by Bec Botefuhr
“Howdareyoucomeinhereandtreatmelikethis!Ididn’tdo anythingbuttakeaphonecall.Ididn’tevendecidewhatIwantedtodo, butyou’vejustcomeinhere,rippingmeanewonebecauseyou’re jealous.”
“I’mnotjealous,”hehisses.
“Really,thenyoudon’ttrustme?Isthatit?”
“Idon’ttrusthim!”heroars.“Idon’ttrusthim.Didyouseeyourself lastnight,Sierra?DidyouseehowyoufreakedoutwhenItiedyouup?
Thatmanscarredyouforlife,howcanyouevenconsiderajobwithhim?
Howcanyouevergetthatcloseagain?”
Ilookdown,he’sright,Iknowhe’sright.AsmuchasBen’soffer wasgood,Iwouldneverwanttobethatclosetohimagain.Whydidn’tI justturnhimdowninthefirstplace?DidIwanttoseeMarcus’reaction, isthatwhyIreallydidthis?Irubthebridgeofmynoseandsighdeeply beforelookingbackupatMarcus.Admityou’rewrong,Sierra,because inthiscaseyouare.He’sonlyreactinghowyouwouldreactinthesame situation.Hecaresaboutyou,hedoesn’twanttoseeyouhurt.Don’tpush agoodthingaway.Mypridewinsoutthough,andIsnap,“Whatabout youandCandice?”
Hereelsbackandstaresatmeinconfusion.“What?”
“Isawthetexts,Marcus.”
Henarrowshiseyes,“Yousnoopedthroughmyphone.”
“MaybeIdid.”
“FuckingChrist,Sierra,Ihavenotdoneanythingtomakeyounot trustme.”
“Youwereflirtingwithher!”
Hepullshisphoneoutandthrustsitatme.“Don’ttrustme,goahead andreadeverythingI’veeversenther.Iwasbeingnice.Learnthe fuckingdifference.”
“I….”
“No,”hebarks.“Youarepullingthepastshitintothisrightnow.
YouusedBenbecauseyouwereangry,didn’tyou?Deepdownyouwere nevergoingtotakethatjob,butyouwantedtohurtmebecauseIhurt you.”
“I…”
“Goddammit,Sierra,whenwillyoufuckinggrowup?”
Heyankshisphonefrommyhandsandturns,beforehegetstothe door,hebarks.“Don’tbothercomingover.”
Thenhe’sgoneandthedoorslamsloudlyinhiswake.Ishudderand thenlowermyselftomykneesandcry.Ifuckedup.Thisoneisonme.
Isitlikethatontheground,pitifully,foralongtime.Idon’tknow whattodo,heckIdon’tevenknowwheretogo.Idon’twanttobehere, butIknowMarcusdoesn’twantmethere.Angryandfrustrated,Idress myselfandgoout.Iendupatalocalbar,sittingatthewoodensetup withaglassofvodkaandorangeinmyhand.Drinkingisneverthe answer.Yeahright,itmakesmefeelbetternow,thathastocountfor something.Istaredownattheorangeliquidandsigh.Iwaswrong.Iwent outofmywaytohurthim,andpartofmedidn’tevenrealizeIwasdoing it.Iamstillpunishinghim,andhedoesn’tdeserveit.
“Anotherdrinkmiss?”
Ilookupattheyoungbartender,withhispalehairandeyes.Igive himmybestattemptatasmile.
“Please.”
HeslidesmeanotherdrinkandIfinishtheoneinmyhand,sliding himtheemptybackbeforestartingonthefreshone.Ipulloutmyphone, therearenotextsfromMarcus.Notevenacall.Idecidetocallmy parents,Ihaven’tcheckedinforawhileandIcouldusethesoundofmy mother’svoicerightnow.SheanswersonthesecondringandIsmile whenIhearhercheerfulgreeting.
“Hello?”
“Mom,it’sme.”
“Sierra,baby,howareyou?”
“Notsogood.”
“Ohhoney,what’swrong.Yousoundawful?”
“MarcusandIhadafight.”
Mymotherdoesn’tevenknowwebrokeup.Iliterallywentinto hidingforthefivedayswewereapartsonoone,butQuinnandRaine, knewwhatactuallywentdown.IknowIshouldhavecalledmymom,but Ithinkit’salltoocomplicatedforher.
“Oh,whathappened?”
Itellherfromstarttofinish,everythingthat’shappened.Sheneeds tounderstanditall,tounderstandwhat’sgoingonnow.Ididn’treally wanttotellher,butIdidn’tseeawayaroundit.She’ssilentamoment.
“Ohhoney,thatsoundscomplicated.”
“Itis.Ireallyscrewedup,mom.”
“Youwerereactingwithrawemotions,sometimeswedosillythings likethat.”
“Ihurthim,andtherewasnoneedforit.”
“Ohsweetie,Iknow.”
“WhatdoIdo?”
“Talktohim,it’sallyoucando.”
“Hedoesn’twantmethere.”
“Givehimsometime,love,hewillcomearound.”
Inod,sighing.“Howareyouanddad?”
“We’regood,missingyou.”
“Iwillcomehomesoon,Ipromise.”
“Ihopeso,andhopefullyyou’llbringMarcustoo.”
Inod,eventhoughshecan’tseeit.“Hopefully.Ishouldgo,I’llcall laterintheweekok?”
“Imissyou,Sierra,givehimtimeok?He’llcomearound.”
“Iloveyou,mom.”
“Youtoo.”
Ihangupandswallowtherestofmydrink.Icanfeelitalready swimmingtomyhead.Thebartendergivesmefourmoreinthecourseof anhourandbythetimeIstandtogotothebathroom,I’mdrunk.WhenI stumblemywaydownthehallandstepintothesmall,whitebathroom,I seeagirlstandingbythemirror,swaying.Herdarkeyemake-upis runningfromthehardnightshe’sclearlyhaving.Ilookatherface, wonderingifshe’sgoingthroughthesameasIam.Iobviouslylooktoo long,becauseshebarks,“Fuckareyoulookin’at,youlittleskank.”
Shocked,Imeethergaze.“What?”
“Youheardme.Thefuckareyoulookin’at?”
“Ithoughtyoumightneedhelp,that’sall.”
“Why?‘CozI’mnotbeautifullikeyou?Thoughtmaybeyou’dpity meandseeifyoucansavetheday.”
“No,”Isnap.“Iwasjustgoingtoseeifyouwereallright.”
“Bullshit.GirlslikeyouarethereasonI’mnotallright.”
She’sslurringsobadly,I’mfairlysurealcoholisn’ttheonlythingin hersystem.Whenshestepstowardsme,Istepback.
“Aw,you’renotscared,areyouprincess?”
“I’llleavenow,becauseclearlyyoucan’thandleyouralcohol.Ifyou hateyourlifesomuch,goandtakeitoutonthepersonwhomadeitthat way.”
Thatwasabadmoveonmybehalf.BeforeIcanseewhat’s happening,sheswingsherarmandhitsmewiththefullcanshehasin herhand.Itexplodesonmycheek,sendingmeflyingbackwiththeblow.
Liquid,whichI’msureisnotjustthemixedalcoholfromthecan,runs downmyfaceasmyvisionblurs.Ihearanothergirlcomeinandyellat her,andbeforeIknowit,they’regoneandI’mleftswaying.Myvision swimsasthethrobbingpaininmytemplebecomesalmosttoomuchto handle.Iturnslowly,grippingthebenchandlookintothemirror.Myeye isalreadygoingblackandIhavebloodtricklingdownfrommytemple.
Idropmyhandbagontothecounterandreachformyphone.Ipullit outanddialMarcuswithblurryvision.Hedoesn’tansweronthefirst attempt,soIsendhimwhatIimaginelookslikeapathetic,drunkentext message.
SIERRA-Ineedhelp.Atthebarneartheuni.Girlhitmewithacan.
Ileanmybodyagainstthebenchandreachout,grippingsomepaper towelandpressingittomytemple,myhandbecomessmudgedwith bloodandthewoundonmyheadburnsasmyfingersgrazeoverit.Great, justgreat.Istumbleoutofthetoiletsandwhenthebarassistantnotices me,herushesover.
“Areyouok?”heasks,horrifiedatthebloodonmyhands.
“I’mok,somegirljustthrewhercanatmyhead.”
“Sitdown,I’llcallanambulance.”
“No,I’mok.”
“You’rebleedingprettybadly.”
“Headwound,theyalways
bleed.”
“Move!”
Ihearthevoiceboomingbehindme.Iknowthatvoice.Marcus.I turnjustintimetoseehimshovinghiswaythroughpeople,hisgaze wild.
“IsthatMarcusHarrison?”thebarassistantgasps.
“Yes,”Imurmur.“Itis.”
Marcusnoticesmeandhestops,hisfacedropsandhisangerturnsto worry.Hehurriesover,stoppinginfrontofmeandgrippingmyface.
“Whathappened?”
“Agirlhitme,withhercan.”
“Showme.”
Hepullsthepapertoweloffmyheadandwinces.
“Thatwillneedstitches.You,isthereabackexit?”hebarksatthe barassistant.
“Y-y-yessir.”
“Welldon’tjuststandthere,showme.”
Marcuswrapsanarmaroundmeandliftsmetomyfeet,thenhe beginsfollowingthebarassistant.Iheargirlsbehindusgushingover Marcusandhowhotheis.Hecompletelyignoresthem,andfocuseson gettingmeout.Whenweslipthroughthebackandoutthedoor,Marcus isonthephoneorderinghiscararound.Momentslater,thesleek,black SUVpullsupandamanjumpsoutandopensthedoor.Marcusslidesme in.
“Wheretosir?”
“Hospital.”
Marcusslidesinbesidemeandslamsthedoor,thenheturnstome.I staresheepishlyathim.
“Whatthefuckwereyouthinking,Sierra?Yougooutandgetdrunk becauseweargue?”
Ishiftuncomfortably.“Ididn’tgoandgetdrunkbecausewe argued…”Iprotest.“Ok,Idid,butIdidn’tprovokethatgirl.Ithought shewasintroubleandshegotangryatme.Shewasdrunk,orhigh,or bothandshelostit.IknowIshouldn’thavecomeout,butIwashurting because…becauseIwaswrong.Youwereright,Iwastryingtopunish youforhurtingme.ItwaschildishandIshouldn’thavedoneit.We shouldhavetalkedbeforeweletitgetthisfar,likeyoufirstsuggested andwedidn’t.Iregretthat.”
Hiseyessoftenandheletshisgazesearchmyface.
“Youscaredme,baby,whenIwalkedinandsawyoulikethat.All myangerdied.Idon’twanttobelikethiswithyou.”
Inod,feelingatearslidedownmycheek.Hereachesoverand swipesitaway.
“IwaswrongMarcus,Iknewyouwouldn’thavedoneanythingwith Candice,IwasjustmakingamountainoutofamolehillbecauseIwas stillangryatyou,andIshouldn’tbe.Whathappenedwasasmuchmy faultasitwasyours,andIranoutwithoutlettingyouexplain.Iwashurt andIoverreacted.Ishouldn’thaveevenspokentoBen,andforthatI trulyamsorry.Iwantthis,morethanyouknow,IknowIdidn’tshowyou that,butit’sthetruth.”
Hesmooth’safingerovermycheek.“Iknowthat,sweetheart.”
“I’msorry.”
“Metoo.”
Igripthesideofmyheadandgroan.“It’shurtingalot.”
“Iknow,baby.Here,layonmychestandletmeholdthattowelto it.”
Ileanoverandrestmycheekagainsthischest.Hepushesmyhand gentlyfromthepapertowelandputshishandwhereminewas.Ilistento hisheartbeatcarefullyandfeelmyheadswimmingfromthealcohol.
BeforeIknowit,I’mout.
~*~*~*~*
MARCUS
Iknowshe’sasleep,Icanhearherbreathingsteadyingout.Istrokea pieceofbloodyhairfromhercheekandstaredownather.Myheart clenchespainfully.Ihatethatshe’shurting.Ihatethatshefelttheneed tohurtmebackafterwhatIdid.Ican’tblameher,wewerebothinthe wrong.Seeinghercoveredinbloodanddrunk,aloneinabar,itscared thelivingshitoutofme.Ididn’tthinkaboutanythingelsewhenI chargedintothatbar,shewasallthatmymindcouldwraparoundandI couldn’tfocusonanythingelse.
“We’reheresir.”
Ilookupatmydriver,Paul,andnod.IgentlyshakeSierraandshe groans,liftingherheadfrommychest.
“We’rehere,sweetheart.”
Ihelpheroutofthecarandshestumblesafewtimes.Wrappingmy armaroundhertightly,Ileadhertowardstheentrance.Whenwegetin,a youngnursewithwhiteblondehairsmilesupatus.
“CanIhelpyou?”shebegins,andthenherfaceflushes.“Marcus Harrison,sir,towhatdoweowethistremendouspleasure?”
Isshefuckingserious?Hasshecompletelymissedthebleedinggirl inmyarms?Ilookdownather,andwhenBarbiemanagestomoveher eyesfrommyface,shenoticeshertoo.
“Oh,my,whathappened?”
“Shegothit,she’sbleeding.Iwantmedicalattentionnow,ifyou will.”
“Ofcourse,sir,Iwillfindadoctorforyourightaway.”
Shegivesmeonelastlingeringstare,towhichIglareat,andthen turnsandrushesoff.
“Youok?”IaskSierra.
“Shewasflirtingwithyou,”shelaughs,butit’srestricted.
“She’sinsane.”
“You’rebeautiful,”shemurmurs.
Ican’thelpthesmallsmilethatfindsitswaytomylips.IsitSierra down,butwe’renottherelongbeforeanolderdoctorcomesouttogreet us.
“MarcusHarrison,it’sapleasure.HowcanIhelpyou?”
HelooksdownatSierraandhiseyesnarrow.
“Oh,my,bringherthrough.”
Istandandfollowhimintoasmallroom.IsitSierradownandshe gigglesalittleassheslumpsagainstthechair.
“Shegothitintheheadwithafullcan,it’sbleedingbadly.”
ThedoctornodsandkneelsinfrontofSierra.
“Hello,love,doyoumindifItakealook?”
“No,”shewhispers.
Hepullsthepapertoweloffandinspectsthewound.
“Shetookahardhit,Ithinkthatwillneedafewstitches.”
“Ithoughtso,”Isay.
“Givemeaminutetoprepare,andI’llgethertakencareofright away.”
Thedoctorissuperquick,whichIimagineisonlybecauseofmy presence.Hehashercleanedandstitchedwithinhalfanhour.After givingmestrictorders,heletsmetakeherhome.Theentiredrivetomy apartmentissilent,Sierrafallsinandoutofconsciousness,partofthatI believeisalcohol.Whenwegetin,Ihelpherupthestairsandlayherin thebed.Shelooksupatmewiththoseprettyeyesandherhandreaches outtostrokeovermycheek.Iturnmyfaceintohertouch,needingtofeel everypartofher.
“I’msorry,”shewhispers.
“Iknowyouare.”
“Canwegetthroughthis?”
Ileandownandkissherhead,lettingmylipslinger.“Wealready are,sleepsweetheart.I’llberighthere.”
Lettingherhandfall,shesmilesatmeandthenslowly,hereyes flutterclosed.Godhelpme,thisgirlischangingmyworld.
CHAPTER7
SIERRA
“Hmmmmm,”Marcusmurmursintomyhair.“Yousmellamazing.”
Igroanandrollontomyback,myeyesareheavybecauseI’mso tired.IfeelMarcus’warmbodybesidemeandhesmellsdivine.Like Marcus,crossedwithonehellofasexycologne.Heswipesmyhairfrom myforeheadandleansdown,grazinghislipsacrossmine.WhenImove myheadtotheleft,itthrobsandIrememberwhathappenedlastnight.
Groaning,Iturnitbacktotheothersideandletmyeyesadjusttothe faintlightintheroom.Marcusislyingbesideme,lookingperfectly ruffledandgorgeous.
“Ouch,”Iwhisper.
“Ibet.Isthepainreallybad?”
“No,justadullthrob.”
“Itwillhurtforafewdays.”
“God,Iamsuchachildsometimes.”
Hesmiles.“Iwon’targuethat.”
Ismackhisarm.“Hey,goeasy.I’mhungoverandsore.”
Heslideshislipsacrossmine.“I’lltakecareofyou.”
“Ohwillyounow?”
“Mmmmm.”
“How?”
Hegrinsandgentlydeepensthekiss.IbreathehiminasIs
nuggle closer,runningmyfingersupanddownhissides.Heshiversandgroans, holdingmetightlyandpullingmybodycloser.Whenheslideshishands upmyarmandgripsmywrists,Istiffen.
“Trustmesweetheart,slowlyremember?”
Iswallowandclosemyeyes,lettingmybodyjustenjoyhim.He slideshislipsdownmyneckandhisfreehandtravelsdownmybodyand overmynakedbreasts.Marcuspinchesmynipple,rollingitgently betweenhisthumbandforefingeruntilit’shard,throbbingandsotightit almostburns.Growling,hetrailshisfingersdownuntilhefindsmy achingpussy,Iarchup,desperatetofeelmoreofhim.
Hedipshisfingersbetweenmyfoldsandfindsmyachingnub,he rubsitgently,slidinghisfingersovertheachingbundleofnervesuntil I’marchingandcryingoutloudly.Irunmyfingernailsdownhissides untilhe’sgrowlingwithamixofpainandpleasure.Hetakesholdofmy body,lettingmyhandsgo,andgentlyflipsmeovertomystomach.He gripsmyass,tiltingitupandplunginghistongueintomycleftfrom behind.Igroananddropthegoodsideofmyheadintothepillowand shudderasboltsofpureecstasytearthroughmybody.
“Ohgod,Marcus,fuckme,”Icry,pummelingmyfirstsintothe sheets.
“Ohbaby,areyousure?You’rehurt.”
“I’mok,please…”Imewl.Idon’tcareaboutthedullthrobinmy head,Ineedhiminsideme.Now.
HeslideshistongueawayandIhearhimshufflingaround,thenhis bodyisovermineagainandhe’sleaningdownnearmyear.Hischestis curvedovermyback,hiscockthrobbingagainstmyentrance.
“Doyoutrustmebaby?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“YouknowIwon’thurtyou,andyoursafewordispurple.”
Iswallowandinmyhaze,Inod.Marcusgripsmyhandsandpulls themdownthroughtheopeninginmylegs.Myfaceisgentlypressing againstthepillow,andmybottomisintheair.Hetakesmywristsand bindsthemtomyankles,andIwhimperattheoddsensationofhaving bindsonagain.Iswallowrapidly,tryingtokeepcalm.Hewon’thurtyou, lethimin.Youpromisedhimyouwouldtry,Sierra.Iclosemyeyesand letthemomenttakeme,blockingoutmythoughts.Ican’tliveinfearfor therestofmylife,Marcusisgoodforme,Ijusthavetolethimtry.
“Goodgirl,”hemurmurs,runningafingerdownmyspine.“You looksobeautifullikethis.”
