Betrayal of Cupids

by Sophia Kenzie

  “I know that.” It hadn’t even crossed my mind that he was thinking I was refusing him sex. I didn’t even know if I could or would refuse him sex. It was the last thing on my mind.

  “Then why won’t you change in front of me?” His face turned soft. I had hurt him.

  “I feel weird.” I did. Everything felt weird.

  “With me? God, Grace, it’s not like you need to protect yourself from me.”

  But would I have to protect him from his reaction?

  “What the hell? Are you scared of me?”

  “No,” I jumped in. I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t… I wasn’t… Oh God. Was I?

  “Oh my God, you’re scared of me. What the fuck did I do?” He was getting angry. I didn’t know how to stop it.

  “Nothing.” Yet.

  “I must to have done something to scare you like this.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Then take off your goddamn clothes.”

  I needed to think. What was he truly capable of? “Ryan, give me a second, please.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know.” But the gun was staring at me now. I imagined him grabbing it off the table and stealing away to Alexandria, shooting anyone in his path until he found Sean.

  But why was I picturing that? Ryan had never done anything that extreme. Why was I making things up?

  “Do you? Turn around.”

  Why was I frozen?

  “Please, Grace,” he begged, “I need you to trust me. Today, I need that.”

  I did trust him. More than anyone, I trusted him. I needed to prove to him that behind the cuts and bruises, his Grace was still here.

  I turned around and felt the heat from his hand as it hovered over my neck. My zipper began to move down my back, and I felt the cool air surround my near-naked body. He softly put his hands on my arms and spun me around to face him. He was about to witness what I had become. I couldn’t watch.

  I felt the fabric of my dress fall to my ankles and heard a small gasp escape Ryan’s mouth. I opened my eyes to face his judgment and felt his arms wrap around mine. The shock of his touch sent my body into sensory overload. I felt my muscles seize.

  “Grace. Grace. Shhh, please. You’re okay. I promise. I promise.”

  As my body accepted his warmth, my emotions spiraled and the tears fell. With each cry, he pulled me tighter, until we were crying together. It was not at all the reaction I expected. He was exactly what I needed.

  Ryan pulled away, his tear-filled eyes matching mine. I knew I had to tell him about Sean, but I couldn’t right away. It didn’t feel right just yet. Although the look of my broken body didn’t send him into the fierce frenzy I had assumed, knowledge that Sean had threatened me only hours ago could be the trigger. If he knew Sean was happily camping out in my hometown, Ryan would almost certainly explode and make a rash decision. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let that man take away another person that I loved. For now, his presence would have to stay hidden: at least until I knew what to make of it myself. Ryan lowered his hands from my back and wrapped our fingers together.

  “Take off my clothes.”

  I shook my head.

  “Grace. It’s your turn to feel power. Take off my clothes.”

  After the day I had, maybe feeling some sort of power would help. I took a deep breath and lifted my hands to his neck. I struggled with my shaking fingers, but finally loosened his tie, sweeping the silk to the ground. Then, button after button, I took control, reminding myself of who I was before the attack, before my life had been flipped upside down. I pushed his sleeves from his bare shoulders, feeling a tingling sensation as my skin met his. He guided my hands to his belt, assuring me I could continue. My hands shook as I slid the leather from the loops. I felt my heart climb up to my throat as I finished the task Ryan had given to me. He stepped out of his suit pants, leaving him in nothing but an undershirt and boxer briefs. He lifted his arms.

  “You’re not done yet, Grace.”

  I moved my hands to his hips and pushed the fabric up. The sight of his abs stopped my breath short.

  “Keep going.”

  One more push up and I was reminded that he had scars of his own. I abandoned my mission as my hands moved to the blood-soaked bandages.

  “Ryan.”

  His head turned to the side and his eyes closed. I wasn’t the only one with pain from that night. I wasn’t the only one who would be reminded for the rest of my life.

  He pulled his undershirt over his head and looked down at me. His fingers skimmed my cheek.

  “And as for your letter to me, if there was one thing in my life I could take back, it wouldn’t have been the last few months. It wouldn’t have been following you into that bar. It wouldn’t have been breaking into your apartment. It wouldn’t have been letting your father find out about us. And it certainly wouldn’t have been falling in love with you.” I saw his eyes drop to my butterfly-stitched slash. “If there were one thing I could do over, I would protect you from him. Grace,” his voice wavered as he ran his fingers through my hair, drawing my head into his chest, “I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

  After a moment of embrace, I felt him break down. I hadn’t realized how much he hurt.

  I wiped the tears from his eyes, nodding in understanding. I didn’t have to speak. He knew I didn’t blame him for what happened.

  Ryan covered my hands with his and walked backward, motioning to the bed.

  But I couldn’t. I mean, I wanted to… or more so, I wanted to want, but I really couldn’t. The slightest physical contact still reminded me of him.

  “Ryan…” I started.

  He looked at me and offered a soft smile. He sat down and stared up into my eyes. His free hand patted the mattress beside of him.

  But I didn’t move. I wanted him to read my mind, to not ask any more of me than I could give. His eyes never strayed from mine.

  “I’m so tired. Aren’t you tired?” he whispered.

  I thought back through my day, my last few days, my last few weeks, my last few months. Yes, I was tired. I was so tired. I did want to sit down. In that moment, it was the only thing I truly wanted.

  So I did.

  “Isn’t that better?”

  I nodded. “It is.”

  “Grace,” he turned to me, grasping for words. His fingers danced on my freckles. “I missed you. I don’t know what it is about you, but there’s something that refuses to leave me.” He took a deep breath, searching my eyes for a reason to continue. “I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night looking for you. Then the emptiness hits when I realize you’re not there. Please,” he pushed my hair from my face, “don’t leave me again. You just can’t.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? Had I started speaking first, I would have said the exact same thing. I would’ve begged to never be apart, but was that even a possibility with the path our lives had taken? Just to see him I had to devise a plan that would allow me to sneak away from my bodyguard by shimmying down a tree. Was that something I could spend the rest of my life doing? Just for a few breaths of unconditional love? While I contemplated my response, he pushed himself back, bouncing on the bed, and staring at the ceiling. I slowly followed suit, focusing my thoughts on the shapes of the cracks around the light fixture.

  I inhaled deeply, prepared to pour out my confession that I would do anything he asked of me, but instead bluntly admitted, “I could sleep.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, as he turned onto his side, bringing my focus back to him.

  “Is that okay?”

  He looked at me, confused. “Grace, why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  It was a rhetorical question; he didn’t need an answer. He lightly pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. His eyes closed, and his face relaxed. I did the same. I could feel my body sinking deeper into the mattress as my exhaustion took hold of my muscles. Images of Ryan raced through my mind as my body prepared it
self for sleep. I felt the whole of my being give way to the comfort. For the first time in days, there were no nightmares.

  I was pulled from my deep slumber by the sound of my phone. It was startling at first; I couldn’t remember the last time I was in such a restful state. I turned to roll off the bed when I felt Ryan’s hands on my waist.

  “No.” It wasn’t a command, it was more of a plea.

  The call was most likely from Mr. Muscles, begging for me to tell him where I’d been hiding. I would not. Still, Ryan’s hands around me made my body shudder. I needed a reason to stand, a reason to remove myself from his grip. He must have seen the trepidation in my eyes.

  “Grace, what can I do?”

  “I just need time.”

  “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Something about you is scared. What aren’t you telling me?”

  I stalled. “Nothing.”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “And I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Grace, do you? You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”

  His repetition made the question sink in deeper. I looked away, not wanting to face the answer.

  “Don’t look away from me.” He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his. As he did, he sat up, bringing our lips nearly together. I silently begged for him to kiss me and to stay away. How was I so conflicted? “I love you Grace Brennan, and if you wanted me to, I would kiss you so hard right now. I would remind you of the passion we felt for each other before we knew the dangers of our love.” He leaned in closer and whispered his hot breath into my ear. “I would give you so much pleasure you’d forget why you’re refusing to let me touch you right now.”

  My body warmed at his seduction. Could I? What was holding me back? I wanted to answer him. I wanted to jump on top of him and show him the same pleasure he teased me with. But I sat silent, still.

  “You know I love you, right?” His words were hurried. He was obviously shocked that I didn’t fall victim to his offer.

  I nodded.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  My nostrils flared, and my lips pressed together.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  He was more forceful, annoyed at my lack of commitment.

  “Goddammit, Grace.” He stood, releasing me from his touch. “Let me help you. Tell me what the hell is going on in your head.” With his last word, he punched his fist through the wall. I yelped, the sound catching me off guard.

  “Fuck!” He screamed as he pulled his hand out from shattered plaster. Ryan turned back to me, displaying his scratched and bleeding fingers. “Did I hurt you?”

  “What?” I asked. It seemed obvious that I was nowhere near him when he lost control. “No?”

  “Exactly. Even in a rage, my instinct is not to hurt you. I would never lay a hand on you. I need you to trust that I am not like your father.”

  And there it was. He knew exactly where my reservations were hiding. It was the thought that had been swimming through my mind for the past few days. My father, the one person I had complete faith in, had taken his anger out on me. How long would it be until I became Ryan’s punching bag? How long until these scars were made by him?

  “I do love you.”

  “I know, Grace.” He was instantly at my side, waiting for an invitation into my arms. I looked up into his beautiful face and collapsed into him. I felt a twinge of comfort. It wasn’t much, but it was hope. With him, I craved to learn to trust again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  He drew me in tighter, and I felt my heart race. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was safe. Ryan would not hurt me. I closed my eyes and allowed the memories of him to flood my thoughts. He had been protecting me since we met. Maybe this man was telling the truth.

  My phone rang again. “I should at least tell them I’m okay.”

  Ryan nodded, agreeing not to worry my family.

  “Aunt Kathryn, I’m all right.”

  But it wasn’t Aunt Kathryn.

  “Come home, Grace.”

  “No.” It couldn’t be.

  “Leave Ryan and come now, or else. Oh, and Grace?”

  He was waiting for my reply before he would finish his sentence. I knew this tactic.

  “Yes?”

  “If you tell him, I’ll know. If you tell him, you’re all dead.”

  He hung up. I dropped my cell from my ear and tried to piece together what might be happening on the other side of the phone. Why was Sean calling from Aunt Kathryn’s phone? Was she with him, or was he intentionally trying to worry me? What was happening?

  Ryan was at my side. “Grace, you’re shaking.”

  He was right. I couldn’t control it.

  “Grace? Who was that on the phone?”

  But I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t do much of anything. What did he mean when he said that if I told Ryan, he would know? Had he set up cameras? Bugs? I couldn’t take the chance.

  “Ryan, I need to go.” I hurriedly threw on the clothes he had taken out for me.

  “No.”

  “I’ll come back. I promise.”

  “Who was that?”

  “No one.” It was a terrible answer, but my mind didn’t have the capacity to think of a believable lie.

  “Don’t pull that shit with me. Just stay. Why can’t you just stay?”

  “Here,” I grabbed a pen from the side table and took his palm in mine. I wrote down seven digits. After all this time, I was finally giving him my phone number. “I will come back to you. Know that. No matter what happens, no matter what I say, I will come back to you.”

  It was the best hint I could leave without giving away the truth and securing our deaths. I prayed he would get it.

  The air felt tight. Even though for a brief second it seemed there was finally a possibility that our relationship might make it, that one phone call threw our life together back into realm of impossibility. Ryan looked at me, begging for more information, but I was steadfast, and he knew not to fight me. Ryan lowered his head, seemingly asking permission to kiss my lips. I angled up to him, but instead we both stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, motionless. I could feel the tension between us; the desire, the lust, the love. Even with all that passion, neither of us could make the first move. It was as if this were our first kiss, the one that would decide it all, but we couldn’t take the step. Even though I so badly wanted to hold his lips with mine, my next step was away from him. I needed to go back to Alexandria. I needed to know what Sean was planning.

  Our eyes stayed locked as we stepped away, both remembering the intensity from the night our fathers were taken. It wasn’t the end then. It wouldn’t be the end now. This was just another goodbye.

  How many more goodbyes would we have to endure?

  Ryan

  It had been a few hours since Grace left my house when I heard a knock at the door. Common sense should have convinced me that it had not been enough time for her to return to me as promised, but when it came to Grace, all sense was thrown out the window. I tore open the door, offering my arms to her embrace, but my heart sank as my eyes adjusted to the figure standing in front of me.

  “Hey man, sorry to drop by like this, but you ran away before I got to tell you how sorry I was about your Pops.”

  “Danny.” I extended my hand. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”

  It was Danny Sims, my boxing opponent in the fake match we had set up in our attempt to outwit our rivals, the Walking Shadows. He was wearing a suit. The sleek, pinstriped material hung securely on his fit form. His baby face was clean-shaven, and his dirty blonde hair was buzzed short. Had he been walking down the street, no one would have guessed he was an officer in an outlaw motorcycle club, though not mine. We were the only ones at the funeral who had decided against donning our colors. I guess
we had more in common that I had thought.

  “Listen, you know I went through this a few years back with my Pops, so if you need anything…”

  “I really appreciate that.” While coming off as a common pleasantry, it was the honest truth. With the passing of my father, I found myself craving sympathy, craving empathy, or simply craving a connection. “Please, come in. You want anything to drink?”

  Danny accepted my offer, wiped his shined, wing-tipped shoes on the mat, and stepped through the doorway. I closed the solid oak door behind him as he took off his overcoat and hung it on the wrought iron hook.

  “This is a nice place you got here.”

  “Yeah, not so bad.” I looked around, joining him in his walk around the foyer. “I grew up here, it’s a little weird to be back.”

  “You going to stay?”

  “At least for a bit.” It was the truth. While only last week I had no intention of ever setting foot back in this house, things were different now. I wouldn’t be running away with Grace just yet. I needed to see some things through.

  He shook his head. “Do you ever stop to think about how you got here? Like really got here?”

  I looked at him sideways, unsure if I understood him correctly.

  “I mean, come on man, this one-percenter life is kind of fucked up.”

  I joined him in his amusement. “Yes, Danny, yes it is,” I nodded.

  If only he knew that those exact circumstances had been all I thought about for the last few years. I thought I was the only one. Like me, Danny was born into the life. His father proudly sported his colors, just as mine had. It was practically impossible for an impressionable young boy not to fall victim to the idolization of the one-percenter way of being, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t eventually be riddled with doubt. His like-minded assessment broke all the tension in the room, and my chuckles turned to uncontrollable laughter. The camaraderie was invigorating.

  “Beer?”

  “Yuengling?”

  “Good man.”

  I made my way into the kitchen and took two Pennsylvania lagers out of the fridge. I sat next to Danny and slammed the necks of the bottles down on the edge of the coffee table, popping off the caps.