by Janice Ross
"You need to leave, now…"
Once the words got out, he turned away, gripped my arm and led me toward his room. I turned back to see Prissy’s hands still flying at him, but I could tell he felt nothing. Once we stepped inside of his bedroom, he shut and locked the door. Prissy’s anger carried on in words and harsh knocks on the door. I kept looking at the barrier that was now separating us. Hurt and depression and bad choices threatened to keep us apart . I wouldn't let them I wanted to be in this moment with him–taking in his presence and getting lost in the scent of him.
"I’m sorry," he offered. Rhys’ hands rested on my forehead before sliding down to the sides of my face. When he reached my chin, he tipped it up to bring my lips to his. "I thought I could let you go, but I can't."
"Why would you want to?" The pain of knowing that he considered turning me away from him weakened my grip. I had to wrap my fingers around his arms and squeeze. The harder I held onto him, the tighter I squeezed my eyes shut. When I felt moisture gathering at the brim, I told myself that he wouldn’t notice since I was still wet and the room wasn’t lit all that well.
"Chanel, one day we’re going to get away from the distractions to talk."
I began nodding up and down. I wanted to talk with him, to kiss him, and to reach another level with him.
"I got so much shit going on inside of me now. I probably need to clear away the past before I can move on with you, or anyone for that matter."
"With me," I quickly corrected. "You know what I’ve been going through."
"Yeah." He spat out the word as if it was an eternal enemy that had refused to leave him alone.
"Then maybe we need to address things now, and start out fresh." I walked over to where he’d perched at the end of the naked bed. "I can help you to cope. Rhys, we can do this together."
His arms stuck outward, while his fingers tugged and formed spikes of dark hair. He grunted, only to throw himself back onto the bed. He remained still.
"Whatever it is, you’re good. I see your light."
"Is it a dark one?"
"When I look at your light, it’s like my own is reflecting back at me." I climbed on top of him. "Look at me, Rhys. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here."
Maybe there was something in the way I looked desperate to make him understand, but Rhys removed his hands from his head. He rolled over until I was plastered beneath him.
Rhys’ mouth engaged mine. Our tongues thrashed one to the other while we reveled in the passionate exchange. My limbs became flooded over with a force of lust. I opened up to him, giving him my world–past, present and future.
XXXIX.
Rhys
~
I only intended to comfort Chanel in a way that would allow her to walk away without feeling that there was hope for us. But this time, when I began nibbling on her lips, I couldn’t help but question, "what if."
What if we didn’t have to address the things that had damaged us?
What if we didn’t need to reflect on the pain that had defined our lives up to this point?
What if she never found out that I had set the things in motion that eventually caused her heartbreak?
What if?
Suddenly "what if" made sense.
I unleashed the passion I’d been able to keep under wraps since that day I'd met her, when my life had appeared to be falling apart. My lips rolled over her skin. I fed off of the energy. She tasted like morsels of heaven and I wanted more than my share.
"Rhys…" My name rolled off of her tongue with a promise I couldn’t deny. "Take me, please?"
Maybe I should’ve revealed things when the picture had fallen from my fingers, but I hadn’t been brave enough then. Dammit, I didn’t believe it was possible to rely on my bravery any longer. Chanel brought me to my knees. She made me weak for her.
I literally dropped before her at the foot of the bed. Her clothes came off to land in the pile of crap that Prissy had formed. I pushed up, parted her legs. Between them pulsated with an urgency I was dying to encounter.
"I'm ready for you," she promised.
I parted my lips to respond, but instead of releasing words, I sought out her clit. From the minute I engaged her sweetness, she melted under my control. I fed on all that she had to offer. Her inner moisture fed me her love while the cries of satisfaction reinforced my ability to please. I was a man with the desire to know I was capable of messing up and redeeming myself. Though my redemption hadn’t yet come, I could only hope to fill Chanel with enough memories to make it possible when the time arrived. I adored her without ever letting her know I was falling into her. I made her mine without verbalizing the sentiment. Instead, I branded her on the inside in hopes of leaving a mark for all eternity.
Prissy’s fight had only been minor, but when Chanel released, Prissy became silent. Chanel giggled from underneath her cries.
"I don’t think you’re supposed to laugh," I teased, planting kisses along her inner thighs.
XL.
Chanel
~
So, my first time should’ve been less dramatic. I would go back and redo things. When I thought back to the perfect love I’d had with Zach and the purity of our time, I was glad to be able to break away from the stigma. Maybe life would be more practical with a guy that was anything but perfect.
"Rhys, your mattress is all wet."
"So are you," he teased as his fingers rubbed along the rim of my treasure.
"You’re a pervert."
"And?"
"I might need to stay up here for a full week."
"Why?"
"You want me to leave?"
"Hell no. You’re the one that wants to stay up here."
"I can’t look at your friends after this. I’m not sure of how loud I was, but they must know." She rolled away from me, then back over. "And the noise…"
"They’re downstairs. You might want to worry about my roommates."
"Oh shit, Rhys!"
"I’m teasing, Chanel. There’s nothing to worry about."
"Well, Prissy was still–"
"Let’s get up."
I didn’t press the issue further. We got up to get dressed. My clothes were still wet, so Rhys hung them on a hanger and placed them on the bathroom rod. He handed me a basic white button down. I didn’t have an extra pair of underwear to put on, but he liked the idea of me walking through his place with that hint of naughtiness.
"You can sit next to me," he said, then added, "I can feel on you from under the table."
"That’s disgusting," I screeched.
"To who?"
As I prepared a rebuttal, I dug into my mind without being able to defend my argument. Rhys and I had gotten intimate, so I guess there was nothing disgusting about our intimacy from here on out.
Bracing to step outside of the door, my mind flashed to Mallory. I still had her car and hadn’t checked in.
"Can I use your phone?"
"Might be dead with the water damage from the rain," he replied in a light tone, even smiling like money hadn’t been spent to buy it.
The phone was dead.
We stepped out from his door to an empty hallway. The room across the hallway had been left wide open. He threw an arm across my body. I moved my body into his. A huge part of me felt somewhat guilty for being in Prissy's territory. I paused to focus on shadows along the bed and walls of the colorful bedroom. It wasn't until my eyes crossed with Prissy's that I turned away. My breath lodged in my chest as I braced for another confrontation. When nothing else happened–no words, nor movement other than our own–we moved along the wooden-paneled walls. Our footsteps barely caused minor creaks in the floorboards.
"C'mon," Rhys whispered. We ascended the stairs. Voices from below continued on like they'd forgotten our drama or that we were still here.
"Sounds like only guys down there. I can go home." I had no desire to leave, but if I remained, there was one of two options: hang with the boys or in Rhys' bedroom. The
latter made me believe it would draw attention to Prissy, something I could do without.
"You can't leave me," he declared.
"I’ll come back," I mumbled with my lips pressed to his neck. The bottom end of the white tee shirt id borrowed from his drawer brushed along my thighs. A wave of lust rode up then down my skin. I lowered my eyelids to inhale his fresh shower gel we'd used. The entire time, Rhys led me through his home to the kitchen and his friends.
As I listened to them talk about things that guys cared for, I tried in earnest to tuck away those dark, devastating emotions I'd carried for the past several years. I couldn’t say whether or not the time was right, though it suddenly felt that way. Here I was, Zachary Marlowe's girl. I'd sworn an undying love to the guy who'd stolen my heart at a time when I'd first learned to love. One day I'd been in mourning, and in a moment my heart had been captured by a stranger.
Rhys' eyes examined me. Although I fixed my gaze to a hanging clock, from the corner of my eyes, I felt the weight of his stare outlining the side of my face and lips. A smile crept across my lips. Water flooded my pupils. I had to force myself to remain still. A spot of moisture pricked at the area just underneath my left eye. I would've wiped it away, but doing so would've brought attention when I didn't want to be noticed. Instead, I slowly shifted to my left to move out of sight, enough to hide this unnecessary emotion of mine.
I slipped out and away from his home in order to be alone with my thoughts. The tears flowed freely while I mourned and rejoiced.
XLI.
Chanel
~
I answered the door to find a fully soaked Prissy standing in the doorway with hands held high.
"Truce?"
I hadn't ever been a wishy-washy child, much less a dumb adult who'd fall for anything. One foot pushed off to the side, I advised, "A truce is not needed. Turn your tacky ass around and get the hell off of my property."
She didn't make a single move in the opposite direction so we glared at one another, the showers steadily pelting the sidewalk. With the clouds, the moon, and a slight penetration of thunder, the mood was set.
"I only need five minutes."
"To tell me Rhys is yours?"
"No, Chanel. There's something you need to know."
My hand found the edge of the door. Women had bad habits of bringing drama when their opportunities slipped away.
"Hear me out. I'll be quick."
I pumped my head up and down, hoping only to appease the troublemaker. I'd then bring things to Rhys' attention for handling.
"Rhys is broken up over this all but you need to know the facts." She paused to swallow. "Your ex-boyfriend–"
"How dare you!" I lunged out of a pink pair of fuzzy slippers, landing in her face. My fingers found her neck though she had me by several inches. Her hands flashed around.
"Please," she puffed.
Five seconds later I let go.
"Please don't react. Give me an opportunity to finish. I overheard Rhys talking about it with those guys."
I bobbed my head up and down, growing impatient with each second.
"I'll sum things up. You can ask Rhys to explain." Prissy massaged her neck. I felt certain she might've had a bruise, but refused to turn on a light to determine. "They know Maggie, his ex-girl too. They just told him."
"Keep going." My reply was curt.
"Zachary," Prissy took a step backward, "was messing around with Rhys' ex. I think she was his fiancée. He caught them together and beat the shit out of him."
A looming feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. Even if I’d wanted to reclaim her neck, I lacked the strength to do so now. Bitter tears formed in my eyes for the breakdown of everything I'd once believed to be true.
"And the woman Zach died saving, along with the twins, they were Rhys’ father's. Rhys feels certain he caused their deaths. You need to demand an explanation of every twisted thing he's done. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he tracked you down to purposely return the favor of what had been done to him."
Prissy's horns had appeared. I'd heard enough.
In one motion, I slammed the door and slid to the floor with my back pressed firmly to the cold wood. Not only was my body depleted, my mind was numb. No more tears fell. A light tapping from the opposite end of the door only shed me further. She’d brought pain to my doorstep. Should I have been thankful for this exposé? Were all points a requirement or could some have been withheld?
I found a path to Rhys' house. Between the ride from one house to the next, my eyes remained dry. I had to hear a full confession from his lips, not from the bitter chick who'd known better than to remain on my doorway after delivering the news. For her sake, I prayed to God she hadn't returned home yet.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
I slammed on his door with the side of a balled up fist. I launched my teeth into my lips to remain silent. As far as I was concerned, I had no right to speak. My goal was to listen for Rhys' full disclosure.
"Baby, what's going on? Where are your clothes?" Rhys' smile turned down.
"To hell with me! Rhys, I need to know every detail. Every fucked up, distorted, convoluted detail of the life I never knew existed."
"Now's not the time." His body and rigid arms, revealing markings of a new man, moved to mine. From the first day we'd met, Rhys has taken over my atmospheric surroundings. Three years later, here we were in deeper relations than before.
"No! You can't have or control me. I can't belong to a liar, a deceiver, or a killer. I only need you to tell me the truth one last time."
"I don't even know the details other than the bits and pieces. I only found out about Sarah today when you showed me the clippings."
"And Zachary?"
"I heard that Maggie got depressed over the death of her boyfriend, Zachary, who was apparently a hero."
"You were at the center of it all, Rhys."
"This guy cheated on you–"
I threw a fist into his face, and then turned to flee his presence as fast as I could. My mind was in need of resetting. I'd believed in a lie, one of my very first love. Nothing made sense. I was confused out of my mind. Several times the car nearly plowed off road, but I maintained the direction right to the point where it all began–the place of Zach's death.
Present day...
XLII.
Chanel
~
Certain moments will forever be frozen in time–the universe shifting to accommodate the earth, the sum of all fears, the pulsating heartbeats of star-crossed lovers, the moment you question the purpose of living and the instant you no longer deny the truth.
This is mine–painful, satisfying and messed up.
"Go to hell!" I shouted up into the pouring rain as it plopped down into my eyes and my nose, suffocating me as it rushed into my mouth
I was wearing super short khakis and an aqua tank plastered to firm, palm-sized breasts and shapely thighs. My feet were bare, and my toes swarmed with sand from the bottom of the ocean. Each second found me sinking into the gooey glob. It was a heavy type of comfort, overtaken by heaviness from up top to down below, squeezing off my air.
Precisely the point, right?
Everything, every minute figment, crowded my very existence. Drops of rain crushed me. The roar of waves ripped apart my eardrums. The on and off flash of lightning crept near enough to make me fear death. For a split second, I worried about dying, but then I realized this time, fear was meant to be my finale.
Why worry?
"Chanel...baby..." trailed over the waves, but I knew within my heart of hearts that even if I were to dip below the water, I would be able to recognize the depth of his distinct sound over mother nature's anger.
"Don't do this." Rhys' pleas blended with the roar of the waves and crashing of the showers from above. Though somewhat distant, he gripped my senses. He stood several feet away in sinking sand, surrounded by warm water. His words only scratched the surface of my world. Although I could avoid looking into
his hypnotic gaze on this dark and tumultuous night, my mind was etched with how perfect he could be. With lips resembling the outline of Tom Hardy's sun-kissed perfection, and icy gray orbs like an iceberg in the Alaskan sea, I was forever under this terrible spell of his.
I was performing this awesome balancing act between our past, present and future–a curse, a threat and destiny. The waters of the Atlantic swished around my shoulders. I caught a quick glimpse of his fight to reach me. A sloppy, yet fierce rhythm assaulted my chest. I dipped slowly, steadily. Water rushed between my lips and still my throat felt dry. My insides burned with fire though my mind was weary.
I was out in the ocean, the beginning and ending of everything in my world. I no longer felt sorry for myself, but was instead willing to accept what I'd endured. All that was left was for me to finally let go of the memories, of the pain, of the happiness, and of this life.
"Chanel!" He was directly above me now.
My forehead brushed against a pair of drenched slacks. I opened my eyes to see Rhys towering over me. With the exception of the midnight sky and vicious showers pouring down upon us, he appeared to be the light. He wanted to be my knight in shining armor, my white knight.
Damn deceptive thoughts; he couldn’t ever be the good in any circumstance.
No, Rhys couldn’t be the light, nor could I let him rescue me.
Could I?
He was no good for me. In fact, he was the devil; a creature set on mounting the white horse to conquer my world…if I let him.
"Let me go–" I mumbled, only to take in a mouthful of water. I dipped beneath the applauding waves without holding my breath. A gush of moisture flood my nostrils. It burned, stinging like hell. I let it. This needed to be my punishment for falling for an asshole. Who the hell gave their heart and soul to a deceiver, a gutless bastard…a killer?