Find Me

by Tory Jane

  “That’s a creepy thought. But what about our baby? What about John?”

  Wallace thinks about it. I watch her face and see the emotions flicker over her features. “That's entirely up to you. I'd want to know. Wouldn't you hate it if Jack discovered it on his own and you hadn't been honest with him? That would break his heart. If you expect transparency from him, you should be prepared to offer the same. You've lived with your loss alone for five years. It's time for him to share the burden. He deserves to know about his baby. Maybe he'll come to his senses and realize he's been a selfish bastard.”

  “You think he’s been a selfish bastard?”

  “You don’t? He wrote those letters, fine. He could have found you if he wanted to. Do you really think he hasn’t visited his parents in the last five years? I would bet that he’s been back here several times. Bella Boutique has a website. It isn’t difficult to find people on the internet. He could have tracked you down and confronted you. So, why now? What has happened in his life that he’s finally ready to see you, sneak around, but not make any real commitment?”

  Suddenly, I am angry. The unsettled feeling has taken root, and I recognize it as anger and a little fear.

  “You’re right. I’ve been wondering why last night left me so unsettled. It’s because I’m angry. Yes, I played a part, but so did he. I’m tired of the self-flagellation. I deserve more. I don’t want to be some secret piece on the side. He can’t tell me that he loves me and keep me hidden away.”

  “Exactly. Fight for yourself, Belle. It’s time to stop living alone with the pain.”

  Julia nudges Wallace. “On a more positive note, I want to thank you for opening up to us. You've taken the first step, to be honest with yourself and us. I know it wasn't easy. I'm so sorry that I didn't confront you sooner. I'm sorry that I didn't try to figure out what was causing your pain and anger. We're here for you, now, though. No more secrets, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. Julia’s right. We’re here for you. I’m shattered that you felt like you had to suffer in silence, alone. I feel like I’ve been a terrible friend. I knew you were in pain. I should have pushed harder. I’m sorry that this whole thing with Jack makes me angry. You’re worth so much more than what he’s giving you. Don’t let yourself be blinded by orgasms.”

  Wallace pours the remaining wine, and we each sit in silence, lost in our thoughts, a cloud of smoke above our heads.

  ***

  When I arrive home, I find Jack sitting on my porch steps. Before he sees me, I watch him. He looks sad. Conflicted. What is this man thinking?

  I surprise him as I walk up. “It’s you again. Sneaking around. Lurking.”

  My comment annoys him, I can tell. He covers it quickly with a grin and holds his arms out for me. “Bella Belle.”

  I let him hug me. “Hey, Jack. How are you? Is everything okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. Why are you sitting on my doorstep looking troubled?”

  “I needed to see you. I went for a walk and found myself here. You weren’t here. It upset me.”

  “Upset you? I don’t understand.”

  “Honestly, I don't either. I'm following my heart, my instincts and they both lead me to you. They always lead back to you. That scares me. Needing you, wanting you. I've been practical, responsible, and orderly for five years. In two weeks, I'm emotional, needy and filled with desire. The feelings rushing through me scare the fuck out of me. I haven't felt anything for years.”

  He stands and starts to walk away. “Annabelle, I’m sorry.”

  “Stop. Don’t walk away. Do not leave me. You cannot pour out all of that emotion, walk away, and leave me to deal with it. You will not do this to me again. Fuck you, Jack.”

  He turns back around and rushes toward me. He pushes me against the door and slams his mouth against mine, pouring every ounce of his emotion down my throat.

  I can taste it. I'm choking on it, yet swallowing it down. I inhale Jack's breath; suck his tongue deep into my mouth. I will take it all. Everything he has to give.

  “Open the door, Belle. Now.” He growls.

  “If the only thing you have to give me is a quick fuck, I don’t want it. I deserve more.”

  “Open the fucking door, Bella.”

  I turn to unlock the door, and he presses against me. Kissing my neck. Pulling my hair. Whispering in my ear, mumbling words I can't understand. I manage to open the door, and he quickly pushes me inside, slamming the door behind him.

  He grabs me and continues his onslaught of kisses. I give in and open myself to him. I feel my heart open its rusty hinges and almost scream in pain. I can't slam it shut.

  He steps back, watching me. Demanding that I look at him as he sheds his clothes and exposes himself to me. He is beautiful. He stands before me, proudly and vulnerable.

  I quickly pull my clothes off, and we face each other, exposed.

  He looks at me in awe. “Bedroom. Take me to your bed. Please. I need you. Now.”

  “You need to know, I have never allowed a man in my bed.” I turn and walk towards my sanctuary.

  He catches up to me and holds me from behind. Encircling my body with his, he wraps me up in what feels like love. He caresses my body. He curls himself around me. He’s so much bigger than I am. I feel like a tiny kitten held in the paws of a lion about to pounce. His hands are everywhere. A gentle, firm caress. It is the slow burn of our youth. The passion that once simmered between us from sunup to sundown and through the night.

  He picks me up and tosses me on the bed. “No more mattress on the floor?” he chuckles.

  “Look, the softest bedding, pillows…and bedposts.” I tease.

  As he did last night, he covers my body completely with his. He is a smooth, muscled blanket and I am free to touch his skin. I run my fingers from the top of his head to his neck, down his broad back until I am clutching the sexiest ass God ever created.

  He is kissing me, slow, deep kisses. His hands are in my hair, then cupping my face, my throat. He whispers into my mouth, “It’s never been about a quick fuck with you, Belle. I could never do anything but make love with you. You feel it, don’t you? Let me into your heart and feel me.”

  We roll to our sides, still kissing, pressed against each other. “I sealed it shut years ago, and you stroll back into my life and crack it open. How do you do that? I can't keep it shut.”

  With that, he grabs me up and wraps himself around me. He laughs with genuine joy. “Have you forgotten? I have the magic touch. It opens only for me.” He rolls me on top of him and kisses my chest, the spot where my heart resides. “Open for me, Bella. Trust me. Please. I’m begging you.”

  I'm smiling and crying. It's how Jack described it. All of these emotions rushing through me. It's exhilarating and scary. “I understand what you meant. I've buried everything for so long that it's almost painful to feel again. I forgot.” I sob, “Jack, I forgot. I'm sorry.”

  “Shh, love. It doesn't matter, because you remember now, don't you?”

  “Yes. I remember everything. It's not the past anymore, though. This is all new. So much has happened. We cannot sustain ourselves on memories of what used to be. I need to know there is a present, a future.”

  “Look at me. Annabelle. Look me in the eyes and believe me. Trust me. I am here. I am in the present. I am with you, right now, right here. I’m not thinking about the twirling girl I once knew. I’m thinking about the beautiful, strong woman I have wrapped in my arms.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “That's a lie, and you know it. I may not know the details, but I know you. All I have to do is gaze into those beautiful aquamarine eyes, and I know you. The only thing I don't know is if you're ready. Are you ready for a life with me and all that it entails?”

  “How can I answer that when I don’t know what that means? What does your life entail?”

  He kisses me. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He run
s his hands over my back, gently scratching. “There are things I need to tell you. And I’m afraid that once I tell you, you’ll run from me.”

  I pull away. “Jack. You’re scaring me. What would make me run from you? Are you married? Involved with someone?”

  I am leaning over him, my arms braced above his head. He leans up and takes my breast into his mouth and sucks, hard. “No, love. I told you. I'm not a cheater, and I would never do something like that to you. I belong to you.”

  “Jack, you’re distracting me. That feels too good. Why are you being so cryptic?”

  He switches to my other breast and lightly teases my nipple with his tongue until it is taut. Then he bites down and sends an electric shock through my body.

  I rub myself against him, rotating my hips, sliding down until I can feel him between my legs. How could I have forgotten how he feels? He is perfection. Thick and long. I am instantly ready for him, slick and wet. I want him inside of me now.

  He groans and thrusts his hips. “Now who’s distracting whom?”

  He rolls me over again and begins kissing me again. He knows I can't resist his kisses. I crave his mouth. He has me captured under him. As he kisses me, he slides his pelvis against mine. My legs are closed, and he's rubbing himself against me. I can feel him glide across my clit and then press against my mound. Jack has learned new tricks. I buck against him. If he spread my legs, he could slide into me with no resistance.

  Instead, he slides down, grabs my ass, and lifts me off the bed until his mouth is on me. That mouth that gave me four orgasms last night. He is kissing me the same way he kisses my mouth, long, deep, wet kisses. He slides his fingers inside me and twists them while he presses his mouth against me. I’m there in seconds, crying out his name as my juices flow into his mouth.

  Before I can come down from my high, he's kissing me again. I can taste myself on him. He lifts my legs and slides deep inside me. We both cry out. This is making love. Hot, passionate love. He growls again and bites my neck.

  “Move with me, Belle. You feel like heaven.” As he did before, he grabs my ass and lifts me into the air. He rises to his knees, pushes, and pulls me, thrusting harder, deeper. “Can you come again? Can you come with me?” He takes one hand, presses it hard against my vulva, and swipes his thumb over my clit.

  He has my body arched like a bow, my legs wrapped around his back as he manipulates my movement. He has total control over me, and I can feel the second wave coming. “Yes, Jack. Ride the waves with me.” My body contracts and the spasms begin.

  “Oh, God, yes, Bella. I'm with you.” He gives a final thrust, and I feel him pulsate inside me. He is moments behind me. He lifts my upper body and holds me against him. I wrap myself around him, and he's still deep inside of me.

  He kisses me again and gazes into my eyes as he continues to move gently inside me. “I know you. I love you. Trust me. Be with me. Marry me.”

  “Yes. You know I will.”

  Marry him? He doesn’t mean it. Wait, did I say yes?

  He lays me down gently, then grabs me and rolls me around. He's laughing. Joy fills his eyes. His happiness is infectious, and I giggle as he squeezes me and kisses me wherever he can reach.

  I think I’m going to marry Jack Cliff.

  I slip into a robe as Jack wanders off to collect his clothes. I watch him walk away. That ass. Perfection. He has those hollows on each side of his cheeks, firm and tight. Perfect hip muscles, those muscles that create arrows leading me to the most beautiful cock I've ever seen.

  I'm distracted. Shaking my head, I follow him into the living room/kitchen area. He's standing at the kitchen counter drinking a beer. He's wearing only low-slung jeans, and those hip muscles call to me. The happy trail that runs from his navel to below his waistband. I want him again, but I suspect he's about to slip away from me.

  “Can I have another one of your smokes?” he’s grinning, happy.

  “Sure, if you share that beer with me.”

  He hands me his beer, and I proceed to chug it. I'm parched. Then I rummage through a drawer and pull out my secret stash. I crack open the kitchen window and he lights two cigarettes and grabs another beer from the refrigerator.

  Standing at the kitchen counter, we grin at each other like fools. My hand has a mind of its own and reaches out to trace those hip muscles. His stomach and hip muscles clench, and I see his pants swell. That's fucking hot.

  The desire between us has not faded over the years. Jack's pupils dilate, and his eyes droop as he continues to grin. For a moment, he looks exactly like the surfer-stoner boy with whom I fell in love.

  “Hey, my little pixie. I love you. I am gonna marry you. You’re going to have me as your man.”

  My eyes widen in wonder.

  “Did you think I wasn’t serious? You did. You thought it was sex talk. Oh, no, my love. You will marry me.”

  He leans over and gives me one of his breath stealing kisses.

  Whoa. I can only stand there and grin at him, nodding my head. I'm loopy. Desire is streaming through my blood. And love.

  “Jack, I do not remember a time when I haven't loved you.”

  Just as I'm about to grab his waistband and pull him toward me, I see a flash of regret in his eyes.

  “You have to leave, don’t you?”

  “I do. I’m sorry.”

  “Sneaking in and out. And you wonder why I don’t take you seriously.” There is an unexpected edge to my voice, despite the smile on my face.

  “Annabelle Leigh Tucker. You need to take me seriously.”

  Crossing my arms in defiance, I respond. “As long as I’m a secret, I can’t trust you or take you seriously.”

  He picks me up and winks at me. “What makes you think you’re a secret?”

  “What? What are you saying?”

  “Everyone knows my intentions. You think I wouldn't talk to your father? Ask his permission?”

  I wiggle in his arms. “Put me down. You are serious?”

  Smug bastard just grins at me and reaches for his t-shirt and sweater.

  “Trust, Bella. Look into your heart and find me.”

  He leaves me with a kiss. “I’ll see you soon. Very soon.”

  The door closes behind him, and I stomp my foot in frustration. He never told me what his life “entails.” Am I ready for him? Am I prepared to be a stepmom? Is it time for me to confess to him I already know?

  I text him.

  I know what’s in my heart. You. You’ve lived in my heart for as long as I remember. How do I know if “I’m ready for what you and what your life entails” if you keep hiding from me?

  I wait for his response. Staring at my phone, I finish my beer and another cigarette. Finally, an answer.

  Bella, I just know. I see you.

  I would have told you, but you distracted me. Next time, I promise. Trust, Bella.

  It is time to drop the bomb and confess.

  I already know, Jack. I haven’t asked, because I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.

  This time there is an even longer pause. Shit. This is not a conversation to have via text message. That was stupid.

  My phone chirps. I open it to find a picture of a beautiful sleeping boy. It makes my heart both hurt and yearn.

  His name is Charlie. You’re ready. Trust yourself. You two are the loves of my life. I will tell you everything. Please don’t run. Let’s be a family. Be my family? Please?

  We have always been family. Nothing will change that. Especially if our family expands.

  Bella, I love you.

  Charlie. I would bet my life his name is John Charles Cliff. Charlie Cliff. I need to tell Jack. He has to know that Charlie had a brother. A brother with the same name. Telling him will be one of the most painful things I will ever do.

  Tackling the pile of letters seems to be a good idea. If they are a journal of Jack's life away from here, I should learn valuable information. Remaining in the dark also seems to be a good option. Learning things I d
on't want to know won't help me with my trust issues.

  Picking up the stack of letters is overwhelming. Reading them will be a daunting task. I've had them for two weeks now. The fact that I've been able to ignore them surprises me. Why am I afraid of them? Stupid question. He didn't buy that baby from a store.

  I grab a bottle of wine and cigarettes and wrap myself in a blanket on the couch. It takes a glass of wine and two cigarettes before I reach for the packet of letters that sits beside me. Gently untying the ribbon, I flip over the stack and start from the beginning.

  He addressed the first letter to my parents' house. He must have learned that I moved out of the cabin. How much did his parents tell him? It is dated a month after he left. He waited a fucking month to write?

  I tear open the envelope. Inside are two sheets of paper.

  Bella Belle,

  Where are you? You are hiding from me. Why have you not contacted me? I tried to call. Did you change your number? Text, call or write. I need to hear from you.

  I love this city. I wander every day, thinking of you. I’d love to share this experience with you.

  I found a great apartment in Lincoln Park. There is a zoo several blocks from my house. I can hear the lion roar at night. You would love it. When will you visit? Please, if I share it with you, it will make it all real.

  School starts in a few weeks. I'll be an old man student. Who goes back to college at 30? I don't care. I have my textbooks and school supplies; I'm ready.

  The only thing missing is you. Please contact me. Please?

  I love you, Jack.

  The second sheet of paper is a print out of a selfie he took in front of a Chicago skyscraper. He looks out of place with his tan, long hair, and t-shirt. He’s grinning. He's where he wants to be.

  The next letters are more of the same. He’s excited, he loves school, and he loves the big city. Charleston was too small, too conservative. He always asks me to contact him. The time distance between the letters grows further apart. He never asks about my life.