Fire In The Water

by Janice Ross

  But then, did she?

  Tons of mixed emotions– anger, hurt, frustration, hopelessness– rode throughout my limbs. I was surprised I could walk. And then I got a sudden urge to turn into the building. I wanted to see her, to look into her wicked stare. This was actually a battle for my right to regain what she had snatched away. And I did.

  I marched right through the lobby.

  The building manager at the desk wasn't paying attention when he let me slide by, so I headed straight for the elevator and to her. I wanted that sad-ass bastard to be there with her as well. Yeah, this time, I wouldn't let him go. I wouldn't allow her to be the one to turn things around on me. Hell no!

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  It felt so awesome to pound on her door. The noise bounced from the ceiling to walls, only to overtake me. I ran hot, then cooled down.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  "Maggie!" Screw the noise. My voice carried through the empty hallway, slapping back at my ears. The door was a tiny inconvenience while I was a demigod. "Maggie!"

  "Rhys?" Maggie opened the door about a cool minute later, peering from behind. "What are you doing here?"

  What the hell was I supposed to say? I didn't know myself. It pained me to see her standing there, tasty pink lips, suspicious green eyes, and that touch me in the morning glow I'd gotten used to. One of those pink, thigh high cotton shirts clung onto her body. Without thinking beyond that moment, I reached around and pulled her into me.

  Maggie froze for no more than a quarter of a second before my mouth touched hers.

  "Rhys... I'm sorrrrryyy…"

  The apology, the words didn't mean shit to me. My objective was in letting go. All the bull had stripped away my soul. I couldn't give a damn if she was sorry or not. My mission was in what she had taken from me. So even though she kept spewing apologies between our hunger, I didn't let the words affect me.

  I kicked the door shut, reached for her collar and tore the top in half. Her body was perfect as I ran my hands across perky breasts, down into white lace panties. She was the perfect, all American girl. One that should have been my trophy wife, but she'd ruined my future.

  "Get on your knees," I demanded, breathing heavily.

  She nodded, then placed her hands on my chest even though I still hadn't taken off any clothes yet. I don't think I was capable of relaxing there any longer. With Maggie's palm lingering against the left side of my chest, her stare bore into me. You'd think she was hurt, that her world had been flipped over. You would've sworn she'd caught some girl taking me in or me dishing out my all to some chick from out of nowhere. That was the type of twisted shit people with narcissistic personalities expected, to fit you into their own screwed up worlds.

  "I loved you," she whispered, only making this that much worse.

  What the hell was love, and coming from her mouth too? Correction, loved was right.

  Briefly, I felt nothing. Not one damn defining emotion. No more anger. No more frustration. No more hurt. But my body, I needed to feel something. My feet were planted in the foyer–I wasn't going any further. I slid my hands up to the back of her neck, grabbing on her bronze hair. After closing my eyes, I lowered her to her knees. She didn't stop or pull back. I was glad because if she had looked into my gaze, I wouldn't have been able to hide my rising pain. It was the only emotion to penetrate the numbness and it began pouring down my face. This way, I felt like the man I should've been, even with tears escaping my soul.

  That was the last day I touched Maggie, or got any type of pleasure from her. For once, I screwed over someone else and felt damn good in doing so.

  ~

  I left within the hour, emotionless and detached. Maggie’s cries fell flat; they meant nothing. Out on the streets, I retraced my steps to where I’d began my race. The stoplights had no dominion over me. Cars, horns and any distractions were meant for everyone else. I obeyed my own rules, making them as I went along. When I got back, I stood directly across from the building in the shadows until her return.

  "Hey, you're Sarah, right?"

  "Yeah. How can I help you?" She glanced at me with a knowing glare, like I was a secret she was figuring out. Her lips were glossy and welcoming. This didn't help to lessen the blow. I knew I shouldn't have been there, getting ready to confront the chick that was in the middle of my parents’ marriage. But how could I sit by and not?

  "I'm Rhys, Rupert's son." I dipped down, searching out her pupils for any indication that she was sorry, or felt some sort of remorse for getting caught. Something...anything that would allow me to feel bad for approaching my father's mistress, who had to be clueless.

  Right?

  "Does he know you're here?" She quickly turned around, seeking out a distraction. Her fingers found way into her golden hair while she twirled and tugged. "I'm not into drama–"

  "What the hell do you mean 'not into drama'? You're screwing a married man. You even have kids with someone else's husband. But you're not into drama?"

  "Rhys, I don't owe you any explanations. I need you to leave…now." She spun about, clumsily placing one foot over the other.

  "Then maybe you owe my mother one." I refused to pull back, but instead found every chance to be heard and seen. Sarah needed to be aware of the lines she'd crossed. "You don't get to jump in and out of lives, ruin others–"

  "She’s better, isn’t she?" The question was odd, and resembled a statement as she tossed the darts in hopes of connecting.

  "Anyone that tries to commit suicide doesn’t automatically get better. Who the hell do you think you are to even comment on her? You’re a whore!" My defenses shot all the way up. Sarah spoke to me like I was a child. Hell, her child. Yet from the way she kept watching beyond me, there was more to this.

  I eased her closer to the building since our surrounding was so public. Her elbow fit in the palm of my tight hand. Dammit, she was small enough to shatter, but that wasn't my style. I imagined the wild look of a madman as it reflected in her eyes. The sun beat down on us, the gray marble building throwing back a glare.

  "Please, Rhys. I can't do this now." Tears lingered while her lips trembled. Before I knew it, her back faced me as she prepared to take off into the wall.

  I grabbed at her arm, literally yanking with urgency. Her body swayed out of control. Concerned individuals came near. As I looked from my left to right, they took the hint to stay clear. I didn't come down here to make an ass out of myself for no reason.

  "Let your parents deal with their own issues. I’ve got my own problems."

  "No! I don't care what you've got going on–"

  "Guy, who the hell are you?" The question burst out of nowhere. I barely had enough time to face him on my own before we came face to face. He had me by about two inches. His arm gripped at my throat so quickly that I nearly missed the opportunity to react.

  I shoved at him, but got minimal movement. From the corner of my eyes, I noted Sarah's wide-eyed stare. Her mouth hung open as she attempted to wipe at her cheeks with trembling fingers.

  "No Lars," she cried. "Leave him alone."

  When he shifted to her, I caught this "Lars" off-guard with a sideway shove. Just that easily, he let up.

  But then he stormed over to her, taking wide strides. She cowered, though it didn't seem like she was scared, only nervous. I had an urge to throw a punch his way, yet something made me wait. I blew out a mouthful of air, glanced around at the people moving in and through the streets, and then set one foot in front of the other.

  "I screwed up again," Sarah started, then the words turned into a long string of babbling. She fell into Lars' hold, though it was a hell of an awkward scene. His embrace seemed forced, with bent elbows and palms pressed at her upper arms. He even swayed to study my glare. I held the look, unafraid of the outcome. I approached Sarah, not as a bully. I sought answers. My world crumbled before me. This was my way of aligning situations, forming a pathway for hope.

  Whatever was going on, I couldn't be entirely sure
my questions would get answered. Not right then, anyway. So I turned to leave.

  "Rhys ..." Sarah's timid cries did nothing to deter focus. Although this was something I badly wanted resolved, I felt it slipping out of my control. Then again, if only there was someone to fill this emptiness now attaching itself to my soul. In this massive world, I couldn't help but wonder if there would be some sort of satisfaction for me.

  XV.

  Chanel

  ~

  Late one Saturday night, about a month later, my friends talked me into going out on some type of yacht party. No, Chantele wasn't a part of the crew this time. We had one goal on our minds: have fun. I threw on a fluorescent blue, long-sleeved mini dress with flats and an oversized leather clutch purse. Searching out a printed coverup, my outfit was simple and complete.

  "I need a drink first thing," one of the girls sang, sticking one finger into the air.

  "Forget the drinks, Renee, the guys better be hot," Bianca countered.

  Neither of them were as severe as Mallory Winters, my best friend for life. "Less talk, more action. While you two are chatting about absolutely nothing, we're missing out on the fun." Mal stood up, shoving the chair aside with the back of her legs. "And you better not dip out on me, Chanel." She pointed silver painted nails with diamond tips at me.

  "I said I was in," I countered, making sure to roll my eyes the entire way into my skull.

  "You better be all in until the last beat, the last drink, and the damn fat lady finishes." She side-stepped. "Your eyes are gonna stay that way. Keep rolling them like that."

  "Keep bullying me," I threatened, not that it would make a difference.

  "I will. You know what you signed up for in a friendship with me." She sparkled like New Year's Eve.

  "Are you serious, Mal?" I knew she was, so obviously my rhetorical question went unanswered. "Let's get this over with."

  "Don't you need to check in with Zachary first?" Renee teased, even though her eyebrows arched sharply, and I didn't miss the fake smile which barely reached her cheeks. "He might feel some type of way."

  "Like how, Renee?" I stopped close enough to block her path. She avoided making eye contact for several seconds.

  "I'm just saying, Chanel. You two have been together longer than anybody else. I only thought it was serious and all. Don't you ..." I blocked out her pathetic ramblings.

  My Zach was anything but jealous. He had no reason to be, neither did I. With the exception of Mallory, Renee and Bianca were a large portion of those who'd been peering at us for ages, waiting for the end to our perfect relationship.

  After listening to her bullshit for another five seconds, I threw up my hand to curb her sad ass observations. "Don't be a hater," I warned on the way out of the door ahead of them. One foot placed in front of the other, I was determined to actually enjoy the night, on an innocent note of course. These two felt like they were only tagging along to feed off of Mal's popularity. She had recently gotten an internship at Vibe, which we were more than certain would lead to a full-time gig. Over the years, she'd been labeled a snob and stuck up, now she had miraculously become "friend." I rolled my eyes in plain sight, lingering long enough to give the exaggerated view to all who saw.

  "Be-have." Mal giggled between the syllables.

  "You might want to lose the entourage next time." It was one thing to entertain folks out in public, but a whole different thing to invite them into your domain. I was a split second away from mentioning how they'd maneuvered their scrawny asses into her parents’ home. Mal had allowed it since they weren't home, and these two were like groupies. "If you weren't my girl, I swear." A smile swept across my lips as I tried not to make it obvious.

  "I am, so suck it up and keep it moving." Mal bypassed the two. They were desperate enough to not comment further, though their fake behinds kept frowning, marking up their faces.

  Mal took the wheel of her red Jeep, I relaxed in the passenger seat to the front, and the two hustled into the back. I would've been perfectly fine staying home to be cradled in my window nook. The sky was darker than usual, perhaps a shade of midnight black. The moon and stars smiled down on us. Everyone calmed, possibly anticipating the night ahead. The only noise trailed from the DJ chatting it up. As part of an unspoken rule, the person controlling the steering wheel maintained full control. Changing the station to something lighter, Mal thumbed on the wheel and hummed to Delilah’s heartwarming dedication to a caller’s long lost lover. She was the radio host for every infliction from heartache to anniversaries. She's fed listeners with whatever was needed, at the most perfect times. Now, the lyrics she chose fed my soul and belief in true love.

  The private event was hosted at Chelsea Piers, and included an open bar which instantly led to me being the designated driver home. I wasn't one to get drunk either way. I set my mind on living in the moment without all of the added crap.

  The scene was like an episode of Sex & the City with pretentious New Yorkers strolling around with cute little drinks in even fancier glasses, in conversations with their "lovers."

  "Dance with me," Mal belted above the music, which vibrated beneath our feet via large speakers. The sound filtered across the water, up and down the harbor.

  Leaning forward until my lips rested at the edge of her lobe, I stated, "No. Way. I'm not that girl." No one else was dancing. Drinking, maybe. Laughing and chatting it up, yeah. But there wasn't even a dance floor, so for Mal to try to make me get loose that way...uh uh, not happening.

  She twisted away while stepping lightly. Revealing a sick level of crazy, Mal drew all eyes from around the deck to rest on her. She went about clearing a path by wiggling her body here and there. This was so the norm when it came to Mallory. Sometimes I wondered if the term "life of the party" was specifically created for her. Other females wearing minis and maxis in colorful designs initially began pointing as they giggled with one another. On the other hand, guys began swarming Mal. Like I said, she knew how to be the life of the party.

  When I noticed Renee and Bianca squeezing through the crowds on the newly formed dance floor, I dipped my head to squeeze away from the excitement.

  As the night progressed, I ended up strolling through the entire vessel from top to bottom. Once inside of the main cabin, cream leather sofas lined the walls. A kaleidoscope of colors flashed around the room from the ceiling when the crowds moved inside. I squeezed from amongst them. No one really paid much attention to my movements because they were too caught up in themselves to notice. Besides, I only ventured into the quieter regions. By the time we returned to the marina, everyone was prepared to go back out on another.

  "Come on, Chanel. You're not getting out of this."

  "Mal, I'll be here waiting–"

  "Not happening. The four of us came out to have fun, and I'm sure as hell not leaving my bestie behind."

  "Really? You didn't notice I was gone for most of the time. You guys have fun, and be careful. I don't want to have to kick someone's ass for hurting you or swim out into the harbor to save you."

  She laughed before throwing her arms around my neck for an exaggerated hug. "I love you too, boo."

  I watched the new yacht, a beige color with gold trimmings, maneuver around a couple others. The newest was lit up with racing lights to match the vibration of the beats. For a second, I could've almost heard my bestie screaming by way of the breeze.

  The marina had half a dozen other yachts docked. Further back on land, along the path, a few couples walked along the water. The view offered one of the many reasons I loved New York. There was always something to do and always an experience to get lost in. With a dark, starry sky overhead, I'd nearly forgotten the time of year. Waves of breezes brushed along my legs and slapped at my face. I wrapped my cover up closer, tighter around my shoulders.

  The scene was serene. Breathtaking. The vessels swayed beneath the decorative lights. Even the moon reflected into the water. Lovers were meant to thrive off of this sort of thing. A teard
rop rolled down one side of my face as Zachary came to mind. I missed him with each passing day.

  "Chanel?" The voice was familiar, but I wasn’t prepared for Rhys when I spun close to the edge of the dock. The last person I expected to see came to life in what seemed like a vision set in the moonlight. God, I'd forgotten how easily my heart sped up, only to pause when the air teased me with his essence. While inhaling, my lids dipped shut and I allowed the memories to escape.

  Before long, my legs gave way. I visualized myself crashing into the rippled water. Funny thing about it, I didn’t fight the urge to fall. An arm captured my waist to pull me back. In doing so, we crashed onto the concrete ground. Actually, he did. He also cushioned my fall.

  A throbbing flowed from the left side of his chest to the side of my face, and I prayed to God that he wasn’t able to hear the wild beating of my own heart. His touch sent electricity over every fiber of me, and the bold scent I recognized as Creed Aventus swarmed around us. My eyes shut because I simply couldn’t let him see the effect he was having on me.

  "Are you okay?"

  Am I?

  This stranger, who’d just saved my life, needed to know if I was okay. This stranger, who'd helped me out only a few weeks ago, reappeared to save me again. His arms captured me at my sides. His air became my own. His strength transferred to my weakened body. I didn’t know a damn thing about him, other than the fact that his existence suddenly gave me life.

  So, was I okay?

  "N-No." I gasped on the very air amongst us. A large hand palmed the back of my head as he began to massage my scalp, going lower to my shoulders and spine.

  "Are you guys gonna be all right?" A voice in the distance crashed our moment.

  "I’m making sure she’s all right," Rhys said, though he was the reason for my instability.

  "I can have them turn up the lights. We never really have anyone this far up so late." The worker’s footsteps drew near. He stepped, paused, and stepped again. "Is she drunk?"