PRESTON

by Linda Cooper

  “What?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “What was her name?”

  “Becky.”

  “And you loved her?”

  “More than anything in the world.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  “We were friends in middle school. Does it really matter?”

  “No.” I shook my head and got up. “You’ll open up when you’re ready.”

  “I don’t need to open up,” he snapped.

  “Yes, you do,” I argued. “You don’t want to open up. There is a difference. You just need a little coaxing.”

  “How do you know?” he asked, tossing his head back.

  “Because I know people. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love more than anything.” It may not be the same thing, but I had an idea of what he was going through. I turned to see him staring at me, gave him a soft smile and kept walking around the room. I made my way down the hallway to the bedroom. I hadn’t noticed it last night, but there was a picture on the dresser.

  “Are you having fun looking around my place?” I hadn’t realized he’d followed me.

  “Yes.” I padded over to the dresser, picked the photo up and glanced at him.

  His entire body tensed. He stepped towards me, but it was like he was frozen.

  Blonde hair, red lips, perfect legs. “This is her, isn’t it?” I guessed he was the one beside her with blue hair. The way he held her, it was like they were friends, but he wanted more. There were three other guys in the picture.

  “Yes.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Was. She was beautiful.” I put the picture down and turned to face him. I could see the emotion all over his face. Hurt, love, loss. Pain.

  “What happened?”

  I sauntered over to the bed and sat down, watching as he took a long swig of his beer. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I gave a weak smile. Clearly he still wasn’t there yet.

  “If you say so.”

  “How long are you going to keep playing this game?”

  “What?”

  “Please.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not the first to try. I’m damaged goods, I get that. I don’t want you to save me or fix me or whatever you’re trying to do. There is a reason I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was 14. There is a reason I don’t want one. There’s a reason I go to bars to pick up girls. I have enough baggage, and it’s my baggage, I don’t need anyone else’s, and I sure as shit don’t need anyone trying to figure mine out.”

  I smirked, letting out a snort of amusement. “Okay.” I wasn’t done trying—after all I am a nosey girl—but I’d let him think I was. I pushed myself up from the bed, padded towards him and placed a kiss on his lips. “Just remember, I’m not always going to be here, and it seems to me that I’m one of the few good people who’ve entered your life. I’m not trying to ‘fix’ you; I’m just trying to get to know you. The good and the bad.”

  I pulled away from him and made for the kitchen. It wasn’t until I had already pulled two beers out of the fridge that he returned. I passed him one and opened the other for myself.

  That’s right; I was resorting to getting him drunk. Maybe then he wouldn’t be such a jerk. I swallowed dryly as I sat down at the island. Maybe this was stupid. I couldn’t force him to open up to me and clearly he didn’t want to. I shouldn’t be trying to get to know him if that weren’t what he wanted but … there was something about him. I wanted to know everything there was to know. I wanted to ask him dozens of question. I wanted to fuck him, knowing every single little thing about him.

  That was what I wanted.

  ***

  Her words echoed again and again in my head. “I’m not trying to ‘fix’ you; I’m just trying to get to know you. The good and the bad.”

  Maybe it was true. Maybe I should give her a shot. Maybe …

  I took a deep breath, placed my empty beer can on the island and reached for something a little harder, as well as two shot glasses.

  I strolled back to the island, sat across from her, poured us each a shot and slid one to her, then pulled out a quarter and handed it over. “If you get it in my glass I’ll drink, I’ll answer one of your questions. But for every one that I get in your cup, you drink and take off your clothes.”

  She grinned. “Well, this sounds fun. How do we know when someone loses?”

  “You lose when you’re naked, then we go to my bedroom and fuck.” I paused; I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face at her reaction. Clearly she liked that idea. “You win, by getting me to answer more than 10 questions. Then I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know.”

  ***

  I grinned. I won’t lie; I debated losing just so we could get to the fucking. His words had turned me on, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a boner and what he’d look like without clothes on.

  “You’re on.” I took the quarter from him and aimed for his shot glass. I missed. Priest smirked as he reached for it, and the scar on his cheek twitched.

  His aim seemed to be perfect. His grin widened as I pulled the quarter out of the shot glass, drank the whisky and stood up. Pulling my shirt over my head, I let it fall to the ground. He was three more garments away from winning, and I still hadn’t gotten an answer. Four if I counted my socks. Maybe I could get five with my shoes … and toss in my ring for six but that was desperate. Even I had to admit that. I took the quarter and tossed it towards his shot glass and this time it landed in there. I grinned.

  “What happened to Becky?” I wasn’t going to waste any time getting to the point. “And don’t just say she died.” I pointed a finger at him as he drank his shot and refilled them both.

  “She had a boyfriend for a while. They didn’t have the same ideas about things she thought were important, but she was willing to work through it … it wasn’t until she realized he wasn’t as young as he’d told her that she broke things off … he didn’t take it too well and well … he killed her.”

  I sat there in shock. What was I supposed to say to that? Because ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t cut it. Instead of saying anything, I just watched as he took another shot of his glass. I filled it back up, and he reached for the quarter on the table. He tossed it towards me. Instead of falling into the glass, it fell down my bra. I grinned. “That’s not how the game works. Hitting me with money won’t get my clothes off any faster.”

  He chuckled as I reached down there and pulled it out, careful to give him a good view of my breasts—well, better than he already had. I tossed the quarter towards his cup and landed it again.

  “Are you still in love with her?” I asked before he even fished the quarter out of the glass and took his drink.

  “Are you jealous?”

  “Again, not how the game works … but maybe I am.”

  I watched as he took the drink. I didn’t think I would be jealous if he stilled loved her, I might be jealous if he were still in love with her.

  “I love her and I always will.” It was an answer I’d expected. One I was okay with, to be honest. He poured another shot for himself before reaching for the quarter.

  He threw it at the shot glass in front of me and missed. I grinned wider as I picked it up. I missed too. Then it was on to him. Turns out I seemed to be a better shot. The quarter landed in his shot glass. He fished it out and took the shot.

  “What did you do after she passed away?”

  “I went to jail,” he stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

  I stared at him unsure of what to say next. He went to jail? “What for?”

  Priest grinned. “You’re not playing by the rules.” He reached out and took the quarter from me. This time it landed in my glass, splashing all over my bare skin. I didn’t bother standing up. Instead, I unhooked my bra and slipped out of it. His eyes widened as he stared at my breasts. He seemed focused on my pierced nipple more than anything as I fished the quarter out of my drink and took my shot. I tossed it towards his drink wher
e it struck the edge of the glass and fell to the ground. Priest picked up the quarter and tossed it towards my drink. The whisky must have been getting to him because it zoomed past me and hit the floor.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another quarter.

  I took it from him and tossed it into his shot glass. “What did you go to jail for.”

  “Attempted murder.” He spoke only once he’d taken the shot from his glass and glanced down so I couldn’t see the look that crossed his face. But it was too late for that. I pushed myself up.

  This game was clearly over.

  “You tried to kill her boyfriend.” It wasn’t a question. He nodded as I came to a stop in front of him.

  “Ex-boyfriend.” He was quiet for a long time before adding, “How could I not? After what he did to her. He was 28, you know that? He was 28 years old, and she was fucking 15. He took advantage of a little girl.” He sounded disgusted as he picked up the bottle and took a long swig.

  I tried to find something to say, but I couldn’t think of anything that might even sorta work.

  He spoke softly. “I failed … I failed her.” His voice shook.

  “No.” My fingers tangled into his, and he pulled me close to him.

  “I failed,” he said again, his voice weak as he looked up at me. Tears welled up in the corner of his eyes.

  “No, you couldn’t have known.”

  “But I didn’t fight for her. I didn’t kill him until after he took her life.” He took a deep breath as a single tear ran down his cheek. My heart pounded in my chest, what the fuck was I supposed to do? I’d caused this, and there was nothing I could do but sit here and hold him. So I held him tighter as he let out a small sob.

  “Fuck.” He pulled away from me and wiped his face. “This has got to be sexy, eh? A grown fucking man crying like a child.”

  I put a finger to his lips. “This isn’t about sexy.” I kissed the top of his head. “This is about her. It’s okay to cry, you loved her, and you lost her at such a young age.” I kept him close to me as I held him.

  For a long time we just stayed like that. Me half naked and holding him, him sitting on a chair as he cried into my stomach. I didn’t mind.

  “I knew she was going through this … I knew he was stalking her,” He pulled me closer, and I held him tighter. “But I didn’t do anything about it. We kept her as safe as we could but we should have made her go to the cops about it, we should have put him in his place … If I’d just fought for her before they started dating, I could have stopped it all.” He pulled away and looked up at me. “I didn’t even tell her how I felt. I didn’t ask her out; sure I may call her my girlfriend but … the truth is, I don’t even deserve to call her that.” Another sob escaped him.

  ***

  My eyes snapped open the next morning.

  I hadn’t slept this well in years. I rolled over, stretched and turned to see the woman in my bed. She was naked, but I wasn’t. I scowled. What happened last night?

  Her eyes flickered open, and she gave me a smile as she pushed herself up. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Really well rested,” I said, yawning.

  “It’s amazing what crying can do for you, eh?”

  I felt my cheeks burn. “Crying?” Oh God, I’d cried? In front of her?

  “You don’t remember it?”

  “No,” I shook my head.

  She smirked. “Do you remember starting the game?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you got my bra off, I asked why you went to jail and … that kinda started the crying.” She didn’t look like she was judging me, she just gave me a soft smile. “I’m hungry; do you have anything good to eat here?” She jumped to her feet and headed for the kitchen.

  “Wait!” I called after her. What had I said to her? Did I tell her about our plans?

  ***

  I put some toast in the toaster as I cracked my neck.

  He came out of the bedroom behind me. “Wait, wait, wait. What did I say last night?”

  “Nothing too crazy,” I said turning to him. “That you loved her, you should have fought for her, you should have tried to kill him before he killed her; all that stuff.”

  I didn’t see the point in lying to him. But I still had my own questions that I wanted answered. I wasn’t sure if he would do it when he was sober or not though.

  “Was that your first time crying since it happened?”

  He was quiet at first, reflecting. “Yea … I um … I cried at her funeral, but that was the last time I did though.”

  “That’s a long time to go without crying.”

  “Well, I might do it more if it helps me sleep that well.” He gave me a soft smirk.

  “Look, I’m sorry but I’ve got to ask … did he kill her himself?”

  Chapter Three

  Did she kill herself because of him? Did he cause her death in some way? Did he actually kill her himself? If he did then how did he get away with it?

  Priest looked away from me. “I guess after seeing me sobbing like that last night you at least deserve to have that answered.” I took a deep breath. I reached out and grabbed his hand, determined to show him that he wasn’t alone. To my surprise, he actually smiled a little. “When they broke up, he took it really bad. He … he started stalking her. It got to the point where we, my friends and I, had to go with her everywhere. Thankfully, she was living with one of our friends at the time, so that made it a little easier. One night she managed to get away from us.” He smiled softly. “She didn’t mind us always being with her, but she said she needed a little alone time every now and then. We couldn’t find her, but we think he did … later that night we found her down by the river. Her car had smashed into a tree. No one was really sure if it was an accident or if it was deliberate.” He squeezed my hand softly.

  “I’m so sorry. I know it’s a lame thing to say, but I’m not sure what else I can say.”

  “It’s how I got my scar.” He tried to brush it off, but his eyes gave him away.

  I pulled him towards me holding him tight, and we stayed liked that for a few minutes, neither of us speaking.

  “So … did we have sex last night?” He finally asked.

  I laughed, pulling away from him. “No, I’m pretty sure you thought I wasn’t interested after seeing you cry.”

  “And are you?”

  “Of course. A man crying doesn’t scare me.” I grinned. “In fact, it’s a nice refresher then the assholes I’m used to. They all pretend they don’t have emotions. But they do, and I know it.” I smiled, kissing his chest and pulling away. “And about that sex thing … I’m hungry, and I’ve got to head for an interview for a job, but I it should be done by 3:00. I could stop by after that … if you want.”

  Priest grinned. “I would absolutely love that.”

  “And you’re going to be here this time?”

  “I wouldn’t miss you for the world.” A look passed over his face that I wasn’t quite able to read.

  ***

  I stared at the woman in my kitchen. She grinned widely as she devoured the toast in front of her.

  I’d never had a woman stay more than the night in the past year but her … she just seemed to keep coming back, and I hadn’t even had sex with her.

  Last night … she’d dealt with a side of me that no one had seen, not even Dom, Luke or Jacob, but somehow she was still interested. Somehow she still wanted to see me again. And I wasn’t going to fuck it up. I was going to make it an amazing night.

  Chapter Four

  I made it to his place just before 4:00. He was already there waiting for me. “Hey, don’t you work or something?”

  “I took a sick day. It’s my first one in the year that I’ve been working for them, so they didn’t mind.” He shrugged. His short blond hair was wet and slicked back. And for the first time, I took a good long second to take him in. His clean jeans and a simple white shirt. Simple, I liked that
.

  Before I could say anything else, he pulled me into his arms. The hug was so tight I couldn’t breathe for a second, but I was okay with that. My arms wrapped around him and held him tightly as I took a deep breath of him. Soap. That was what I smelt more than anything.

  “Did you have anything in mind for tonight or …?”

  “More than anything, I’d like to finish what we started when we first met.”

  His words sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. “Really?”

  “You’d rather go to a movie or something?”

  “Not really,” I confessed.

  I let him take my hand and lead me towards the bedroom. My heart pounded in my chest, and the walk to the room seemed to take forever.

  When Priest pushed the door to his bedroom open, and I saw the room, I gaped in surprise.

  The blinds were pulled tight, but a dim light still poured through the windows and I could see that rose petals scattered the floor making a thin line up to the freshly made bed. There was a bottle of wine on the bed, as well as a box of chocolates.

  I turned to him, my eyes wide. My mouth opened, but I couldn’t force myself to say anything. Priest grinned widely, pulling me into the room. “I hope it isn’t too much. I mean, I know it’s kinda cliché.”

  I laughed softly. “Things are cliché for a reason.” I looked around the room. “It’s … kinda perfect, I hope you know that.”

  I turned to see his cheeks turn pink. “Well … I um, I’m glad you like it.”

  I grinned as I slipped out of my shirt and let it fall to the ground. “I love it, Priest.” I pulled him close to me, and my hands ran over his chest. “Why do your friends call you that?”

  “My name is Preston.” His lips touched mine. “It was a name Jacob gave me when we started high school; I’m not really sure why, but it just caught on, and it’s been what they call me since then.” His lips touched mine again, softly. “You can call me Preston if you would rather.”

  “What would you like me to call you?” I asked returning his kiss.