WE ARE ONE: Volume Two

by Jewel, Bella

  Okay, it’s more like dragging through, but whatever.

  I haven’t tried to contact Heath, partly because I need distance to try and figure myself out, and partly because I’m still sore about the way he left. Did I push myself onto him? Does he see me as a little unstable as well? All of those thoughts repeat over and over in my head, questions I can’t get answers to. Maybe I don’t even want those answers.

  Today is the first day I’ve ventured out of the house on my own, aside going to work. I’d decided to buy some new clothes, hoping it’d make me feel better. Instead, I’ve walked around the mall for two hours, staring vacantly at store windows. I move past people without even noticing them. I’m just not with it. I wonder if I’ll ever be with it again.

  And just like every other moment, that changes in an instant.

  Moments are funny like that—they hit you when you least expect them, when you’re at your most venerable and unprepared. It’s as if they know they’re sent to test you.

  I’m walking along, then I’m not. Because a few feet in front of me stands the young girl I saw the night I found where the cult was hiding out. She stands in the middle of the mall, staring straight ahead, her eyes occasionally darting around. She looks lost, maybe a little confused, but she’s alone and I act before I think. I just move, quickly, shoving people out of my way.

  She’s already turned before I reach her, and her eyes fall on me. She doesn’t recognize me, obviously, but she does look afraid. I’m charging at her, full throttle. I force myself to slow down and place a gentle smile on my face, carefully approaching her. She’s so beautiful, the kind of pretty that takes your breath away. She’s definitely no older than twelve, maybe thirteen if she’s lucky, and that thought makes me sick to my stomach.

  “Hi there,” I say softly when I stop in front of her.

  She stares up at me with crystal blue eyes and that dark hair that flows around her body. She’s wearing a simple blouse and a long skirt that touches the ground. Beneath the blouse, she has on a long white shirt. Basically all her skin, except that of her hands and face, is covered. She looks scared, weary, and definitely confused.

  “My name is Lucy. I know you don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.”

  Her lips part slightly.

  “I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

  Her eyes flash, and she looks around nervously again.

  “Is someone looking for you?” I prompt carefully.

  Her eyes dart back to mine, and she looks so afraid. “I don’t know you,” she says softly. “Please go away.”

  “I know you don’t know me, but I know you. I’ve seen you before. I know . . . I know what’s happening to you.”

  Her eyes get big, like saucers, and she stumbles backwards a few steps.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” I say carefully. “I just want to help. You don’t deserve what’s happening to you in there. I can help . . .”

  Her bottom lip trembles.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, extending my hand.

  “H-H-H-Hayley.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Hayley.”

  She rubs her upper arms, fidgeting nervously.

  “Are you lost?”

  “No,” she whispers. “I ran away.”

  “Do you need me to help you get somewhere?”

  She shakes her head. “They’ll be here any second; I can’t run. I can never get far enough.”

  “Hayley,” I say, stepping closer. “You can. I can help you. The police can help you. What they’re doing is wrong, and—”

  “No.” she cries, eyes darting around the crowded mall. “No police. No. He says no police.”

  “Who says that?” I whisper, trying not to freak her out more than I already have.

  “I can’t talk anymore,” she says, her voice so soft I barely hear it.

  “Let me get you out of this, Hayley. Please. I can help you.”

  “Nobody can help me.”

  “Hayley!”

  The cool bark of a voice has me turning and staring at the man striding towards us. He wears a white button-up shirt with a pair of black slacks. His hair is graying, and I recognize him as the man Hayley was handed to when I watched whatever sick ritual they had going that night. He’s older than I’d thought, and my blood runs cold.

  “It’s time to go,” he says, stepping up next to her, keeping his eyes on me.

  My skin prickles. He makes me feel sick with just one look.

  “I was just l-l-lost and asked this nice lady for help,” Hayley whispers, keeping her face to the floor.

  “Then thank you for helping her,” the man says, holding my glare.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I spit.

  He keeps his cool demeanor. “I’m not sure what you’re speaking of, but thank you for helping out my daughter here.”

  “She’s not your daughter, and we both know it. You sick bastard!” I screech.

  “Let’s go, Hayley,” he says, directing her with a hand to her upper arm.

  “Let her go!” I cry, rushing after them. “You let her go, you dirty bastard!”

  Security comes out, placing a hand on my arm. “Miss, please calm down!”

  “You can’t let her go with him. He’s a pervert. A dirty creep.”

  The man looks to the officer. “I’m sorry, my daughter and I were just shopping and this girl came out of nowhere. I think she’s confused.”

  “Miss, is this your father?” the security guard asks Hayley.

  “Tell them the truth, Hayley,” I plead. “They can help you.”

  “He’s my father,” she says, her eyes going anywhere but near mine.

  “She has to say that!” I cry as the officer pulls me away. “Please!”

  “Thank you, Officer,” Creep says, glaring at me before disappearing with Hayley.

  “Don’t let them go!” I scream.

  The security guard jerks me into a quiet hall. “Calm down or I’ll be forced to call the police.”

  No. No police. I’ve had enough police. They do nothing but lie to me.

  He’s staring at me, and I know I have to play this one cool or I’m not getting out of here. I press a hand to my heart. “I’m sorry, I must have been confused. I recently lost my sister to a horrible man. I thought that was him.”

  His face softens just slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that, but you can’t run around in malls yelling at people.”

  I nod, looking up at him through my lashes. “I’m sorry.”

  “I think you need to go home before any more drama is caused.”

  I nod. “Sorry, sir.”

  He nods, and I disappear back into the mall. I head in the direction the man took Hayley, but I run in circle for a solid hour. They’re gone. Frustrated, angry, and desperate, I go out to my car and drive home. I think about her the entire time. She was so scared. So alone. Someone has to help her—she’s trapped.

  I can’t let this go on.

  I have to do something.

  Chapter Twelve

  I know something is wrong the second I walk inside the house.

  It’s a feeling more than anything. I can’t see anything disturbed, yet I know something is different. I glance around, my eyes darting back and forth across furniture, into the kitchen—nothing. I turn slowly and glance at the base of the stairs and there he is, standing, his arms crossed, glaring at me. It takes me by surprise and I leap backwards, one hand flying up to my mouth to smother my scream.

  “Heath?” I finally rasp.

  He steps down and farther into the light. He’s pissed. Like, majorly.

  He knows.

  I swallow.

  “What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You?” The words come out like a whip, and I take another step backwards.

  “She was alone, scared . . . I was just trying to help.”

  “I fucking told you to stay out of it,” he roars so loudly I flinch.

  He’s scary when he’s angry. Really s
cary.

  However, I can be just as fierce. “Yeah? Well I got sick of listening to you, considering you never stick around long enough to make your point valid,” I scream back.

  His jaw tics. “Do you want to fucking get hurt?”

  “Maybe,” I spit.

  “Jesus, Lucy! What the hell is wrong with you?” he yells, so loudly, his big body is twitching with every word. “Screaming like that in the middle of a mall!”

  “Fuck you.”

  He blinks. “Pardon?”

  “I said,” I scream, storming over and poking his chest, “fuck. You.”

  “Stop,” he warns.

  “Or what?” I challenge. “You’ll run away again? Go right the hell ahead, Heath. I don’t care. That girl needs help, and nothing you can say is going to stop me from making sure she gets it. I’m invested now. So get the hell over it.”

  His big body moves fast, hauling mine up and slamming me against the closest wall. I gasp as he presses into me, effectively pinning me. “Stubborn, pain in the ass, fuckin’ beautiful woman.”

  Then his lips crash down over mine.

  I moan, so damned tired of pretending. I want him. I’m not going to wait any longer. I kiss him back, and when his tongue slides into my mouth, I welcome it with a whimper. The kiss is passionate, and angry, and a little desperate—the way all good kisses should be. I claw at his shirt, unable to stop myself for a second longer. I jerk it up and he pulls back just long enough to let me pull it over his head.

  His body is so hard. His skin so hot.

  I press my lips to his shoulder, trailing my tongue along his collarbone and up his neck. He groans and takes hold of my shirt, pulling it off as fast as I removed his. His big hand then finds my breast, covering it entirely. I moan and arch into him. With his free hand he unhooks my bra, letting it fall to the ground, then he lowers his head and sucks my nipple into his mouth while shuffling me out of my jeans.

  “Oh God,” I whimper.

  He bites me.

  Pain shoots through my body, but I find myself arching into him even more, grinding my pelvis against his hand as he removes my jeans. My panties go quickly after them, and he growls in satisfaction as his hand finds the wetness pooling between my legs.

  “As sweet as I fucking imagined.”

  I tremble in his arms, reaching for his jeans and unbuttoning the top button. They fall down as soon as it’s released, and I find him commando beneath them. My mouth waters, and I peek down. His cock is beautiful; it’s also extremely terrifying to look at. I haven’t been with many men—two to be exact—and none of them were equipped like this. He’s massive, not overly long, but thick. I swallow.

  “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah,” he growls, taking my leg and hooking it around his hip. “Oh boy.”

  My eyes meet his and he positions his cock between us, giving me the lustiest, hottest look I’ve ever been given right before he glides into me. He does it in one, smooth motion—not too fast, not too slow, but straight in. I gasp, and the one leg holding me up trembles as pain and pleasure mix and shoot through my body. He grabs my ass and lifts me, freeing my poor leg from trying to hold on.

  Then he fucks me.

  He doesn’t do it slow—he does it hard and he does it fast.

  My fingers tangle into his hair and I jerk his mouth to mine, kissing and biting as he hammers my body against the wall. We’re both groaning, both moaning, both cursing. I bite his bottom lip and he growls, pulling me off the wall just an inch and slamming me back against it.

  “Be careful, sweetheart,” he warns, thrusting in and out, harder and harder.

  “Or what?” I gasp, letting my head fall back against the wall.

  He leans down, nuzzling my neck, then he bites me. It’s hard, painful, and sharp. I scream and dig my nails into his shoulder, making him hiss.

  “Fuck you,” I whimper. “Asshole.”

  “I am fucking you, baby.”

  No man has ever talked dirty to me. Gerard certainly didn’t have it in him.

  It turns me on.

  In big ways.

  An orgasm starts like liquid fire low in my belly, slowly creeping up little by little as he drives into me. Like fate, we find our release at the exact same time, both of us crying out as the best, most intense, most beautiful orgasm rocks us. I clutch him, body trembling, my sex grinding against him, letting it all out. I feel every pulse as he releases into me. It’s incredible.

  It takes a few minutes for us both to come down from the high we just rode together, and when we do, he carefully releases me and lets my feet touch the ground again. For a minute I just stand there, my legs weak on the floor, my eyes pointed down. What did I just do? Oh god. What did I just do? I put my hands against his chest and push him back before ducking out and rushing up the stairs.

  “Lucy!” he calls after me, but I don’t stop.

  I race to my bedroom and slam the door, sliding down against it and dropping my head into my hands. My husband hasn’t even been gone a month, and I’m already falling into bed with another man. What the hell is wrong with me? Tears trickle out and run down my cheeks. I’m such a horrible person.

  “Lucy!” Heath pounds on the door. “Open.”

  I don’t answer.

  “Open the door or I’ll climb in the damned window.”

  I look up to the window and notice it’s open. That’s how he got in.

  Jerk.

  “Three seconds or I come into that window.”

  I shuffle forward, and he must hear it because a second later the door opens and he steps in, shirtless, his jeans pulled up but unbuttoned. His hair is a mess, his body is perfect, and god dammit, he looks so fucking gorgeous. He kneels down in front of me, taking my chin in his hand and tilting my head back. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “My husband has been gone a few weeks, and I’m already sleeping with another man.”

  “Firstly and most importantly, your husband is gone, so you’ve done nothing wrong. Secondly, I’m not just another man, and you know it.”

  Dammit he’s right.

  Still.

  I look away.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. That was going to happen, now, a month down the track—eventually, I was going to have you, and you know it.”

  “I hate you, jerk,” I mutter.

  I peek up at him and he’s grinning down at me. “You don’t hate me. Now get up. We’re going to shower.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  His eyes flash. “Oh, we are. You either come with me willingly or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you anyway.”

  I stare defiantly at him.

  “Have it your way.” He leans closer, launches my body up and stands, me over his shoulder. I can’t help the smile that creeps across my face. This man. He’s messing with my head in the best kind of way, and I love it.

  “Stop smiling,” he mumbles, walking into my bathroom.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I huff.

  He slaps my ass.

  I can’t help it. I giggle.

  And it feels amazing because it feels like it’s been forever since that’s happened.

  Forever.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I mumble against Heath’s skin later that night as we lie in bed.

  “Stop overthinking it.”

  “Everyone in my life thinks you’re imaginary, you disappear more than you’re around, yet here I am in bed with you. Something is very wrong with this picture.”

  “Yeah. You overthinking it.”

  I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see.

  “Don’t roll your eyes.”

  I push up and stare down at him. “How do you know I rolled my eyes?”

  “I could feel it.”

  I snort. “Whatever. Are you some sort of super spy or something?”

  He grins.

  I put my head back against his chest. “Seriously, how do you always know where I am
?”

  “I have eyes on you.”

  I screw up my nose. “You have eyes on me? What kind of eyes? Your eyes?”

  He grunts. “No. Not always. Mostly other people’s.”

  “Other people? Who?” I cry, pushing up again.

  He scans my face, and his grin turns into a smile. “I have people that are willing to help me.”

  I huff. “Can’t you just tell me what it is you’re doing?”

  He loses his smile. “I wish I could, believe me, but I can’t right now. I’m in too deep.”

  “So am I.”

  His hand travels up my spine, stopping between my shoulder blades. “No, you’re not. You’re going to stay out of this.”

  “That girl is scared and alone, not to mention all the others who are probably in there. I can’t just stay out of it, Heath. They need help.”

  “And that’s what I’m working on. If you interfere, you could make it worse.”

  “Then let me help.”

  His eyes harden. “No fucking way.”

  “Please, let me help. I can do something. I can get information . . .”

  “No, you can’t. They know who you are now after your little song and dance in the mall. There is no way you can be seen anywhere near it or me again.”

  I swallow the tight lump forming in my throat. “So what? I’m just a booty call for you then? Someone you see when you feel like it?”

  He sighs and moves his hand higher, fisting my hair. “Don’t do that. You know you mean more to me, Lucy. I wish I could see you more, too.”

  “At least give me a way to contact you,” I plead. “If you want me to stop looking and stop involving myself, then you need to give me something.”

  “Fuck, you’re a pain in the ass. You were sweet once, I’m sure.”

  I smile.

  He cups my face. “Fine. I’ll give you a cell number you can call me on, but be aware it’s off a lot and I won’t always answer.”