighter. She clung to him, grateful he’d stayed with her like he’d promised.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly into the quiet room.
“For what?”
“Staying.”
“I said I would.”
She didn’t have to say the words on her tongue. They both knew he’d promised to stay before and hadn’t done it.
She didn’t know for sure how much time they had before Jonah disappeared again so she wanted to say the most important things first.
“I’m so sorry about your mom.”
She felt him tense up at the mention of his late parent. “Thanks.”
“I wish I’d known she’d been sick. I would have liked to visit her.”
Enough time passed she thought he was going to ignore her comment. “She would have liked that. She loved you.”
Sam heard the emotion in his voice and it brought tears to her eyes. “I loved her too.”
“She told me, you know.”
“What’s that?”
“That you used to visit her after I left.”
“She was the only one who understood. She missed you as much as I did. I hated to leave for college. When I came home for Christmas my freshman year, she’d moved away.”
“Yeah, that fall I convinced her to move back to the east coast to be closer to where I was playing.”
“I’m glad. I’m sure it made her happy.”
Several quiet minutes passed as she twirled her finger across his hard chest, playing with the patch of masculine, dark hair that reminded her he was no longer the wiry eighteen year old he’d been before he’d left her. He was all man.
He broke the silence. “I can’t believe I slept that good. I was out.”
“Me too. I’d have thought you would sleep great with all of the success you’re enjoying. Your music… well, it was always good, but… you deserve all of the fame and fortune you’ve achieved. I know how hard you’ve worked for it since you were a kid.”
