Throwing the blankets off he raced out of the room and down the stairs, still fully in the nude and not giving a damn. The living room was silent, the kitchen empty. He looked out the blinds to see his truck still where he parked it the night before. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her leaving. He’d been so sure things were different this time. How could she do this to him? Again.
He sat down on the couch, leaning his head back and tried to come to some sort of peace with the idea that he would forever be chasing after his girl while she constantly ran away from him. It’s like he was being punished, karma and all that shit. He was getting back what he gave ten fold and it hurt like he couldn’t understand. Before her he never hurt, never felt any form of emotion toward women, and now it seemed that was all he was capable of feeling.
Standing up he trudged back upstairs, unsure of what he was going to do. He needed to find her, she couldn’t have gotten far. For a brief second he wondered if she heard what he told her the night before. He could have sworn she’d been sleeping, but even if she did hear him, why leave without asking him about it first? She had to know he would find her again. There was nowhere she could go where he wouldn’t find her.
His bladder kicking into gear, he went in search for the upstairs bathroom, surely there was one connected to the master bedroom, he just hadn’t noticed it before.
Back in the room he walked down a short hall leading to a closet and then to a closed door. Twisting the handle, he opened the door and stepped in to find the room full of steam, the sound of the shower soft within. It was the quietist fucking shower he’d ever heard and also the most comforting. He heaved a sigh of relief.
Sneaking into the toilet room he was quick about his business and then opened the heavy glass door and joined her within. She didn’t even jump, was content in his presence and let her body fall back into his.
“Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”
“Too quiet babe. You didn’t wake me. You scared me.”
“Why? You thought I left you?”
He didn’t respond, but his arms tightening around her said everything.
Twisting, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m right where I want to be.”
“You don’t know what it means to hear you say that.”
“Well it’s true. I’m not going anywhere.”
“No. You’re not.”
Wrapping a hand around her neck Braxton guided her into another kiss, slow and meaningful. She turned fully toward him, giving their mouths better access. The water cascaded down on them, splashing their faces and he moved her out of the spray, her back up against the tiled wall.
Cupping her face, he went back to kissing her, roaming his hands from her cheeks to her neck, down to her breasts. He squeezed them in unison and bent down to lick one, sucking a nipple into his mouth before moving back up to continue with their kiss.
Annie lifted a leg, bringing it to his hip and he reached down to hold it steady. He was already at attention, ready to go the moment he stepped into the shower. Using his other hand, he guided himself to her entrance and pushed in slow and gentle, never breaking their kiss. She felt so good, like she always did, and Braxton moved to go deeper, needing to be as close as possible.
They kept up a steady rhythm, their tongues and hands continuing to explore each other as if they’d never done this before. “This is how it should have been,” he told her, never pausing his movements. “In New York, when we woke up. Just like this. Perfect. You’re so perfect. I could make love to you forever and never get tired of it.”
He was right, this was nice and she agreed, it should have been like this in New York, but there was something off about what they were doing. While she loved it, it wasn’t them. They’d spent all night making love, rolling around in bed; being affectionate, playful, normal. It was the second best night of sex she’d ever had, back in New York being the first, but something about it all felt fake, forced. Like now that they admitted they were in love and were going to try and be together, he felt like he needed to be soft with her. It was always his roughness she found so attractive. While it was okay to be sweet and tender, she also wanted him to know it was okay not to be as well, sometimes even preferred.
“Harder Brax. Show me how much you love me.”
He picked up speed, held on tight around her body for leverage, but it still wasn’t enough.
“More Brax. I need you to own me.”
Acknowledging her request, he began thrusting harder, her back slamming against the wall over and over again.
“Is that all you got?” She reached both hands up around his neck, squeezing tight. “You’re fucking me like a pussy. Show me Ax. I want him to fuck me.”
Her words were pissing him off. He was being rough with her. How much more did she want from him?
“Remember when I left you, when I lied to you, told you I was on my way to meet you. Remember when you found out, how angry you must have been, what you wanted to do to me.”
Braxton cut her off mid babble. He pulled out, spun her around and smacked her on the ass with more force than necessary. Doing it once again he ended with a full palmed squeeze while he slammed into her. This time, he held nothing back, raging in anger with the memories she recalled, but still had some semblance of reality to know she was playing him once again. This was what she wanted and she knew exactly how to get it from him.
His hand found its way into her hair and he yanked back. “You fucking bitch,” he shouted. “Did you honestly think you could leave me?”
She didn’t respond and he pulled her hair once more while continuing to rail her.
“Answer me!”
“Yeah I did. I can leave you whenever I want. You don’t fucking own me.”
His laugh echoed throughout the shower stall, but what she said was anything but funny. “Say it again and watch what happens,” he warned, trailing his two fingers down the crack of her ass and stopping at the tight little bud. He could feel her tense and knew he’d won. If she wanted to play games he’d show her exactly how he played, and it wasn’t always fair. “Awfully silent now aren’t you? I still think I should teach you a lesson.” Without further warning he pushed both fingers through her back entrance and she cried out.
“Don’t you fucking dare Brax.”
Trying to squirm out of his hold, he only held on tighter, still furiously giving her what she had begged for. With his fingers inside, the tightness was considerably greater. If he could feel it so could she, but he wasn’t letting her off the hook and began to move both digits, circling them around, stretching her in all directions. “I’m going to give you one last chance B,” he pulled out of her and let the tip of his cock roam over the area where his fingers had just been. “Tell me who owns you.”
“You do,” she relented.
“Say it again so you don’t forget next time.”
“You do!”
“That’s fucking right.”
He pushed himself against her, half wanting to scare her and half wanting to test the waters to see if doing her in the ass was ever a possibility, but she screamed on contact. He hadn’t penetrated her what so ever, barely pressed. She was screaming out of fear more than pain, and this time he laughed for real. “Don’t ask for something you can’t handle babe.” He stood her up and turned her to face him. “You want to tell me what that was all about? Was I not doing it good before? I always have to hurt you for you to like it?”
“No. It’s just, you don’t have to be so soft with me. I’m not going anywhere Brax. You’re not going to break me.”
“Do you think I was doing it slow because I was scared to break you? Because I’m not. Trust me babe, I want to break you. I want to push you so far I ruin you, so we can be ruined together. I was doing it slow because I’ve never had that before. I’ve never made love. I’ve never cared to do anything more than get off and get out. Are you telling me I can’t have that? Do you have an aversion to doing it slow or so
mething?”
“No, of course not.”
“If you do then tell me. I won’t judge you. That’s our thing remember. You want me to violate and fuck the shit out of you every time, then done, I can do that no problem. I just need to know.”
She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes and closed the distance between them. “No. I didn’t know Brax. I thought you were doing it slow because you felt like you had to. I wanted to show you that you weren’t going to scare me away. I’m not leaving this time. I loved it when you were slow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Brax and Annie got out of the shower after finishing what they had started, making love until the water went cold and even then continued on until they both found their release. He wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the bedroom, setting her on the bed to cuddle away the cold under the thick comforter. They laid together for hours, talking about nothing and everything. For Braxton it was the best day of his life.
Keith swept the glass on the kitchen floor, an outcome from his burst of anger after receiving Annabel’s text. She’d never not come home before and he pitched the vase of flowers he’d bought for her onto the tile in response. He expected she’d be angry, who wouldn’t be, but he thought she’d at least come home so they could talk. Apparently that was too much to expect. He was a fool for buying her the flowers, for thinking their marriage would get better with time, for ever loving her to begin with.
Drowning himself in liquor he contemplated divorcing her; the ugly word making him nauseous, or maybe that was just the vodka. He debated calling Carter, inviting him over to wallow in his misery or maybe they could go out, he could forget Annabel ever existed and enjoy the company of a woman who could make him happy, at least for the night, but in the end he decided against both ideas. He may have been drunk, but he still had his morals, stupid fucking morals, and Carter wasn’t in a position to talk some sense into him, likely the opposite would have occurred.
Keith passed out on the couch that night and woke up with a painful crook in his neck and a headache to match. Annabel still wasn’t home. A part of him thought she was exaggerating in her text; maybe he just hoped she was. Who goes up north alone for an entire weekend? And even if she did, wouldn’t she be bored by now? Annabel wasn’t one to sit around and do nothing. Maybe she was on her way home? He looked up at the clock on the mantle, it wasn’t even noon yet. If she really did stay the night she wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours at the earliest.
Staggering into the kitchen he took the bottle of pain reliever down from the top of the fridge. It was an odd place to keep it, but always convenient. Shaking two into his palm, he stepped around the island and examined his prior night’s handy work. Glass was fucking everywhere. Great. And in the center of it all were the flowers, the dandelions he picked out specifically for her. He wanted them wilted, probably the only person to ask a flower shop if they had any old flowers, but it was their thing, always had been. Now the flowers just looked sad; bent and drowned.
Squatting down he picked up several stems, shook the water from the ends and walked them over to the trash can. It was a sad metaphor for his own life, trying to shake off the damage when it’s inevitably going in the garbage.
As he cleaned up the glass, he thought about Annabel. Wondered what she was thinking at that very moment. Was she feeling bad for leaving? Sad for the way they left things? Or was she happy? Embracing her new found freedom. That last thought sickened him. What if she didn’t want to try anymore? What if she’d already thrown them away? It made him realize how much he missed her; how he couldn’t live without her. She was the love of his life, is the love of his life. He wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. She might not want to hear from him, but he had to let her know he was thinking of her.
Taking out his phone he replied to her text from the night before.
I understand if you need time by yourself, but I’m here if you want to talk. 12:02pm
An hour went by with no response.
I love you Annabel. I’m so sorry for what happened. I promise I’m going to make things right. I’ll get your job back for you. I’ll do anything I can to make this go away. 1:15pm
Still no response. The sun was setting and he’d yet to hear a peep from her. While waiting he called her phone half a dozen times with no answer. He was beginning to get worried.
Just tell me you’re okay. I need to know you’re safe. 6:48pm
I’m okay. We’ll talk tomorrow when I get home. 6:48pm
The text message wasn’t appeasing, but it was better than nothing and gave him the drive to make good on his promise. When he talked to her next he wanted to at least be able to tell her things were on their way to being fixed. Maybe then she’d forgive him. Would see how much he loves her and hopefully start to love him back. They’d had a rough patch, but they weren’t over, and he wasn’t going to give up. He’d fight for her until the very end, and lucky for him, he knew someone who was good at fighting, who could help him with what he needed.
“Carter, are you at home? I need your help with something. Can I come over?”
“No. I’m actually on a date.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt. Call me after.”
“After will be tomorrow if I have my way, but she’s in the bathroom now so what’s up?”
“Well it’s sort of a long story.”
“Have anything to do with you running out yesterday?”
“Yeah it does actually. Judge Sanders called me and Annabel into her office and accused us of violated the ethics code by having Annabel interview Jason.”
“So what happened? I mean you did, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Sort of. That’s not the point. What happened is that she reported Annabel to the psychology board which is an automatic license suspension and Annabel basically blames it all on me, so I need to fix this and I need your help.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I want you to look up whatever you can on the Judge. Find something to blackmail her with.”
“Dang Nichols. I didn’t think you had those kind of balls. What about the case? Are you just going to chance throwing it?”
“No. I can’t do that to Jason. I’ll have to hang on to it until after. Just work on trying to find me something. Okay?”
“Sure. Consider it done.”
“Thanks man. I owe you.”
Keith hung up the phone and immediately got to work on Jason’s case. The faster he solved the case, the faster he could get Annabel’s job back. Jason was innocent. All he had to do was find out what happened.
He went back through all the research; Melanie’s autopsy, the original police report, the testimonies from party goers and specifically Chris’s testimony. Searching for inconsistencies, he read everything he had on the case at least a dozen times and eventually called it a night at two in the morning when he could no longer keep his eyes open. This time he made it up to his room and even though Annabel wasn’t home, he still slept on his side of the bed. It was something he didn’t think he could ever change.
He fell asleep in record time, his brain exhausted from it’s overloaded effort and he slept in way past his normal time, the sound of his phone being the thing to wake him.
“Annabel?” he asked, clearing the morning rasp from his voice.
“No, um Mr. Nichols?”
“Yes?” He sat up, more aware than before.
“It’s Steve from the garage on Jefferson. I hope you don’t mind. I was just calling to make sure you’re okay.”
“What are you talking about? I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well you left your car here sir. It’s been here since Friday so I ran the plates and it was registered under your name. You’re doing that murder case and all so I figured I’d just check in and make sure you were safe.”
What the ever loving fuck? His car was at home, so he had to be referring to Annabel’s, but why was her car still
there if she was up north? “Thanks for checking Steve, I’m okay. My wife must have left it there. It’s a Highlander right?” He had to ask to be sure.
“Yes sir. That’s the one.”
“Do you need me to pick it up now or will it be okay for a few more hours?”
“Oh, no rush. You can get it whenever. I was just simply calling to check.”
“Right. Thanks. We’ll get it soon.”
They said their goodbyes and the line went dead before Keith removed the phone from his ear. What in the hell was going on? Did she lie to him? Was she still in town? And if she was, then who was she with? He was suddenly wide awake, trying to think of the most plausible answer, and the only thing to come to mind was that she had to be with Trevor. Maybe she just didn’t tell him because he got so upset the last time she went out with him.
Even though Trevor was gay, a part of Keith was always jealous when they hung out together. The two of them connected on a different level that was miles above he and Annabel. It must have had something to do with being childhood friends, but the two of them were so close you’d think they were actually family. And not the, I’m going to marry you now, but possibly divorce you one day kind of family, but the, I’ll do anything for you no matter what type. If Annabel was ever forced to choose between him and Keith, if someone had a gun to their heads and told her to pick one, he honestly thought she’d choose Trevor. And this wasn’t a new revelation. Keith thought this way before they ever got married, he just wanted her so bad it didn’t matter, but it was starting to matter now. On the other hand, a part of him prayed she was with Trevor because if she wasn’t, then who was she with? It couldn’t have been Mandy, she has kids and wouldn’t have been able to get away on the fly. There was always Sara, but she would have been last on the list of people to call, and if it wasn’t one of her three friends, then he had no clue who it could be, and that thought worried him the most. Could she have just left town on her own? Hopped on a bus maybe? It was a far fetched theory. Annabel wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. Maybe she was still in town, walked across the street to one of the hotels. That was definitely a viable option.
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