Breathe Her In

by Gretchen Tubbs

  “Not at all.”

  “It’s not like that every week. Claire rallied all the troops this time. She invite you back?”

  I nod, but keep my eyes turned toward the road.

  He’s quiet for a few minutes before his next question comes out, his voice cold and low. “You ever talk to your dad?”

  “No. Not unless I’m forced to.” He turned his back on me when the two most important things in my life were taken from me. I have no reason to interact with him.

  “I have a few things I’d like to tell the bastard.” Rafe’s fingers curl tighter around the wheel, the skin around his knuckles turning white. He pulls his eyes off the road and to me for a quick glance. “You don’t need him anymore. I think that Claire just adopted you.” He shakes his head and the corner of his mouth curls up. “Claire’s affections can be judged by the amount of tears she sheds. I haven’t seen her cry like that in a while. Probably since the last kid was born into the family. She’s not letting you go anytime soon.”

  “I’m okay with that,” I whisper.

  “Me, too. I’m also okay with the fact that she wanted to keep Della tonight. I love my sister, but I’ve been dying to get you alone for days.”

  My face heats up with his simple words. “Well, you’ve got me alone.” My voice drops. “What are you planning on doing?”

  “We’ll be home in about thirty seconds. I want you naked as soon as you step through that door. Then, I’m gonna show you, in grave detail, all the things I’ve been thinking about this week.”

  “Rafe,” I whisper, my voice barely heard through the interior of the car.

  “Jesus,” he huffs out. “I haven’t even put my hands on you yet, and you’re already giving me that.”

  “What?”

  “The way you say my name when you’re turned on. It hits me straight to my soul, Eleanor.”

  “Rafe,” I breathe out again. Sometimes it just can’t be helped.

  “You’re doin’ it again, baby.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’ve missed it over the past eight years. Music to my fuckin’ ears.”

  He pulls up to the gate, punches in the security code, and hauls ass up the driveway until he reaches the back. We’re both out of the car in a flash, pushing through the back door.

  “Get them off,” he growls.

  With shaking hands, I reach behind me and slide down the zipper to my dress. I shrug my shoulders slightly forward and the dress falls, pooling at my feet, leaving me in nothing but black lace and heels. Rafe’s pressed against the door, fighting for control. It’s written all over his face, all over his taut body.

  I step out of my heels and walk toward him. The closer I get, the harder his chest rises and falls. The air in the room feels thick, charged. “Come on, Rafe. Let’s go to bed.”

  “Let me look at you,” he says, dangerously low. He’s dragging his eyes across my flesh like this is the first time he’s ever seen me. They stop when they hit my new tattoo and the heat in them flares wildly before going soft. He sinks to his knees, wraps his hands around either side of my waist, and places two gentle kisses on my skin… one on each name he inked within the flowers. I bite my lip to prevent the tears from rolling down my face.

  “Rafe.” His name is a plea on my lips. I know where this is heading, and I don’t know if I can go down this road again.

  “How did you do it?” he says softly into my flesh. “How did you look at your scars, day after day, and not fall apart?”

  Those tears that I was attempting to hold at bay decide they can’t be contained any longer and make their way down my cheeks. “I did fall apart. Every day, I felt like I was dying on the inside. I wanted to die. I would wake up each morning, and for the first few seconds, I couldn’t remember what happened. Then, it would come back, the memories hitting me tenfold, and I would pray for death. If it wasn’t for Gigi, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to me.”

  His hands clench tighter around me. “Will it ever get any easier?”

  I give him a slow nod. “Eventually, but it’ll never go away. I still think about it. Every single day. I don’t think I’ll ever forget about what we lost.”

  His eyes come up to meet mine, but he doesn’t make any move to get off the floor. His fingers dig into my flesh and I join him, kneeling between his legs.

  “Lay back, baby,” he commands. The fire in his eyes is back, burning with an intensity that wasn’t there before. I know better than to fight him on this. With his hand cradling the back of my head, I lower myself down on the living room floor, goosebumps erupting along my skin in anticipation about what’s going to happen.

  A few skilled flicks of his wrists and all of my clothes are gone. “Fuck, but you’re beautiful.” He says it with complete conviction, like he’s saying my name. I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him down to meet my mouth. He gives me a slow, wet kiss, but just when I pull him in for more, he backs away.

  Rafe crawls down my body, peppering my skin with hot kisses. When he reaches his destination, he doesn’t waste any time getting his mouth settled between my legs and driving me wild.

  My hands pull at his hair, tugging and yanking. I’m not sure if I’m trying to keep him close to me or get him stop because I don’t know if I can handle what he’s doing to me. My cries are echoing through the space, mixing with his heavy breaths and his moans. As soon as his fingers join his mouth, my hips buck off the floor and I can’t help the scream that erupts from my mouth. He stills me with an arm across my hip.

  “Don’t fight it, Eleanor. Come for me.” As soon as his husky voice says the last word and he puts his mouth back on me, a powerful orgasm rolls through me, crashing through my body. He never stops, not until the last tremors subside.

  “Please, Rafe,” I beg, tugging on his shoulder, desperate for him to fill me.

  He kisses his way back up my body, while one hand gets his pants undone. I use my foot to push them down and get them off his body. Anticipation is buzzing through my veins. I’ll never tire of Rafe entering my body, that glorious moment when we connect. But instead, he stands up and lifts me in his arms, carrying me into the bedroom.

  “I’m not fucking you on the floor, Eleanor. I need to make love to you in the bed.”

  The anticipation is almost too much to bear as he lays me on the mattress. He sinks into me, and I’m in heaven. The lamp is casting a soft glow over Rafe, and I let my eyes roam over his body, watching him move in and out of me. I let myself appreciate his beautiful form; I watch in awe as the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch and relax. His gruff moans pull my eyes from his body to his face. Our eyes locked, he goes at me harder, rougher, growling at me to come again. All he has to do is ask, and I’ll do anything he wants. It’s been like that since I first met him. I suspect it will be like that for the rest of our lives.

  A second softer, more subtle orgasm moves through me, forcing his name out into the quiet of the room. He follows right behind me; his orgasm is powerful, aggressive, and all Rafe. He rolls us to our sides, keeping us close.

  “I love you, Eleanor,” he whispers into the side of my face.

  “I love you, too, Rafe.”

  He looks at the clock on my bedside table and smiles. “Someone’s gonna be tired for school in the morning.”

  “Totally worth it.”

  “You wanna shower now or in the morning?”

  A yawn escapes before I can answer.

  “Morning,” he says. “Better set your alarm to go off a little early.” His eyes sparkle. “I never showered with you before. Things might get a little dirty before we get clean.”

  My insides clench and my heart accelerates. He laughs, obviously feeling my reaction. “Go to sleep. I just gave you some material for your dreams tonight.”

  19. Rafe

  Just as I suspected, our morning involves another round of dirtiness before we manage to get in the shower and clean up. While Eleanor gets ready for work, I make
coffee and throw together some breakfast. As I’m cleaning the mess I made, she emerges from the back of the house, dressed for work, and absolutely beautiful. If she didn’t have to leave soon, I’d rip that hot little dress right off her and show her just how beautiful I think she is.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she says, not coming any closer.

  “Like what?” I don’t have to ask, though. I know exactly what she’s talking about.

  “Like what we did this morning wasn’t enough to tide you over until later. I need to leave in five minutes.”

  “We need to leave in five minutes.”

  Her eyes narrow, and her hands go to her hips. “I can drive myself to work.”

  “I know, but I want to bring you. I want to see how Dells did last night.”

  Those big, brown eyes soften at the mention of my sister. “Okay.”

  I pull her down on my lap, enjoying the last sips of my coffee and the feel of her in my arms before we have to leave the comforts of her home. The ease in which we’ve slipped back into our relationship is something I never expected, and I hope things don’t go south. I guess with our history, though, things can’t really be rushed. We’re moving fast, but I don’t think we could take it slow, even if we tried. We’ve got eight years to catch up on.

  “Time to go,” she says, pulling me out of my head. I give her a gentle squeeze and stand up, setting her on her feet in front of me.

  When we drive into the lot at school, Eleanor lets out a groan under her breath. Her eyes are trained on a car across the way. “Who’s that?”

  “That,” she says, “is my boss Daniel and my ex Tristan.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  I can’t hold in the laugh that escapes. He’s a total fucking prick. I can tell just by looking at him. She doesn’t seem too amused by my laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “He couldn’t be further from your type.”

  “And what’s my type?”

  “Me. Just me. I’m your type.”

  “You’re being a complete ass right now.” She’s trying to sound mad, but she’s not doing a good job hiding the humor in her voice. She moves to get out of the car, but I put my arm across her body to stop her from getting out.

  “Kiss me before you leave this car, Eleanor.”

  “Still being an ass,” she mutters, but leans over and gives me a tiny peck.

  I slide my hand up her arm and wrap it around the base of her neck, keeping her close. “That’s not a kiss, baby,” I whisper against her lips, right before nipping her bottom one and taking the kiss I want. The soft moan she releases into my mouth lets me know that this was the kind of kiss she wanted, too. “There,” I tell her as I move away slowly. If it was up to me, we’d sit in the car and do this all day. “Have a good day.”

  With lips that’re swollen, cheeks that’re flushed, and eyes that’re sparkling, she hits me with a brilliant smile and gets out of the car. I watch her walk away until she disappears into the building. My eyes swing back toward the rest of the parking lot to look out for Claire and Della. All I see, though, is that asshole Tristan, leaning against his car, staring at me.

  Claire and Della arrive a few minutes after Eleanor goes inside. Della is all smiles, and Claire reassures me that she had a great night. She even went to bed early, which seems impossible after all the chocolate cake I watched her eat. Della wants Claire to walk her to class, so after a quick hug good-bye, I pull out of the lot and head back home to work on some of my pieces.

  The art show is quickly approaching, and I have a rare day off from the shop, so I’m taking advantage of the fact that I have all day to paint. Landon’s been promoting the hell out of this show, so I’m expecting to sell some pieces. I had a whole set of ideas in my head about the direction of my work, but since I found out about what Eleanor went through all those years ago, my art has taken a turn. It’s become darker, daunting, morose. I’ve sent Landon pictures of it, but he assures me that anything I paint will sell. I hope he’s right. I need to move. Della and I need a better place to live.

  I don’t know how long I stand in front of my canvas and work on my current piece, but I’m startled by the ringing of my phone. As soon as I answer, Della’s cries can be heard in the background. Eleanor is trying to explain what happened, but the longer she keeps me on the phone, the longer I’m away from my sister.

  “I’m coming to get her, baby. Try to calm her down. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” With paint all over my house and myself, I take off out the door, not giving a fuck that I’m a mess. When I get outside and remember that I’m in Eleanor’s car, though, I run back inside to change clothes. I don’t want to get paint on her seats. I change in record time and get on the road, hoping by the time I get there Eleanor has managed to calm Della down.

  I bypass the office and go straight for their classroom. Hadley’s at the door waiting for my arrival.

  “They are in the guidance counselor’s room. It’s the last door on the right, down this hallway.”

  I take off down the hall without even acknowledging her. The closer I get, the louder Della’s cries become. Nausea is churning, hot and acrid in my gut. If I could take this pain from her, I would do it in a heartbeat. I feel completely fucking helpless. My sister never came out and revealed who was hurting her. It’s probably for the best. I would be in jail for murder if I knew who touched my sister and turned her into this poor mess of a child.

  I throw open the door to the counselor’s room and find them tucked into the corner. Della is clawing her way up Eleanor’s body, thrashing, trying to get away. Her horrific screams of ‘no’ and ‘stop’ are shredding my heart. I call her name sharply, but she can’t hear anything. I haven’t seen her this far gone in a while. Episodes this violent haven’t happened since that first year she was in my custody.

  “Della,” I say harshly. “Stop it. You’re hurting Eleanor.” I pull her off Eleanor’s lap and notice claw marks and bruising on her face and neck. Fuck.

  My arms go around Della’s torso and I sit with her, locking my legs around her waist to minimize the flailing. She’s as strong as an ox when she gets like this, but I’m stronger. The more pressure I put on her, the weaker her cries and thrashes become. My eyes lock with Eleanor’s, and I watch her face fall. She was trying to be strong, but now that I’m here, she doesn’t have to be. My heart feels like it’s being ripped in two. Della’s in possession of one half and Eleanor’s got the other.

  These girls are killing me.

  “I’m okay.” Her voice is pained. I guess the angst is evident on my face. I shake my head back and forth, because this whole situation is far from okay. My sister just had a psychotic breakdown and mauled the love of my life.

  “You need to go get cleaned up,” I whisper back, trying to push past the giant lump in my throat. She scrunches her face. I don’t even think she realizes that she has bloodied nail marks maiming her face. I nod my head toward her. “She did a number on you. You need to go see about your face.”

  Shaky hands reach up to touch her face. She winces and lets out a wounded hiss when she makes contact. “Please, Eleanor,” I beg. “Go see about it.”

  “I don’t want to leave her.”

  Della is passed out. “It’s just for a minute.”

  She leaves the room, but not before she walks over and lays a gentle kiss on Della’s forehead. As soon as she’s gone, I stand up with my sister, and we take off down the hallway, my steps hurried and deliberate. I have to get out of here. This is too much to process right now. We need to get home.

  I don’t even get out of the parking lot before my phone starts going off. The ringing never stops, despite the fact that I don’t answer it. I pull up at home and get Della settled in before I man up and call a very irate Eleanor back.

  “What the fuck, Rafe? Why did you just leave like that?”

  “I had to.” I take a hard drag on my cigarette and crack open a beer, t
rying to get a hold on my temper. “In case you missed it, my sister fucking mauled your face.”

  She’s silent for a few beats. I have no idea what she’s about to say. What she does give me knocks me on my ass. “She called for me.”

  My knees go out and I sink to the ground. She needs to repeat herself, because I’m certain I misunderstood. “What did you say?”

  “She was walking with Hadley when it happened. She screamed my name and ran to me, Rafe, so I’ll take her mauling my face every day for the rest of my life if it means she’ll call my name and run to me when she feels threatened.”

  “Jesus,” I breathe out, shocked. She hasn’t said anything in years, other than her cries and pleas.

  “Is she sleeping?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m getting Hadley to bring me over after school so I can check on the two of you and pick up my car.”

  “I can get one of the twins or Claire to come watch her and I’ll come back to get you.”

  She blows out an exasperated breath. “She won’t say anything about where you live, Rafe. She’s my best friend. I don’t want you leaving Dells in case she wakes up. It’s fine.”

  This is one argument I have no chance of winning. “Alright.”

  “I’ll see you soon. I love you Rafe. I love both of you.”

  “I know baby. We love you, too.”

  I pass the next few hours painting and then cleaning up the house. I haven’t been to the grocery store in a while, so I order some take-out. Della will most likely stay asleep for the rest of the night, but I want there to be food in the house, in case she wakes up. Just as I hear Eleanor and Hadley pull into the driveway, it dawns on me that I never heard what triggered Della’s episode today. Sometimes it’s nothing, but usually we can figure out what happened moments before her breakdown.

  When I get the door open, Eleanor is coming up the porch, head down, her hair hanging around her face like a dark curtain. Hadley’s already pulling away. I try to wrap her in my arms, but she pushes past me and goes straight into the house. Following close behind, I shut the door and gently take hold of her elbow, spinning her. When she pulls her face up to meet mine, I suck in a harsh breath.