by Portia Moore
“Vincent, this isn’t about you not being enough, this is about me making something of my own for myself. Having something I can be proud of to tell our kids about one day,” I tell him, my own tone softening towards the end.
“I miss you, Poppy. The place is too big without you here. I want you home. I’m okay with you going to school, of course. I was the one who said I’d pay for it. I just want you to have time to settle in. Being married is going to be a big change…you’ll be my wife, my partner. There’ll be things you’re responsible for. I wanted you to have time to adjust to being a bigger part of the inner workings of my world before you have to think about school, classes, homework, and internships…and all of that. I just don’t want you to pile too much on your plate, that’s all.”
It makes sense. He’s looking out for my well-being. He wants me to be happy and taken care of.
“I…I’m sorry if I overreacted,” I say slowly. “I love you. I was just scared, that’s all. Scared that we would get married, and I’ll lose myself…that I’d just be your wife and nothing else.”
“I don’t want you to lose yourself, Poppy, of course not. Who you are is why I love you. I just don’t want you to take too much on. Come home, Poppy. We’ll talk everything out. I miss you. I’m sorry, truly I am. Just come home.”
It all sounds so good. He said exactly what I’ve wanted him to say, what I expected to hear from the man I’ve fallen in love with. So, I close my eyes and cross my fingers, a smile fighting to spread across my face.
“Okay,” I say, feeling my heart thud in my chest as I speak. “I’ll come home.”
“Great. I’ll send my driver. Tell me where you are.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get an Uber.”
“Poppy…”
“Vincent, please just let me do this on my own.”
“Alright,” he relents with a sigh. “Just get home soon, Poppy. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I put the phone down, sighing heavily. I look around Marcus’s apartment, feeling that I’m doing the right thing.
I don’t want to go back to this, do I? To an apartment the size of a shoebox with thrift-shop couches? To worrying about whether or not I could scrape together enough for rent, choosing between paying a utility bill or a fun night out? Not being able to help my family, being a burden to them?
No, I couldn’t, and Vincent has never lied to me. So I gather my things up and text Marcus that I’m going home and will slip his key in his mailbox. He texts me back to keep it, saying I can use it whenever I need to. I smile, seeing that he’s grown in the time we’ve spent apart, but still tuck the key inside his mailbox.
Chapter 32
Rain
Three years earlier
I’m home alone when I hear the soft rap on my window. I push it open and Zach climbs in, his face pale and stunned. His hair, that’s usually gorgeously messy, is all over the place, and his face is red.
“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly. He doesn’t say anything, only pulls me to him. His lips envelop mine, our bodies press together—as if he’s afraid of me going anywhere, that he’s desperate for me. I can’t help but kiss him back, my whole body going electric from his touch, but I push him away after a moment. “Zach, what’s going on, are you okay?”
“I can’t explain,” he says quietly. His eyes are pained, his expression lost. “It’s my family. Something bad happened, Rain. Whatever you hear, it’s not going to be true, okay? But I’ve got to leave, babe. And I know you’re going to want to go with me, but you can’t. Everything I said today, I meant. I love you. But I have to go. And you can’t come with me, or after me. I need you to understand…”
What is he talking about? He’s leaving? What happened with his family? Tears are filling my eyes, hot and sharp. I feel panic and anxiety start to wash over me.
“How can I understand if you won’t tell me?”
“Do you trust me?” He reaches for my hands, his fingers threading through mine.
“Always, I’ll always trust you,” I whisper.
“Then I need you to trust that I wouldn’t do this unless I had to. That this is killing me. Rain.” His voice is pained, and I see tears in his eyes.
I’ve never seen Zach cry before.
He looks as if he’s being torn apart, and all I want is to make it stop. To comfort him somehow. To make whatever is hurting him go away.
So I lean forward and grasp his face in my hands, relishing the feel of his stubble against my palms, the warm softness of his lips under mine. I press my mouth against his with a little more finesse this time, tasting him as I slide my tongue along his lips. For a second I think he might pull back, that he might tell me to stop, but he doesn’t. He groans, a low deep sound in his throat, and then he pulls me against him the way he did on the steps, except this feels more desperate, as if he can’t wait another moment. His hands bury themselves in my hair, his lips hard against mine as he kisses me back, his tongue sliding into my mouth. And then he breaks the kiss, taking a deep breath.
“Did you mean it?” he asks quietly. “What you said the other night. About wanting me to be your first?”
My breath catches in my throat. My entire body is tingling.
“Yes,” I whisper. “But Zach…” His crystal blue eyes lock onto mine.
“It won’t change anything.” His voice sounds thick with emotion, as if he’s struggling to stay composed. “I’ll still have to leave, even if this happens.”
My heart is breaking, and I’m doing all I can to hold it together, to not let the fear and panic overtaking me win. So I close my eyes and kiss him with everything in me—all my love, my pain, my fear, my longing. Letting him feel what I’ve wanted for years.
We fall onto the bed together, next to each other as he pulls me tightly to him, kissing me like it will be the last time. His hands are on my face, his tongue sliding into my mouth, against mine, and I gasp.
“Slow,” he whispers, more as if to himself than to me. “Easy.”
And he is slow after that, and gentle. I don’t fully believe that it’s going to happen, that it’ll be more than kissing, until his hand starts to slide under my tank top and I feel him take a shaky breath. His hands go to my waist and he rolls me onto my back. He slowly peels off my tank top, tossing it aside.
He undresses me like I’m something precious. Love and honor and cherish, I remember him saying, talking about the wedding vows, and his hands on my body make me feel that way. I’ve never been naked in front of a boy before, never let anyone see me like this, but I’m not afraid of it with Zach.
He’ll always take care of me.
“Jesus, Rain, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, looking down at me.
I touch him gently, my hands exploring his body as he explores mine. “Careful,” he tells me, laughing shakily as my hands seek out all the parts of him that I’ve been curious about. “I want this to last.”
I kiss him again, more deeply this time, my body angling against his, and he presses his forehead against mine as he takes a deep and trembling breath. “Are you sure, Rain?” he asks. “You have to be sure.”
“I’m sure,” I whisper. And then, while I still have the courage to say it, “I love you, Zach.”
“I love you too,” he whispers, and the sweetness of the words distract me from that first stinging pain, the strangeness of this new intimacy with another person. I’m caught up in the new sensations, the feeling of his hands and lips and body, and I try to remember it all, this first time. Whatever happens after, it will only be like this once.
It’s not the way I’ve read in romance novels. There’s no blinding ecstasy or waves of pleasure. It feels odd, and sort of hurts, but then starts to feel kind of good. It’s the closeness I’m loving more than anything, melding my body to his, us together like we’re almost one person. Zach’s face is a different story—there’s blinding pleasure there, for sure. I’ve always felt for as long as we’ve known each othe
r that we were two parts of one whole, and here we are, together at last. There’s a sense of rightness to it, a closeness that I’m glad I haven’t felt with anyone else before this.
I want to believe that he will be my last, my only, after we finish. His arms encircle me as his lips press against my neck, and I curve against him, the two of us fitting together like perfect spoons. I want to believe that this is it for us. That it will just be us forever, and no one else. But I know that’s impossible.
Not now. Not ever.
The bright afternoon when he told me the good news, when he said that he loved me for the first time, seems very far away now.
“I’ll always remember this,” I whisper to him.
“I’ll never forget this,” he says in return before kissing me softly on the lips.
I feel the sun on my face and relish in its warmth. Last night was real. It happened. And it was amazing…everything I could hope for. I turn over to feel for Zach’s body to snuggle against him, to see the eyes that made me speechless the first day we met, to hear the voice I’ve waited so long to say he loves me. But when I stretch my body out, I don’t come across his warm flesh and lean limbs. I don’t smell his scent. When I open my eyes, he isn’t there.
Thoughts of the night before crash around me.
What happened before I gave myself to him—the fear in his eyes, the desperation in his expression—hits me like a truck. Last night I ignored it. I pushed it away because it couldn’t be real; it was Zach overreacting. I wanted to feel him, to touch him, to be touched, but now I’m horrified that I didn’t press him about what happened. To see if he’s okay. Is he really gone? No, he can’t be gone, not for real. I push myself out of bed and flush when I realize I don’t have any clothes on. My eyes go to my clock. It’s 7:30 am. I reach for my phone and call his number but it goes straight to voicemail. I call it again and again, and it’s the same thing.
“No, Zach!” I shout. I grab my clothes and throw them on, and rush out of the house in case Erin or my dad is around. I grab my bike and peddle as fast as I can over to his house. I knock on the door, hoping that he’s in there and hasn’t left yet, but no one answers. There’s no noise at all. I take out my phone and call him again. When it rings, my heart leaps, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. I pray with everything in me that he’ll answer—and I almost scream with happiness when he does.
“I was so scared,” I let out breathlessly.
“Don’t be scared, Rain. I’m going to be okay,” he tells me, his voice calm. It alleviates some of my anxiousness.
“Where are you?” I ask him. And there’s a beat.
“I’m gone, Rain. I told you last night,” he says, his voice low and solemn. I feel my face scrunch up.
Gone. Gone where?
“For how long? You didn’t tell me much. I saw you were upset, but I didn’t want to make it worse,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
“I had to leave last night…my dad, he was hitting my mom. He was going to kill her…”
My heart starts to beat a million miles a minute.
“What happened?” I ask, almost afraid to let the words leave my mouth, terrified to hear the answer as I stare at the empty house.
“I had to stop him, Rain.”
“What happened, what did you do?” I ask apprehensively.
“I can’t tell you, and I can’t come back.”
All the air in me leaves my body. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“No. We can figure it out, just tell me what happened. I’ll help you figure it out.”
“You can’t, Rain! There’s no figuring it out. I’m in trouble. I might be in a lot of trouble. I don’t know yet…” His voice is shaky, but I can tell he’s trying to be strong for me. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Tears are coming down my cheeks. My body is trembling. All I want is for him to show up and wrap me in his arms and tell me it will be okay.
“I don’t know how much trouble I’m in, but I’m going to have to deal with it on my own, okay?”
“Zach, I want to come with you. Wherever you are, come and get me,” I beg him. My voice is broken now, and I can’t hide the fact that I’m crying.
“Don’t do this, Rain. I have so much I have to figure out. Please don’t cry,” he begs, but I’m already crying.
“Are you going to go to jail?” I ask through tears.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what my mom is going to tell the police. I don’t know how my dad is,” he says quietly.
“I can talk to her, Zach. She’s your mom. Your dad is a monster!”
“No! You don’t go anywhere near them, Rain. You hear me? Stay away from them, okay?” His voice is firm and authoritative, the fear gone from it. It makes me grab my bike with one hand and start to move away from the house.
“Rain, are you there?” he asks, and I whimper.
“I need you to promise me something,” he says. I don’t answer, but my sobs let him know I’m listening.
“You need to forget about me, okay?” I immediately shake my head and push my eyes closed.
“You have to Rain. You’re beautiful, smart, and you can make something of yourself.” I begin to cry harder. “You’re strong too. If I would have realized how strong you were sooner, things would have been better. I underestimated you,” he tells me, and I hear his voice crack.
“Why does this sound like goodbye? This isn’t a goodbye, Zach. You wouldn’t leave me, you promised to take care of me!” I screech, letting the bike fall beside me, I don’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.
“I did, and this is me doing that. You’re going to stop hanging out with people like Roni. No more stealing. You’re going to do good in school and try to get into a good college. That Marcus guy seems smart, stick with him.”
“I don’t want him, I want you!” I scream. He’s quiet. I wonder where he is, what he’s doing, and if this is as hard for him as it is for me.
“I’m going to have to get rid of this phone,” he says, his voice dim.
“Please, no, how will I call you? How will we talk?” I say frantically.
“I have to disappear. You won’t be able to.”
“Zach. Please just…” I don’t know what I’m pleading with him about. I don’t want him to come back if he could get in trouble. I can’t leave my family and go be with him, no matter how much I want to. It would only get him in more trouble. My mom would get him arrested for kidnapping, and now that he’s eighteen, maybe even statutory rape if she found out what’s happened. I feel sick, with no idea of how to make this better.
“I love you, Rain. I’ll always love you. But you can’t love me.”
“You can’t stop me—” and before I can finish my sentence, the phone goes silent. I look at it and see that the call has ended. I immediately call the number back, and it goes to voicemail again. I call over a dozen times before I pick up the bike and drag myself all the way home. I don’t go to class. I fall into bed and don’t move from the spot. I cry so many tears they soak my pillow. I don’t know how much time passes until my mom is standing over me, looking tired but worried.
“Rain, what’s wrong? You didn’t go to school today?!” she asks urgently. I try to pull myself together but realize there’s no point in not trying to look miserable; it’s impossible.
“My period’s really bad this month,” I mutter, and her face softens. She sits beside me and kisses me on the cheek.
“You should have called me at the school so I could have reported your absence.”
“Sorry,” I say dryly.
“I’ll make you some soup, and then you should take a Motrin.”
I mutter thanks, and she gives me an empathetic smile before leaving the room and closing my door. I try to think about how I can fake that my world has not come to an end.
Chapter 33
Rain
Present day
When I walk into the penthouse, Vincent is standing with someone. At first glance, I think
it’s a metrosexual; at closer look, I see that it’s a woman—tall, androgynous, dressed in a fitted black suit with a white shirt underneath, her black hair cut into a short pixie. Despite all of this—or maybe because of it—she is one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen.
“Poppy, this is April Bellona,” he tells me casually as I walk in. I’m a little taken aback. I thought once I got here he’d greet me alone and it’d include being swept up in his arms with whispered apologies while he made love to me. But he’s dressed as if he’s about to leave any minute, and I wonder why he’s introducing me to one of his business associates now of all times.
“It’s nice to meet you, Poppy,” she says, her voice as even as Vincent’s. I fight the urge to tell her my name isn’t Poppy, it’s Rain, but I don’t want to fight with Vincent the first few minutes I’m back home.
“Uhm, nice to meet you as well.” I look to Vincent waiting for him to make our introduction and she seems to be as well. He swaggers across the room and guides me firmly by the waist so that April and I can shake hands. I look at him, still wanting to know who she is exactly.
“April is going to be working here for me. For us, but most importantly, with you. She’s a former US Marine, and has trained extensively in mixed martial arts; Karate, Judo, and Krav Maga...”
Wait, what? Working with me?
“You want me to learn martial arts?” I laugh, a little surprised. I glance at April, whose face reveals nothing, but at least Vincent’s energy is becoming warmer than it was when I walked in.
“I’m sure April can show you a few moves if you like, but you won’t need them while she’s here. April is going to be your new best friend, make sure you’re safe and all your needs are met. Like an assistant almost,” he explains brightly with a wide smile.
I look between them, stunned. An assistant? Why would I need an assistant to keep me safe? I don’t really do anything, unless he thinks I need one to make things easier for me when I start school. That’s the idea I try to cling onto because it’s sounding as if she’s a babysitter.