To Burn In Brutal Rapture

by Nyla K

  “I know. I miss you, too.”

  “Damien, I… There’s something I was meaning to ask you. And I never got the chance.” I bite my lip, still holding onto his hand for dear life, so afraid that once I let it go, I’ll never feel it again.

  He shows me a wicked grin. “Yes, I thought about our two nights together all the time. You wanna know how many times I jerked off thinking about you?”

  A laugh bubbles and I shake my head. “No, dickhead, that’s not what I was going to ask you.”

  “Are you sure about that?” He squints and my stomach fills with warmth.

  “Fuck off. No. I wanted to ask you…” I swallow hard, and the smile slips from my mouth. “Why didn’t you come for me? On my wedding night… After Evangeline blew me off. I was lost and I needed you to find me. Why didn’t you stay?”

  Damien’s face turns nostalgic as he stares at our joined hands. “Lazarus… You have no idea how badly I wanted to be there for you that night. But you and I both know if I had, things would have turned out very, very different.”

  I gape at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea. Day, that night… It changed everything. That’s the night when…”

  I force myself to stop, though I’m not sure why.

  Damien chuckles. “Lazarus, I’m a manifestation of your subconscious. I know everything you know. Meaning I know what happened that night…”

  “Right…” I hum and glance at the floor. But he takes my face and brings it back up so I’m forced to lock my eyes on his; those deep green irises. Looking into them makes me feel like he’s really here and it’s ripping me apart. “It should’ve been you in my hotel room that night.”

  He shakes his head. “No, it shouldn’t have.”

  “How can you say that? After everything…”

  “Because she needed you as much as you needed her,” he whispers, my stomach twisting into an unbearable knot. “She still does, Lazarus. I’m fine. I’m with my wife, and I’m at peace. I need you to take care of my daughter.”

  My jaw clenches and I feel dizzy. I don’t understand what’s happening right now… But as much as I know he’s not really here, it feels like he is.

  It feels like he’s talking to me, through my heart.

  “I’m not good for her,” I grunt, putting up a solid internal fight. “I’m not good for anyone. My heart is cursed.”

  “You’re not a curse, Lazarus Weston. You’re a storm,” his voice murmurs, echoing through my brain. “Anyone who’s strong enough to survive you deserves all the love your giant heart can give.”

  My chest feels like it’s caving in.

  “I’m not letting go, baby. I’m still here. But now I need you to come back… For her.”

  “Damien… I’m… Sorry…”

  My eyelids fall again, and I fight against it with all my strength.

  I feel the cold rushing over me as my best friend leans in and presses his lips to mine. I cry quietly into his mouth, and he holds me close.

  Until I feel him slip away.

  I look around frantically squeezing for a hand I know damn well isn’t there. It guts me alive, once more.

  Yet as painful as it is, I have to listen to him.

  I have to trust him.

  I’m not letting go.

  But I need to come back for her.

  I need to rise, for her.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Lazarus

  It’s well past three in the morning when I slink through the dark hallway of the west wing.

  Pushing gently on the door to Traci’s room, I sneak inside and peer through the dimly lit space. I can’t really see her, but I know she’s in here sleeping. She’s the small lump buried under the covers in the middle of her bed.

  The reaction my heart has just to seeing her tiny form in that giant bed, curled up and cozy, is overwhelming. Then again, all my feelings for Traci in the last year have been overwhelming. Just as confusing as any other feelings my heart has highlighted for another human being.

  Emotions have always bewildered me a little. But for the first time in my life, I think I want this unease. I want the way every nerve in my body seems to tense when I’m looking at Tracien Wright. I’m beginning to enjoy that twisty sensation in my gut.

  It makes me feel alive.

  Stepping closer to the bed, I acknowledge what needs to happen right now. In my mind, I’ve accepted why I’m here. Tonight, I’m not meant to just look at her, or watch her sleep.

  We need to talk. Finally.

  Still, I take a moment to stare at the mound nestled beneath the covers. I can barely see her face peeking out, the rest of her covered. It brings a small grin to my lips. She’s so damn cute.

  And it’s obvious how much younger she is than me, but I’m not unnerved by it anymore.

  I think I need her the way she is. Full of youth, yet layered by all her experiences.

  And apparently she needs me, too. That makes her the most special person in the entire world.

  I’ve never been needed the way Tracien needs me. It awakens me, like a flower blooming in the dried up wasteland of my heart.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed at her left and watch her face, eyelids fluttering, though she’s still sound asleep. I’m jealous. I haven’t slept like that in months. And while I don’t necessarily want to wake her from her slumber, I can’t stop myself from reaching out to brush the messy hair away from her forehead. Her roots are showing a little, and I love it.

  Not that I didn’t enjoy the black hair, because I definitely did. It made her look older, and sultry; it certainly fit her Trixie persona. But now that my love for this girl is out in the forefront of my mind, I just want her. The real her, whatever that may look like.

  I want her to love herself the way I love her.

  Her lips part while she breathes softly and my thumb grazes underneath the bottom; that full, naturally pink piece of kissable perfection. I think Traci’s lips are one of my favorite things about her. Soft and plush, when they part you can just barely see her top teeth. It reminds me of the first time she kissed me… When she was a kid.

  At the time I was horrified. My instinct was to feel guilty, like I’d done something wrong. And then I channeled my confusion and frustrations on her; the poor girl who took a chance on kissing an older man.

  Her first kiss. I regard her in perplexity, marveling in this. I’ve been her first everything. Her only everything.

  It’s crazy but in this moment, part of me actually regrets my excessive sexual exploits. I can’t take back the firsts I’ve had with women who aren’t Traci. But I could make her my last.

  That is, if she can stand to look at me after I tell her the truth.

  “Traci,” I whisper her name in the dark, index finger trailing her jaw. “Baby…”

  She stirs a bit and makes a soft noise that warms my chest.

  “We need to talk.” I lie down on my side to face her, playing with her hair.

  “Are you really waking me up right now?” She grumbles, and a grin tugs the corner of my lips. I like her being the grouchy one for a change. She blinks her glistening blues open until she’s staring at me, sleepiness lining those big eyes. “I’m serious, Lazarus. You’ve had all the time in the world to speak to me.”

  Swallowing down my guilt, I nod. “I know.”

  She straightens up and scoots closer, her voice no more than a fragile breath. “You left me alone, Lazarus. Where were you?”

  “I promise you weren’t alone, baby,” I hold her face in my palm. Her beautiful, sad face. “I was here. I just couldn’t…”

  My words trail as I shake my head. Traci lifts the comforter and tugs it, tossing it over me until we’re both nestled under the blanket together. She’s all I can smell, and it’s enlivening; like a fresh cup of coffee and some sunshine for my soul. That scent of wildflowers and sugar, like every delicious, bright, fluffy thing I can think of.

  She’s my beautiful treat. My candy blossom.
/>   Traci sighs and smooshes herself into me, tucking her face into the crook of my neck while her body melts to mine. Soft little breaths on my flesh tickle, registering in my dick, which has been on a time-out for a while now. The feeling instantly sets my blood on fire, and I’m practically panting for her already.

  My arms surround her slight frame, holding her close while she sniffs me and kisses my neck. My cock is stiff, sandwiched between us, and I know she feels it, writhing herself into me a bit.

  “I missed you so bad.” She shivers in my arms as her fingers trace the nape of my neck, sending even more tingles across my body.

  I have such a strong reaction to this girl. It’s still baffling, but I’m no longer hiding from it or fighting it. It’s strange, but I like it a lot.

  I like not having to worry about doing the wrong thing.

  And yet I didn’t come in here to fool around, though I’d love nothing more than to rip the sheer material from her flesh and consume her. After months and months and fucking months without her, without anyone, I’m wound up beyond belief.

  But we need to talk…

  “Traci, there’s something…” my words come out gruff from the feeling of her supple body grinding against me. “I have to tell you something. We need to talk.”

  “You had your chance to talk to me, Lazarus,” she breathes. “Now you come into my bed in the middle of the night after months of depriving me and you want to have a chat?”

  I can’t hide the amusement in my eyes as I pull back enough to look at her. Blue eyes hooded with desire, a look I’ve come to adore; one that’s been haunting my mind for a while now.

  “Depriving you?” I lift my brow at her.

  “Well… yea,” she mutters sheepishly, then bites her lip. “You got me addicted to the feeling of you, and then you vanished.”

  The way this girl feels about me is the ultimate rush, sending me soaring through space.

  “I wasn’t staying away from you because I wanted to, Traci…”

  “I know, but Lazarus, you’ve been breaking every night. I heard you.” She pauses. “You could’ve taken out that aggression on me.”

  My breathing shallows while we stare at each other. The pulse in my erection matches the steady beating of my heart in my chest, and my fingers twitch with the need to grab her and toss her around and show her just how much goddamn aggression I have inside me.

  But again… “We have to talk, Tracien.” This time my tone is firm.

  I need her to understand how serious this is. And the unfortunate fact is that after we discuss this topic, after I finally come clean with her about the truth of the matter, she might not want to have sex with me, ever again. Jesus, I really hope that’s not the case. But I mean… It’s a strong possibility.

  Traci always listens to me, and right now is no different. Her face becomes fully serious, to match mine, eyes wide as she radiates unease.

  I witness her swallow before she takes my hand in hers. “Is this about the journal?”

  I squint at her. “What journal?”

  Her gaze drifts, and she appears slightly guilty, which reminds me she was in my private office the other day. I knew she was in there, but I figured there was no point in stopping her. I’ve never intentionally hid things about my past from Traci, and I suppose if we’re going to talk about this serious shit, then we might as well lay it all on the table.

  “You found my files?” I bring her hand to my lips to kiss her knuckles. “From all my foster families?”

  She nods, eyes coming back to mine. “I didn’t mean to snoop through your things…”

  “Don’t lie to me, Trix,” I warn, and she grins. I love how unaffected she is by my grumpiness. She seems to like it, and it just reminds me of how much she loves everything about me.

  Such a spectacular rush.

  “Okay, I was snooping on purpose,” she admits. “I just wanted to feel closer to you. I’ve been so… alone.”

  That one word guts me. If anyone knows about feeling alone, it’s me. After Damien died, I should have been there for her. Instead, I couldn’t handle it, and I forced us both to be alone, when we could have been lonely together.

  “It’s in the past, Traci. All of those parents… My Four, and Birdie. I don’t like to talk about them.”

  “I know,” she says, though it seems like there’s a lot more she wants to say about it. But instead, she asks, “So what did you want to talk to me about then, if not that?”

  Sudden jitteriness makes it hard to keep still. I sit up in the bed and Traci quickly scoots onto my lap.

  “Don’t leave! Please,” she squeaks, and my eyes widen at her. “You can talk to me about anything, Lazarus, just please don’t go again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I rumble, perplexed as my fingers comb through her silky hair. “I’m not leaving you again, not unless you tell me to.”

  “I would never tell you to leave me,” she hums, and I shake my head.

  “Hold that thought…” Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes while I attempt to figure out how the fuck to even start this. “I have to tell you something, and it’s going to come as quite a shock. It might hurt you, Tracien. Actually, I’m sure it will. But I need you to know, and then maybe we can figure out… what happens next.”

  She flutters her doe eyes. “Lazarus, you’re scaring me.”

  I gulp, struggling to keep my voice even as I tell her, “Your father and I… We were… uh… Jesus Christ, how do I say this?” I clear my throat a bunch of times, in line with the rapid blinking. “Traci, me and your dad were… more. He was my best friend in the whole world, yes, but there was a time, one time, five years ago, when we were more than that.”

  I pause, remembering to breathe while Traci stares at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about. I push past the dizziness and just keep going.

  “It wasn’t the first time we’d ever been together. There was a time in college, with your Mom and my girlfriend, if you could call her that, which was more of an isolated… crazy night, I guess. But the time five years ago, that was just us. Just Damien and me. It never happened again, and we didn’t talk about it. We never talked about it, actually. Until the night he died…”

  The pressure building up inside my skull is insufferable, like a soda can that’s been shaken up, about to pop. I knew telling Traci about this would be difficult, but I expected at least a little relief in getting this secret out.

  Instead, I’m wound up, on the verge of exploding emotions from every pore.

  My face aims down between us, an uneasy stare focusing on where her small body sits atop my lap, legs draped over my waist. My hand runs up her thigh, just to feel something nice and warm for a moment, before she freaks the fuck out and screams in my face.

  I’m more than surprised when her small hand cups my jaw and tugs me so I’m forced to make eye contact again. I swallow hard, leaning into her soft touch.

  “Keep going.” Her voice is barely audible.

  She appears stunned by my words and my confession, but honestly she doesn’t look ruined, and she’s telling me to talk…

  So I do. “That one night, it was an isolated thing, and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. But I guess it did, and neither of us were really prepared to deal with what that meant. Then he found out about me and you, and… shit got real. Traci, you and I have something so imperfectly perfect. It’s like the best bad thing in the world. And it had nothing to do with my feelings for your father. They were… are two separate things.”

  My palms sweat, hands shaky at the trouble I’m finding to voice my feelings in a way that makes sense. There’s so much I need to say, and I can’t get the words to formulate into clear sentences. If I’m being honest, I might be having a panic attack.

  “Lazarus, breathe,” Traci says, and I follow her instructions without debate. “In through the nose, out through the mouth. Like yoga, remember?”

  I’m unable to help the twitch in my l
ips as I do what she says, finding myself breathing easier already.

  I swallow before continuing on with my story. “When Damien ended our friendship, it was like I lost this whole other part of my life. A future I hadn’t even considered possible until he took him away. That day, before he… died… We talked, and he forgave me. I mean, he was… He was going to. He was coming over here so we could talk.” My voice catches in my throat and I clear it. “He was coming so we could see… what was next.”

  I shove my fingers through my hair and yank it hard, releasing a ragged breath.

  “I loved your father, Tracien. I loved him in a way I’ve never loved anyone before, and it was scary and confusing. But I need you to know that… I feel it with you as well. And I know that’s fucked up, but it’s true. It’s different and yet, the same. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s the only way to describe it.”

  Our eyes lock in a powerful staring contest, holding the gaze that contains so many things words can’t explain.

  “I was never supposed to fall in love with you…” I whisper. “It’s so fucking wrong. But I did.”

  Traci exhales, her lip visibly quivering. She’s quiet for a while, and so am I. Just breathing in all this newfound information, floating in the air between us.

  It’s too much for her… She can’t love me back. There’s no way.

  Eventually, her lips part, but it still takes her a moment to speak.

  “You never knew what you were to each other?” Her tone is curious in wondering. “You and my dad?”

  My head sways in response. “It was only supposed to be physical. Just one time. He was hurting, and I needed to help him. And it was five years ago. Five years of never speaking a word about it. Then after our fight, I thought for a moment that maybe we could be more. I know I loved him that way…” I pause and shake my head again. “But it wasn’t meant to happen like that.”

  Damien’s voice rings through my mind…

  “Everything worked out the way it was supposed to,” I breathe, remembering the feel of his hand in mine when he told me this; a hallucination to my overtired mind, I’m sure. But it certainly felt real. “As fucked up as that sounds, I truly believe your dad is happy where he is. He’s with your Mom and he’s happy.”