No Final Destination (Happy Endings Resort Series Book 17)

by Penny Harmon

  “I actually need to talk to you about something before we do this.” Nerves strike me and I figure now is as good of a time as any. She giggles and it takes me down a peg or two. “And just what are you laughing about?” I fake pout.

  “I just think it’s cute how you assume that anything is going to happen between us today,” She quips. Ah, there’s the smart-ass I’ve come to know and love.

  “Well, I just thought you damn near begging me was an indication, “I wink.

  She reaches up to playfully smack my arm but I catch her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to kiss. Lifting myself up first and gently pulling her with me, I find my way to the couch and take a seat. Probably best that we get out of our compromising place for this conversation. She just continues to laugh.

  “This is a serious moment Ari.” I scowl at her but she knows I can never actually be serious. She motions to her lips in a turning the key fashion, faking throwing it away. “Thank you,” I nod. “Now back to what I wanted to talk to you about. So, as you know…I’ve been subtly mentioning going to school.”

  “Yeah at the community college, right? I hear they have some amazing professors there. I thought about potentially taking a few classes with you.” She responds.

  “Well actually…I got accepted into art school.”

  “Wow,” she murmurs, but her smile grows. “That’s amazing! I am so happy for you Cohen!” She looks genuinely happy but there is just a hint of sadness I see lurking.

  “It’s a couple hours away…so I just thought…maybe you’d like to come with me? With your talent, you can find work anywhere.” My usual confident self is fading and someone different stands in his place. For the first time in a long while, I’m unsure of myself. Nerves taking over. Her smile fades and she looks like she is thinking extra hard about what I’ve just asked her.

  “Uhm…really?” She asks quietly. Her eyes are downcast and she’s looking at her hands in her lap.

  “Yes. I know it’s sudden. I don’t want to push you because I know that it won’t be an easy transition for you, but I need you with me. “

  I grab her chin, tilt it up until her eyes meet mine. I give her some added reassurance with one of my best smiles. I know long distance relationships don’t typically work but I’ll always be her friend. The smile she gives me back melts my heart in a way I haven't felt in a long time. I think there is something said about someone who saves all of her smiles for me.

  “When do we leave?” she asks and the world stops turning. My excitement skyrockets.

  “Really?” I probably sound like a damn fool.

  “Are you changing your mind already?” Her voice hints at a giggle.

  “Never.” In this moment, I mean it. She leans over, kisses me and all the awkwardness dissipates. Instead of more words, I decide to show her my feelings through music. I turn on You and Me by Lifehouse using my cell phone, sitting it on the couch between us after. Grabbing her hand, I stand and pull her gently with me. Wrapping her in my arms, I slowly begin to dance. Spinning us around like we are dancing in a great hall. Her head on my chest, hopefully feeling how fast my heart beats of her and everything is perfect.

  When the song comes to an end and fades into another one, she steps away and picks up my cell phone. Saying nothing she walks away, into a hallway and leading us into the darkness. Following her isn’t even a second thought in my mind, I do so aimlessly. When we reach what I can only assume is her bedroom, with its black walls and red accents, she abandons the phone in an armchair that sits against the wall closest to the door. Without turning around, me just a small reach away behind her, she pulls her shirt from over her head and leaves it on the floor. Next, comes her bra and then her bottoms. Completely still, I stand. Afraid that if I even breathe, this dream will be gone and I’ll wake up. She looks over her shoulder at me, hair haloed around her face, so beautiful. The darkness I’ve always found in her eyes is gone and in its place, is something I never thought I’d see from her, innocence.

  Willing my feet to move in her direction and with a deep breath I arrive. I easily taking her into my arms like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Everything about it feels natural. She instantly gasps at my invasion of her space. The closer I get, the more I begin to notice all the out-of-place markings on her. Buried within her intricate tattoo designs but still visible. When I begin to touch her raised skin, she grabs my hand to halt my movement.

  “Please go slow.”

  She prods me. I didn’t intend on doing anything but that. I want to savor every bit of this moment. I nod and move my hands to the back of her head, wrapping my fingers around her hair and grasping. My feet move, meanwhile my brain shuts off, until her legs hit the bed and she falls on top of it. Letting go of her, only to lift my shirt above my head and remove my jeans. Desperation exudes from her eyes, she lifts her hips from the bed and grabs her panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side. My entire body feels like it's on fire. Without saying a word, I point to the pillows on the far end of her bed. She gets the message instantly and scoots her body up until her head is resting on them. I crawl onto the bed after her. Finding her skin beneath my palm, I lightly caress down the length of her torso. She closes her eyes tensely. Lifting my hand to her cheek, I cup it in my hand. Leaning down I gently kiss her.

  “Look at me,” I whisper against her lips. She opens her eyes, sighing. “I need to see you let go.” A hint of a smile graces her lips and that’s all I need as permission to keep exploring her.

  Her body is truly a work of art. I'm in awe with the beautiful tattoos across every inch of the chest, angry lines visible underneath. Jagged edged reminders of what a shitty life she had to overcome. Visible proof of why loving her was easy in the same way she was strong. Starting small, I lean down and kiss a circle shaped scar right on her collarbone.

  “Cigarette burn for being worthless.” I cringe at the truth in her words. They hurt me but not any more than they hurt her. No words seem fitting so I move to the next scar. A thin line transcends across her chest, about five inches in length. I pepper kisses down it, looking into her eyes the entire time. A small tear makes its way down her cheek but her face remains impassive.

  “Broken glass for being lazy.” Something urges me to continue even though I’m shattering before her eyes. I avoid several similar looking scars until I find the meanest one of all on her abdomen. Tons of tiny lines, not directly touching but all in the same area, creating mass chaos. I gently kiss every inch of her skin there.

  “Self-inflicted to feel anything other than what I was.” When my eyes reach hers, she looks ashamed. I don’t want her to feel that way.

  “I can’t even imagine dealing with all the pain that you went through. There is no judgment from me on how you chose to escape your own thoughts. I’m just glad you didn’t hurt yourself so badly that you’re no longer here with us, with me. Please promise me that if you get into that place again, you’ll reach for me. I won’t let you fall.”

  “I’ve thought about it. But I couldn’t let the demons win. So, I stopped hurting myself and instead began drawing on myself instead. That’s what led me to my career as a tattoo artist. I truly believe that there is beauty in the breaking. I just had to let myself see it. I promise. I truly trust you, Cohen. I haven’t been able to say that in a long time. Thank you.”

  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t help when it was all happening.”

  Now I’m the one feeling ashamed. I was always so caught up with Brynn that I never took the time to truly see Ariana. Not that she would have let me in at that time but I still could have tried.

  “Nobody knew, Cohen. This is not your fault. The monsters hid away safely under my bed and nobody was none the wiser. They knew how to hurt me and get away with it. It was Brynn or me. There has never been an easier choice made in my life. But I am free from them now, free from her. Can we just focus on the here and now?” she pleads and I give in instantly. I know that I’m being ridiculous and n
eedy. These traits that are so unlike me. She’s making me a pussy. A happy pussy though, so fuck it.

  I don’t stop kissing her until I’ve explored every inch of her skin. Tracing her tattoo designs with my fingertip until she’s shaking with need underneath my touch. I kiss the inside of her thigh to tease her. She grabs my hair and pulls me to her center. It doesn’t take long before she is shuddering and letting go. At this point, a condom is long forgotten. Time is blurring, our bodies are melting. I find myself inside of her, slowly moving to work my way in. She tenses, so I find her lips with mine and stop moving. I just want to make sure she is okay. She pulls away, nods her head and grips my shoulders as hard as she can. Her nails digging into my skin only incites my passion more. Slamming into her causes both of us to gasp out loud. I brush her hair from her face and intertwine it around my fingertips while sliding back out only to slam back in again. When she winces in pain, I find myself stopping for a second time. I know this probably hurts her worse than just continuing but my conscience won’t let me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m concerned. I don’t know a lot about her sexual background. This isn’t something we’ve really talked about before. Our conversations are almost always intellectual, usually straying from anything personal. I never saw this coming.

  “Better than okay. It just hurts a little. This is my first real-time.”

  I’m temporarily confused by her words, but only for a moment, and then immediately saddened. It pains me to think of those who have hurt her in the past. My blood begins to boil and I want to hurt them all. I know my anger won’t help in this situation so I let it dissipate and stay focused on her.

  “I want you to forget every other time before me, can you do that?”

  As the words leave my mouth, I find myself slowly moving inside of her, building momentum. I grip the back of her neck, forcing her to look in my eyes. Distracting her seems to work and slowly her pitiful cries drawl out into moans of ecstasy.

  “I am your first. Your only.” My words seem to relax her and she’s letting me in more. I finally feel like I’m gaining some control here and my true self is beginning to shine through. There’s a small part of me that prefers to dominate. I try to reel it in when I think she can’t handle it. It’s messed up that I even think that way, I know she’s strong but I can’t help it.

  “Yes. My. Only.” She breathes the words through each moan.

  I’m getting closer to my release; my hands make their way to her face. Cupping her chin, I bring her mouth to mine. My other hand finds its way below and I stroke her until she falls apart again. Shortly after I let go. I get up and go to grab a washcloth. She has a bathroom en-suite so it isn’t difficult to find. I run it underneath the faucet, letting it get warm before shutting it off. Returning to the bedroom, she’s lying where I left her, eyes closed and bliss upon her angelic face.

  “I love you.” I murmur to the room. She doesn’t respond but the silence is okay with me. I know in my heart that our feelings for each other are steadily growing.

  I find my way to her and clean her gently. Afterward, returning the washcloth to a hamper in the bathroom. We spend the rest of the day talking, ordering food in and lounging in bed. In between resting, I make sure to show her my love repeatedly.

  It was late when my phone began to ring, I’m not even sure of the time. Ari is sleeping soundly next to me, she looks like an angel. I quickly grab the phone and answer to avoid waking her. A voice I don’t recognize on the other end tells me that I need to get to Smith Street as soon as possible, that there has been an accident. The panic in the man’s voice on the other end tells me something is seriously wrong. He is slurring heavily and my focus only catches one word. Brynn. I haven’t heard a word from Brynn in almost a year. I hear things around the town, we live in a small-minded area. Even though we’ve been out of touch, I know everything about her still. From the last date she went on, if it can even be called that, I’m putting it nicely. To the type of drugs, she’s buying on the street. I’ve tried forgetting about her. Nothing that I say has been able to get through to her. The panic in the male voice on the other end tells me something is seriously wrong. I have no other choice but to go to her.

  Making a hasty decision, I slide out of bed without waking Ari, deciding not to tell her. I know their relationship has undying stress on it and truthfully, she’s been through enough. My need to protect her overshadows right and wrong. I throw my clothes on and sneak out the door before bringing the phone back to my ear. He was still talking, but now that I am safely away from Ari I can finish this conversation with his drunk ass and hopefully take care of this so I can get back to my girl as quickly as possible. Shockingly, I gleaned enough of the details of where she was from the inebriated caller. I reached my bike and started that way, wondering why he had called my phone. I guess she must have had me as the emergency contact in her phone or something. I hang up.

  I’m going faster on my bike than I ever have. My adrenaline has kicked in now and I’m truly afraid of what I’m going to find. Brynn has been dabbling with drugs for a while now. What started off as a party thing and led up into an addiction, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Any conversation about it was immediately shut down and then she would shut you out. It broke my heart but I couldn’t continue to try to help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Watching her die wasn’t an option for me either so I cut off contact. As I’m riding down the empty streets I’m questioning if that was the right decision. I seem to question myself a lot when it comes to her, I always have. It’s like she takes away my common sense.

  Eventually, I pull up outside of the house and quickly cut off my engine, leaving my bike on the curb. You can tell that a party took place here, the music is still playing but only barely audible from outside of the house. Trash and beer bottles are strewn across the unkempt lawn. I walk up the pathway, internally gasping at the condition of the dilapidated house before me. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the door and turned the knob without thinking to knock. It’s unlocked, not so surprising. The smells of vomit and decay reach my nostrils and I dry heave. My heart is beating roughly and I want nothing more than to rip it out and hide it before I see her.

  I can hear people crying, screaming and I realize that I’d rather be anywhere but here. I said I would do anything to protect her from all that this life has punished her with, but she wouldn’t allow me in. I walk up the stairs, pushing past the hordes of people who never truly cared about her but are suddenly acting as if they do. I couldn’t possibly imagine how traumatic this moment would be or the way it would mold my life so I pushed through regardless. Had I of known then what I do now, I probably would have run hard and fast. I yell for everyone to get the hell out of my way. They scurry, moving clumsily into the opposite direction.

  I see her body crumpled on the foreign bathroom floor, unconscious. Nothing about the girl I used to know belongs here. Her lips are blue and her face pale, she’s fading fast. I rush to her side and fall to my knees. My eyes barely notice the small movements in her chest. She’s breathing faintly, but breathing. I pull my phone out to do what none of these assholes thought to do and call the emergency services. I force myself to keep up all composure even though I want nothing more than to crumple into a ball next to her. Since the day she began using I’ve envisioned this moment in all my nightmares. Now that this moment is finally a reality, the semblance of hope I had clung to through the years has finally shattered, leaving me an empty shell in its wake. I put my phone on speaker and mindlessly take the commands I am being given. Within a few moments, her eyes flutter and I took it as a sign that I was doing the right thing. A small semblance of joy found its way into my system.

  When her eyes finally open to meet mine, they steal my breath. But not in the way that they used to. Her eyes were once as clear and blue as the ocean itself, but now they are red like the devil. Aptly so because this drug has stolen her soul the same way he wo
uld. The heroine had become her best fucking friend throughout the years. It took my place. I once believed that I’d follow her anywhere. But when the path veered off and hers led down self-destruction, I had no choice but to go my way. She wouldn’t allow me or anyone else to talk her down. The innocence she once encompassed was gone and the disease had taken over her body.

  “I’m sor…” She tries to apologize. Barely able to make out words.

  I place my hand gently on her face and shush her. She sighs and inhales as large of a breath as she can get. I want her to focus on breathing, instead of apologizing for something that she’s in no way sorry for. This drug lies to her and it lies to me. I’m still haunted by our memories.

  My heart is breaking every minute I sit on this cold floor, watching the death wash over her. The air surrounding me feels different. Everything feels all wrong. Noise from the party is suddenly drowned out by the sound of sirens. People she thought were there for her, are gone. I feel a loss of breath myself. I cling to her, willing her to stay strong enough until the ambulance arrives. We are so close. I struggle to meet her gaze, but when I do, a solitary tear falls down her cheek. It is instinct for me to wipe it away, the same way I always did when we were kids. Time stands still. It's like watching flames dance up your most prized possession and not being able to a damn thing about it. I just sit and watch my world burn.

  “I’m the one that should say sorry.” Tears will themselves from my eyes before I can stop the sobs that rack my chest. “I gave up on you.” She doesn’t speak. I can tell that she wants to but no words come. Her eyes speak volumes. Forgiveness is screaming from them. “I said I never would and I did.” The searing pain in my chest becomes unbearable.

  She slowly lifts her hand to meet mine on her face. I swallow hard. She squeezes and I’m met with memories of when we were kids, her small hand in mine. The Police and EMT’s begin to rush in, surrounding us. I feel like I’m being pulled away, in more ways than one.