It's Our Secret

by W. Winters

  Disbelief grips me. He knows?

  “I heard about it on the news when she killed herself but the details were missing and I was already so far gone … but sitting in jail with nothing to do but think will help put the pieces together. The way you were with him that day outside the locker room … I figured it out myself, Allie.”

  My eyes widen and I struggle to breathe. To say anything. He knew and he wants me? How could he?

  “You will never do that again,” Dean commands. “And you’ll never talk about this again,” he says and my breath halts. “Never tell anyone else. No one.”

  I nod my head, clasping my hands in front of me and with my posture as still as can be. My heart races and a flicker of hope lights inside of me. Dean looks at me for a long time, as if judging what he believes and what he finds lacking. Please believe me. My body trembles as I try not to grip on to him. As I wait for whatever it is he needs. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to him.

  “Is that everything?” he asks me. “Tell me now.”

  My bottom lip drops but I don’t know what he’s asking, or what he wants.

  “What else are you hiding?” he asks in a raised voice and I cower as I shake my head and insist, “Nothing, nothing.”

  “You won’t lie to me again.” His voice is hard.

  I almost tell him that I never lied, but that wouldn’t be true. I kept the truth from him, and that action in and of itself was a lie.

  “Is there anyone else that you want to hurt you?” he asks me, and I can’t stand the anger that’s there. “Because I swear to God I don’t know what I’ll do if anyone tries to hurt you.”

  “No. No. I’m sorry,” I tell him in a croak, shame washing over me.

  “Do you realize what could have happened? What he would have done to you?” Dean asks and his own voice cracks.

  “Not until he was,” I start to say and remember how heavy his body was, how much it hurt.

  My eyes squeeze shut tight, but not tight enough. I just want it all to go away. “I wish I could take it back. I’m so sorry.”

  “I would do it again, Allie. I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt you.”

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “Don’t keep anything from me, do you hear me?” he asks me, and his voice is consoling this time.

  “I promise,” I tell him with all sincerity. “I have no more secrets.”

  “Good, because I still love you. I love you, Allison.”

  I finally breathe, a large gulp of air that’s nearly too much as I fall into him. His arms wrap around me tightly, holding me just as fiercely as I hold him.

  “And I want you to come with me.” His words are whispered into my hair.

  I can only nod, I can’t speak anymore. I have nothing left to give, but if I ever I do, it’s all for Dean.

  Before I’m ready, Dean pulls me away from him, letting the cold air come between us and for a moment, I think he’s changing his mind. But then he speaks.

  “Just don’t stop loving me,” he says as he stares deeply into my eyes.

  “Never,” I breathe out the word quickly, desperate for him to know how true it is. I love him. I love him more than he’ll ever know.

  38

  Dean

  “How many boxes?” I ask Allie as I pull the clear packaging tape down the center of the box.

  “Fourteen,” she tells me, appearing from the kitchen doorway with a cup of tea in her hands. “It all fit in fourteen boxes,” she says, leaning her hip against the wall and then blowing over the cup.

  She kept the empty cardboard boxes, breaking them down and stacking them neatly in the pantry. Like she knew she was going to need them before long.

  Every time I’m reminded of why she came here, the very thing that brought her to me, my chest aches with a pain that runs deep. A pain I don’t think will ever leave me.

  “You sure you don’t want a cup?” Her small voice carries into the room and snaps me out of the dark thought.

  When I glance up at her, ready to say no again, the hint of happiness is on her face. Or maybe it’s hope. With her hair draped over her shoulders and wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of my old rugby shirts, she looks perfect. The shirt clings to the middle of her waist when she stands like that. Everything about her makes me want to take her into my arms and never let go.

  Partly because she needs it, but mostly because I need her.

  “Maybe I will,” I tell her and drop the roll of tape on the floor, turning the box upright. We have two boxes packed and within just a few hours, Allie’s place will be cleared out. I want to pretend we were never here and rewrite our story, but that’s life. You don’t get to rewrite it.

  As I stand, my back cracks and my stiff neck and shoulders ache. I haven’t slept for shit, not since I got out of jail and I don’t think I will again until we leave this place, this city … all of it. A fresh start is what we want and need. Wherever that might take us.

  Her bare feet pad against the floor as she heads back into the kitchen.

  I follow the sound of her running the faucet and then opening and closing the microwave. She’s in front of it, gripping the counter and staring absently ahead when I walk in.

  “Allie Cat.” I barely speak her name. Her green eyes search for mine instantly. Every time I move or speak, she’s there waiting for me, on edge and waiting for something. That’s the way it’s been since I’ve been back here. It’s like she’s afraid I’m going to run or that one day I’ll wake up and think she isn’t worth it. That loving her costs too much. It fucking kills me. I’ll hold her and love her every day until she knows I’m here for good and staying.

  She doesn’t know what lies ahead, and neither do I.

  But I know it’ll be all right, so long as she’s with me.

  In three strides I’m beside her, silencing the microwave with the mug of water in it for tea and pulling her into my arms instead.

  “I want to hear you tell me you’re all right,” I whisper, cupping her chin in my hand and forcing her eyes to mine. She doesn’t have a trace of makeup on and under her eyes are dark circles, although she’s been sleeping all right; better than she was before.

  “I couldn’t be with you because I didn’t want to be okay and you made me so much more than just okay.”

  “You know I love you,” I tell her. It’s not the first or second or third time I’ve told her since I’ve come home to her. And I’ll keep telling her until the look in her green eyes reflects that she knows they’re true.

  “I love you,” she says back in barely a whisper, her expression changing to one of complete sincerity but also laced with pain. Her eyes close as she lets out a breath and presses her cheek into my hand.

  I knew she was hiding something and that’s what drew me to her. From the very beginning, she was a mystery.

  The dark secrets I didn’t expect. Who could’ve ever expected this?

  Allie peeks up at me, the hurt and worry still in her eyes.

  She’s walking on eggshells. She’s been this way for days and I hate myself for even feeling slightly angry toward her.

  Even though she should have told me.

  I love her.

  I’d kill again for her. And she knows I would.

  Sitting in that cell with nothing to do but think on how it came down to this, the pieces slowly fell into place.

  The reason why she kept pushing me away even though we both knew we fit together just right.

  The reason she seemed off to me when I first met her, the reason I was drawn to her.

  It was meant to be this way. As tragic and horrific as it is. I should have been at that party to stop it, but fate found another way, the two of us too broken to prevent the pain. I’ll take her however I can have her.

  “Come sit with me?” I ask her and she’s quick to give me the trace of a smile when I take her small hand in mine. She’s eager to make things right and to make me happy, I can feel it in everything she d
oes. Every small look and move is cautious and eager to please.

  I sit cross-legged on the floor of the dining room. The sofa’s already in the truck, so the barren floor will have to do.

  “When did you become so shy, Allie Cat?” I ask her as she settles in my lap.

  “Shy?”

  “I feel like you’re hiding from me,” I tell her honestly.

  “I’m just …”

  “Ashamed?” I say the word I hate to think is the truth.

  “And afraid,” she tells me softly in a single breath.

  “Of what?”

  “I don’t want to lose you, but I know I don’t deserve you.” Thank God she’s at least confessed what I already knew.

  “You’re wrong.” My heart beats quicker, my blood runs warmer. All from fear of losing her. I swear I’ll never let her run again.

  “I never meant for you to get hurt,” she tells me again. I don’t know why she feels the need. I believe her. Every word.

  “I think it was supposed to happen this way,” I say and pull her soft body closer to mine. “I’m not mad at what you did.” I’m careful with my words as I add, “I’m upset you didn’t tell me but I’m not mad, and I don’t hold any of this against you.”

  She only nods her head, casting her gaze down and picking at the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. My shirt. “What I did wasn’t okay,” she whispers.

  I force her chin up with my hand on her jaw. “You only did it because something had to be done.”

  “I did it out of anger,” she’s quick to admit. As if acting out of anger made her intentions worse.

  “You did it out of pain,” I say.

  Her eyes water and she closes them, not wanting to cry in front of me. Or maybe not wanting to cry at all anymore.

  “I’m sorry about Sam, and I’m not sorry that Kevin’s dead.”

  “I’m not sorry he’s dead either,” she says, closing her eyes and letting the tears seep into her thick lashes.

  “I love you, Allison. I love you so fucking much. And it kills me that you never told me.”

  “I didn’t know if you’d believe me,” she says, and it cuts through my heart. “But I also didn’t want you to stop me.” That’s the real truth. And I get it. I understand it. I still hate it, though. “She needed this. Sam needed this,” she says and then breaks down in my arms.

  “Where do we go from here?” I ask her. We want each other. But there’s no roadmap for what the future holds and that’s terrifying for her.

  “Forgive me, and I’ll go wherever you want. I’ll run away forever. I’ll do whatever you want,” she says, brushing the tears away and leaving her cheeks reddened.

  A heavy breath leaves me in a huff. “I’ve already forgiven you, Allie.”

  “I love you. I’m so sorry,” she says hurriedly.

  “Stop saying you’re sorry.” I plant a small kiss on her lips, tasting the hint of salt from her tears. “And I love you too,” I whisper against her lips.

  A moment passes before she questions me.

  “You really love me? Even still?” she asks me, and I hate that she questions it.

  “Of course I do.” I brush my knuckles across her cheek and gently push the hair out of her face. “That’s not something I can stop,” I say before lowering my lips to hers.

  She softens, eagerly accepting my kiss and parting her mouth for more.

  “Please don’t stop,” she tells me when I pull away and at first, I think she means the kiss, but then she adds, “I can’t lose you …” Her voice skips and she takes in a quick breath. “I don’t know what I would do if you stopped loving me.”

  “I never will,” I tell her with a small smile playing on my lips. My voice is upbeat, but it doesn’t echo what I feel. That first day I saw her in class, a piece of me recognized something inside of her and now that I have it, I can’t lose it. I can’t lose her.

  “You love me and I love you. That’s all we need,” I say, and she doesn’t know how raw my promise is.

  She rises from her seated position, crashing her lips against mine with a desperate need.

  For forgiveness. For love. For a life without pain and regret.

  Her grip is tight as her nails scratch through my hair as she intensifies the kiss. For the first time in days, I want more. I want to feel every bit of her. I want to give her everything and make her mine again.

  She parts the seam of her lips, granting me entry and I’m instantly hard for her. Desperate for more of her to be bared to me.

  She only pulls back from our kiss to breathe.

  “Please,” she says and nuzzles against me. “I need you.” Her voice is laced with anguish.

  Her small hands slip under my shirt. They’re warm and her fingers are gentle as she moves them to my back, eager to touch every inch of me.

  “I need you,” she says again, her eyes wide and pleading. “I need to feel you,” she adds. She kisses the little dip at the bottom of my throat and then my neck.

  It’s been tense between us but more than that, I haven’t touched her since everything’s changed.

  “Please,” she whispers with need and I’m quick move her out of my lap and lay her on the floor, my hands moving under her shirt to her hips, looping around the thin panties and pulling them slowly down her thighs.

  Her eyes are closed, her lips parted as she pants.

  It doesn’t take me long to strip down and settle myself between her thighs, all the while leaving kisses along her jaw, her neck, that little dip beneath her collarbone. Every inch of her skin that I can kiss, I do.

  “I love you,” she murmurs over and over, and when her eyes finally open and reach mine, she says it with a strength that can’t be denied.

  I slam into her, filling her completely in one swift stroke. Her bare back rubs along the hardwood floor as I thrust into her, again and again. It’s an unrelenting pace. Her head thrashes and her eyes close tight as I grip her hips and pin her down.

  I have to brace her to take the force of my thrusts.

  She’s so tight, so wet.

  Her gasp is coarse; her nails dig into my wrists. With her eyes shut tight, her body tenses. She shakes her head and I know this is wrong.

  She’s thinking about it.

  About what happened.

  “Allie,” I murmur and brace my arm behind her back, pulling her up to sit on top of me. I kiss her ravenously with her on top of me. “Look at me,” I command her and instantly her eyes open. She holds on to me with a fierceness, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and burying her head in the crook of my neck. Emotions or her memories getting the best of her.

  I wasn’t sure how she would react after what transpired, but holding her now, I hate it. I hate that she’s not lost in pleasure and that the thoughts of what one man did to her have dared to come between us.

  I stay as still as I can, still buried inside of her, but not wanting to move yet.

  “Look at me,” I tell her again more firmly and she does slowly.

  “I’m sorry, I thought I could …” her voice trails off and her shame comes back, but it’s gone the moment my words hit her.

  “You’re mine.” I say the words reverently, our shared gaze heating with raw vulnerability. “No one else will ever touch you.” My heart beats hard and heavy, but slowly. “I’ll take it all away.”

  “And you’re mine,” she says and runs her fingers through my hair. Her touch gentle but possessive. I love it.

  With her on top of me, I move my hands to her hips and rock her. Our eyes still locked. Her clit pressing against me with every motion.

  “Slow at first,” I tell her and pump my hips once, burying myself inside her, but still letting her lead. She gasps a moan as her hands fall on my chest. Her small fingers dig into my shoulders.

  She nips my bottom lip, letting the tip of her nose brush against mine as she pulls away slightly, but rocks her hips again, making her body shudder with pleasure.

  My hand moves to the ba
ck of her head, and only then does she look at me. “We’ll get through this,” I tell her, searching her eyes to make damn sure she believes me. “I’ve got you.”

  Whatever she asks for and however she needs it, that’s how it will always be with us.

  Always and forever.

  Epilogue

  Allison

  “How are things going now that you’re settled in?” Dr. Robinson asks me. I like his office; it’s cozy with the dark furniture and a thick rug under my feet. I like it more when Dean’s with me.

  “Well, really well,” I answer, letting out an easy breath as I pick my feet up and slip them under me to get comfortable.

  “Moving was a good change, a new environment for both of us.”

  “So everything went smoothly?”

  “Better than I thought. Daniel took over the lease at the place I’d been renting.”

  “And Daniel is Dean’s friend?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, he’s a good guy,” I say and my heart races as I talk. Because I’m hiding the truth. I’m keeping what I overheard just yesterday to myself. Daniel has his own demons, but that’s not my story to tell. It’s his and he’ll get through it. I know he will.

  He nods in approval although he doesn’t write anything. The book stays on his lap, the pen sitting on top. My eyes keep flickering to it; I always wonder which parts of our session Dr. Robinson deems worthy of recording.

  “We got a golden retriever,” I tell him. “He’s just a fluffy puppy, but he’s sweet.”

  “You got him together?” he asks me.

  “My mother got him for us.”

  “And how does that make you feel?”

  “You sound like a shrink when you ask me that,” I tell him.

  “And you sound like you’re deflecting.” He’s quick to call me on my shit.

  My eyes fall on the coffee table and I feel a tug at my heartstrings. “I feel like he’s too good for me.” I speak without looking up at Dr. Robinson, but the telltale sign of his leather notebook opening makes me huff a small laugh. I guess anything that hurts my heart is worthy.