by Ross, Janice
Erika sat on the top stair with a large bag. She gently sobbed. When I placed my palm on her shoulder, she gripped it and cried even more. It broke my heart to see her broken apart like this. I couldn’t leave or turn her away. She needed me more than anyone had in a helluva long time.
“You saved me.”
“We need to get out of here, Erika.”
“Let me get the rest of my things.”
“Don’t worry about that.” In saying so, I knew I’d just taken on a new responsibility.
“Where’s Tony?”
“Same spot. He won’t ever bother you again.”
“Is he dead?”
“Let’s go, Erika.”
She glanced to the open doorway, but moved forward. I held her bag. She clutched onto me, but was weak and trembling. So I scooped her into my arms. “I got you.” It felt odd referring to someone like this, especially if that someone wasn’t Kasha.
We quickly moved down the stairs in pursuit of the front door.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking her hand.
She nodded.
I ran my palms along her face and forced her head up. “Are you hurt?”
She shivered, so I set her to stand on the floor. Although the questions loomed, and I wasn’t able to wrap my mind around this, all of a sudden I wanted her, along with everything that entailed. I swiped my thumb across her cheek several times when I realized tears were flowing. This should never have happened. Not to her, or to any woman.
“I’m gonna protect you from him, or any asshole like that.” The moisture increased. She caved forward. I opened up, “My foster mother was killed by her boyfriend on my eleventh birthday. I can't stand by and watch anyone else go through that kind of pain again. Damn, Erika! I've seen too much shit with assholes using their influence or power over others. I've handled those situations in the past, and I'll be damn sure I don't do it again.” I hadn’t thought about, much less made those confessions out loud in years. Not even to Kasha. But now, with this situation, Erika had to know that I would fight for her. Just maybe I was sent here to protect her, and bring her into my world. Just maybe destiny meant for us to be together.
I snaked my arms around her waist to draw her into my chest.
“I’m so sorry, Knox. Aww man, I’m sorry.”
Shit, my eyes stung. I wouldn’t allow myself to show emotion, though, never.
“I don’t have anyone. I guess you don’t either.” She kissed my lips then continued, “We can be someone to each other.”
Erika’s lips pressed to mine. I kissed her wholeheartedly. Her expression, the deep declaration I’d someday hoped to hear from Kasha had never come. Well, not from the woman I wanted. Kasha wasn’t ready, but Erika was. And although I couldn’t understand my timing, I suddenly felt ready too.
“Someone’s bound to call the police, if they haven’t already,” she advised. I nodded. “We need to find somewhere to go, Knox.”
I started to see Erika as the perfect woman to build a future with. She was not afraid to love and was ready to build a future. My heart pulsated at the thought. My entire body flushed over. In that moment, just when I happened to picture Kasha’s face and hear her words: “I’m never giving away my heart.” I became confident in the knowledge that I was ready to give away mine. I was ready to love. Although I wasn’t in love at that very second with Erika, I wanted . . . needed to be.
“I’m gonna keep you safe,” I promised.
“You already did.”
“No, I’m gonna keep you safe and take care of you. Come to Delaware with me.”
Erika’s lips trembled. Her lashes fluttered. She hung onto my words as if she had some kind of insight. “You want me?”
“Yes, I want you. Let me take you home.”
~
Four Years Later
Kasha
~
Knox was five weeks away from getting married to another girl.
Only. Five. Weeks.
Yet for the first time in close to five long years, I found myself easing up on the tip of my toes and extending my arms around his broad neck.
Let me make this clear.
We’ve never come this close to being one. Our collective past was filled with never: never kissed, never snuggled, and certainly never crossed that line. How could we have gotten here?
One minute we were simply friends . . .
And bam!
Who was I kidding? Simply friends?
Neither of us made any attempts to pull back. Between the panting and irrational groping, we’d journeyed miles beyond a line that friends should never cross.
I exhaled as he took in the very essence of me. All that I was capable of feeling, knowing, seeing or tasting was Knox. I became lost in a fog, buried deep in a world that sought to rub me out. Because, with him, I could no longer exist on my own. I had to be able to dive into everything that was Knox Jackson. The passion . . . electricity . . . energies were beyond lit. It had always existed, lurked in the darkness for an opportunity to explode. Or rather, in our case, implode.
So why today?
Why did I decide to give in to the emotional pull that had always been guiding us together? And why did Knox decide to not hold strong to the fact that he was about to become a married man?
I tried. I promise you, I tried not to inhale the sensational cologne that had come to represent this ridiculous need. But it was beyond that. Every single sense perked up whenever he was near. Hell, forget about our proximity now, since there was no longer a distance.
Knox’s tongue slid across his lips. I darn well tasted its juicy goodness. Even the thrusts had to be strong, I could just about feel its force between my upper lips, lashing against the nipples of my 34-B cup breasts, and even inching up between my thighs. Every ounce of reasoning scolded me for wanting this, even as every bit of the same had me convinced of this time as a necessity. It was like the portion of an old show I once saw where the devil sat at one side on the shoulder and an angel perched on the other.
“Kash, please . . .” Knox begged. The words were elongated whispers that cuddled my body, only to ride me from head to toe.
Knox’s silky, chocolate-colored cropped hair flowed through my fingers. I yanked. Not just simply pulled or gently tugged. I wanted him more than a little. He reacted by burrowing his head against my neck. I allowed my lids to drift shut as Knox’s firm hands gripped my backside. He drew me up and into him. Our mouths collided, and about two seconds later, our tongues locked. This wasn’t just passion, not with the way our tongues demanded absolutely everything of the other. There was a greedy type of exchange taking place. The hunger flowing from between us was capable of taking away all strength.
There we were, two friends, clinging in a desperate embrace, while fondling and grappling for dear life. At that moment, in this time, only he and I existed. We’d fought long to avoid this inevitable faith, yet here we were. While it pained me to know that I was capable of impeding on someone else’s world in this way, I didn’t know how to let him go now that the world had started making sense. My eyes stung the more I fought to subdue the tears. They wanted to pour out from me, but I couldn’t let them. I squeezed as long as possible, until tiny drops began trickling down my cheeks. All this as I continued to take in the wild thrusts of Knox’s tongue inside of my mouth.
“We shouldn’t . . .” I somehow managed to mumble against his mouth, but our passion overpowered all objections. The tears continued to burn at my eyes; I badly wanted to cry for every instance I’d refused to accept the truth. My insides ached with a yearning to get away from and give in to him all at once.
“I need you,” Knox spat out like a bitter curse, sending a tiny flow of his saliva to the tip of my nose. These weren’t our words; this topic was certainly not one for two casual friends with nothing more than a solid respect and dedication. “Shit, love . . .” He was beyond angry. I held the anger, making it penetrate my mind. I couldn’t allow the moment or his declar
ation to control me, even as we merged.
But love?
I gasped, but didn’t let go. Even tried willing my body to step away, turn and run. I had to forget that I’d ever come to adore a man named Knox Jackson. Sadly, the commands became mute, feeble attempts. Touching Knox, digging my fingers into his defined biceps didn’t help. Inhaling his essence—the scent that marked his manliness—only reminded me that our energies had first connected four years ago.
“Knox,” I fumbled out as the syllables ricocheted across every inch of my already sensitive limbs. Damn! Simply saying his name had me tingly between my legs. “No . . .” I cried out, and let the tears flow. I wound up my head, while trying to arch away. My waist wiggled; I felt rotten and downright trashy, but I didn’t give two shits. I only wanted . . . needed him to feel me.
I was beyond a mess of a desperate woman. I choked at the thought of me. Yes, me, Kasha Davies shoving my stuff on some guy. So I let up and pulled back as much as I could. His arms wouldn’t allow it. He groped, squeezing like I was no longer a want, but instead an integral part of existence.
In the midst of this uncertainty, I shoved my hips forward then back, right then left. Knox had no choice but to break the hold and start lowering me to the ground. For a brief second I felt bare, like I’d been stripped down to nothing. And that quickly, without an explanation, I hopped up. I went from chilly, to warm, and finally hot. My head spun, so much so that as I plopped on the ground. I needed to lean back into him. My head pressed against his chest. His heartbeat penetrated the side of my face. I hung onto the quickening pace, desperate to feel beyond his cotton tee. His arms drew me in, forcing me to only rely on this remarkable shelter. It wasn’t that he was a large, muscular guy or anything. Knox’s arms were cut, but it was enough to be desirable; yet less overbearing.
He exhaled, jolting me out of the fantasy world I’d drifted into. No, we weren’t in a utopian society. No, I was not his. No, he . . . he couldn’t be mine.
“What are we—” I paused on purpose. My throat became swollen over of a painstakingly harsh attempt to fight back the tears and accompanying sobs. When I’d first met Knox, like most other girls, I’d fallen into lust. I was told to play it safe—forget about relationships while I was in school.
In the words of my man-hating mother: “The young ones are full of fun and the old ones are full of shit, so get your life in order before you take on any shitty fun.” After dad’s passing, I hadn’t given much thought to Mom’s so-called words of wisdom, but upon entering undergrad after my move up north, I’d decided to make the most of my education. I never imagined that I would become good friends with, much less fall in love with Knox.
Seriously though, who ends up in the smallest state in the continental US to meet the man of her dreams? Under any other circumstance, how would we have met? Knox was five years older than me. He wasn’t originally from Delaware. I believe he grew up in the Midwest or somewhere. But that night when he caught me, I can see how we might’ve fallen in that perfect setting. Moreover, as I look back over the years, I see how we might’ve created this little world, one where we made choices based on our friendship. A friendship that seemed to shatter when he got involved with her.
Thinking back to my mother’s words and the first encounter with Knox, I felt the sting of my tear ducts once more. I shook my head—as if that would blow away the love.
“You’re in my system, Kash.” He cleared his throat right after. The words jabbed at my heart. He had to know that the feelings were mutual. Knox was one of the good guys, and this had to be tearing him to shreds, but how in the world were we supposed to ignore what we’d started here today? “Damn, girl.”
“What the hell, Knox, you think I’m not screwed up too?” Being this close was only reinforcing the pain. Like the whole see but don’t touch thing. Obviously we were too obedient. I spun around to take two healthy steps away from him, my weakness. When I refocused on him, my eyes landed on his chest. I couldn’t bring myself to glance up at those perfect pink lips. Even in the dusty lighting, the gentleness of his lips were capable of putting me under his spell.
We were standing just inside the entrance door of his above level basement. The outdoor temperature had reached a comfortable 78 degrees for mid-April, though the inside temperature had easily surpassed 100. The walls were painted eggshell, with subtle swirls of pastels from ceiling to floor. I wrapped my fingers over my bare upper arms as an unexpected chill coursed down my body. This as moisture sprang from my armpits.
“What are we gonna do?” Knox became a bit too calm. He shifted his legs apart, looking down at me and broadening his chest. It was the type of stance that cried out come to me. I wanted to run, leap and plunge into his arms. But his wry smile was a warning. He wasn’t remorseful.
“I . . .” Deep breath, long pause. I placed my right palm to the top of my chest before nudging forward for effect. “Ummm . . . Knox, you asked me to drop you home since your car was in the shop. Now that you’re home, my mission is complete.” If I was closer to the door, I would’ve spun outside quicker than the speed of light, yet I wasn’t. I couldn’t trust myself to take a few steps past my weakness, toward certain freedom.
“I love you, Kash.” Knox moved forward, forcing me back and away from him. With each step he made, I equaled or doubled my own. Heck, I was only about five inches shorter than him. We paced across the open basement in a seemingly rehearsed waltz.
The pace of my heart raced so much that I had to clench my fists to steady my shaking. I even began nibbling on my lips, which was a habit I’d been trying to break for several months now. Knox’s hands reached out for me, as his fingers aimed for my mouth.
My breath hitched and I bobbed back until I found myself cornered.
When my shoulders finally touched the chilly wall, and I felt a flattening of my wild, dark tresses, he didn’t stop. I stuck out my hands. He came at me until my palms rested against his gray cotton tee shirt. My elbows bent while Knox took our space down to null. His breath tussled strands of hair that lay on my forehead. Each drift stripped away the barriers I’d used to protect my heart.
Unlike in the passageway, there wasn’t any lighting. I squeezed my lashes shut to say a prayer for what might happen. In a moment of guilt, my lashes fluttered up as the words poured out. “Love me? Really, Knox? How the hell can you love me when you’re only weeks away from marrying another girl?”
“You don’t think I can be in love with you?” His question turned low. He used an uncommonly even tone for the situation.
“Wait a minute . . .” I pushed with all that was within me. There was some fraction of movement, though very little. In fact, it was Knox that eventually let up. “Over the past four years, you didn’t once think to tell me that you loved me?”
“Don’t turn this around on me, Kash. You always had something negative to say about men or relationships or anything to do with emotions.”
“You couldn’t ask if I was interested? What about telling me you loved me before now? Before you asked some other chick to marry you?” Saying the words gave me the feel of a knife plunging into my heart. He was to marry some other chick, even though he now claimed to love me. Ugh . . . Even though I loved him. Bit by bit, my breath seemed to get cut away. I wanted to look into his eyes, yet at the same time wanted to keep mine hidden. My hands formed solids fists at my sides, causing my entire body to become rigid, unbendable.
“Say her name . . .” He reached for my chin to tilt it as far as it would take to make me focus only on him. “She’s not you.”
“Screw you, Knox.” I barely got out his name when my voice croaked. I had always refused to give ear to the woman he’d been dating for a shorter period of time than we’d known each other. Setting one foot in front of the other, I now shifted attention to the door. Shaking him off, the tears rolled down my cheeks slowly and in single file on each side. “You’re saying everything right, but the words mean nothing. And now you want me to say h
er name . . . What the hell do I look like?”
Knox ran his thumbs underneath the meat of each cheek. He used a little extra force in stroking the flesh. I tried to convince myself that it was painful, though my body responded that it was painfully good. With each movement, he only diminished my walls. While I internalized the idea that I couldn’t have him and shouldn’t want to, my body held off on cooperating.
I wasn’t the type of girl to chase behind some guy, especially an unavailable one. I didn’t try to take what wasn’t mine. Above all, I just wanted to be left to my own thoughts, instead of getting caught up in drama. For those times when I desired to reach outside of myself, I looked to my best girlfriend or this one—my ace. He was my number one. Knox was supposed to be my go-to guy-friend. He was the text message guy, the chat on the phone guy. He was my rock in many ways. In all that, he’d captured my heart, when I’d let down the walls.
Taking a full swallow of air, I ran for the exit. Even when Knox’s hand held onto my elbow, I shook wildly to get away. His touch penetrated my skin. I felt it to my core.
“Kash, don’t go.”
I didn’t want to leave, but didn’t have a choice. My insides sang with a wild thumping of my heartbeat. I willed my legs to move, but his pleas had a greater pull.
“Kash, I need you to stay. Let’s talk.” If those words didn’t do anything, his final plea shattered the walls when he added, “Please.”
My fight was gone. Knox had done something only he could do: soothe the fight with his words, because of our emotional ties. I held onto my cries, captured the sobs in my chest and tossed my head side to side. I despised myself for being weak and in love. My head hung low, until all I was able to study was the gray flooring of the basement. That pause was just enough to let him know that I could be his. Realizing my error, I swung my head almost mechanically.
“Nooo,” I whined in a somber tone.