Three Hearts One Soul (The Soul Series #1)

by Botefuhr, Bec

  “You ok?” he whispers, his voice hoarse from his cries of pleasure.

  I nod into his chest, taking a moment to just breathe him in. I want to remember this. I need to remember this. I have longed for a memory to replace the old one, something that won’t end in pain for me. Whiskey tangles his fingers into my hair and he gently drags his fingers of my skull as we both wind down. I press my lips to his neck, sliding my tongue out to taste the salty flavour of his sweat. It’s erotic to me. It makes me want to taste him.

  “Your back,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, I think I’m bleeding.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, kissing his neck some more.

  “Stop kissin’ my neck sugar, I’ll fuck you again.”

  “Maybe I want you to,” I whisper, running my hands down his back.

  “Fuck.”

  I find his lips again and I feel him swelling inside me once more. Our lips move together and he groans when I bite his lower lip. “I want you, Whiskey,” I murmur.

  “Yeah, sugar, I know.”

  “Do you want me, too?”

  “You fuckin’ know I do.”

  “Fuck me again, hard.”

  “Jesus sugar, I’ve never seen this side to you.”

  I don’t answer him, because I’ve never seen this side to me either but I don’t care, I just want him. I want him to fuck me again, I want him to take away all the pain for just a moment. He grips my hips and pulls out of me, laying my back down on the bed. He pulls off the condom, and pulls out another, rolling one on. I guess he doesn’t like the feeling of swimming in his own release. He grips my hips, lifting them and bending them so I’m fully exposed to him. He stares down at my naked sex with hungry eyes.

  “Fuckin’ nicest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

  “Whiskey,” I plead.

  He runs a finger through my damp folds, sliding up and down, up and down until I’m squirming on the couch.

  “Tell me how much you fuckin’ want my cock, sugar?”

  I whimper and grip his forearms, squeezing them. “You know I do.”

  “Say it.”

  “I want your cock, Whiskey, I want it inside me.”

  “That’s a girl,” he growls, pressing his erection to my entrance.

  With one, hard thrust he’s inside me again. My sex clenches over his cock, tugging and pulling until he’s deep, deep inside me. He hisses through his teeth as he slowly pulls his length out, then gently slides it back in. We move that way for long moments, our bodies building to another mind blowing release. Whiskey bites my shoulder, swirling his tongue along my skin while his teeth pinch my skin. The mix of pleasure and pain does me over, I come hard and fast. Whiskey takes both of my hands in his and puts them above my head.

  I lean up and suck one of his barred nipples into my mouth. He makes an almost whimpering sound as I suck the piercing, letting my tongue slide around and around over it until he’s groaning my name in that guttural, sexy voice of his. I tug one of my hands free and I grip his ass, spurring him on as he thrusts so deeply it almost hurts. When he comes again, it’s with my name pouring from his lips and his body wound up so tightly I can see the veins in his neck pulsing. He spurts hard, deep and his body slackens, dropping over mine as he comes down from his high.

  My moment with him doesn’t last long when I hear the sound of his parents door opening. He leaps off me and I jump off the couch so fast I stumble over the coffee table and land face first onto the carpet. I hear Whiskey’s burst of laughter as he quickly pulls up his jeans. I glare at him as I fumble about for my pants. I just get them on and sit on my bottom when Whiskey’s parents walk out. They jerk in shock, obviously not realizing that I was in here with Whiskey. I don’t look at Whiskey’s gaze, because I know he’s still laughing at me and I know he’s got blood…on his back. If his parents see that…I watch them both stare at us for a moment, then smile.

  “We didn’t realize you two were awake.”

  I subtly wipe my hands on my robe as I pull it onto my lap to cover my undone pants. Whiskey reaches to the floor and quickly pulls on a shirt, I catch a glimpse of my claw marks on his back and flush. Katie walks into the kitchen and John slumps down onto the couch with a sigh. My house is tiny, and while the two are acting completely normal, I’m almost sure they heard us. How could they not? Feeling my cheeks burn, I get to my feet.

  “Do you want a cup of tea dear?” Katie asks.

  “Oh, no thanks. I’m going to get a few more hours sleep.”

  I glimpse the clock on the wall and see it’s only five am. Whiskey meets my gaze and his mouth curls into a half smile. I look away quickly, then with an awkward wave, I rush down the hall. When I get to my room, I shut the door and go straight to my bed. I feel such a mix of emotions that I don’t really know how to pin point one. I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel guilty, I feel anxious. I don’t want to hate what Whiskey and I just did, because I would be lying if I said I haven’t wanted it since he came back but at the same time, I feel extreme guilt for feeling such pleasure while Jase is dying.

  Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I quickly stand and rummage through the cupboards for some clean clothes. I shouldn’t be here having sex with Whiskey when Jase is dying. It’s wrong. It’s cruel. I pull on some fresh panties and shorts, then I pull on a tank top and grip my purse. Jase needs me. I need to get my head straight. Soon I won’t have him anymore and here I am spending my time with Whiskey buried deep inside me. It’s not how this is meant to go. Feeling tears sting my eyes, I close them and take a moment to gather myself.

  Unable to calm my guilt, I rush out of my room and down the hall. Whiskey is standing in the kitchen talking to his parents. They all look over at me as I rush in. I dig about for my car keys, feeling my hands trembling. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so selfish. Jase is dying and I’m fucking his brother. What sort of low life, rotten person am I? I should have never let Whiskey get to me again, I shouldn’t have opened my heart to him knowing full well he’s going to leave soon anyway.

  “Nev, are you ok?” Katie asks.

  “I’m going to see Jase, I need to…”

  My voice comes out desperate and high pitched. Whiskey walks over and grips my hand, but I jerk it away.

  “I will see you all later.”

  “Heaven,” he calls as I rush towards the door, but I don’t stop.

  God, what am I doing?

  Chapter 14

  A full week passes with little change to our situation. I run from Whiskey every time I see him and Jase slowly deteriorates. I spend every day and most nights with Jase now, wanting to get every last moment I can with him. I tell him stories, watch movies with him, or just simply hold him for hours. I can see him fading away, his body is shutting down and I feel utterly helpless. I am living in denial that he won’t get better, reality still hasn’t hit me. I tell myself each day he’s going to die, to try and prepare myself for it but I truly don’t think it’s working. Part of me still thinks it’s not real.

  “Hey Handsome,” I say to Jase, walking into his room one Friday morning after a well needed run.

  He looks awful today. His skin is grey, his eyes are sunken and he has tubes coming out of him everywhere. His breathing is short, heavy and clearly painful. He hasn’t eaten for two days and he’s on a drip for fluids. I grip his hand and smile down at him, he looks up at me, his brown eyes bloodshot and tinged with grey. I stroke his cheek, then lean down and kiss his lips softly.

  “Nev,” he croaks.

  “I’m here, are you hurting? Do you need a nurse?”

  He shakes his head so slowly, it’s as though it’s in slow motion.

  “What do you need honey?” I whisper.

  “Whiskey…you…call him.”

  I swallow, feeling sickness rise. Jase doesn’t look good, he doesn’t look good at all. “O-ok.”

  I grip my phone and look down at him for a long, long moment before walking out of the room. It’s one of those moments of dread, where you
can feel it invading your chest and cutting off your air supply. So when Doctor Wilson begins walking towards me, I know what he’s going to say, even though I haven’t admitted it to myself yet. He stops in front of me and his blue eyes scan my face with…is that sympathy? I suddenly realize how it feels to be on the other end of bad news.

  “Nevaeh, can we have a word?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my voice has gone into hiding.

  “It’s about Jase.”

  My world spins. I know what’s coming. I’ve known it was coming since the night Jase went back into hospital. He’s been fading quickly and I always knew his time frame of a month or so was no way near correct. It was a way to give us faith, hope. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly, because no one can ever really be sure how long someone has left to live, no matter how qualified that person is. We can’t play god, it’s just not possible. I reach out and place my hand on the wall, steadying myself.

  “It’s nearly time, isn’t it?” I croak.

  “It is time Nevaeh, Jase’s cancer was far, far more aggressive then we could have imagined. His body is tired, he’s tired. He’s had enough. He’s stopped fighting. He wants to go. He hasn’t eaten for days, his breathing is ragged, he’s asleep more than he is awake. Jase is ready to go, Nevaeh. I think it’s time you call his family.”

  I hear my loud, gut wrenching sob before I realize it’s coming from me. Doctor Wilson takes my arm, steadying me but I can’t feel his fingers, I can’t feel anything, all I can feel is that gut wrenching numbness that is sweeping over my body and gripping my heart.

  “Would you like me to call them?”

  “No,” I sob. “I’ll do it.”

  With a hand so shaky I don’t know how I actually get it to my ear, I call Whiskey. He answers on the first ring.

  “Heaven, are you ok?”

  “Whiskey…” I say in a voice so broken, I hardly recognize it. “It’s Jase…he’s…you all need to come to the hospital.”

  Whiskey doesn’t answer, he just hangs up. With trembling legs, I walk back into Jase’s room. He’s got his eyes closed, his breathing is shallow and fast and for the first time, I see no life in his body. Not a tiny flush in his cheeks, not a warmth in his face. Nothing. It’s gone. Jase is slipping away. With tears pouring down my cheeks, I walk over to the bed and take his hand. He opens his eyes, staring up at me. He opens his mouth to speak, but has to swallow many times to get his words out. Even when he does they’re hoarse.

  “I…I want to…I want to say so much,” he whispers.

  “Jase, you can’t go,” I rasp, my tears dripping onto his hand. “I don’t want you to go. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet, please Jase, please.”

  “It’s my time,” he rasps, touching his chest.

  “No,” I sob. “Jase, no.”

  “You’re going to be ok,” he says, his voice so hoarse and raspy I hardly recognize it.

  “I…no…Jase…please…”

  “Shhhh, I’m not in pain now Nev, I feel ok…I want this. I’m tired. I’ve had enough.”

  It’s a large sentence that takes him a good few minutes to get out. Each word is followed with a rasp or a heart breaking cough. I hear the sounds of Katie and John as they run down the halls. A moment later they burst through the doors, Whiskey close behind. They’re all crying. Each and every one of them. Katie runs over, taking Jase’s hand. John leans against the wall, steadying himself and Whiskey just stares at Jase, as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

  “No, my baby boy, please,” Katie cries, gripping Jase’s hand.

  Jase looks at me. “Let me talk with mum and dad,” he croaks. “I will talk to you and Whiskey after.”

  Nodding, I pull my hand from his and follow Whiskey out the door. Neither of us speak as we sit on the chairs outside the room. We just sit, tears thundering down our cheeks, our chests heaving, as we wait. Nurses come past, some stop and offer help, others simply nod and pat our shoulders. Half an hour passes and when Katie and John come out, Katie is hysterical. John leads her down the hall and I turn to Whiskey, knowing this will be the last time we speak to Jase. The last time we’ll all be together. The pain in my chest, I couldn’t even come close to describing. Death would be a kinder alternative.

  We both stand, forcing our numb legs to walk us into Jase’s room. When we get to the bed, we each take one of his hands. He looks between us, his face has gone an ever deeper shade of grey and that frightens me. Jase strokes both our hands and then begins speaking. The words he speaks take him such a long time to get out, I wonder if he’ll make it through, but he does and we listen to every, last rasp of his voice. Cherishing every last second we have with him.

  “You two have been my life for so long. You’re everything I lived for. We let it slip away, but we found it again. I’m going but that doesn’t mean you two can’t hold on to what we have. You two love each other, I know you don’t want to admit it but you do. A love like ours doesn’t come around many times and you should hold onto it with both hands. I’m going to a better place and behind me I’m going to leave pain and heart break. I want you two to promise me you’ll lean on each other, you’ll love each other, you’ll fight for each other because in life, you need someone to fight for you. Promise me, in this moment, with all our hearts combined, that you’ll be there for each other and you’ll not run again?”

  I look up at Whiskey and he’s crying so heavily his body is shaking. He makes a pained, broken bellow and then he slowly nods his head. “I promise.”

  “I promise too,” I gasp.

  Jase takes his hand and presses it to my heart, then he places it on Whiskey’s heart, then his.

  “Three hearts,” he rasps.

  He grips all our hands in his, and it’s cold, clammy and weak. He places all three of our hands on his heart. “One soul.”

  Whiskey cries out loudly and leans down, wrapping his arms around Jase and pulling him to his chest. There he cries and cries until his body is heaving and he’s gasping for his next breath. He puts him down, strokes his cheek and whispers, “I love you brother, always.”

  “Take care of her Whisk,” Jase wheezes.

  He nods and then grips Jase’s face, running his thumbs over his cheeks. “I just…I need a minute. I will be back? Ok? Just give me one minute.”

  Jase nods so slowly it breaks my heart. Whiskey hugs him and murmurs another I love you before rushing out of the room. I take the chance to crawl into Jase’s bed. I wrap my arms around him and I hold him to me, pressing his head to my chest.

  “I love you Jase, I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  Those are the last words he speaks to me. It’s strange how you know the exact moment that life is no longer in someone, I knew the exact moment. One minute I was stroking his head, then suddenly I was sliding my fingers down to find the pulse in his neck. When I discovered it was no longer thudding, everything in my world fell to pieces. I shifted him off me and panic set in. I began pumping his chest, crying out his name and screaming that it wasn’t his time. Hysterical doesn’t begin to imagine how I felt in that moment.

  Keeping oneself together is probably the best way to behave, but it doesn’t always happen that way when you’ve just lost someone you love. Desperation, fear, pain and agony sets in and you don’t want to believe what’s in front of you. For me, being a nurse set in and I pumped and pumped his chest, desperate for him to start breathing again. This can’t be it. This can’t be where my story ends. It can’t be where his story ends. Heaving for breath, I push on his chest and press my lips to his, blowing air into his lungs. I feel someone grip my arms, but I slap them away with a pained, agonizing scream.

  “No, he’s not gone. Jase, wake up. Wake up.”

  “He’s gone,” Doctor Wilson whispers gently.

  “No,” I scream, hysterically pumping Jase’s chest. “He’s not. Jase no, please, baby, wake up. I’m not ready to lose you. Jase, please.”

  “Nevae
h, he’s gone.”

  “No,’ I wail, letting my body drop onto his. I wrap my arms around him and I cry so hard my body convulses. I press my head to his chest, as though in doing that his heart might begin beating again.

  It doesn’t though. Jase is gone. My special soul, my kind spirit, he’s gone. I’ll never see him smile again. I’ll never hear his laugh. I’ll never feel his arms around me. I’ll never see those brown eyes sparkle. He’s gone. Jase is gone. Doctor Wilson gently lifts me from his body and tries to pull me from the room.

  “Jase,” I cry, stretching my fingers out, as though one last touch will make it all better.

  “Come on, shhh, come on.”

  “Jase, please, wake up!”

  “He’s gone, Nevaeh, he’s gone.”

  “No,” I cry, struggling. “No!”

  Doctor Wilson gets me into the hall and through my haze of hysteria, I see Whiskey on his knees by the waiting chairs, crying. Katie and John are wrapped in each other, sobbing heavily. They know. Whiskey looks up at me when he notices my struggling. Somehow he pushes to his feet, and walks over. He grips me from Doctor. Wilson’s arms and hurls me to his chest. I tangle my fingers in his shirt and we slide down the wall together, wrapped in each other, both of us feeling the same pain.

  There are no words to describe the pain we are all feeling in that moment. What words could possibly be used to explain the pain of losing someone? There are none. There aren’t even any that come close. I shake and tremble as Whiskey keeps his arms around me. My mind spins and darkness threatens to take over. I want it to. I want darkness to take me away from this heart wrenching pain in my chest that is causing my entire body to constrict and struggle. I want it to just take me away, for a moment. So I give in, I give in to the darkness and the last word I rasp is, “Jase.”

  Chapter 15

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  Jase’s funeral was utterly heart breaking. He made Whiskey promise to sing, and so he did. Whiskey filled the church with his soulful voice, as he sung Jase’s favourite song. “If you’re gone, maybe you need to come home, there’s an awful lot of breathing room, but I can hardly move…” We all just sat in silence, listening to Whiskey’s voice. The rest of the service was a blur to me, I spent most of it in a numb haze. I hadn’t shed a tear since the day Jase died, I just gave in to the drowning sensation of feeling my body close in on itself.