by C. M. Owens
“You mean you have to make her even worse before you even attempt to make her better. None of you fucking care about her. I shouldn’t have ever agreed to leave her in that fucking place. From a psych hospital to an emergency room. How is this fucking helping?”
The voices drift off as I continue to stare at the ceiling, counting every dirty spot it has and growing increasingly agitated when I lose count. They should have given me a clean ceiling instead of a dirty one.
My heartrate climbs when I lose count for the third time, and the itch to find relief grows to be suffocating. Tears start falling from my eyes as my gaze traces the dirty spots again, counting frantically, but when I lose count once more, a frustrated scream tears through my lips as I fight the restraints holding my arms to the bed, feeling helpless and trapped.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten… Is that one eleven or was it the one I counted for eight?
Another scream rips free as I struggle harder, wanting to get up and mark them off as I count them so I can stop losing count. My body shakes as more frustration wells inside me, almost manifesting in palpable knots.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…
My body starts to convulse when I lose count again, and the monitor beside me goes wild as the door flings open.
“What’s happening to her?” someone demands, but I’m too busy trying to find my count again.
One, two, three, four, five…
“Her heartbeat is too fast. She’s seizing! I need—”
“Mika!”
I jerk awake, sucking in a painful breath as Chase shakes me gently, staring at me with wide, horrified eyes. “Mika,” he says softer as my heartbeat drums in my ears, matching its beat in my dream… In my memory.
Chase runs his hand along my cheek, brushing away the sweat-damp hair on my face, as I pant for air. I feel my heart slow down, catching up to the present instead of beating in the past.
“Fuck, baby. What the hell were you dreaming? You were screaming and counting.”
Chase hovers over me, searching my eyes for answers. Instead of giving him anything, I pull him down by the back of the neck and kiss him. Hard. Seeking relief in his touch is dangerous, but I need it, and I want him.
He groans into my mouth like he’s torn about what to do, but I keep kissing him, and he doesn’t pull away. He moves his entire body over mine, settling between my legs, as I lose myself to him and let him chase away the sickening memories.
“Mika,” he says hoarsely, breaking the kiss as I grind against him. “What’s going on, baby? What was that dream?”
My breaths are still harsh and labored, but I stare up into his concerned eyes, even though the darkness hides their beautiful color.
“Just make it stop,” I whisper, repeating his words from so long ago when the roles were reversed and I was the one chasing away his nightmares.
His mouth comes back down on mine, and he tears my panties away, moving his body so he can get them off me completely. When he goes for my shirt, I grab his wrists, stopping him.
He breaks the kiss again and leans back.
“This comes off,” he says without letting me argue, pushing it up and over my head even as I cringe.
When his hands slide over my middle, I know he’s feeling the scars, and it shatters the confidence I had ten seconds ago. But when his lips come back to mine, I forget anything else exists and he lifts my hips, angling me against him.
He grinds against me, and nothing but his boxers separate us, giving us a thin barrier of torture. Reaching between us, I slip my hand inside the annoying boxers and grab him, feeling his hard length against my hand. He thrusts against my hold and groans again before shoving his boxers off and kicking them away.
He forces my hands up above my head as he devours me, and I feel the tip of his erection pushing inside as my breath freezes in my lungs and the kiss stops. He leans up, watching me as he slowly pushes forward, finding out I’m ready just from kissing.
It doesn’t take too much to leave me ready right now. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anyone’s touch. Couple that with the fact he’s the only person I’ve ever wanted touching me, and it’s like my body is on sensory overload.
He pushes in deeper, stretching me, and a whimper-moan leaves my lips. With one hard roll of his hips, he sinks all the way in, and I swear my entire body trembles just from the connection.
“Fuck,” he groans into my neck as he buries his face there. “Tell me you’re on the pill,” he whispers.
There’s no point in lying or telling the truth. “I’m safe,” I tell him quietly.
“Thank fuck,” he says against my neck before rocking his hips again, and I make some strangled, embarrassing sound that proves it’s been too long.
He shifts up onto one elbow, and his eyes find mine in the dark room, holding my gaze as he rocks in and out, setting a slow, torturing rhythm. My hands slide up his firm chest, and one of my hands settles over the bald eagle there, clutching it like it’s mine.
My other hand slides around his neck, digging into his flesh as he drives in and out of me with steady, measured, incredible thrusts. My head tilts back when the sensations wash over me too soon, and my body arches against him, trying to hurry his rhythm when I start rocking against him.
He steadies my hips with one hand, but he jerks me to him as he thrusts in, and it’s the end of me. I shatter and break apart, feeling the explosive orgasm in my stomach unfurl into a rapturous, mind-numbing climax that has me crying out his name and cursing him at the same time.
His thrusts quicken, drawing out the intensity of everything going on inside me at once, and I continue to clench around him as he drop his face to my neck again. When my name rumbles through his lips, my eyes roll back in my head, practically getting high from the way he clings to me and stills at the deepest point.
My legs quiver with aftershock-like tremors, and just his breath against my neck is giving me chills against the overly sensitive flesh of my body. Limply, I run my fingers through his hair, as he holds me to him, wrapping around me the way he always did when we were kids who were trying to figure all this out.
“You were right,” I whisper softly.
“What?” he mumbles, sounding sleepy against me as my grin spreads.
“You’ve definitely gotten better at this.”
His throaty chuckle is muffled against my neck, and I feel the vibrations of it all the way to my core. My heart clenches in my chest, and I stare up at the ceiling, questioning all the possibilities of a better future.
Once upon a time, we were on different ends of this spectrum. I wish I could see a future where this is all works out to be a fairytale ending, but in the end, I know it’s not possible until I’m better. If I’m ever better.
And Chase is the one who deserves better than I can ever give him.
Now I know exactly how he felt all those years ago, and my heart hurts twice as much as it did back then. When a tear slips down my cheek, Chase kisses my neck, still holding onto me.
I guess I can love him while it lasts. I could use just a little light in the darkness for a change. Even if it is selfish.
Chapter 33
CHASE
“You sure you don’t want to just stay in and cook something?” I ask her, bending over to kiss her neck as she slips into a pair of shorts. “Obviously I’m offering to cook, not telling you to cook.”
“Positive. Hate cooking these days,” she says tightly, but her entire body is relaxed against mine.
“I said I’d cook,” I tell her, grinning when her breath hitches just because I’m kissing a path down her neck.
She woke up at two in the morning, terrified, and for the first time ever, I got to chase her nightmares away like she did mine. Okay, so not exactly the same way. Before we ever had sex, she would kiss me and curl against me. Just letting me hold her was enough to stave off the dark shadows in my mind.
Before we ever kissed,
she’d hold me to her and run her fingers through my hair while I listened to her voice. I was usually stuck half in the nightmare, unsure of what she was saying, but slowly I’d come out of it, and she’d be talking about something completely random. It almost makes me laugh just thinking back to how easy it was for her to change my life three months a year by simply talking.
She never acted the least bit fazed when I jerked awake and was panicking or screaming as a kid. She never freaked out when I woke up in a cold sweat and clung to her as a teen. She never freaked out when I woke her up and took her as a sixteen-year-old who was desperately losing myself inside her just to forget my reality.
Last night was the first time I’ve ever been her light though. Then we spent the rest of the night getting reacquainted with each other’s bodies. She’s definitely more into it now than when we were kids, and she blew my mind back then. It felt good to blow her mind for once.
The only thing that bothers me is the fact I don’t even know what shadows haunt her dreams.
“You want to talk about what your dream was?” I ask her.
She shifts out of my arms and turns to face me, forcing a smile.
“Not yet. Eventually, but not now.”
Groaning, I turn to follow her out of the room, jogging down the stairs behind her as she goes to grab her purse.
“Mika, you can tell me anything.” The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them, realizing I just took a step back in time instead of being in the present.
She turns to face me with sad eyes. “Twelve years ago, I could have told you everything. And I would have. You were my best friend, Chase. Things changed. Now I can’t just spill my darkest secrets to you. We can’t pick up where we left off as though these past twelve years didn’t happen. It doesn’t work that way.”
She seems like she’s repeating something she’s rehearsed at length with a calm, detached tone I don’t like. Yeah, I realize I forgot momentarily we aren’t the same people we were. But it’s almost as though she’s reminding herself more than she’s reminding me.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I say on a sigh. “We can take this slow.”
Apparently I have to earn her trust all over again, and I get that.
“Slow,” she repeats while looking down. “It’s not about slowing down, Chase. It’s about enjoying it while it lasts.”
“What does that mean?” I ask her, but before I know it, she’s walking up to me, and my question becomes forgotten when she pulls me down and draw me into a kiss that has me forgetting how to think.
The desperate way she clings to me like I’m going to just disappear takes me back to a time when I was a desperate kid clinging to her and the peace she represented… The hope she offered. She saved my life, and now I feel like she’s drowning but won’t let me save her.
That’s my own fault, even if what I did was to save her back then. I wasn’t around when she needed me because I was too busy pushing her away.
Now I’m in the dark, and she’s not letting me in.
“I still haven’t seen your tat,” I tell her, smiling against her lips.
She smiles back and turns around. I pull her shirt up, grimacing when she immediately covers her stomach, despite the fact I can’t see it from back here. My eyes drop down to the eagle at the small of her back that is flying alone. I trace the lines, feeling a sadness in my chest.
“It looks good. Not as good as it could if I had done it, but it’s nice,” I tell her jokingly to lighten the air.
She snickers softly while pulling her shirt down, and I tilt her chin up as she turns around.
“It needs a companion though.”
Her eyes sadden like I’ve said something wrong, and I internally curse myself for pushing too soon again.
“I got one on my arm too,” I tell her, pulling back so she can study it.
“This sleeve is an eagle?” she asks, confused. It takes her a second to realize it’s half eagle half snake. The head creeps up onto my hand, and the wings turn into scales as it slithers up my arm.
Half of it represents her. Half of it represents the coldness that took place in my life after she was gone.
Her eyes meet mine, and she forces a smile. “Guess we both have scars,” she says softly, getting the meaning of it without me having to explain.
“At least you know all of mine.”
She doesn’t break eye contact, and for a second, I think she’s finally going to tell me everything. But she doesn’t. Instead, she turns and grabs her purse.
“Come on. I want a rematch in bowling.”
My lips twitch, but there’s something that concerns me. She can’t seem to bowl at all anymore, and I watch her as she walks toward the door. Her walk is sexy, but it’s completely different from her walk back then. It’s not just the years that changed it, considering her entire posture is different. She used to lean forward a little when she walked. Now she stands straight. It’s almost like she’s an entirely different person with all her new mannerisms and dark secrets.
But when she turns and smiles at me, she’s still the same girl I fell in love with so long ago. Until I look into her eyes and see the hopeless despair. It’s almost like looking at my reflection back in a time when I was stuck with no future.
Nothing makes sense.
Chapter 34
CHASE
“Your mother is a whore. I bet you don’t even know who your real daddy is,” Heath says, spitting out blood as I shake out my throbbing fist.
He really wants me to kill him. All this because his mommy and daddy are getting a divorce. Apparently he thinks I give a damn about his sorry excuse for a problem.
“At least my mother gets paid for fucking your sick, disgusting father. Your mom fucks my dad for free,” I tell him, smirking when he turns an angry shade of red. I really like pissing him off. “I think I hear her scream his name at least twice a week nowadays. You sure you know who your real dad is? We could be brothers…”
He jumps up and charges me, and my fist slams into his side twice before my knee connects with his face. He’s thrown back and hits the ground with a hard thud that has everyone going silent around us who has gathered in the halls.
“Nah,” I say, laughing when he starts to cry. “No brother of mine would cry like a bitch when he takes a beating.”
“Chase James!”
Ah, fuck.
Turning around, I see Mr. Johnson stalking toward me. Looks like another week or two of detention.
The second we’re in his office, he shuts the door. “Suspended for one week,” is what I hear, but I don’t give a damn. That’s better than detention. Just means I get to hang out at the lake for a week or maybe pick up some extra hours at the diner.
“Let me guess, Heath doesn’t get anything again. Right?” I ask bitterly.
His eyes turn to angry slits as he glares at me.
“Heath isn’t the troublemaking little shit of a thorn in my side. Be glad Milton Dalton has an interest in you. Because of his relationship with the superintendent, I’m not allowed to expel you. In my opinion, you’re nothing more than a waste of breath and time.”
Milton. Should have known. No wonder I’m still in school. I don’t know why he likes me either, but it makes me glad at least someone besides my girl cares enough to have my back.
Summer will be coming soon, and nothing else will matter. For at least three months, they can all go to hell.
Mika is asleep on my chest, and I stare up at the ceiling, feeling like I can breathe so easily that it’s almost laughable. So much of my life was spent in survival mode that I never really lived until the day my mother died.
The only time I felt alive before that day was… summer.
Dark hair is fanned over my chest in waves as she sleeps so peacefully, completely naked. I’m tempted to pry into her life to search for answers. For three days, she’s soaked me in like I used to soak her in.
It feels so fucking good, but I keep feeling
like she’s holding back, the way I always did. As though she’s waiting on everything to be taken away from her, just like I once felt.
We were many things over the years, but kindred was never one of them.
She sighs as she snuggles against me, and I hold her to me, brushing my lips across her head. Logically, I know we can’t pick up right where we left off—just like she pointed out.
Tell that to the illogical part of my brain though. It’s as though the past twelve years haven’t been missing. It’s as though the summers never stopped and life didn’t continue on. It feels like I just stepped out of the school for the last time, and the dream world we planned has finally come true.
And for once, I don’t want to hold back. I didn’t make her choose Hayden. She came back. Hell, I could go anywhere she wanted to now. There’s nothing keeping me here but her at this point. It’s always been her.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” she mumbles against my chest.
“How’d you know?” I ask her, smiling like an idiot for no reason at all.
“Your breaths aren’t as deep when you’re awake.”
“Very perceptive.”
“You have no idea.”
She yawns while rolling over, and I come down on top of her, smiling down at her as she smiles up at me.
“Come on. I want you to hang out with me at the shop today.”
“Why?” she asks sleepily.
“Because I’m pathetic and don’t want to risk you disappearing,” I tell her with a shrug, watching as she beams up at me like I’ve said something magical.
Chapter 35
MIKA
My fingers have been running through Chase’s hair for so long, and he breathes easily as I continue my pattern.
“You’re the only one who has ever done that,” he murmurs sleepily.
A smile breaks across my face, and I kiss him on the cheek. “Good.”
