by Dani Stowe
“Nick?” I called back.
“Don’t be scared,” he shouted. “Look! Look ahead.”
I put my chin up to see my sister and friends and some of the rest of NIM. They were cheering me on to crawl towards them from Elliot’s attic window.
It’s possible if I had known all the things I know now, I might not have kept going. I might’ve turned back around. Perhaps it would’ve been easier to perish with Nick in the fire than to die slowly every day with him thereafter.
Chapter 4
Nicholas
Elliot Crowe.
After twenty minutes of trying to get Taloulah to flirt back with me in chem lab, the biggest dork to ever walk the planet marched into class. He had a black eye and a split fat lip.
He walked straight to me. “You’re in my seat,” he announced.
Despite the pants he wore too low on his waist and the few facial hairs he was trying to grow out in an obvious attempt to look more grown up, it amazed me how Elliot was unafraid to confront me, like he could easily take another hit and the previous day’s pummeling had no effect on him.
I smoothed my hand through my hair. “I’d like to sit here, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind,” said the tall kid, pulling up his pants that were about to fall off his scrawny body. “Taloulah is my lab partner.’
“Whatever. Taloulah agreed to be my tutor.”
“What? No, I didn’t,” Taloulah squawked. “Elliot, I swear I didn’t,” she blinked liked an owl.
Elliot’s eyes narrowed as they wandered between me and Taloulah. “Hey, what’s going on here?”
“You look like a smart guy.” I said. “Maybe too smart or maybe more like a smart ass, which is why you got your butt kicked, so why don’t you figure it out?”
Elliot took me at my word. The space between his brows furrowed as he fixed his glasses to examine me, study me, trying to figure me out. He even studied the books on the table and the space between Taloulah and myself.
He looked back to me. “You do know this is advanced chemistry, right?”
I put up my chin. “I know chemistry.”
“Do you now?”
“I do,” I replied, cocking my head towards Taloulah, “but I need help advancing.”
Elliot laughed, catching on quickly to what I was up to. He was as smart as his reputation preceded him. “I’ll pull up another chair,” he smiled.
For the remaining twenty minutes of class, I sat between Elliot and Taloulah, watching them finish up on a few calculations they were planning to use for their upcoming science fair project—something about an experiment on sugar and its effect on bones. Fucking. Boring. Even I could come up with something better than that. I managed to yawn only once.
Occasionally, I’d pretend to be listening and move the paper they were working off of, inching it towards Elliot’s direction so Taloulah would have to lean in closer to me in order to scribble on the paper. Truth be told, I’d never felt like such a dork, myself. I was completely smitten. Smitten with both of them, really. They were each harboring injuries and their faces were evidence of it—Taloulah with puffy red eyes and Elliot’s painted black and blue for all the world to see. It made me want to show them my injuries, though I swore to myself I would never do that.
When the school bell rang alerting us to switch classes, I grabbed Taloulah’s books to hold them for her. She wasn’t too happy about it. More than half the class was staring at us as she struggled to fight me to carry her own books. At thirteen, she probably had no idea she was even interested in chivalry just yet. Not to mention, I wasn’t just a new kid but the “rich boy” that girls were already daydreaming and gossiping about. Taloulah was clearly not the kind of girl that liked to spark gossip, let alone attract any attention.
Still, I held her books and kept them from her because Taloulah was exactly the kind of girl I knew I needed. One that might eventually come to live with me on my island. One that might accept me when she knew the truth. One that maybe I could be myself with—a beast.
“Um... which way are you going?” She spoke so softly, I could barely hear her as we exited the lab. She was utterly distracted by the onlookers and gossip already echoing as whispers through the school hall.
I dipped my head to look her in the eyes. “Wherever you’re going.” I smiled.
She turned away, flustered, and pulled a few strands of her hair into her mouth. It was even harder to understand her. “Um... I’m going to—”
“World History,” announced Elliot coming up from behind and barging in between us.
“Cool,” I said ready to follow him but Taloulah grabbed my arm. She pulled her spit-covered hair out of her mouth. “Um... I have to go to the restroom and swap out my books at my locker. Can I have those back now?”
“I’ll go with you.” I shrugged.
“I think someone wants to talk to you.” She pointed behind me.
My arms lightened up when I turned around to see a pretty brunette with big blue eyes and bulging breasts boasting a fake tan and a squeaky voice. “Hi,” she winked, “I heard you’re new.”
Damn! I had no idea public school hosted such hot chicks!
I pinched my shirt to fan myself. “Um...”
Um? Since when the fuck did I say, “Um?”
Taloulah came to mind and...
Oh no! I looked in my hands.
Empty!
I spied down the busy hall to the left, then the right.
Ah fuck! One damn distraction and I’d already lost the girl.
In the flow of student traffic, I caught a glimpse of Elliot so I darted between bobbling sponge brains when I heard a pounding crash—the sound of something massive hitting against the lockers. I focused my attention on the noise and I could see Elliot on the ground as a huge ass monster of a kid was about to pound on him.
I quickened my pace, pulling up my shirt to reach for the clasp of my belt. I undid the buckle and pulled with one swift motion to free the leather strap from my pants. I watched Elliot take a punch as I folded the leather strap in half and as soon as I got close, I whacked the big bully with my belt in the face.
The second the big kid went to reach for his eye, a reactive reflex, I formed an airtight fist and punched the big bully hard in the crook of his throat. He fell back to land on his ass, so I skipped over his legs and then his head and bent over to strap the belt around his neck and pulled. My ass came down on the hard tile floor and I stuck my foot up against the kid’s shoulder. I was ready to snap his neck—the belt was wrapped tight and I had enough leverage.
“No, don’t!” cried Elliot, tugging at my arm. “We’re not like them. We’re better than them. We don’t solve problems this way.”
“Yes, we do,” I countered.
“No,” Elliot cried. “You’ll get in trouble and they’ll win. We have to find another way.”
The other lanky kid from chem lab, Jaxon, joined Elliot in a tug of war with me and I eased up as they talked me down, making me see their logic. When I stood up, however, I was still filled with so much rage that I still wanted to beat the big ugly jerk, so I kicked him in the face and gave him a few lashes of my belt before I heard books falling, Taloulah’s books falling.
She was in horror. She had seen the beast before I could show her my soft side, the mature and more human side that wanted to run after her as she ran away. She was scared to death by what she’d seen. She probably thought I might do the same to her. And at that age, unfortunately, those thoughts were already at play in my mind.
So again, I had to let her go, because that moment was my moment and as sour as it was, I knew well enough to leave my beast alone.
Chapter 5
Taloulah
“Do you love him?” Nick asks.
I don’t know how to answer. I don’t know how Nick’s going to react. I should’ve left when I had the chance. I should just walk out of his office. Right. Now.
But if I do, who knows what darkness Nick w
ill employ next. I don’t think he’ll actually kill someone, but he does know how to hurt people. I need to find a way to at least make him feel at peace with this—with being alone. That’s all he’s really afraid of. He’s not afraid of losing me. He fears being left with what he believes are his only family in the world—the fictional characters in his books.
I shuffle with my feet. I don’t know what to say.
“Are. You. In. Love. With. Him?” Nick repeats slowly.
I look at Nick’s face. I’m angled at a point where I can still see the tip of his nose glowing as he continues to stare into the glass. I lick my lips before I open my mouth so that I may articulate clearly. “He makes me feel loved.”
Nick cocks his head and shakes it slowly. He’s angry. His nose crinkles as he scowls. “Does he buy you things?”
I bow my head and sigh. “What does it matter?”
“It matters to me. Just answer the question.”
“If I answer, will you take back the threat you made against him?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Yes, he buys me things.”
“Has he touched you?”
Oh my God! I feel like I’m being interrogated. Nick is not remotely interested in touching me except with a swat to my backside, and the only reason he’s asking is because one, he thinks he owns people so they owe him, and two, he’s extremely competitive.
I huff. “Yes, he’s touched me.”
Nick puts both hands up against the glass, spreading his fingers out. He bows his head to rest the crown of his skull against the glass and he peeps down to his feet spread apart.
I’ve seen him in this position before. It makes me ill. It makes me wonder if I’m making the right choice to quit because we both know I’m not just resigning, I’m leaving our friendship or whatever type of relationship this is.
“Has he told you he loves you?”
“He loves me,” I say immediately and with utmost certainty. “Truthfully Nick, he doesn’t have to say it because I can feel it though he has said it at least a hundred times now.”
“Lou, you still haven’t told me whether you love him back or not.”
“Nick. You’re right. This isn’t about him. This about you and me. So, let me be clear. I don’t have any illusions about the way you feel about me. I know you don’t love me. But I do know your secrets, which is why you’ve kept me around. I’ve never kept any secrets from you until recently, but you should know no man could ever replace the way I feel about you.”
He smacks the glass. “I know how you feel about me, woman! I want to know if you love him as well.”
“We’re getting married.”
There! I said it. I don’t know why I was so afraid to let Nick know. But it’s out in the open now and, hopefully, we can both move on.
“Mmmrrrrr. FUCK!” Nick shouts, pounding a fist into the glass. I’m sure it won’t break but the deep warbling sound spreading across the glass still frightens me. He pounds it again.
“Stop that!” I yell.
What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s been acting so crazy lately...well, more crazy than usual.
His hands smear down the glass. “What can I do Taloulah? What can I do to make you stay?”
Stay? He wants me to stay? So I can watch him fuck other women?
My eyes burn hot again. “What I want, Nick, you can’t give me or you won’t give me.”
He doesn’t respond—just hangs his head lower. I wish he would say something but he doesn’t, so I continue. “Deep down you’re a good man. Look at everything you’ve built and everything you’ve done, especially for your friends. You’ve helped them to achieve success beyond their wildest dreams and it’s you who helped make their dreams come true. It’s you who is responsible for uniting Elliot, Jaxon, and Don with the women they’ve loved their whole lives. Those people were separated for a long time but you! You brought them together. The two of us, however...”
Nick’s head perks up a bit.
I bow my own head. “The two of us have been together all these years but not in such a way that I always hoped, so I believe it’s our turn, our time, to go our separate—”
“I don’t want to be separated from you,” Nick interjects.
Now, I’m fucking frustrated.
I snap, “How can you say that? You treat me like shit! I watch you fuck other women and you just said you know how I feel about you. So, if you know that I love you, how much I love you, then why do you treat me so poorly?”
“You said I could be myself with you,” he snaps back, finally turning his head to look at me with anger in his eyes and a point of his finger. “Don’t you remember? Those were the four words you said to me: ‘Be yourself with me. Be yourself with me.’ You repeated it over and over and I fucking believed you. I’ve always believed you.”
I put my hands up. “Nick, that was over a decade ago. Don’t you see how unhealthy this is? Especially since I’ve never been able to be myself with you and all you ever do is hurt me.”
He looks at his pointed finger, retracts it, and rakes his fingers through his hair as he groans. “I’ve never laid a finger on you.”
“You smack my ass every chance you get.”
“You told me to!” He points again. “You told me I could.”
I bow my head and fold my arms. It’s true. I did tell him to.
On the night of the fire, I told him to smack me on my ass. I encouraged it. For years, I even liked it. I enjoyed what I thought was a form of flirtation but it got annoying over time, especially in recent years, when the hard swat not only stung my bottom but my heart. I started to feel like that dumb girl who was forced to hang around her sister and friends to be dumped on like I was in high school.
I’m starting to hate getting smacked on the ass, especially anytime I do something wrong. I’m starting to feel like I’m just here for Nick’s entertainment.
I always thought that maybe once—just once—Nick wouldn’t withdraw after landing his hand on my bottom and instead grab it and caress it to eventually let his hand and fingers roam elsewhere over my body.
But he never did. He only does that to other women, because he’s not attracted to me in that way.
“You look disappointed,” he says.
I fake a grin, avoiding looking at him.
“Have I been disappointing you all along? This whole time?” Nick’s voice has changed. It’s low and speculative—dark. He sounds very dark.
Whoa. I know this dark voice. A nasty chill spreads over my skin and my heart races.
I quickly gather my wits about me to look him straight in the eyes. “Nick, you’ve never disappointed me. Not. Ever. I’m just saying that we should move on from each other because... because...”
“Because I’ve been disappointing you,” he implies, scratching his neck and turns back around to face the window.
“No,” I assert strongly. “That is not what I’m saying.”
Convince him, Taloulah! Convince him he is not a disappointment before the darkness takes over.
He reaches for the front of his pants and my chin quivers. Oh fuck!
I hear him unbuckling the clasp to his belt and I’m ill. Oh shit!
The snap of his belt echoes off the corners of Nick’s office as he pulls the strap of leather free from the loops and I shudder. My insides are twisting.
Oh hell. I cover my mouth. I know what he’s going to ask for next.
Nick unbuttons his shirt. “I need a number, Taloulah.”
The darkness is here.
“I’m not giving you a number,” I speak through my cupped hands.
“Give me a number,” he grits and bites on the belt to hold it in his mouth to pull his shirt up to be free of his pants.
I clench my fists at my sides and stomp a foot. “Damn it, Nick! Stop this.”
He articulates clearly with his teeth on the leather. “Number. Now. Or I resort to default.”
Nick pulls off his shirt, let
ting it fall to the floor to reveal his beautifully lean and muscular torso marred by many elongated scars to his back. I have not seen his scars for some time. A few years, I believe it has been, and I wonder if he’s showing them to me now as a reminder. His scars are the real reasons I’ve never left. The reasons I’ve stayed for so long. The reasons I love Nicholas Rohr so, so much.
Chapter 6
Nicholas
Seventeen. That’s how old Taloulah was when I could finally grip her hand and hold it. I held it tight, so tight, right after the fire. I wanted to let her know that not only was she safe as I pulled her, guiding her through Elliot’s heated house, down the stairs, through the front door, and into the busy street, but that I also wasn’t going to let her go.
Not ever.
For four years, I sat next to her, trying to talk to her, interact with her, and do whatever I could to get more of her attention because I did have it—a little of Taloulah’s attention. She stared and glared, as most girls did, but she would never succumb to any of my advances.
High school was a zoo and I was the main attraction. My mystery, my money, my looks, my reputation—chicks wanted me, but not Taloulah. She kept her distance as she ogled me—safe behind her boundaries raised like thick pieces of impenetrable glass, where she could observe the beast without getting bitten, without getting smacked.
Of course, word got around quickly about what I did to the Dean’s daughter at my previous school and, surprisingly, high school chicks weren’t just curious, but begged to experience the whole butt-smack experience for themselves, for which I indulged them. Of course, I loved Taloulah, but I was a kid back then and that kid had needs.
So, I fooled around. Experimented. I was never sure what Taloulah thought about my behavior, though I was confident she knew via snoops and scandalmongers. Taloulah and I weren’t in a relationship—the girl wouldn’t even talk to me!—but I still felt like I was cheating on her on occasion.
In the first two years of knowing her, I’d occasionally bump into her or brush up against her and she’d quickly withdraw. Sometimes, I’d stalk her from inside my limousine as she walked home. She knew I was there but she was so stubborn—she never once approached the vehicle. I was tempted to take a stick to Taloulah, like her dance instructor did, so I could force her to point her nose at me and keep it in my direction. But even then, I knew Taloulah was too good, too smart, too sweet, too precious, and already too hurt for that.
