by Jessica Roe
My mother finally looked up at me then. She almost appeared. . .to be having some sort of emotion, though she did well to hide it.
“I apologize for any pain this may cause,” Mom said stiffly, regaining herself. Her hands stopped moving and she folded them neatly on her knees. “I understand what it is to lose a child. But I think we can both agree that this is for the best.”
When Mom reached over with one of her perfectly manicured hands and rested it upon my shoulder, I flinched. It was a brief offer of comfort but it was more than she'd ever given me, even when Spencer had died. Back then she'd been too consumed by her own grief to realize I'd needed help with mine. It was one thing I'd never blamed her for.
She left me then, grateful to have gotten her news out of the way, and I sat there on my bed in complete stillness for hours, staring unseeingly at a blank spot on the wall with blurry eyes as I tried to come to terms with what my mother had told me.
An ache formed and grew inside my chest. I wanted desperately to somehow grab onto it, to squash it down into a ball and push it back where it had come from, but it only blossomed. Growing. Suffocating me. Consuming me whole.
My baby. . .
Our baby. . .
The baby I’d accused Phee of lying about, the baby I'd said might not even be mine even though I'd known without a shadow of a doubt that it was. Phee would never betray me; I trusted her implicitly.
It was the same kind of trust she'd had in me, only she hadn't destroyed it like I had.
Our baby was gone.
Suddenly I leaned over the side of the bed and retched, but it had been so long since I'd eaten that nothing came up.
Oh God, Phee. Was she in pain? Had the miscarriage hurt her? Was she sick? Did she need me?
And then, like the air disappearing from a burst balloon, all of that unjust anger I'd been feeling towards the girl I loved vanished and the horror of how I'd treated her hit me. For real this time.
I dropped to my knees by my bed as self-loathing and disgust crippled me.
What had I done?
I blamed myself for Phee losing the baby. It was my entire fucking fault. If I hadn't said those awful things to her, if I hadn't broken her heart, then maybe the baby would still be alive.
It was my fault.
I wanted to go to her, to be with her and hold her, to somehow try and make things right. But what I'd said, it was unforgivable, and I wasn't sure there was a way I could ever make that right. In fact I was almost certain there wasn't.
So like a spineless coward, I stayed away. Remained inside my prison.
Phee would be better off without a fuck up like me anyway.
Chapter 21
Nathan
MY PHONE RANG. I didn't mean to answer it, but the action was automatic.
“Hey, Nathan.”
I pulled the cell from my ear to double check the screen with a raised eyebrow. Eamon, Phee's fake boyfriend. He never called. Phee had forbidden it after he'd tried to talk dirty to me too many times.
“Sup, bro?” I asked tiredly. As was pretty much standard these days, I was laying fully clothed on top of my bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what a piece of shit I was. I wasn't even sure when the last time I'd changed clothes was.
He sighed down the phone. “Not much, man. I just wanted to let you know. . .Phee's leaving town. Her mom and dad are sending her to live with her aunt in LA. I don't know what's happened between you guys, and she told me not to tell you, but I thought you should know. I'd want to know if someone I loved was leaving.”
My body went cold. The next thing I knew I was hurling my phone across the room, yelling out in outrage as it smashed against the wall, the pieces dropping to the wooden floor with a clatter.
I grew numb as my anger quickly thawed and shock took its place.
Phee was. . .leaving?
She was leaving.
I'd never see her again. At least before I'd had the chance to make things right, even if I'd been too cowardly to actually do it. But now I would have nothing. No more chances. Phee would be gone from my life for good.
And it was that thought that finally catapulted me out of bed and kicked my ass into gear.
I had to go see her.
Now.
Without even bothering to change out of the clothes I'd been wearing for days, I shoved on my sneakers and sprinted downstairs, relieved my parents were both out – Dad at work and Mom at lunch with the ladies.
Where in the fuck were my car keys?
“Your parents took the keys to all the cars,” Tilly informed me, seeming to pop up from nowhere. Sympathy lined her young face. She was in her late twenties, but with her ginger hair always tied back tight she looked much younger. She'd stayed on longer than any of our other maids here had, because despite my father probably trying on more than one occasion, she'd managed to refrain from jumping into bed with him like all the rest. “Even yours.”
“The spares?” I asked desperately. Mother and Father must have known Phee was being sent away and figured I'd try going to her. The bastards.
Tilly winced. “Those too, sir.”
“FUCK!” I yelled hoarsely, then immediately felt bad and apologized to Tilly. She shouldn't have to put up with my shitty temper on top of all the other crap this family put her through.
“You could take my bike,” she suggested hesitantly. It was as if she was afraid I might actually say yes.
I cocked my head to one side as I studied her. “Did my parents threaten to fire you if you let me borrow it?”
“They said they'd make sure no one in the state would ever hire me again,” she confirmed cheerily. The fact that she'd still suggested I take her bike after a threat like that was Tilly all over. Selfless, through and through.
“Don't worry,” I said, patting her shoulder. “But thank you.”
Her little sigh was relieved. “Then what're you gonna do?”
I took a deep breath and lifted my shoulders. “Guess I'm gonna run.”
+++
SO I RAN.
I ran and I ran and I fucking ran for three hours, until finally I came to the lake Phee and I had spent so much time at together. I had to stop for ten minutes then and flop down by the water because my body was just about to give up on me in protest – Nash was the athlete of our little group, not me.
But after five minutes I got anxious and I jumped up again, sprinting through the woods towards Phee's house. She'd always been way better at this than me, able to dart through the trees like a little woodland pixie, but I was by far less graceful and bumped and crashed through the branches, scraping my arms raw.
I came to a sudden halt when I spotted Phee's house through the trees in the distance. Terror like I'd never known it overwhelmed my senses. Treading carefully, I got as close as I dared, wary of being seen by her parents who would surely chase me away with pitchforks and burning torches the second they caught sight of me. Evening was fast approaching, but it was still light enough out that anybody inside the house might spot me if they happened to be looking this way.
Panting, sweating and wildly out of breath, I leaned back against the knobbly trunk of a thick tree and. . .and nothing.
I did nothing.
That's right. After all that running, all that desperation, I chickened out. I panicked, and because of that I couldn't bring myself to go over there and tap on that window and beg Phee not to leave. Not to leave me.
Instead I just crept closer like the insane fucking stalker I clearly was.
Phee was in her bedroom, pulling open drawers and shoving all her belongings into a giant suitcase.
Eamon had been right – Phee was leaving.
So I just stood there as the sun completely faded from the sky and watched, my heart splintering, as the girl I loved with my entire soul packed up her belongings so that she could leave forever because I'd destroyed her life.
I left before she could finish.
+++
IV
Y CAME OVER the next morning. Absolutely refused to take no for an answer when I tried to insist I didn't want company. I'd instructed Tilly not to let anyone in, but Ivy was a force of fucking nature and when she wanted something, she didn't stop until she got it. No doubt she'd charmed her way around Tilly in two seconds flat - though Tilly had been vocally worried about my self-imposed isolation and probably thought she was doing me some good by allowing one of my friends up to see me.
“You weren't at school again today,” Ivy stated accusingly, folding her arms and leaning against my bedroom doorway.
I glanced up lazily from the movie about a giant squid I'd been mindlessly watching. She looked pissed, but her eyes were red. Was she upset? “Nope.” I went back to watching the movie.
Kicking off her shoes, she sighed and came to lie down next to me on the bed, adjusting one of my pillows beneath her head to make herself comfortable. My friends and I, we all treated each other’s homes like they were our own. Her blonde hair tickled my neck. It smelled nice, like that herbal shampoo she used.
We were silent a little longer as we watched the giant squid tear a cruise ship apart before Ivy finally piped up with what she'd come over to talk about. “Phee's gone,” she told me quietly, and suddenly the red eyes made sense. Phee and Ivy had gotten close this past year, which was kind of a big deal for Ivy. She was so used to hanging out with us guys that she rarely made real female friendships.
She was losing Phee too.
I couldn't even summon up an ounce of pretend surprise at the news.
“You already knew?” Ivy demanded incredulously, turning her head on the pillow to face me. I didn't look at her, but I could feel her eyes burning holes into my face. “And you're here?”
“As opposed to what?” I asked dully. “Chasing her half way across the country?”
She just shook her head at me in confusion, watching me with a strange look on her face, like she couldn't even begin to understand this person I'd become.
To be honest, I couldn't understand him either.
+++
ONCE IVY HAD refused to accept my isolation, the rest of my buds soon came trickling back after deciding it was time they harassed me out of my funk too. Though I grumbled, I was glad in the end. I'd missed my friends. I fucking needed them.
“What the hell happened, bro?” Nash wanted to know. He didn't even have to say her name for me to know who he was talking about. He was upset. Keegan too. All of my friends were going to miss Phee. Not nearly as much as me, but that was a given.
They'd managed to drag me out of my room to Fortune Park, where we'd all made ourselves comfortable on the ground beneath the large willow tree next to the pond. But I couldn't bring myself to talk about it, not even with the friends so close to me I considered them family. My chosen family, and not the one I was born with.
Yet I couldn't fob them off with nothing, so in clipped tones I said, “We broke up. Our parents found out about us. Phee's been sent away to live with her aunt. No, I'm not going after her.”
I stared down at my hands while I talked, but I could feel the three of them sharing a look. The Look. Because Ivy, Nash and Keegan, they knew me well enough to know there was more to the story than that. But they respected me enough to know I'd open up and talk about it in time, when I was ready.
Turned out that time never came. I never came to terms with losing Phee, not really. I never got over it. Over her.
In time, when the pain began to overwhelm me and became too much to bear, I turned to women as a source of comfort. I started off with Tilly, and nothing had ever felt worse. She developed feelings for me after that despite our age difference and when I wasn't able or willing to return them she quit her job. By then, guilt was my constant companion.
Girls came and women went, but none of them were ever her. They were never Phee. Hers may have been the only face I ever saw, no matter how much time went by, but they were never, ever her.
Chapter 22
Ophelia
NATHAN KISSES ME like my soul is the very thing his lips were made for. He grips my cheeks in his hands with an almost painful grasp, pushing my body until my back shoves roughly against the bricks of the bar wall. I grunt in a pleasurable kind of pain, and he swallows the sound in his mouth as his kisses deepen.
This time, neither of us hold back.
Making a low groan in the back of his throat, Nathan presses against me even harder, unable to get enough. Our kisses become ferocious as he loses all control; teeth and tongue, lips and passion, body and heat.
His hands leave my face to grip my hips. He lifts me, pushing me back against the wall. One of my legs wrap around his waist as I hoist myself up, causing the skirt of my dress to rise. I don't care about that. I don't care about much of anything. Not even the people just around the other side of the bar, many of them our friends, who could come looking for us at any minute, catching us in a very compromising position. No, Nathan's touch has successfully voided my mind of anything but him.
Now that evening has fallen, the air has cooled and a gentle breeze brushes against my skin. I barely feel it. Nor the harsh brick wall against my exposed back, or the soft sand beneath the one foot grazing the ground. All I feel is Nathan.
One of his hands leaves my hips and cups my ass as he tears his mouth from mine to kiss a pathway down my jaw.
I muffle a moan. “Nathan, someone might. . . Someone might come. . .”
“Mm?” he mumbles distractedly, brushing his lips over the curve of my neck.
My eyes close as I forget about everything ever, then snap open once more when I hear a particularly raucous laugh on the other side of the bar. Gripping Nathan's shoulder, I force him back a little, laughing when he pouts. His eyes are slightly unfocussed. “They'll come looking for us,” I point out. “We've been missing too long.”
His grin is devilishly salacious. “Then I guess we'd better go somewhere they won't find us.”
He kisses me one last time, hard and fast, then drags me by the hand around the bar, the opposite side to which we came from before.
“No one's looking,” he determines when he pops his head around the side to look, turning back to me and waggling his eyebrows.
We make a run for it, cackling wildly the entire time as we sprint down the beach. We swerve through throngs of people out for evening strolls or dinner and drinks, by more bars and restaurants until eventually we get to the end of the strip and the beach grows quieter, darker. Emptier. Soon we leave behind all buildings and people and it's just us, the sand, the ocean and the moon.
When the lights from the populated area become nothing more than blurry dots in the distance, Nathan suddenly stops running and makes a grab for me. His arms wrap around my waist and we twist, falling to the ground.
With my knees on either side of his hips, I lean over him on all fours. My lips hover teasingly over his and my long hair curtains our faces. With a smirk, he quickly rolls us over, taking control. He grabs both of my hands and pins them above my head. The cocky look from just a moment ago is gone, replaced with an intensity that steals the breath right out of my lungs.
“You're mine, Phee.” His voice is rough and deep. It isn't a question, it's a command.
I nod. “I am.”
“You've always been mine.”
The stubborn, hot headed Phee I used to be rises within me and I lift an eyebrow. “Just like you've always been mine,” I state hotly.
But this is no competition.
“I have,” he replies sincerely, and then his lips are back on mine. Soft, hard, fierce. He pulls back and throws off his shirt before kissing me again. Our tongues entwine, his teeth pulling at my swollen bottom lip. “Always.” He bites down on my neck, my shoulder. “And forever.” I arch my back when his hands cover my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples. He moves down my body, placing a sweet kiss on my stomach over the material of my dress. “Always have been.” He kneels between my thighs and lifts up one of my legs, kissing my an
kle before throwing it over his shoulder and pushing my skirt up around my hips. “Always will be,” he murmurs, leaning down and biting the inside of my thigh.
The heel of my foot presses into his shoulder blades as his hot mouth closes over my panties. He licks a line right up the center of them.
Oh God, he always knew exactly how to make me moan. And I do, loudly.
With another smirk, he rips the panties right from my body and throws them behind him. I don't know where they land, but I'm sure I hear a tiny splash.
My nails rake through his hair and hold him to me as he runs his tongue over my pussy, pumping a finger in and out of me in just the right way. My thighs tighten around his head, my body unwilling to let him go.
He drives me wild until I'm nothing more than a quivering wreck beneath his mouth. My back arches as he brings me to the peak and I call out his name, but even then he doesn't stop.
Needing more, I drag him forcefully back up my body by his hair until his face is right over mine. “It's been ten years, asshole,” I demand. “Stop playing games.”
He takes my wrists and slams them down into the sand above my head, all playful teasing disappearing. “No more games, huh?” he growls fiercely, still holding onto my wrists with one hand and reaching down for his zipper with the other. He doesn't even bother to take off his beige chinos all the way, just shoves them down over his ass, and then he's pressing up against me, hot and hard and ready. He rubs up and down against my pussy, driving me wild with desire all over again. I can tell it's doing the same to him by the raging inferno in his eyes.
“Tell me what you want, Phee,” he demands. “Tell me who you want.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Who do you want to fuck you? Look at me and tell me.”
I look him right in the eye, glaring, even though his possessiveness turns me on. “You. You're the only one I ever want.”