I Need You Here

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  She held up a hand to stop me in my tracks, and laughed, “There’s no rush, Rafe. Nothing in that apartment is mine. Liam forced me to throw out all of my belongings and to take what he gave me. So, nothing is mine. I’ll need new clothes, some new make-up, a few pairs of shoes, and maybe some costume jewelry––but nothing fancy. I can easily make do with things that are appropriate for the office. See, problem solved.”

  She turned, and looked over her shoulder, motioning me to help her unzip her wedding dress, then continued ticking things off as she went, “I already have an appointment next week with Marissa’s obstetrician. The nursery doesn’t need to be put together for at least another three months, minimum; and you have an extra bedroom in your condo that we can easily use as a nursery for now, there’s no need to find a new place right away. I don’t need anything big and fancy, all I need is you here with me, always.”

  If guests had not been waiting downstairs, I would’ve taken her on my old bed and spent hours in her arms. I had an intense need to consummate our marriage, afraid that this wasn’t real, that I was dreaming.

  We’d finished changing into our clothes when my mother knocked on the door asking to enter. She looked puzzled. “Why aren’t you both packed? I put some new clothes in the closet for Dawn. I figured the rest you could buy when you get there. You need to get going soon if you’re going to make your flight. We can’t keep the pilots waiting around on the runway forever.”

  We both looked at each other and then my mom. “Don’t stand there with your mouths open, get packing, you need to be out of here in thirty minutes.”

  My jaw dropped, and I took a breath to argue, when mom said, “This is one of our gifts to both of you.”

  She thrust a folder with tickets, trip information, and our passports, into my hand. I looked at where we were going and for how long. It was a two-week southern Caribbean cruise, and they’d booked the penthouse suite. Several excursion packages had already been purchased, to keep us entertained, not that we needed any entertainment outside of the bedroom.

  “I know it’s not as exotic a location as the Maldives, but with Dawn expecting and feeling nauseous, I thought she might want to stay closer to home, in the event you need to fly back. Marissa told us she’d had terrible nausea all through their honeymoon. I’ve already rescheduled her obstetrician appointment for the day after you return from your trip. The ship’s doctor has already been notified of potential nausea issues and has the necessary medications to treat things on board.”

  No wonder my dad was always so organized, my mom thought of everything!

  We hurriedly packed our bags, before handing them to Derrick.

  The guests all stuck around to see us off, throwing birdseed at us as we ran to the limo. I tried to find my brother and thank him for his help in setting all this up, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I finally found my father and whispered that the collar was in the safe, and that we’d do a private ceremony later when we had more time and Dawn felt better. He seemed to accept that explanation.

  I gave Dawn one final kiss, for the crowd, before we entered the limo. Once inside, I picked up the bottle of sparkling cider I found chilling in the champagne bucket and poured us a couple of glasses.

  I raised my glass to hers. “To our forever.”

  “To our forever,” she repeated.

  One month later…

  THE CRUISE HAD BEEN perfect. Dawn did have one day of sickness, but it was quickly ruled to be motion, not morning, sickness. She bounced back to devour some of the amazing food on board. By the time our two weeks were up, she’d gotten some of her curves back and finally sported a baby bump.

  I’d discovered why my mom had been in such a hurry to get us out of there. We had to fly to Puerto Rico because the ship left from San Juan. So we spent our wedding night in a beautiful hotel in Old San Juan, then boarded the ship early the following morning. However, she neglected to tell us that they were in a hurry to get to the hospital to check on Marissa.

  We later learned that my sister in-law started having pains in her lower back throughout our wedding ceremony. As she was matron of honor, she’d dismissed them as nothing, since she wasn’t due for another month, but they got worse as the evening progressed. Her water broke just before we came back downstairs, so Dane rushed her to the hospital.

  There was a message waiting for us when we arrived at the hotel in Puerto Rico. I was the proud uncle to my newborn niece named Alexandria Gabriella Prescott. They’d named her partly after my father and after my late sister. No wonder they’d kept it a secret. My niece was doing well, despite being premature. She weighed in at a little over five pounds. Both she and Marissa were doing well.

  The surprises kept coming. My father had arranged for our honeymoon to be extended a couple of weeks. He had the company jet to fly us back to Miami, where one of the country’s top plastic surgeons evaluated Dawn’s scars. To our amazement, the doctor let us know that he could remove the tattoo and return most of her skin to normal. Of course, we’d have to wait until after the baby was born; but I’d do anything to see the radiant smile that spread across her face when she found out she wouldn’t have to live with a permanent reminder of Liam’s abuse.

  The doctor’s appointments and testing took almost the entire two weeks in Miami. We stayed in a luxury hotel on the beach and even took a few days to down in Key West to sightsee. We saw a couple of cute outfits we picked up for both of my nieces. It was paradise being alone with Dawn, so much so that I didn’t want it to end.

  Upon our return, Rick picked us up from the airport and drove us to Dane’s neighborhood. He stopped a few doors down and across the street from their home, at a driveway with an electronic gate, ten-foot high, stone walls and an impressive house. Both sets of parents were outside waving to us.

  My father handed me a set of papers. "All we need are your signatures on the lines indicated, and the house is yours.”

  Dawn and I did a double take. “What?”

  He explained that Ivan and Sophia–they were going by their real names now-had sold their place in Pensacola and were looking for a small condo in the area. Their daughter, Erica, had decided to transfer down to a local university, so they wanted to live closer to both daughters and their future grandchild.

  My parents had shown them my condo and they fell in love with it instantly. They purchased my condo. That money, along with some money her parents added in as a gift, served as our down payment on the house. Wait, it got better. My parents matched that down payment so the mortgage was only forty-eight percent of the total price of the house. I looked at the paperwork and realized that I could easily cover the remaining costs, have money left over for furniture, and be able to trade in my motorcycle for a family car … maybe a Land Rover.

  “Is everyone sure about this? You don’t have to spend your money or give us anything, I can afford the house on my own.”

  Dad slapped me on the back. “We know, son. We all wanted to give you both a little something after everything you’ve been through. Why don’t we go inside and you can take a tour to see if you want to sign.”

  I guess my folks knew I’d love the house. Truth be told, I’d coveted this house every time I jogged past it. I’d once asked their friend, who was a realtor, to give me a tour of the place. It was everything I’d ever wanted in a home. I hadn’t made an offer because there was just me and I didn’t need this much space.

  I turned to my wife, “I’ve been on a tour of the house and love it, but I’ll only sign if you like it and can see us being happy here.”

  We walked into the house and I was completely floored. I guess my parents thought it was a done deal. My living room furniture was already arranged in the smaller sitting area near the front door. My kitchen table sat in the nook. I could only guess that the kitchen had all my items and food moved over and we had two bedrooms to sleep in upstairs.

  I looked over at Dawn and found her mesmerized by the size and design of the place. The
upstairs was mainly bedrooms with a small TV sitting area close to the stairs and overlooked main room below. Downstairs was an exercise room, a small library, and an office. The kitchen opened out to a covered patio deck, which housed a bar-b-que grill, an outdoor mini-refrigerator, and a sound system that could be enjoyed while relaxing by the pool. It had a smaller guest house than Dane’s place, but I didn’t need the extra room. Maybe we could turn one of the rooms or the guest house into a playroom for the two of us, pending Dawn’s desire to delve further into the BDSM lifestyle.

  I watched as she ran up the stairs and popped her head into each bedroom. I knew the house didn’t need to be redecorated. Its classic Italian architecture reminded me of my Aunt Rosa’s house in Italy. She stopped at the top of the stairs, a huge smile on her face –– I knew the house was ours.

  We’d just finished signing the paperwork, when my brother came through the door carrying a diaper bag and holding a couple bottles of non-alcoholic champagne, while Marissa pushed a baby stroller. My niece was the spitting image of my sister, Gabriella. Dane had insisted on calling her “Lexi”, but she’d always be Gabi to me. He told me later that they’d decided on the name, since Gabi had led them to each other the night Dane almost died.

  I looked around as everyone talked and drank. Dawn came up and settled into my side, offering to take our niece from my arms. I could easily picture her holding our own child soon. Yes, this was home. I had everything I Needed Here!

  I Need You Too, Need #4

  Coming Fall 2015

  Ethan

  MY EYES FELT HEAVY and my brain no longer processed what was in front of me. Where was I? What was I doing? I fought the urge to sleep and realized I was behind the wheel of a car. Wake your ass up, Ethan. Something’s wrong, and you need to pull over before you have an accident.

  I knew I had to pull over, but I couldn’t make my hands or feet respond. My body didn’t feel right. I needed help. I needed to call 9––. What number did I need to call again?

  I took my foot off the gas, trying to guide the car over to the side of the road. So sleepy.

  I heard a woman scream, the sound of crunching metal, and then––nothing.

  I screamed at the top of my lungs, wanting to wake up from this nightmare, but felt held down by some invisible force. My body thrashed, trying to break free of whatever bonds that held me. I continued to yell, “Let me go! Leave me alone!” My voice was hoarse from its efforts.

  Two warm and inviting hands gripped my shoulder, shaking it. “Wake up, Ethan!”

  My mind responded instantly with, “Leave me alone.” It’d become my automatic response to everything, my ability to push people from my life, so I could wallow in my guilt.

  “The accident was not your fault, Ethan. It was that asshole, Tom’s fault.” The angel’s voice assured. Who kept shaking me? Why?

  “No! It’s all my fault.” My lungs felt heavy and full, making breathing difficult. I could feel panic rise within me.

  A strange noise came from somewhere. I couldn’t identify it. I felt the cool rush of water over my skin and began to cough, finally waking me from my dreams, as I sat upright in bed.

  I was soaked to the bone. “What the fuck?”

  I reached over to my nightstand and turned on the lamp, only to see Marjorie, looking like an angel sent down from above, but I didn’t deserve anything heavenly. I should be in Hell. Well, at least my dreams were torture.

  Her arms were crossed, making her breasts more pronounced and they caught my eye. She was a beauty, but all I could ever be with her was friends. Neither one of us was in any shape to be anything more to the other. She had just gone through a nasty divorce and I was still plagued by the guilt of having taken Gabi Prescott’s life.

  I still couldn’t understand how her entire family, with exception of her husband, had found it within their hearts to forgive me. I know Tom had intentionally slipped GHB into my drinks, but still I should’ve pulled over the moment I felt that something was wrong.

  “Are you going to sit there staring into space all night, or are you going to finally acknowledge that I’m here?” Marjorie didn’t like to beat around the bush, she got right to the point.

  I looked over at her and gave her the once over, realizing all she had on was a t-shirt that only fell to mid-thigh. I couldn’t move or she’d see the wood I now sported, despite the cold water she’d tossed on me. She was definitely hot, but way out of my league.

  I ran a hand through my messy hair. “What are you doing at my place? And why don’t you have more on?”

  “I still have the key to Dane’s old place in case of emergencies. I heard you screaming in your sleep. You’d been screaming for about five minutes before I finally got here. I didn’t have time to grab any extra clothing. I wanted to get to you to make sure you were all right before you woke half the damn building!”

  “Thank you, but you didn’t have to throw water on me.” I snapped back at her.

  “I had no choice. You wouldn’t wake up when I shook your shoulders this time. It was either that, or have one of our neighbors call the cops on you.”

  She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder, her touch sending a shock right to my balls. Her face was full of concern. “They’re getting worse, Ethan. When are you going to admit that you need help to get over all this?”

  “Look, I don’t want to feel guilty anymore, or feel like I should have done something differently. I’ve already tried talking with a psychiatrist and it didn’t work. The guy gave me some sleeping pills and told to get in touch with my inner self. Well my inner self wants to beat the shit out of my outer self for being a dick.”

  Her arms wrapped around me. “I know you hate when I hug you, but you need one.”

  No one at work, and no one in the Prescott family, knew how fucked up the two of us really were. We’d hit it off as friends, recognizing each other’s pain, and commiserating about what the other was going through. How were we ever going to heal? Were we both too far gone?

  Her arms dropped away from me and she took a seat on the side of the bed. Her t-shirt rode higher on her thighs, and I was certain I’d never be able to leave the bed as long as she was around.

  Her hand came down on top of my thigh. God have mercy on me, please. Do you have tempt me? “I feel your pain, Ethan. You know how I suffer with my own issues. A regular shrink didn’t help me either, but I’ve been talking with Carol down at the club lately and she’s showing me some new ways to deal with things.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to distract me from the impure thoughts I was having about my friend. “Fine. I’ve had you, Dane, Rafe, and now Nate, bugging me to talk with Kent. I don’t know if I can handle any of that kinky shit they do there, but I understand that he’s helped them with some of their issues. Just text me his number and I’ll give him a call.”

  “Are you going to be okay for now?”

  I nodded. “I think so. Thanks for waking me before it got too bad. You’re a good friend, Marjorie.”

  She stood up and hugged me again. What was it with her tonight, being all touchy feely? “I care about you, you big lug. And I need you.”

  I felt overwhelmed by her admission and tried to ignore the possible implications. Could it be that she needed me as a friend, as someone who’d listen to her, or did she need something more? Don’t put the cart before the horse, man. If you’re interested in tapping that, you need to wait it out and see what she wants.

  I told my mind to shut up. I admitted to myself that I assuredly wanted to tap her ass, but I also knew it was out of the question. The Prescotts said that they didn’t blame me for Gabriella’s death. Right, but I’m fairly certain they wouldn’t welcome me into the family, either. I was broken and still seeking forgiveness, a forgiveness that might never come from the two people I needed to hear from most – Jackson and myself.

  I waved my hand in the air, shooing her away. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t need all this mushy shit. You shoul
d go back to bed and get as much sleep as you can tonight; we only have a few more hours before we have to get ready for work. Can I catch a ride with you again today?”

  “Sure. I’ll let myself out, so you can clean up.” She quirked her lips, waggled her eyebrows and winked, seeming to focus on my crotch. I looked down and instantly grabbed a pillow to place on top of my obvious erection.

  She turned to go, and waving airily called, “Goodnight, Ethan.”

  After she’d closed the door, I replied, “Goodnight, Marjorie. I Need You Too, more than you will ever know.”

  I would like to thank, first and foremost, all my followers, fans, bloggers, and friends. Without all of you, my books would not be possible. Keep spreading the word. Hugs to all!

  To my family, you all mean the world to me, especially putting up with my crazy writing hours. You believe in my dreams and that means everything to me. You are my life!

  To Mat Wolf, for being the perfect look for Dane’s younger brother, Rafe. Your look is amazing and helped to inspire the character. I look forward to working with you on this book and maybe others.

  To Eric David Battershell. Our paths crossed when I was looking for inspiring book covers and now look what you’ve inspired with your images. The whole Need Series is because of your talented photos. Thank you for your inspirational words of wisdom and for believing in me as an author. I look forward to working on many book projects together in the coming future.

  To my formatter Stacey Blake. You rock! I love your work!

  To my good friend and trusted beta reader, Mia Mincheff. Your words of wisdom, your belief in my dreams, your encouragement, and your friendship mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I’m thankful that our paths crossed. You help make me a better writer. I love ya!

  To Angela Clark Jarvis. We grew up in the same town, were friends in school, and now life has our paths crossing again with a shared love of books. I value your insights and advice as a beta reader, but more importantly I value our friendship. Thank you for sharing in my journey as an author. I can’t wait for your book to come out!