by J. M. Walker
How many times did one have to ask for forgiveness? Not that I had a chance to ask Xander for his yet.
“Hope, stop stewing. I love you, girl, but you’re going to get wrinkles and drive me to drink,” Embree had told me the night before. “Or have sex. Crazy mind-blowing panty-melting sex.” She waggled her eye brows, laughing at her own joke.
Drink. All night I had craved an ounce, even a drop. Of something. Beer. Whiskey. Tequila. Even wine would have worked. But I knew. I knew one drop would destroy me. It would set me back to the beginning or worse. Kill me.
Alcohol was the worst killer of them all. War. Famine. Sickness. Alcohol caused the most accidents in the world. So why did I crave it? Why did I need it more than anything? And how could I let myself get addicted to it?
My phone rang making me jump and I turned on the Bluetooth in my car before checking to see who was calling me. “Hello?”
“Hope, where are you?”
I winced at the harsh tone of my mother’s voice. It was worse than nails scratching down a chalk board. “I’m on my way to Caiden’s.” No point lying to her. She would end up calling Caiden anyways and badgering him with questions.
“Why? Are you seeing him? I thought he was gay.”
Taking a deep breath, I mentally counted to ten before I answered. “I’m heading over there because he keeps me sane. No¸ I’m not seeing him. If I was, I wouldn’t tell you. And no, he is not gay.”
“You know. Ever since you moved out, you’ve become so ungrateful. Your father misses you terribly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right,” I said slowly. “Like you miss me too?” I smirked when she didn’t say anything.
“Is that Xander boy going to be there?” she asked, accusation filling her tone with contempt.
“I have no idea,” I cried. “I haven’t seen him in years and he’s no longer a boy, mother. He’s a man.” And a fucking hot one from what I saw the other day.
“I don’t want you hanging out with him—”
“I am almost thirty,” I snapped. “You or dad can’t control me anymore.” I inhaled sharply, trying to control the racing nerves coursing through my body. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re calling, mother, but I have to go.”
“Your dad’s in the hospital,” her voice cracked. “He had a heart attack.”
Gripping the steering wheel tight, I cursed under my breath. “Is he alright?”
“He’s asking for you,” she whispered. I could picture her gripping her chest, flailing her hand against her forehead dramatically.
“Fine.” When I pulled into Caiden’s driveway a minute later, I reached for a pen. I frowned when my hand started shaking. Ignoring it, I grabbed a piece of paper from my purse. “Give me the details.” I wrote down what hospital he was at, his room number and how long he would be there for, promising to show up tomorrow. My mother tried guilt tripping me into going over right away but with my dad being in recovery and doing well, I didn’t see the point.
I loved my parents. I honestly truly did. But I loved them more when I was a child. Until I grew up and saw them for what they were. My fantasy of the perfect parents popped before my eyes. It could have been worse. I knew that. But my parents were both religious and controlling. As I got older, I no longer had the patience for them and moved out.
Caiden emerged in the doorway, making his way out onto the porch. Watching me.
Stepping out of the car, I stared in awe at the large expanse before me. “I’m still amazed you are building this house and no one knew.”
Caiden nodded once.
I closed the distance between us, gave him a hug and allowed him to lead me into his home.
His dark hair shone in the early morning light streaming in from the patio window. “I needed out of the city.”
“Is that the real reason?” I asked, my chest tightening.
He didn’t meet my gaze and continued to walk into the kitchen. He grabbed a cup of coffee off the table and took a sip before finally meeting my gaze. “Everything alright?”
“Is Xander sleeping?” I asked, ignoring Caiden’s scrutiny. I could sense a pull tugging me towards Xander. Even though he was several feet away, I knew he was close. I had to do everything in my power not to go to him and slip into his bed. Wanting to hold him, I knew it wouldn’t go over well.
“He is.” Caiden dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink. “What’s going on?”
I sighed. “My mother called me. I swear that woman is worse than the alcohol I drink.”
“She loves you,” was all Caiden said.
“She sure as shit has a funny way of showing it,” I mumbled.
“I want you to meet someone. In time. With Xander,” Caiden said, changing the subject.
I frowned. “Okay. Who?”
“That’s not important right now. But what is, is your training. We have to continue, Hope.” He headed to the stairs leading to the basement. “Xander will probably be up in an hour.”
“I’m ready. For anything,” I insisted, following him down the stairs. When Caiden had called me months before, offering to help me, I jumped at the chance. Knowing it would benefit Xander as well, I couldn’t resist.
“I know.” He stopped once we reached the bottom of the stairs. “How are the meetings going?”
“They help,” was all I said. What more could I possibly tell him about my AA meetings? How wonderful they were? How much I loved them even though I had to spill my guts every single week, telling strangers about how tempted I was to pick up a drink.
“You sound like you don’t want them to,” he said gently, turning on the hallway light.
I shrugged. “I would like once to be able to have a social drink and not lose control. To take one sip without it pushing me over the edge…”
“If Xander only knew,” Caiden said softly which I thought was probably more to himself than to me.
Not asking anymore questions about Xander, I decided to quickly change the subject. “How are you doing?”
Caiden turned back to me when we reached a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. “If you think you’re going to get any answers from me, think again, Hope.”
“Why do you feel the need to demand information but you won’t tell us jack shit?” I snapped, my voice a little harsher than what I had intended.
Caiden smirked and made his way into the room. “Because I can,” he said finally.
I huffed, crossing my arms under my chest and leaned against the wall. “I don’t know how this is going to help Xander. He doesn’t even know I’m here yet.”
“But he will.” Caiden handed me a coiled up rope. “Remember what you do with this when I tell you.”
Taking the rope from him, I remembered exactly what he had told me not too long ago. Even though it had been weeks since my first lesson, I could hear Caiden’s words like he said them a minute before.
“Let him trust you. Don’t force him into anything he doesn’t want to do. He will need a safeword.”
Giving Xander a safeword reminded me of those novels that were strictly all about bondage and sex. Or that was what I had thought before I read some books in that genre that were different. Much more. Trust. Commitment. Communication. It was all key to a healthy relationship no matter what you were into.
But Caiden taught me what he did, what he practiced and how it was different. It was more. Much much more.
And I couldn’t wait to have Xander at my mercy, begging me at the touch of my hands. If only he could love me just the same.
Xander
I HATED school. I hated everything about it. We were like caged rats, waiting for judgment day, getting picked off one by one.
The notes from today’s class stared up at me but I couldn’t make out what they said. My stomach twisted, an ache settling deep inside of my chest.
Something was wrong.
My gaze slid to my right, locking eyes with Caiden.
He raised an eyebrow. “You okay?” he w
hispered.
I could hear the words leaving his lips but I couldn’t form an answer.
The door to the classroom slowly creaked open, a tall redheaded girl making her way into the room. She handed the teacher a piece of paper before heading back out into the hall.
Mr. Puglisi glanced at me. “Xander, can you come with me please?”
At that point I knew. It was the middle of winter and the roads were horrible. My parents were supposed to be going on a trip. Leaving me with Caiden for a couple of days, they trusted that I could take care of myself.
I stood up before I noticed what I was doing. A zombie-like state took over, forcing me to the head of the class.
Mr. Puglisi was talking to me but I couldn’t make out any of his words. Maybe I was going deaf. Maybe I was still sleeping and I would wake up and find my parents sitting at the kitchen table drinking their morning coffees. Maybe I wouldn’t have had that fight with my dad the night before. Or yell at my mom, telling her she always took his side. Maybe they would still be alive and I wouldn’t be a drug addict. Maybe then I wouldn’t surrender to the liquid I craved. And I would be with Hope. And that part, that dark sinful part of me wouldn’t want Caiden to kiss me.
I woke with a panic, the tiny hairs on my body tingling and twitching with unease. Remnants of the nightmare pounded its way against the walls of my mind.
My lips tingled and I reached up to touch them. Whatever Caiden wanted from me, it wouldn’t be enough. I couldn’t give him what he needed. I just wasn’t sure if he knew that.
If only I could shut off my thoughts. Even to ignore the constant badgering my consciousness gave me. But I couldn’t. At times, my thoughts were so loud, I had to drink myself into a stupor to quiet them. My mouth watered. Fuck. I needed something. Anything to hide from myself.
Pulling on my pants, I padded across the room before quietly opening the door. I needed a fucking drink. Something. Anything.
Once I left the comfort of the room, a nagging feeling poked me in the gut. I frowned, glancing at a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. Soft music seeped from under the doorway. It wasn’t the usual music Caiden listened to. Although he was born in America, he was raised in the Japanese culture. His mother being Irish and his dad being born in Japan, he had the best of both worlds. He always liked to drive his dad insane by the heavy metal music. It went against the typical stereotype that if you’re pretty, dressed nice and are well mannered, you don’t listen to heavy metal. Well Caiden was all of those things, minus the pretty part. He did not look like a guy that loved to listen to screaming and someone banging on drums.
“You’re up.”
I spun on my heel, finding Caiden standing at the top of the stairs, staring down at me. Thoughts of my nightmare came back to me. Clearing my throat, I looked away and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.
“Follow me,” he said, making his way down the steps.
My feet moved of their own accord, following him as if they needed to.
“Although the rest of the house isn’t finished yet, the basement is.” He wore black drawstring pants and no shirt. Japanese symbols ran down the spine of his broad back, moving and flexing under his muscles.
“Why?” I asked, taking another look where the music was coming from.
Caiden winked. “Because there are items down here I needed first and foremost before anything else.”
“Like what?” I asked as we headed towards the set of double doors.
He pushed them open and frowned when the music became louder. “Wait here a moment.” He disappeared down the stairs, the soft melody shutting off a minute later. “Ready?” he asked, coming back up the steps. He turned around and I followed him.
The deeper into the ground we walked, the cooler and damper the air became, reminding me of a dungeon.
“What’s down here?” I brushed my fingers along the wall, noting the scent of spices in the air.
“A gym and other things.” His answer was vague and it was enough to drive me insane.
The only sounds following were of our feet shuffling along the concrete floor. “Caiden, what is this place?”
He didn’t respond until we came to another set of double doors at the end of the hall way. “This is the gym. Everything you need to work out is in here. Punching bags, weights, skipping ropes, everything.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Caiden moved past me and unlocked the door.
I turned and headed in after him, frowning when I stepped into what was the home gym. “I thought the other room was the gym.”
“It is in a way but no, this is the gym you will use.”
Curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t help but wonder what was in the other room. “Caiden.”
“It’s nothing you have to worry about. Yet,” he said, his voice final.
“Alright. Fine. What do you do in there anyway? Fuck the ladies?” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Even though darkness surrounded us, I needed things back to the way they were. I also still needed that damn drink.
“I will show you that room when you are ready but right now, you are not,” was all he said.
“Okay, Yoda.” I huffed and glanced back at those double doors. Anticipation washed over me, igniting an unexpected heat to spread over my body.
“Close the door and come here, Xander.”
My stomach gave a flip at the firm demand and I did as I was told.
“When I’m upset, angry or even feeling off, I work out.” He pressed a button on a stereo system across the room, the sound of heavy bass pumping through speakers following soon after.
The beat vibrated under my skin, rattling the skeleton of my bones.
“I know you work out. You go for runs but you can use this room as well, whenever you want to hit something.”
“Does it provide alcohol?” I muttered under my breath.
“No. It does not,” Caiden said, his voice harsh.
“Listen. There is nothing wrong with me having a drink—”
“Yes there fucking is,” Caiden snapped. “When you can’t control how much you drink? That is a huge fucking problem.”
“You are not my dad. I don’t get to have one of those anymore remember, asshole? Now give me a fucking beer or I’m out.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? One thing goes wrong and you’re done?”
“Caiden,” I growled.
“What? Work it out. Hit something. Hit me but don’t you dare abuse your body.” He looked at me over his shoulder, waiting. “Would you rather run outside?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. Although I was pissed, he knew how to distract me. Fucker.
Running outside was my favorite thing to do. The bite of the crisp air against my skin. My heart beating so hard against my rib cage, it threatened to explode. It helped me be free. Whole. Safe.
“You can run later. Right now, you need to hit something.” His eyes glittered and if I didn’t know any better, I swore he was challenging me to hit him.
Leaning my head from side to side, the tendons in my neck cracked under the pressure. The sharp sting travelled down the length of my spine, sending a flush of heat over my skin. It was a good pain. Like when you work out for hours knowing the final result is a healthy body. Of course in my case, the shit I consumed contradicted with me getting healthy. A huff escaped my lips and I walked up to the large punching bag. “You enjoy pissing me off, don’t you?”
“No.” Caiden grabbed the other side of the bag, holding it still. “I know you need to get your head out of your ass. Someone has to set you straight.”
Puh-lease. As if that would ever happen.
“I’m more of a loner when it comes to working out,” Caiden said, breaking the unnerving silence. “But either way, hitting something or running…lifting the shit out of those weights…whatthefuckever…to the point of burning is…”
I looked at him when his voice trailed off.
His dark blue eyes heated. “Delicious.”
I coughed. “Well that’s one way of putting it,” I mumbled.
“What do you like to do? Besides getting under my skin.”
“Fuck that noise.” I rolled my eyes. “I think it’s the other way around, dude.”
“Tell me.”
“Excuse me?” I frowned.
“What’s your favorite workout? What do you like to do to get your blood pumping? Your muscles burning.” He brushed his fingers down the side of the bag.
I watched as he caressed the heavy weight like a lover’s touch. “Becoming one with the punching bag?” I teased.
“Tell me what gets your heart racing,” he demanded, grabbing a staff attached to the wall by a gold clip.
“Uh…sex?” I blurted.
He raised an eyebrow. “You asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you.”
“Good.”
Before I could process what was happening, I landed flat on my back with an oof.
Caiden knelt at my head, holding the staff with two hands and pressed it against my throat.
My eyes widened. I gasped for breath, my lungs constricting at the lack of air. “Caid,” I rasped.
No emotion showed on his scarred face. “Self-defense is an excellent workout,” he said, releasing me.
I coughed, choking on the air I tried so desperately to inhale. “What the hell?” I demanded, gripping my throat. I rose to my feet, glaring at him.
Caiden swiped the stick against the back of my ankles, knocking me on my ass for the second time in a matter of minutes. His eyes twinkled, glittering with an accomplishment.
The breath left my lungs on a gasp, my muscles protesting at the unexpected abuse.
He laughed and held out a hand. “Self-defense can also work against internal demons.”
I growled, slapping my hand in his and allowed him to pull me to my feet. “Fucker.”
He handed me a staff, holding his upright and slammed it hard against the mat. “Fight your demons,” he demanded. In a quick move, he kicked my feet out from under me.
Landing hard on my back again, I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me for the third time in a matter of minutes. My lungs burned, my throat tightening. “Shit, Caiden.”