Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series)

by Brannon, M. S.

  “Ah… red flags going up all over the place,” she says, locking her arms around her body.

  “Red what?”

  “Red. Flags. You’ve driven me to an unknown destination surrounded by trees and away from any civilization pulling a long rope from your trunk. If this isn’t the definition of a red flag alert, I don’t know what is.”

  I move from the back of the car and come around to stand in front of her body. Goosebumps have formed across her tanned skin and she looks like she’s ready to kick me in the balls and scream bloody murder.

  “Give me a break. Do you think I would actually do anything to hurt you?” Just the audacity of her assuming I would harm her in any way begins to piss me off. I’ve done nothing of the kind. Actually, I’ve been the exact opposite and have protected her from danger. “Well, cupcake, you’re going to have to trust me.”

  “That’s the scary part, Jake. From the moment I met you I’ve been seeing red flags all over the place, but there’s this little voice in my head that gets louder every time you’re around, telling me it’s okay to trust you. It’s unnerving that I can’t ignore it.” Delilah pulls her hair up into a floppy bun on her head and expels a deep breath. I can tell she’s really bothered by this, but it only makes me smile because it means she’s finally recognizing what it’s like to truly live.

  I hold out my hand for her to take and she does. “It’s okay. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Now stop pouting so we can have a little fun.”

  I get her classic roll of the eyes and return it with my trademark smirk before we begin to make our way through the tall grass, walking about twenty feet. When we clear the trees, the full moon shines down on a small lake, making thousands of tiny diamonds dance on the water.

  Letting go of her hand, I drop the backpack and make my way over to the large tree with its limbs hanging over the water. Using my best climbing skills, I ascend the tree, securing the rope around the thick bark of the limb.

  When I get back to Delilah, she’s still staring at the water, memorized by the calmness it brings. I open the backpack, pull out a couple of big towels and lay them on the grass.

  She meets my gaze and whispers, “What is this place?”

  “Well, since you’re going home tomorrow I wanted to save the best part of Sulfur Heights for last. Welcome to my swimming hole. Come on.” I shed my shirt and then take her hand, bringing her over to the tree where I just tied the rope.

  “Now, you can jump off the small hill to get in the water, but I suggest using the rope. I would leave your shoes on; God knows what’s on the bottom of the lake, but this is so much fun. Watch.” I let go of her hand and walk backwards up a hill. Securing the rope around my hands, I run forward, allowing the tension in the rope to glide me through the air and I drop. The water is cold as hell as I plunge underneath its dark depths, but it feels amazing.

  I look over to Delilah staring at me like I’ve asked her to eat dirt and shout, “Come on!”

  Delilah says nothing as she grabs the rope in her tiny hands and marches herself up the steep hill. She releases her waist length blonde hair and shakes it out to flow down her back. Damn! You only see that shit in the movies. I’m glad I’m in the water because my dick is once again misbehaving.

  “So I just run and land in the water? This doesn’t seem very audacious, plus you have no idea what kind of bacteria is growing in there. I could come out of there with a flesh eating disease making all my skin fall off and—”

  “Shut up! That’s the adventure, cupcake!” I taunt and she stiffens. “Now stop being a chicken-shit and launch your sweet ass into this water.”

  “Fine! Don’t call me cupcake!”

  I let out a huge laugh as I wade in the water, keeping myself upright. Then I hear a squeal as Delilah swings through the air and lands in the water.

  When her head surfaces, she screams to me as she swims over in my direction. “The water is freezing!”

  ***

  We spend the next couple of hours swimming in the cool water. The longer we spend in the lake, the more creative we get launching ourselves into the water. I try doing flips when I swing off the rope, but soon find out that shit was so much easier to do when I was ten.

  Delilah discovers the limb we tied the rope to works as an excellent diving board. Soon, it’s who can outdo the other as we flip and jump into the water. I have not had this much fun in ages and Delilah is smiling from ear to ear. She will definitely never forget our night here.

  When we’re done, we make our way out of the water and wrap ourselves in the towels. Delilah picks up her phone and snuggles in close to me. I wrap my arms around her, trying to warm her cold skin. She holds her phone out, but struggles getting the best angle to take our picture.

  “Here,” I take the phone from her hand, hold it up and snap the picture.

  She pushes a few buttons and shows it to me. “It’s perfect, just like tonight. Thank you, Jake. I’ve had a great time.”

  I bend down close to her ear, tempted to kiss the delicate, soft spot underneath it, but I think better of it. “You’re welcome,” I whisper instead.

  The air is chilly on our wet skin and prompts us to change into our dry clothes. I’m a perfect gentleman, though, and don’t look her way once while she’s getting dressed.

  Now in dry clothes, I lead Delilah over to the hood of the Challenger and we lie back, staring up at the stars, enjoying the perfect summer night. In the distance you can hear crickets and other insects chirping, but the stillness in the air has me feeling at a loss.

  In a few hours Delilah will be driving her rental car to the airport and she’ll be gone, back to her life in Memphis. It’s hard to pretend I won’t miss her, and it pisses me off that I even feel that I will miss her or that I want to kiss her. I don’t kiss women. Sure, I kiss certain parts of women—their tits mostly—but I never kiss a woman on the lips. It’s too personal and gives them the wrong idea. However, when Delilah is so close to me, that’s all I can think about. Kissing her full, pouty lips, sucking her tongue into my mouth and exploring every part of her that I can. Claiming her as mine.

  Delilah’s voice cuts through the silence and the random thoughts consuming my brain. “Can we stay until the sun comes up? I haven’t seen a sunrise since I was a little kid. As a matter of fact, I haven’t swum since I was a little kid and watching the sunrise would put icing on the cake of this perfect night.”

  She shivers slightly so I move closer, putting my arm around her shoulder. Delilah stills momentarily, but then relaxes as we continue to lie back on the hood of the car and stare up at the stars, tucking herself in.

  “Sure, we can do whatever you want. This is your night.”

  “So, tell me about yourself, Jake. I’ve spent so much time with you and the only thing I really know is that you drink like a fish, you hustle, drag race and play pool. Oh, and let’s not forget about the endless amount of ladies chasing after you.” Her head is resting on my chest as we lie there together with my arm around her waist, holding her tightly to my side. It’s amazing how perfectly she fits into my side.

  “What else is there to know? That’s pretty much my life,” I answer honestly.

  Delilah stays quiet for a moment, thinking about her next question, then asks, “Well, what made you the person you are today? How does one become a part of all that?”

  The question is hanging in the air as I really think about her words. Why did I become what I am today? I suppose to her I’m unaccomplished and a waste of human space, but in all honesty there is only one reason I started to do what I do. I debate on answering her question with my classic smartass answer, yet then I let down my hard exterior and decide she’s a person worth letting in. That’s what my gut has been telling me all along and now my mind is finally catching on. “Survival.”

  “Survival? Do you mean because you guys were orphaned at a young age?” she asks with only the slightest volume to her voice.

  “Well, that�
�s part of it, but I was me long before my mother and father died. I had to… they left me no other choice. It was either learn to survive on my own or be left for dead.” I start to tense up, thinking of my mother. I couldn’t think of a worse mother for child than her. She chose to favor one child over the rest and reminded me every day how much she hated me. “My father was in and out of my life. He was never around permanently only because my mother hated him so much. The last time I saw him, he was so cracked out that he didn’t know which way was up, and eventually, he was murdered.”

  Delilah’s breath hitches in her throat as I tell her my sad childhood story. “What about your mother?”

  I dread telling her about my mother. She’s the last person I want to talk about. I decide we can save that for another day when I have a shot of whiskey to chase it with.

  “Let’s just say she was a nightmare of a different kind and had no problem taking it out on me.” My jaw clinches tight when the thoughts of the vile woman flood my mind. All the beatings, hateful words and lack of concern for me and my brothers angers me every time I have to think about her.

  Delilah sits up and looks me dead in the face. “That’s it.”

  Confused, I ask, “What’s it?”

  “Your mother. She’s the reason you have little to no respect for women. I’ve been trying to figure it out from the moment we met, trying to really understand why you act the way you act toward women, and now I know.”

  “And how do I act?” I ask, sitting up with much irritation to my voice. Here she goes being self-righteous again and it’s going to lead me to be pissed off and our night will be ruined.

  “Really? Do you even have to ask? Jake, you go through women like they’re candy. You’re crude, disrespectful and treat them like they don’t have feelings.”

  We are both sitting up, our faces incredibly close together. I can tell she’s getting upset with me and my body language is matching hers as my shoulders tense and my jaw tightens.

  “Here we go! Miss holier-than-thou judging my life again. You know—”

  She stops me short by holding her hand up, then interrupts, “Jake, stop! I’m not judging you. I am simply pointing out the truth. Think about the first night we met and what you said to me in the driveway. Do you have any idea how much that upset me?” I nod my head and she continues. “Exactly. You treat woman like they’re trash because the only woman you’ve had in your life did the same to you. But here’s your chance.” Delilah takes my hand in hers and looks into my eyes, burning intensity comes off hers. “I’m going to give you a chance to change your thinking of how to treat a woman.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, unable to break my gaze from hers.

  “I’m going to show you what it’s really like to have a woman in your life that you can respect and count on for whatever you need.” She holds her hand up and it’s unbelievable how she can read my mind. “And before you even say it, I’m not speaking about anything sexual. Purely friendship.”

  “I already have Darcie. I respect her and her opinion,” I counter.

  “Darcie doesn’t count because she’s like family to you. You need to have a woman friend who’s not a part of your family; someone who can give you an outside perspective and insight.”

  “So you’re saying you want to be my friend?” I ask, still holding her hand and feeling the heat coming off her skin.

  “No.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck. I wrap both my arms around her waist and pull her tightly to my chest. “I’m going to be your best friend,” she says with a smile in her tone before she releases a little giggle.

  Her breath against my ear sends an electrical current zapping through me and it makes me want her more. Way more than friends should want each other.

  “What makes you say that?” I turn my face in toward the crook of her neck, still fighting with not pressing my lips to her soft, sweet smelling skin. There is the charging feeling of desire only she’s been able to produce within me coursing through me.

  Delilah breaks our embrace and taps her finger on the side of her head. “Women’s intuition.”

  Chapter 7

  Delilah

  One Month Later

  Leaving Sulfur Heights was much harder than I ever expected. The day I arrived, I was sure I couldn’t get away from that place fast enough, but the longer I spent with the Evans family and with Presley’s current situation, I found it impossible to get in my rental car and drive to the airport.

  When Jake and I left the lake, we had a newfound friendship to embark on and I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us. In all honesty, I thought it would last a couple of weeks, however, after a month, he still texts, emails or calls me once a day.

  There is a side to him I was sure didn’t exist. He is sweet and caring in his own crude little way, and as much as he can tick me off—especially when he calls me cupcake—I am proud to call him my friend.

  Of course, I reach out to Presley every day and even remind Drake of what he needs to do for her to keep Presley as content as he can. I am so glad they are finally happy again. When I left, I was afraid she would do something drastic or she would lose the baby. She was so upset, but now I haven’t heard her voice so happy since that first night in Sulfur Heights. I know everything will be fine with her and her new little one.

  I screamed into the phone when she told me she was having a girl and immediately started shopping. I had no idea how much you can buy a baby, but for a little girl, the options are endless.

  I am already working on designing her nursery because I’m unable to attend the small shower Darcie is planning. I went crazy buying bedding, pictures, accessories and so much more. When I have a baby, my husband better look out because I will be racking up the credit card.

  I’ve convinced Jake and Jeremy to buy the bedroom furniture for the baby. Both of them groaned and complained, however they conceded soon enough. I am planning a weekend to come up and put everything together. I have a feeling if I left it up to the rest of them, it would be a mess. My little niece does not need to be brought home to chaos.

  Presley has asked me to be with her when she gives birth; I was overwhelmed with joy. We’ve been through so much as friends and I’m elated she wants me to be a part of her newest experience. I wonder how Drake feels about this, though. He is private person and having me in the room may frustrate him because I’m the exact opposite. If she doesn’t ask Jake to be there, then all will be peaceful.

  Classes are in full swing, moving into my sophomore year of college. Emerson has graduated in May and is now attending graduate school, studying to become a CPA and financial wizard. I don’t pretend to understand what he will be doing for a living; math has never been my strong suit. I find it rather boring and cumbersome.

  He is a hardworking man who’s determined to take over his father’s empire by the time he graduates from school. His family runs a very successful accounting firm and it’s been thriving for the past two generations. I have no doubt he will make it to the head of the company in no time by introducing his expert way of thinking.

  Emerson is everything I knew I would end up loving. When I first saw him on campus almost a year ago, it was like I was looking into my future, knowing I would be the woman on his arm one day. It seemed presumptuous at the time, but now it couldn’t be more perfect.

  We are incredibly happy and often talk about the future together, something we do while walking hand in hand; just talk about how our lives will be, where we will live and how many kids we want to have. Emerson has yet to propose, but I’m not worried. I know we are meant to be together. After all, I was raised to fall in love with a man exactly like him.

  The day I told my mother who I was now dating was probably the happiest day in her life. We were sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when I just blurted it out.

  “Umm… I’ve got a boyfriend.” My nerves were on edge as my mother stopped eating, holding her spoon of oatmeal in midair.

>   Clearing her throat, she placed her spoon back into the bowl and wiped the corners of her mouth off with her napkin before she turned her stone-cold glare back to me and asked, “Do I know this boy?”

  “Yes, I went to school with him. Emerson Knox.”

  My mother’s eyes lit up with recognition and the biggest smile stretched across her face. “Oh, honey, from the way you were acting I was worried you were going to tell me one of your… projects was your new boyfriend.”

  “Projects? Mother, really? What is that supposed to mean?” I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I wanted to hear her say it. It only affirmed why I befriended the people that I did—the people she’d deemed below her.

  “You know, the friends who are like Presley. But, Emerson Knox… well, I couldn’t pick a better boy for my daughter to date than him. He’s sophisticated, intelligent and from an elite Memphis family—just perfect for you. Just the type of boy I raised you to marry.”

  She didn’t even give me a chance to respond because she went straight for her cell phone, telling everyone in her clique who her daughter was dating. I was disgusted and upset she’d taken my happy moment and turned it into her own. My mother had been molding me to be the perfect wife from the day I was born. I had gone to etiquette classes, participated in cotillion dances and volunteered at numerous charity events hosted by her. I was raised never to do anything that would deem me un-lady like. No sex before marriage, I didn’t play sports or hang out with the wrong people.

  I am still surprised she allows me to be friends with Presley, considering she isn’t from our side of town, but then she has explained to me that having one friend of a lower means makes me a more desirable person to be around. I rack my brain, trying to remember who my mother’s lower class friends are, but soon realize she doesn’t have any. The moment my dad said ‘I do’, she ditched anyone who wasn’t worthy and became a doctor’s wife and fundraising extraordinaire. She became fake. She became a Stepford wife.