by S. E. Dosher
A constant battle rages inside me seeking to place blame somewhere – anywhere. I’d take the responsibility myself, but knowing Niko is also at fault stops me. In sharing the guilt with him, I feel as though I owe him – and myself – forgiveness. Can I forgive him without forgiving myself? Do we both deserve forgiveness? I don’t even know that he wants it. My mind rattles through the events that led me to this place non-stop, all day, every day. No matter what I do, I can’t escape it. The lack of closure is driving me slowly insane.
The only time I don’t drive myself crazy trying to solve my riddle of despair is when I’m with Stephen. After Niko revealed his secrets, I ran to Stephen. Walked away from Niko, immediately to my car, and drove to Stephen’s. And I haven’t left since. That day I poured my heart out to him, every small, embarrassing detail. He didn’t judge me, he accepted my heartache and promised not to leave my side. He has been my rock, and considering that all my troubles stem from another guy, I think he’s valor deserves a medal.
Some nights I’m alone while he stays at his club, but I’m still too afraid to stay at my own house. Scared Niko will appear and demand something from me; even though part of me doubts he would, I know I’m not ready to give him anything, so I can’t bring myself to risk seeing him. My emotions are confusing enough in my head, and I know I won’t be able to explain them to him.
Things with Stephen have quickly progressed from staunch friendship to a more causal arrangement, where hugs and tiny kisses are exchanged comfortably. Neither of us has pushed for a label to be placed on our relationship, we’ve just accepted the comfort the other has offered.
But I can’t expect our relationship to stay the same without further declarations from both of us – whatever those declarations may be. I know he once loved me, and in my own way, I loved him in return, but I don’t feel those same feelings now…yet. I’m hopeful when the time comes, if the time comes, I’ll be prepared.
I don’t know what I want. Stephen, Niko...or neither.
When I finally arrive at Stephen’s, the house is empty, and I haven’t received an answer to my text message. Knowing if he plans to stay here tonight doesn’t necessarily have an effect on my plans, which only include sleeping, but after tonight’s photo shoot I feel the need to see him. I need his presence to calm the thoughts of Niko. Letting myself feel the rush of memories from a time when Niko completely consumed my mind is not something my heart can take.
Every addict deals with their compulsion in a different way. Some taper off their dependency little by little until the cravings are gone, while others go cold turkey cutting off all thoughts and need – I choose the latter approach. I was never a “half-in” kind of girl, I’m either completely consumed by an act, or I avoid it at all costs.
I only have a few items of clothing at Stephen’s, so I wrap myself in an oversized towel and pad to the back patio. I quickly slide into the bubbling hot tub, hoping the warmth of the water penetrating my skin will wash away the thoughts of Niko. Sinking down until the water flows just below my chin, I will it to caress my muscles into submission. My whole body needs to relax and loosen if I ever hope to find sleep tonight.
My head drifts back to rest on the edge of the tub, and my eyes close as the warmth spreads deep into my core. The scene on the backs of my eyelids isn’t the one I photographed tonight; instead, it’s the original scene. The one from Niko’s I unknowingly set up the photo shoot to be reminiscent of, and now I can’t stop seeing Niko in all his glory.
In my mind I watch his hands roam the bare back of a woman, trailing down until his fingers thread beneath her panties. I arch my back just as his fingers glide across where I know her most sensitive spot is, my nipples peak out from under the warm water and the cool breeze hardens them swiftly. My own hand roams down my stomach and slithers between my folds – down and up, circling around to send pleasure shooting through my body.
The vision switches to just Niko. His body hovering over mine as his dark eyes search my face for a hint of the pleasure he’s trying to give me. I know this won’t take long; I haven’t had an orgasm since the last one Niko gave me. My head hasn’t been in the mindset to enjoy even the thought I might deserve the satisfaction I’d get from it.
Right now, though, the gloomy state of my head and my heart is no match for the neediness between my legs. My finger rubs slow circles around my clit, coaxing it to swell. My legs spread wide, just like they’d be posed with Niko between them. It doesn’t take much beyond his image in my head and the touch of my hand to drive me close to climax. Just as I feel the sparks of my release shoot through my body, a loud thud sounds from inside the house. My legs slam closed, and I quickly lower myself down until the edge of the water once again covers all of me but my head. I listen intently, but all I hear is the pounding of my heart and my shallow breathing.
I crawl from the hot tub and quickly wrap my body then shuffle to the bathroom adjoining my room. My eyes continuously roam the house in search of what could have caused the sound, but I don’t allow myself to focus on it, or I’ll never be able to sleep. I shower quickly, thoughts of roaming the cavernous halls in search of Stephen toying with my mind. It would be my luck he came home after seeing my text and found me pleasuring myself in his hot tub— exactly what I need to deal with tonight.
Part of me wants to see him tonight, while the other far more practical side wants to hide from him. My emotions can’t be trusted with him tonight; the sense of safety I feel with him around and the continued neediness between my legs is the perfect recipe for mistake. Not letting that singular comfort control my decisions is a task I don’t think I can withstand.
When I finally pull back the covers on the bed and climb in, I’m exhausted, body and mind. So I do the only thing that I can – sulk into a restless sleep.
Not a single night has passed since I last saw Niko that I don’t dream about him. My head is on a constant film-roll playing out the short time I spent with him. I fall asleep with his image embedded on the backs of my eyelids and I always wake gasping for breath, yearning for him.
Tonight I fall asleep seeing his face cast in dark, sad shadows – my own mood reflected in his image. Tonight, more so than ever, I toss and turn while watching the same scene from the photo shoot with Niko in the starring role. His body wraps tightly around a blonde female as she wriggles and writhes in her enjoyment. In my mind I know I’m dreaming, I know I’m no longer perched outside his house, peering into his private life. I would never go back to that person; I’m working too hard to leave her behind, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the images to fade. Struggling, I tell myself to wake and leave the torment behind, but peace does not come at my own will.
I’m slowly pulled to consciousness by a soothing touch running along my cheek down to my collarbone. It stops just before breaking the barrier of the cami I wore to bed then trails back to my cheek. I don’t open my eyes; instead, I relish in the touch while I can.
“So beautiful,” Stephen whispers as his airy breath rushes over my skin.
My body shivers slightly with the chill trailing after his touch, and in response, his arm wraps around and tugs me closer. His short whiskers gently poke the flesh of my shoulder, and the thumping of his heart beats against my back. Before long, my breathing matches his, the subtle movements mingling together in a tranquil dance lulling me into a deep sleep. Just before my conscious falls away, the unmistakable murmur of an “I love you” assaults my ears.
Chapter 2
After last night, I can’t stop thinking about Stephen and what his feelings for me might be, which forces my mind to focus on my own feelings – or lack thereof. I’ve been justifying living at his house on my own selfish terms, but now I feel as though my presence has done nothing but lead him on. I care for him, I always have and suspect I always will, but I don’t know if I’m ready for where he may want this relationship to go. I know my heart isn’t ready. I’ve been letting the comfort he provides over shadow my bette
r judgment, and losing Stephen all together because of my greediness isn’t something I’m willing to let happen.
I agreed days ago to have breakfast with Brock because he needed to speak with me, so no matter what the current battle is playing out in my head I have to push it to the back burner for now. I’ve been avoiding him, just like I’ve been avoiding everyone else. We’ve only spoken a few times since Niko’s confession in his kitchen, and even though he wasn’t physically present for all of it I know he heard every word. I would have listened from outside the room to his heated discussion, so I’d expect nothing less of my brother. It’s not nosey, spiteful spying, it’s more an instinct in sibling protection.
Mozart is lilting through the whole-house sound system when I enter Brock’s house, making me smile. My brother is the only single man I know that would willingly listen to Mozart while cooking me breakfast. My smile is interrupted by the sound of angry voices.
“She will not. You act like you don’t know her at all.” A man’s voice says, but I have trouble recognizing whom it belongs to as Mozart hits an upbeat stanza at that exact moment.
I take a few more steps and lean my ear toward the kitchen, hoping for more.
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll do it on my own time, I don’t need you trying to decide everything,” Brock says in a calm, yet stern, voice.
“Fuck you Brock, and the straight horse you rode in on.”
My mind finally recognizes the voice just as a body rounds the corner and smacks into me. I look up into frantic eyes belonging to Paul. He pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. I can see the wheels turning in his head, fighting to come up with an explanation.
“Ummmm…” he says, hoping to draw out his time.
I shake my head, “Nope, I don’t even care right now,” I tell him, ducking out of his grasp and skirting around him
“Brook,” he calls after me. “We were—”
I hold up my hand to cut him off, “Don’t want to know. I have my own secrets right now; we’ll discuss them all when it’s time. Okay?”
He face is grim, but he obliges with an agreeable, “Okay.”
I pause at the entry to the kitchen, waiting for enough time to pass between Paul’s exit and my entrance. I’m not ready to deal with whatever is going on between them. I trust them both and know if it was anything they needed my help on they would ask; otherwise, I don’t have the emotional capacity to focus on what’s not my business…not yet anyway. Eventually I will become curious enough to want details, but for now – while I’m hiding out at Stephen’s – I’ll let them keep their own secrets while I keep mine.
Finally, I enter the room and see Brock leaning over the cabinet near the stove. His head is buried in his hands and his entire form looks defeated. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever seen my brother like this, and it stops me in my tracks. Several seconds pass while I’m frozen and he continues sullenly staring at the counter. The buzzer on the oven dings and temporarily pulls him from his misery. He turns toward the oven, his back to me, and removes a casserole dish, his eyes never connecting with me.
“Hey,” I call to him, not acknowledging his sullen mood, and further cementing we won’t have to discuss what happened between him and Paul as I arrived. He’s free to keep his secrets, and I’m free to keep my own.
His gaze lifts to me and a fake, automatic smile touches his lips.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in,” he says as he sets the dish on a trivet and takes two plates from the cabinet.
“That’s okay,” I tell him with a smile as I take a plate from him and hungrily look over what he has prepared.
Time passes slowly as I eat the egg and cheese frittata while Brock pushes it around his plate. His eyebrows are furrowed and every few minutes he mumbles something to himself. Every inch of my body wants me to ignore his obviously sad state, but I’m not sure I can continue.
I finally break the silence, “I’m trying really hard to mind my own business, but you are making it very difficult. Your mind is obviously somewhere else right now.”
His head snaps up and his eyes move over me like he’s forgotten I was even here.
He groans and scrubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, my mind is somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” I say humorously, not dare mentioning I’d seen Paul here, especially now.
“I wanted us to spend some time together, I didn’t mean to ruin it.” Sadness falls over his face again but nothing close to what had previously been there. Whatever is bothering him is much bigger than I’d originally thought.
“You know I love you, right? No matter what mistakes either of us make, that won’t change.” I don’t know why I feel the need to tell him this, I just know with everything happening in our lives, it needs to be said, just in case either of us has forgotten it.
“I know, and I feel the same way,” he says as he scoops our plates up and carries them to the sink. “Let’s go outside, I have something I need to tell you.”
I follow him through the large French doors onto the covered porch. He motions for me to sit next to him and takes my hands in his.
“Brook, I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you…I wasn’t sure how, or when to…” he stammers as his eyes search the scenery behind me, frantically hoping to avoid my gaze.
“Well, whatever it is, just say it already.” I laugh at his nervousness and pat his hand before pulling mine away and leaning back in my chair, my face aimed toward the sky to soak up the sunshine I haven’t seen much in the past month.
He remains quiet for so long I finally peek at him to find his eyes trained on me.
“I have a meeting with Niko today,” he blurts out as soon as he notices my attention on him. His face is a mix of shock and relief, but I get the distinct feeling the news about Niko isn’t what he was building up to saying; instead, it’s a last minute cover for the actual news he’s too nervous to share.
“About his screenplay?” I ask watching his face for clues.
He sighs out a long breath, “Yes, the screenplay he wrote. I met with him initially, before all of this, and we’d already sent out information and recently received a few interested responses.”
His eyes nervously search my face as intently as I search his, making our encounter feel ridiculous. We’re brother and sister, not rival spies intent on learning each other’s secrets.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to explain it to me. There’s no reason you shouldn’t work with Niko. I’m still not sure how I feel about everything that happened, but no matter what, we’re both at fault for what happened. His actions hurt me, but I was the cause of them from the beginning.”
“Are you sure?” he asks cautiously.
“I’m positive,” I tell him just as guarded and stand to make my escape. “I have to go to InTune today, so I better go.”
He stands and pulls me into a hug, smiling as I go back into the house and make my way out the front.
Before I even have the front door closed behind me I notice the male figure leaning against the hood of my car. Apparently, speaking of the devil truly does make him appear. And shit he looks good. Dark jeans, plain white t-shirt, and his hair has grown longer on top with the rough whiskers I always loved covering his jawline.
“Brook,” Niko says as way of his first greeting to me since he admitted to having a part in why I got arrested.
Opting not to speak, I dip my head in acknowledgment. Even if I wanted to speak, the lump in my throat is so large I don’t think I could force a single word past it.
I walk a large path around him, making sure I’m out of arms reach so I don’t get pulled in. I’m aimed for the driver’s side door, but he moves to block me from opening it.
“Can we talk?” he asks in a hushed tone as his hands reach toward me.
I retreat two steps for my own sake, afraid to be that close to him. I shake my head and make sure my eyes don’t connect with his.
“We need to talk,” he insists. �
�I need to explain, and you at least owe me that.”
The second part of his statement comes out direct and harsh, leaving my heart to hammer away in my chest. The full force of his words causes me to flinch as though they leapt from his mouth and slapped me across the face.
“I’m not ready,” I manage to squeak out.
“You need to get ready. I’ve given you time. I’ve left you alone, but if you expect me to just let you completely disappear then you are wrong…and you don’t know me very well.”
“Oh, I know you,” I snap, my eyes still directed toward the ground.
“So you’ve decided then?”
My eyes finally move to his, my brow furrowing in confusion.
“Stephen. You’ve chosen.” He says it as a statement even though his declaration is wrong.
“No. Stephen is my friend. He’s there for me when I need him, I trust him…I needed a friend.” I bite out the last words, hoping their barbs tear at the solid façade he is displaying.
He doesn’t speak, but a barely noticeable change occurs, his shoulders drop and his stance weakens. When he does finally speak, his voice sounds thick and solemn.
“Then what do you need? What more can I do if you won’t let me talk to you and explain?”
I stop the anxious thoughts barreling through my mind and look at him. At every inch of him: his rounded shoulders, his arms hanging aimlessly by his side, and the tightness in his face. Nothing about his current presence is normal for Niko.
Finally, his eyes move up to connect with mine, and they look vacant, like the luster in them died long ago. My heart seizes and my stomach plummets. In his eyes I finally see a tangible reflection of what I feel like on the inside.
“Niko,” Brock calls. “C’mon, I’m waiting for you.”
Neither of us turns to acknowledge my brother’s words, our eyes remain locked until cold chills rush up my spine, and I finally tear my gaze from him. Nausea plants in my stomach and threatens to spill my breakfast at Niko’s feet, but before that occurs, he turns and walks into the house, leaving me staring at the door he disappeared through.