Absolution Road

by Rachel Blaufeld

As I stroked his back, I felt a lump under his shirt and panicked. “What is that?”

  “It’s all good, Aly-cat.” He stood abruptly and tugged off his shirt, his movements sending his abs and arms rippling. He turned his back to me and reached over to rip a bandage off his shoulder blade.

  I blinked, unsure what I was seeing was real. Tattooed across his shoulder blade was one of those silhouettes of a woman’s legs, except this one had one real leg and one with a prosthetic. It should have been ugly, but it wasn’t. It was very sexy. Red stiletto fuck-me heels adorned each foot, both the real one and the prosthetic, and underneath, Legs was written in a beautiful script.

  “You ready to get your new leg, babe?”

  Aly

  “Shoot!” The bottle fell to the floor, sending bright orange lotion squirting everywhere except where I wanted. Deflated, I slammed my palm into the counter and grabbed my crutches. I let out a defeated sigh as I hobbled over to the stupid bottle, bending over on one foot to grab it, and cursing the fact I didn’t put on my damn prosthetic.

  I needed a break from that mechanical hunk of junk. Of course, it was top of the line; I had government-employee health insurance. It still stank; it was ugly and foreign. And it wasn’t me. For God’s sake, all I wanted was to go into the damn bathroom and have some girl time without having to strap on my suit of armor.

  With my right leg laid out straight in front of me and my good ole stump there too, I slumped down on the floor and snatched up the bottle. It was the Fourth of July, and I hadn’t spent much time outside so I was pale as a ghost. Was it too much to want to look sexy, seductive even, with an uneven body?

  I slathered the hideous self-tanning lotion over my muscles and curves. My right leg had definitely benefited from the grueling workouts; it was toned and firm. My arm muscles flexed as I blended the cream into my fair skin. I was more fit than ever before¸ everywhere but my left leg. My right quad was sculpted, my calf equally as defined. I could have run a million steps with two legs, and they wouldn’t have been this muscular.

  I guess one is better than none.

  Shoving all of it to the back of my mind, I went back to prettying myself. I’d never been self-conscious before. I used to take care of myself, making health and wellness a priority but not a life mission. Forced to live within a budget in my old life, I’d bought flattering, somewhat sexy professional and casual clothes on sale. Now I lived with a muscle man and was a semi-cripple.

  Okay, so I hadn’t shoved my inadequacies as far back as I’d hoped. If I wasn’t so fragile, why did everyone continue to treat me as if I were?

  There was a knock on the door, followed by it opening a crack. “Al, you good?”

  “Yep,” I squeaked out.

  The door opened wider. “Babe? What’re you doing on the floor?”

  Proud of myself for holding the tears at bay, I pushed up to one leg and leaned against the counter. “I was putting on some cream. I’m good.”

  Jake didn’t waste any time. He stalked across the bathroom tile barefoot and shirtless, his workout shorts hanging low on his waist, and picked me up.

  I slapped his back. “Jake! You’re getting self-tanner all over you.”

  “So what!”

  Tossing me over his shoulder, he walked me over to the couch in the far side of his—our—bedroom. A throw pillow fell to the floor as he set me down.

  “Get it,” he commanded Maverick, and the growing puppy gingerly picked up the pillow and brought it to Jake. In addition to a slew of PT people and gym buffs, a dog trainer came twice a week to train Mav to be helpful to me.

  It was all too much, but between Bess and Jake, there was no saying “no.” Bess steamrolled over everyone at rehab, demanding the best from every social worker and discharge planner in the place. She knew all kinds of lingo from volunteering with addicts, and she tossed it around like confetti on New Year’s Eve.

  “Why are you smearing this shit all over your beautiful skin?” Jake wrinkled his nose and ran a finger down the gross orange color streaked down my leg.

  “I’ve barely seen the sun, and now we’re going to a party.”

  “Aly-cat,” he growled, and gathered me in his lap.

  He put his hands on either side of my face and looked into my eyes. I wondered what he saw; his blue eyes were tortured with equal parts understanding and anger.

  “I don’t like this crap all over you. I want you the way you are. You haven’t been outside because you’re training.”

  “Rehabbing.”

  “No, training for life.” He ran his lips over my jaw, speaking into my ear as he added, “With me.”

  He kissed me; not a rough kiss, but tender, like his touch. We’d made love since the accident, and it was always soft and gentle. I’d be on the bottom, propped up on pillows, and Jake would get me off with his fingers before slipping inside me and riding me slowly. He didn’t gather my hands above me anymore, nor did he give me a little spank on the thigh or roughly snag my whole leg and shove it up on his shoulder like he used to. The days of Jake needing to be in charge were gone.

  “Stop!” I blurted, creating distance from his lips brushing across mine.

  He pulled back his head and raised an eyebrow.

  “Stop,” I whispered. “Please, take me off your lap.”

  Afraid of me—as usual—Jake set me down on the couch and walked to the bed. “What’s wrong?” He sat on the edge of the comforter, his bare feet restless on the hardwood in front of him.

  “You can’t keep treating me like I’m a piece of fine china,” I said, and he swallowed and ran his hand over his forehead. “You don’t want me the way you used to want me, and I don’t want to be some guilty project for you so you can feel whole. I know I don’t look like a real woman, but I am one.”

  “Fuck me!” He stood and punched the wall. Plaster spilled onto the floor, sending dust particles afloat in the still air.

  “You are not some guilty project,” he said, sneering on the last word. “You’re not any project. Don’t be fucking ridiculous. A project? Get real!”

  With his arms flexed and his amped-up breathing, he looked poised to fight. But not with me. With himself, his inner demons, whomever he wanted to blame for his reluctance.

  “Then what am I? You have all this equipment in your house, a therapy dog, and me with one leg in your bed. You’ve moved me twice now. When we first met, you demanded I allow you to be in charge. Now you’re all touchy-feely, carrying me all over the place. I’m not a baby, Jake! I’m a woman.”

  This time, Jake brought up his other hand and punched a matching hole in the wall. “I told Bess I was treating you too gently! I knew I was fucking up. Doc Wells told me too. Al, I don’t know what to do. I’m a helpless man. Up until I met you, I barely stayed the night with anyone. My ass was out the door before breakfast.”

  “Then go back and do that!” I screamed.

  “But I don’t want to,” he shouted, pacing back and forth in front of me as he ran one hand through his hair. Then he stopped in front of me where I sat on the couch and glared at me.

  “I want to throw you on your stomach and pull your hands above your fucking head and slam my cock into you from behind. Then I want us to shower—together—and I want to take you out to dinner. But you only have one leg! One fucking leg, Aly! And I don’t know how to deal with that other than to take care of you like I’ve been doing. To me, you’re still Aly. But I want you to be my Aly-cat, and I want to plunder you and love you, just like I always did. ”

  He made his way close and slid onto his knees in front of me, laying his head in my lap.

  “But that’s my problem, not yours.” I didn’t touch him when I said it; I just shut my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

  “It is my problem,” he said, mumbling into my lap. “I could’ve been there, saved you, found you. Fuck, I could’ve prevented the whole thing from happening in the first place. Instead, Shirley was there. The person I hate the most.”

>   I leaned back, trying to see his face. “Is that what this is about? Shirley?”

  I knew she continued to plague him. The thought of her watching him, keeping an eye on his brother and niece, messed with Jake’s head. He hated that she pretended to care, and despised her for rescuing me. He panicked at the thought of letting his anger go, not knowing what to do with himself without it.

  If he let go of it all, he’d be absolved. I learned this from Dr. Wells during one of the two times I’d gone with him to see her. He wanted me to go more, but I’d shied away, unsure of what we were or what we were doing.

  “The last two decades of my life have been about Shirley,” he mumbled. “I never wanted to fall in love and then I did. With you. All I wanted was to forget her and everything she reminded me of, but now she’s front and center in my life again, and I hate it.”

  “She doesn’t have to be, Jake.” I brought a shaky hand down to the top of his head and smoothed over his buzz cut. He’d cut his long layers when summer came and he was busy, not only with his businesses but with me. The burden.

  “So what? She found me and did a good deed. I’m happy and alive. I wasn’t at first, but now I am. It doesn’t mean I forgive her for past wrongdoings or want to be best friends with her, Jake. I’m just reminded she’s human like my dad, or the guys who got to him. I’m reminded to be better. Teach my kids better. That we have the power as people to do good.”

  He lifted his head to stare at me, his eyes wide. “Kids?” he said, his voice all gravelly. “With me?”

  “Yes, Jake. I think so. I hope with you, if I can, but I don’t know. I don’t want to push you. We can’t deny your past, but we need to let it go. You need to let it go. Your past is your past. And your mistakes were those of a little boy, and I know you know that now.”

  He nodded.

  Kids? Where is this coming from?

  I hadn’t thought about the future much, other than what the hell were we—Jake and me. But suddenly the subject of kids was tumbling from my mouth, and Jake fixated on that one word.

  What did that mean? Did he want to make more of a life with me? Would he go back to the old Jake? Would he be able to leave Shirley in the past where she belonged?

  “Do you still want to take me from behind?” I asked on a whisper.

  “I do. So fucking bad,” he said, and grabbed my hand. “But you’ve already had so much taken away from you. I don’t want to take all the power too. Do you get that? I’m trying to be considerate.”

  “Jake, don’t you see that you doing that, being that way, is not being yourself. That you not acting like yourself takes something away from me?” I ran my hand over his short hair, the tiny bristles like smooth velvet on my palm.

  “Remember when you told me all that stuff about you?” I asked. “You thought I’d go running for the hills, but I didn’t blink. I held your hand and supported you. I’ve fallen for you from the beginning, just as you are, Jake. All of you—your demanding side, your guilt, your big heart. Ever since the night I met you in jail, you stirred something to life in my heart, but I didn’t know it yet. And then you came blazing in with all your crazy ideas, and I was done.”

  “Aly, I just can’t believe it.”

  “You can.”

  Jake knelt closer, then reached up and kissed me. His tongue swiped the roof of my mouth and he bit down on my lower lip. Without letting go of my mouth, he brought my hands around my back and pulled me tight, securing me in place as he sucked my nipple through my shirt.

  A desperate moan rose up in my throat. Jake brought his hands to the neckline of my tank and he ripped it right down the middle, then unclipped the hook on the front of my bra and brought his mouth back down on my bare breast. When he made contact with my skin, my nipple went hard in his mouth, and I shoved my breasts further in his face.

  “No, Aly. I’m in charge.” It came out as a growl, a command, a no-arguments-allowed demand.

  Yes!

  His tongue slid down my belly. It was tighter than before, since all I did was use my core for balance.

  “Love this,” he whispered as his tongue grazed along my belly button. In a moment of rage, I’d forced Bess to take me to get a belly-button piercing. I had no idea what possessed me. I’d always been such a good girl, and I still was.

  But I had discovered there was a tiny naughty side hidden inside me, and I wanted to feel sexy, no matter what. I liked being smart and sassy. It reminded me of the interrogation room where I first met the marvelous man currently kneeling between my legs.

  Jake’s tongue flicked the small silver circle with a few dark blue beads before he slid off my workout shorts. Now there was nothing between his tongue and my clit. I’d thought about getting that pierced too, but chickened out.

  Guess I’m only a little dirty.

  “This good, babe?” he asked, his scruff dragging along my inner thigh.

  “Yes! Yes, Jake,” I said, loud enough the neighbors might have heard.

  A load moan floated from my lips as Jake settled right where I needed him. Flicking my spot with the tip of his tongue, he pushed his finger deep inside me, and I pushed against him, wanting more.

  He swirled his rough mouth around my soft lips, the friction from his beard increasing my desire, tickling me in all the right spots. It made up for the loss of his longer hair, which used to tease and taunt me.

  I came fast and hard on a whimper as Mav’s head brushed my leg, and tamped down the scream burning up my throat. The pup was probably being protective, worried that I was hurting. We’d need to leave him downstairs from now on during our naughty time.

  “Jake,” I said on a sigh, catching my breath.

  He focused on my eyes as he stood and dropped his shorts, leaving him ready for me—his perfect V on display, his erection reaching for me, a drop of pre-come slipping out. He snatched me up fast and tossed me onto my stomach on the bed, then climbed behind me and entered without warning.

  Thank goodness I’d gone on birth control after rehab. It seemed appropriate with us temporarily living together, but hadn’t made a difference until now.

  “Yes,” I said on another moan. “Don’t go easy on me.”

  He stretched my arms above my head and held them tightly while he drove into me hard. I wriggled a little under him, thinking how delicious it was to feel so much sensation. My whole body tingled as I ran my right toes along the bed, thankful they were there. Then I clenched my inner walls around Jake and was pretty thrilled he was there inside me. A moment later he came on a shout, then toppled on top of me and didn’t move.

  And that was the most delicious feeling of all.

  Later that evening, we sat on the deck watching as fireworks erupted above the stadium. We’d skipped getting together with everyone for the holiday, and Jake opted to grill instead. He’d ordered me to sit on the chaise with wine while he made dinner, but I refused. Wearing my prosthesis, I moved around the kitchen without too much trouble, assembling a pie and baked ziti while sipping wine. It was the most normal time I’d spent since the incident, and it felt good.

  Really good. Normal, even.

  While we ate, I asked about the gym, the deal with the baseball team, the construction, and for a few hours, I felt like Aly. Jake had been giving me small updates over the last few weeks, but I wanted to hear it all. He smiled when I asked about his work with the baseball team, and he downright glowed when he explained Fizzle Cubed was on schedule for its grand opening.

  He asked my opinion about the equipment in the basement, if it was quality or shitty, explaining he was thinking of adding a PT department to the new joint.

  “How could I say anything was shitty? I have my own private rehab, Jake,” I said as blue and red bursts overtook the sky. We moved to the outdoor sofa for the fireworks display. Jake sat and wrapped his arms around me as I leaned back into him.

  “Babe, it’s helpful for me to know.” He pinched my side, and I laughed like I hadn’t laughed in a long while. />
  Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was Jake, or both.

  After I gave him my thoughts about the equipment, he asked about the townhouse. He fired questions into my ear, questions too difficult to discuss face-to-face.

  “Do you think the stairs are too much? I see you’re not sliding down them on your ass as much, but seriously . . . maybe we want a ranch?”

  “Jake, I’m not going to stay here forever,” I whispered into the night sky, watching as multicolored bursts popped overhead.

  He sat quietly, not reacting at all.

  Convinced he didn’t hear me over the booms, I focused on the fireworks, then gasped as I was whipped through the air. Jake had twisted out from underneath me, lifted me up, and set me back down on my rear. Then he knelt in front of me.

  Admittedly, I was confused for a beat—all that sudden flying around—until I realized what he was about to do.

  “No! No, Jake! Not now. Please.” I yanked at his shoulders for him to get up, and he quickly schooled the hurt rushing over his features.

  “No! Jake, don’t do that. It’s not that I haven’t sort of thought about this very moment, before all this.” I waved my hand at my leg. “Just not now. I have to get a plan in my head. I’m not even sure if I should still stay here, freeloading off you.”

  He crept up next to me, pulled me in tight, and pushed my hair behind my ears. His expression relaxed and he kissed my cheek all the way to my ear. When he pulled on the lobe with his teeth, I felt it—everywhere.

  “I can accept you’re not ready for it all,” he said, “but you’re not going anywhere. This isn’t freeloading. This is two people making a commitment, Aly-cat. I’ve never done that with anyone, never wanted to with anyone but you. So you’re stuck.”

  I leaned my head into the crook of his neck, and when I ran my hand over his chest, he asked, “Feel that beating? Steady and even? That’s how I feel about you. We’re steady and even. I know it’s been all quick and shit, but I’m in my thirties now. It’s about time I had some good in my life, and that goodness is you.”

  We kissed, my heart not beating one bit steadily. It thumped with pride at Jake’s last words. I was his goodness.