by Anna Brooks
* * *
“Jack,” I tell Meara, who’s working behind the bar.
“You sure? You never drink liquor,” she asks.
“I’m sure.”
She pours the glass and slides it to me, silently asking me if I’m okay. I slam it back and indicate I want another. I do that two more times before I start to feel the burn I’ve been craving. I went right back to the airport and got on a flight that was leaving forty minutes later. So here I am, at almost two in the morning, getting drunk for the first time in two years.
My head hangs loosely at my neck, and my fingers strum the wooden bar top.
Fuck. She’s with someone else. I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid to believe she’d still want to be with me. Never again. I’m fucking done. Women are nothing but lying bitches.
“Hey.”
I look over and get a view of a huge pair of tits, recognizing Britney. She’s always at the gym and hangs on me every chance she can. She even manages to get an invitation to the Kellys’ barbeques and hangs on me there, too. I’ve never once led her on, but she can’t ever seem to take a hint.
“What are you doing by yourself?” She runs a red nail down my arm. I’m tempted to tell her to leave me alone. I haven’t even looked at another woman since Charlotte. The thought of touching anyone else made me ill, but right now, nothing sounds better.
“Wanna get outta here?” I ask, already standing. She’ll follow me.
She tries to reach up and grab me, but I shrug her off and wait for her to catch up as I flag down a cab. I get in and wait for her.
“Your place,” I tell her. I don’t want to ruin the memories I have of Charlotte in my apartment. She rattles off her address and tries to kiss me. I turn my head. She pouts, and I tell her, “It ain’t about that, so if for one second, you think this is anything other than a quick fuck, I’ll drop your ass off and go find someone else.” She quickly shakes her head, and I stare out the window.
I throw some money at the cabbie and follow Britney up the walkway to her small house.
As soon as her door closes, I start taking off my jeans.
“Don’t get the idea this is more than what it is,” I say again, removing my boxers and rolling on a condom.
“I want you to fuck me. I’ve wanted that ever since I saw you.”
“Good. You ready?”
She removes her thong and runs her fingers through her slit before holding them up to show her arousal. Swaying her hips, she goes into the living room and sits on the armrest of her couch, in what I’m sure she thinks is a seductive pose.
“Bend over.”
Chapter 8
Charlotte
MY LIFE HAS BEEN a huge mess since my dad’s death. My mom lived in denial and locked herself in her room, only coming out to use the bathroom. She rarely ate or showered, unless I gave her a sponge bath. I’ve had to do everything since then — bills, yard work, home repairs. Somehow, I managed to graduate, and because I promised my dad, I enrolled in the local community college. I’m going for a degree in business.
About six months ago, my mother became ill and was diagnosed with breast cancer. I really didn't think I could take anymore at that point, but her doctor has been very helpful. She’s not doing well at all, and because the cancer was discovered so late, she’s on hospice. Dr. Danvers, or Todd, has helped with her medical bills and comes over every Friday to check on her. She lives in her room and has no desire to fight her disease. We’re keeping her comfortable until her body finally decides to let go, like her mind and heart already have.
I tried so hard to get her to help, but when a grown woman refuses any kind of treatment or assistance, my hands were tied. So I did the best I could, and until Todd came along, I was alone. My family knows she’s sick, and they’ve been down to visit, but they have no clue the kind of life I’ve lived since my dad passed.
Todd’s been staying longer every week, and what started with a hug and kiss on the cheek has progressed to more… much more. At first, I was hesitant, but the longer I’m with him, I find he takes my mind off my pitiful life.
He’s aggressive, and there’s a part of me that’s scared of him, but I don’t think he’d ever hurt me. I haven’t slept with him yet, but I think it’ll happen tonight. He’s getting impatient. Since I don’t want him to leave me, too, I figure it’s the least I can do.
After checking on my mom, he comes back down to the couch and has that look on his face. The one where I know he’s going to start telling me what to do. His head tilts, and he sucks his cheeks in.
“Was there someone out there?” I ask still leaning on the front door.
“I don’t think so, why?”
“I thought I saw someone pull away.”
“Nope. Didn’t see anyone.”
Looking out the small square of glass, I sigh.
Todd’s angry voice makes my spine stiff. “He’s not coming for you. If he wants you, he knows where you live. How long has it been, Charlotte? Hmm?”
I don't answer. Too long.
“He knows where you live.”
This is true. He does. I changed my number and deleted all my social media stuff after my dad died. People came out of the woodwork to tell me stories about him. I didn’t want stories. I wanted him back. But Travis has been here. He knows where I am.
“He doesn’t want you.” He makes sure all the blinds are shut and stands in front of me.
“Undo my belt.” I turn and reach for it, but he grabs my hair. “With your mouth.” I nod, and he tugs harder. “What?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I reply and grab the leather between my teeth. Once I have it off, spit is dripping from my mouth, and I look at him for approval.
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing my cheek. “Now use your hands to pull my pants down.” I do what he says, and when I’ve followed all of his instructions to remove our clothes, I’m on my knees in front of him.
“Get up and put your hands behind your back.” He uses his belt to secure them together and gives me a shove so I fall back on the couch. He takes a condom out of his pocket and rolls it on. “I hate using these things. I’m going to start you on the shot.” When I open my mouth to protest, he ‘tsks’ me and shakes his finger. “What’s the rule?”
“No talking,” I whisper, mad at myself for forgetting.
“Right. And since you can’t seem to follow directions, I’ll just have to put something in your mouth to keep it quiet.” He reaches down and grabs my underwear, twirling the purple cotton. “This will do. Open up.” He scrunches it in a ball and shoves it in my mouth.
I gag and push them out a little with my tongue.
“God. You’re fucking amazing. So pretty.” His eyes are predatory, and the tips of his curly blond hair almost touch them.
When his hands roam over my body, I try to enjoy it. He manages to get me aroused, but nothing can prepare me for the brutality in which he fucks me. Fast, hard, and long. I mentally check out, and tears brim my eyes when he slaps my butt. When Travis used to do that, it was gentle, playful. When Todd does it, it’s the opposite. It hurts.
By the time he’s done, I’m sore and exhausted. He goes to the bathroom to clean up and brings me back a glass of water and a washcloth. I numbly spread my legs while he runs the cloth between them to wash me. I grab the blanket off the couch and ask if he’ll stay with me. I want someone to hold me. I don’t want to feel so fucking alone anymore.
“I can’t. I have to get back to the hospital. Maybe next week.”
I curl up and fight the tears. He’s lying. He doesn’t have to go back to work. He’s going home, to his wife.
Present
Why did I move back here again? I turn up the heat in my car and grip the steering wheel with gloved hands. Stupid Midwest. It hasn’t stopped snowing for two days straight. Because I’m a procrastinator, and apparently a glutton for punishment, I’m out driving in this crap. I have zero groceries in my house, and Meara is coming over for her
birthday tomorrow. Since she’s the only one who knows I’m back, I can’t go out to celebrate with her.
Not only do I need to get food, but I have to get her a present, too. I’m contemplating what to get her — either new body jewelry for one of her many piercings or shoes. I saw these ballet flats that had sparkly skulls on them the other day. She’d love those. Meara is into the whole rock chick look. She has every reason to be, seeing how Liam’s a drummer.
I press on the brake as I approach the oncoming stoplight, but my car has other plans. “Shit, shit, shit,” I chant, stomping harder. A horn is blaring, and I look to my left — a snowplow is headed directly at me. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing harder on the brake, as if it will help me stop, and wait for the inevitable. The intense sound deafens me before the impact. The airbag explodes in my face, and I’m jumbled around like somebody is shaking me in a snow globe. Ironic, considering it looks like one outside.
After what feels like an eternity, but is really less than a minute, my car stills, and I open my eyes enough to see through them. I push the now deflating airbag out of my face and look around. My front windshield is missing, and what was once the passenger side of my car is now entwined with a tree.
The scene is almost identical to what I saw when we came upon my sister’s accident. Except in her case, it was the driver’s side that meshed with the tree.
My mind finally breaks through the fog, and people are yelling, running toward me. “Are you okay? Can you move? Be careful!”
As I wiggle my toes and squeeze my hands, I answer, “Umm, yeah. I’m okay.” I try to open the door, but it won’t budge. “Here, let me help you. Be careful.” A man stands on the hood of my car and helps pull me through the now empty windshield frame.
I jump down and walk a few feet away, rejecting any attempts to help me further. I’m not intentionally acting like a bitch, but the memories have taken over, and I feel like I’m in a dream. Looking around, I see a lot of people running around and three cars crushed like mine. The plow truck appears to be intact, and the driver’s side door is open. Hopefully, he got out okay.
People keep talking to me, but I can’t focus right now. I cannot believe I walked away from that. Looking behind me, I expect to see drops of blood, but the only thing aside from footprints is pure white snow. I sit on the hill, wrap my arms around my knees, and pull my hood over my head, trying to keep warm. The snow slowly starts to pile up around me.
In the distance, sirens blare, and before long lights are flashing all around me. Paramedics ask if I want to be evaluated and try to move me to an ambulance. I shake my head, refusing. I’m sure there are others in need of medical attention. I’m able to give the police all of the information they need for the report. The blur of the paramedics and firefighters running around take up my peripheral vision as I continue staring at the pile of metal I walked away from.
I wonder if it happened that fast for her, if she felt any pain. If she screamed or knew she was going to die. They said she died on impact, but do they really know? Maybe she took a few agonizing breaths before her heart stopped or actually felt her bones snap.
“Charlotte.” That voice. Oh, God. I close my eyes and lower my head at the gravely sound that manages to both calm and excite me. I knew I’d see him eventually since I moved back home, but this is not how I planned things. I’m not ready to see him yet.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
I must have taken too long, because he puts a finger under my chin and tilts my head up. My eyes collide with his blue ones, and I suck in a breath at the man in front of me. His muscular frame looks even larger in his gear. Although I can’t see his black hair under his helmet, I would bet it’s still shaved close to his scalp. His strong jawline and long, dark lashes make him look like a model. If he were to smile at me, I would see the dimple on his left cheek. He’s not smiling, though. He’s looking at me with the same sad eyes I saw the first night I met him.
Without words, he puts his hands out for me. Surrendering, I put mine in his and he pulls me up, throwing an arm around my back to guide me. I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I follow him without question. I automatically lean in, resting my head on his strong shoulder.
He brings me to the back of an ambulance and wraps a blanket around me while rubbing my arms.
“Charlotte, you need to get looked at,” he tells me softly.
I nod, and a minute later, a very short, very kind, and very energetic lady starts examining me.
“Hey there, darlin’. What’s your name?”
Clearing my throat, I answer her, “Charlotte. Charlotte Kelly.”
“Well, that’s a very pretty name. I’m Fran, and I’m an EMT. I’m going to take a look at you, okay? Make sure you’re alright.” She continues talking while she looks in my eyes and hooks me up to a couple machines, but I’m not listening to what she’s saying.
Travis is holding my hand and rubbing small circles on my palm. The feeling unnerves me. One touch shouldn’t be this powerful; it shouldn’t make me feel like I’m seventeen years old again. I thought I’d been through too much to feel any kind of emotion through another’s touch, but apparently, Travis is an exception.
It’s been four years. Four years that I’ve always wondered about him… about us. I play the ‘what if’ game with Travis on almost a daily basis. And every time I do, the conclusion is the same; a relationship cannot be based on a lie. My thoughts are interrupted by Meara’s worried voice.
“Charlotte, holy shit! Are you okay?” Smiling a fake smile, I try to placate her. I really have no reason to smile right now. I should probably be dead. And on top of that, I saw the love of my life for the first time in four years.
“Yeah. A little dazed, but I’m okay.”
“Travis called me. My God, your car. I can’t believe you’re alive.” She throws her hand over her mouth and starts to shake her head. “I didn't mean it like that. I’m so sorry. Shit.”
“It’s okay, Meara.” I touch her arm, and she puts her hand over mine.
“No. It’s not. I can't believe I said that. I’m such an idiot. Is she really okay?” she asks, looking at Travis.
“Yeah. Fran says all her vitals are normal. I guess you can chalk it up to a miracle that she’s not injured. Looks like she has an angel or three looking after her.” He gives my hand a squeeze, and I fight back the tears that threaten. “I really have to get back to work, though. Are you good to take her home? She should have someone with her to make sure nothing happens. She refuses to go to the hospital.”
“Yeah. I’ll spend the night.”
“Great. I’ll check in tomorrow.” He lets go of my hand, gives Meara a hug, and leans down to whisper in her ear, but I hear every word that he says. “Keep an eye on her. She’s probably in shock, and like I said on the phone, this must have brought up memories of Caroline.”
They pull away from each other, and she gives him a tight smile before grabbing my hand. I avoid Travis’ stare and start to walk away, but am quickly pulled back. The front of my body slams against his. Instinctively, my hands fly up and land on his hard chest. He wraps his arms around me and puts his lips on my forehead. I shut my eyes and relish the sensation of being held by him again.
We pull away from each other, and I turn around, my hand grazing his as I leave. His fingertips curl, pulling on mine, and I stumble. I turn to look at him and raise my eyebrows in question.
“I’m coming over tomorrow, and you’re going to tell me why the fuck you’ve been back for six months, and this is how I find out.”
* * *
Meara drives me to my apartment, and once inside, I immediately fall asleep on the couch. I specifically told her not to tell Travis I was back because I need more time before I see him again. I’m not ready to face him yet. Although, I don’t know if I ever will be.
When I wake up, I groan at the stiffness in my neck. I really should have at least tried to make it to my bed. I stretch and throw the blanket o
n the back of the couch.
“Hey, hon. How ya feeling?” Meara asks from the kitchen.
“Like I got plowed.” I chuckle under my breath at my lame-ass joke.
“Ha. Ha. Do you need anything?”
“No. What the hell time is it?” I stand up and make my way to the kitchen to get some water.
“Well, It’s about ten forty-five… Friday morning.”
“I slept all night? Seriously?”
“Yeah. You were really out of it yesterday, which is understandable.”
“I was, I guess. As soon as I got out of the car, I just…” I pause and think about how lucky I am. “I dunno, it reminded me of Caroline, and I kind of zoned out. I need a shower, though. Once I’m done, you can make me food as an apology for telling Travis I’ve been back.”
“I see you’re still a master chef,” I joke, sitting down on a stool, feeling better after a shower.
“Laugh it up, bitch. It was either a grilled cheese or umm, let’s see… nothing. You have like no food in your house.” She puts a hand on her hip and scolds me with the spatula.
I roll my eyes. “I know. That’s what I was doing yesterday before the crash. Grocery shopping and birthday— Crap! How could I forget? It’s your birthday! Happy birthday!” I step around the counter and give her a hug. Then I pinch her arm.
“Ouch, what the hell?”
“You told him I’ve been back for six months. I told you not to. I said, ‘No matter what, if Travis asks, tell him I’m still in Texas’. You knew I wasn’t ready to see him!”
“I know you did, but when he called me, he was freaking out, and it slipped. What was I supposed to say? And plus, if you didn’t run into him by accident, I’m pretty sure you would stay a hermit to avoid him.” She slides a sandwich onto a plate and hands it to me.
