North Star - The Complete Series Box Set

by Tracey Ward

  When the door slammed behind Laney, I closed my eyes. I breathed slowly and evenly as I listened to the familiar sounds of my apartment. The traffic outside. The click of my air conditioning turning on. The faint hum given off by my weird little lamp pointed at my easel.

  I told myself not to cry. She’d forgive me someday. That’s what sisters did. They were honest with each other and they hurt each other but they always came back to one another because they were family. Blood. Bound to each other for their entire lives. I hurt her today but she’d hurt me before and we were still alive. We were all still here.

  I opened my eyes to find Kellen still sitting there. He hadn’t moved since she left. His face was a painful shade of red on the side where she’d slapped him but he didn’t seem to notice. He stared straight ahead, his eyes black as midnight. Dark as death.

  I rose from the couch slowly and went to the kitchen. In the freezer I grabbed a bag of frozen corn and a damp towel which I brought back to the living room, not surprised to find him still sitting exactly as he had been when I left. After wrapping the bag in the wet towel, I knelt in front of him. I avoided his eyes.

  He winced slightly when I pressed the compress to his face but then he stilled and so did I.

  I could hear my blood rushing in my veins.

  We sat like that for a good five minutes. Me on my knees in front of him, the cold against his skin, him with his eyes on the far away, infinite horizon in his mind where he despised himself and the limitations he faced, ones placed on him by people long dead and gone. Or people who were never there to begin with. Laney may have known what he lacked, but I knew very well what he was. I knew him through and through, so as he sat there inside himself where she thought he was hollow and heartless, I understood he was fuller than any man had any right to be.

  He was full of hate. It didn’t leave a lot of room for anything else.

  When my knees began to ache and my palm was frozen, I started to stand. His hand clamped down on my wrist. I looked up in surprise to find him staring down at me intently, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  He pulled me forward slowly until I knelt between his knees and his face hovered over mine. Then he kissed me slowly. His hands gripped my face as he pulled me toward him and he traced my lips with his tongue. Before I could react he was moving lower. His hands went to my shoulders, arching my body back until he was holding me up. His lips brushed across my cheek to my ear where he placed a series of kisses along the edge then back behind near my hair. I was struggling to breathe as his breath poured over my skin leaving me flushed and unsteady.

  “Kel?” I whispered shakily.

  “I have to know,” he murmured, his lips still moving along my skin. Skimming down the column of my neck to my collar bone.

  “You have to know what?”

  His tongue slid wet and hot along my collar until he reached the soft tissue of my shoulder. I inhaled sharply, nervously, as I felt his teeth graze my skin then sink in gently. His hands tightened on my arms.

  “If I can survive you,” he hoarsely whispered.

  He moved fast as lightening, like a blur in the ring in the lights and the ropes. He lifted me off the ground as though I weighed nothing and threw me beneath him on the couch. He hovered over me, staring down at me with such a mix of heavy and hollow that I felt my stomach drop out with fear.

  I didn’t know him like this. I don’t think he did either. It was something different, something strange. A mixing of his worlds of love and want and hate and loss. He was the man I knew, the one I loved, but he was also in the ring, in the zone and the empty. He was Jekyll and Hyde warring for the same space in the same moment in time and I was suddenly shaking scared of who would win and who would walk away forever.

  I was also damn ready to find out.

  I spread my legs and pulled down on his hips, settling him against me. He lowered himself gently, his eyes always on mine and I sighed when his incredible weight was crushing me from top to bottom. He pushed the air out of my lungs and I let everything else go with it. I stopped worrying and wondering. I stopped wanting and I started taking.

  I moved my hands, fingers trembling, up his sides, taking his shirt with me. He watched me with a blank stare until my palms skimmed up under his arms then over his shoulder blades. He reached back with one hand, grabbed his shirt and yanked it quickly over his head. It disappeared somewhere in the room as his mouth found mine again and his hands began to roam. Wherever they went they found flesh, pulling and gripping, nearly tearing any clothing that dared to be in his way. He was fast, so fast, and when I lay naked and burning with chills beneath him, he went slow. So slow.

  Kellen found a condom in his wallet. I watched in a haze as he slipped it on, memorizing the unparalleled glory of his naked body as he did. He was tan, dark, rolling with muscle and so damn broad and big that he eclipsed the world when he laid over me again.

  He kissed me once more, long and deep, then he buried his face in my neck, unable to hold my eyes. He was hard and hot against me, pressing gently, hesitantly, at my entrance. He hovered there so long I started to worry. I started to scream inside, begging him to do it. To take that next step, go beyond that wall, and finally let us see what was on the other side.

  With a shuddering breath he surged forward, sliding inside me easily. I was wet. I was ready, my pussy absolutely weeping for him, and still he surprised me. I gasped at the sudden fullness. At the incredible weight of him on top of me and inside of me. He was everywhere. He was everything. He was the only thing holding me down, keeping me from lifting from the world out into the stars and the frozen black above us. He was saving me, he was killing me. He was guiding me, grounding me and sending me so far out of myself I could see forever.

  My fingertips dug into the muscles of his back as they rolled and flexed the way they did when he worked the bag. When he found his rhythm and the world went away. When all he knew was the air in his lungs, the beat of his heart and the feel of his skin.

  He was slow at first. Deliberate. But then a momentum started to build and his breath burst in short gasps that made him hurry. It made him harder.

  I whimpered. I moaned. I cried and pulled at him with every muscle I had. I hugged him, clawed at him, arced as high as I could to feel that delicious friction of his chest rubbing against my tense nipples. I squirmed underneath him as he changed his angle, took hold of my ass to lift me higher, to drive in deeper, and crushed my clit with a blinding force that made me faint.

  I opened my eyes wide, staring at the ceiling and watching it blur around the edges. His breath broke in my ear, going staccato and strained as words spilled from his mouth in an unintelligible stream. I would never know what he said as French, English and all of the things both bright and dark that made him him poured from his lips and dripped in my ear like poison that would leave me shattered and broken from the inside out, irreparable for the rest of my life. It was his smile in the kitchen. His hands, his hair, his voice, his eyes, his laugh. His love, the only way he knew how.

  I heard my name, felt his body stiffen against me, a hoarse groan, and his hand in my hair so gentle it sent me over the edge until I was whimpering, quivering in my spine and vibrating with his energy. The world went wild, swimming over my eyes as the tide roared in then rushed out, leaving me stripped and bare, looking up into his eyes. His face was a blur through the sea salt pouring over me, down my cheeks and onto his hand still in my hair.

  The wave had washed us clean, stolen everything, even our breath and I knew this moment was too big and bold to think about while I was still inside it. It would be like trying to understand the Grand Canyon while nestled deep inside a cave in one of its valleys. You’d never appreciate the scope of it, the horrifying, sheer magnitude of it until you had some distance. Until you stood at the edge on a clear day and looked down at that valley, remembering how safe you’d felt inside the grandiose labyrinth stretching for miles around you, hiding and devouring you. But once you kn
ew, once you saw it for what it truly was, it would humble you. Astonish you. Set you free.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We recovered from the moment in a less awkward way than I expected. He stayed with me as I waited for the tears to dry up. He pressed his forehead to mine, the tips of our noses together as he whispered words I don’t remember. Ones that made me smile. Maybe they weren’t words at all. Maybe it was just his tone and the tickle of his breath on my skin. Either way, the tears dried up and the trembling in my limbs subsided.

  He stayed the night. That was huge and I told him it wasn’t necessary but he said he wanted to, something I almost believed. What I fully believed was that he wanted to want to, though the two things were painfully different. We didn’t speak much, but he was there. He was right there with me in the aftermath and we climbed into my bed together after an evening of watching TV, ordering in pizza and drinking beer, things that now felt odd in how familiar they were, with a vague air of… okay. We weren’t great, we weren’t terrible. We were just okay. I hoped that would be enough.

  In the morning I woke up alone. There was a note on the pillow that I didn’t care to read but I felt I owed him the benefit of the doubt, so I did.

  Gone to the gym early.

  Call you later.

  -Kel

  I crumpled it up in my fist until it poked with its edges like daggers in my soft palm, then I tossed it in a lazy arc across my room.

  So this was it, I thought glumly. It wasn’t the end, I wasn’t that down on us, but it was what the retreat looked like. I was on the other side of the looking glass watching Kellen walk away, getting smaller and smaller until he was nothing but a spot on the canvas and I couldn’t remember how his chin was shaped. All I could do now was hope he found his way back.

  That afternoon, while my phone sat predictably silent on the coffee table, I sketched. It was of Kellen, of course it was, and he was walking away. It was him from the back with his head slightly turned, almost looking over his shoulder but never committing to it fully. It was an effort, a yearning, but it wasn’t real enough to bring him fully around. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his shoulders up and angry, but the side of his face was lost in shadow. I stared at it after I worked on it for an hour and I realized something. I’d sketched and painted Kellen countless times over the years, but one thing was always the same. I never fully showed his face.

  Three days later, without a word from him or Laney, I sat in my apartment alone staring at that sketch. I should have put it away or torn it up, but I left it out on my easel so I could see it and feel like I understood. Maybe even a little like I was okay with it. I was okay with the waiting. I was good at it by now.

  My phone rang on the table, vibrating and ringing at the same time like it was all hopped up on crack and candy. I didn’t bother looking at the caller ID. I knew who it wasn’t.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “What’s up?” Sam said happily. “Are you working today?”

  “I wasn’t scheduled to but I think I’ll go in. Nothing else to do. May as well make some money.”

  “You okay? You sound down.”

  I looked at the charcoal I’d done with its deep shadows, shady inner city backdrop and all around morose feeling.

  “I might be a little down.”

  “You want me to turn that frown upside down?”

  “Depends what you have in mind.”

  “I got us tickets to ComiCon.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did,” she said smugly. “Two of them. If you’re too busy I can go alone or sell the other ticket…”

  “I’m in, I’ll go. Don’t sell it. I know you’re messing with me but seriously, for real, I’ll murder you if you lose or scalp my ticket. I’m in.”

  Sam laughed, the tinny sound of it coming over though my phone and making me smile.

  “Alright, but you can’t go to work today. Let’s do something fun. Pull you out of whatever funk you’ve landed yourself in.”

  I sighed, leaning back into the chair with a thud. “Have I ever told you that you are the greatest of friends?”

  “Yes, but one never tires of hearing such things. Get dressed. I’ll be there in ten.”

  I hung up my phone without looking away from the drawing. It held me, even without eyes. It was watching me, even as it was leaving.

  I met up with Sam at the food court in the mall where we split a massive platter of cheese fries and people watched. It was one of my favorite things to do. Like going to the zoo but for adults. It was better than hitting up the local Walmart. That was more like going to a petting zoo at a shady street fair where all the animals had frothy mouths and patchy fur. The llama is actually a goat but no one wants to get close enough to make sure because he’s wearing a tutu and a G-string, his face a lump of crazy.

  “So what’s got you down?” Sam asked between mouthfuls.

  “Guess.”

  “Kellen.”

  I tapped my nose, the international charades symbol for ‘correct’.

  “Go ahead and say it,” I told her.

  Her brow pinched together. “Say what?”

  “That it’s always Kellen bringing me down. That I should move on. I should let it go. It’s never going to work out.”

  “Whoa. You are lower than I thought you were.”

  “Just say it,” I insisted.

  I suddenly realized I wanted to hear it. I wanted someone to tell me to quit because it was a lost cause and it always had been. I didn’t know if I believed it, I didn’t know what I’d do if they said it, but I felt like it was time someone did. Someone other than Laney with her biased opinion and bitter tongue.

  Sam shook her head, picking up another fry. “I’m not going to say that because it’s not true. Kellen is not always bringing you down. He makes you happier than anyone else on the planet, even me and I’m your hero.”

  “That’s true, you are,” I said, grinning affectionately at her black clothes, white hair and myriad of piercings.

  “And I don’t think it will never work out. I think timing is a bitch and it hasn’t been kind, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth the wait.”

  “We had sex,” I blurted out, staring at the cheese going cold and forming a thin, waxy film on its surface. I wanted to poke at it, swirl it around to mix it with the rest and make it new again. I wanted to help it. Hide the blemishes.

  Cheese was making me sad. I was pretty sure I was losing my mind.

  “When?”

  “Three days ago. He stayed the night but he was gone in the morning. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  She winced. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, shit. You’re in it now, huh?”

  I chuckled. “Really? Cause I feel like I’ve been tossed out of it, whatever it actually was.”

  “It’s the love of your life,” she told me matter-of-fact.

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s insane coming from you.”

  “What? I can’t believe in true love and fairy tales and all that mess?”

  I paused, my fingers dipped in the cheese I lamented, and I eyed her shrewdly. “There’s a guy.”

  “No, there’s not!”

  “Why are you shouting?”

  “There’s no guy. Shut up.”

  I grinned. “Methinks she doth protest—“

  “I said shut up, Shakespeare.”

  “You do know that I know that there’s a guy so there’s no reason to keep pretending no one knows there’s a guy. Cause there’s a guy. I know it.”

  “Why are you saying know so much?”

  “Why are you evading the question?”

  “Because I’m embarrassed,” she hissed. “He’s sweet and successful and a freaking banker of all things. And he’s funny and he… Jen, he likes to surf. And I like to watch him do it. He gets out on those waves all wet and shiny and he stands on his board as he glides over the
m like Poseidon in a Calvin Klein ad for eau de sex spray. I swear to God, the world goes black and white for a minute as I watch him. He walks to a soundtrack in my head!” She grimaced. “It. Is. Humiliating.”

  I smiled at her, feeling suddenly so happy inside I could hardly stand it.

  “You’re in love,” I told her, my voice hushed with awe.

  She slammed her head down on the table and moaned, “I know.”

  “That’s good.”

  She rolled her head to look at me. “He’s a typical California boy, though. And he’s clean cut and he goes to work in a suit. And he’s good at it! He reminds me of my dad, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Your dad is a great guy.”

  “But this is everything I didn’t want.”

  “No,” I told her, still smiling at her agony over this amazing thing, “it’s everything you thought you didn’t want.”

  “Ick.”

  I laughed at her. “Well, I’m happy for you even if you’re not. What’s his name?”

  She buried her face again, falling silent.

  “Sam,”

  “His name is Carter.”

  “It’s nice.”

  “It’s pretentious.”

  I snorted. “So is Samantha.”

  “Which is why I go by Sam,” she grumbled, sitting up straight and looking pretty morose for a woman in love.

  “Then call him Car. Who cares? If he’s a good guy and you love him, why would you worry about his name?”

  “I’m not,” she said, moving her finger through a small scattering of salt that had dropped on the table. “I’m worried he’ll want me to be more like him.”

  “More like him how?”

  “More mainstream.”