Find Me (Truthful Lies Trilogy - Book Two)
Page 23
“Trev called me. Told me the bullshit you were up to.”
“And he didn’t believe I wasn’t gonna drop it?”
“You’ve never been one to get off a course once you set your mind to it, now have you?”
“I’m still not. Except I decided on another course before I started this destructive one. I’d just forgotten it temporarily.”
Skate doesn’t ask me which course. Because he knows I mean Blaze.
-7-
Blaze looks tired when I see her at her place. Fearful. There’s still love in her eyes for me, but there’s also caution. Tremendous caution.
When she shows me the photos, I understand why.
“Uhm, Deck, we’ll get out of your way,” says Skate. I don’t even look at him and Vikki behind me. I’m totally stunned at what I’m seeing in front of me. The door closes, and I guess it’s my turn to talk.
“Surely you can’t believe any of this,” I say.
Blaze stares.
“Blaze, please, it was fabricated. I went in there to get my money for the move—”
“Your money?” Something about the way she says it makes me feel really dirty.
“C’mon, Blaze, I swear it. Look, I even recorded it on my phone. Remember? I told you, I didn’t trust her—”
“Maybe you told me that to protect your own ass in case the truth ever came out.”
“Blaze, please, this is the truth!”
“And how do I know the recording—”
“Wait!” I put the recording on and scroll to about three and a half hours of us being there. With a dull thud of certainty, it dawns on me that I’d left my phone on the living room table when I went into Tatiana’s room to pick up the cash.
“Fuck,” I say. My legs are weak now. I actually sit on a stool. “I...uhm...didn’t record it, Blaze.” What I did record was Trev talking about how fuckable the blonde was. Guy-talk. And this is a really inopportune time to explain that to a girl.
“Give me the recording,” she says.
This is like a nail in the coffin to me, because I realize it might end up incriminating me more than not. With an incomparable level of dread, I hand her my phone. “Look, Blaze...never mind.”
She takes the phone, starts listening to it:
Trev’s voice: “Bro! Are you fucking insane! Damn! There’s three hot hot HOT women in there right now just asking for it!”
Trev again: “I think she expected us to see her titties and then do her right here, two on one.”
Me: “When Tatiana called yesterday, I confess, my cock twitched.”
You don’t hear Dalya calling me from the bedroom, just some mumbling. Which is how the rest of the bedroom scene plays out on the recording. Mumbles which, like photographs, can be sorely misconstrued when taken out of context, or when not heard properly.
“I think I’ve heard enough.”
“You haven’t even let me explain, Blaze.”
“You said it yourself, the recording explains it. And that you never told me, only makes me believe this Tatiana’s version even more.”
“Please, Blaze, let me at least tell you my version.”
She folds her arms, eyes swollen and puffy. “You have five minutes. Start.”
THIRTY-FOUR
ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE?
-1-
Blaze Ryleigh
I want to believe him. I do. But I can’t. Because, if I’m wrong, I’ll be the idiot.
And have you ever heard of a dude facing a trio of gorgeous, naked and willing women, and simply walking away from them? Not even so much as a squeeze? Or a gentle caress down one of their... Urgh.
Just the thought of it makes me shudder.
We could do all manner of psychological analyses on this: Was it that “coolest guy” Eliasz Piscor kissing Zuzanna Osik instead of me? Was it Tolek’s baboon mentality when he groped me below? Was it losing my virginity to my best friend’s brother while high on Molly and then being grappled down to the ground by him years later? But none of it changes the way I feel. Psychological analyses and theories are all wonderful and happy-clappy when it comes to drinking martinis and philosophizing about the nature of life down at the country club. But in the real world, where the rest of us live, they’re about as useful as a Pantera album in a rave’s ultra-mellow chill-room.
The photos disgust me. The redhead’s face by Deck’s junk disgusts me. The orgasmic look of satisfaction on this Tatiana’s face disgusts me. The other blonde’s tits and almost-brown nipples disgust me.
And Declan in the middle of all of them disgusts me.
Most of all, that there is even the remotest possibility that it could all be a lie, that a woman of this caliber—rich, sexy, tall, shapely, and no doubt highly experienced—might be after me, also disgusts me.
At the end of Deck’s story, I say, “I need time. I need to process this.”
Deck hugs me, and I feel myself retract. Fear? Fear of losing him? More analyses. So let’s just skip them. I flinch away, and he feels it, and when he moves down to kiss me, I turn away my lips.
No analysis required. It’s just a fact.
-2-
After he leaves, I call Trev. Trev confirms what Deck said to me, and confirms that, in total, Deck was in with the naked nukes for about two or three minutes.
And I want to believe him as well.
But would you believe the best friend of a cheating boyfriend?
This is no comment about Trev’s personality. I love Trevor. And he is like a brother to me. So is Skate. They always will be.
But brothers also lie. In fact, brothers lie more than friends. Because they’re more afraid to hurt you.
It’s also a comment on the inviolate bond between men in trouble. I think you could run a pretty decent analysis on that one if you wanted to.
But what would be the fucking point?
-3-
Vikki, however, has no opinion. “It really is his word against hers, isn’t it? And a question of how much you trust him. I can’t defend him, or even fight against him, because there’s little evidence either way. Some of those photos are pretty convincing. Others, well, they look a little odd.”
“What they do prove is that he was in a room with three naked woman.”
“Yes, he didn’t deny that.”
“No. And if he’d been lying, I guess he could’ve said they were Photoshopped. You know, deny the whole thing, instead of just some of it.”
Vikki shrugs. “It really comes down to trust, Blaze. Do you trust him when he says he didn’t do anything?”
“I do.” And, inside my head, I add, Sort of.
-4-
Weeks go by. At first, we act as friends. None of the heat or passion of before. We go for coffees, for drinks. We talk.
And I believe him. I believe his story. I believe he was faithful.
What makes me believe him is not so much what he does, but what this Tatiana doesn’t do.
She doesn’t meet with me. She avoids me. I call her, and she sounds hesitant.
I find out she’s married. And that she was married when this incident with Deck supposedly happened.
I might have had doubts that Deck had cheated, but I know that she’s cheated! In a court of law, his testimony would stand up stronger.
We start kissing again, as if we were dating once more—soft, gentle kisses.
Touching is difficult. It takes a few more weeks before I let Deck take my top off again. I find myself constantly watching him, watching how the girls react around him. It doesn’t help that they react like dogs on heat. But is that his fault?
I try. I do. And, finally, I let him touch me like he used to touch me. I let his hand slide into my pants and into me. I let the moisture seep from me, and let my head drop to his colorful shoulder as he massages me and tells me he loves me.
My waist—held up by his thrusting hand—moves to and fro with every pump of his two fingers. I tighten, and liquid drips down the inside of my leg.
>
I bite him. His movements are kind, and needy. How can I not believe this boy? Was it just the hurt? The confusion of the moment?
I feel the sting of pleasure clamp around my ass and legs. I squeeze them. He presses lightly on my nub.
Our foreheads touch, then our noses. “Make love to me,” I say. “Make love to me again.”
His right hand clamps to the back of my neck, and I feel his head tremble. “I can’t, Blaze. Not until I know that you trust me. That you believe me.”
I realize that believing him—in the absence of any other evidence—is simply a decision I need to take. Something I need to tell myself and then be done with. I force the words out of my mouth, because no matter anything else, I know one thing: I love him, and I know that he loves me.
Do I trust him? I say, “I do. I believe you.”
As he enters me, on my bed, and as the friction of his pulsing cock massages and electrifies me, I tell myself this again. And again.
And again.
I clutch his shoulders, tighten my legs around his magnificent ass.
My vag narrows, heat thrills me, sweat washes over me. I groan, he groans. Tension builds and... “OH, GOD, DECK!”
I burst. I hold onto him while it takes over me, while I let the fears and pleasures and pains and confusions and joys and loves and hates of the last few months just roll over me. Letting myself go to it.
Letting myself hope.
Myriad images fly past me—the orgasm still ripping itself into me:
Deck, just before our first kiss, outside that concrete wall: “This must’ve been a heavy time in your life...” he said.
The contortions of his face the first time we made love. How we held onto each other.
Bobbing his head to Bieber over at that party at the Upper East Side.
Standing between me and Tolek at Slambam. “Protecting me.”
And as these thoughts pummel me, as my vag thrums and clamps and exquisite ecstasy slashes into me...I hear him groan: Soft, tender... Letting go.
His eyes close, his head goes down. He grumbles, “Uuuuuuuuurghhhhh.” And then, leans his head back, “Ah! FUCK. GOD!”
I feel him, inside me, thrashing, choking, firing away into me.
And just as I hold him, he holds me. Tight tight tight!
Holds me for dear life.
I wonder what pictures are going through his own mind right now, as our bodies unite. What’s he thinking?
Still feeling it, still being rocked by it, I stroke his growing hair. And I watch him. I force my eyes as I see the love in his tightly shut eyes and twisting lips. Sweat beads and drips down his temple.
He thrusts one more time into me, and I feel it pull the last twang of pleasure from me. And I watch it do the same for him.
He exhales. I laugh. “What are you laughing at?” he says.
I rub his hair. “I’m laughing at us.”
“Really?” He’s out of breath. “We’re funny?”
“No, we’re not. But life is funny, how it throws everything in your way so you can’t get what you want. And then, when it stops throwing things, and you do get it, you end up almost throwing it away.”
“And what is it that you want that you almost threw away?”
I try and say it fast and lightheartedly, but I end up quivering it out through a shaking chin. And the faucet in my eyes goes on as well: “You,” I choke. “All I want is you.”
Deck buries his forehead on my shoulder. He doesn’t say anything. But I feel him trembling. He holds me; so tight that I struggle to breathe. And that’s OK. That’s absolutely OK.
Because me and Deck—we’re good now.
We’re OK.
We’re still OK.
Life threw all it had at us, and we’re still here. We’re still fighting.
And we’re A-OK.
Will we continue to be OK?
There’s a little more that happens. Because The Bastid doesn’t give up easily. But remember I told you, right at the beginning, that he tried to get away from me, and that I came back—bloody-mouthed and bleary-eyed—and that I wouldn’t let that bastid go? Remember that?
Well, here we are.
Let the fighting begin.
Are you ready to ru-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-mble?
EPILOGUE
THE INEVITABLE...
Declan Cox
I’d love to tell you it was all smooth sailing from here. I’d love to tell you that Tatiana Watkins forgot her defeat and moved on with her life. (She didn’t.) I’d love to tell you that Trev never lost his scholarship. (He did.) I’d love to tell you Skate and Vikki hit it off right away, that Gina suddenly snapped out of her hell, that the cops placed Dino at the scene of the crime and had him in prison for arson...
I’d love to tell you that Blaze and I were safe now.
Let me just tell you that, even if we never heard from Tatiana again, Blaze and I would never be safe again until she could fully trust me. And she couldn’t. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. And so it went, that as time went on, we learned that the true enemies of our love were not Dino, Tatiana, Dalya D-Cup or even Tolek Two Face.
It was us. Ourselves.
And so the inevitable happened...
BOOK THREE
The story of Declan, Blaze, and their friends continues (and completes) in Book Three. This book will be out toward the end of April 2014 / early May 2014.
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Thanks for reading!
Love,
Rachel
Also by Rachel Dunning:
Know Me, #1 Truthful Lies
Finding North, #1 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy
East Rising, #2 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy
West-End Boys, #3 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy
Like You, #1 Perfectly Flawed Series
Christmas Comfort, #1 Hot Holidays Series
Girl-Nerds Like it Harder, #1 Girl-Nerd Series
Girl Nerds Like it Faster, #2 Girl-Nerd Series
Girl-Nerds Like it Deeper, #3 Girl-Nerd Series
Girl-Nerds Like it Longer, #4 Girl-Nerd Series
For news of upcoming releases, visit:
http://racheldunningauthor.blogspot.com