Love Untamed

by Ra'Chael Ohara

  I haven’t said anything. Neither has he. I’m scared that if I talk or even breathe too loudly, he will disappear and this will be just one of the many dreams I’ve had about him since leaving Alaska.

  “I miss you,” he finally whispers in my ear, and of course that brings tears to my eyes instantly. I don’t respond, but with that one simple sentence, everyone around us fades away, leaving just him and me on that dance floor.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly before placing soft, wet kisses in a line down my shoulder. Now the tears come out. My stomach is tossing and I’m between wanting to pull him closer and wanting to run away, but I still say nothing.

  “I regretted telling you to leave the second it left my mouth, baby. I should have listened to you. I was confused and hurt. To think that every night we spent together, every memory we made, was a lie was too much, and I snapped. If I would have just took a second to think, I would have known that my Eva wouldn’t have ever done anything like that.”

  Those tears that were beginning to leak earlier? Yeah, now they’re falling rapidly and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I absorb every word he says. I take them in my mind and analyze them to shreds. I want to believe that he’s sorry. I want to believe that he wants me, but I am so sick of people hurting me.

  I’m tired, just so tired, of putting everything I have into every relationship, whether it was my relationship with Pearl or Elliot, and getting nothing back but heartache.

  On top of all of that, it’s not just me anymore. I have my baby to think about. That reminder makes my whole world stop. The baby. He doesn’t know about our baby. Would he still be saying all of these things if he knew? Would he even want our little bean?

  We never talked about having kids or marriage. What if this isn’t something he even wants in his life. I know, with Claire, he said he wanted to have a family. Is that still true?

  All the worries invading my head makes my blood pressure rise. The whooshing sound in my ear drowns out the music. I need to get out of here. I need to think.

  I jerk away from Brantley so fast that I stumble backwards. The only thought I have is to leave. Brantley’s eyes go wide when he takes in the panic written on my face. “Baby?”

  “I have to go. I have to leave,” I choke out.

  “Okay.” He nods and grabs my hand. “Let’s go.” When he tries to lead us to the door, I yank my hand free from his grasp.

  “No. I mean I have to leave. Without you.” Now he looks panicked.

  “No, you need to leave with me and give me a chance to talk this out with you,” he says adamantly. My spine stiffens at the authoritative tone in his voice.

  “You don’t get to boss me into doing what you want me to do. I want time to think, alone, and you’re going to give it to me, Brantley. Because, whether you like it or not, this isn’t about just you and me anymore.”

  I clamp my mouth closed when I realize what I was about to reveal to him in front of a room full of strangers. Yeah, I really need to get out of here.

  “What do you mean it isn’t about just you and me anymore?” Brantley asks through narrowed eyes.

  “Nothing.” I sigh. “I didn’t mean anything. I have to go.” I don’t wait for a response. I scan the room and see Pearl and Eric standing next to each other, glaring daggers at Brantley.

  If I have to call a cab, it’ll take too long for them to get here, and I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. I roll my eyes when I realize my only choice to get out of here is Eric.

  “Do you mind if we head out? I’m getting kind of tired,” I ask him when I come to stand in front of him. The slimy smile Eric gives me when I ask to leave almost has me rethinking the wait for the cab.

  “Sure thing. Let’s roll,” he says as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. I’m about to remove it when I feel heat at my back.

  “You have two seconds to remove your hand from my woman’s shoulder before I fucking break it.” He sounds so lethal, I swing my wide-eyed gaze behind me, as does Eric, and as soon as he sees Brantley, his arm vanishes from my shoulder.

  I don’t blame him. Brantley looks downright menacing. He’s standing at his full height, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His beautiful pink lips are in a thin line, and he’s giving Eric a look that says if he makes one wrong move, he will destroy him.

  “Well, Brantley, I’m surprised to see you here,” Pearl butts in before I can say anything. I turn, eyes narrowed, ready to tell her to fuck off, when Brantley beats me to it.

  “I can imagine you are, Pearl. After all, you went through great lengths to make sure that Eva and I ended, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not sit here and act like we don’t want to kill each other. Pretending isn’t my style. So, unless you want to let everyone here see what a fucking snake you are, I would keep your mouth shut.”

  Pearl looks like she just swallowed a lemon, but she does something I have never seen her do before. She turns her head toward the crowd and keeps her mouth shut. “Good choice,” Brantley adds, then turns his lethal glare my way. Oh shit.

  “So, by it not being just about you and me anymore, you meant this fucking clown?” Eric opens his mouth to defend himself against Brantley’s insult, but Brantley shoots him a look that makes him quickly close his mouth. “If I want you to talk, asshole, I’ll address you. Until then, do yourself a favor and keep your fucking mouth closed.”

  His eyes come back to me.

  “It didn’t fucking take you long to move on, did it? I must be fucking stupid to think that what we had actually meant something to you. I won’t make that fucking mistake again.” Now it’s my turn to lose it.

  “How dare you? What we had meant nothing to me? What about you, Brant? You ended things without even blinking, like it was the easiest thing to do, all because you chose to listen to the lies my psychotic bitch of a mother told you. I’m done, Brantley. Now it’s time for you to leave. Get back on your plane and go back to Alaska. You don’t belong here.” I see his face turn red with anger with every word I speak, but I don’t let it stop me.

  I look at Eric now. “I’m ready to leave now,” I tell him before rushing off. I can hear Brantley calling for me to stop, but I ignore him and pick up my pace, going as fast as I possibly can in my heels.

  I’m looking down at the floor when I run into a wall. Only it’s not a wall because walls don’t grunt. I look up at a man and quickly take a step back. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and the most awful feeling creeps through me. I know him, I just don’t know from where.

  I clear my throat and mumble sorry when I realize I’m staring at him. “No problem, sweetheart,” he answers, then walks away. I shake my feelings off and walk outside to see Eric already waiting by the limo.

  Before I can reach him, Brantley catches up to me and grabs my upper arm before swinging me to face him. “Let go!” I growl.

  He does, but doesn’t let his eyes lose their connection with mine. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you just fucking talk to me?” His voice is thick with emotion. I have to fight off my own emotions and keep myself from jumping in his arms. I look down at the sidewalk, trying to gather my thoughts.

  “It sucks, doesn’t it, Brantley? To just want so badly for the person who means most to you in this world to just listen? Why should I do that for you? You sure as hell didn’t for me.”

  “You’re pissed, baby. I get it, trust me. I’m pissed at my fucking self. You want time to think? I’ll give you that, no problem, but what I will not do is let you get in that fucking car with another man. You’re mine, Eva!” He chokes out through what I assume is anger and sadness.

  “Correction, Brant. I was yours. You let me go.” After that blow, I climb into the back of the limo. As the driver pulls away, Brantley slams his hand on the window three times. I can’t see him, but I can hear him. “This isn’t fucking over, Eva. You will talk to me,” he threatens before we drive off.

  My eyes once again cloud with tears. I
blink them back and look at Eric. I guess if there’s one good thing that came from all this drama, it’s that Eric looks like he can’t wait to get rid of me. “So, should I have the driver drop you at your trailer?” I hold back a laugh. Yep, definitely can’t wait to get rid of me.

  “Yeah, take me home,” I respond, but then think better of it. If I know Brantley, he’s going to be at the trailer waiting for me by the time I get there, and right now I don’t have it in me to go another round with him.

  I can, however, think of a better place to be for my little bean and me. “Actually, could you just drop me off at a Dunkin’ Donuts?”

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  I’M PREGNANT, YOU JACKASS

  Four hours, two bear claws, and a jelly doughnut later—do not judge me—I still have no idea what I’m going to do about Brantley and me. What I do know is, it’s time to go because if one more customer or employee looks at me with sympathetic eyes, I will lose it.

  I can’t blame them. I can only imagine how pathetic I look sitting in a Dunkin’ Donuts booth in the middle of the night, dressed in my beautiful red dress while stuffing doughnut after doughnut in my mouth and silently crying. I’m so classy. Not. I’m a hot mess.

  I sigh when the old man who’s been sitting at the table across from me, drinking coffee, gets up to leave, but not before giving me a sad smile. I think it’s time to call it a night. It’s three o’clock in the morning. I’m sure even Brantley’s gone by now.

  Thirty minutes later, my cab comes to a stop in front of Char’s trailer. After paying the cab driver, who spent every other five minutes ogling my tits in the rearview mirror, I grab my shoes and make my way across the trailer’s dirt yard. I yelp and jump back when I see a man sitting on the wooden steps in front of the trailer. I throw my fists up, prepared for battle.

  My heart doesn’t calm until the man lifts his head and I see it's Brantley. My heart may have calmed down, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Brantley looks as shattered as I feel.

  His long hair is down from his bun and I have to take a minute to once again take in how beautiful he is. His tux jacket is gone, and his white tux shirt that was neatly tucked and pressed is now wrinkled and in disarray. The top button is undone and his tie is pulled loose.

  “Have fun?” he asks in an eerily calm voice before taking a drink from his beer. My body is so emotionally drained from all that’s happened in the past two weeks, hell, from everything that’s happened in the past three months, that I don’t think I can stand here and have this conversation with Brantley right now.

  “Loads. I’m tired, Brantley. Just go…wherever you’re staying and let me go to bed. We can talk about this later. Or never.” I know this night isn’t even close to over when Brantley gives me a disbelieving look.

  “You’re shitting me, right? I’ve been on this front step for four motherfucking hours, worried sick, wondering where the fuck you were! Heart in my goddamn throat, thinking about what you’re doing…with him. So fuck that. No. You’re going to fucking talk to me,” he roars, and then stands up to chuck his beer bottle across the yard.

  “I wasn’t with Eric,” I shout back. I see some of the tension leave Brantley’s body at my confession before he tilts his head and narrows his eyes suspiciously.

  “Where were you?”

  “Dunkin’ Donuts,” I say, but the words comes out more as garbled mess.

  “What?” he snaps impatiently.

  “I said I was at Dunkin’ Donuts. Jerkwad.” I mumble the last part under my breath.

  “Why did you go to Dunkin’ Donuts?”

  “I was hungry.” I shrug.

  “So, the shithead just dropped you off at Dunkin’ Donuts in the middle of the fucking night?” he asks slowly, getting more irritated with every word. I shrug again. “Asshole,” he mutters.

  When Brantley doesn’t say anything more—just stares at me, blinking—I take a deep breath and rub my temples. The headache I got from arguing with him earlier is coming back with a vengeance. “Now that you know I wasn’t out with Eric, do you mind getting out of the way so I can go inside and go to bed now? My feet hurt, and this dress is cutting off my circulation.”

  I see his lips twitch, but his face is still sketched in determination. “No, you can’t. We still have shit to talk about,” he says, a little calmer this time.

  “No, we don’t, Brantley,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m getting more and more irritated the longer I stand out here.

  Now his calmness is gone. “Yeah we fucking do. You know what? Fuck it, I’m not going to argue about this anymore. You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” I cross my arms and glare, but don’t argue. It’s becoming clear that I’m not getting inside that trailer or out of this dress until we talk, so I let him say whatever it is he wants to say.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasps. The defeat in his voice catches me off guard, causing the ice protecting my heart to melt.

  “For how long, Brantley? You’re always ‘sorry,’” I say with as little emotion as I can. “You were sorry when we first met for assuming that I was the spoiled, cold princess you thought I was before ever really getting to know me. I spent the last three months proving myself to be otherwise. I spent nights with you. I trusted you. I opened myself up to you, showed you all my scars. I made myself vulnerable so we could have a chance and yet it took one visit from Pearl, a woman you know has spent her life trying to control me, and you believed everything that she spewed out of her mouth.

  “So, you’re sorry now, but for how long? Until the next time Pearl stirs up shit? Because trust me, that will happen, especially when she realizes that she won’t be able to control me anymore. I can’t do it, Brantley. I can’t open myself up to you again. I can’t give you my heart for you to turn around sometime down the road and crush it.”

  I would like to say that I made it through that whole admission without tears, but that’s sadly not true. I’m a mess. I’m a mess because what I realized in the middle of the speech is I’m letting him go.

  “You have every right to be upset. There’s no denying that, but if you take me back, let me back in that sweet heart of yours, I promise, baby, fucking promise, I will never let you down again. I will spend every fucking day on this earth proving to you how much you mean to me,” he chokes out.

  My breathing speeds up when he slowly starts walking toward me. When he cups the sides of my neck and dips his head so we’re eye to eye, my breathing completely stops. His green eyes are almost glowing, they have so much intensity in them right now. He’s begging me through his beautiful greens to give him an answer, but not just any answer.

  “I can’t.” I say as more water leaks from my eyes.

  When he closes his eyes in defeat, I take a step out of his grasp and wipe my eyes. I take a deep breath to gather my thoughts and prepare myself for what I’m about to do, let the love of my life go. “You need to leave, Brant. Forget about me and what we had. It’s done.”

  He opens his eyes and looks at me incredulously. “Fucking impossible. There’s no way I can forget about you. You’ve embedded yourself in me, Sweet Eva. You left Alaska and I haven’t been able to breathe since. Your smell lingers on my sheets, and it keeps me up at night with memories of the nights we shared there, memories of me inside you.

  “Everywhere I look, there are memories. The Tavern. My parents’ house. Robert’s cabin. My fucking tree stand. You. Are. Everywhere I look. There is no forgetting you, Eva, and I don’t fucking want to. I miss you, baby. I even fucking miss your damn dog.

  “So the only way I’m leaving this place without you is if you convince me you don’t miss me too. Convince me that you don’t feel half alive since you left, like part of your soul is missing. Convince me you don’t care.”

  “I don’t care, Brantley,” I answer immediately. The words are like acid in my throat. It physically hurts to say them, but I keep my face impassive.

  “Lie,” he instantly responds.
>
  “What?”

  “That’s a fucking lie, and you know it.” I open my mouth to argue, but I don’t get the chance to. “Wanna know how it’s a lie?”

  “How?” I ask quietly, even though I’m certain I won’t be able to handle his reply. He eats up the little space that was between us before answering.

  “You paid for The Tavern. You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t care about me. If you didn’t lo—”

  I panic when I hear the L word and blurt out my response. “I care about you, all right? It was your dream, and no matter how you felt about me, I didn’t want to see you lose that. I know how much you loved that bar, and I cared about you too much to watch that happen.”

  “Then why? Why won’t you give me, us, another chance?” he whispers.

  “Because. It’s not just about us anymore,” I whisper back. I figure now is as good a time as ever to let him know. I’m confused when his entire body goes rock solid.

  “Swear to Christ, baby, you throw that asshole in my face one more fucking time I will track him down and tear him apart.”

  It takes me a couple of confused seconds to realize he’s talking about Eric, but when I eventually do come to the realization, I roll my eyes. “I’m not talking about him, ya idiot,” I snap.

  “Then what the hell are you talking about? The only people who our relationship concerns is you and me. If you tell me you’ve been out with another one, I will lose it,” he growls. I would laugh at him if this situation wasn’t so serious. If he wants to know, I’ll tell him.

  “I’m pregnant, you jackass.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  MY HEAD AND MY HEART ARE LIKE

  THE LITTLE DEVIL AND ANGEL