by R. R. Banks
She shakes her head. “Not tonight,” she says. “I think I need a little sleep tonight.”
I pull her to me, longing to feel her body. To be inside of her. My cravings and desire for Bailey only increase with each passing day. Which is both a blessing, and a curse, I think.
“I'd let you sleep with me,” I offer.
She laughs softly. “There's a difference between passing out from being physically spent, and actually getting some sleep.”
“Okay,” I say and plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Fair enough.”
She gives me a grateful little smile, then starts to turn away. I hold her hand and turn her back to me again. Something isn’t right. I don't know what it is, but I know it. I can see it plain as day. I just wish she'd talk to me about it.
“You sure it's nothing I did?”
“Positive,” she says. “I promise.”
I nod and kiss her cheek before letting go of her hand. She stands on her tip-toes and places a soft kiss on my lips before turning away and heading upstairs, leaving me alone in the silence of the house's lower level.
The staff is busy cleaning up from our dinner, and I have nothing to do. Tomorrow's going to be a long day too, so I should probably just go to bed and get some rest.
I head upstairs, and as I walk down the hallway, my eyes linger on the door at the end – Bailey's door. I don't even necessarily need to have sex with her tonight. Just feeling her body snuggled up close to me would be enough. I just wish I knew what was going on with her today.
I step into my room and close the door behind me. Reaching out, I flip on the light and freeze. Posed very seductively, and wearing next-to-nothing, is Laurel. Because, of course, she's laying on my bed half-naked.
Wearing black stilettos, thigh-high stockings, a garter belt, black panties, and a matching bra, Laurel is the picture of seduction. The way she's splayed out on my bed, you'd swear she's doing a photoshoot for any number of men's magazines.
I can't deny that she's gorgeous. Laurel has always been a knockout. She's a beautiful woman, no question about it. But, I wouldn't fuck her with somebody else's dick.
“Wow, bringing out the big guns, huh?” I ask.
“I know what you like,” she purrs. “I just wanted you to remember that. Remember that I can give you things nobody else can because I know you, Colin.”
“That may have been true at one point, but that time has long passed,” I say.
She writhes around on the bed, cupping her own breasts, and running her tongue seductively across her lips. Laurel gets to her knees on the bed, her gaze locked on mine, and slides her hand between her thighs. She slips her hand into her panties and starts to touch herself. She moans and gasps softly as she grinds on herself.
She's seriously pulling out all the stops tonight.
I lean against the door and fold my arms over my chest, my expression one of total boredom. If it had been Bailey on my bed doing that, I would have been all over it. In a heartbeat. It's crazy, but all Bailey has to do to make me hard is give me a certain look. If she flashes me a sultry little look or bites her bottom lip, I become rock hard in an instant. If she were there, writhing and grinding on my bed, touching herself like Laurel is doing right now, I actually might die from happiness.
Watching Laurel put on her little show, however, doesn't turn me on – not in the least. In fact, I think it's kind of sad, to be honest. Desperate. She's clinging to something she knows she can't have – I mean, come on, she has to know, on some level, that she's never getting me back, right? – but is desperately trying to hang on to it anyway.
She thinks that by ticking off all the boxes on my arousal checklist, I'm going to lose control of myself and bang her. The problem is – at least, for Laurel, anyway – is that for me to want to sleep with someone, I need more than what I can get from just watching porn. I need that connection. I need that bond and trust.
All three are things Laurel callously threw away, and Bailey and I have in spades.
“Don't you want me, baby?” she moans.
“Not really,” I say.
“You know you want me,” she says. “I can see how hard you are for me.”
“Well, I do want you to get out of my room,” I say. “And if you think I'm hard, you better get your eyes checked.”
She pouts for a moment, then unhooks her bra, letting it fall, sliding off the bed. Her hips swishing, her breasts bouncing, and her eyes locked onto mine, she crosses the room.
“This is not happening,” I say.
“Yes, it is.”
“It's really not. Now, get out of my room – in fact, get out of my house – before I call the police,” I say. “It was a mistake to let you come here in the first place.”
“Don't say that, baby,” she says. “I saw you and Bailey in the living room the other night. It didn’t look like you were having much fun.”
What the hell.
“Don't call me that,” I seethe, anger pulsing through my veins. “I knew you were fucking watching us. That’s it, Laurel, I’m done with your shit. Get out of my house. Now.”
“Where am I going to go?” she pouts.
“Not my problem,” I say. “You wore out your welcome here.”
“If I say I'm sorry, can I stay?”
“Nope.”
“If I say I'm sorry, and I suck your cock, can I stay?”
I look at her for a long moment and shake my head. “What in the hell is wrong with you?” I ask. “What in the hell happened to you? When did you turn into this pathetic, disgusting excuse of a human being?”
I see tears welling in her eyes, but she blinks them back. She's determined to make something out of this – to make her little seduction game work. She doesn't seem to realize, though, that she's already failed. Miserably.
Laurel reaches down, grabbing hold of my cock through my pants and gripping it tightly. I grab her by the wrist, and push her backward, pushing her up against the wall. I pin her arms over her head, my face inches from her. Fury radiates from my every pore, and a thousand thoughts, each darker than the last, float through my mind.
Laurel moans loudly, a small smile touching her lips. I have no idea what she thinks she's doing. This is about the least sexy thing I can think of, but she's acting like she's about to come.
“Yes, baby,” she moans. “Give it to me hard and rough. Just like you used to. Just how I like it. Give it to me, baby.”
Confusion sweeps over me and I'm starting to think she's lost her mind, until I realize she's not looking at me. She's looking past me. Letting go of her wrists, I turn around and see Bailey standing in my bedroom doorway, her face red and blotchy, tears rolling down her cheeks. A gasping sob bursts from her throat, and she shakes her head.
“Bailey, this is not –”
“Shut up, Colin!” she screams. “Just shut up. You're a liar. You are such a goddamn liar.”
I take a step toward her, but she backs up. I stop moving and try to implore her with my eyes.
“This isn't what you're thinking,” I say. “It's pretty far –”
“I can't believe I listened to you. I trusted you,” she spits. “I can't believe I let myself fall in love with you.”
“Didn't I tell you, Bailey?” Laurel croons.
I round on her. “Shut the fuck up, Laurel!”
Laurel just laughs, as Bailey backs away toward the door. Her sweet, innocent face is the picture of absolute heartbreak, and it's tearing me apart inside. I have no idea what Laurel said to her, nor do I care right now. All I know is that it's pushing us apart.
“He's all yours now, Laurel,” Bailey says. “You were right. You two do belong together.”
She throws her engagement ring at me, then turns and runs back out into the hall. I step toward her, but she flees. I hear her footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor as she heads for the front door. A hand grasps my shoulder, trying to hold me tight. I round on Laurel again.
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I s
nap.
“Baby, this is the way it should be, though.”
I remove her hand, and give her a gentle shove, just to clear out some space between us. She hits the wall behind her with a muffled curse, and I sprint for the door. Bailey has a lead on me, but as I bound down the stairs, I think I can catch her before she gets to the end of the driveway.
“Bailey,” I call to her. “Wait. This is not what you think!”
She reaches the front door ahead of me and throws it open. I reach the door just as Bailey darts across the porch and starts jogging down the short flight of stairs. What happens next feels like it happens in slow motion – and I'm too far away to do anything about it.
I watch as Bailey's feet slide out from under her. She falls backwards, a strangled cry escaping her. Bailey's feet fly up as her head goes down, and the next thing I hear is a sickening crack as she hits the steps headfirst. She slides down the ice-covered stairs, coming to rest at the bottom, where she lays completely motionless and still.
“Oh, God. Oh, shit!” I yell, then turn back and scream into the house. “Somebody call 9-1-1! Anyone! Get some help out here now!”
As I start to cross the porch, I hear feet pounding on the floor inside the house behind me as they bound down the steps. I reach the bottom of the porch steps where Bailey is laying and kneel down beside her. I turn my head and try to listen for her breath. I hear nothing. I put my fingers to her neck, hoping I feel something – but, feel nothing. I know better than to move her, even though she's laying in a pile of snow. She may have suffered spinal cord damage, and if I move her, I run the risk of making it worse – of turning something that she could have recovered from into something horrible and permanent.
Paige and Holly drop into the snow beside me, tears streaming down their cheeks. They look to me for answers, but I'm in too much shock to say a damn word. My brothers are standing on the steps of the porch above us, clearly not knowing what to do with themselves.
“The ambulance is on the way,” Aidan says. “I told them to put a rush on it.”
I nod, unable to take my eyes off of Bailey. Her lips are turning blue, and I can't tell if she's breathing or not. She's so motionless. So still. I'm afraid that she's dead – it's killing me inside.
Paige puts a gentle hand on my arm, forcing me to look at her. “What happened, Colin?” she asks. “What was she doing out here in the middle of the night?
I look up and see Laurel – dressed now – standing in the archway of the front door. She has a sweater pulled tight around her, and a look of faux-concern on her face. The rage in me threatens to boil over.
“Ask her,” I say.
All eyes turn to Laurel, and she shrugs. “Bailey, I guess, saw something she didn't like when she walked in on Colin and I having a little fun.”
I stand up, glowering at her. “You are such a fucking liar,” I say. “She was in my room after dinner, wearing next to nothing, trying to get something going.”
“That's not exactly how I remember it happening, Colin,” she says. “It's okay to admit it. We're both grown, consenting adults.”
“Is that why I heard Colin shouting at you to get out of his room?” Katie asks, stepping out of the doorway behind Laurel. “Because, that didn’t sound like a consenting adult to me.”
“You need to leave, Laurel,” Paige says. “And you need to leave now.”
“I don't have anywhere to go,” Lauren pouts, as if that ends the debate.
“Not our problem,” Holly says. “Get your things and get out. Now.”
“This is a misunderstanding,” Laurel says. “A total and complete –”
All of the sudden, Brayden's massive frame is looming over her. His eyes are alight with a rage I've seldom seen in him before, and his face is a mask of fury.
“Get your shit and get the fuck out of here!” he roars. “You do it on your own, or I'll pack your shit and drag you out of here myself. You have three seconds to decide. Three...”
Laurel looks around at each of us, her eyes wide with fear. “Are you really going to do this?” she whines. “Are you really going to throw me out in the cold on Christmas?”
“Two...”
“Colin, baby,” she says. “Please –”
“One.”
Brayden takes a menacing step toward her, but Laurel spins on her heel and runs into the house, bounding up the stairs and to the guest room she's been staying in.
“Somebody needs to make sure she's packing her shit, and I don't trust myself around her right now,” Brayden says.
“I'll go,” Aidan replies.
The world is suddenly awash in red and blue strobing lights as the ambulance comes roaring down the driveway. I fall to my knees beside Bailey again, feeling my heart shattering at the thought of anything happening to her.
The EMTs force me out of the way as they check her over. I stand to the side, my family around me, offering their support. Paige and Holly each have one of my hands in theirs, and my brothers all have a hand on my shoulder. I knew I cared for Bailey. That was never a question. But, in that moment, as I watch them carefully move her onto the gurney, and then load that into the ambulance, their faces grim, and giving me no signal of hope that she'll be okay, I realize that I love her. I love her so much, I can't bear the thought of living without her.
Bailey
The first thing I'm aware of is the harshness of the bright lights overhead, and the stringent, acrid aroma that unmistakably belongs to a hospital. Then, as if I'm suddenly tuning into the right frequency, I start hearing sounds – a series of beeps, and other mechanical sounding noises.
As my senses all start coming back to me, I become keenly aware of the pain radiating throughout my head. I have never felt such agony before, and I almost wish they could cut it off so I don't have to experience it anymore.
I groan before sitting up and opening my eyes – and find myself staring straight at Colin, perched on the edge of the bed. He lets out a relieved sigh and a small smile curls his lips upward.
“Welcome back,” he says. “You had us all worried sick.”
I look around the room, finding it empty, and have trouble recalling who the “us” is that he's talking about.
“What happened?” I ask.
“You don't remember?”
“If I remembered, would I be asking what happened?”
He grins at me. “I see the fall didn't affect your attitude,” he says. “That's a big relief.”
“I feel like I'm pissed at you,” I say. “Something happened, and I'm pissed at you. What happened?”
He lets out a long breath. “You slipped on the steps a couple of nights ago,” he explains. “Went down awkwardly and hit your head really hard.”
I nod, but even that movement sends pain radiating through my entire body.
“Why am I pissed at you?” I ask.
“Would you believe me if I said you're not, and it's just a side-effect of your fall?” he asks, grinning.
“There's something there. Something happened,” I say. “I remember running out of your room –”
I bite off my words as images start flooding back into my mind. Then, everything starts to come back to me. Bit by bit, the picture in my mind becomes complete, and I remember. And as I do, I feel the anger bubbling up like some toxic stew in a witch's cauldron.
I cut my eyes over to Colin. A look of dismay crosses his face, and he lowers his eyes.
“The doctors said your memory would probably come back in a rush like that,” he says.
“Get out of my room,” I hiss.
“Not yet,” he says. “Not until you hear the real story.”
“The real story?” I spit. “The real story is I saw you with that bitch, half-naked, pinned to the wall, fucking her.”
“That's not the real story, Bailey,” he says.
“Like hell it's not.”
I see a dark expression cross his face as he clenches his jaw. He stands up from the bed and slips his
hands into his pockets, turning his back to me, and looking out the window. As I look at him, I feel my heart breaking. How could he do that? How could he betray me like that?
It only confirms the thoughts I've secretly harbored in the back of my mind – that Colin is no different from any of the others. That he does what he wants when he wants, without care about who gets hurts along the way. He does things his way, and if you don’t like it, you can piss right off.
It kills me to realize that I let myself fall in love with a man who would throw me away like a piece of garbage.
“After you went to your room, I went to mine,” Colin starts speaking, his back still to me. “When I went in, Laurel was already there – dressed exactly like you saw her. She tried to seduce me. Tried to get me to sleep with her. She did everything she could think of to get me to sleep with her. And I said no. I said no a thousand times. In fact, right before you came in, I was telling her to get the fuck out of my house.”
“Yeah, it sure looked that way with you fucking her up against the wall like that, Colin.”
He rounds on me, his face a mask of outrage. “I never fucked her, Bailey,” he growls. “My pants never came off. She tried to take them off of me. That's when I grabbed her and pinned her to the wall. To make her stop. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her because I'm in love with you.”
Those last few words hit me with a ton of force, leaving me lightheaded and gasping for air. Words I longed to hear, I'm suddenly hearing, and I have to wonder if I'm only hearing them because he got caught fucking another woman.
I shake my head, then remember why I’m in the hospital in the first place, as explosions of pain light up my brain. “I want to believe you, Colin,” I say. “God, you have no idea how badly I want to believe you. But, I know what I saw.”
“No, you know what you think you saw,” he says, the frustration in his voice clear. “My pants were never off. There is no way I would have done what you think I did.”
“It's true, Bailey.”
I groan as I turn my head to see my new visitor. My head is throbbing, and I don't know if I need more drugs or more sleep. Katie is standing in the doorway of the room, looking at me with a concerned smile on her face. She gives me an awkward little wave.