by Janice Ross
"This type of heartbreak can't be fixed so easily." I shook my head and bit down at the sides of my lips. My walls were weak, and that scared me more than anything else in life. "Rhys," I begged into his face. He needed to hear about Zach even when I didn't want to talk about Zach. The words hung thick in my throat. I'd spent so much time being buried along with him that I had forgotten how to let go.
"We're not going anywhere. Dammit, you're gonna tell me about this bastard that ruined you for me!" Rhys' threat deepened when his hands held my arms. He squeezed me until it pained and then, just like that, he let go.
"Zach wasn't a bastard! He was supposed to be the guy I'd grow old with but he got killed trying to help people he didn't even know." I got up to run away from him, but it was almost as if he had prepared for that move. When his arm wrapped around my waist, I didn't fight. I was too weak as what seemed like an eternity of tears rushed out of me.
"Don't stop. Keep going. You need this. Shit, I need this." I felt his warmth almost collapse against me. There was so much more to this than what we were dancing around. Rhys held on like I was getting ready to run away from him, like I would never come back. His minty breath washed over me when I spun in to him, face on.
I went on to tell him about that day at the beach. He listened to me as if my words gave him life. The park was mostly dark by now, but with the tiny amount of streetlights, I saw enough of him. Rhys felt my pain. He understood.
"No one else tried to help. Those assholes stood back and watched him get swept out with the people he was trying to rescue." My words became murmurs. My cries became sobs. My shivers turned into convulsions.
"Aww baby..." Rhys loved on me with passion I'd never known. He caressed my words and tears with his kisses. I wasn’t sure how long this episode lasted, but Rhys didn't seem to let up until I fully let go of my burdens.
"I still picture his body when they finally found him. Everyone rushed around the kids, some were focused on the woman. They pitied Zach. The newspapers ran an article about a fallen hero." I paused to bite back a sob. "He wasn't a fallen hero. Zach sacrificed his life for someone that didn't want to live."
"What do you mean?"
"This woman tried to commit suicide and take her kids out with her. She killed Zach in the fight."
"Damn Chanel..."
"Damn is right. It almost seemed like he was destined to be there, destined to lose his life." By the time I emptied out much of what had been kept from those closest to me, I exhaled. Even the tears dried up. My words were finished, my emotions flat, and the air still. Nothing else meant anything, except suddenly being engrossed in the scent of him. I rested my head against his chest while his breathing synced with mine. And for a brief time, I was fooled into believing Rhys was more than a stranger.
"Can we walk?" I hopped up from his lap. I saw us, as if my inner self had burst out to hover in the air just to watch over Rhys and me. Deep down, I wasn't able to feel good about the scene, not when we were talking about Zach.
I wasn’t sure where Rhys' head was in all of this. Though, it helped that he remained calm.
XXXVII.
Rhys
~
The newspaper clippings fell from my fingers. I watched them drift to the ground. A full blast of powerful emotions set off inside of me, but I wouldn't be able to pull myself out of this so easily. I wanted to scream and cuss like hell. The veins along my temples throbbed, right to the very back of my neck.
"I'm sorry," I said, though I hadn't reached down for it. In her eyes, I was guilty of being careless with her memories. That damn memory, however, had quickly become my curse.
Her lips twitched as she stooped for the faded articles. She had it secure, like it was meant to keep her alive. Once retrieved, she gripped them close to her chest while adding about two feet of distance between us. I wanted her near so I could touch her when I wanted to, but the images...
"I didn't mean to drop your papers. Can I see them again?" I swallowed a lump. Those eyes could never be mistaken. I knew damn well who it was. The first glance was enough even though I needed to play it off. Shit, how the hell was I going to approach this?
This time she held it close enough for me to see, while pinching the paper at the tip. Her fingers trembled. My eyes burned. I exhaled the tension only to take on a greater level of stress. I'd already ruined what we were meant to have.
"Is something wrong?" Her voice creaked. When I raised my head, her eyes were red. Damn, I needed to touch feel and feel all of her. I wanted to be buried deep inside of her, to get lost. The problem with that, in spite of the fact that we weren't on that level yet, was that some other asshole hadn't caused her pain. I was the one.
"I need to go." Turning away, I refused to look at those innocent eyes of hers.
"I thought you were gonna stay–"
"I'll come back. We'll..." I left things there just as I stepped into the hallway and turned for the door. My insides dropped. I wanted to scream like hell because I could almost see her lips turn down. No, she didn't deserve added stress. And as far as I could tell, this shit was more explosive than I might’ve ever bargained for when she'd decided to open up to an asshole like me. Nothing like tearing up someone else’s life without trying to, especially when you didn’t mean to. And dammit, I never meant to hurt Chanel back then, before I even know that she existed.
Shit!
I hit the dark porch and just about jumped all the way down to the last bottom step. The sky opened up like someone had been waiting for me to come outside. A few drops had initially dripped onto my head, but when I turned up my face, rain spattered all of a sudden and out of nowhere. I couldn’t deny that I needed the cleansing. If I had grown up religious, I might’ve considered this to be so kind of baptism, but no. This was far from freeing for me. What I had tried to distance myself from had returned to for my attention. So I ran with no direction.
I continued faster and stomped harder on the ground. The night had a metallic scent, as if the rain was hanging right above me, and preparing to unleash the world upon my shoulder. By the time I came to the corner, cars were driving up and down the Boulevard. As much I didn’t want to stop, I did, only to flex my neck up. I gazed into the sky that now had a bitter gray swirl when it had been dark only moments earlier. The twirls represented my guilt, my own sorrowful past.
Once the light changed, I rushed across the street as cars prepared to turn. My heart competed against my footsteps, and both against my thoughts. For this race, I was bound to win and lose all the same. Part of me would break, the other parts would crumble. The winner…dammit, the winner would be the first to destroy me. Come to think of it, I’d destroyed myself when I’d taken matters into my own hands. The man I despised most in life had come to be the man that would shape who I became. My father’s problem had become mine. I’d allowed that tainted DNA to course my veins to the point of becoming him, and I’d caused the destruction of lives.
"Arghhh!" I halted on the sidewalk across from the park, overlooking rough waves. I was soaked through and through. Suddenly, tears began rushing from my eyes. I wasn’t one to cry. I was stronger than this, built to conquer, not to cave. But the inner torture was a great deal harder to bear. The tears wouldn’t stop. The pain refused to go away. I was forced to embrace my destructive path.
When I turned to walk across the street, I didn’t bother to check for cars. I heard them, but didn’t care. I needed to stand in front the walk like many when drawn to a fire. Death by cleansing, perhaps. My steps were wide and direct. I held onto the handle bars that separated land from the ocean. I toyed with the idea of jumping in, but wasn’t afraid of drowning. What terrified me more than anything was the spirits that might’ve been patiently awaiting my demise.
Yes, I might’ve never led them into the water but they were dead because of me.
Sarah, my father’s slut.
My little brother.
My little sister.
Chanel's Zach.
They were all dead because of me. That newspaper clipping was dated September nineteenth, one day after I’d last seen Sarah. Two days later, my father had disappeared, only to return a week later in a solemn mood. I never understood what had occurred. I’d even tried to get back in touch with Sarah. I’d called her number until it was no longer in service. I sought out everything that could possibly lead me to her, but she never turned up. And as faith would have, I came to end up in the very spot of their deaths. What kind of cruel universe was this? How could my creator force me to not only be brought back to answer for these deaths, especially after I’d made every attempt to become a different person? And to top things off, how could I fall for the girlfriend of the fallen hero who’d lost his life because of me? How was I ever to live with myself when the universe refused to let me forget my sins?
XXXVIII.
Chanel
~
I wouldn’t allow Rhys to leave this way. Something had robbed his focus. Sure, I could’ve let it go, though a voice within made me follow him. I watched him struggle to leave out and heard his war cry into the roaring rain. Not once did I consider not following. There was something between us. He was lost, perhaps carrying a pain too difficult to contain–like myself. I didn’t want Rhys to push me away. If I’d shared the pain of losing Zach with him, then I was certain he could do the same with whatever it was he felt so content in carrying. Even if he was not capable of letting it go, I would wait. I had to because I’d already started to open up to him. I’d make him understand now that he couldn’t push me away because, just like I was healing through him, he could now be fixed through me.
Since Mal’s car was still parked in the front, I grabbed her keys from the kitchen. I decided to offer him a ride, and put an end to this wishy-washy interaction. I drove near, following him from a short distance. The more I saw his struggle, the more I felt to be alongside him. While the rain pelted at my windshield, tears rushed down my cheeks. There was something about the way Rhys moved along as if he had a bundle pinned to his shoulders. And then he stopped to gaze up into the sky. I couldn’t breathe. By the time he ran across the street to stand in front of the water, I was prepared to take him into my arms. Being but a fragment of his size, I craved to secure him. With this need, I approached Rhys.
"Are you okay?" I was certain he couldn’t hear me. Laying my palms against his shoulders, I could imagine the full-on tattoo I’d regularly seen peeking out from his collar. I leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Rhys…"
He spun around. I reached for his face to draw him into me. I couldn’t see his expression, nor was I able to hear his words. And when I allowed my lids to lay shut during our intense embrace, I opened up my senses to breathe him in. I inhaled the metallic fragrance of the rain, coupled with Rhys’ fading cologne.
"I’m no good for you," he called into my drenched hair. His breath warmed my crown.
All I could do was toss my head from one side to the other. Since we’d been communicating on a one on one basis, this had been like a friggin yo-yo. No, I couldn’t go back to being without him. I didn’t want to accept his words. "No," I eased out. I shook wildly. "No," I cried out above the loud pitter-patter of rain.
"Damn Chanel, I’m not that guy. I’m not your…your Zach. I’m the son of a bitch that’s capable of k–" He stopped himself.
"Capable of what? Making me open up about losing one of the most important people in my life? Learning to care again about a guy?" I forced my entire body forward to press into him.
Between the tapping of the rain and Rhys' explosive heartbeat, I almost conditioned myself to remain in his arms. He squeezed only to relax his grip on my shoulders. He tugged me near only to extend his arms though not by much. Enough to rob me of his fire. I felt the burn of an inner madness.
"Chanel, I can't do this." He sniffed.
"Do what?" I hadn't yet stepped away, though when the reply was silence, I spun back around to glance up into his face. The rain had washed over him. He looked heavy and not just with the stress of life, but physically damaged. He was beaten, yet not bruised. Cut short, yet forced to remain upright.
Rhys leaned forward. His palms held onto my jaw. I had no desire to let go. I was becoming dependent on this roller coaster ride we had created.
His lips crushed into mine with greedy intent. I didn't care that we had become drenched in the cold rain. The sparks we'd ignited overpowered the chill. We burned with a hunger that fed off of each other.
"Rhys," I mumbled against his lips. We couldn't remain out here, not when I needed to show him a different side of me–a side that I never imagined revealing to another guy. "Let's go..." I was ready to set aside the pain of losing Zach. "Please, Rhys. Let's go." I'd managed to pull away from him though my fingers clasped his arms.
The rainfall had sped up. A heavy sort of darkness lingered in the sky, right over us. It mirrored the contention of the sea. And while our placement here in the middle should've been serenity, I wasn't too convinced. As I gazed up into his dripping face, I couldn't dismiss the dread that radiated from him.
"Chanel." The words were muted but still I was able to read his lips. My name tumbled from his lips with a pantomime effect.
I responded by leaping into his arms. We were slippery, wet, and needing to bond. As much as he fought this fate, I wouldn’t allow it. When gravity forced me back down to the ground, I took the opportunity to pull at his arm. This time he didn’t hold back. He didn’t stop me from leading him away from the stormy ocean. Although my reach was extended back to guide his way, Rhys followed. His steps were calculated. In fact, he marched for me. That was sufficient, as long as he moved towards me and not away from.
When we reached the car, he settled into the passenger side as I took to the driver’s side. I considered turning around to head for my home, but he pointed in the opposite direction. My gazed trailed from the tip of his finger over to his profiles that glowed and sparked as other vehicles drew near.
Within five minutes, we parked and prepared to walk through Rhys’ front door. Only then did it occur to me that at the other end of that door was Prissy, his friend. So I inhaled and didn’t blow out until we stepped across the threshold.
The walls were dark hardwood to match the floors. Something in the way the vertical placement ran from the front of the home to the direction of the back made me feel destined to be there. Perhaps it was in knowing that Rhys belonged there.
From further inside of the house, male voices raced and dipped. Rhys began directing me towards the staircase until someone called out his name.
He cleared his throat then replied, "Who’s here?" His hands encased mine before reaching for my waist.
"You never heard of an umbrella?" The hallway light flickered on and I glanced up to see an incredibly tall redhead glaring at us. "Rhys–"
"Steve?" Rhys stepped away from me to rush for the stranger. They shook hands and began running off over each other’s words.
"Yeah. Bret is here too." Steve turned to extend his hand in the direction he’d just come from. Rhys followed.
I took that as a cue to leave without drawing attention to myself. It wasn’t until I’d reached the exit that someone acknowledged me, though it wasn’t who I had hoped to.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
I turned to see Prissy rushing for me. Without having enough time to prepare a defense, whether with words or by actions, all I was able to do was stand there with my mouth hanging open. The men hadn’t heard her. They were too busy in their own worlds.
"Get the hell out of my house!" she demanded right before pushing at my shoulder.
I’d never been a fighter. Never had to defend myself against those chicks that carried their struggles out in the open for everyone else to see. I wasn’t that girl. But for the sake of the man that I’d only just began to allow into my world, I refused to allow this girl the upper hand in bullying me out of his life.
Rather than allow her to
push me again, I grabbed her wrist. She gasped. The look of shock as her pupils widened gave me the needed push to continue on.
"I don’t have a damn thing to say to you, Prissy. I didn’t come here on my own and I sure as hell didn’t come here to be beat up on by you."
"Get off of me!" she hollered. Prissy wiggled out of my grip. Not because she was that strong, but because I wasn’t there to bring drama.
"Then leave me alone." Unlike her, I didn’t find it necessary to bring attention to our squabble. This was between me and her. Not even Rhys needed to know because he had more important things to take up his time.
"Prissy?" Rhys eventually trotted to where we stood at the entrance. He squinted at her then reached for me to draw my still soaking body into him. "Everything okay?"
Prissy turned at the steps to race up.
"What’s her problem?" Steve asked a few seconds later when he’d made his way back to us.
"Nothing. She has problems with herself," Rhys quickly replied.
"I’m heading out, Rhys." I covered my face in the moisture of his chest.
"No…" He turned to capture Steve’s attention. "I’ll be right back with you guys. Give me a couple minutes." He then led me up the stairway and down a short hallway that was an exact replicate of the downstairs one. We prepared to enter a room on the right, one that had been left opened when Prissy came rushing out. I barely peered inside to see sheets tossed onto the ground, as well as strong fragrances rushing from inside. Not only had she pulled up his bed, she had also knocked everything off of his dresser in that short bit of time.
"Hell!" Rhys shouted, then went in pursuit of Prissy.
She tried to slam her door shut, but he was able to stick his foot in the passageway and shove at the door. I’d like to say I stood there in shock and disbelief, but I wasn’t surprised.
Did I believe he was currently involved with her? Not really, though it might’ve been a recent thing for her rage to be so profound.
"Rhys?" I called for him during his push into the room. "Rhys," I cried out louder. When he didn’t reply, I moved from the spot where I’d been planted. Prissy had begun slapping at his arms and chest. I could imagine that there was a bit of a sting since he was still fairly wet. Rhys maintained his anger, even when I saw how wide his back had gotten and that he could quite possibly squeeze the life out of his smaller body.