Wild Nights

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Wild Nights Page 11

by Shayne Ford


  He jumps up to his feet and pulls his shorts up.

  “Braxton?”

  I reach to him and try to grab his arm. He slips out of my grip and sprints to the sea. His back curves in the air as his body slices its way back into the water and vanishes underneath.

  Fear rams through me.

  Shit.

  I leap up to my feet and run after him.

  “Braxton... Don’t you fucking leave me here!” I scream.

  The sea is calm and silent, stretching in front of me, indifferent. Panic pours into my veins. He’s not that crazy to leave me here.

  “Braxton!!” I cry out and then go after him, desperate to catch him.

  The water grows to my shoulders, and my heart beats in my mouth as I spot the rock where I’m supposed to dive in.

  I take a long breath, and without much thought, I pull down under the water and swim along the wall between the coves.

  Panic sets in my blood, as the end seems nowhere in sight. I almost lose hope when an arm wraps around me and pulls me up above the surface.

  Panting, I snake my legs and arms around him as we emerge. He walks with me in the shallow water and leans against the rock.

  My lungs pump hard, craving the air.

  “Fuck you, Braxton...” I say, having a hard time breathing. “Why did you do that to me?”

  He looks at me, hurt and vulnerable, and beautiful.

  “To make you understand that we’re in this together... Without one the other gets lost or drowns or dies. Do you fucking get it?”

  I nod several times, tears washing over my eyes.

  “Yes... Yes,” I say, my body shaking.

  My hands curl around his neck as he sweeps me in a tormented kiss, both starved as if we hadn't loved each other mere moments ago.

  13

  JAGGER

  A strange feeling stays with me the whole fucking evening.

  In the car, at the club, on the stage. Despite the crowd, the noise and the music, I can’t shake it off. It hovers over me, like a fucking fog.

  Nothing feels right.

  My mind plays his words on a loop, the torment in his eyes still haunting me.

  Suddenly I teeter on the edge and stare into the abyss as I sense him gone. The man who used to be my rock, and I could blindly trust. The friend I loved more than myself.

  It’s like a half of me is gone, a blizzard blowing in my heart.

  As the night grows older, it all becomes a haze. I go through the motions until it’s time to go home.

  It’s almost morning when I leave.

  I walk off the stage and take the back exit, women crossing paths with me. They’re hot and willing, alcohol running in their blood.

  “Hey, babe,” one says, a hand brushing my groin as I sneak between them.

  I pull away, their voices echoing behind me.

  I rush out of the club and drive home.

  The morning rolls into the night, stretching a band of pale light on the horizon. Soon, his home comes into view. I bring the car to a stop and glance around.

  He’s not home yet.

  They’re not home.

  That same feeling that clung to me the whole evening flares up again as I walk into the house and look for her, anticipating the worse.

  “Violet?” I call her, holding the crazy belief that she’s here.

  I scoop the phone out and call her. I reach her voicemail.

  This can’t be good, I muse, my jaw tensing.

  I peel my T-shirt off, grab a bottle of scotch and saunter to the terrace. The salty air fills my lungs. It smells like pine trees, flowers, and the sea. This whole place should feel like freedom, yet right now it feels like a grave.

  Forty minutes later, a car pulls in front of the house. Soon, their footsteps echo in the hallway. They walk across the living room and enter the kitchen.

  Propped against the railing, arms folded over my chest, I take them in, the somber realization freezing my blood.

  I lost them.

  His eyes lock mine, stormy and conflicted, filled with lust and sorrow. I had already seen that twenty-four hours ago.

  Split down to his abs, his shirt reveals his bare chest, his corded neck, and all the bloody scratches on his skin.

  Violet can’t even hold my gaze.

  Her hair is wet, entangled, her dress crumpled, barely hanging on her body. Sand covers her feet.

  Her lips glisten, full and swollen, her eyes churning heat and sadness.

  Like his.

  He fucked her real good.

  He fucked her so well she’s no longer mine. Their hands come linked, yet quickly pull away as my eyes dip.

  Without a word, she turns her back to us and goes into the bedroom. I snatch the empty bottle from the railing and stride into the kitchen.

  “What did you do to her?” I ask, my voice half cold, half boiling with unbridled fury.

  He pulls the fridge door open, and grabs a bottle, evading my eyes.

  “Nothing,” he says between gulps of water, his back turned to me.

  “Braxton?”

  He doesn’t say another word, and I swing my arm and hurl the bottle, smashing it against the wall, the glass pulverizing next to him.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” he snarls and lunges at me.

  Faster than me, he grabs my neck and pins me to the wall.

  “What the fuck did you do to her?” I growl.

  I yank his arms off me and rip his shirt open. Dry blood stains his shirt, long scrapes crawling up his shoulder.

  My eyes go blank.

  I grip his neck and throw him on the table. He falls on his back, rolls to his side, breaks my lock, and storms outside.

  “Braxton!!”

  “Go fuck yourself, Jagger. I don’t need to tell you anything.”

  He sprints across the lawn and to the beach. I catch up with him as he slows down to peel off his clothing.

  “Is this to get back to me?” I shout, and he finally turns to me.

  He closes the gap between us and stops inches away from me. His blue-gray eyes lock me in place with a soulful gaze.

  “You know the answer. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Jagger. I never did and never will. She’s still ours.”

  I shake my head.

  “You don’t understand... She’s no longer mine.”

  His lips curve into a slow, sad smile, his hand sliding to my face.

  “Yes, she is... We’re both yours,” he breathes into me, touching my lips briefly, a scent of sea, cologne, and Violet’s perfume rolling over me.

  He pulls back, his words and touch reverberating inside me.

  “Come swim with me, man,” he shouts, sprinting backward, grinning as if nothing happened, and then he spins around and dashes to the sea.

  I drop my jeans on the beach and follow him.

  Moments later I dive into the water and swim with him, tasting freedom again.

  Hours later he lets his towel slide off his body and crashes in the bed, next to Violet. Soon, his soft breaths weave with hers.

  Silently, I pack a few things, make a couple of calls, climb into my car, and drive away.

  Close to noon, I check into a hotel. As soon as I get into my room, I strip off my clothes and bury myself between the sheets, hoping to forget.

  With that thought, I fall asleep.

  VIOLET

  “Jagger?!”

  My dream pulls back, vanishing in a fog. I flip my eyes open, jerk upright, and look around.

  He hasn’t come to bed.

  Still asleep, Braxton breathes softly, his face sunk into a pillow.

  I slip out of bed, throw a long T-shirt on me and search the house. I check every nook and cranny, and then the terrace, the backyard, and the beach.

  I follow the trail of footprints leading to the water, a small piece of metal hung onto a string of leather catching my eyes.

  Jagger’s bracelet.

  I pick it up and close my palm over it as if I hold
his heart. The wind pushes white, ragged crests toward the shore.

  I cross my legs beneath me and sit on the sand, my eyes trained on the sea.

  Moments later, I roll to my side and curl into a ball, my eyes still rooted on the boats sailing toward the horizon.

  Slowly, I drift off to sleep.

  “Violet?” Braxton’s voice rolls in my ears after a while, and the awareness kicks in.

  Fingers tickle my face.

  I look up and peel a speck of sand off my lips, my sight filling with Braxton’s flip flops, shorts, and his dangling necklace.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks.

  A smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his features. I pull myself up and to my knees, my lips still tasting like sand.

  “I was looking for him.”

  His smile dies out.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s gone,” I say, my voice gloomy, and he knows exactly what I mean.

  He turns his phone on and calls him. Then sends him a message. Then calls again and leaves a voicemail message.

  “How do you know he’s gone?”

  “He’s gone. He never came to bed. We never talked. You were the last one who saw him before he left...”

  His gaze slips to the side.

  “Braxton?”

  “We argued, and then we swam for a good couple of hours. He seemed fine to me...”

  “Argued over what?”

  He finally looks at me, a shadow rushing over his eyes.

  “He drank... Stupid shit.”

  He pulls his gaze away from me again.

  “And then?”

  “I fell asleep...”

  “... and then he left,” I say.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find him,” he says, his arm looping around my shoulders.

  “I don’t think he wants to come back...”

  I pause, and he glances at me as I struggle to say the words that sicken me.

  “I don’t think he wants... this arrangement anymore,” I finally say.

  He tilts my chin up and looks into my eyes.

  “It’s not an arrangement, Violet... Please don’t say that,” he says, burying me in his arms. “We’ll bring him back. I promise you,” he murmurs in my hair.

  14

  JAGGER

  One week later

  A soft rap on the door draws my eyes to the entrance.

  I place the drink on the patio table, enter the room, and swing the door open without peering through the peephole.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I bark, giving Braxton a swift once over.

  All dressed up, he looks exactly like that night when he took Violet out for dinner. Same runway, sleek look. Tailored black shirt and pants, tousled hair.

  His eyes drill into mine.

  “Where is she?”

  “May I come in?” he asks.

  “Sure.”

  I turn my back to him, snatch a pair of jeans from a chair and toss them away, then motion him to take a seat.

  “You want something to drink?”

  I shift my eyes to him.

  “Okay...” he says.

  I pour whiskey from a bottle, hand him the glass, and grab mine from the terrace. I toss the amber liquid down my throat and set the empty glass on the table.

  He studies me over the rim before he places his drink on the table as well. His gaze follows me as I lean against the windowsill, his eyes dipping to my bare chest.

  I cross my arms and pin my gaze on him.

  “What’s this, Jagger?” he asks, calm and distant.

  “What’s the point in staying there, Braxton?”

  “You really think you can just walk away?”

  I huff and chuckle.

  “I just did, didn’t I? So there’s your answer. The world didn’t come to an end.”

  A bitter smile tugs at his lips. He leans back in his chair and combs his fingers through his hair.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted, Braxton?”

  His eyes come to me, washed with sorrow. He shakes his head slowly.

  “No. I didn’t want this.”

  I tuck my hands in my pockets.

  “You wanted her... You can have her now,” I say dryly. “She didn’t give a damn about me, anyway. She didn’t even have the courage to talk to me. And you know why? Because she’s a fucking coward. She’s always been. Like you...”

  The rustle of clothing travels quickly toward me as he jumps out of the chair, erasing the space between us.

  I push up to my feet, his hand already bumping into my shoulder, pushing me against the window.

  His eyes blaze at me. I look at him, unfazed.

  “I’m not gonna fight you, Braxton. It’s too late, and it’s useless. I no longer care what you want or what she wants. I don’t give a fuck why it happened the way it did. And I don’t believe that you two care. So go fuck yourself... or her. I don’t give a damn.”

  The words float in the air, making the light die out in his eyes.

  I give him a dark, twisted smile.

  “And just so you know, I’m not gonna let you suck me, either.”

  His lips pull tight, stifling a quiver. His jaw clenches and my gaze drops to a twitching muscle, and then to his lips before I slowly bring it back to his eyes.

  They sparkle with pain, screaming at me.

  “Why are you doing this to me, Jagger?”

  A moment of silence slips between us.

  “To fucking feel... how much it hurts me,” I say, my voice coarse and broken. “I don’t know what feels worse, the fact that she had a change of heart or the fact that you betrayed me.”

  “I didn’t betray you.”

  “You did, man. You let me down. I thought I could trust you. I didn’t ask you not to love her. All I wanted for you not to go behind my back, not to lie to me, not to make her fall for you and make her feel torn, split and broken. She told me this would happen. She said it all along. You made damn sure she’d lose her heart over you, so you could have her in your hand, and crush me. Why would you do that, Braxton?”

  Tears get caught in his lashes.

  “You’re saying the same thing she said... You don’t understand. I didn’t do anything. We all followed out hearts, and this is the result. I never wanted it to be only her and me. She knows it, and you know it too, and right now I’m here for you.”

  His eyes bore into mine, desperate and vulnerable, brimming with emotions. His hand comes to my shoulder as the other slides to my face.

  “There are things I never told you because I was too afraid. You’re right. She’s not the only coward. Perhaps I am as well, or maybe we both feared we’d lose you if we spoke. I love you with all my heart, and now you know it’s more than that. I showed it to you… And I know you feel for me too.”

  “Why now, Braxton?”

  He tilts his head to the side, and curves his lips into a slow smile, his fingers brushing my face gently.

  “There’s never a good time or a bad time.You can’t control these things, Jagger, the same way I can’t control how I feel about you or her. We’ve been doing this for so long, and you were never able to admit to yourself what it was, although you’ve always taunted me, and I’ve always had a hard time pulling back and respecting that space between us, but we both knew it was an elusive distance. I don’t like other men, Jagger. I never did. But I like you… And I can’t explain why. I like women as much as you do, but I always felt this pull to you. And it wasn't only a line we could’ve crossed when we fucked together. It was much more than that. When Violet came into play, things started to crumble for me. I knew you were falling for her, and I was perfectly aware that our life was on the cusp of change. I knew she’d pull you away from me, and we’d become like those men who only see each other at parties or anniversaries. I couldn’t stand the idea. I knew you were as hungry for freedom as I was. It just happened that you found someone you were willing to sacrifice it for. The freedom, our dreams, me.”
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  He pauses, his eyes going down on me, his fingers tugging at the strings of my sweatpants before he looks up again.

  “When you let me touched her for the first time, you gave me hope that things could be different for us. I also hoped you’d sense what was happening between us.”

  “I knew that,” I murmur, and light sparks in his eyes. “That’s why I let you in. I didn’t do it for you, or me, or Violet. I did it for all of us... I wanted to taste that freedom and love, and yes, the lust. I’m not afraid to admit it. I wanted her to love you, and I wanted you to love her, and I wasn’t afraid because I trusted you,” I say.

  “I didn’t do anything, Jagger. I knew we’d get to a crossroad and she’d have to choose. I knew she’d pick you. I told you I’d walk away, and I would've, but after what happened between us that was no longer possible. It wasn’t an option. So I did the only thing I could do. I opened my heart to both of you, to make it harder for you and also for her to push me away. Same thing you did to us. She’s opened her heart to me, but she’s never loved you less because of me. That’s what you saw that evening. That’s why I told you we were both yours. We both love you, Jagger. When you pulled back and left... you crushed us. ”

  His eyes glitter with tears.

  Suddenly, he pulls away from me, snatches his phone and heads for the door.

  “Hey! Where are you going?”

  He doesn’t turn or answer, and I pace to the door and slam it as he tries to get out.

  “You know the truth, Jagger. I’ll leave at the end of the week, and go back to the States. She’s no longer at my house. She moved out on her own after you left. She lives in a small cottage by the sea and works on her business. I haven’t touched her since that night,” he says, with a strangled voice, without looking at me.

  He pushes me to the side, and storms out of the room. I dart to the closet, put some clothes on and run after him. His car whooshes by me as I dash out of the hotel. I sprint to my ride, shove the keys in the ignition and pull onto the road.

  I catch up with him later on, both of us speeding up on the road leading to his house. A half hour later, he jolts his car to a stop, climbs out and rushes into the house.

 

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