Pulled Under

by Sarah Darlington

A warm sensation spread across my chest. The tightening increased.

  “I don’t want to come,” I choked out.

  There wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. It happened anyway. Everything around me faded out of existence, except for the hot, tingling explosion that erupted through my whole body. I couldn’t breathe or think or see. It was euphoric. The opposite of emotional. I screamed Rhett’s name and squeezed those arms of his as hard as I could. I was so focused on everything happening to me physically, that only when I started to come down from my high, did I realize that something similar had happened to Rhett.

  He’d orgasmed with me. And I sort of missed it being too caught up in my own bliss. Which was a shame because I wished I could have watched him and seen his face during it. Now that the moment was done, he rolled away, pulled the condom off, and tossed it into a trashcan near his bed. He lay beside me, and this very long, very satisfied sigh left his lips.

  “How was that for your first time?” he asked, turning toward me and brushing my hair away from my face.

  “Intense,” I admitted.

  “You can say that again. I’ve never done it like that before.” He traced his hands across my chest and then lightly over my breasts. “You have nice tits, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I think.” But I was more focused on the other thing he’d said. “What did you mean by ‘you’ve never done it like that before’?”

  “Just that it felt personal. In a good way. That’s all.”

  I think I knew what he meant. Rhett and I might have started the day as strangers, essentially, but we weren’t anymore. We’d connected during sex. And it wasn’t something that had ended now that it was over. I still felt it.

  “Come here,” he said, tugging at my waist and pulling me in against his hot skin. “Does it hurt?” His fingers brushed low on my stomach and gently across my sensitive area. “Down here.”

  “A little.” It was very tender.

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Just keep holding me,” I uttered. It was a needy request. I wasn’t a needy person, but I was in that moment. The feel of his arms around me, his skin against my skin, and his breath tickling the base of my neck—all of it was exactly what I needed. In four months, this was the best therapy yet.

  “I can do that,” he whispered. “I can do that all night. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

  And he kept his word. His arms held me tightly in against him all night long.

  * * *

  I woke up to the sound of glass breaking. Rhett jumped in his sleep and immediately sat up. “Shit,” he whispered. “What was that?” He rushed out of bed and over to his dresser. He grabbed a pair of jeans, yanked them on, and then pulled a white shirt from the drawer, which he tossed in my direction. “Put that on, sweetheart.” Next a clean pair of his boxers came flying at me. “These too.”

  He pulled one of his baseball bats off its hook on the wall.

  That was when I grew scared. A shot of adrenaline hit me and that fight or flight feeling kicked in. “You think somebody broke into your house?” I sat up, quickly pulling on the clothes he’d given me.

  “Possibly,” he whispered. “I’m going to check it out.”

  “I’m coming with.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He didn’t give me time to argue—he left before I could protest. But I wasn’t about to let him go out there alone. A few years back my mom was mugged in NYC. A totally random event. But being held at gun point had terrified her. After it happened, she made me take these extensive self-defense classes with John. Rhett might have been the one built like a MAA fighter, but I wasn’t completely useless in a fight. I had faith that I could help him. So I followed him.

  Only, it wasn’t an intruder. It was a broken glass on the kitchen floor and a man in his pajamas. Rhett’s roommate, Noah, I assumed. He’d broken the glass.

  “Put down the bat, Rhett,” he said, calmly. “You couldn’t hit for shit even when you were on the Daredevils, and anyway, it was me who made the noise.” Noah motioned to the shattered glass on the floor.

  A laugh escaped my lips.

  Not because of Noah’s words. Or because of the broken glass. It was a nervous laugh. Because I’d seen this guy named Noah once before. At Ben’s funeral. He’d been with Ben’s family, standing outside the doors when I first went into the building. Then I’d seen him again when I left. He’d been the one with tears in his eyes. His shoulder-length blond hair, currently tied back in a ponytail, was his distinguishing feature.

  But it wasn’t just the three of us in the room. There was a woman too. And I knew her as well. Ellie. Ben’s oldest sister. The one John knew. Oh, God. How was it possible that I was suddenly surrounded by Ben’s people? Did that mean Rhett was someone Ben had known, too?

  Rhett set the bat down on the kitchen table. “What are you doing? Other than breaking shit?”

  “There was a rat,” Noah told him.

  Rhett chuckled. “And you decided to throw a glass at it?”

  He seemed relieved. I wasn’t.

  Noah shrugged. “Something like that.”

  Neither she nor Noah had even noticed or acknowledged my existence in the room. That didn’t speak well for Rhett. He probably brought home so many different girls that we were all faceless to them.

  “Wait, what?” Ellie asked the guys. “Did you just say rat?” Ellie continued. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First we had those weird silverfish bugs and now rats! I’m getting the hell out of here. Now!” She turned on her feet, hurried across the living room, and disappeared into a room. Less than ten seconds later she returned with a wallet and keys in her hands. “I know you and your OCD can’t handle disease-carrying rats—let’s go, Noah. I’m too tired for this bullshit. We’re going to Mom’s.”

  “I don’t have OCD,” Noah argued.

  “Like hell you don’t. I’ll be in the car. Clean up the glass because I know you need to. I’d offer to help, but you’ll just criticize the way I clean.” She shook her head and went for the front door. “Meet me outside when you’re finished. Please, try not to take all night.”

  Rhett laughed, not caring about the rat or the broken glass. “Come on, sugar,” he said to me. “Let’s go back to bed. Ellie’s right; Noah’s particular about cleaning so it’s better to leave him alone.” He pulled on my arm, leaving Noah in the kitchen and leading me back toward his bedroom. I let him. I was too overwhelmed at the moment to say a word.

  Rhett had known two people from Ben’s funeral—Ben’s sister and this blonde guy. I had to infer that meant he also knew Ben. We didn’t live in that big of a town, this sort of thing wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities, but, still, this knowledge felt like a kick to the stomach. I thought I’d escaped Ben for the night. I guess escaping from him would never be possible.

  Rhett unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, letting them drop to the floor, then he turned off the lights in his room, and pulled me back into bed with him. I complied. But now, lying in his arms made my head spin. And, no, not because he was buck-naked and fearless about it. My head spun because my night with Rhett was suddenly tainted. By Ben.

  “You okay?” he asked. “You’re rigid as a board. Trust me, we don’t have rats. You have nothing to be afraid of. Noah was lying about that. His OCD is so bad, sometimes I catch him cleaning in the middle of the night, so I doubt a rat would ever want to come into our house. Something else is up with him. I think I know what, but it’s not my business.”

  “What do you think it is?” I asked, keeping my voice as normal as possible. I probably shouldn’t have asked this, but I had to know what he knew. “If you don’t mind me asking? He seemed a little shaken up.”

  Rhett held me tighter. He’d literally just told me this wasn’t his business, so it surprised me when he told me everything. “A few months ago, Ellie’s little brother died. His name was Ben Turner. You might have known him. You should have seen how packe
d his funeral was. I think everyone in this whole damn town knew and loved that kid.”

  I’d seen how packed the funeral was. I’d been there.

  “Anyway, what people don’t know—and this is just between us, of course—is that Ben’s other sister, Georgina…well, she tried to commit suicide that very same day. Noah stopped her, or saved her, or something along those lines. I don’t know all the details from that night. All I know is that he came home covered in blood and he hasn’t been the same since. So Georgina went away to some women’s group home, some place that is supposed to help with stuff like that, and now she’s back—as of this week, actually. And now Noah is acting weirder than ever. I was really worried about him, until I realized that there must be some feelings going on there. He talks about Georgina a lot and he never did before. Now that she’s home, I’m waiting to see how it plays out, if my theory is correct.”

  Holy shit. The air became trapped in my lungs. I never knew Georgina had tried to commit suicide. She’d been missing from school for the last few months before graduation and she’d never walked on graduation day. Her name was on the list of students accepted into Luke University, though, same as mine, so I’d assumed she was being homeschooled because she was grieving, the same way I’d missed that first month after Ben’s death. No one had mentioned a suicide attempt. The way rumors normally spread at our school…that meant someone had done a really good job at keeping that information to themselves.

  Tears burned behind my eyes. I felt for Georgina. I knew her pain all too well. Rhett was probably wrong about a romance between Georgina and Noah. She’d been dating Logan Tyler since freshman year. They were the forever type of couple. Or at least that was how they’d always seemed from afar.

  “Earlier you said you lost someone,” Rhett whispered gently, making my heart instantly go numb inside my body. “That you were trying to get over someone and that you sought me out to help you feel better. I didn’t connect the dots before. But was that person Ben?”

  I let out a gasp.

  How had he figured that out? He wasn’t supposed to know that. Shit.

  “Yes,” I said, because now tears were running from my eyes and I couldn’t even begin to control them. “Yes.”

  He said nothing else. Only held me. He held me as I cried and until I finally drifted into some strange sort of half-sleep. When morning came, I had to get away. I left before he woke up. I didn’t have my car here, or even my panties, but I snuck out his front door and started walking.

  Then, ultimately, I had to call John to come pick me up.

  CHAPTER 8:

  RHETT

  The bed was empty. I woke up and she was gone. Motherfucking gone. At first I figured she must have gotten up to use the bathroom or to get something to eat from the kitchen. Logical conclusions, right? No need to assume the worst and/or panic. Calm your ass down¸ Rhett, I told myself. She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, without saying anything.

  But she wasn’t in the bathroom or in the kitchen.

  Her dress and her shoes were gone off the floor. There was no trace that she’d ever even been inside my house. I stood in the middle of my empty room, in complete disbelief. Her absence wasn’t sinking in. I wouldn’t let it.

  Why?

  Shit. Seriously, why?

  My body felt disoriented and my mind dazed. There was no note or number left behind—nothing on my desk or anywhere. It finally hit me. She was really, truly gone.

  Burying my face in my hands, I sank to the floor. I didn’t even know her damn name! Fuck, there had to be some logical explanation for this. We’d shared something powerful last night, a connection that I’d never in my life felt with another person, and she’d given up her virginity to me. Hell, I might even love this girl—my green-eyed girl.

  But she was gone. And if that didn’t send a clear cut message, I didn’t know what did. I stood up from the floor, threw on whatever clothes I had laying around, grabbed my shoes and keys, and headed outside.

  It was hot and muggy. I was heated. I was hurt. I was angry. So she’d fucking used me for sex, was that it? Was this completely about Ben and her grief, and nothing about me? I was just the town fuck-stick, only there for a good old-fashioned fucking whenever someone needed a go or to mend a broken heart. I wasn’t sure, but it sure felt that way. Cursing the world and my own lifelong poor choices, I hopped in my car and started the engine.

  Thanks to the restaurant scheduling Gods, I didn’t have to work for the next few days. I had no idea where to start looking, but I had to find her. I might have had the worst reputation in the history of reputations, and maybe this was karma kicking me in the ass, but I needed to speak with her. Give her a chance to explain herself before I assumed the very worst.

  I would find her. I would tell her how much I cared for her. I would make this right.

  * * *

  Only I didn’t find her. I spent the entire day, from ten in the morning until ten in the evening, driving from business to business around the Outer Banks. I asked every Tom, Dick, and Harry if they’d seen her or knew her. This was an impossible task when I didn’t even have her name. So I started looking for Kimberly Whittle or Cody Melbourne, the only two names I had in association with her. Turned out that Kimberly was now a teacher at Kill Devil Hills High School. But since it was summer time and school wasn’t in session, I couldn’t find her that way. The internet was completely useless, neither name had a number listed. So I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  I’d started the day angry. Now, as I collapsed in my bed for the night, I only felt defeated. Crazy how everything in life can change so fast—from boring, to wonderful, to heart-breaking—all in the span of twenty-four hours.

  Sleep, for once, came really easy that night. I guess that was what depression does to a person.

  The next morning my tactic for finding Green Eyes changed. I decided Chancy’s Claw was where I needed to be. We’d met there. It was possible, if she wanted to be found, that she might return there. Chancy’s opened at ten. I was there at nine.

  I parked my ass in the corner barstool, my spot, and I had no intentions of moving until someone made me move. Luce was working the bar for day shift. Thank God it was her and not one of the other girls. Some of them, most of them, really hated my guts.

  “What happened to you?” were the first words out of her mouth.

  “I need a drink,” I grunted. “My life sucks at the moment.”

  “You look like the angel of death,” she informed me. She poured me shot of tequila. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not until I have a few more of these in me.” I tipped the shot back, swallowing down the liquid in one easy motion. It didn’t even burn.

  Next she popped the top on a bottle of Budweiser and handed it over. Not my first choice, but at this point I would drink anything in front of me. “Don’t go too fast,” she warned. “You can be a lousy drunk and you know it, Rhett Morgan. I don’t want to deal with that today. Just go slow and when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

  “You’re not mad about the other night?”

  “Oh, when you ditched me in the middle of a shift? No. I’m already over it.”

  She walked out of sight. There was lots to do when it came to prepping the bar. She let me be, and I let her work. Three hours and six beers later, the world still sucked. Green Eyes hadn’t shown. Today’s plan to find her had turned into a drinking marathon instead of an actual search.

  “Fuck my life,” I mumbled and rested my head on the bar top.

  “Hey,” came a cautious voice. It was Noah. He joined me for lunch sometimes, and suddenly he was standing next to me. If I was the ‘angel of death’ today he sure felt like the ‘angel of light.’ I nearly hugged him I was so relieved to see him.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I admitted. “I need your advice.”

  “Okay?” Sitting down in the seat beside me, he nodded at Luce. She knew Noah as well as me, we were all friends, and she
knew what he liked to order. She grabbed a pint glass and started filling it with one of Chancy’s craft beers.

  “What’s going on?” Noah asked.

  At this point I was too drunk to sugarcoat it. “I’m in motherfucking love,” I shouted.

  Luce, overhearing and obviously shocked by my words, dropped Noah’s full glass of beer onto the bar top. It spilled everywhere, including on Noah’s shorts. The beer soaked him and on any other day I might have found the incident hilarious, but not today. Luce apologized, brought Noah some napkins, and then a replacement beer.

  “What were you saying about love?” Noah asked as he gave up on his shorts and grabbed his beer instead. Luce didn’t linger. I guess she didn’t want to hear this.

  “The blonde,” I explained to him. “The one who stayed over the night you chucked one of our glasses at the rat. I’m in love with her, but I don’t even know her name or how to find her. She used me for sex. Mercifully. And now she’s gone.”

  It sounded really pathetic when I said the words out loud.

  I hardly cared.

  “Um.” Noah crinkled his eyes in confusion at me. “I thought the blonde was one of your bar bunnies.”

  “My what?”

  Lowering his voice, I guess so Luce wouldn’t overhear, he explained, “It’s what Ellie calls the girls you screw around with regularly. You know, like Luce and Chelsea…and maybe that brunette named Allie, too. I don’t know how many of them you fuck.”

  Bar bunnies. Groupies. Whatever you wanted to call them. Noah was kind of right. Luce and I weren’t regular anymore, but he was right about Chelsea and Allie. Although, after Green Eyes, I never wanted to see another woman again. I was done for a while.

  “No.” I took a sip at the bottle of Bud I’d been palming since Noah walked into Chancy’s. “This girl was different. She was more than just sex. I spent the entire day yesterday going to every business from Nags Head all the way up to Duck searching for her. Nothing. I met her here first. So after yesterday’s mad search, I decided that I’d probably have better luck staying in one place. I’m not moving from this seat until they kick me out.”