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by Stewart , Kate


  “I’m not a child.”

  “Take it.” His voice is full of command.

  Grumbling, she takes the pills and swallows. I see his lips tilt up again as he studies her, his eyes shining with the closest thing I’ve seen to affection from him. I feel that look pierce the surface of my skin, the warmth and respect he’s showing her satisfying some need inside me. Like I knew it was there and needed confirmation.

  “How many more treatments?” she asks.

  “We’ve been over this. Six.”

  “Putain.” Fuck.

  I laugh out loud because I know that one.

  “Je ne veux plus de ce poison. Laisse-moi mourir.” I don’t want this poison anymore. Just let me die.

  “English, Tatie.” He wants me privy to their exchange. Since when is Dominic so considerate?

  “Put me in a box and forget me.”

  “I would have when I was younger. You were a horrible parent.”

  “That’s why I didn’t have children.” She turns to him, lifting her chin defiantly. “I was barely twenty when I took you. You did not starve. You—”

  “Hush, Tatie,” he gives her the side-eye, “let’s get you home and comfortable.”

  “No such thing with this sickness. I don’t know why you take me.”

  “Because my first murder attempts failed, and you’ve grown on me.”

  “That’s only because you honor your parents.”

  He swallows, and we ride in amicable silence for a few minutes before Dominic turns into a small driveway. His headlights beam on a Cape Cod-style house with overgrown plants on the porch, most of them dying.

  “Stay,” he gets out of the car and points to her where she sits in her seat. She doesn’t say a word to me. Dominic opens the door and lifts her easily. I get out and he looks over his shoulder.

  “No, stay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I ignore him and scramble to the porch to open the screen door.

  “Ha, I like her,” his aunt says, scanning me in the dim light from the streetlamp. Dominic curses as he holds her against him and fumbles with the keys before he hands them to me. I hold each key up until he nods at one and then twist it in the lock and walk in, turning on the closest light and can’t help but cringe at the scattering of a few roaches on the wall. This is the house Dominic grew up in?

  Dominic walks her to an old beige recliner, and she sighs in relief when they get there. She kicks back, and he spreads a blanket over her lap before disappearing down a hall.

  “You’re looking at him the same way as the girl was at the pharmacy.”

  “He’s hard not to notice,” I admit truthfully, “but getting easier to ignore with his sunny disposition.”

  I carefully assess the house while trying not to make it obvious what I’m doing. It’s nothing but old furniture in need of a thorough dusting, cleaning, and extermination. I don’t know how she expects to get well in an environment that’s anything but sterile, but from what she said in the car, she’s not intent on a recovery. She examines me from her chair and I return her stare, just as curious. She’s reading me, and she’s doing it with Dominic’s silver eyes. The resemblance is most definitely there. Early forties at most, I decide as I stare her down. It’s tragic. She’s too young not to fight.

  “Can I get you anything? More water?”

  “Please.”

  I move to the kitchen and click on the overhead light. More roaches scatter, making my stomach turn. There are only a few dishes in the sink and my skin crawls as I search the cabinets for a clean glass. I open the freezer, which reeks and grab a few ice cubes, tossing them into the glass before turning on the tap. I set the water on the small wooden table with a built-in lamp sitting beside her. She clicks it on and picks up a thick leather book—a French Bible, littered with tattered bookmarks.

  Dominic strolls back in with a Monday through Sunday pillbox and a plastic garbage can. He sets the pills on her table, and the can within her reach.

  “All separated. Take them, Tatie, or you’ll get sicker.” He chuckles when he sees the Bible. “Too late for you, witch.”

  I expect her to gasp or get indignant. Instead, she laughs with him. “If there’s a back door into heaven, maybe I’ll find it for you too.”

  “Maybe I don’t agree with His politics,” Dominic says, his timber full of mirth.

  “Maybe He doesn’t agree with yours, doesn’t mean He can’t be an ally. And you forget, I know you. And stop separating my pills, I’m not an invalid.”

  “You’re doing a good job getting there. Don’t drink tonight,” Dominic orders, entirely dismissing the spiritual part of the conversation. “I’m not searching the house, but if you do, you know what will happen.”

  “Yeah, yeah, go,” she shoos him away. I hear the distinct clink of a bottle beneath her rocker as she adjusts her position in the seat and Dominic makes himself busy with the TV remote. He didn’t hear it, but her eyes meet mine in challenge and I quickly decide it’s not my battle.

  “Should we stay?” I ask her, genuinely concerned. All of my chemo aftermath knowledge has been gained from books or soul-crushing movies, and from what I’ve gathered, people get violently ill after a round.

  “Not my first time,” she says. “Go, the night is young and so are you, don’t waste it.”

  “You are too,” Dominic mutters, flipping through the channels.

  I walk over to where she sits and kneel down on the over-stressed carpet. I don’t know what in the hell possesses me to do it, but I do, maybe it’s her living situation or the state she’s in. Her predominately black hair is pulled back into a braid, her olive complexion deeply etched with life, the small wrinkles around her mouth defined with remnants of her lipstick. She looks breakable, her frame meek, her under eyes outlined by her sickness. But it’s her eyes alone that shine with her youth, the same metallic shade as her nephew. They pin me curiously as I lean in on a whisper.

  “Romans 8:38-39.”

  She navigates to the passage easily and to my surprise, reads it aloud.

  “For I am sure that neither death nor life,” she whispers softly, “nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes flitting with emotion, mainly fear. “Do you believe that’s true?”

  “Those are the only verses I’ve memorized. So I guess, maybe, I want to believe it.” It’s clear as she studies me, she does too.

  She looks past me at Dominic, who I can feel standing behind me. “Elle est trop belle. Trop intelligente. Mais trop jeune. Cette fille sera ta perte…” She is too beautiful. Too smart. But too young. This girl will be your undoing.

  My eyes drift up to Dominic whose face remains impassive. Frustrated that I can’t make out more than a few words of what’s been said, I stand.

  “It was nice meeting you.”

  She waves us away and we move toward the door. I look back at her, just before we clear the doorway and I see it, the slight lift at the corner of her lips. It’s Dominic’s smile, and a part of me lifts at the sight of it.

  A few minutes into another silent drive, I turn down Dominic’s blaring radio. “What happened to your parents?”

  A muscle in his jaw flexes as he flicks me an expression I can’t place.

  When he cranks the radio back up and downshifts to gain speed, I know he will entertain no conversation. I observe him, baffled by the shift in his moods, and the utter beauty of the mask he wears along with the secrets he holds so tightly to him. He’s very much like Sean in a sense they both give the bare minimum when questioned, like they took and mastered a fucking class on terse responses. My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath, and I hold the rest of my questions. There’s no point. He’s back to impenetrable, his body language alluding to as much, and I let my thoughts wander until we pull up to the garage.

&n
bsp; Dominic parks close to the bay and exits as if he can’t get away from me fast enough, and I sit and watch him walk into the shop without looking back. Today was eventful, to say the least, and slightly insightful.

  A flash of fire grabs my attention and I look over and see Sean slapping his Zippo closed through the windshield.

  He joins me as I step out of the passenger side. “So, I take it that didn’t go well?”

  “Why would you subject me to that man?”

  He chuckles lightly, but the humor doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Pup?”

  I wrap my arms around him as he exhales a plume of smoke, careful to avoid my face. “I’m just relieved to see you.”

  “That so?” There’s no accusation in his words, but I know he saw me watching his roommate with open curiosity. Then again, he knows Dominic like no one else. He’s got to know how just an hour or two alone with him can be exasperating and exhausting.

  Sean tosses his cigarette and pulls me tightly to him, kissing the mystery away. When he pulls back, I grip the back of his hair, hard.

  “Why didn’t you pick me up?”

  “A couple reasons, one of them being an unanticipated and mandatory work meeting on my day off.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He grins down at me. “You fought well, baby.”

  It’s my first real smile of the day.

  A DIZZYING SMILE GREETS ME as I saunter down the porch steps to where Sean waits at the passenger door, eyes devouring me in my cover-up, a dangerously flossy bikini beneath. I meet him where he stands and warm, calloused hands cup my ass as he pulls me into him in a way that stakes claim. When he kisses me, diving deep, and a soft groan rumbles in his chest, I’m already starved for more. More of what we’ve been doing, I’m anxious for what’s to come. I’d called Christy last night and filled her in on the details, shamelessly sparing few because she’s my person, and she is just as taken in by all that has transpired with Sean.

  Being with him makes me happy. It makes my romantic heart sing. Sean’s a caretaker and has done nothing since the day we met but do exactly that. His grip strong, he kisses me and kisses me, our tongues dueling, his feel, his smell a new craving. I feed on him as he takes further control, pulling me further into him, rubbing his erection along my stomach to let me know he’s just as needy for me.

  When we eventually part, his eyes are lit, a content smile playing on his lips. “What did you dream about last night?”

  “Aren’t you really asking about who?”

  “I don’t flatter myself.”

  “You should. You were in all the ones I remember.”

  “Good ones?”

  “Damn good ones.”

  “Good to hear. You ready to have some fun?”

  “Always.”

  “That’s my girl.” Tucked in his passenger seat, he buckles me in and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, as if he can’t wait another second to do so.

  “Dom’s coming. Hope that’s okay.”

  Deflating a little, I only nod. I was hoping to be alone with him, but I don’t make a stink of it, because any time with him is well spent. Dominic puts me on edge in a way I’m not comfortable with. My draw toward him is unexplainable, and I only feel guilty for it. I don’t tell this to Sean because I don’t want him mulling it over the way I have been for the last couple of days. Being in Dominic’s proximity is like a slow-motion view of an explosion of metal on metal. With Sean, I feel safer; but when Dominic is around, I feel that every breath I take is laced with something hazardous. Yet with each inhale, he becomes more intoxicating.

  I prefer sober and aware, at least that’s what I try to tell myself.

  Once in the driver’s side, Sean grips my hand and runs a thumb along the skin of my thigh. “You look beautiful.”

  Part of my answer is a beaming smile. “So do you.”

  “Let’s go, baby,” he murmurs, taking my lips once more before kicking back in his seat and starting the engine. Southern rock drifts out of the speakers as he taps his fingers on his steering wheel, and I just…watch him. It might not yet be love, but it’s definitely nothing short of heady infatuation at this point. We sing along to the classics as he races toward the lake, a cooler packed behind us in his seat.

  “Good one,” he says, just as a new song begins to play and he sings along. Curious, I glance at the dash and read the title, “Night Moves” by Bob Seger. Completely at ease, he squeezes my thigh as he sings to me, but it’s when I really listen to the words that I start to deflate. The more he sings, the more I start to feel sick. The song is about a meaningless hookup for a summer, someone to pass the time with sexually until they move onto better things. He notices my frown just as we pull up to his cousin’s property, the picturesque view of the lake surrounded by the mountains rapidly tainting along with my mood.

  Once parked, I push his hand off my thigh and slam my way out of the car, seeing Dominic eye us from a tractor tire-sized raft docked at the foot of the lake.

  “What the fuck?” Sean asks as I turn and make my way in the opposite direction toward the woods casting shadows a few feet away. I’m already stepping up on to a small hill path leading toward a clearing when I hear Dominic speak up.

  “The fuck’s her problem?” I don’t bother turning back to explain myself, I just charge past a few trees in flip flops that are not at all fit for a morning hike. I’m acting a fool and need to get a handle on myself before I do worse.

  “Cecelia.”

  “Sean…just give me a minute.”

  “Hell no,” he stomps after me, “we’re not going through this again.”

  “Seriously, I need some space,” I snap over my shoulder.

  “That’s not the tune you were singing twenty minutes ago.”

  I whirl on him, coming close to running into his chest. “Speaking of tunes, what the hell was that?”

  He draws his brows together. “What was what?”

  “The song you sang to me. Are we hinting around to anything here?”

  “I played liked seven of them on the ride over. Care to get specific?”

  I cross my arms as he racks his brain, and I see the moment it dawns on him.

  “It’s just a song.”

  “Is that what I am? Is that what this is going to be?”

  He towers over me and grips my wrist, placing my hand on his heart. “I have no idea yet, and neither do you, but I can promise you that only a quarter of how fast this is fucking beating has to do with chasing after your beautiful and crazy ass.”

  “I heard you share.”

  He doesn’t flinch.

  “We have.”

  Silence.

  I snatch my hand away and cross my arms. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Nope. And if you heard about that, it’s not because we said a thing about it.”

  “Wow, that’s some arrogance talking.”

  He runs a hand through his golden strands. “It’s the truth.”

  “Is that why I’m here?”

  His jaw ticks. “You’re adding insult to injury by acting this way.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, should I be offended you think I’m a fucking sleazeball for taking part?”

  I only glare as he steps forward crowding me, his eyes lit with temper.

  “You have a thing for Dominic. You can deny it all you want, but I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it, and I’m not standing in the way of that, and claiming you as mine is not going to do either of us any good. The truth is, seeing it only makes me want you more. And I do get off on it, and I won’t fucking apologize for it. Just like I won’t make you apologize for your attraction to him. I told you when we first hooked up, I don’t do things in the traditional way, neither does Dominic. Giving you the choice is more of a reflection on how I respect and feel about you and what you want, and it’s much better than denying to myself that I’ve seen you eye fuck him, more than once.”

  I gape at
him, completely blown away by his brutal honesty.

  “Step outside that brainwashing for a few seconds and be honest with yourself. That’s all I’m asking. Just be truthful. In your heart of hearts, if you didn’t have to choose, would you?”

  I’m still stunned as he leans in, invading my senses.

  “I-I-I’m…I’m with you,” I stutter out, hating the fact that he’s drawn all these conclusions. His superpower of reading people and anticipating what they want has just blown up in my face. I feel nothing but guilty as he inches closer.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he drawls, “but completely mistaken if you think I want anything more from you than you are willing to give.” His finger runs from my chin to my neck. “I’m not trying to manipulate you into a goddamn thing. And today, when I picked you up, I wasn’t thinking about you sinking onto anyone else’s cock but mine and without an audience.” His flecked eyes light up. “But it makes me so fucking hard that you’re thinking about it.” He brushes my lips with his. “But the choice is always, always, up to you.”

  I stand fish mouthed and utterly speechless. He curses and reads my expression. “Let’s just table this, okay? You were pure sunshine when I picked you up and the last thing I want to do with you today is argue. Let’s just try and have fun.”

  I’m still stunned stupid, reeling, as he tugs on my hand and I jerk it away.

  “Are you kidding me? You just told me…” I gape at him. “I thought we…would…”

  He turns back and I can only conclude he sees the warring hurt and confusion in my eyes, my expression. “You catchin’ feelings for me, Pup?”

  All I can do is give him the same honesty. “Yes, of course I am. We… I was hoping… I don’t know.”

  “That’s right, we don’t, so let’s not go around getting offended and slinging drama where it isn’t needed. You want to trust me, but you’re not letting yourself, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can tell you every day you’re safe with me, but unless you believe it, it’s pointless. And for the record, I caught feelings the minute I laid eyes on you.” I go slack as he brushes a finger over my lips. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted, sensitive, and more,” he drops his forehead to my shoulder and groans, “and pissed off.”

 

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